by Noelle Ryan
The door opened and closed gently behind me, releasing a brief burst of music into the alleyway. Tom joined me on the stairs, linking his arm through mine. He looked over at the pile of vampires blocking the alleyway, and wrinkled his nose at the lingering smell of garlic.
“Maybe I should join you in those self-defense classes of yours,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Looks like I might learn a thing or two.”
The shock that had immobilized me cracked. I rested my head against his arm, closing my eyes.
“Just call me the lean, mean, garlic-spraying machine,” I said, surprised to notice I was actually grinning slightly. “On second thought, scratch that. There’s no euphony in it, and it’s way too long. I guess I’ll have to stick with Aly.”
“Oh good. I like Aly much better.”
“Me too.” I smiled.
Twelve
“So I don’t get it—how could Cesar get out, but none of his people could?” I asked. I was curled up on the couch, scratching Beckett under his chin until his purr vibrated through me. He’d started weaving his way around my legs as soon as I’d let him out, and Valerie had invited me to keep him with us downstairs while we talked.
It had taken another few hours to drop Cesar’s people and vehicles off with one of the Duchess’s knights, but my curiosity (and the nap I’d caught on the drive back) was keeping me alert despite the fact that it was now past three. Luis had taken off as soon as we returned, and Sam had left a few moments later, rather abruptly. He'd come to the base of the stairs as I'd been walking down them, carrying a few kitty treats for Beckett, and looked up as if he was about to ask me something. Then Tom had walked through the foyer and Sam had muttered something about stuff he needed to do at home and left.
Damian, Valerie, Tom and I were all still up, chatting in the sitting room. I’d been surprised to learn that none of Cesar’s vamps had been killed, simply immobilized with a blowfish-derived neurotoxin that, while fatal to humans, was merely a temporary paralytic for us. One of the vamps from the house, in exchange for being transferred out of Cesar’s control and into Damian’s, had confirmed to Temora’s knight that Cesar had known I was a vampire and had planned to drain me of my blood anyway. This confession allowed the Duchess to now officially side with Damian and appropriate all of Cesar’s properties. Excepting the vamp who had confessed, Brandon, the fate of the rest of Cesar’s vassals had yet to be decided. Most of them were refusing to speak, perhaps because Cesar was still missing, and no-one had been able to figure out how he’d pulled his little disappearing act.
“I can’t figure it out,” Tom said. “He’d been hit with as much blowfish as Brandon and the other one, and left in the back of the station wagon with both of them.”
I found it highly amusing that a vamp as slick and power hungry as Cesar would keep a mom-mobile in his garage, and I smirked. Tom gave me a puzzled look, but continued. “When I came back after doing a final sweep of the house, Cesar was gone, and the other two were still knocked out in the back. I got your text about then, so we didn’t have the time to do another thorough search before leaving.”
“And,” Valerie added, “by the time we got you, contacted Temora’s knight, and got back to Cesar’s house there wasn’t a trace to be found—assuming there were any in the first place.”
“There are always traces,” Damian muttered, staring into the empty fireplace. He hadn’t looked at me since I’d told him I wasn’t picking up on anything at Cesar’s. The shame of disappointing him sat like a brick, which in turn ticked me off since I felt like no-one who I’d known for only a couple days had the right to such high expectations of me. But he clearly thought he did, and part of me seemed determined to feel bad no matter how much my rational mind told me it was idiotic.
Cesar’s house, in fact, had been oddly empty of sensation. After the mix of sensations that had been imposing themselves on me throughout the night, it had been extremely strange to walk through room after room and feel absolutely nothing: no pricks of warmth or ice at my shoulders, no clenching in my gut, no fear or relief or even anger. Cesar’s place had felt like the banana I’d tried to eat shortly after being turned: nothing wrong with it directly, but so empty of everything as to make it faintly nauseating. I had gone outside again as soon as I could rationalize it, taking deep breaths of the pine-scented air.
“In a way, it’s almost like there are more traces of him here than there were there,” I murmured, continuing my train of thought aloud.
“What does that mean? Do you think he’s going to attack us here, Aly?” Tom asked.
I could feel him tensing for a fight from across the room. I admired his readiness—I was so wiped that even if Cesar himself had appeared in the living room at that moment I didn’t think I could have done much more than politely ask him if it could wait until tomorrow.
“No,” I shook my head. “I just meant his house was bizarrely empty. Here you can kind of taste how much concern and planning has been going on in response to him. But there, it was like being in a house that hadn’t been lived in for months.”
“Hmmph—that mess didn’t look unlived in to me,” Valerie said, arching an eyebrow.
Tom pressed his lips together for a moment, then nodded.
“I think I see what you mean," he said, "almost like it was museum’s display of a lived in house, rather than an actually lived in house.”
“Yeah, kind of.” I nodded. “Not that my observation helps us figure out how he disappeared though,” I added, the shame firmly back onto my shoulders.
“Actually…” Damian whispered, and then zipped out of the room with unnatural speed. Even though I was capable of doing the same, it was still creepy to watch, and I suppressed a shiver.
“Damian?” Valerie said, hopping up to follow him.
Tom and I exchanged glances, and then I snuggled deeper into my comfortable corner of the couch. Everything was starting to catch up with me, and I began weighing my curiosity against my fatigue, trying to determine which was stronger at this point.
“You should really have something to drink before going to sleep so you don’t wake up raging,” Tom said.
“Mmmm,” I responded insightfully, my eyelids tugging closed.
I heard Tom chuckle, and then the rapid whisper of his footsteps leaving and returning, with only the briefest pause in between. Then I felt him set something beside me.
“Drink,” he said.
“Mmm,” I said, continuing to prove my conversational brilliance.
“You know, it’s very hard to take care of a new vamp who doesn’t have to obey orders,” he said, trying to sound stern but failing, since I could hear him smiling.
Half-asleep, I felt a soft shift as the cushion next to me sank down under his weight, and then the slippery touch of a bag being slid into my hands. When I didn’t move my hands, Tom lifted them towards my mouth for me, until the pack was close enough that I could faintly smell the blood through the oily scent of the plastic. That woke me up, and I slid a corner in my mouth and bit down, drinking with a hunger that was both abrupt and deep. When I finished the first one, Tom handed me another, and I went through several within minutes.
“Thank you,” I said.
I opened my eyes, planning to tell him I was heading for bed just as soon as I found where Beckett had scooted off to. But once I looked at him I found myself wishing I’d just kept them shut. He was watching me intently, his pupils dilated to a frightening black, his lips just barely parted, and his hands curled into tight fists in his lap.
“Tom?” I said, trying my best to keep any trace of fear out of my voice.
“Your lips…” his voice trailed off, and he gestured towards my face. I lifted my hand, brushing it across my mouth. There was a smear of blood across my fingers.
“Do you want me to get you a few packs?” I asked.
“I gave you the last of them,” he said, looking away, his voice still deeper than normal. “I thought I’
d be fine since I drank yesterday. Usually I only need blood a couple times a week.”
He got up and began pacing, his gait eerily reminiscent of a jaguar that’s been penned up in far too small a cage at the zoo.
“What can I do?” I said, standing up. I began smoothing my hands across my pants unconsciously, trying to keep calm, until Tom stared at the motion, and I stopped.
“Nothing, I’ll just…I’ll just go out.”
He turned for the foyer, and I saw a flash of fear on his face that I couldn’t decipher. And then I remembered what he’d told me early on—that you didn’t have to kill people as long as you didn’t let yourself get too hungry. Was he too hungry to maintain control?
“Tom, wait,” I said, catching up with him as he was about to open the door. “Is there, um, anything else? Anything I can do to help you gain some control before you, uh, go out?”
”Yes, but…” He studied my face, looking for the answer to a question that hadn’t been asked. “Normally this wouldn’t work, but since I turned you and you just drank, I…” he paused “I could drink from you.”
I froze. He saw my fear, and turned away, reaching for the door. He paused, his hand resting on the knob, staring at the threshold.
“It’s fine, Aly. I’ll be fine.” He slipped out, closing the door behind him.
It took only a moment for my muscles to unlock, but then I went flying out the door after him.
“Tom, wait!” I called out, seeing him already a good fifty paces up the block. He didn’t turn. I broke into a run, catching him just as he reached the stop sign at the corner. I gripped his arm tightly, so he wouldn’t pull away while I tried to figure out what to say.
“Please, don't,” he said. “The longer I wait, the harder it will be to control.”
“You said…you said it doesn’t have to hurt,” I said.
He looked at me, the surprise plain on his face.
“Yes, but—I don’t want you to be scared of me, Aly.”
“You might lose control without it though, right?”
He glanced away sharply, his obvious fear answering my question.
“Then do it,” I said. “I couldn’t forgive myself if someone got hurt because I was too scared to deal with what we are.”
“Are you sure? I want you to be sure about this.”
I nodded, and before I had the chance to ask him what happened next he had pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my back and gently caressing the base of my neck with one hand. Warmth flooded through me, suddenly bending the knees I hadn’t realized I’d locked, and I would have collapsed had he not been pressing me to him so tightly. I regained my balance just before his head bent to my neck, his lips pressing against me for only a second before his teeth slid into my skin.
I gasped, my eyes shooting wide at the wave of pure pleasure that rocked through me. This is what it felt like to get bit? Holy crap! How does he not have humans trailing him like lovelorn stalkers everywhere he goes? My hands reached up and fisted in his hair. I couldn’t speak, but my mind was repeating Don’t stop like a broken record playing at full volume. The tug of his mouth seemed to pull not just at my neck but throughout my whole body, leaving tingling pockets in my arched fingers and curled toes.
And then he stopped, and I heard a moan. It took me a few seconds to realize it had come from me, and I think every last drop of blood that was left in me rushed to my cheeks. I was too embarrassed to look at him, and so I murmured into his shoulder “Why did you stop?”
“I didn’t want to take too much—you need your strength too,” he whispered, his breath tickling the edges of my ear. “I just needed enough to take the edge off, so I don’t lose control.”
“Wait,” I stepped back and looked at him. “You’re still going out to feed?”
“Of course,” he said, giving me a puzzled glance. “I don’t need as much as you but I do need more than that.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “Not that I wouldn’t rather spend my time with you, especially since you seemed to be…enjoying yourself.” He grinned at me, and I felt myself blushing again. Clearly I had plenty of blood left.
I stepped back, out of his embrace, and looked away. What was my problem? I’d been fine with him going off to feed before.
Yeah, but that was before you knew how it felt, I mentally retorted. Was I really…jealous? I had no right to be. We weren’t dating—though at least some parts of me appeared to be quite eager to change that state of affairs, I realized—and even if we were, he’d still need to turn to humans to feed. I had no right to wish otherwise.
Not that having no rational reason to feel some way had ever stopped me before.
“Aly, what’s going on up there?” Tom asked, gently brushing his fingers across my temple. I shivered, my skin tingling.
“Um, well, I, uh,” I stammered, having no idea what to tell him. Certainly not that I was jealous of his food. “Just spacing out, I guess. I’m really tired, and after that, well…” I tried to grin at him coyly. When all else fails, turn on the flirty girl approach. “I think now I’m really ready for bed.” I hit “bed” with as much innuendo as I could manage in my flustered state and turned to begin walking back to Damian and Valerie’s, trying to swing my hips suggestively. “See you tomorrow, I guess,” I called over my shoulder.
“Aly, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look like you’re limping.”
Well, crap. So much for my suggestive swagger. I tripped slightly, returning to my normal walk, glad he couldn’t see my latest blush. Couldn’t he have taken just a little more blood? I feel like a lobster.
“Just tired!” I called back, hoping I sounded cheerfully resilient rather than humiliated. And then my fatigue returned in earnest, and I sped back to Damian and Valerie’s before I fell asleep on the sidewalk.
Thirteen
The next morning—well, afternoon—I actually woke up feeling pretty good. Of course, it may have had something to do with the rather inventive and enjoyable dreams my imagination had seen fit to weave out of my encounter with Tom. I stretched out across the bed, in no hurry to rush about for once, now that most of Cesar’s people were imprisoned and Temora’s knights were after Cesar himself.
After dawdling in pleasant recollections of my dreams for a few minutes, the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs reminded me that now might be the perfect time to finally get a few more answers to my growing list of vampire questions. After last night, I was specifically curious as to whether it was possible to feed without triggering either lust or fear in the one being fed upon, since those were my only two experiences, and I wasn’t wild about the prospect of Tom inducing either of them in humans. I knew I still had no right to be jealous, but knowing that didn’t seem to be making the slightest bit of difference, and it both frustrated me and piqued my curiosity. I’d never been the jealous type before—I’d had more of a “hey, if you think you can do better, go for it” kind of attitude—and I was wondering whether this sudden change was due to becoming a vampire or due to being more interested in Tom than I generally had been in the guys I’d been dating over the last few years.
Beckett strolled over and head-butted me in the leg, reminding me that, at least in his opinion, getting him fed was far more important than over-analyzing myself.
“Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry,” I said, laughing as I went to pour him some fresh food and water.
There was a quiet tap on my door.
“Just a sec,” I called out, swapping my pajamas for the knee-length cotton dress I’d tossed in my bag. I was tired of living in my jeans—plus today would hopefully not require rugged attire. “If you don’t mind talking to me while I brush my teeth, you’re welcome to come in now,” I added once I was fully dressed and walking towards the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you. I thought I heard you talking to someone,” Valerie said as she entered, scanning the still unmade bed and balled up p.j.s.
“Oh, I wa’ juh ‘alking ‘oo
Beh-ett,” I said around my toothbrush, hoping she understood me. I finished up quickly, rinsed my mouth out, and returned to the bedroom. “Did you need something?”
“Mmm?” she said, clearly distracted. She was watching Beckett eat with a faintly wistful look on her face that made me wonder why she didn’t keep a pet. “Oh, I was just going to invite you to come downstairs to join us. Damian thinks he may know how Cesar escaped and why you couldn’t sense anything at his house.”
My shoulders fell. So much for my plans for a relaxing Saturday afternoon. Still, it wasn’t like I could say sorry, but I just don’t feel like talking about the guy that’s trying to capture and kill me today. How’s tomorrow look for you? So I nodded and followed her downstairs.
Neither Sam nor Luis was with Tom and Damian in the sitting room, causing me to wonder once again just what had gotten into Sam last night. I plopped down in what I was starting to think of as "my" corner of the couch, while Valerie gracefully sank into a chair beside me. That whole effortless grace thing was clearly something I needed to work on—either that, or I could just give up blending in altogether and make myself a t-shirt that said “newbie vampire” in colorful block letters across the chest.
“I was just explaining to Valerie and Tom that I think Cesar may have found some way to bond a member of the Seelie to him. It would explain both his disappearance and the muted psychic residue in his home,” Damian said.
“A what?” I said.
“A member of the Seelie. It might help you to think of it as a Light Elf,” Tom said, as nonchalantly as if he’d said “a stray cat.”
“Thank you, that was so terribly helpful.” I said, resisting the urge to outright roll my eyes. “Now could someone explain to me just what ‘a Light Elf’ is? Are we talking pointy ears and magic, or have I just read too much Tolkein?”