Merrick

by Claire Cray

  “If you’ll let me.”

  He laughed under his breath and lifted the pitcher above his head, wetting his hair.

  I was getting used to the situation; meaning, the one that involved me lying passionately with another man each night. My embarrassment and anxiety had faded significantly, but I was still nervous and unsure of myself. Other than the day I’d climbed into the coffin with him, this was as close as I had yet come to making the first move.

  I rubbed the soapy cloth firmly against his muscles, following their lines and kneading them wherever they felt tight and stiff. He rewarded me with a sigh of pleasure. After he rinsed his hair, he turned around and took the cloth from my hand.

  That was somewhat disappointing. I had been working up the nerve to make it around to his front. Instead I found myself luxuriating in his touch again as he ran the cloth over my body from head to toe, lingering deliberately at certain points so that by the time he set the rag aside to close his bare hand around me for a slow, teasing stroke, I was already stiff and ready.

  Seeing my chance, I picked up the rag and began to sweep it over his bare chest.

  He caught my chin and lifted it to give me a soft kiss. Working his lips and tongue tenderly against mine as he slowly stroked me, he seemed relaxed beneath my hands until I ran the cloth below his navel.

  “No.” He gently caught my hand.

  “It’s only a bath,” I replied, my voice a little heavy with the heat of his touch. I thought I felt him smirk against my lips, but he slowly released my hand.

  I washed his hips and thighs, my heart beating still faster as I drew closer to the object of my curiosity. Then, on accident, my wrist brushed against it.

  Merrick’s breath caught, and he tensed.

  I couldn’t help it. I looked down.

  For God’s sake.

  The man was perfect to the last inch.

  Though I had craved seeing him like this, I hadn’t been sure how I would react. To my complete lack of surprise, I reacted the same way I always did where he was concerned: with desire.

  He drew a sharp breath when I ran my finger up the length, and he exhaled, shuddering, when I tentatively closed my hand around it. His hands came up to frame my face and he nearly kissed me, but held back.

  “Does it please you?” I asked, trying to do to him what he did to me, and what I liked to be done.

  “Too much.”

  I wanted to watch his face, but when our eyes met I looked down again nervously. My desire spiked when I saw his hand on me, and my hand on him. Mesmerized, I watched myself explore the shape of him, stroking the smooth skin, testing the firm thickness of it with both hands.

  He let go of me and took my hands from him suddenly, exhaling. Before I could think of something to say, he caught me around the waist and pulled me close. A small sound escaped my throat when I felt our still-dripping bodies pressed together, and he kissed me as if to swallow it.

  “Forgive me,” he breathed.

  “What’s the matter?” I felt him trembling slightly.

  He teased his lips against my cheek, kneading my back as he held me tight against him. Slowly, almost cautiously, he released me. “Go inside and wait for me.”

  Again I felt a twinge of disappointment, but I nodded and let him wrap the cloth around me before I carried my clothes back inside.

  I lay in the bed, restless and still aroused, and wandered through a few of the curious thoughts that had begun to spring up in my mind in the past week or so, ever since I had wondered if I’d ever be able to pleasure Merrick the way he pleasured me. Perhaps it was not possible for a vampire. Perhaps he was afraid he’d lose control and drain me completely.

  When Merrick returned in his breeches, he sat beside me and took my hand, lifting it to his lips and softly kissing my palm. I reached for him, encircling my arms around his neck as his lips moved along the inside of my arm until they reached my ear.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered. “My resolve falters.” He lowered his face to my neck and breathed in, then turned his face to my shoulder as his hand wandered down my body. “I am afraid even to kiss you.”

  I longed to satisfy him. But how could I say it? “I like it when you drink from me,” I murmured, shifting slowly beneath his gentle caresses. I felt him smile against my shoulder.

  “Yes,” he replied softly. “I know. But I like it even more.”

  “Is that what…” I bit my lips against a sudden moan, and then let out an unsteady breath. God, his hands! “…satisfies you?”

  “Your pleasure satisfies me.” His fingertips trailed over my face, and his lips brushed against mine. “Your breathless voice.” He smoothed my hair back, moving his lips over my brow. “The flush of your skin.”

  I groaned, moving against his hand. When had I lost my shame? But this was not the time to worry about it, not while his touch was lifting me to those spectacular heights, heights I had never reached before I knew his touch.

  “The way you tremble,” he breathed against my cheek. “Your swift pulse…”

  He wasn’t answering my question, but… My head fell back. I felt it building, about to snap, and combed my hands through his hair.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I found his luminous amber gaze locked on my face, and moments later the swell of tension broke and ecstasy poured through me until I lay limp and shuddering.

  He held me in his arms, tucking my head below his chin, until my body was calm. Then he kissed my forehead and slowly sat up.

  I could never watch as he cleaned up. It made my cheeks burn just thinking of my own release coating his hand.

  “I will be gone for a few hours,” Merrick said, pulling on a shirt.

  “Are you riding with Theo?” I asked, still curious and hoping for some clue about them. I had started to feel a bit sorry for Theo the night he’d left. After all, he had traveled all this way to save his friend, and he still lingered for Merrick’s sake despite having to endure his cold anger. The little pansy was totally out of his element in these muddy woods, and though I found his suffering more amusing than anything, I had to admit that his loyalty was admirable.

  “No.” Merrick pulled on a jacket.

  I had learned that he wore no robe when he rode at night to feed. I supposed it only made sense that he kept his two identities separate.

  But then, there were three identities, weren’t there? There was Doctor Merrick, the villagers’ kindly apothecary and physician. There was Silas the vampire, who roamed the roads at night hunting travelers and drinking their blood – disposing of their bodies, too, I guessed. And there was my Merrick, the gentle man who had been my master, was now my lover, and whose blood would eventually change me into a vampire.

  I had my own identity crisis, of course. For William Lacy, the clever, loquacious, and virile young book peddler from New York City had become William Lacy, the bewildered rural botany student and wanton lover of another man (who also happened to be a vampire).

  Damn. Quite a strange way to come of age…

  Merrick paused at the cave’s entrance and turned back to me. “We will be moving to the city,” he said.

  I sat up, surprised. “What?”

  “Closer to it.” He straightened his cuffs absently.

  This was unexpected.

  He looked up at me again, intently. “Does it please you?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Yes,” I said. “Though I will miss the wilds.”

  Yes, I was pleased, it seemed. Living in the city with Merrick? Why not? Then again, “Why?”

  He paused. “I am ready for a change.”

  “Well,” I said, “I’ve always liked a bit of change.”

  He gave me one of his warm, sudden smiles that made my heart melt. “Goodnight, William.”

  “Goodnight.” I watched him go.

  Chapter 30

  Old Jackman raised his bushy eyebrows when I entered the dusty shop.

  “William Lacy,” he drawled in his cr
eaky voice. “I thought they had thrown you back in stocks.”

  “I was never in stocks, sir.” I approached his counter and leaned upon it. “What have you got?”

  He grunted, turning to the stacks behind him, and brought three volumes to set on the counter before me. He fetched three more, and another three, before settling back into his chair.

  I felt a smile grow on my face. I breathed in the scent: the leather of the books, the dusty pages and the musty wood of the shelves. Then I set to inspecting the volumes.

  I left with two carefully wrapped tomes in my satchel.

  “Lacy!”

  I turned at the shout. Jeremy was stopped across the street, a startled look on his face. He jogged my way, dodging a carriage and a large group of ladies at lunch.

  “Good morning,” I greeted him. I was glad to see him, but unsure of what he’d think. I had disappeared so abruptly that month before.

  “Shit, Lacy!” Jeremy looked me over, bewildered. “Quite the vagabond you’ve become!”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “Been a strange couple of months.”

  “Back for good, or no?”

  “Back for now.”

  “Shit,” he said again.

  I frowned. He seemed troubled. “I’m back in one piece, my friend.”

  Jeremy nodded slowly, but he didn’t seem convinced. “Right. Well. That’s good.”

  “What’s the matter?” I demanded.

  “It’s just…” Jeremy ran a hand over his mess of brown hair. “Seemed strange, is all. There was strange talk.”

  “What strange talk?” I asked, nervous. “Come, let’s have a drink.”

  “I’m empty.”

  “My treat.”

  “If you insist.” Jeremy smiled, but then he looked worried again.

  In the tavern, we raised our mugs and had a bit of small talk before Jeremy began to explain.

  “There was this boy hanging around those last few days before you disappeared. Strange chap. Funny shade of hair, kind of a red, kind of a red coffee color. And fancy.”

  “Is that right?” I suppressed a cringe. Could Theo be more conspicuous?

  “Strangest eyes,” Jeremy said, his own eyes going distant at the memory. “Never seen such a shade of blue. It was like they glowed. I don’t know. somethin’ about him gave me a chill. Anyway, after you dropped off the earth, I went to see your poor mum. She was keepin’ calm, lovely woman she is. Lovely, lovely woman she is....”

  “Shut your hole.”

  Jeremy smiled a little. He’d always had a crush on my mum. “Well,” he continued. “Funny thing was, she thought you’d been missin’ since about a day before I last saw you. ‘Fore I could figure it out, she mentioned another friend of yours had been by out of worry, askin’ where you were,. Which friend, I says. She didn’t get his name, she says, but he was the one with the dark red hair and the beautiful blue eyes.”

  I was going to kill the rat bastard. My fingers were tight on my mug.

  “About a week after that, Billy Bogle stopped by the tavern. He said he saw a guy who looked just like you gettin’ mugged and tossed into a coach. Said there was a guy there who looked real rich, real fancy, with dark red hair.” Jeremy paused. “Next thing I know, your mum sends word you’ve gone back to that old man’s cottage on some kind of whim, and you’re safe and sound. A couple weeks later, here you are.” He squinted at me. “So what the bloody hell happened?”

  I wasn’t, unfortunately, ready with an explanation, and I could hardly come up with one on the spot with the war drums pounding in my ears. “It’s complicated,” I said dumbly.

  “Do you know the guy?”

  “No,” I lied impulsively. It seemed the proper thing to do. And Theo was going to wish I didn’t know him, once I got my hands on his pretty hair and ripped it out of his head. The thought of him on my mum’s doorstep! Filthy, blood-sucking…

  “Did you get mugged and thrown in a coach?”

  I shook my head, setting thoughts of Theo aside for the moment. “No.”

  Jeremy leaned back, frowning thoughtfully at his mug. “Huh,” he concluded. “Well, good.” He lifted his mug for a long swallow.

  Would I still be friends with Jeremy, once I turned into a vampire? I sneaked looks at his intelligent face, his large green eyes and slightly hawkish nose. In the past few months I’d often puzzled over the fact that I’d fallen so hard and fast for Merrick, but I’d never had such a thought about Jeremy. Love was funny.

  After a long and wonderful afternoon conversing with my old friend, we parted with warm goodbyes and I set off for uptown.

  As I walked, I thought of all the things I wished I could ask Merrick, but was too afraid to.

  Foremost in my mind was whether I’d have to leave my mum behind when I became a vampire. As far as I could tell, my appearance wouldn’t change much. I supposed my eyes would turn strange, like Merrick’s and Theo’s. And my skin might get prettier. That was all right. Mum wouldn’t mind all that, would she? I was thinking I could come up with some excuse for the eyes, maybe blame it on a medical condition.

  Then there was the killing. That was worrying me a fair amount. How often would I have to kill? Was it absolutely necessary? Could I not drink from cows, or sheep? If not, I supposed I would have to get used to it – but I dreaded it. I wanted to ask what it was like to take a life, if one got used to it, or if it felt natural once it was a matter of survival, perhaps.

  Sometimes when I thought about the whole thing too much, it stopped feeling real. For, truly, it was all a bit hard to swallow! I was to become an immortal? I was to live for centuries? I was to become like Merrick and Theo, those powerful, beautiful, otherworldly creatures who wandered the world drinking the blood of thousands upon thousands upon thousands?

  And one day, like Merrick, I was to fall into a deep despair and be compelled to choose a human to transform into a creature like me?

  How absurd it all was.

  But I could not simply share my worries with Merrick. I knew he was against the whole thing, and I was worried if I revealed my anxieties he would somehow find a way to skirt the deal we’d trapped him in, in some overblown effort to save my human life.

  Well, at least Theo and I had him under control for now.

  Theo. My blood began to boil. My mother’s house! That evil, vile snake. What if he had been hungry? I clenched my fists at the thought.

  But when I reached the door of the handsome wooden house, knowing Merrick was most likely inside, my anger faded into the background. It was always like that. Nothing brought a smile to my face like the thought of seeing Merrick.

  Most of the house was kept dark with heavy velvet drapes, but Merrick insisted upon keeping a few rooms on the North side light and airy for me to relax in. There was nothing ostentatious about the house, but it was fine and comfortable, and far enough removed from my own humble roots that I was still moved by the fine polished floors and the elegant upholstered furniture.

  I found Merrick in the upstairs study, writing at his desk. “Hello, William,” he said warmly, without turning.

  I crossed the room and took a seat in the chair near the window some feet from him, where I could see his face. The drapes were parted slightly to let in a sliver of the soft afternoon light. I peeked through the gap, looking down at the streets below. This far north, Manhattan was green and peaceful. Nothing like our neighborhood on the lower east end of the city, where the clamor of wheels and voices never stopped.

  Merrick caught my eyes and smiled before looking back at his page. “Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet.” I watched his hand move swiftly back and forth across the paper, enjoying the soft scratching of the quill.

  He nodded. “Lidiya will prepare something for you. How is your mother’s cooking, William?”

  “It’s heavenly.”

  He smiled again. At last he finished his letter and set his quill aside. He turned in his chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. �
��What did you pick up today?”

  I lifted my satchel and withdrew the two wrapped books, holding them out to him.

  He raised his eyebrows, taking them. “May I?” At my nod, he set them upon the desk and untied the twine from one. Once he’d lifted it from the wrapping paper and taken in the cover, he looked at me. “Why did you choose this one?”

  I blinked at him for a moment before I realized he was not questioning my judgment, but asking out of interest. Surprised, I stood up and went to his side, putting my arm on the back of his chair and leaning over him to point out the special details of the book. “This is a first edition,” I said. “See? It’s very rare, because the first copies caused uproar and publication was stopped. Some of these rhymes were deemed unfit for children…”

  He listened and asked questions, letting me explain all the details I’d considered in acquiring the volume and how I’d negotiated the price. It warmed my heart with pride to hear his interest and to share with him something I knew well.

  When I had wrapped the book back up, he pulled me down and softly kissed my lips. “Are you pleased to be back in the city?” he murmured.

  “I’m pleased you are with me,” I replied. I gazed upon his handsome face for a moment. “Are you well, sir?”

  He smiled slightly, as he always did when I called him that. It had proved so difficult to break the habit that I had given up and told him to take it as a nickname. “Yes,” he said. “It is easier here.”

  I nodded. It was impossible for me to understand the temptation he struggled with, particularly since I could not quite imagine that my blood was quite so tempting. But I had put a few things together regarding the move to the city. Most telling was the fact that his eyes seemed brighter than ever, and his face held more color. I could only assume he was drinking much more often than he had ever been able to in that forest cottage, and I imagined it contributed to how comparatively relaxed he seemed now with me. I tried not to imagine who he was killing.

  After dinner, Merrick went out for a spell. I lingered in the house for awhile, reading, and then left for a walk.

  “You’ve certainly lasted longer than I expected.”