by Zoë Fox
“But aren’t they friends?” Sean couldn’t see how anyone would willingly spend time with Roderick, but then again, he didn’t understand how his best friend was becoming romantically involved with someone who only breathed some of the time.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“So, you want me to organize these on the shelf based on their date, right?” Alex asked as she rifled through a box full of the CDs Roderick had given Lucas. There were hundreds of them and every last one was filled to capacity with word documents.
Lucas looked up from writing in his notebook. Inwardly, Alex prayed he’d taken her plea to heart and was focusing on his penmanship. At this rate, she was going to need glasses before the end of the year, if she had to continue squinting in order to figure out what he’d scribbled down.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. It’s just that there’s a lot of them.” She paused. “Do you really need all of these?”
He nodded. “Although Roderick has a tendency to include more personal commentary in his notes than is necessary, I am sure there is still a wealth of information stored on those little metallic discs.”
“If your computer blows up, it is so not my fault.” She had an image of the device absolutely refusing to work after being loaded down with so much information.
Lucas didn’t respond. He’d been quiet for most of the night and Alex was beginning to wonder if he was still bothered by their kiss. So far, he hasn't mentioned it. He’d been bent over his notes when she arrived and had barely moved.
“Have I done something?” She was tired of wondering. At least this way they could get everything out in the open.
“No. Why?” He asked absently as he continued to write.
“Well, you’ve barely spoken since I got here.”
He glanced at her and then back to his paper, confused. “I am writing,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“Yeah, I know that.” She rolled her eyes. “But you’re always working on something. Usually you talk anyway.”
He put his pen down. “Is there something that you wish to speak to me about?”
“No.” She hesitated in saying this. “I was just commenting on how quiet you’ve been.”
He nodded again. “If that is all…” He trailed off, resuming his work.
A few moments passed. The silence in the room was only punctuated by the sound of Alex placing CD cases on one of the bookshelves.
This is stupid, she thought. Was he still weirded out or was he just that involved with his work? She couldn’t tell. Maybe he wished he hadn’t kissed her. Maybe his silence was his way of showing that he wanted her to go away. She’d never had to deal with this sort of situation before. One part of her didn’t want to know, while the other demanded an answer. But what if she asked and he told her that he regretted that moment? Then she’d wish she’d have kept her mouth shut. But if she didn’t say anything…
“I’m not,” He said quietly, interrupting her train of thought.
“Not what?” She asked, placing another case on the shelf.
“You were worrying that I regret kissing you. I’m not, therefore I said as much. In actuality, I am rather glad we shared that moment.” He didn’t look up from his writing.
She glared at him. “I thought I told you to stay out of my head.”
“It is impossible for me not to hear your thoughts when you are thinking so loudly.” He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.
Alex could feel the blood creeping up into her face. “I thought you couldn’t read minds without trying?”
“In most instances that is correct.” He turned the page in front of him and began writing on a fresh sheet. “However, I feel rather connected to you, which makes it harder to tune your thought patterns out. Most of the time, I am able to do so by sheer will power and concentration. At the moment, I am extremely focused on my work, which in turn, means that I will struggle not to hear you. Add in the intensity of your worry and hearing your thoughts is almost impossible for me to do.”
Facing the bookshelf, she smiled. She liked the idea of him feeling ‘connected’ to her. And knowing that he was glad they’d kissed, well, that was a weight off her shoulders.
Involved in her own thoughts, Alex reached down to grab another CD to add to the line she had already organized and ran her hand across the open flap of the cardboard box, cutting herself.
“Oww!” She whimpered, cupping her hand to her.
Lucas was beside her immediately. His forgotten pen hit the floor a second later.
“Are you alright?” He reached for her hand, the smell of her blood filling his nostrils. It was rich and strong, but wild, an intoxicating mixture he could almost taste. Involuntarily, he’d swallowed, his stomach clenching from the combination of hunger and desire.
“Oh, yeah. I just got like the worst type of papercut in the world.”
“Let me see it.”
“It’s fine.” She was slightly embarrassed. “It just shocked me.”
He stared at her intensely. “Let me see it.”
She released her hand and held it up for his inspection. The way she’d cupped it had caused the blood to drip into her palm.
A muscle in Lucas’ jaw flexed, as he looked it over, trying to ignore his desire to run his tongue across the wound.
“It’s kind of like putting a bottle of liquor under an alcoholic’s nose and telling them not to drink it, huh?” She teased.
“Excuse me?”
“Putting blood in your face like this.”
“I asked. I wanted to make sure you are alright.”
“I told you I was. You could have taken my word for it.”
He nodded, letting go of her hand. “I apologize. You are correct. It is just that, when it comes to you, I am somewhat,” he paused, searching for the right word, “protective.”
She laughed. “An intolerable chauvinist is more like it.”
He smiled.
“Do you want it?”
He pulled back, slightly, surprised by her offer. “I thought you had a problem with the idea of me drinking your blood?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. I have a problem with you doing it without my permission. This is different.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
She liked that about him. His politeness, his concern for her. She nodded.
Slowly, Lucas lifted her cupped pam to his lips. A small pool of blood had formed. Bending over it, he touched his tongue lightly to her skin, lapping at the liquid. Had the sensation not been so thrilling, it would have reminded her vaguely of a kitten with a bowl of milk. Instead, it was extremely personal, intimate.
He placed his lips to the wound and allowed the flow of blood to trickle into his mouth instead of sucking at it to draw out more. She had given her permission for him to drink from the wound, but had not said whether or not he was allowed to drink from her in honest, if he was allowed to pull at the wound to increase the flow. Limiting himself was difficult, the hand he’d wrapped around her wrist shook with the effort. But it was worth it to avoid taking the risk of scaring or upsetting her.
“Don’t I have the best timing,” Roderick’s voice called from the office doorway. “So, little miss virginal is begging to crack.”
Alex glared at him.
Lucas gently flicked his tongue across the wound, closing it. He wished people would stop interrupting them. It seemed every time they got close someone stopped them.
“I was only closing a wound. She cut herself on one of the boxes,” Lucas responded.
“Really? Is that all you were doing?” Roderick raised an eyebrow. “Looked like you were enjoying yourself a little too much for it to be considered first aid.”
“Don’t you ever knock?” Alex asked, continuing to give him a dirty look. She’d been so concerned with whether or not Lucas was upset with her, she’d forgotten to mention to him that Roderick might be the man from her vision. Realizing he might have the same talents L
ucas possessed, Alex willed herself not to think about it. She doubted he would shy away from reading her mind.
“No. I don’t see the point in it when certain people always forget to lock their door.” He glanced over at Lucas. “Just because people no longer go out hunting for us, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take precautions. I’d hate to have to be the one to have to clean up your ashes because some nosey kid opened your coffin and exposed you to direct sunlight.”
“Why, Roderick, I had no idea you cared so much,” Lucas responded dryly.
Roderick chuckled. “I don’t. I just hate cleaning up ashes. They always end up all over your clothes. Who wants to spend the rest of their night brushing their dead acquaintance off the leg of their pants?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Did you want something or are you just here to annoy me?” She forced her mind to stay blank.
Roderick narrowed his eyes. He’d tried scanning her thoughts, but received nothing. Either Lucas had shared blood with her or she was trying to make sure he didn’t find something out. “What are you up to, little girl?”
“Nothing.” She said innocently. “But I don’t see where you get off calling anyone a ‘little girl’. You may be over a hundred, but you’ve got the emotional maturity of a badly trained monkey, so, you might want to avoid comments like that.”
The corner of his mouth rose just enough that she saw a flash of fang. He was trying to intimidate her, she realized. For some reason, it bothered him that she was afraid of him.
Behind her, Lucas was staring at Roderick, an expression of warning clear on his face. He was ready to strike if the other man so much as moved a finger in Alex’s direction.
Roderick straightened himself, obviously getting the point. His demeanor shifted completely, going from hostile to purposely nonchalant. “I found another disc and I thought you might want it.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another CD case. “Here,” he said, tossing it on the couch. “Clearly you two wish to be alone, so I will bid you adieu.”
He closed the office door behind him.
“So, he used to be your apprentice?” Alex asked, once Roderick was gone.
Lucas nodded. “I know it may be hard to believe, but he’s actually calmed down a good bit. He used to be really difficult.”
Alex stared at him in disbelief. “He’s not exactly enjoyable to be around now.”
“No,” Lucas sighed. “But he has a brilliant mind.”
“Yeah, and he’s probably a serial killer, but who cares about that, right?” Alex couldn’t wait any longer to discuss the details of her vision.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“What do you mean? You believe Roderick is a serial killer?” Lucas’ face showed his confusion. “His personality is an acquired taste, yes, but he truly is harmless.”
“Harmless? He almost bit me and Sean the first time we met him.”
“He was trying to scare you. He has an issue with power and boundaries. Time has, sadly, had little effect on that part of his nature.” Lucas picked up the pen he’d dropped when she hurt herself and placed it back on the desk.
“He’s got issues. I’ll agree to that. I just happen to think that one of them is tying women to chairs and completely draining them of their blood for his own sick satisfaction.” She ran a hand through her hair. “The thing is, the other night, he mentioned keeping his blood supply in white buckets in his fridge. Then, when Toad had Sean and I helped him lay that spirit to rest, I had a vision and the woman’s blood was being collected in white plastic buckets.”
“So? What is your point?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Roderick uses white buckets. The killer used white buckets. Put two and two together. Your friend is a crazy homicidal psycho.”
Lucas took a seat on the couch. “I believe that would be called a leap. A simple similarity like that is likely a coincidence.”
“Are you being serious? Who else needs a ready supply of blood? I mean, well, other than you.”
“Alex, human beings have been doing horrible things to each other for hundreds of thousands of years. I know that it may seem that the world is increasingly violent, but that is only because of the twenty-four-hour news coverage your brother enjoys so much.” He crossed his right leg over his left, placing his hands on his knee.
“Yeah, but that many victims, all found exsanguinated? The media is even calling the guy a vampire. Isn’t it a little much for a coincidence?” She sat down in the chair across from him.
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Interest in my kind is nothing new. We faced persecution for many years before it became unfashionable to believe we existed. Still, the fascination has remained in books and movies. It makes perfect sense that they would label, however incorrectly, a very sick individual with an unhealthy interest in blood, a vampire.”
“You don’t think it’s a little odd that I see the guy brought white buckets and Roderick admits to using them for the same reason?” She leaned forward. “Every time I close my eyes I feel like I see the whole scene again. It seems like something Roderick would do. Even you said he’s got a thing about power. A lot of serial killers are that way.”
“I am certain that, when the authorities locate the individual guilty of these crimes, you will find it is simply a rather ordinary human being with a difficult past that he has failed to overcome. In most cases, people who do these types of things have been severely abused, in one way or another, and are unable to connect with other living beings.” He thought for a second. “From what I can remember, Roderick had a fairly normal upbringing, for his time.”
“Then why does he need his silly power trips?” Alex was beginning to get a little frustrated.
“Roderick is, some would say, a jerk.” He paused. “That is the correct colloquialism, is it not?”
She nodded. “Yeah, he’s a jerk, but he’s more than that. He’s dangerous.”
Lucas leaned back against the couch. “I mean no disrespect, but he has yet to do anything to you that would justify that assertion.”
“Because treating me like he’d enjoy nothing more than to make an afternoon snack out of me isn’t enough.” She retorted.
“I have had a not dissimilar thought from time to time. Does that make me a likely candidate for your suspicions?” He asked calmly. He had indeed often thought about having a small taste of her blood, as she had allowed earlier that evening.
“Are you being difficult on purpose?” Her annoyance was obvious.
“I don’t believe so.” He said sincerely. “I am simply pointing out that it is possible you have come to an irrational conclusion based on your dislike for him and the alarming experience you had the other night.”
“I’m not being irrational,” she snapped. “You’re not listening.”
“Then explain it to me again. You believe Roderick is the person attacking these women, correct?”
She nodded.
“You have come to this decision based on a the few examples of his behavior that you have seen and your experience during the vision you received, correct?”
Again, she nodded.
“So, how is it that I’m not listening?”
She glared at him. “Fine. You’re listening, but you’re not understanding.”
“No, I believe I understand your point. I simply do not agree.”
“But you don’t seem to get it.”
He shook his head. “I disagree. I am fully aware of your feelings on this topic. My own differ from yours’, but that’s okay.”
She signed. “Luke, look, he’s capable of killing someone that way.”
“And I feel that is a highly judgmental statement based on little evidence.” Throughout the whole conversation his voice had remained perfectly level. He seemed incapable of passionate anger. For some reason that particular fact annoyed Alex.
“And I think you’re being a stubborn jackass who won’t look at the facts,” she said, the edge in her voice apparent.
Lucas
raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Another thing we do not agree on, madam.”
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean that. The whole thing has just got me on edge.”
“Which is exactly what I was saying a moment ago, before you decided that I was a ‘stubborn jackass’.” He crossed his arms across his chest stubbornly.
“Look, I said I’m sorry.”
“Actually,” he said pointedly. “You said nothing of the sort.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you said that you didn’t mean those words. You, however, did not, actually take the step and apologize for saying them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just being petty.”
“And stubborn, according to you.”
“Fine. Just forget I said anything.” She stood up and walked back to the bookshelf. She began to shove CD cases on to it loudly. He watched her quietly for a few moments before walking back to his desk and resuming his own work.
“You know, let’s just agree to disagree,” she said after a few minutes had passed, the room silent except for the sounds she made as she continued to organize.
He looked up at the sound of her voice, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I believe that is what I was suggesting from the beginning.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “And there you go, being petty again.”
“I apologize,” he responded, the smile growing.
“Yeah, so do I.” She sighed. “All I know is that I don’t ever want to find myself stuck in a room alone with him. I have no desire to relive what that woman went through again.”
“Understandable.” He paused. “Alex, you do realize that I would not allow anything to happen to you, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I just wish you could say the same for whoever that sick freak decides to go after next.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“For the last time, you need to put the plates in this way,” Kirk said angrily as he demonstrated to Alex exactly how he wanted the dishwasher loaded. “Now, take them all out and start over.”