Blood Lust

by T. Lynne Tolles

  “And I am thrilled that you did, Bernard. It would be an honor.”

  “May I say that you look absolutely stunning, Miss.”

  “Thank you, again, Bernard.” She grabbed his arm and they headed for the dining room. Sammy was waiting for them at the top of the stairs with his ball.

  “Not now, Sammy. You’re going to trip me in these heels and that won’t go over too well if we have to make a trip to the hospital.”

  Bernard chuckled as he led her down the stairs and into the dining room. At the door he stopped and all the gentlemen stood at her entrance.

  “Darby, you look lovely. Thank you for joining us,” Dominic said. Bernard led her around the table to her seat, pulling it out for her, and handing her a napkin. He then returned to his duties in the kitchen. The men in the room all seated themselves.

  Dominic introduced his son. “Darby, I would like to introduce you to my son, Anton. Anton, this is Miss Darby O’Rielly, Devon’s guest.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

  “Likewise,” she responded. “How are you feeling this evening? Any better? It’s certainly nice to see you out and about.”

  “I’m good, thank you for asking,” Anton said. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was very pale, even for a vampire. He looked about Devon’s age. His hair was lighter and much shorter, more or less a buzz cut. He was thin but muscular and she couldn’t tell in this lighting, but his eyes were either blue or green. With an arrogant air about him, and a stern expression, he was polite, but didn’t seem to be enjoying himself in the slightest. He showed absolutely no emotion during the conversation, much like Devon the last few days. She wondered if Dominic hadn’t forced this meal on him. She wasn’t sure if it was her company or Devon’s that bothered Anton more. She tried to ignore the unpleasantries and focused instead on Dominic’s funny anecdotes.

  It was apparent that Devon was trying to be cordial to Anton, and Anton was trying to be pleasant back, but the tension in the room was thick. Dominic, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself, talking about the time when all three boys ran around, inseparable. He spoke of happy times when Abby and Nathaniel would come to visit with the boys. He also spoke of Sophia and how lovely she had been. So much death had befallen this family in such a short period, no wonder the house felt so cold, Darby thought.

  Anton spoke. “Dad, I forgot to mention I spoke with Libby today and when she heard that Devon was here, she insisted on visiting. She should be here in a few days. Hope you don’t mind.” He smiled devilishly at Devon and the room went silent except for the crackling in the fireplace behind Anton.

  Dominic broke the silence. “Do you think that is a good idea, Anton?”

  “Why not? She’s family after all.” Anton smirked.

  Dominic was displeased. Devon seemed to be fuming, but trying to keep it under control.

  Darby asked, “Who’s Libby?”

  Dominic looked down at his plate, not making eye contact, as did Devon. Anton answered almost joyfully, “Devon hasn’t told you? Libby is my wife.” Darby wasn’t sure what to make of Devon’s reaction to this. Dominic obviously had decided to stay out of it.

  Darby said, “Oh, right! Blake said you had been married, he just wasn’t sure if you still were. I’m glad to hear you’ve made it through whatever turmoil you had experienced. Marriage is so hard this day and age. It will be so nice to have another gal around to talk to.” As she said this she looked around the room at the men’s expressions: Anton’s was amused, Dominic’s was horrified, and Devon’s was enraged.

  What the heck is going on here? Darby thought. Anton, as if hearing her comment, shook his head, smirked, and laughed under his breath. Devon was none to pleased and it was at that moment that Darby tried to close her mind to all in the room. She wasn’t sure if she could be completely successful in a room full of telepathic vampires, but she tried her best.

  Once dinner was out of the way, Anton quickly excused himself, as did Devon, leaving Dominic and Darby at the table.

  Darby said, “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, my dear. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “But Devon looked positively livid,” she pressed.

  “Not at you, my dear. Has Devon told you nothing of Libby?” Dominic asked.

  “No. Should he have? I’ve never heard her name spoken by Devon or Blake. All Blake told me was that Anton was married but wasn’t sure if he still was. Why?”

  “Well, it’s not really my place to say, but I am surprised. Given his reaction though, maybe I’m not that surprised.”

  “You people and ‘It’s not my place to say’ – if I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that in the past few months…well, I’d have…a bunch of nickels, that’s what I’d have.”

  Dominic chuckled and took a last sip of wine, wiped his mouth, and stood up. “Well, if Libby is coming, then I will need my sleep. I will see you in the morning?”

  She nodded, smiled, and then turned to stare at the fire. Talk about clearing a room. Bernard came in just then to clear dishes. “Bernard, why won’t any of these men open up to me?”

  “It’s our nature to keep things bottled up, Miss. I suppose opening up to someone can be perceived as weakness and we wouldn’t want to be perceived as such in the company of, say, someone as beautiful as you.” She smiled at his compliment.

  “Do you happen to know where Devon has gone?”

  “Yes, I saw him go down to the cottage a few moments ago.”

  Chapter 6

  Darby grabbed an afghan off a chair in the foyer and wrapped it tight around her. She opened the front door and headed down to the cottage. They called it a cottage, but it was actually a bit bigger than the house she lived in. It really was quite lovely, Darby thought, nestled among some trees with a view of the pond from the porch. Other than the porch light and a fire in the fireplace, it didn’t appear that any other lights were lit.

  The snow was pretty much gone, but it was still brutally cold and slippery in a pair of high heels. She slowly made her way down to the cottage, carefully placing her feet. She tried to avoid anything that looked like a puddle or mud and had been pretty successful until just before she got to the porch. The leather sole of her shoe hit what must have been black ice and she almost fell. Catching herself on the porch pillar, she let out a little squeal. Devon heard this and opened the door to find her grasping onto the pillar, the afghan at her feet. He held out his hand to help her to the porch and picked up the afghan.

  “Would you like to come in?” he said.

  “I would,” she answered through chattering teeth.

  She stepped inside the lovely cottage, gazing at the beautiful decor. The most striking feature was the intricately crafted stone fireplace that took up most of the wall. At the moment though, the only thing Darby could think of was heat. She headed for the fire. She turned to see her handsome vampire brooding in front of the fire with his hands in his pockets.

  “I don’t suppose you want to talk? You looked like you were about to explode in there. I’m here, you know! Here for you and only you. I love you, Devon.”

  He smiled slightly as he glanced at her, and then went back to his brooding with one hand on the mantel and one in his pocket. Wordlessly, she sat on the loveseat behind her and brought a quilt around her tightly. If he wanted to speak he would. She tried to keep her thoughts, doubts, and questions swirling around in her head hidden from him. He need only know she was there for his comfort.

  Devon had taken off his dinner jacket and untied his bow tie, but he still looked like a picture out of a GQ magazine. The golden glow from the fire on his face, further defined his striking features. He was deep in his own thoughts, far away from this room. She wished she could comfort him, but he just didn’t seem reachable.

  What could possibly be so bad? And how does Libby play into this? She had come up with all kinds of crazy scenarios in her head, but none of them seemed to match what she saw
in Devon. She watched him and stayed with him for an hour, maybe two, all the while he stood there at the fireplace like a sentry.

  Finally, she could barely keep her eyes open. Toasty warm from the fire and the quilt, she hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. She was fighting with all her might to stay awake and enjoy this tiny bit of time with him even if he said nothing at all. She stood up, folded the quilt, and slipped on her shoes. Devon didn’t move. She wasn’t sure that he even knew she was there. He seemed to be made of stone except for the rising and falling of his chest with each breath he took. She held him from behind for a moment and stepped to his side. She brushed hair away from his eyes and kissed his cheek ever so softly. As she put her forehead to his cheek, she ran her fingertip under his chin and down his neck over his Adam’s apple and stopped when her fingers met his shirt. There was no reaction from him, whatsoever. She leaned back and kissed his cheek again and stared at his unchanging face. She stepped back, saddened by him and for him. She turned, grabbed the afghan she had brought with her, wrapped it around her, and opened the door. With one last look at him she whispered, “I love you, Devon Bloomington, with all my heart.” She turned and closed the door and headed up to the main house.

  She felt as cold as the air around her. Her heart ached like a shaft of ice had just sliced through her. There was no breeze, no moon, and no noise but the sound of her footsteps. She looked back once to see if he had watched her, but he hadn’t. She knew in her heart he had not moved from his spot at the fireplace. How could so much have changed between us in so little time?

  When she was about one hundred feet from the main house, a gust of wind came out of nowhere, almost knocking her off her feet. She could have sworn she felt something sharp scrape her cheek and ribs. She gasped as she felt her face and side, and picked up her pace. As she turned to look back at the cottage, she thought she heard a woman laughing, the sound carrying on another gust of wind and that’s when Darby shut the door and stepped backwards into the foyer. Safe behind the door she could now feel that her beautiful dress was ripped as if with four evenly spaced razors. Her other hand moved to her face again. Welts were forming on her cheek. How could this be?

  She ascended the stairs and went to her room. She closed the door and grabbed her jammies from her bag and headed for the huge bathroom. First she inspected her cheek, and yes, there were four distinct red welts on her face. No blood had been drawn, but something had scratched her in the wind. Now wide awake from adrenaline, she decided a hot bath might soothe her heart and her cold feet. As she drew the bath, she found some candles and lit them. She very carefully slipped out of the beautiful dress and hung it on the back of the door on a hook. That’s when she could see four razor cuts on her side. These had drawn blood. Not a lot, but enough to scare her. Well, nothing to do about it now; a good soak will get any infection out, she thought, and with that she climbed into the tub.

  As her body got acclimated to the heat of the bath water and the stinging subsided in her wounds, her muscles relaxed and the sweet smell of the candles wafted through the humid air of the bathroom. She thought a long while about Devon; his face like porcelain standing in front of the fireplace. He seemed almost as if under some kind of spell. She wondered if she would ever get through to him. Then she thought of the strange wind that came up on her, scratching her, and the horrible laughter. What a strange night. She soaked in the bath for twenty minutes or so, and then dried off and found a first aid kit with some gauze and tape and put a patch over her wounded ribs. Then she put on her soft new jammies.

  How wonderful new flannel feels against skin, like the fuzzy softness of the inside of a new sweatshirt, or a brand new pair of fluffy socks, she thought. It made her smile as she drained the tub, blew out the candles, and turned off the light. Not quite ready to go to bed, she grabbed her Jim Butcher book, and read the rest of it that night.

  She woke in the morning to tapping on the door. “Come in, Bernard, good morning,” she said as she raked the hair out of her face.

  Bernard smiled at her. “Good morning, Miss. How was your evening? Did you and Master Devon talk? Sort things out?”

  She turned towards him to answer and he gasped. “Dear Lord, Miss. What happened to your cheek?”

  “That’s a lot of questions for someone who hasn’t had any coffee yet, Bernard. Lets see; Okay, no, no, and I got scratched by something in the wind on the way up to the house last night.”

  “Excuse me?” Bernard said bewildered.

  “The rest of my evening was okay. No, Devon and I didn’t talk. No, Devon and I didn’t sort anything out, and I got scratched by something in a gust of wind on the way back up to the house last night.”

  “Oh. Well, maybe we should have a doctor take a look at that.”

  “I don’t think it’s necessary. The skin wasn’t even broken, just a couple of welts.” She went to the bathroom mirror as she spoke. How odd, she thought. The swelling of the welts had not gone down; they were just as red and raised as they had been the night before. She grabbed her hoodie, putting it on as she walked to the door, and followed Bernard down to the dining room.

  As before, Devon was reading the paper when she entered. Anton had joined them and hid himself behind a newspaper. Dominic looked up as she entered the room and said, “Dear child, what happened to you? Are you okay?”

  Devon dropped the paper down to look, as did Anton. Facing away from them as she got coffee and a muffin, she answered, “It’s nothing, I’m fine. Something scratched me, is all.”

  “What was it, dear? How?” Dominic persisted.

  “I’m not sure. It was the weirdest thing.”

  She turned back towards the table giving Devon a view of her face.

  “Geez!” he said and practically jumped in his seat.

  “It’s not that bad, is it? Just a little swollen,” she said bringing her hand to her face as if a little embarrassed by his reaction.

  “Weird?” Dominic persisted. “What happened, Darby?”

  “I was walking back up to the house after sitting down in the cottage for a while…” She glanced at Devon to see his reaction. “…and out of nowhere a huge gust of wind passed me, nearly knocking me down. As it passed, it felt as though a claw or nails raked across my face and…” She decided not to mention the wound on her ribs. “I could have sworn too that…no, it’s silly, never mind.”

  She looked at Devon again, and thought of that disapproving look he had given her when she suggested taking breakfast to Anton. She figured she’d best not mention a wicked woman’s laughing on the wind. He’d have me locked up in a psyche ward.

  Dominic said, “Laughing? You heard laughing?”

  She had totally forgotten to close her mind to them. One of the drawbacks of living with vampires; they can read every thought you have, but you have no idea what they are thinking. “Um, well yes, I thought I heard a woman’s laughter, but that’s silly. There was no one around.”

  Dominic looked at her with concern, and Anton’s eyes met Dominic’s as if they were speaking telepathically. “Maybe we should have a doctor look at you wounds.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m sure the swelling will go down soon.”

  “Well, if it doesn’t go down by this evening, I’m sending for a doctor,” Dominic said.

  She nodded, disappointed by Devon’s lack of concern. At least Dominic was concerned about her. She had breakfast in silence and the men resumed their places behind a newspaper. Anton was the first to excuse himself, then Devon, again leaving Darby and Dominic in the huge room together. When he thought Devon was out of earshot, Dominic dropped the paper and asked, “My dear, are you quite sure you are okay? Are you telling me everything?”

  “Sure, Dominic, I’m fine. It was probably just a twig I didn’t see in the wind. No big deal.”

  “Hmm,” he said as if he didn’t believe her. “Did you and Devon have a talk last night? I saw you head down to the cottage – Bernard told me Devon was dow
n there.”

  “Oh, well no, we didn’t. He invited me in, but never said a word to me, not even goodbye. It was like he was somewhere else. I’ve never seen him like this before. Is he going to be all right? I’m trying to give him space, but I feel like I am losing my grip on him, as if he is being pulled away from me somehow. I don’t know what to do for him. I feel like everything I say or do is wrong.”

  “Oh, Darby, I’m sorry this is hurting you so. Hmm. So he said absolutely nothing last night?”

  “No, not a word. I sat down there for at least an hour maybe two or three. He never moved or said a thing. If it weren’t for his breathing I would have thought him dead.”

  “I was so hoping he would talk to you about…well, things.”

  Darby’s temper flared at the all too familiar evasion. “Yes, ‘things.’ That would be nice if someone would tell the dumb blonde what the hell is going on.”

  She realized she’d cursed and was immediately embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, Dominic, I’m frustrated, I should just…” she said as she started to get up.

  As she did so, Dominic noticed a large spot of blood soaking through her hoodie.

  “You didn’t tell me everything, did you, dear?” She knew instantly to what he was referring and her hand went to her side, leaving her fingertips wet and red. The room faded to gray as her knees weakened and she started to go down.

  Having the agility, strength, and speed of a vampire, Dominic was able to get out of his chair, jump the table, and catch her before she hit the floor. He bellowed for Bernard, who was instantly at his side, despite being an ordinary elderly human. “Oh no! What’s happened, Master Dominic?”

  “Well, Bernard, I think we have a few problems, but the first is, we need to get her to a hospital. Can you call Dr. Rowe and have him meet us there?”

  “Immediately, Master Dominic.”

  “And let the boys know where we are going. Anton will probably not be strong enough to come, but Devon most certainly will want to go with us.”