Kiss and Tell

by Sandy Lynn

  “You’re right, and it was wrong of me. But I’m not exactly accustomed to just telling everyone I know—women that I pick up in a bar—that I’m a vampire.”

  “I don’t care what you do with everyone else!” She certainly didn’t like hearing about him picking up other women. “I can forgive—hell, I can ignore the first time you did it. You didn’t know me from Eve. I understand you wouldn’t want your secret out. But after that, after you invited me to stay here with you, I had a right to know.”

  “What do you want me to say? You’re right. And ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t begin to cover how I feel.”

  “But would you feel the same way if I hadn’t found out your secret?” She stood and started to pace across the room. “Would you still be sitting here telling me how sorry you are if I hadn’t run out of here?”

  “I was planning on telling you. I was going to tell you the night you found out.” He looked away from her.

  “What happened?” she asked curiously, stepping closer.

  “I was afraid you would run from me. That you would freak-out and run screaming from my apartment wearing nothing but what you had on at the time. I just wanted one more taste.” He turned to look into her eyes. “I just needed one more taste of you, in case you decided to leave.”

  She was speechless. What could she say? She had reacted exactly as he believed she would when she found out the truth.

  “I didn’t know vampires’ stomachs growled,” she changed the subject.

  “They don’t.”

  “Then how…why… Now I’m confused.” She sat back down on the couch, facing him.

  Seth gave a bitter laugh. “Join the club, swe…Willow.”

  “You never answered my question earlier. Did you feed after I left?”

  “Every night. More than once on some nights.” He watched her as he spoke. Was he trying to gauge her reaction?

  Willow felt an instant surge of anger rush up from his answer. She clenched her jaw to prevent herself from spitting an insult at him, reminding herself it was none of her business whom he “ate”.

  “But it didn’t seem to matter,” he continued. “No one satisfied me. No one was able to ease my thirst, my pain. No one, until you did last night.”

  “I don’t care if they ‘satisfied’ you. It’s none of my business what happened between you and your donors. It’s not like I want every little detail,” she replied cattily, trying to sound as if she didn’t care about his answer.

  Seth chuckled. “Feeding isn’t something sexual unless I make it that way.”

  Willow sniffed in disbelief, her hand automatically covering the sore spot above her thigh. “You expect me to believe that you don’t have sex with your donors? What, did I get ‘stupid’ tattooed across my forehead while I was asleep?”

  “I didn’t say that. Sex does make the blood sweeter. Compare it to a milkshake. The excess adrenaline is the ice cream—sweet and creamy. The orgasm acts like the whipped cream and together they slide down your throat, refreshing you, making you glad you indulged. The more powerful the orgasm, the more intoxicating the blood is.”

  “I really did not feel the need—or the desire—to know that. But thanks for sharing,” she spit out sarcastically. “I’m gonna be really mad if I can’t enjoy one of my favorite drinks anymore now that you’ve compared it to blood.”

  “Yes, I have drank from women after pleasuring them in bed. It was a give-take relationship. I gave them pleasure, and they gave me their blood.”

  “You mean you took their blood. Giving implies consent.”

  “Fine, I took their blood. The only side effect was they felt as though they had donated blood, which they had done, even if they didn’t know about it. And I happen to believe my…method is more pleasant than someone jabbing your arm with a needle then just handing you a cookie and some juice.”

  “What exactly is the point here?” Willow asked irritably. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of him with all those other women, the way he dismissed having sex with countless other women, made her want to slap him. Hard. Possibly repeating the gesture until her hand hurt.

  “The point, Willow, is that feeding is precisely that for me. Tell me, is there anything sexual to you about eating a slice of pizza?”

  “Depends on how you eat it,” she responded before she could stop herself.

  “Exactly. You were the first woman who has ever experienced an orgasm simply from my bite.”

  “And why exactly do you think I care about that?” She tried to keep her voice neutral.

  “I just know.” She waited a second for him to expand on his answer, but he didn’t.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

  “There’s nothing for you to be jealous of.”

  “Who says I’m jealous? I’m not jealous,” she protested.

  “Yes, you are. I can see it written all over you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “While we’re on the subject,” she ignored his comment about her jealousy, “other than invading my dreams, what other mind games can you play?”

  “Mind games?” Seth asked, confused.

  “Yeah, mind games. You can enter my mind while I’m sleeping, can you enter while I’m awake? Can you read my thoughts?”

  “Yes, I can look into your mind if I wish to. It’s easier if we are both in the same room, but with enough concentration I can reach you anywhere.”

  “Because you drank from me?” She had a feeling that she already knew the answer to her question.

  “No.” He shook his head. “But it does make it much easier. It becomes easier still if you taste my blood.”

  “Are you reading my thoughts now?” Willow asked, clearly deciding to ignore the “drinking his blood” portion of the answer.

  “No.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “If I were reading your thoughts this conversation would be much easier.” Seth laid his head back on the couch. “At least in your thoughts, I can understand the full context of what you’re asking and give you a full answer.”

  “That was how you knew what my bathing suit looked like.”

  “Yes.”

  “If you’re not reading my thoughts, why do you think I’m jealous?” she argued.

  Seth turned his head to face her and opened his eyes. “Willow, if your jaw gets any tighter you might crack a tooth. And I’m pretty sure the pillow in your hands is about to rip. Unless, perhaps it has somehow found a way to annoy you?”

  Looking down, she was surprised to see a small cream colored pillow in her hands. She couldn’t remember picking it up. Her knuckles were white, and the fabric stretched so taut she was shocked it hadn’t been shredded by her grip. Forcing herself to relax her hands, she put it down. “That still doesn’t mean I’m jealous. It doesn’t prove anything.”

  Seth gave her a pained but very patient look.

  “I’m not jealous,” she insisted. “Let’s see, thus far we’ve established that you’re a vampire, you can enter my dreams and read my thoughts, and feeding isn’t sexual for you,” she changed the subject again. She didn’t like him thinking that she was jealous. Especially when she refused to admit she was feeling that way to herself. “Oh, and after you drank from me no other woman seemed to quite, ‘satisfy’ you.”

  “Yes.” He agreed without moving.

  “What else do I need to know?”

  “What else would you like to know?”

  “Do I have to go get tested? Do vampires get STDs?”

  “No,” he chuckled. “There is no blood disease in existence that can harm us. Something about the way our bodies process blood.”

  “What about pregnancy? Is there a chance you could have gotten me pregnant?”

  “Yes. But,” he added quickly before she could begin to panic, “it is very hard for my people and full humans to have a child. Statistically, it’s almost impossible.”

  “Almost impossible. That’s different from
impossible. It means there is still a chance. Okay, that’s fine, I’ll just ride it out. No need to panic and scare myself yet… When did you die?”

  “I’m sorry? Could you repeat the last question?” Seth jerked his head up from the back of the couch where it had been resting.

  “Is it a sensitive subject? It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. Of course it’s on the weird side, and if I stop to think about it I might start to freak again. I’m sure I’ll get over it eventually… I just never imagined I’d be into necrophilia…”

  “I. Am. Not. Dead. Do I look dead? Do I feel dead? By the old gods, why do you think I’m dead?”

  “Vampires are always dead. That’s how they’re made. It’s what all the books and shows say…” Her voice trailed off as she confessed her source of information.

  “And once again, pop culture misses the truth. I did not die. I was not turned into a vampire. I was born a vampire. I’ve always been a vampire.”

  “When were you born?”

  “Eight hundred years ago.”

  “Wow. You’re old! Way old…older than old… At least you do look good for your age,” she complimented him, her gaze traveling over his body. “Very good…”

  “Thank you,” he answered tersely.

  “Can you eat? I mean other than blood?”

  “Yes. I happen to find some foods very pleasing, but it’s not necessary. My body gains no nourishment from regular foods, though sometimes I do have a sweet tooth. How exactly is this helping you?” He sounded curious and somewhat annoyed. Willow guessed it was the whole “when did you die” question. Maybe she’d struck a nerve.

  “It just is. And you aren’t sure what it means that your body only seems to want my blood? Why my blood? What’s special about it? More importantly, what will happen to you if I walk out that door and never look back?”

  “I’m not sure,” he lied. Seth closed his eyes and leaned his head back once more. “I don’t know why my body won’t accept any other blood and I can only guess what would happen to me. I believe one of two things will happen. The first guess is that if I can allow myself to become hungry enough I might be able to break past whatever is stopping me from gaining nourishment elsewhere. But then I also run the risk of draining whomever I drink from, unable to stop myself in my hunger.”

  “Or,” she prompted. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t quite buy his answer. There was something about the way he refused to look her in the eye, the way he was avoiding looking at her altogether.

  “Or, I’ll starve to death.” He said it without being condescending, as if he were merely discussing cold facts instead of his life.

  “Basically, you’re telling me if I walk away I’ll kill you?”

  “We don’t know that…” He hadn’t moved. Seth kept his head resting against the back of the couch as though they were discussing something of little importance rather than his life.

  “Seth, don’t lie to me. At least pretend you have more respect for me than that. Treat me like I was something more than just a free meal or two.”

  Seth lifted his head and stared into her face. “Fine. Does it make you feel better to know that I know if you walk away I will die? That I will slowly starve to death because no other blood will ease my hunger? I’m prepared to accept my fate.”

  “But… I could…” Her heart wrenched at the thought of losing him.

  “No. Don’t even think about it,” he snarled. “I won’t let you stay in my life because you feel an obligation to me. I’d rather be dead than know the only reason you’re here is to feed me.”

  “Seth…”

  “No. That is not negotiable, Willow.”

  “And just how do you plan on stopping me if that’s what I decide to do?” she asked, her tone growing harsh to match his.

  “Simple, I’ll refuse to drink.”

  “Yeah, because it worked so well last time you tried to refuse me, right?” She was too angry to worry about blushing over the memory of how she’d enticed him to drink.

  “Why do you care?” he roared. “I’m nothing more than a monster to you. Why do you care if I live or die? You walked out on me. You can’t do that then just pretend like everything is fine. I won’t let you stomp all over my poor ‘undead’ heart again.”

  “What?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

  “Nothing.” He stormed out of the room.

  Willow followed him into the kitchen. She couldn’t have heard him correctly, right? I stomped on his heart?

  Seth gestured to the pile of chocolate on the counter. “If you still want chocolate, I grabbed plenty. I wasn’t sure what you liked…”

  “Whoa, back up there, vamp-boy. Did you say you won’t let me stomp all over your heart again? As in, I’ve already stomped on it once?”

  “Does it matter?” He played with a chocolate bar and refused to look at her.

  “I do care. I don’t know why. God knows I don’t understand it. But seeing you so weak last night, knowing that you needed help… I couldn’t just walk away.”

  “Great. Just what every man wants to hear.” Sarcasm dripped from his every word. “I don’t want your pity. Don’t worry about me, I’ve survived for eight hundred years without you in my life, I’m sure I’ll be just fine after you leave. And I assure you, now that I know precisely how you feel, I will not ‘terrorize’ your dreams any longer.” Seth turned and walked away from her again.

  This time Willow didn’t follow him. She grabbed one of the chocolate bars and made her way to the elevator. There was too much to think about right now. She needed some time and space to consider what she had learned. And something deep inside her insisted Seth needed some space as well.

  With an oddly heavy heart, Willow pressed the lobby button. This time, before she left the building she grabbed a business card giving the address, just in case she decided to try to check on Seth.

  Climbing inside a taxi, she kept the card firmly inside her hand instead of placing it in her pocket.

  When they arrived at her building, she was thankful that she’d worn jeans and remembered to take money with her. After paying the driver, she hurried to her apartment, lost in her own thoughts.

  When Roxy opened the door, Willow surprised her sister by simply walking past her, ignoring all of her questions. She strode to her bedroom and shut the door, locking it just to be sure Roxy didn’t barge in.

  Seconds later she was glad she’d taken the time to turn the lock as her sister banged on the door. “Willow! Open this door this minute. Tell me what is going on right now.” Roxy kept demanding answers as she hammered on Willow’s door as though she were trying to break it down.

  Taking her cue from Seth’s behavior earlier, Willow shouted, “Leave me the hell alone.”

  She knew her sister wouldn’t be prepared for her anger, but she needed time to herself to decide what she wanted. She was right, almost instantly the pounding stopped.

  Willow paced inside the room like a caged animal, questions and feelings almost overwhelming her.

  Can I be with a man who only sees me as a meal? Dinner and dessert, anytime he wants it?

  But does he just feel that way about me? He wouldn’t have made the “stomp all over his heart comment” if I was just a walking buffet, would he?

  But won’t a man—vampire—whatever, say anything he needs to if he isn’t ready to die?

  Could we just be friends? I could just let him drink from me every few days… We could just become best friends…

  Willow couldn’t even convince herself of the plausibility of that last thought. She could never handle watching him smile and flirt with another woman.

  Unable to handle her rampant thoughts any longer, Willow lay on her bed. Even terrified Seth would come to her in her dreams again, she’d still felt comfort in being able to sleep. She may have limited how much sleep she allowed herself, but there was a small amount of comfort in the knowledge that there was a chance he would come to her
, that he would hold her.

  As she lay in the bed now, Willow couldn’t help but shudder. The thought of sleep no longer comforted her. He’d promised he would never enter her dreams again. Without any chance of seeing him again, sleeping seemed a bleak and hopeless action. She wondered if she could try to find him, if their connection was a two-way deal.

  Clinging to that tiny thread of hope, Willow closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep.