“Of course. To both of the above. It gave me a very interesting insight,” Jack answers and takes the papers. “Where can I sign them?”
“In the library,” says Wilson and leads him away, while I cast a stolen glance up the stairs, looking for Noah. Maybe he really wasn't back yet and I can simply put it all behind me and forget it. After all, nothing happened, and nothing would have happened either. It was just a strange moment. I'm satisfied with this explanation I give myself and I follow Wilson and Jack into the library.
“Oh, I see you got my little gift,” the latter remarks as I walk in and points to the roses with his pen.
“I didn't have a chance yet to thank you, but really, you shouldn't have,” I answer and avoid his gaze.
“I meant what I wrote, you know,” he adds and hands the signed papers back to Wilson. Crap, for a moment I don't know what to say and glance over to the trash can, in which the corner of the unopened, pastel envelope is still visible.
“Thank you,” are then the words which, combined with a smile, seem most harmless to me. “For your trouble too, and for even coming personally to pick up the paintings. Now I'm afraid I have to excuse myself, I have an urgent phone call to make I completely forgot about,” I say to force a goodbye and reach for my phone.
“Of course. I've taken up enough of your time and I have to be off anyway, plenty of things awaiting my attention. But let me say once more what a pleasure it is to act as your art dealer.” He holds out his hand and this time I can't avoid taking it. And there it is again – this strange, loaded sensation which feels surprisingly good yet unsettles me at the same time, because I can't explain it and because I don't want to feel it.
“The pleasure is all mine. Goodbye,” I answer with a pounding heart. I only glance at him fleetingly and release his hand again immediately. All business once more, I give Wilson a nod and he accompanies Jack out. I turn and take a deep breath. Only once my heartbeat slows do I type Airas's number into my cell phone. After five rings his voicemail answers and his familiar voice invites me to please leave a message.
“Hey, big brother, where are you? Whose butt are you saving right now? I miss you. You okay? Guess what? Soon there is actually going to be an exhibition of my paintings. In Paris! There are a few other things I wanted to tell you, but not over the phone. Do you know when you'll be back yet? Call me, okay? Bye.”
No, I definitely won't tell him about this weird thing between me and Jack. He might not take my feelings for Noah seriously anymore and misinterpret it as me being interested in other men or wanting to make up for lost time now that I've left my innocence behind and been physically intimate with someone without killing them.
Yet I'm sure none of that is even remotely true. But how could I explain that to Airas? And what Noah means to me by now too, and how much more it is than a purely physical attraction. Although that aspect does seem to be incredibly strong and insatiable. No, I won't tell him anything about something I don't understand myself. But I want to tell him about Blake, and how death is predetermined. I want to tell him about Summer and my initial, violent reaction to Noah's request that I feed off her before she died anyway. About how I've given this a lot of thought and now believe this is the better option, rather than making Airas continue to be accessory to my sins. Because Noah doesn't normally select the people. He just senses their imminent death. Even if I'm only switching from one type of dependence to another and I'm still not really free, it feels more like my path than the one I was previously on. Yes, I want to tell him all this, and I'm really hoping he can understand.
I decide to go upstairs and await Noah's return there, but as I'm leaving the library my gaze falls on the trash can once more, and the envelope which is visibly sticking out between a few screwed up balls of paper. 'I meant what I wrote, you know.'
Driven by sudden curiosity I now fish the envelope out after all and tear it open.
For an extraordinary and enchanting artist and woman.
Jack
In the instant I read it I wish I'd left the letter where it was. It only causes me unnecessary worry. Maybe it's simply a harmless token from one businessperson to another and I'm reading too much into it because my emotions seem to get a bit mixed up in his presence.
“Hey.” Noah's voice pulls me from my thoughts. I turn around in fright and feel like I've been caught in the act. Has he been there long? My nose didn't alert me this time anyway. Damn it, why do I have a guilty conscience? There's no reason I should. I didn't do anything to justify these feelings of guilt. Nothing happened.
And what about what you felt? my inner voice asks, sticking the knife in.
“Nice roses,” he says and nods toward the imposing bouquet on the desk.
“It's a thank you from the art dealer who is planning an exhibition of my paintings,” I explain and try to smile away my unease, not for the first time today.
“Weird guy.”
“Did you see him?”
“Yes, I did.” His gaze is so penetrating and searching that I'm now sure he was there when I was thrown onto Jack during the earthquake.
“There's something about him I don't like, but he's definitely right.” Noah gestures to the card in my hand and I feel the tell-tale heat rising in my cheeks once more.
“Should I be worried?” His voice is a little husky, but his words sound calm and deliberate.
“No. No, you don't need to worry. I can explain. . .”
“Shh.” He lays his forefinger on my lips and interrupts me. “That's all I need to know.”
25
Amkaya
I don't know what woke me, but the place beside me in bed is empty and there is no sign of Noah. I must have been lying here for fifteen minutes, listening to the sounds of the house, but everything around me is still quiet at this early hour. The thought that he might not come back burrows its way first into my mind, then my heart. Everything may have seemed to be okay between us for the past few days, but I still felt he was holding back and something lay between us, getting in the way of our laughter, our kisses, our love. It was only an almost imperceptible nuance of change, only a minute deviation, and yet, to me, it was so noticeable. Even just from the fact that although we kissed, he didn't really seek out closeness with me, and avoided further attempts at intimacy on my part.
What if I've stuffed it up? Wasn't it way too good to last? Is this the beginning of the end? Even if I don't really believe it, I still can't get the doubts out of my head and wonder if I simply don't deserve to be happy.
I crawl feebly out of bed and try to escape my destructive thoughts.
A glance at my cell phone tells me I still haven't got a reply from Airas. He seems to be pretty busy on the East Coast. There's no message from Noah on the display either, but I didn't expect that anyway. He may be able to control modern technology, but he doesn't seem to be a big fan of it.
Still not quite awake, I drag myself into the bathroom with the intention of showering and getting some life back into me before I do anything else. I avoid looking in the new mirror, because I'm afraid now might not be a good time. I feel my fragile and unstable condition only too clearly, yet at the same time also the fear in me and anger about my own weakness. Come on, you can do this. I give myself a good talking to and force myself to look at my reflection. I blink. Once, twice and I'm amazed at how calm and relaxed my expression is in spite of everything. Probably I'm just making myself crazy again with my thought carousel.
The scent of patchouli and vanilla, and the warm water of the rain shower which pours down deliciously on me, really do increase my feeling of wellbeing very quickly. The gray clouds in my head evaporate and I'm slowly starting to relax when a noise makes me jump. I spin around in fright and see Noah before me. Only two steps away, he stares at me hauntingly. His gaze wanders unmistakably over my body and comes to rest on my eyes. He doesn't move, only his teeth chew lightly on his lower lip. The unconcealed longing in his eyes quickens my pulse and makes my k
nees weak. I notice an uncontrollable trembling in my hands and try to hide my rapid breathing.
Wordlessly, he slips his white t-shirt over his head, carelessly lets it fall to the floor beside him and joins me under the shower, barefoot and only wearing his jeans. In just a few moments water is dripping from his dark hair and I have no time to catch my breath. His kisses on my neck, my lips have nothing in common with the tender kisses of the past couple of days. They're forceful and demanding, and he presses me to him as if he'd lost me and only now found me once more, desperate to never let go of me again.
Although my body is enjoying his unbridled passion, I can't switch off my brain and the questions inside it. Why does he first keep his distance for days on end and then positively pounce on me? What's going on inside him? Is it the same as with me when he killed Blake, giving rise to so many feelings and thoughts within me that I was incapable of talking about it and chose body language instead? What is he trying to say to me? That he forgives me my moment of weakness and confusion in relation to Jack? I seem to be better at conveying silent messages than interpreting them, since I'm still not sure what's going on with him. His body is so heated, I get the feeling he could easily compete with the warm shower water which rains down on us incessantly. Droplets of water pearl on his eyelashes, and his soft lips, which seek out mine again and again, seem increasingly hard. He is holding me so tight now it almost hurts, pressing me against the tiles. Equally painful is the look of passion on his beautiful face, so close to me and yet so far away. He lets me go unexpectedly. I close my eyes a moment, trembling, and take a deep breath. When I open them, they meet his blue eyes, which don't leave me for a second, while he unzips his soaking wet pants, only to press himself up against me once more. Yes, I want to feel him, to be as close to him as physically possible, and that's exactly the problem, because I feel that something is between us and so I can't really let myself go.
“Noah,” I sigh as I try to slow him down, and even I have to admit it doesn't really sound like a stop signal.
“Amy,” he murmurs back and can't hold back anymore. With a forceful motion he lifts me up, pulls my legs around his hips and thrusts into me, breathing heavily. Suddenly he's talking to me in that language I don't understand once more. It seems to be the only language that is inaccessible to me, and the one he slips into when he loses control. He told me it was Enochian, the magical language of angels, which his father Ohajah learned from his father, the archangel Shemichaza, and passed down to him.
As he pushes me passionately against the wall over and over, he repeats the same words incessantly, and I feel words rising within me too, words I can no longer hold back.
“No!” It's almost a scream which slips out of my throat, and I grab him hard by the hair for emphasis. “Say it so I can understand. Tell me what the words mean.”
For a moment he hesitates and looks perplexed, but then he comes out of his daze and presses as close and deep inside me as physically possible, bringing his mouth right up beside my ear.
“Don't leave me. You can't leave me. Promise me you won't leave me.” Although he says the words softly and doesn't look at me as he does, I hear the desperation in them and the fear of losing me. Does he really not know Jack is no threat to him, and I wouldn't even dream of leaving him? As uncertain as I am about what it was that happened between Jack and me, I'm all the more certain it has nothing to do with Noah and me. Nothing has changed about my feelings for him.
“Never, you fool,” I whisper and cling to him, moved by his vulnerability. “You'll never lose me, not to anyone or anything as long as I live. And when I die, I come back to you too.”
He groans quietly and carries me through the steamy room, all the way to the counter where he puts me down carefully and pulls out of me. His hands lie gently on my shoulders at first and his fingertips stroke my skin, before coming to rest on my face. His lips approach my mouth, which automatically opens slightly, but he doesn't kiss me, rather he gives me a meaningful look. For a moment I get the feeling I'm going to drown in his blue eyes, they're pulling me in so deep.
“Do you even realize how completely your heart-shaped cheeks and profound eyes have me under their spell? You're a miracle. My goddamned miracle. And don't go thinking I haven't been longing for you the past few days. But you need to know, it's more than just this here. So if I lose the plot a bit like just now, then it's only because the thought of losing you makes me crazy. It really makes me crazy.”
I feel like my heart is erupting inside my chest. Can he see the euphoria, which rushes through my whole body, in my eyes? Judging by the look on his face, he can.
“Hmm.” Now I'm the one biting my lower lip seductively. “Like I said, you're not getting rid of me, but. . .”
“But what?” Little lines appear on his forehead and his eyes narrow slightly.
“Can you show me again, I mean, how crazy it makes you?”
“Uhhh,” a quiet rumble comes from his throat and his eyes sparkle. His warm hands rest on the naked skin of my hips and pull me firmly forward.
“Don't you want to take these off first?” I give a sideways tug on his open jeans, which are still clinging damply to his body.
“Crazy people have no time for things like that. You do want an authentic demonstration, don't you?” His cheeky grin is adorable.
As his warmth penetrates me again my eyes close. There is nothing between us anymore to restrain the trembling within me and I know I'm going to explode.
26
Ramon
I had thought I'd succeeded in getting away from the other vampires unnoticed in Almería, until I felt eyes on my back and turned around. Skin's gleaming eyes positively bored into me and I knew at that moment he'd seen through me. We stared darkly at one another and I prepared myself for the worst. For a bitter fight in which I didn't expect my chances to be very good, since he was much older and stronger than me. But to my surprise, Skin suddenly turned and disappeared into a dark alley. I guessed he knew my escape was his chance. A chance to get back his privileges with Violette.
I knew I'd have to put a great distance behind me that night, although I only had a few hours left until sunrise, and I'd have to cover my tracks well. So I swam long distances along the Andarax before running northward again on land toward the slopes of Sierra Alhamilla. I reached my goal in time thanks to the speed I possessed as a vampire. Just before the break of dawn I hid in one of the caves which had been created through the extraction of ore there. I could smell that no human had entered these mines for a very long time. It was cold and uncomfortable in the deserted tunnels, but I didn't mind lying on the stone floor and waiting for the next night to begin. Anything was better than spending another night on the ship with Violette. The rage toward my creator I'd felt so strongly only hours before had given way to melancholy. What became clear to me that night though, was that God had abandoned me, and my head was full of thoughts, memories and questions.
In the following nights I ran further inland and hoped the constant change in location would help cover my tracks. With time I stayed longer and longer in places that offered good conditions. I didn't need much. A safe place to lay my head and every so often something to feed on. I had made the transition to animal blood. Apart from the wild animals I hunted, I also occasionally killed cattle in pastures or in stables when the hunger got too much for me. I never again wanted to kill a human. A resolution I wasn't always able to keep, but which remained deeply anchored within me in spite of the slip-ups and which I still tried hard to stick to.
Then in 1821 I found a hiding place in northern Spain, on the outermost limits of Valladolid, where I thought myself somewhat safe from Violette and her crew, and during the daytime also safe from humans and sunlight. I lived a solitary life, unworthy of a human being, but I was no longer a human being anyway. The only things that got me through those years were a half dozen books I stole and through which I escaped reality time and again. I never tired of reading them, even
reading them aloud to myself, until the characters between the covers became dear to me, like old friends.
Early in 1856 I left the Valladolid region, because I felt pulled to the southern parts of Spain once more. I neared my old hometown, but only in 1870, after a half a century, did I find a deserted shepherd's hut a distance away from the mountain village Bubión, where I made my home. I laid a new wooden floor and dug a room beneath it, which I also lined with wooden planks I'd taken from another deserted hut I came upon further north. During the day, I hid myself away in this room beneath the shepherd's hut. In the evenings, when I wasn't hunting wild animals or on one of my forays which lasted for hours, I stayed above my underground shelter. I read or made furniture out of wood into which I carved elaborate embellishments. I sealed the leaky roof of my abode with loam so that no more rain could get in.
I didn't dare go any closer to my home town Almería by the seaside, but even there in the wild, hilly landscape of the Sierra Nevada I was surrounded by the familiar scents of my childhood. My mother had taken me there very often, because her family came from the village Pampaneira which lay further south. The houses of the region were very similar. They were whitewashed, cube-shaped houses with flat rooves which frequently served as balconies for the houses above.
Depending on the season, it smelled like lemons, oranges and cherries or fig, almond and mulberry trees. Countless aromas that hit my nose even more intensely now than when I was human. Even though I didn't need human food anymore, the scent alone was still balsam for my soul, or whatever was left of it.
In May of the year 1878 the sounds I heard above me in the hut as I lay below in my hiding place drew my undivided attention, standing out amidst the monotony of my days and nights. I had become careless with time and hadn't locked the door, since as good as no-one ever even came near the old hut. But now in addition to footsteps, a violent sobbing and crying found its way down to me from above and made me highly curious. So curious, that in spite of the risk of being seen, I lifted one of the planks overhead slightly to peek into the room. The evening light shone through the dirty window, but my hideout was carefully concealed in the safety of the shadows on the other side of the hut. The sight now revealed surprised me. A young girl in a long, white shirtdress sat at my table, her head bowed to rest on her forearms. Her shoulders shook as she continued to cry quietly.
The Night Within Us: Dark Vampire Romance Page 17