by Zoë Fox
When Roderick finally stood to leave, Lucas released her hand in order to see him out.
“Is he gone?” Sean’s voice came from behind the couch.
“Yeah,” Alex rolled her eyes. “It’s safer for you to come out now.”
His head peaked out over the top of the sofa. “Was it just me or was he seriously creepy.”
She nodded. “For once, I agree with you.”
“Agree with what?” Lucas asked, rejoining him.
“That Roderick is a creep,” Alex said.
“He can be difficult,” Lucas responded, his back to her. He’d crouched on the floor to examine the CDs. “I’m sure he did this,” he said, gesturing to the discs, “just to be difficult. What is so wrong with pen and paper or nice, regular money?”
Alex ignored him. “I thought you said that guy was a friend.”
“He is.” Lucas took a deep breath. She was tense, angry. He could feel it. “In as much as two such as him and I can be.”
“What? Vampires?” Sean asked, jumping over the back of the couch to take a seat on the opposite end from where Alex was.
“No.” He didn’t turn around. “Academics. We’re a solitary lot.”
“Because you’re vampires, though, right?” Sean seemed less afraid of Lucas, which was, most likely, the result of him keeping Roderick from snacking on his neck.
“You are rather obsessed with that fact, are you not? No, not because we’re vampires. Because we’re afraid someone will steal our research.” He tossed the disc he’d been holding back in the box. “And he’s been forced to carry out my project as I slept. I hadn’t considered the fact that he would resent me for such.”
“I don’t like him,” Alex said matter-of-factly.
“He was trying to get a rise out of me,” Lucas said, moving the first of the two boxes to over by the bookshelf. “Don’t concern yourself with him.”
“What did he mean by the whole ‘I can smell you on her’ thing?” Alex stood, trying to get a look at his face as he moved the second box.
This was the moment he’d been dreading since his colleague had decided to share that bit of information. “Alex,” he started, turning around. “I want you to stay calm.”
“I’m calm,” she said, but her voice betrayed her.
“I understand that you might be angry.”
“Oh, why would I be angry? You just drank my freaking blood without my permission.” She took a step closer to him.
“At the time, doing so would have been impossible.”
“Alex,” Sean called from the couch, interrupting her rebuttal. “You might not want to yell at him.”
“Go home, Sean.” She snapped at him.
“But, um, he did kind of protect us from—”
“I said, go home!”
Sean tried another approach. “I mean, he could still rip your throat out, you know, if you make him mad enough.”
“GO HOME, SEAN!” Lucas and Alex both yelled at him this time.
“Okay, right. See you tomorrow.” He paused at the top of the steps. “Just, um, don’t kill each other.” He slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Fifteen
“If you would take a seat,” Lucas said once Sean was gone, “I will explain myself.”
“No, thanks.” Alex crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fine where I am.”
“Have it your way.” He sighed, positioning the desk chair so that he could sit and still look her in the eye. “I don’t see why you’re insisting on making this harder than it has to be.”
Alex glared at her. She didn’t know exactly how she felt at the moment. She was upset at the idea of him drinking her blood without asking. Hurt that he was moving, yet had conveniently neglected to mention the fact to her. On top of this, she was confused about her own reaction to his touch. The conflicting emotions bombarding her only made her angrier. That feeling, at least, was easy to understand.
“I’m sorry,” she said sarcastically. “I kind of think I’ve got a right to be ticked off here.”
“I’m not saying that you don’t. I just believe we can discuss this like civilized beings.”
“Not really feeling ‘civilized’ at the moment. Being used as an all-you-can-eat-buffet has a tendency to do that to me,” she retorted.
“I did not take much from you, Alex,” he insisted.
“Oh, and I guess that makes it okay? To hell with my feelings, right? You didn’t take much so I should just suck it up?”
“I didn’t say that either—”
“Then what are you saying?” She interrupted.
“Were you to only let me finish a thought,” he said, giving her a pointed look, “I might be able to explain myself in a more satisfying manner.”
“Okay, shoot.” She said, sitting down hard on the couch across from him. “I’m listening.”
He sat quietly for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. “I awoke to the smell of your blood—”
“And that makes it okay to treat me like room service?”
“I believe you said you would listen. That, but its nature, implies contemplative silence, not perpetual interruptions.” Lucas was getting agitated. He’d done what anyone similar to him would have in drinking from her. The difference was that he, even in his starved form, with his body screaming for sustenance, had thought enough not to hurt her and yet he was still being punished for it.
“Fine. I’ll shut up.”
“Thank you. As I was saying; I awoke to the smell of your blood. As you know, I had been at rest for over a century. Do you know what that means?” He asked.
She shook her head, but remained silent.
“When I first opened my eyes I was, to be honest, more animal than man. Instinct took over and I followed the smell. You’d cut yourself in the fall and were bleeding rather profusely.” He took a deep breath. “The smell of you, combined with over a hundred years of forced starvation, caused me to seek nourishment above all else. I bit you and I fed, however, as soon as my conscious mind returned I pulled back. I stopped myself from doing you any further damage and I sealed the wound on your temple. I’m not a trained medical professional, but considering the amount of blood you were losing and your friend’s reluctance to properly attend to you, it is likely I saved your life.”
After finishing, he gestured to her, letting her know that if she wished to speak he would now listen.
“You saved my life and that’s your justification for basically fang raping me?” She continued to glare at him. “So, according to that logic, if a fireman pulls a woman from a burning building, does that mean it’s okay for him to just have his way with her?”
“I didn’t rape you!” He snapped back. “I assure you, madam, your virginity is still intact!”
“Fine. Whatever, but your teeth penetrated my skin without my explicit consent. Sounds a little like rape to me!”
“If you must see it as a crime, please try to view it as theft,” Lucas said, trying to keep the frustration he felt from creeping into his voice. In all his almost four hundred years of life he had never misused a woman and he resented her saying differently. “I stole blood from you, yes, but only enough to sustain me until I could go elsewhere for my meal. Would you treat a starving man who stole a loaf of bread to feed himself this way? Or does your ability to view the situation differently lay in some distaste for how I must feed to survive?”
She didn’t say anything, looking away. It was hard to stay angry with him when offered such a logical explanation. She wasn’t upset at him for being a vampire…she was, what? She didn’t even know at that moment.
Lucas watched her carefully, seeing some of the anger in her countenance drain away, he decided to try something he’d yet to attempt since she first woke him. First, he calmly removed all conscious thought from his mind, allowing himself to become a blank slate on to which he hoped to catch a reflection of the thoughts troubling her.
She worried at her lip with her teeth, una
ware of what he was doing.
At first, Lucas didn’t hear anything. Over his rest many of his abilities had atrophied. Returning them to their proper strength would take time. Earlier, when he’d stopped Roderick from advancing on Alex, he’d surprised himself. His speed had shown no signs of being up to par. He now wondered if he could have done anything had it not been her in danger.
“How could he not tell me he was moving?” The sound of her voice slammed into his skull, an indication of just how hard she was pondering that question.
“Alex,” he cleared his throat, shocked at how her apparent pain affected him. “I had every intention of discussing my relocating with you.”
Her attention snapped back to him. A wary look crossed her face. “Are you reading my mind?”
He nodded, not trying to hide the fact from her.
“Well, stop it! It’s creepy.”
“If you were to talk to me about what is actually bothering you, I wouldn’t have to resort to telepathy.” He reached across the space between them, lightly touching her hand, hoping to comfort her. Again, he was hit with the warmth of her.
Alex took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled. “Look if you want to move, it’s none of my business. I don’t need an explanation.”
Letting go of her hand, he studied her for a moment, debating whether or not to read her mind again. The pressure in his head caused by his first attempt had dulled to a mild ache, but pushing himself further could result in much more severe pain.
“I assumed you’d be interested,” he said, deciding to try to talk to her first. “I was under the impression that we would continue our visits, only in a more comfortable location. Have I been mistaken?”
She shook her head, but didn’t look at him. She was embarrassed he’d been able to read her mind. Even she wasn’t sure about a few of the thoughts bouncing around in there at that moment.
“So,” she said, changing the subject. “How does this whole mind reading thing work?”
“It’s not as impressive as it sounds,” He said, smiling at her once more. He recognized her need for a more neutral topic. “It doesn’t give me unlimited access to the minds of others.”
“Then how does it work?”
“I am able to catch only conscious or active thoughts. The individual I’m focusing my attentions on need not worry that I will figure out all of their personal secrets, unless they routinely mull them over in their mind.” He paused. “It can be a difficult thing to explain. Imagine that your mind is a stage. In the forefront of your mind, the front stage, if you will, are the things a person consciously considers. For example, one might think ‘Why am I so hungry?’ I would only be aware that they desired food because they themselves considered it. Aside from this, I would receive no other indications of their current state.”
He leaned forward, once again enjoying the look of interest on her face. “In the backstage area of the mind are all the thoughts I do not have access to. Not only are subconscious ideas, unknown motivations and the like, stored here unbeknownst to the individual themselves, but so are all of the concepts and emotions they have or will consciously consider at another time, but are not doing so at the exact moment I decide to eavesdrop. It’s very similar to an actor’s props. An item necessary for the second act would be kept here during the first. A thought that will eventually make its way to the front stage of the mind would reside there when unused. During this time, I would have no knowledge of its existence.”
“But, still, that has to be pretty interesting, even if you can’t figure out everything about a person,” Alex said when he finished.
“Not usually.” Lucas leaned back in his chair. “The average person doesn’t do a great deal of active thinking.”
“It can’t be that bad!” The first hint of a smile returned to her face.
“Mostly, I feel like an unwanted voyeur studying other people’s shopping lists.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the look of disgust on his face, the earlier tension between the two of them melting away.
Chapter Sixteen
“I really need to pay attention to the time,” Alex mumbled to herself as she approached her house. She’d gotten caught up in conversation with Lucas once again and had let the time completely slip past her. Now she could only hope that her mom and Kirk were already asleep.
Standing on the front porch, she paused to remove her shoes, intending to cut down on the amount of noise she’d make any way she could. She opened the door slowly and closed it as carefully as possible behind her. The house was silent as she tiptoed across the floor, heading toward her room.
“Give it a rest, Alex,” called her mother’s voice from the kitchen. “I’m awake.”
Alex let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and changed directions.
“Hey, mom,” she said, peaking around the kitchen doorway. “Um…I know it’s late.” She forced a yawn. “Just heading to bed now.”
“Nice try.” Her mother sat at the kitchen table in her frayed bathrobe, a cold cup of coffee in her hand. Her hair was a mess and she looked like she’d been crying. Beside her, clad in Batman pajamas, was a worried looking Toad.
“Mama is sad,” Toad nodded to himself as he spoke.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Alex began apologizing. “I’ll keep better track of time next—”
“Oh. It’s not you,” her mother interrupted. “It’s Kirk.” She teared up a little at his name.
“Hankie?” Toad asked, passing her a box of tissues.
“Did he die or something?” Alex asked.
“No, he didn’t die.” Her mother paused to blow her nose. “I think he’s losing interest in me.”
Alex rolled her eyes. Every time a guy her mother dated made other plans, this happened.
“Relax, mom. I’m sure he’s just got work stuff or whatever.”
“That’s what he says,” she sobbed. “But this is how it always starts.”
Alex couldn’t argue. She’d been through this multiple times with her.
Toad patted his mother on the leg. “Maybe he’s just doing bad things to other women.”
Her mother sobbed harder.
“Come here, Toad.” Alex lifted him out of his chair and took him into the living room before he could upset her any more. Sitting him in front of the TV, she turned it on a twenty-four-hour news station, despite Kirk’s rule. “Now don’t glue yourself to anything, okay?”
He nodded up at her and smiled, happy to be able to return to his regularly scheduled programming.
“He probably heard that on some TV show,” Alex told her mother when she returned to the kitchen. “He didn’t mean any harm.”
“I know,” she cried, putting her head in her hands. “But he’s probably right. What did I do wrong?”
At this point, Alex wished her mother would just grounded her like a normal parent.
“Mom, it’s probably nothing,” she said as she dumped out her old coffee. After refilling the cup, she handed it and the sugar container to her mother. “He told you when you started dating that he worked late sometimes.” Part of her wanted to kick herself. Defending Kirk made her stomach turn, but she hated to see her mother this upset.
“He did, didn’t he?” She perked up a little at this. “You really don’t think he’s losing interest?”
“He’s probably just busy.” Alex sighed. How was she supposed to know what a forty-something year old male did with his time? She hated having to speculate for her mother. “But would it really be so horrible, mom, if he and you didn’t work out?”
Her mother stared at her for a moment. “But Kirk is the one.”
‘Then how could it not work out?’ Alex started to ask, but stopped herself. Predestination was not a topic she could see her mother enjoying at two in the morning.
“You’re probably right,” Alex stretched. “So, you want me to put Toad to bed?”
“W
ait a minute, young lady. We’ve still got to talk about why you were so late tonight.” Her mother stopped her when she headed for the door. “Sit down.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“Yes, it will. It’s been happening a lot recently.”
“I know.” Alex took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry.”
“I was worried. I even called Sean’s mother looking for you.” Her mother’s nose crinkled in displeasure. “Do you know what that horrible woman actually said to me?”
Alex shook her head.
“She told me, and I quote, that ‘as a stay at home mother I don’t have these problems. I know where my son is.’ Can you believe her?”
“I know, she’s horrible. She drives Sean crazy doing things like ironing creases in jeans.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “What a waste of time. I almost told her ‘Well, good for you, but I didn’t marry someone’s bank account so I could sit around and let my butt expand!’”
Alex giggled. She wished her mother would act like that to people more often. She would have been much more interesting then.
“Um, Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not in any trouble, are you?” She asked.
“Huh? Like what?”
“I mean, you’re not on drugs, are you?”
“NO!” Alex exclaimed. She’d smoked a few cigarettes in her life, but didn’t feel up to losing the brain cells associated with anything harder.
“And you haven’t been drinking, have you?”
“Here,” she said leaving across the table. “Smell my breath. It’s minty fresh.”
“Okay, good.” She paused. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Jeez, mom, where do you come up with this stuff? Have you been watching those afternoon talk shows again? Seriously, no. I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, thank God.” Her mother took a sip of her coffee. “Because I’m so not ready to be a grandmother.”
“Well, it’s not something you have to worry about.” She thought for a second. “Wait. Who did you think I was…um…having relations with?”