by Lee, Rachel
“Well, don’t admire me. I’m not admirable.”
“And I disagree.”
She watched something in his face change, but she couldn’t read what was going on. If anything, he seemed to become more inscrutable. “What makes your eyes change?” she asked impulsively.
“My mood. Whether I’ve fed. If I get too hungry, too intense, too angry, my eyes tend to darken.” He shrugged. “Call it my emotional barometer. See, now you have a way to read me, too.”
“I like that.” And she did. Reading him seemed to have become one of her major preoccupations.
“Just keep in mind,” he said quietly, “that when my eyes are dark, I’m much more dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m walking the edge between impulse and restraint. The very edge.”
She absorbed that, taking it in and accepting it. “So it would be easier to tip the wrong way?”
“Infinitely easier. And everything inside me is pushing me to react to my basest urges.”
“Maybe not all of them are base,” she said quietly. “Maybe some of them are essential.”
Creed slipped out onto the terrace to escape her scent again. Just for a few minutes. But it was getting hard, so hard, to control his desire for her. She had a view of things that he was tempted to call naive, but even as he wanted to dismiss her thoughts that way he knew what the real difference was: Yvonne was still hopeful. For himself he’d given up on those hopes a long time ago.
And that didn’t make him feel very proud of himself.
He’d defined himself in the worst ways possible, never admitting the possibility that he might not be a monster. He had essentially hidden away from the world for a century because he feared what he had become during his change.
He’d found his way into an ivory tower of isolation where controlling his needs had been comparatively easy, and he’d never once considered that he had gifts that might be useful toward good ends.
He’d become a monk, and remembering what Yvonne had earlier said about monks having it easier than he did, he knew she was wrong. He’d made it as easy as possible on himself, hiding away, exposing himself to no test, nor any real possibility of a test.
He was, it seemed, afraid of failing. Terrified of failing. Unlike most, he knew what his failures could mean for others, but that still didn’t excuse him for being a moral coward. He had told himself he was taking the high ground, sparing others the risk.
Instead he’d been sparing himself, probably more than anyone else.
Given what Yvonne had just offered to do, his own cowardice had never been clearer. Oh, he would die to protect her. He just didn’t want to have to deal with the day-to-day temptations his Hunger awoke in him.
And dying, he admitted to himself, would be the easier task by far.
He sighed, then drew in a deep breath of the night air. He could smell the humans all around, hear their night sounds, their lovemaking. He could hear the cries of infants and the shouts of arguing couples. He could see all the colors of the rainbow in the night sky above, clouded though it was with light and pollution. He could feel the life of the city throbbing around him as if it were his own pulse beat.
Why did he deny himself so much? Why was he so certain he lacked control? Over these days with Yvonne he had certainly proved he had enough control.
He heard the door slide open behind him, caught the intoxicating fresh scent of her.
“Am I bothering you?” she asked quietly.
“No. Not at all.”
She came closer, and he turned, reaching out with an arm to draw her close to his side.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, actually.” He gave her a gentle squeeze, the gentlest he could manage, aware that it would be far too easy to crush her. “I was just having an epiphany.”
“About what? If you don’t mind me asking.”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “You got me to thinking. You know Jude, you see what he’s done with his existence since his change.”
“Well, a little, yes.”
“I took an entirely different route. Instead of engaging and finding a way to use my change to benefit others, I chose instead to hide away from all the temptation. I became that monk you were talking about.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“You may not have meant it to be about me, but you didn’t know me before we met. I chose to hide, to simplify my life so that it wasn’t a constant struggle against my instincts. I thought it was wise. Now I think it was selfish.”
She tilted her head to better look at him, and he felt her arm slip around his waist and give him a squeeze. “You did what you thought best, and while I may not know much about your change, I suspect from what you said that it was a major trauma.”
“Perhaps. But it’s time for this vampire to grow up.”
“What? You’re already grown up.”
“Not as grown up as I could be. I avoid the tests that this life gives me.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” He moved swiftly, lowering his head until his mouth touched her throat. He licked her skin gently and listened to her draw a sharp breath of pleasure.
“Creed?”
“I can drink from you without harming you. I can love you without harming you. I can be around you without harming you. The only question is whether I’m willing to practice the restraint required.”
He heard her heart skip, and the sound made him smile to himself. He licked her throat again and felt the shiver that ran through her.
“No,” she said, on a mere wisp of breath, “there’s another question.”
“What’s that?”
“Am I worth it for you to have to practice such restraint?”
“And,” he added gently, “am I worth it to you to put up with all this crap I call a life?”
She drew a breath as if she would answer, but he laid a quick finger over her lips. “It’s too soon,” he said huskily. “Too soon to answer such questions. Especially when we face this threat.”
He felt the resistance in her, but he was sure he was right about this one. She was dependent on him right now, much as she hated it, and it could affect her decisions. She had to be free to come and go as she chose before he could trust anything she might feel. Before she could trust herself.
Until then…
Until then there were some pleasures that could be safely taken, that had already been offered. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her back inside and sat on the couch with her on his lap.
“I like it when you carry me,” she murmured, and there was that maddening blush again, making his pulse pound in his ears. “I never thought I’d like that.”
“You’re as light as feather down to me,” he muttered, “and so much more delightful.”
Seeing a reflection of his own hunger in her gaze, he tugged the neck of her shirt to one side and nosed around until he found a suitable vein. Then he licked her gently, numbing her, and extended his fangs, plunging them carefully into her. Just enough to taste, not enough to do harm.
At once she arched and moaned, and the incredible magic of vampire and victim began, leading them both along a path that was probably as close to heaven as he would ever know.
Chapter 11
“You may not want to build a temple,” Avi Herschel said as he walked into Creed’s condo the next evening, “but it may be the only way to skin the cat.”
Creed stood to one side as Avi passed, then closed the door. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.”
Creed stood looking at him, then slowly nodded.
Yvonne, emerging from the bedroom, freshly showered, looked at the two of them. “He knows what?”
Creed turned to her. “Asmodai can’t remove the Tetragrammaton himself.”
“Precisely!” Avi beamed. Then he reached into a pocket and pulled out a large, flat wooden case. “This has history, my friend. I hate to
part with it, but in the interests of saving your lady and keeping that demon bound…” He shrugged.
Yvonne hurried over in time to see Creed open the case and reveal a blackened chain loop with four strange characters woven into it. “Is that…?” She hardly dared say it.
“It is,” said Avi. “Note that the characters are paleo-Hebrew. No one has written that since at least the first century, and I’ve had this much longer than that. I’ve kept it all these millennia in case. I guess this is in case, yes?”
“But how did it come off of him?” Creed asked. “If he can’t remove it himself?”
“He cajoled one of his many concubines into doing it. However, since you plan to use it to send him back, he may not find it quite so easy to persuade someone in his own realm to remove it. You read the book I gave you?”
“Yes. It has even more power over his kind than us.”
“So, it is safe to assume they, whoever they are, will not be quick to want to touch it. At least I hope not. If you remove it from one, it might be used to bind another. You see the conundrum his kind will face?”
Creed was nodding as he held up the roughly made necklace, turning it in the dim light. “Avi, to touch something this old, something that I always thought was myth…”
“I know, my friend. Just promise to use it wisely.”
“I will.”
“I would not give it to you otherwise. Now I return to my books. If I learn anything new, I will tell you.”
Avi vanished instantly, the only mark of his passing the sound of the door closing and locking. Yvonne was fascinated by the necklace, and reached out to touch it with one finger.
“How old is this?” she asked.
“Can’t be sure, but my guess is about three thousand years. Historians estimate that to be the approximate time the First Temple was built.”
“I can’t imagine,” she breathed.
He lowered the necklace back into the box but didn’t close the lid. There was something almost reverential in his handling of it. “I’m a historian,” he remarked. “I’ve handled a lot of old things, especially since I move among vampires and a lot of us are very, very old. But nothing like this, ever. And its mere existence gives proof to myths that have persisted for millennia. This is…amazing.”
“I agree.” Once again she reached out to touch it with a fingertip.
“And now I have headache,” he remarked wryly.
“What’s that?”
“I must guard this necklace as closely as I guard you. If someone else were to get it…” He left the thought incomplete, simply shaking his head again. “Maybe I should just wear it.”
“But what might it do to you?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea.”
She grabbed his forearm. “Then don’t even consider it,” she begged. “It goes on one being, and one only. Maybe I should wear it.”
“Then he’d never get close to you, that’s for sure.”
“And we’ll never get rid of him. He’ll just go elsewhere. You know that, Creed. We have to do this, and I have to call Tommy.”
When he turned his head to look directly at her, she saw his eyes were black.
“Creed?”
“You’ve changed.”
She felt taken aback for a few seconds, then understanding dawned. “No, I haven’t. You’re meeting the real me, Creed. I was just overwhelmed and confused at first. But I’ve never been a coward, and now that I’m starting to understand, and to see the path we have to take, I’m not afraid to take it. That’s the way I’ve always been, whether you believe it or not.”
One corner of his mouth lifted slowly. “I believe you. But a little fear is often a useful survival tool. Don’t lose it all.”
“I’m in no danger of that.”
“Interesting,” he murmured, looking at the box again.
“What is?”
“Religious scholars have debated for a long, long time whether Asmodai is a tool used to teach lessons. And look at the two of us. I’m emerging from nearly a century of stasis and you…well, you’re prepared to face the unknown no matter what it holds rather than let Asmodai try his wiles elsewhere. Are we both growing from this? I know I am. I’m finding something more important than my desire for solitude and peace.”
She nodded. “I think I’m learning, too. At some level I’ve lived in the world of my imagination. I look back at my relationship with Tommy, which I thought was me learning to live a real life, and what I see was that I was living in yet another world of my creating until he dashed all my fantasies.”
He turned to face her. “And now?”
“Now I think I’m ready to take on life. And maybe death. But I’m not retreating into my safe little world this time.”
He nodded. “Same here. And these are questions that we’ll never get answered. We just have to soldier on. The grander scheme is seldom revealed to us.”
His phone beeped and he pulled it out, quickly scanning a text message. “Jude is on his way. Can Luc be far behind?” He almost sighed.
“You think Luc is watching everything?”
“Probably. He’s agreed to cooperate, but that doesn’t mean he trusts us not to leave him out.”
“I don’t think I like him. But evidently you did once?”
“He was all right. I think I mentioned we cooperated on a problem, one of the few times I broke my self-imposed isolation over the years.”
She gave him a small smile. “So you haven’t always remained in your ivory tower?”
“Sometimes you just can’t. Too much is at stake.”
She sighed, touched the rough wooden box again, then sank onto the couch. “I’ve never had that kind of stake in anything in my life. I’m starting to feel very selfish.”
“Why so?” He placed the box on the end table and sat beside her.
“Well, I’ve avoided involvement in a lot of ways. I think the biggest risk I ever took was submitting my first manuscript to a publisher. That turned out not to be such an awful risk at all because I didn’t get the raft of rejection letters most new writers get. I didn’t even get one. I was twenty-six and published. That’s rare. And it gave me an excuse to bury myself even deeper.”
“Sounds like me.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not like you at all. You had a life before your change. A wife, five children, you were teaching. You got a lot more involved than I ever have. Me, I had to have a demon come after me to wake me up.”
An almost gentle laugh escaped him. “Sleeping Beauty?”
“Hardly.” She sighed. “Regardless of how I got there, I was well on my way to becoming a hermit. And I liked it. I’ve always been an introvert. I think what attracted me to Tommy was that he sparkled. Or seemed to at first. I was flattered when he noticed me, yes, but it was more than that. For a little while he filled out my life. For a little while I was doing all the things I’d avoided before. I was getting out in the world because he’d take me. To clubs, to movies, to parties. It was very different, and it was heady. For a while.”
“I can understand that.”
“Anyway, who I was then doesn’t matter now. Now all that matters is Asmodai and making sure he doesn’t hurt someone. And I’m being serious, Creed. Now that I’ve gotten over the shock and confusion, I know one thing for certain, and it’s that this ceremony can’t be allowed to happen. You said something about a sacrifice. Some poor person is going to be killed to further Tommy’s ambitions? I don’t think so.”
“We’re in definite agreement on that.”
Before they could say any more, there was a tapping at the terrace sliding glass doors. Jude stood out there. Apparently, Yvonne thought, since he was unencumbered by humans, he’d arrived by a less traditional route. Part of her wondered just how neat it must be to do things like that.
Creed let him in. Jude seemed to emanate cold, probably from the chilly night. Of course, Yvonne thought, these vampires didn’t make a whole lot of heat of their own.
After greeting them both, Jude leaned back against the dining table, crossed his legs at the ankle, and folded his arms. “I told Luc to meet us here in about half an hour. If he’s watching, as I suspect he is, he’ll probably arrive any minute to be sure he isn’t missing something. As for Garner, he came up with a bit. Tommy called him earlier. Seems he wants to meet with Garner the day after tomorrow if his deal falls through.”