by Noelle Ryan
“Authorized?”
“By Temora, Duchess of the south-eastern United States.” I must have made a small choking sound as I tried to process how a country founded on revolt against monarchy could contain royalty, because Damian added “I’ll have to teach you about vampire politics some other time, paidi mou. For now I need you to come back here so I can discuss our plans with you and so I can assure your safety until this situation is resolved.”
“Fine,” I said. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I knew it just wasn’t realistic for me to protect myself when I was still occasionally tempted to curl up fetal style on my living room rug. “I remember how to get there. Give me enough time to get showered and changed and I’ll head that way.”
“Actually, Tom was quite eager to volunteer himself as your chauffeur. He should be there in about five minutes.”
“Gee, thanks for the advanced notice.”
“And here I thought advanced notice was something you could provide entirely on your own,” he said, chuckling. I hung up.
Tom could just sit on my “go away” mat outside until I was ready; I needed a shower. I tossed my jeans and t-shirt into my dirty clothes hamper, even though I hadn’t been wearing them for more than an hour—I knew it was stupid, but it felt like one area of my life I could keep neat and tidy right now. Then I snagged a clean towel, jeans, and sleeveless blouse and headed into the bathroom.
The shower—especially my favorite spoil-myself citrus scented salon shampoo and conditioner—helped me shake off some of my lingering melancholy and I emerged from the bathroom with my towel turban style on my head, singing along to the Sarah McLachlan I’d left playing on my shower radio. I serenaded myself back into my room, deciding to throw a change of clothes, my pajamas (with a new hole-free t-shirt this time), and my toothbrush into an overnight bag in case I needed to crash at Damian and Valerie’s place tonight. Then, deciding an offer to protect me included my cat, I snagged a small baggie of cat food plus Beckett’s carrier and portable litterbox. I found him napping under the couch, and I chuckled at the combination of handsome disdain on his face and tuxedo patterning on his body.
“Hey handsome, at least you’re better dressed for their digs than I am,” I said, and unceremoniously dumped him into his carrier. He yowled in protest.
“I didn’t realize we needed a chaperone for our trip,” Tom said, emerging from my little balcony. I flinched, but managed to keep myself from emitting the embarrassingly girly shriek that was now sitting on the tip of my tongue. Damn, why was he able to catch me off guard like that when I could sense everyone else?
“I’m able to shield myself from psychic radar, so to speak, if I’m paying attention.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I thought you weren’t telepathic,” I said.
“I’m not—you’re just exceptionally easy for me to read.” He grinned. “By the way, Damian said he didn’t care if I dropped your class as long as I still kept an eye on you while you were on campus. I just got off the phone with the registrar—I’m officially not you’re student any longer, Professor.” His grin widened, and my stomach lurched as I remembered Dorothy’s parting advice.
“How fascinating,” I said dryly, deciding bitchiness was my best stalling tactic at the moment. I felt slightly guilty when the grin snapped off his face, though. “Sorry—I’m a little on edge, what with this whole vampires trying to kill me thing. Can we discuss your dinner offer some other time?”
“If you'd like.”
He held out a ridiculously large pair of wrap-around sunglasses. Then he retrieved my overnight bag and Beckett’s litter box, leaving me with just my purse and the cat carrier. I was sliding the massive sunglasses on when I noticed my unfinished two-column list sitting on the kitchen table, and I dropped it in my bag, vowing to finish it later.
Several minutes and one awkwardly silent car ride later, we were back at Damian and Valerie’s. The awkwardness probably would have bothered me more if I hadn’t been so relieved to discover the sunglasses truly could block the migraines. I would incur as many tickets from the fashion police as I had to if it kept those nasty spikes out of my head. Grateful for the reprieve, I smiled at Tom—he looked surprised for a moment and then smiled back, his shoulders noticeably relaxing. Then he hopped out of the car and almost bounced up the steps with my stuff, walking in without knocking, and I realized that my gratitude probably looked a lot like a yes to his dinner invite.
I followed him with somewhat less alacrity than he’d shown, arriving in time to hear him asking Valerie where she wanted him to put my stuff.
“I hope you don’t mind, Valerie,” I called out, “but I brought Beckett with me. I just don’t feel safe leaving him at my place while there are vampires hunting me.”
“Of course not dear,” Valerie said, emerging from around the corner. “He’s as welcome as you are. Is that him there?” She peered into Beckett’s carrier, cooing softly. “Aren’t you just a handsome little fella?” She straightened. “He can stay with you in the guest room; it’s up the stairs and to the left. It’s best if he’s confined to that one room so we don’t have to worry about him getting out; Sam and Luis can be a bit careless with the door at times.”
“Thanks.” I paused. “May I ask you a question, Valerie?”
“Yes?”
“Why does Damian call Samuel and Thomas by their full names when neither you nor anyone else does?”
Valerie smiled. “Older vampires, especially those who spend less time with humans, find it harder to adapt to the informalities of modern speech. Damian is over five hundred years old and he hasn’t spent as much time with humans since your great-grandmother died, so he is more formal than the rest of us. Though I’m almost as old as he is, I spend far more time with humans, so I’m not nearly as formal.”
“I see,” I said, though my mind was spinning with this new information. I was sharing a house with people who could measure their collective experience in millennia rather than decades? My god, I must seem like a child to them.
“How old is Tom?” I asked, suddenly slightly queasy at the thought of having kissed someone who might be centuries older than me.
“He’s the youngest—Damian turned him in the fifties or sixties, I believe.” She smiled at me. “But you should really ask Tom about that, not me.”
Slightly relieved, I went to find my room and give Beckett a chance to stretch his legs. When I turned left at the top of the stairs, I saw an open door that lead into a beautiful pastel yellow room with gauzy white curtains (backed, I noticed, by a very solid set of white blackout panels) and a queen sized platform bed made of pale wood. It couldn’t have been more to my taste if I had designed it myself. I noticed Tom through an open door on the other side of the room, setting up the litterbox.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, setting the carrier down and rushing over to help. “Litterboxes aren’t pleasant even when it’s your own cat’s, much less someone else’s”
“I don’t mind,” he said, smiling up at me. “Besides, I’m finished now.”
It was then I noticed that the room we were standing in was a bathroom three times the size of my own. A tub large enough for two sat in one corner, with jets spaced around its sides, and a shower with multiple showerheads at various heights stood in the other corner. Between them was a simple-but-large sink, counter and mirror set-up that I found myself instantly envious of.
“Good lord, do you think they’d let me move in permanently?” I whispered, only half joking. Tom laughed.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure Damian has this suite remodeled with you in mind a few years ago. He’d never admit to it though, so don’t bother asking him.”
My eyes widened, though I wasn’t sure if it was with shock, fear, or gratitude. He’d been planning to invite me into his home for that long? Why?
“Don’t freak out, Aly, it was probably just a whim. Valerie wanted this part of the house updated to something a bit more m
odern, and you’re the only ‘modern’ person Damian has the slightest bit of interest in, so you were sort of a natural fit for the inspiration.”
Somehow I didn’t believe Damian would do anything on “just a whim” but I decided to leave it alone for now. Why spoil a gorgeous space with over-thinking, especially when I had plenty of other things to be sorting out. Such as the sexy vampire I suddenly became conscious I was standing only inches from.
“Better let the cat out,” I said, backpedalling out of the bathroom. Tom gave me a quizzical smile, but I ignored it, shutting the door and opening the cat carrier. Beckett sauntered out slowly, as if he didn’t care in the least that he’d been cramped up for a good half an hour, and set about exploring his new digs with idle curiosity. I grinned at his casual comfort. Everything I need to know I could probably learn from my cat, I thought.
Beckett strolled over to Tom and Tom leaned down, scratching him behind the ears. Beckett’s responding purr sounded like a small diesel engine come to life.
“Sounds like I’ve made a new friend,” Tom said.
“Mmm,” I said, distracted. I’d just realized I was hungry again. “Hey, do they keep their fridge stocked? I forgot to drink the ones you brought to my place.”
“I think they stocked some for you, actually. They usually go out for theirs.” Yeah, I bet they did. I flashed briefly back to last night, and that delicious warmth…. A small shudder went through me, and I hopped to my feet to conceal it, heading for the door.
“You coming, or are you and Beckett going to spend some quality time together?”
Tom smirked and followed me out, closing the door silently behind us. We made our way to the kitchen, finding Valerie, Damian, and Sam already there.
“Breaking in the new room?” Sam said, arching an eyebrow. I blushed.
“I’m happy to break in that mouth of yours,” Tom responded, reaching for Sam’s head. My blush turned into a stifled laugh at the sight of two decades-older-than-me vampires bickering like ten year olds. Then Valerie sighed, and they instantly stopped scuffling.
“Can I get you something Aly?” she asked.
Glancing at the blush that had resumed possession of my face, Tom replied for me. “She’s hungry. Mind if I grab her a few bags from the fridge?”
“That’s why they’re there,” she said.
Tom swung open the sleek stainless fridge and grabbed a few packs, tossing them to me. I carried them with me to the dining table, uncomfortable drinking in front of everyone. Then Tom came and joined me with his own pack. The slight face he made after biting into it told me he wasn’t actually drinking it for his own enjoyment, and I found it kind of sweet that he was doing it just to make me feel more comfortable.
“Ugh,” Sam said, “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff cold. Disgusting.”
Then I heard a small popping sound, and I turned to see Valerie glaring at Sam while he rubbed the back of his head and quickly walked out of the room. I turned back to my pack, startled to notice I’d already drained it dry. I reached for a second one.
I heard Valerie’s light step behind me.
“I of course respect your wish to feed this way, but if you ever care to see how pleasant it can be for both parties when done directly just let me know. I’m happy to show you.”
Out of politeness, I made sure I wasn’t wincing when I turned to face her. “Thank you,” I said, “but I’m fine with this for now.”
“As you wish. I’ll make sure Damian picks up some more tomorrow.”
It dawned on me how much I was depending upon them. I had no idea how they were getting these bags of blood, how much they cost, if they were stolen…my god, what if I was causing some local hospital to be deprived of the blood supplies they needed for emergencies? My pace slackened, and I finished the second bag out of inertia more than anything else, carefully scooping the rest up and returning them to the fridge. Valerie watched me.
“You should probably drink another bag or two, Aly,” she said quietly.
“Um, no thanks, I, uh, I’m not hungry anymore.”
She nodded, glanced briefly at Tom, and left the room.
“Aly, what’s going on? I know you’ve got to still be hungry—I had to drink at least a gallon a day for the first few weeks,” Tom said.
“No, I’m full, really” I said, staring at the ground.
I stiffened as I realized what I’d done. Damnit! I’d managed to go four years without lying to my friends before being turned, and now I was doing it left and right. This had to stop. I steeled myself, and looked up at him.
“Actually, that’s not true,” I said. “I just—I hate being dependent on people, much less people I hardly know. You’ve all been nothing but extremely kind to me, but it just doesn’t feel right. I haven’t depended on someone else to provide my food since I was a kid living with my parents, and even then I was expected to help pull my own weight. Here I just feel like…” like a leech? A nasty little bloodsucker? Oh, that was rich. “…like I’m mooching off of everyone, and providing nothing in return. And it upsets me to think that I might be taking blood away from humans who could really use it, who might die without it.”
“Do you really think Damian would be getting you blood that was needed elsewhere?” he asked.
“How should I know? You all keep treating me as if we’ve known each other for ages, and I suppose I understand why…” I paused to stuff down the resentment I felt every time I thought about how I’d been spied on. Now was not the time to go into that. “…but everyone seems to forget that I’ve only known you all for a matter of days.”
“I’ve been in your class for the last few weeks, Aly.”
“Not as yourself, you haven’t,” I said. “And I didn’t meet everyone else until yesterday, when I only got a few moments to talk before we were all attacked, and then I kind of cracked, and they broke Valerie’s favorite mirror, and I knocked out Luis, and then you and I, and, and…”
I stopped, realizing I was babbling. I would not cry. I would not cry. I was a freaking vampire, damnit, and I was determined to start at least pretending to be one of the bad-ass heroines from some of my favorite novels. Okay, if I were a bad-ass, what would I do?
“Aly?” Tom reached out and lightly gripped my hand. “I know you’re overwhelmed right now. I’m sure once we’ve taken care of these jerks who are hunting you we’ll all be able to make the time to socialize a bit more normally.”
I bit my lip. His soothing concern was not helping my attempt to stiffen my spine a little.
“But you’re not a mooch,” he continued. “The other reason Damian wanted you over here was to see whether your gifts had any reaction to the plans he’s making. Trust me, you’ll earn your keep,” he said, smiling, though his words had the opposite effect on me. Attempting to harness a force I didn’t understand and still only half-believed wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I said I was used to pulling my own weight.
As if responding to my doubts, I felt a warmth flow across my shoulders. “I think Damian’s almost home,” I said.
“Okay, then you really need to finish a few more packs of blood now, because he’ll want to get started as soon as he gets here.”
I stiffened.
“Please Aly? You need them as much as any person who’d show up for a transfusion. I promise you Damian would never leave a bank or hospital running dangerously low. You’re putting all of us at risk by not drinking enough.”
“How?”
Tom scrunched his face up, rubbing his palm over it. “I’ll explain while you drink, okay?”
I nodded, as much giving in to my still-very-present hunger as his negotiating skills. I grabbed a pack and popped it, then gestured for him to continue.
“Okay, the vamp that attacked you initially—he’s one of Cesar’s.”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. I knew this already.
“Anyway, the vamp in the alley had been told simply to capture you and bring you to Cesar. But
I found him trailing you and we fought. He lost a lot of his blood reserve in that fight, making him half-starved, so when he saw you his hunger overrode Cesar’s orders. Usually vamps can’t disobey direct orders from their maker, but if the hunger is strong enough it overrides everything else.”
I’d finished my pack and was about to pop another, but I paused.
“I can resist you, though,” I said.
Tom stiffened, and looked away. “I appear to have only the barest sway over you, and only if you aren’t resisting. Damian thinks it’s because I never drank any of your blood since you were already drained by Cesar’s underling; he suspects your gifts may play a part in it too. That’s why it’s especially important you not be even slightly hungry—I can’t exercise any control over you to hold you back.”
I hurriedly drank the rest of the second pack.
“Is that enough, do you think?” I asked.
Tom nodded, opening his mouth to speak, and then we heard Damian’s car pull up the driveway. Within seconds Valerie and Sam were back in the kitchen, and a moment after that Damian walked in, Luis a step or two behind him. I winced when I saw Luis.
“Hey, um, sorry about last night” I said, giving him an apologetic look. “I hope your hangover wasn’t too bad when you woke up.”
Luis shrugged. “Better than a stake, I guess.” He grinned. “I should have known Tom would set you up with the liquid silver. No hard feelings.”
“Thanks.”
While we were speaking, Damian had been spreading out some papers across the expansive marble countertops. I glanced at them now, noting a few exterior photos of what looked like a decent-sized suburban home, and a few floor plans with various markings sketched onto them in pencil.
“Alright, Cesar is currently based out of Nashville, so the drive to get there shouldn’t take too long. I got Amelia to bring me these photos” he tapped the pile on one end of the counter “and the floor plans are provided courtesy of an old friend.” He smiled.
Damian then explained that the Duchess would prefer we keep our counter-attack as quiet as possible. She agreed Cesar had far overstepped his boundaries in sending servants into Damian and Valerie's home, but she’d also heard rumors that he was putting together a petition to legally claim me as part of his organization since it was his vassal who drained me. If the formal petition was filed it would require a hearing that could drag on for weeks, maybe longer.