The Vampire Shrink kk-1

by Lynda Hilburn

  Luna’s silver eyes studied me like a specimen in a lab. She leaned across the table, shifted from side to side for a better view, and I got the sense she’d have prodded me with a stick if she could.

  ‘So you’re the one. You’re the human who’s caused all the fuss.’ She twirled a strand of her long, straight, jet-black hair. ‘I expected more. You’re very pretty, and I see what he means about your eyes, but I still don’t understand the obsession.’ She turned to Devereux. ‘What is it about her?’

  The two of them stared silently at each other for a moment, and then Luna sighed. ‘Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be good. But I don’t have to like it.’

  She returned her gaze to me. ‘Have Devereux take you on a tour of the rest of the club. I’m sure you’ll find it illuminating.’ She stood, nodded at Devereux, and walked away, moving like a sleek panther on the prowl.

  Devereux said in my mind, ‘Luna does not understand my interest in humans. She does not share my desire to remain connected to the human community. She believes it is dangerous for us to risk exposure by allowing ourselves to be known. There is no reason for you to be jealous of her – she and I have never had an intimate relationship.’

  I frowned at him and sent the thought, ‘I’m not jealous.’

  His lips quirked. He thought, ‘As you wish.’

  ‘Hey, what’s going on?’ Tom asked. ‘Why is everyone just staring at each other? I think I missed the beginning of this movie. Are you going to tell me what you were doing in this guy’s lap?’

  I lifted my chin and locked eyes with him. ‘Even though I don’t owe you an explanation and you’re sounding ridiculously like a jealous boyfriend, I’ll tell you. Devereux and I have a special relationship. We are very attracted to each other. That’s all you need to know. I’ll sit where I wish, and I’ll kiss whomever I choose!’ I said, giving him a stern look.

  Although it was totally out of character for me to say all that out loud, it felt good to do it.

  ‘Okay.’ Tom scrunched down a little in his seat. ‘I hear you. I was just worried about you – you’ve been acting funny all night. Where’s Alan?’

  ‘He was called to the police station. There’s been another murder.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘A murder?’

  ‘Yes, it’s the case he’s working on. He told you about it in the car, remember?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ He frowned. ‘The vampire thing. So how are we supposed to get home?’

  You could always count on Tom to think about himself in the midst of whatever else was happening.

  ‘He said he’d come back for us as soon as he could.’

  Zoë reached over, pinched Tom’s chin between her fingers, and guided his face to hers. ‘Who knows, Tommy Boy, maybe you won’t want to go home. The night is young. Come on, let’s dance.’ She pulled him out of the booth towards the dance floor.

  ‘Don’t leave without me!’ Tom called back over his shoulder.

  ‘Your friend is an interesting person.’ Devereux chuckled. ‘Seeing you with me caused quite a storm of emotions inside him. He is concerned that he was wrong to let you go. He is reconsidering.’

  ‘Are you jealous?’ I blurted, without thinking. What was I, a fourteen-year-old?

  He snuggled in close and enveloped me in that wonderful spicy scent again. His eyes shimmered in the dim light and his voice flowed like music. ‘No. I am not jealous. I am certain of your feelings for me. What you and I have is beyond petty human emotions.’

  I briefly thought about insisting that I had no feelings for him, but I had no clue what was going on with me. Saying I didn’t have any feelings about him would be a lie, and how could I fool someone who appeared to have the ability, whether I liked – or believed – it or not, to know what I was thinking and feeling? Was that every woman’s dream or worst nightmare?

  Instead I asked, ‘If I stare at your eyes again, will I jump back into your lap?’

  He laughed, a full-throated sound that washed over me like warm honey. ‘No. You may look at me and remain in your seat.’

  I locked eyes with him and thought, ‘Kiss me.’

  ‘Your wish is my command.’ He pressed his soft, warm lips against mine and plunged me once again into that deep, blissful, timeless universe where only the two of us existed. The sounds in the room receded into the background. Everyone else in the club disappeared. He gently teased his tongue into my mouth, exploring me, and I returned the favour. I heard myself making little moaning sounds. He spoke in my mind, ‘I want you.’

  My body ached with desire for him. Maybe it was the buildup of sexual need during the last two years, or maybe it was my reaction to his incredible kiss, but I couldn’t think about anything except having mad, passionate sex with Devereux. And, at the same time, I knew that even having that thought was totally abnormal for me.

  We reluctantly pulled apart.

  ‘Come. Let me show you the rest of my club.’

  He stood and held his hand out to me, and I took it, feeling both anxious and excited.

  I slid out of the booth, rose up on my toes, and scanned the room. ‘I should tell Tom where I’m going. Not that he deserves it. It’d serve him right if I just left him here to fend for himself.’

  Devereux cocked his head. ‘The two of you had a disagreement?’

  ‘Sometimes, even though I know better, I let his arrogance get to me. In a sick way, he’s sort of like family. He’s one of the few people I ever trusted.’

  ‘Ah. Well, not to worry – Zoë will tell him you are with me.’

  ‘What do you mean, Zoë will tell him? How will Zoë know?’

  ‘I have spoken to her, in her mind, and she will convey the message. Come.’

  Is he saying they all have such outrageous psychic abilities?

  We walked down the set of stairs that led from our cosy booth into the central part of the club. Devereux held my hand and guided us through the crowd, which seemed to flow aside magically, creating an impossible path through the jammed-in bodies. We wound our way near the sarcophagus-shaped bar where the Leather Goddess was entertaining a group of slack-jawed males who were enthralled by her bartending talents. At the far end of the bar was an old-looking wooden door. Seated on a stool in front of the door was a large, muscular man with long grey hair, dressed in standard biker gear.

  When we approached, the biker guy jumped up off his stool, quickly pushed it aside and opened the door. Either this fellow had ingested too much caffeine, he was naturally nervous, or seeing Devereux triggered an anxiety attack, because he stared at Devereux with wide eyes. I could almost feel his adrenalin pumping. This guy was afraid.

  Devereux said, ‘Thank you, John,’ as we walked through the entryway and the door closed behind us. We were standing at the top of a long, wide staircase that descended down into the bowels of the club.

  ‘Why was that man so afraid of you?’

  He placed his hand on the small of my back. ‘Some humans seek out that which terrifies them so they can be afraid, which is the only way they know to feel alive – much like watching a movie that causes one to feel fear. John is addicted to vampires.’

  Listening to Devereux talk about vampires again definitely took the edge off the lust that had been there just moments ago. It was becoming clear that I’d have to accept his vampire fantasies or I wouldn’t be able to see him. And seeing him had become non-negotiable. I’d never felt so attached to anyone so quickly before. It was as if I not only needed to touch him, but I wanted to crawl into his soul. Very strange.

  I still hadn’t made sense out of all the things Alan had told me about Devereux being the leader of a vampire coven. In fact, the information had been replaying in my mind all day, eating away at my logical explanations. Alan was a psychologist, after all. Why would he lie to me? Was he caught up in the delusion as well?

  Truthfully, I simply didn’t want to think of Devereux as being mentally ill. Why couldn’t he just call himself a psychic, which seemed to be true? Why
bother with the absurd vampire role-playing?

  We walked down the stairs, which led to a long hallway with many doors along each side. I was reminded of Midnight’s comment about the lower level being a dungeon by the stone walls and the heavy doors, which looked as if they’d been created to keep screaming prisoners locked away. A cool dampness pervaded and I was almost surprised to see electric lights instead of torches lining the walls. But even though the place resembled a mediaeval castle, it really couldn’t be that old because the church itself had only existed for just over a hundred years. Yet there was an ancient feel to it.

  Some of the doors were open. As we passed I could see offices, meeting rooms, storage rooms, a lounge area with a movie-screen-size television and the velvet-curtain-covered entrance to the special gathering place Midnight had told me about during her first session.

  Devereux stopped in front of that room and pulled back the curtains. He nodded at me to check out the large group of people gathered inside. ‘I will introduce you to some of my companions later. Right now I selfishly wish to keep you to myself. You are a precious gift.’

  I wasn’t used to men paying such attention to me, so I didn’t know what to make of all the emotions that swept over me as he said those words. Something about them triggered an old need and I suddenly felt vulnerable. I gazed up at his beautiful face and he bent over and kissed my forehead tenderly, as if he knew what I was thinking.

  Well, apparently he does know what I’m thinking . . .

  To give myself a moment to regroup, I decided to ask about his abilities. ‘Can you really read the thoughts of everyone around you? Surely that would take the fun out of getting to know someone. Life could get very boring if you always knew everything in advance.’

  He closed the curtains, clasped my hand, and walked me further down the hallway to a set of ornate double doors. We paused there. ‘Life can indeed become boring, which is one reason why I mastered the ability to read thoughts selectively. As I have said, your thoughts are private unless I actively choose to listen to them. The constant mental chatter is also very distracting, and often there are other matters that require my attention. I have responsibility for several large businesses, for example.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ So even though he can use his abilities all the time, he expects me to believe he doesn’t.

  He used an old-fashioned key to open the door and ushered me into a huge room filled with lovely antiques, tapestries and artwork. The room was big enough to contain my entire townhouse with space to add a garage. Along the walls were beautiful candelabra holding lit candles which, combined with the prisms of light shining from an overhead chandelier, gave the room a soft illumination. The stone walls must have created natural soundproofing because I couldn’t hear the music from upstairs any more. The silence was rich.

  I scanned the room and noticed that all the modern office equipment one could need was there – computer, fax machine, printer – built into antique desks, armoires and tables interspersed among colourful couches and chairs. One half of the room was obviously used as a library, the walls lined with bookshelves holding thousands of books, some of which appeared to be very old.

  ‘Welcome to my private office.’ Devereux bowed. ‘Make yourself at home.’

  ‘Wow, this is amazing,’ I said, mostly to myself, as I wandered around the room, exploring. He had marvellous taste in furnishings and a remarkable sense of colour. Appreciating the care he’d put into creating his workspace made me remember my own sparsely appointed office and I vowed to give it more attention. If it was true that someone’s outer world reflected his inner world, then Devereux was indeed a complex and multifaceted person.

  When I turned back to him, it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen him in bright light since he’d come to my office to interrupt Bryce’s attack. As attractive as he appeared upstairs in the dim lighting of the club, now the combination of his shining blond hair and luminous blue-green eyes was almost overwhelming. He wore leather trousers that were a dark version of the colour of his eyes and a silk shirt of nearly the same shade. His boots had a full heel that made him even taller than he already was, which caused his lean, muscular body to look even more impressive.

  I moved over to him, stood with our bodies almost touching, and gazed up at him. ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Everything.’ He pulled me against him and his lips reclaimed mine.

  My body came alive with sensations and desires. The longer we kissed, the more I became convinced I wouldn’t survive the intensity of the feelings I was experiencing. My knees were weak and all my pleasure centres throbbed with need. I felt him hard and thick against the front of my blue jeans. He made sounds that were part moan, part growl.

  My heart was pounding so loud and fast it took me a minute to figure out that both of our hearts were beating together in a synchronised rhythm. I could almost hear the blood pumping through my veins.

  He suddenly jerked away from me and retreated a step, observing me from beneath his dark eyelashes. Throwing back his head, he ran his tongue over his top lip and gave a quick glimpse of fangs.

  I gasped in surprise, still lost in the web of desire we’d spun.

  He closed his eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh. As he did that, the long canines retracted back up into his gums.

  When he opened his eyes again, he studied me, his expression serious. ‘It has been many years since I have lost control of myself that way. You do indeed have great power over me. I hope I did not frighten you.’

  I knew that I’d just seen Devereux’s teeth do the same curious thing Bryce’s had when he forced me to put my finger on his tooth in my office, and I didn’t have any better explanation now than I had then, but I really didn’t care. I kept feeling that I should care, but I just didn’t. I’d either have to accept his strange role-playing or walk away.

  ‘You didn’t frighten me,’ I whispered.

  ‘Come. There is something I wish to show you.’

  He took my hand and drew me over to one of the book-cases, where he ran his fingers along the inside panel and pressed something that made a slight clicking sound. The large bookcase swung backwards, creating the entrance to an adjoining room. Devereux eased me through the opening in the wall of books into that other space, which was roughly half the size of the huge area we’d left, but still very large.

  To say this was the most extraordinary room I’d ever seen would be an understatement. The floor was white marble etched with Celtic, astrological, alchemical, and other magical symbols in patterns of various colours. False walls of rich wood had been constructed over the natural stone, and paintings, which appeared to be the work of the same artist, covered most of the available space. The air held a subtle fragrance, a combination of incense and herbs. On one side of the room was a large antique bed, with bright-coloured bedding. Not a coffin in sight. At least he wasn’t quite that delusional.

  I had expected the bed to be our destination, and I felt both nervous and aroused about the prospect, but to my surprise, Devereux guided me to the other end of the room, which was filled with shelves and tables full of strange bottles, odd substances and peculiar items. In addition, there were candles of every colour, shape, and size. Further along the wall was an artist’s easel, many canvases, and some paint supplies.

  Devereux walked over to the easel. ‘I want you to know me.’ He held out his hand.

  I joined him at the easel and let my eyes take in the lovely scene of a sunrise that was partially completed. He pointed to the rising sun in the picture. ‘Perhaps we all want what we cannot have?’

  ‘All these paintings are yours? You’re an artist?’

  ‘Painting is one of my passions.’

  I moved around the room, closely inspecting the paintings hanging on each wall. There was a mix of breathtaking outdoor scenes alongside portraits of people dressed in clothing from other centuries. As amazing as the landscape scenes were, the portraits were even more spectacular. It was as i
f he’d captured the essence of each person’s soul and added that mystical element to the final painting in some magical way.

  ‘They’re beautiful. You’re very talented.’

  He bowed. ‘I have had a very long time to practise.’

  One painting in particular drew me and I walked over to stand before it. The woman in the picture had the same hair and eyes as Devereux. She was dressed in a flowing white gown that made me think of angels, and around her neck she wore an exquisite pentagram on a silver chain.

  ‘That was my mother,’ he said, coming to stand beside me.

  I noted the ‘was’ in his statement. ‘I’m sorry. Did you lose her recently?’

  ‘No.’ He turned to me and smiled sadly. ‘She died very long ago, but I still miss her. She taught me everything I know. She was an amazing woman.’

  He walked back over to the shelves and tables of unusual objects.

  ‘What’s the stuff in the bottles? What do you do with all those candles?’ I asked, moving over to explore the strange objects.

  ‘Magic.’

  ‘Magic? You mean magic tricks, like a magician?’

  He pivoted to stand in front of me and met my eyes with his.

  ‘They are not tricks, but yes, “magician” is one of the names those such as I have been called throughout the ages. We are also referred to as magus, shaman or wizard. I have a particular fondness for the title wizard because it honours the Druid lineage from which I descend.’

  ‘What? You’re a Druid?’ I thought about the documentary I’d seen featuring robe-clad pagans celebrating the Summer Solstice at Stonehenge in England. Maybe that was where his role-playing originated. ‘Wow. I thought the Druids died out after the Romans. Your family must go back for ever.’ He thinks he’s a Druid. Can he tell the different between reality and fantasy?

  He winked. ‘Yes, I can tell the difference.’

  Annoyed, I crossed my arms over my chest. ‘Stop reading my thoughts. It’s rude. And you might hear things you won’t like.’

  ‘I apologise, and you are correct. I often hear thoughts I do not like. But in this case I could not resist. Your doubts about me are very strong. They scent the air. In response to your statement, my family is very old, and it is a commonly held mortal belief that the Druids disappeared after the Roman era. But many hidden tribes of Druids continue to thrive into the present, our existence unknown to human historians.’