William

by Claire Cray

  I floated behind us without a thought, watching Merrick climb the stairs, watching my own legs and boots dangling over his elbow. We entered another dark hallway, and then a bedroom lit only by the last traces of dusk and the flicker of lanterns on the balcony outside. Merrick laid me down upon the bed, straightening my clothes before moving down to pull off my boots. I was perfectly still, a look of bliss still painted on my features.

  Merrick set my boots on the floor and sat down on the bed beside me, reaching down to brush the hair from my forehead with a look of almost painful fondness. Then he lifted his own wrist to his mouth.

  There was a confusing moment of darkness, as though my eyes had fallen shut, and when I opened them I found myself back in my body. Merrick was holding his wrist against my lips, and his sweet blood was blooming over my tongue.

  "There you are," he murmured.

  I blinked at him drowsily; my hand had covered his wrist to hold it close. I swallowed my first sip of that strange elixir, and then, with a stifled moan, I closed my eyes and began to drink.

  "Yes," Merrick whispered, leaning over me with one elbow beside my head, his free hand stroking my hair. "That's it."

  My God, why hadn't he told me it was delicious? No, delicious was not the word for it. No words existed for such a liquor. It was rushing up and down my limbs in sparkling cascades, making me shiver. I moaned again, sharply, and wrapped both hands greedily around his forearm.

  Merrick exhaled and flexed his fingers. "That's it. You're almost there."

  Yes, I was filling up; I could feel it reaching its zenith. My entire being was abuzz with it, my soul spread open to accommodate every last drop of bliss he could spill. And then, just when I felt quite nourished, the thirst disappeared with a clean, delightful snap.

  I broke free of his wrist with a gasp, going stiff for a moment. The last few drops went down with a shower of satisfaction surpassing any I’d ever felt, blanketing my soul in a wonderful languor. I relaxed into the bedding, which felt impossibly plush and inviting beneath me, and slowly opened my eyes.

  Merrick looked just like his old self. The shadows and fine lines beneath his eyes had disappeared, and his skin had regained its silky smoothness. For a moment he looked at me with his usual solemn calm. But then a smile broke like dawn upon his face, and it spread so wide that his eyes crinkled.

  My heart exploded.

  "We have a strange night ahead." Merrick took my hand to hold it against his chest. "But I’ll be with you now, at last."

  A hundred tons had been lifted from my shoulders, but I could not yet speak. I was still overwhelmed by the sensations that had just roared through me, and still overjoyed by the warmth and purity of his smile. I laced my fingers through his, biting my lip.

  "Careful." He lightly touched the corner of my mouth. "Your teeth will be sharp by night’s end."

  "Good," I replied, and the word came out in a drunken slur.

  The smile returned, and when he gathered me into his arms I had no doubt that his burden had been lifted, too.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A strange night, indeed. Delightfully so. I lay in happy silence against his side, my hand still clasped against his chest, wanting nothing but to breathe in the night and listen to the beat of his heart. The windows were open, and now and again the warm breeze brushed over my cheek like silk. The street below us was lively, a steady hum of voices and footsteps, cart wheels and livery bells, horse hooves on the cobblestones. It all had a musical quality of a kind I'd never heard before, like a folk symphony of the night. Beneath my arm and cheek and thigh, Merrick's body was firm and solid. He smelled divine, and I realized with wonderful surprise that I could detect the fragrance of his blood, now that I had tasted it. I turned my nose into his chest and inhaled deeply.

  Merrick smoothed his hand up my spine and looked down at me. I turned my face up to meet his gaze, smiling when I remembered how beautiful he was. My thoughts were still too scattered for words. Merrick didn't seem to mind, and I was content to lie back down and drift a while in this strange, calm daze, tranquil as a pond in the forest.

  Was that all there was to it? Was I a vampire now? To think a year of torment could be swept aside so smoothly, so pleasantly. Why, I wouldn't even mind doing it again. The last part, at least. I looked up at Merrick once more, and once more, at the sight of his perfect face, I smiled. Merrick smiled back and shifted me in his arms so that he could press a kiss to my forehead. Pleasure bloomed there like a flower. Christ, it was Heaven.

  "You look very well," he murmured, stroking my back.

  "I thought it would be more like death." Even my own voice was novel to my ears—smooth and sure, much smokier than I remembered.

  "How brave you were, then."

  "Brave," I laughed softly, and stretched up to kiss him. A surprised moan escaped me as my lips and tongue tingled with delight, and I had to stop for a breath.

  Merrick turned so that we lay face to face. Lord, I was thrilled to be close to him again! In fact I was nearly in disbelief that we had finally attained this...well, whatever it was. So far, it was very nice.

  "Am I a vampire now?" I asked.

  "I suppose you are," Merrick replied, his smile giving way to a more pensive look. "But there are changes yet to come."

  "Merrick." My senses seemed somewhat warped—the coppery fractals of his eyes seemed to bend and shift and swirl as I watched. Yes, reality was doing very interesting things. But somehow I felt anchored to him, and surprisingly sure of my words. "Merrick, I’m so happy this is done. And I do hope you’ll forgive me for thrusting myself upon you like this."

  "Thrusting yourself upon me?" Merrick studied me, his brow furrowed.

  "Yes." I was using words correctly, wasn't I? I was fairly certain I was. In fact I felt much sharper of mind than usual, though perhaps that was some intoxicated delusion. "Defying your wishes and intruding upon your life—"

  "William, no." It was unlike Merrick to interrupt, but he was quick to dismiss my suggestion in his firmest tone. "You bear no responsibility for this. It was out of your hands the moment you set foot in my house."

  "But I know you were angry when I sided with Theo."

  "I’ve never been angry with you.” Merrick traced the edge of my jaw. “And that matter is behind us.” Seeing that I was not convinced, he murmured, “William, you’ve only brought me happiness. There’s nothing for me to forgive.”

  I didn’t want to be stubborn about it, but my doubts remained, and I wanted to be rid of them. "Why did you resist for so long?”

  “So long?” Merrick smiled ruefully. “I had intended to last another year. Perhaps two.”

  There was a horrid thought. "But why? That would hardly have been for my benefit."

  "No," he admitted. "Indeed. I told myself it was, but that was false. My own demons had a hold of me.”

  “What demons?”

  The solemn gaze had returned, his shimmering eyes gone distant for a moment. “Old habits,” he said at length. “And memories not easily laid to rest.” Meeting my eyes again, his expression cleared. “I’m the one who should ask for forgiveness. I made this an even more arduous ordeal for you. I’m sorry, William.”

  “All’s well that ends well,” I offered, appreciating the apology but wanting to shake him for arousing further questions. What habits, damn it? What memories? Still, his eyes were so full of contrition that I couldn’t help but want to calm them with a kiss—an effort that was cut short once again by my gasp of surprise. "What is this?” I asked, and licked my tingling lips. “Am I drunk on your blood?"

  "Something like that," Merrick said, recovering his smile. "And you've yet to adjust to the pleasure."

  "The pleasure?"

  "There's a great deal of pleasure in it." He traced my lower lip with his finger, sending a shiver through me. "An opening of the senses."

  "It's exquisite." God, I had missed that steady gaze, those quiet smiles, his gentle manner!

  "I'm pleased
you think so."

  "Are you pleased?" I asked, looking into his eyes again. "Has it done the job, so to speak?"

  "I am much refreshed.”

  “Thank God.” I could believe it by the sight of him, to my relief; and the more I looked at him, the more captivating he seemed to me. God help me, was I really in for a lifetime with this man, this beautiful, fascinating man, this extravagantly elegant man? It was almost impossible to believe.

  "Do not worry," Merrick said, perhaps noticing a dazed look on my face. "It will seem natural before long."

  "I am not worried," I said with something like surprise. "How could I worry now? This is better than anything I imagined." I held my hand up before my eyes, turning it slowly toward to admire the gleaming shells of my nails, the smooth lengths of my fingers, the intricate lines of my palm. “It’s astounding.”

  "There are many changes yet to come," Merrick warned gently. "You will see. I will show you," he corrected, and smoothed my hair with a fond look "Ah, William."

  The pleasure in his voice warmed me through and through. After all the dread and gloom that had led to this, I had intended to extract some heap of proof that he didn’t feel I’d done him wrong. But perhaps words were unnecessary if he was so obviously content to have me at his side. Questions lingered, yes. But they could wait. There was time, now, to let them wait. And I had a whole world of new diversions to help me bear the mysteries he still held close.

  As if to underscore the point, the breeze blew over my cheek again and drew my attention to the open doors.

  "Shall we step outside?" Merrick asked.

  "Yes, let’s." I sat up more quickly than I intended, and then, perplexed, I stretched my arms in front of me and turned them up and down. My muscles had never responded so neatly! My feet were so light I felt I was walking on air as I followed him to the balcony. I reached out to touch the edge of a curtain as I passed through the doors, transfixed by the texture beneath my fingertip.

  And then, by the world!

  Leaning against the bannister, I looked down in delight at the bustle of life below. We were in the heart of Boston, and it was as lively as New York—noisier, perhaps, or did it only seem that way to me now? No matter! The clatter was spectacular. Every noise pricked my ears so that I could hardly decide where to look. My eyes flitted from figure to figure, lantern to brick, moving over the shining glass windows of the coffee shop across the street and lingering on two men loitering by a hitching post nearby beneath its sign. One had caught sight of us above him and was staring absently; when I caught his gaze he looked back at his companion. Both were bedecked in felt hats and neat frock coats; the one facing us stood with a hip slightly cocked, idly swinging a satchel. When a sturdy woman with painted cheeks sauntered past them, he swatted his companion so they could both take a gander; I followed their eyes, admiring the bold red hue of her coat and the womanly way she moved. Moments later, across the street, a trio of young men came rushing out of a building and raced off up the block, their laughter echoing to the rooftops.

  At length I tilted my head, puzzled, for there was something strange about them all. The whole world, of course, seemed new to me, from the beautifully crisp edges of the buildings to the silky texture of the night air and the polished grain of the railing beneath my palms. But the people, particularly, were distinctly changed. I could not quite put my finger on exactly how...

  "I hope the noise is not too much for you."

  "Not at all." I smiled. "It's delightful." Tearing my eyes from the crowd below, I looked back into the room and around the stately veranda. "'Tis a fine house."

  "I'm pleased you like it."

  Forgetting we were in plain view, I reached for his hand. With evident amusement, he turned from the street and led me back inside, behind the screen of the curtains. "If you feel refreshed," he said, "shall we take a walk?"

  "A walk, yes!"

  Laughing under his breath, Merrick drew me into his arms for a long and tender kiss. I yielded entirely, allowing it to rake over my senses until I shivered and broke free with a gasp.

  There was more to that, I recalled now with a rumble of excitement. There was more to him beneath those elegant clothes. There was more to us. Impulsively I pulled his head down again.

  Merrick indulged me heartily, and then sighed against my lips. "You'll ruin my senses."

  "Very well."

  "No," Merrick smiled, unwinding my arms from his shoulders and pressing his lips to my hand. "Not tonight. I must keep my wits if I'm to be your guide."

  "Then I'm your apprentice once more," I said, grinning before I invoked the name I'd once called him by: "Master Merrick."

  His amber gaze was patiently amused. "If it pleases you."

  "It does indeed, sir."

  Merrick shook his head, but the smile remained on his lips. If I had ever seen him so happy, it was not since back in those peaceful days at the cottage under the guise of master and apprentice, when he was as pleased to teach me as I was to learn. Yes, let us return to that little game; only now we had more than herbs and medicines to discuss. Now the veil was lifted, and he had a whole new world to show me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I straightened from the washbasin with a soft gasp, sloughing the cool water from my face. It felt divine. Rubbing my face dry on a clean towel—ah, the smell of cotton!—I had the triumphant notion that at this very moment, no one on the face of the earth was merrier about the gills than I was.

  Just to look at myself in the mirror was proof. I was the picture of health and happiness, as though I'd never been burned by the sun or lost an hour of sleep in my life. My skin was smoother and firmer than ever before, and my warm coloring had returned with vigor. More striking still, however, were my eyes, which gave off a strangely jewel-like gleam when they caught the light of the candle. I leaned in closely to examine them, and at once I blinked in surprise. The brown of my eyes had taken on an understated sparkle, like a shallow stream shimmering in the sunlight. But more amazing were the fragments of cobalt blue that had appeared in wreaths around my pupils. How queer, I thought, but it certainly wasn't disagreeable.

  I pulled myself away from the mirror and donned a new shirt, merrily looking forward to stepping out on the streets of Boston. Forward, at last! My new life had begun! I had never felt such delicious anticipation. It was as though this dark and lovely house was the antechamber to a grand and glittering paradise, and we were adventurers about to behold its wonders for the first time. Yes, I was in a fine mood. What on earth could trouble me?

  Outfitted in a fresh suit of brown and black, I went to join Merrick downstairs. I took my time, admiring the elegant fixtures of the house on the way and vaguely remembering, in the stairwell, what a strange experience it had been to dream myself outside of my body. It certainly wouldn't be easy to rationalize.

  Merrick was standing at ease in the study, and I made an effort to corral the daft smile that threatened to spring up every time I looked at him. After all, at a certain point one had to practice decorum. It was, however, quite difficult to contain my pleasure at the sight of him, and to think that we were about to walk through the city together gave me an almost embarrassing degree of excitement. I wanted to punch the air for joy. Not once had Merrick and I been out in the world together—unless one counted the time I had assisted him in helping a village woman deliver a child upstate, but that was hardly a night on the town, and he had been hidden all the while in his old disguise.

  Everything was new! I was giddy as a damn butterfly.

  "You look very well, indeed," Merrick said as he looked me over once, lingering on my face. "And already, your eyes."

  "There's blue in them," I said, which sounded so childishly simple I almost laughed at myself, explaining, "I didn't know the color would change so distinctly."

  "There was always a little blue in your eyes." Merrick seemed somewhat surprised that I had not known this. "But it does stand out now. And so do you, I'm afraid." His eyes
moved over my suit again, quite pleasantly. "You will attract attention."

  "Surely you jest.” I gave him a look, for which of the two of us really had the elegant good looks, the otherworldly charm, the aura of wisdom and mystery? But I wasn't going to stand there in the study and debate which of us was more worthy of public interest, for heaven's sake. "Well," I said, changing direction. "Shall we, then?"

  We stepped out into a flurry of life, and for a moment I was dumbstruck on the portico as Merrick closed the door behind us. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder, and he leaned to speak beside my ear. "Don't be alarmed if things are not as you remember."

  "Nothing is as I remember."

  "Well, first you must learn this." He took a step down to stand beside me and look me in the eye. "We do well not to be noticed, remembered or mentioned. We do well not to be seen by the same person twice."

  "That seems rather difficult."

  "It must be learned and practiced." Merrick stepped down from the portico, inviting me to follow with his eyes, and then we were on the street. An impressive street, I thought, with neat stone paths on either side for walking—quite a city, Boston. I hadn’t expected to find much more of note than the prestige of its Revolutionary legacy, but I supposed it did compare to my New York.

  "How long has it been since you visited?" I asked as we headed up Marlborough Street.

  "Not since I arrived from Europe. Much has changed since then. The speed of progress in this age is tremendous."

  "Oh, we are on the cusp," I agreed heartily. "All this steam and steel. Though I hoped the printed word would rule the age for a few generations yet. But industry is always our king, I suppose."

  "Yes, but the rise in literacy will have its effects, I believe. The Millennium has yet to arrive, after all."

  I laughed, surprised. "Are you waiting for the Millennium too, then?"

  Merrick smiled. "No. But the world certainly is on the cusp. The last of the Old World is disappearing before our eyes. I don’t suppose there’s been such a chasm between the past and future since the fall of Rome."