Night Flight

by Margaret Carter

  "Talk," he said. "You bet we will." The fear he radiated ebbed as she stepped closer to him. He swept the flashlight over the ground while they strolled toward the cabin. "You bit that deer."

  "I was hungry."

  She sensed a renewed shock jolt through him, but he didn't show any signs of panic. "Either I'm crazy, or you aren't human. And I don't believe I'm crazy."

  So far, he was taking the revelation better than she'd feared. "You're not."

  "Let me get this straight. Wings—fangs—drinking blood—you're a vampire, right?"

  Gillian suppressed the impulse to laugh. "This is one time I can be thankful for all those dumb movies. They save a lot of explanation."

  "That explains the night-owl habits and the picky eating. If you sleep in a coffin, you forgot to bring it along."

  She gave her head an impatient shake. "I didn't say the movies were accurate. I'm not supernatural. I don't sleep in a coffin, and I reflect in mirrors. We're another species, not undead."

  "I saw you transform from a monster with fangs and wings to a human-looking female. That's not supernatural?"

  "It's a kind of psychic power. We can shift into an ancestral form stored in our DNA. We don't think of it as supernatural. It's part of our biological inheritance."

  "Oh, man, what zoologist wouldn't kill for a chance like this!" He added with a sidelong glance, "Not that I'd publish anything. Who'd believe me? And a headline in the National Enquirer would wreck my chances at tenure."

  "Then you don't want me to leave?" she said as they reached the cabin and climbed the stairs to the deck.

  "Hell, no! I want answers."

  "How did you find me, anyway? And why?"

  He shrugged. "I was worried, after you ran off that way. You weren't exactly hiding your tracks. Broken underbrush, not to mention this." She realized he was carrying her discarded T-shirt. "Uh…you might want to put it on."

  "Why? You've already seen me."

  He blushed and averted his eyes. "Humor me."

  So she pulled on the shirt and followed him into the living room.

  "Don't know about you, but I need a drink." His heartbeat spiked, and he threw her another dubious look. "Guess you already had yours." Detouring to the kitchen, he returned without the flashlight and with a gin and tonic on the rocks. "First question, just to get things clear. You don't do to people what you did to that doe, I hope?"

  "I feed on human prey. I have to, two or three times a week, to stay healthy. But it's a small amount, and I don't kill them. They never know it, in fact."

  They sat down at opposite ends of the couch. He gulped a swallow of his drink, obviously gathering courage. "Never know? Okay, next question. Have you done it to me?"

  She nodded, igniting a spark of anger in his aura. "Once. Last night."

  "I don't remember a thing. Well, except for a kiss. And a dream—a pretty hot dream." He scowled at her over the rim of his glass. "You caused it, right? You hypnotized me."

  "That's what we do." Would he change his mind and throw her out now?

  "Just routine, huh? So I'm just a snack?"

  "No, Paul! We're friends."

  She edged toward him, and he recoiled. "That's what I thought…until now. Friends don't do what amounts to rape."

  "You're angry."

  "Damn straight!"

  "But you did enjoy the—dream. And you still desire me."

  His face flushed a deeper red. "Now what, you're reading my mind?"

  "Just your emotions."

  Putting the glass down, he bowed his head in his hands. "Good God, this is worse than I thought."

  "I don't understand what's so horrible. Now that you know the truth, I won't mesmerize you again without your permission."

  "So you expect me to just let bygones be bygones? Oh, and have you pick up every feeling that pops into my head." The sarcastic edge in his voice stung her like a razor cut.

  "What did you expect me to do?" she snapped. "Explain what I am and what I wanted? As if you would've believed me."

  "You could have trusted me!" he yelled.

  "Oh, you wouldn't have called the police or the men in white coats when I asked for a little sip of blood? Or thrown me out into the street, at the very least?"

  He sighed. "You have a point. Truth is, I don't know what I would have done. And it's too late to find out now." The crackle of static in his aura quieted. "Trust me now. Why did you really ask me to bring you here? What are you hiding from?"

  "A man actually is stalking me. But it's a little more complicated than I implied."

  "I'd have thought you could protect yourself against any ordinary man."

  "This isn't an ordinary man. It's one of us. As I said, it's a complicated story."

  "We've got plenty of time, right? Tell."

  "First off, I'm part human. You see, there aren't many of us, fewer than ten thousand worldwide, and our fertility rate has declined over the past couple of centuries."

  "Are you immortal, like in the movies?"

  "Movies again! Not exactly like that, but we do live a very long time and never die of old age."

  "Interesting." He no longer emitted either fear or anger. "Then it would make sense for your species to produce very few offspring."

  "Yes, that's how it works. Our females go into estrus only once every few years, and they don't ovulate every time. Males aren't fertile at all, except when stimulated by a female in estrus."

  "That fits. Typical K-selected species."

  "Say what?"

  "Extended lifespan, only one or two infants per conception, long gestation, heavy energy investment in the young." The technical discussion seemed to calm him down.

  "Uh—right. The trouble is, more often than not, heat periods are barren. The elders say it's been getting worse recently."

  "So your population's declining—even if you don't die naturally, some of you must get killed."

  Gillian reflected that Paul's doctorate in zoology saved a lot of time in explanations. "Right. Our Prime Elder got the idea for a breeding project, revitalizing our gene pool with human DNA. That's where I come in, being one-fourth human. He thinks I probably have hybrid vigor and might even be fertile at my first heat, which normally never happens. So he picked a mate for me."

  "One that you didn't want."

  She caught herself baring her teeth at the memory of Luciano's arrogance. "Not only is it our traditional right to choose our own mates, I can't stand this person. He doesn't like me, either. He's just trying to score points with the Prime Elder. I needed a refuge he wouldn't know about. Someplace to hide until I get through estrus."

  "After that it won't matter, because you won't be producing the pheromones anymore. Is that how it works?"

  Relieved at not having to spell out the details, she nodded.

  "Okay, I admit I'd have thought you were putting me on or out of your mind, if you'd tried to tell me all this before. But now that I know, of course I want to help." Once again the blood suffused his skin, and his aura dimmed with embarrassment. "One thing, though…female animals in heat usually, uh…suffer."

  "I had a theory that since I'm part human, it wouldn't be as severe. I thought if I stayed away from male vampires, I might be able to get through it on my own."

  "You thought?"

  "Well, it hasn't worked out quite the way I hoped. And would you please stop blushing like that?"

  He picked up his half-empty glass and took a long swig. "It's not like I can control it. Anyway, why do you care?" His tone roughened with a blend of defiance and desire.

  "The dilated capillaries and the rise in your skin temperature…watching that makes me thirsty, if you must know."

  "Oh. Should I worry?"

  "My self-control isn't totally shot!"

  "Glad to hear it. Anyway, if you didn't rip out my throat before, when I was totally off guard, you sure won't do it now that I know about you." His eyes shifted away from hers and back again.

  "Then what'
s wrong?" she said.

  "I want to ask you something, and I'm not sure if it violates some vampire etiquette rule. I'd like to watch you change. I didn't get a good look out there in the woods."

  Having expected something worse, she said, "Sure, I can do that, if you promise not to freak out."

  "Freak out? Perish the thought. Cool, analytical man of science, that's me."

  She stood up and peeled off her shirt.

  Paul's eyes widened. "Do you have to do that?"

  "I'm too young to include clothes in the change. What difference does it make, now that you've already seen me half-naked?"

  "Nudity has emotional significance for human males. You must have figured that out by now."

  She nudged her sandals off but didn't remove her jeans, in consideration for his obvious uneasiness. "You're not just any man, though. And what's the big deal about showing my breasts? I've seen those pictures in Playboy, and I don't come close to the American erotic ideal."

  "Not all men have mammary obsessions, not even American men." He scanned her body, then hastily looked away. "And I like your breasts." The dilation of his pupils and the flare of red in his aura confirmed that claim.

  With a sigh of pleasure, she unleashed the change. Again the silken fur, fox-red like her hair, spread over her body like flame over dry grass. Cream-colored, mothlike wings unfurled. She felt the tingling eruption of fangs and claws. The sensations eased a little of her tension.

  Stunned, Paul gaped at her. After a brief silence, he stood up. "You can't fly, can you?" His hand reached for hers but dropped halfway. "You're too heavy for those wings to lift."

  "We levitate. The wings provide balance and steering."

  "Levitate." He shook his head. "Another psychic power, like hypnosis and shapeshifting? Sure looks supernatural to me."

  Gillian reined her irritation. With so much to take in at once, he had an excuse for thickheadedness. "Our powers evolved like any other animal's special abilities."

  Gathering his nerve with obvious effort, he circled around her. "May I touch?"

  "Go ahead." Exactly what she wanted but knew she ought to discourage. "Take it easy, though. We're sensitive in this unstable condition."

  When his fingers skimmed her wings, the membrane quivered, and she drew in a hissing breath.

  "Sorry…does that hurt?"

  "Not hurt," she breathed.

  His hands swept over the curves of the wings. He stroked down her spine between them. The heat of his palm made her back arch. "Like velvet," he murmured. He repeated the caress. She responded with an involuntary growl-purr.

  "Kitten." He clasped one of her hands and fingered the claws. "Tiger kitten." His other hand reached toward her cheek.

  She grabbed his forearm.

  He winced, though not in fear. "Good Lord, you're strong."

  "I didn't mean to hurt you." She unclenched her grip. "You shouldn't touch my—teeth." Her jaws already ached. She couldn't rely on her self-control if he teased her there. His tangy scent and the pounding of his heart made her dizzy. The waistband of her jeans constricted her breath. She normally transformed completely nude.

  "I thought I could handle this. Maybe not." She slithered away from him and melted into fully human shape. Her clothes still felt tight enough to make her stomach cramp. She fumbled at the snap and zipper, wiggled out of the jeans, and kicked them away.

  Paul's breathing quickened when she stood before him in nothing but bikini pants. "What do you think you're doing?" Though his voice held an edge of anger, the emotion he radiated felt more like desire.

  "I couldn't stand it anymore—my skin's crawling…"

  "Look, you can't just strip naked in front of a man. Not even a close friend." She felt him tremble with the effort of staying motionless. "It's not fair."

  "Then I'll get out of here." She didn't turn to leave the room, though.

  "Don't do that. I mean…" He raked his fingers through his hair. "You're driving me crazy. Do I have to say straight out how much I want you? How beautiful you are?

  Would he lust for her, though, if she were only human? Gillian knew perfectly well that her figure didn't match the Barbie doll ideal. "That's an illusion," she said. "It's the vampire allure you're responding to, not the way I look."

  "Hold it—you aren't hypnotizing me right now, are you?"

  She emphatically shook her head. "I won't hypnotize you or drink from you again without your permission. Word of honor." Luckily, it didn't seem to occur to Paul that she might influence him to accept her word, and he would never realize it. She didn't want to complicate the discussion by reminding him of that possibility. "It's a kind of magnetism we have. Involuntary, unless we suppress it deliberately, and it gets stronger the more excited we are."

  "You're saying I can't help being attracted to you. Any man would."

  She nodded. "Sexual polarity makes it more intense, but it can work on same-sex targets if we want it to."

  "I don't believe it's just that." Now he did allow himself to inch closer to her, as if he expected her to bolt like a deer. "I like you for yourself, your mind, your personality."

  "I'm glad," she whispered. If she let herself think too much about his claim, she would doubt it all over again. In her overwrought condition, she couldn't be sure, herself, how much she was lulling him with her innate power.

  "Because I need a favor from you."

  The musky aroma of his arousal made a fire smolder in the pit of her stomach. The antlike prickle under her skin was back, stronger than before.

  Chapter Ten

  "What kind of favor?" The tremor in his voice underscored the queasy excitement he radiated. A touch of anxiety made his pulse race, yet her heat vision showed blood pooling in his loins.

  She snaked her arms around his waist and undulated against him. "I'm in estrus. I recognize the symptoms, from the descriptions I've heard. And I won't be able to ride it out alone, after all. I tried, and it didn't work. Something about needing a live male body in direct contact with mine, I guess.

  He hugged her close and massaged her shoulder blades. "You mean you want me to—Good grief, do you know what position you're putting me in?"

  "What's wrong?" She sensed waves of lust emanating from him. Why did he hesitate? "You said you wanted me."

  "If you can read emotions, you know I do. Hell, you should be able to tell without that." His arms tightened around her, and he nuzzled her neck. "That's just the point. This is the stereotype of every man's ultimate fantasy, a woman in heat who can't get enough of him. I'd be taking advantage of your…predicament."

  Ephemerals! Their logic completely eluded her. "Taking advantage of me? Don't be ridiculous, it's the opposite. I'm taking advantage of you. I need a male, and you're the only one around." She drew a deep breath. "And the only one I want."

  He gazed at her, their eyes meeting almost level. "Really?"

  "Yes. I certainly don't want any of the eligible males of my own species. If I have to choose anyone, it's you."

  "All right." His voice shook. To her ears, the thunder of his heartbeat almost drowned out the words. "If you're sure, I'm not about to pass up the opportunity."

  "Wonderful!" She decided not to mention the literal truth of the "can't get enough" clause. With luck, her human heritage meant that her needs wouldn't rage beyond the limits he could handle. She slipped out of his arms and stripped off her panties. "Take off your clothes."

  "Whoa—" He backed up a pace. "We don't usually rush into things so abruptly."

  "Oh. I guess you have plenty of experience with sexual relations." Her eagerness shaded into trepidation as she speculated that her ignorance of mating etiquette might offend or bore him.

  He shrugged, his aura wavering with a hint of discomfort. "I'm no Don Juan. I've been celibate since my last relationship ended six years ago. So you don't have to worry about catching anything."

  That point hadn't even occurred to her. "I'm immune to infectious diseases. And since I'v
e never had intercourse, I can't be a carrier."

  "Never? Not even with the men you've fed on?" His aura dimmed, then flared a lurid red.

  What did that momentary flash of darker emotion mean? Jealousy? "It's not necessary. I get my satisfaction from them without allowing that intimacy. This is different."

  At the word "different," she sensed a tinge of doubt in him, but he didn't pursue the point. "I almost forgot, what about pregnancy?"

  "I don't expect to ovulate. That's just a far-fetched idea of my mentor's. If I do, I have enough control over my body to prevent a fertilized egg from implanting."

  "That's all right, then. If you aren't worried about—"

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." He exhaled a deep breath. "No problem."

  "So what are you waiting for? Get undressed." She reached for the snap on his shorts.

  Paul grabbed her wrist. "Hold it. I'm used to a little more in the way of preliminaries." To her dismay, the level of his arousal dropped slightly, tainted by confused hesitance.

  "Why? You've acknowledged that you desire me, and I need a male. The seduction process is unnecessary."

  "Another male fantasy, a woman who's as ready as a man. You make it sound so, well, mundane."

  Gillian shrugged. "It's a biological process, after all." Though she enjoyed his ardor, at the same time it made her prickle with uneasiness. Personal involvement with a human donor meant a risk she'd always been taught to avoid.

  "At least let's go into the bedroom. More comfortable."

  "Very well." She laced her fingers through his. "Yours or the guest room?"

  "Uh…mine, I guess." His thumb traced a circle on her palm. The cilia bristled, making her shiver with pleasure. "Hey, little hairs. Interesting."

  "And sensitive. Come on." She led him into the bedroom and lay down on his unmade bed, still holding his hand.

  Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he stroked down the front of her chest, between her breasts. "Interesting hair growth pattern."