by Jenna Barwin
He pursed his lips and then released them. “From what you told Tig, Leopold knew about the attack on Yacov before you arrived on the Hill. When I mentioned it to him last night, he didn’t say anything.”
At least the Lux weren’t making him anxious again. “I could ask Leopold how he found out.”
“If you can do so without arousing his suspicions, Tig may find the answer helpful.”
“Consider it done,” she said. He still clutched his crucifix. “Was there something else?”
“I’ve been thinking about why you’re on the Hill. What reason did Leopold give for wanting his project in Sierra Escondida?”
Her stomach twisted. Did he still think Leopold was behind the shootings? “He wanted it near a treaty community.”
“But he specifically wanted it here.”
“He was quite insistent. I didn’t have any choice in the matter, not if I wanted his help.”
“What will your lab produce?”
“Ah, well,” she stammered. Leopold didn’t want anyone knowing—yet. Should she tell Henry the truth? So far, being honest with him had worked out all right. She ran her finger around the crystal of her watch, its presence calming her. “I’ve been working on a new cloning technique. It has a number of uses. Take leather, for example.”
“Leather?”
“I can grow cowhide from bovine stem cells, without cloning the full animal.” She swept her fingers along the side of the leather chair. “Once it’s processed, it looks and feels just like this.”
“That could be a lucrative project. It still doesn’t explain why your project must be in Sierra Escondida.”
She took a deep breath. “Using the same techniques to create clones, I’ve been trying to produce human blood in quantity in a laboratory environment.”
His eyes were suddenly bright with interest. “This is artificial blood?”
“No, the real thing. Artificial blood is currently designed as a means of transporting oxygen, as a blood expander. It doesn’t have all the component parts of real blood, which is why vampires aren’t using it as a source of nutrition. I’m pursuing a different route.”
“Why are you doing this research?”
“Isn’t it obvious? So we can feed the treaty communities.”
He fell silent for a moment, and his dark eyes slowly narrowed. “So the communities would be dependent upon you and your people?”
“Leopold told me banked blood is rather stale and of limited supply. The blood I produce from clones would be fresh. It would make the treaty communities more independent of blood banks, or…other sources of blood.”
“In other words, not be tempted to hunt mortals?” he asked harshly.
Shit. He sounded offended. “There would be no need to hunt mortals, if blood from clones was available.”
“Even without your blood, we on the Hill do not hunt, so you need not be concerned.” He folded his arms and looked away from her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I understand the treaty allows live feeding—”
“But not hunting. There is a difference.”
“Look, I had no way of knowing whether some vampires still hunt mortals for blood.”
“If they do, they don’t stay here for long. Hunting within a hundred miles of the Hill is forbidden.” He seemed more than a little miffed with her.
Was he truly angry, or was he afraid of something? But what? She increased her aura, envisioning it as a cloud surrounding him. She didn’t want him to be afraid of her or her project. “Henry, I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with me.”
He crossed and uncrossed his legs. “We have separated our nutritional needs from the hunt. Besides, vampires who are addicted to hunting their victims aren’t allowed to stay in the treaty communities. They are tracked down and destroyed.”
“But Leopold said there’s a difference between feeding and hunting. All treaty communities permit feeding, during, ah…sex,” she said, warmth flooding her cheeks.
“We don’t need our mates to feed us.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. The conversation had taken a wrong turn when he asked whether the community would be dependent upon her people. Was that what he was afraid of? She opened her eyes and looked into his. “Henry, the Hill would still have access to banked blood. You wouldn’t be dependent on what I produced in the lab.”
He remained silent, running both hands across his head, smoothing back stray hairs. He looked like he was fighting some internal struggle. She kept her aura directed toward him.
“The blood you’re making…” he said. “You’re sure it would be the same as human blood?”
“Of course. It’s from a modified human body.”
The look on his face moved from confusion to shock. “You did not say ‘cloned blood.’”
Ripping the bandage off slowly wasn’t going to help. She drained her wineglass first. “I’ve created a brainless clone of a human body,” she said, smiling proudly at her success.
From the look on his face, he didn’t agree with her pride. “Brainless?”
“Well, it has to have certain parts of the brain, those controlling lungs, heart, organs like that. It can’t think or feel pain; I left those parts out,” she said quickly, hoping his face would lose its stony look. She kept her aura flowing toward him. “The clone is like a zombie. It’s not human, and it’s not truly alive. It’s an organic machine that produces human blood.”
“Why not just…clone the blood?” he asked, seeming to struggle to find the words.
“Too many component parts—each would have to be synthesized. It would be like making one of your blended wines, but using twenty or more varieties of grapes. To get the right mix would be almost impossible, even for us.”
“You have created this clone…this zombie,” he said, pausing to rub his eyes with the fingers of one hand, “to feed vampires?”
“That’s my goal. I might even supply hospitals with blood. I thought your people would accept the idea. Leopold applauded the concept.”
“The Church…would not approve.”
Oh no. Would he oppose her project on religious grounds? Her heart went into overdrive as panic swept through her. A burst of her aura shot toward Henry, and his eyes turned solid black.
Oops, too much. He gripped the carved armrests of his chair, his biceps bulging with the effort, and he whipped his head to the side like he was trying to get rid of an annoying gnat. Part of his ponytail had come undone. The tousled black strands framed his face, making him look wild and even more dangerous.
She wanted to untie the string holding back the rest of his hair and see it fall to his shoulders, and then trace his smooth jaw line with her fingers, brush his lips with hers, undo his belt buckle….
Oh damn. The things we charm, charm us. She needed to ease up before her aura backfired on them both.
* * *
Why couldn’t he concentrate on her words? Something about her distracted him, ebbing and returning, a blissful feeling, one that jacked up his libido. He wanted to wallow in the scent of her, run his hands across her body….
He slouched back in his chair, his hands in his lap, trying to hide his arousal.
He couldn’t take his gaze off her lips. They were full, but not too full. He tried focusing on her entire face—an average nose, nice cheekbones, and clear green eyes—but he kept returning to her beautiful, full lips. Why did they suddenly pull him in, compelling him to press his to hers?
This isn’t her real appearance—it’s only an illusion. So why am I drawn to her? No, I need to remember…what? What is it I need to remember?
He touched the matrix card in his pocket and removed it. He ran his finger over the words he’d written last night.
That must be it.
He forced himself to sit up straight. “Leopold told me about your aura, your ability to charm.”
“I—”
“Don’t. If we are to be honest with each other, you cannot use your aura to infl
uence me.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Her hand rose to her lips, hiding them. “I-I was afraid you’d have second thoughts about keeping my secret.”
He still felt her pull. “Stop doing it.”
“I am—I mean—” She dropped her hand to her lap. “I did stop. I’m not doing anything.”
He sprang from his chair, crossing the distance to her in a flash to kneel in front of her, pausing inches from her face. “I said stop it.”
Did he see yearning in her eyes? Her scent was a tempting mix of fear and arousal. He leaned closer until his lips briefly brushed hers. The soft, smooth touch ignited a stronger fire in him. Sliding his hands around her, he lifted her up, until they stood facing each other.
He wanted to kiss her. Badly. If it wasn’t her ability to charm, then something else about her drew him in. He brushed his lips against her cheek, until they were by her ear. She smelled just like his cologne—the body wash he had left for her to use. Why did the scent of his cologne on her, mingled with the fragrance of her blood, make her even more alluring? I want…
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
She tensed. “No—I mean, yes—I mean, I’d like to try.”
He held her just a moment longer until her body relaxed in his arms, her arms sliding around him, pressing them closer together. He pulled back enough to see her face turn up to meet his lips and her scent deepen to the salty musk he found so captivating. He brought her close until her warm lips were on his, her breasts lightly brushing against his chest—just this careful and gentle taste of her threatened to drive him mad.
When he opened his lips, she did the same, his desire rising in anticipation, then the touch of her silky tongue on his—when it came, he wanted more. So much more.
Her pulse beat faster the longer they kissed, the sound of it urging him to kiss her more deeply. It took all his willpower not to ravish her mouth, to only caress her tongue with restrained need. He pressed against her shoulders, bringing her closer. He wanted to slip his hands lower and cup her shapely bottom, then crush her hips to his and unzip her sexy dress and take her, right here and right now.
But he couldn’t move too fast. There was too much he didn’t know about her. He eased back from the kiss and brought his hand to her face to stroke her soft cheek.
“So beautiful.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I have to ask. Why are you really here?”
“I-I told you,” she stammered.
With their foreheads pressed against each other, his lips were still inches from hers. “I don’t mean the clones,” he whispered. “Why did your people want you to spy on us?”
“Study, not spy,” she said breathlessly. “The Protectors want more information about your people, how your communities are organized. Our whole purpose is to protect mortals…”
She rolled her lips together and bit them. Only he should be allowed to bite those lips. He pulled her closer, until he spoke softly by her ear again.
“And you’re here to ensure we aren’t a threat,” he said, trying to convince himself. “What would they do if they decided we were?”
“But you aren’t.”
“What would they do?” he asked, his voice still a whisper by her ear. He had to know the truth, what kind of danger her people posed to his community.
“I don’t know.” She pushed away from him, but he didn’t let her go. “They have a strong ethic against interfering, so when they do, it’s the least amount necessary to tip the scales in the right direction.”
“Tip the scales?”
“During World War II, they stopped a German scientist from creating the atom bomb by substituting a page in his notes—it kept him going in the wrong direction.”
“I see.”
She pushed at his chest, and this time he released her. She started pacing, circling away from him until the chair was between them. “They aren’t a threat to your existence. I wouldn’t be here if they were.”
She chewed on her lower lip for a second before releasing it. The action made him want to kiss those lips again.
“You,” she said, pointing at him. “You should be more interested in finding out why someone was trying to kill you. That threat is real—I mean, I took the bullet meant for you. I can guarantee it was real.”
“I feel confident Tig will figure out who is behind the attacks. You, she knows nothing about.” He crossed his arms. He’d already made his decision—now it was time to tell her. “As long as I keep your secret, it’s up to me to ensure you aren’t a threat to my community. You will remain here with me until I decide what to do.”
Chapter 27
“What?” She tried not to screech her answer, but she hadn’t expected this, not after how far they’d come. Not to mention the community wouldn’t allow it, not when she wasn’t his mate. “I can’t stay here. Gaea’s already texted me multiple times. She wants to know when you’ll drive me to her place. Tig told her I’m out of bed and walking around.”
He stood there, looking dark and sexy and barely in control. More strands of his black hair had come loose when they kissed and now hung to his shoulders. She wanted to slide her hands into his hair, wrap her hands around the silky strands, and bring him close to her again. His eyes had turned solid black before their kiss. They were now fading back to normal. She mourned the loss a little. Another kiss wouldn’t be out of the question….
No, I have to resist. Her desire for him had to be the result of too much aura. These feelings can’t be real…but that kiss…
He stepped toward her, but before he reached her, his expression changed, the light of comprehension widening his eyes. “If you’re not here to spy on us, then you do want us dependent on your blood source. Why? To control us?”
What should she tell him? Technically, she was studying the vampire communities; her spy mission focused on a smaller group—those behind the vampire dominance movement.
She couldn’t tell him about the conspiracy, the threat to subjugate humans. What if he was involved? No, that’s not possible. The Covenant, the treaty—he’d created a cloistered world to keep vampires from harming mortals. He didn’t want vampires to turn mortals into slaves. Think, damn it! My instincts can’t be this wrong. Hell, he went to war to protect mortals. Wait, that’s it—
“Stop making up lies to tell me.” He gripped her arm. “I want the truth.”
“Ah, the Lux, well, we’re a little concerned, if something happened to the treaty. I mean, having an alternative blood source might hold off the Malthusian crisis your war was fought over.”
His eyes narrowed, but his grip relaxed. “With an increased blood supply, aren’t they afraid we’d lift our restrictions on turning mortals?”
“Clone blood would be expensive to produce, but more potent than blood-bank leftovers. Superior in taste, too—we hope—enough to motivate some vampires to augment their diet with it rather than—and please don’t take this the wrong way—rather than hunting. We would tightly regulate the supply, providing some blood, but not enough to justify lifting the ban.”
“And if the ban is lifted?”
“We should be able to upscale production to protect mortals. But that’s the fallback plan.”
“I see,” he said, scrunching his eyebrows together. “And the blood comes from human clones?”
“Not real clones—I mean, they aren’t really human.” He had raised a religious objection before their too-short kiss. She couldn’t let it fester. “Do you believe cloning is wrong?”
“I believe it’s a complex ethical question.” He shrugged. “Stem-cell cloning shows great potential for healing many mortal illnesses. I don’t believe a fertilized egg is somehow sacred. It wasn’t the belief when I was mortal.”
Okay, not the answer she expected. “What do you believe now?” she asked, crossing her fingers behind her back. She had held back on using her charm again. She didn’t want to push them into something she wasn’t ready for.
“Agai
n, I find it a complex ethical question.” He paused, seeming to consider the matter. “But based on your description, I don’t think it unethical per se.”
“In that case,” she said, her voice rising with hope, “I could bring some back for you to sample.”
“I would like that, so I may confirm it is superior to bagged blood.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.” She took a deep breath and let it out. Maybe everything would all work out okay.
Then Henry looked like a completely different idea had hit him. He smiled, shaking his head.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
He pointed at her, and then himself. “You and I. Dr. Frankenstein meets Dracula.”
“Now wait a minute. I wouldn’t call my clones Frankenstein’s monster—I didn’t build them from parts of dead people.”
“But you admit there is a similarity.”
“Then shouldn’t it be Dr. Frankenstein feeds Dracula?”
“Touché.”
“But if I don’t start finding investors here, I’m not feeding anyone.” Her cell phone buzzed. She took it out of her pocket—another text from Gaea. “Look, you have to drive me back to Gaea’s house or she’s going to come over here.”
“Hmm. We don’t want another visit like last night.” He gave a thoughtful frown. “Fine, I will return you to Gaea’s. But you must promise you won’t leave her house without speaking with me first.”
“I have a feeling I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” She held up her bandaged arm. “I still have to pretend I’m recovering from this.”
His face took on a determined look. “Then I will count on Gaea to keep a watchful eye on you.”
* * *
Henry took Cerissa to Gaea’s, helping her up to her room and into bed. He resisted the urge to kiss her goodbye. Much as he wanted to, with Gaea hovering over them, it was a very bad idea.
On his way out, Blanche pulled him aside into a sitting room. He didn’t take the chair she offered him.
“Would you like some company tonight?” Blanche asked, cocking her head a little coyly and licking her lips.
“I’m sorry. I have business to attend to.”