Cliff's Descent

by Dianne Duvall

  “Yes, they are.” Bastien swept some dirt and grass from his coat tails. “You seem awfully chipper tonight.” Had his voice not been so dry, Cliff might’ve worried he suspected something.

  Instead he laughed. “I guess I am. Must be the fresh air.”

  His friend grunted. “Anything alarming happen I should know about before we head back? You leave any bloodbaths the network might grumble over having to clean up?”

  Cliff grinned. “Nope. I was on my best behavior.”

  Bastien snorted. “Sure you were.” Together they started strolling in the direction of network headquarters, having left Melanie’s car behind tonight. “How are the voices?”

  Cliff couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from his face. “They’re gone.”

  Eyebrows rising, Bastien halted. “Completely?”

  “Completely. I haven’t felt this good… this normal… in a long time.”

  The British immortal’s lips stretched in a smile. “Excellent.” He clapped Cliff on the back. “I’m glad hunting is helping. You want to go out again tomorrow night?”

  “Hell yes.”

  He laughed. “I bet you do. How would you feel about having more time to yourself while we’re out and about?”

  “Really?” Excitement filled him at the prospect of having more than two hours with Emma. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course. I know you’ve missed having the freedom to come and go at will. And clearly having at least some of that restored is helping.”

  “Won’t Reordon object?”

  He shrugged. “Can’t object to something he doesn’t know about.”

  “What about Seth?”

  Bastien shook his head. “Seth has so much on his plate right now I doubt he’d even notice. Just don’t do anything that would make Reordon complain to him.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “No thanks necessary. I wasn’t just thinking about you.” His lips quirked. “If you’re off doing your own thing, I might be able to coax Melanie into indulging in some illicit midnight rendezvous.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Cliff grinned. “Maybe so.”

  “Aside from the voices being gone, how do you feel? Want to race home?”

  He let his shoulders sag and injected his voice with fatigue. “I don’t know. Honestly, I’m feeling a little—” Cliff took off like a rocket toward network headquarters. “Tired!” he called and laughed when Bastien swore far behind him, then belatedly tried to catch up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emma woke with a smile the next day. She’d never been much of a morning person. But after Cliff had left, she’d showered, tumbled into bed, and slept like the dead.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so rested. Or so happy.

  After tugging on a pair of paint-splattered sweatpants, a stained T-shirt, and some old sneakers held together with duct tape, she ate a quick breakfast, then headed into the garage. The dusty economy car took up almost half of it. A washer and dryer with cabinets above them occupied the space in front of it. Beyond that lay a conglomeration of materials and tools that might seem chaotic upon first inspection but were actually organized into categories.

  Emma hit a button just outside the door to the house. Sunlight flowed in as the garage door rolled up with nary a squeak or rumble. Dust motes danced on a light breeze, sparkling like fairy dust.

  Grabbing a pair of sturdy work gloves, she tugged them on as she made a mental list of what she’d need today. She’d have to lay down a drop cloth of some sort.

  It didn’t take long to retrieve one and spread it across the shrubs and ground out front.

  Crossing to the aluminum ladder, she hoisted it up and carried it outside. It was heavy. Much more so than the one she remembered her dad using around the house when she was a little girl.

  She smiled, thinking of her dad, who lived with her mom in Michigan. He’d been so proud of her when she told him she was buying the house. He’d ordered this ladder online and had it delivered the following week. More tools he deemed essential had followed in a fairly continuous stream until she’d laughingly told him that if he kept sending them, she’d have to buy another house just to store them all.

  A few more trips and she was up on the ladder, safety glasses and mask in place, rocking out to one of her dad’s favorite groups—Sly and the Family Stone—as she scraped flakes of paint off the house’s siding. Memories of the time she and Cliff had spent together kept a smile on her face as she worked. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

  The knowledge that she could see him again—here, away from prying eyes—left her as giddy as a schoolgirl.

  Emma had just moved the ladder over and climbed to the top to begin scraping another section when the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires infiltrated the music. Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder.

  A Chevy Volt in need of a wash crept its way up her driveway.

  Unease rose. She wasn’t expecting company and didn’t know anyone who drove a car like that.

  Descending the ladder, she removed her safety glasses, mask, and gloves, tossed them down, and turned off the music. A surreptitious pat of her pants pocket confirmed her cell phone was still there. Retrieving the narrower metal scraper with the sharper edge, she pretended to scrape something off one of the ladder rungs, then kept it in her hand as the car slowed to a stop.

  The vehicle only had one occupant as far as Emma could see.

  Thrusting the driver’s door open, a petite brunette emerged. She looked to be about thirty years old and was four or five inches shorter than Emma. Blue jeans and a Tar Heels T-shirt accentuated her slender figure without being too tight. A brown ponytail swayed in the breeze.

  “Hi there,” she called, her smile fraught with uncertainty.

  “Hello.” Who was she? Something about her seemed familiar, but Emma couldn’t quite place her. “Are you lost?”

  “No.” Her smile faltered, and her pretty face scrunched up a little as though the awkwardness of their brief exchange grated. “I’m Melanie Lipton.”

  Emma’s breath stopped. That’s why she looked familiar! She had checked Emma’s wounds the night of the mercenary attack before sending her through the evacuation tunnel.

  She was also one of the doctors who worked with Cliff and the other vampires down at network headquarters.

  Why was she here? Had she found out Emma and Cliff were seeing each other?

  Terror filled her. Or had something happened to Cliff?

  Damn it. She couldn’t ask about the last without revealing the first.

  Dr. Lipton closed the car door and held up both hands in a take it easy gesture. “Okay. You’re looking a little panicked right now.”

  Emma swore. She’d tried to keep her expression blank!

  “So let me first say that Cliff is fine. He’s actually sleeping right now, which is great. He hasn’t been doing enough of that lately.”

  Because of the voices.

  Emma’s heart broke for him. “Why are you here?”

  Dr. Lipton lowered her hands. Glancing around as though searching for an answer, she ultimately gave a helpless shrug. “Because I know you’re the reason he’s sleeping. I know you’re the reason the voices are quiet today.”

  Emma struggled to find a response that wouldn’t confirm her relationship with Cliff if the woman was merely fishing for answers.

  With a long sigh, Dr. Lipton took a step forward. “Bastien told me Cliff visited you last night.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  “Because he followed him.”

  Emma’s hackles rose as anger on Cliff’s behalf filled her. “If he doesn’t trust Cliff, why did he tell him he could hunt alone for a few hours?”

  “Bastien does trust him.” She frowned as she continued forward, her steps more bold, until she reached the edge of the shade provided by the oak trees sprinkled about.

  Only a few feet separ
ated them.

  “Bullshit,” Emma countered. “Bastien wouldn’t lie to Cliff and follow him around if he trusted him.”

  “He didn’t lie.”

  Emma arched a brow.

  Melanie grimaced. “Okay. Damn it. I guess he did, but not for the reason you think. He trusts Cliff. We both do. Cliff is a good man, Emma. An exceptional man. Honorable to his core and so strong. The other two vampires who came to live at the network the same time Cliff did succumbed to the insanity in an alarmingly short period of time. One asked Bastien to end it for him. The other…” Her throat worked in a swallow. “The other was too far gone after the mercenaries’ torture. We tried to reach him but couldn’t. So we had to let him go.”

  She blinked several times, dispelling the moisture that rose in her brown eyes. “One of those vampires had been infected a year later than Cliff. We don’t know why or how Cliff has held on to his sanity this long. Most vampires don’t. But he has defied the odds, Emma. Cliff is incredibly strong-willed and determined not to become…” She shook her head helplessly. “Well. He’s determined not to become what he’s destined to become if my colleagues and I can’t find a cure for the virus that won’t kill him.”

  What was left of the afterglow that had remained with Emma all morning vanished.

  Resentment flooded her. Why was this woman here? Why couldn’t they just leave Cliff alone? Leave her alone? She’d been happy. Cliff had been happy. Couldn’t they have one damned night and day of bliss without someone shoving doom and gloom down their throats? “So while Cliff thinks he’s been given two hours of freedom,” she said tightly, “Bastien has been following him around and—what—waiting for him to lose it?”

  Dr. Lipton’s eyes widened. “No! No, of course not!” She bit her lip. “I mean, that is a concern. It would be much better for Cliff if any psychotic breaks he experiences take place in the safety of the network. But our primary concern is that Cliff may inadvertently go too far to gain information for the network and end up being attacked by whatever pack of vampires he’s pumping for information.” She reached out as though to touch Emma’s arm but stopped midmotion and lowered her hand. “It meant so much to Cliff when he saw with his own eyes how many people he helped the morning mercenaries blitzed the network. He’s so afraid that if we aren’t able to halt the brain damage, people will only see him as a monster. That that’s how he’ll be remembered.”

  How he’ll be remembered after the insanity progressed to the point that he chose to die.

  Just the thought of it sent pain streaking through Emma.

  “We’re just worried he’ll try too hard to avoid that fate by being the hero and will seriously endanger himself. That’s why Bastien secretly followed him and stayed downwind. He wants to be close so he can jump in and protect Cliff if the vampires realize he’s an ally of the Immortal Guardians and attack. Vampires are traveling in larger groups now. Cliff is a superlative fighter, but even Immortal Guardians can find themselves outnumbered.”

  Emma’s anger receded. Everything about the woman shouted sincerity. And the argument seemed both logical and worrisome.

  Was Cliff taking unnecessary risks while he was out hunting alone?

  She glanced down at her shoes. Dr. Lipton’s name had come up at lunch on multiple occasions. Each time Cliff’s words and mannerisms had made it clear that he trusted and cared about her. “So Bastien followed Cliff here last night?” she asked, her voice low.

  Melanie nodded.

  Emma closed her eyes, replaying everything she and Cliff had said. Everything they’d done. Every word they’d spoken. Every touch. Every gasp or moan of ecstasy. “How long did he stay outside and listen?”

  Again Melanie bit her lip. “Long enough to ascertain the depth of your relationship.”

  Swearing, Emma turned and paced away. “And by that you mean…?”

  “Long enough to know you slept together.”

  Fury returned, fast and fierce. Bastien had listened to them. He had stood outside and listened while they made love!

  Spinning around, she pointed at Melanie. “That is an incredible invasion of privacy,” she came close to shouting. “He had no right!” No right to tarnish such a beautiful moment. Just the thought of it made her feel sick inside.

  Dr. Lipton threw up a placating hand and spoke quickly. “It isn’t what you think. As soon as he heard enough to know you welcomed Cliff’s presence—”

  “Of course I welcomed his presence! The fact that I yanked Cliff inside as soon as I found him standing on my doorstep made it abundantly clear that I welcomed his presence!” The bastard had listened to them!

  “I know,” Dr. Lipton said, her voice annoyingly calm. “And Bastien would’ve left then, but you started packing, and it sounded as if the two of you were about to go on the run.”

  Oh. Yeah. That would have sounded pretty damning, she grudgingly admitted. “I thought Cliff had escaped.”

  “I know. Bastien told me. And as soon as Cliff cleared that up with you and things turned… amorous…” Pink crept into her cheeks. “Bastien left you alone. He didn’t stay and listen further. He really did leave to give you privacy.” She forced a smile. “He was nervous as hell though until Cliff made an appearance at the rendezvous point. It was the first time since he came to the network that Cliff was truly on his own. And Bastien was terrified that the two of you might really try to disappear.”

  Would that be so bad? a voice inside asked tentatively.

  Yes. It would, the logical side of her insisted. Cliff needed whatever this woman and the other network doctors could do for him.

  “We’re on your side, Emma,” Dr. Lipton proclaimed softly. “Even more so now that we know how you feel about him, that you love him so much you would leave this life behind and take off with him at a moment’s notice if you thought that would keep him safe.”

  Sighing, Emma let her anger drain away. Upon realizing she still clutched the scraper, she tossed it to the ground. “Did Bastien tell Mr. Reordon what happened?” If Mr. Reordon knew, he would surely put a halt to Cliff’s nighttime excursions. Maybe even their lunches, too.

  Despair rose. Was that it then? Would they really only have the one night together? Was that all they would be allowed?

  The backs of her eyes burned with tears she hastily blinked back. Emma wasn’t usually one who cried easily, but damn, the past twenty-four hours had been an emotional roller coaster.

  “No,” Melanie said decisively. “And Bastien has no intention of telling him. Neither do I. It’s none of Chris’s business.”

  At least there was that. “Did you come here to tell me I shouldn’t see him again?” Emma still didn’t know the reason for this visit.

  “Absolutely not. Cliff has not been happy for a long time, Emma. He lost everything when he transformed. His life. His future. His family. Then Vince and Joe. But Bastien said when Cliff left here and met him at Bastien’s old place… he was smiling. Even I noticed a difference in him when they returned to network headquarters. Cliff was more relaxed and at ease than he’s been in two years. And he said the voices were gone.” Reaching out, she took one of Emma’s hands and gave it a squeeze. “You aren’t the only one who loves him, you know. We love him, too. And we desperately want him to be happy.”

  Emma stared at her for a long moment. “If you aren’t going to tell me not to see him, then why are you here?”

  “Because I care about you, too, and there are some things we need to discuss.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know you make Cliff happy. That’s enough,” she declared, her voice ringing with sincerity.

  Emma squeezed her hand, thankful that Cliff had someone like this on his side. “All right, Dr. Lipton. What do you want to talk about?”

  She smiled, a genuine one this time. “Please, call me Melanie.”

  Emma nodded and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’d tell you I’m Emma, but…” />
  “I already know that,” Melanie finished for her as she withdrew her hand.

  Emma motioned to the open garage door. “Would you like to talk inside?”

  “Yes, please. I love the view you have here. But my damn skin burns even faster now than it used to.” She held up the hand she’d extended to Emma.

  Emma stared. “Oh shit.” The skin on Melanie’s hand and much of her forearm was an angry pink from the little bit of sunlight that had touched it. “I forgot you’re an immortal.”

  Melanie laughed. “I do, too, sometimes.”

  “Does it hurt?” Emma led her to the garage via the most shaded route.

  “A little,” she admitted. “Roland Warbrook transformed me, so I can actually tolerate more sunlight than Bastien can. But the ride over here was a long one.”

  Emma led her into the house. “Do you need a bandage or something to wrap it?” She was pretty sure her first aid supplies consisted solely of rubbing alcohol, antibiotic ointment, and a single box of Band-Aids.

  “No, thank you. I’ll be okay.”

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Would you like water? Or maybe tea? I also have some—”

  “I’ll take water, thank you.”

  Emma filled two glasses with cold water from the filtered pitcher in her fridge, then sat with Melanie on the sofa. “Does Bastien know you’re here?”

  “Yes.” After downing several swallows, Melanie smiled wryly. “I had a hell of a time convincing him not to accompany me.”

  “How did you manage it?”

  “I told him we were going to talk about…” Widening her eyes, she intoned dramatically, “…woman stuff.”

  Much to her surprise, Emma found herself laughing. “And that entails?”

  Again Melanie widened her eyes and intoned meaningfully, “Female issues.”

  Emma laughed. “I guess immortal men aren’t so different from mortal men then.”

  Melanie grinned. “Not when it comes to stuff that might drive one to seek the aid of what Bastien would call a vagina doctor.”

  Emma damned near spat her water across the room at that. “A what?”