Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist)

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Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) Page 5

by Hilburn, Lynda


  Devereux tapped my shoulder. I turned to him and momentarily wondered if watching the feeding had made him hungry.

  “I have asked Anne, an old acquaintance, to help watch over you in case I must deal with unexpected business,” he said.

  An old acquaintance? A female old acquaintance? Hmm …

  “Unexpected business?” I set my empty plate on an antique side table probably worth more than my house and car together. “Are you planning to work tonight? I thought this was supposed to be time for us to be together. Isn’t this a wedding?” I tensed, and my heart stumbled. Oh my God! He’s going to leave me alone in a den of bloodsuckers!

  “Yes.” He stroked a finger down my cheek, undoubtedly having heard the blip in my heartbeat. “It is a ceremony, which will begin soon. But when many master vampires are together in one place, often a little business must be transacted. You will be completely safe,” he continued. “I asked Anne to stay near you to fend off overzealous suitors and to entertain you with her outrageous personality. I trust her—she is old and strong. As a matter of fact, she might also interest you from a therapeutic point of view, since she is quite self-absorbed. I believe you would diagnose Anne with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, at the very least.”

  He’d obviously brought up a comfortable topic to soothe me.

  Forcing myself to focus on his words instead of my dark imaginings, I said, “You’ve been reading the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders again.” He was such a sponge for knowledge.

  “Yes.” He draped his arm around my shoulders and guided us to a full-size statue of a knight in armor—it really was shining—riding a horse on the other side of the room. “I enjoy learning new things, and the realm of the mind is especially fascinating. Narcissism, in particular, is prevalent among vampires, as you will no doubt discover in your professional work. And, of course, I wish to know more about whatever interests you.”

  “Self-absorbed?” I snorted. “Vampires? Gee, I hadn’t noticed. Are you saying that also applies to you?”

  He flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture and grinned. “Of course not. I am self-aware, which is an entirely different thing.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said solemnly. “We’ll pretend that’s true. So, you’re sticking me with a chaperone who can’t talk about anything but herself? What a pal. It’s every therapist’s dream to be saddled with the client from hell. I’m really jazzed to attend this party now.” I put a serious expression on my face. “I’d appreciate it if you’d try very hard not to leave me with anyone for long. Surely business can wait.”

  He pulled me close. “I will make every effort to remain by your side, but it has been my experience that vampire business often forces itself upon me at the most inopportune times. Just in case, allow me to contact Anne so I might introduce you.” He paused for a few seconds. “Ah, yes. There she is.”

  As I turned to look for my undead babysitter, my attention snagged on a man dressed in a filthy ankle-length baggy garment. He was running back and forth across the room holding a huge knife dripping blood. His face was contorted with rage, and he appeared to be chasing someone.

  What the hell? Was he one of the donors, gone berserk? Or part of the entertainment?

  My breath caught as he crashed directly into a large group of partiers who were chatting in small circles in the center of the crowded space.

  Chapter 4

  Waiting for the vampires to react to the man, for the screams and outrage—for the carnage—I steeled myself … but nobody noticed him. I blinked to make sure I’d seen the maniac, and there he still was, zigzagging through the crowd.

  “Do you see that guy with the knife?” I asked Devereux, the pitch of my voice rising as I frantically tapped him on the chest.

  “A guy with a knife? Where?” On full alert, he turned his head from side to side, his voice saturated with menace. Coiled power, ready to spring.

  “There!” I gasped and pointed to the corner, where the frenzied man tackled and straddled a woman dressed in the same kind of dirty, loose-fitting nightgown he was wearing. He repeatedly stabbed her, the bloody knife slicing through her chest with a wet, sickening sound. My stomach lurched. “You have to stop him. The knife! He’s killing her!” I grabbed Devereux’s arm.

  The woman’s screams pierced the air, soaring easily over the Celtic music wafting from the kilted ensemble performing on a raised stage in an adjacent room.

  “What man? I do not see anyone,” Devereux said fiercely as he searched the area. “And I do not smell spilled blood. Where is this attack? Take me there.”

  Was he kidding? It wasn’t like Devereux to be so insensitive. To refuse to help. How could he not see the man’s crazed assault?

  I tugged on Devereux’s arm, pulling him toward the bloody scene. “They’re over here. You have to—” I stopped. As I stared at the murder unfolding before my eyes, I suddenly noticed that the man and his victim were superimposed on top of the group of vampires standing in the same spot.

  Ghosts. Specters only I could see. Great. But they looked so solid! Not wispy in the least. Almost as if I could reach out and touch them.

  “Something is wrong,” Devereux whispered urgently as he turned toward me and grasped my upper arms. “Your heart is pounding like a trapped animal. Your skin is hot. Fear emanates from you. I do not know how to help. I simply do not see the man to whom you are referring.”

  “What?” I shifted my focus from the vision and met Devereux’s concerned eyes.

  He was staring at me, confused, worried. “Perhaps I should not have brought you to such an intense place so soon. You were not ready. The energy has overwhelmed you.”

  I can’t argue with that.

  I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to relax. After my heart rate calmed, I pressed my palm against his cheek. “Sorry about that. You’re right. Everything about vampires is intense and I might never be totally equipped to deal with the madness. But right now it isn’t this place—it’s me, my weirdness.”

  His brows contracted into a V. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought it was real.” I peeked once more at the ghostly scene before looking back at Devereux. “The murder. The blood. You said this place is haunted. I guess I get to witness ghosts all evening in addition to every other outrageous thing that happens at a vampire wedding.”

  “Ah.” Understanding lit his face like a child’s, all distress gone. “Ghosts. You are seeing more incorporeal echoes from the past. Such a rare and wonderful gift. Extraordinary.”

  Extraordinary? Try extraordinarily weird. And exhausting. I rubbed my arms to get rid of the goosebumps.

  “Will you show me?” Devereux asked.

  “Show you what?”

  “The ghost. Picture the man with the knife and his victim in your mind—let me see how they appear to you.”

  “Why couldn’t you see them in my mind before?”

  “I did not look there—you asked me not to intrude. I thought something had happened in the room that I could not see. And besides, like everyone else I can only give my attention to one thing at a time.”

  “Okay, I guess that makes sense. Tune in. I’ll show you.” I shifted my attention back to the butchery in the corner, dissecting every detail. The vision replayed like a repeating tape loop.

  “Yes, I see,” he said eagerly after a few seconds. “That must be the notorious tormented mortal killer. I am sorry you must witness such a miserable thing, and yet even you must admit you have admirable talents. But for now …” He closed the distance between us. “Let me distract you from the gruesome sideshow.” He pressed his lips to mine, and the room disappeared.

  I sank into the blissful softness of his lips and mindlessly wrapped my calf around his. He did always manage to rouse my hormones.

  “Devereux, you naughty boy,” said a smoky female voice. “You call me over, and then you make me wait while you play with your human.”

  The sound snapped me out of my
lust-trance and I jerked back, startled by the proximity of the woman who was standing much too close. A quick jab of pain behind my right eye radiated through my skull-bones, and my vision clouded. I took a couple of steps back to reclaim my personal space. She had to be old, because in my experience, the older the vampire, the less the social niceties matter.

  The woman was petite, no more than five feet tall, wearing a low-cut burgundy gown displaying her ample assets to good advantage. Thick light-brown hair spilled over her shoulders. Her green eyes sparkled impishly in her pale face, and a wide smile spread her full lips.

  “Anne,” Devereux said, “it is good to see you. It has been too long.” He kissed her on both cheeks, then took her hands briefly. “Let me introduce you to Kismet.”

  “Well, well.” She turned to me, one eyebrow raised. “I have heard about you. The mortal who has captured the mighty Devereux.” She closed the still-too-slight distance between us and inhaled deeply. “Oh my—she does smell delicious. I do hope you intend to share, my friend.”

  Despite the lingering brain-fuzzing effects of Devereux’s preternatural kiss, the hairs on my arms rose and my throat tightened. This vampire wasn’t even pretending I wasn’t food. I was sure every bloodsucker in the room sensed the spike of fear that burst off of me.

  And, to prove it, hundreds of eyes turned in my direction.

  A ghostly slaying and a hungry predator. Are we having fun yet?

  “You know better than that, Anne. Behave yourself,” Devereux said, an edge sharpening his voice as he moved to stand at my side with his arm around my waist.

  He kissed the top of my head, then looked around coolly at those staring, and all the gazes shifted away from me. Saved by the Grand Pooh-Bah Vampire.

  “Oh yes.” Her laugh was a little hysterical-sounding. “That was excellent, Devereux. Warning off the entire herd of them all at once. You certainly haven’t lost your touch.” Anne gave an unabashed grin. “I’m only teasing. I didn’t mean to scare her. You’re always so serious, my lad. I just wanted to get a rise out of you. She is lovely.”

  “Yes, she is,” he said, his tone taking no prisoners.

  “And feisty, too, I hear. A sword-wielding avenger. Bravo, Devereux. It’s about time you took a mate.”

  “Please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” I said, exasperation allowing me to finally form coherent words. I looked back and forth between them, blinking to clear my hazy vision. “It’s very rude.” That sounded brave, didn’t it? Now if only my hands would stop shaking. … Why did I keep believing Devereux when he insisted I’d be safe in these bizarre situations? Seriously, how much preternatural terror could my mind handle?

  “I apologize, my love.”

  “Devereux!” said a smooth English-accented male voice behind me. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you to arrive. And how marvelous—you’ve brought your woman.”

  Devereux turned us toward the speaker. “Valentino, allow me to introduce Doctor Kismet Knight. The very same Kismet whose arrival I foretold eight hundred years ago with my painting.”

  Shit on a stick. The pain in my temples throbbed. I swallowed hard and tried to speak, without success. It really was him. With an English accent. And fangs.

  A vampire movie star knows about Devereux’s portrait of me? How the hell am I supposed to respond to such lunacy?

  I stared at his teeth and played with the antique cross around my neck—not because I thought it would ward off an undead actor, but because it gave me something to do with my hands.

  “Oh, the fangs. Forgive me,” Valentino said, making excellent eye contact while gliding his tongue over his pointed teeth.

  I shifted my eyes to stare at his nose. According to the strong tingle in my midsection, Valentino was a very powerful vampire, and I was having enough trouble staying focused as it was.

  “I just ate and forgot to retract the buggers,” he said. The sharp incisors vanished into his gums. His famous dimples appeared. “There. Much more politically correct.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back. “I can’t believe this elusive bachelor is finally making a commitment.” Raising a brow, his lips spread into a wicked grin. “You simply must tell me how you managed it. Some of us have had a bet going for eons.”

  I cleared my throat and finally managed to say, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

  He’s much better looking in the flesh … such as it is.

  He laughed heartily. “I’ll bet it’s damn strange to meet me, since you didn’t know about my true nature. And I’m sure our tight-lipped Devereux never said a word until tonight. No wonder you’re a bit tongue-tied.”

  Several of Valentino’s doubles crowded in behind him, smiling and drinking champagne. One who looked like the long-haired sex object from Thelma and Louise stood next to an older Inglourious Basterds version. They raised their glasses in salute. I nodded politely.

  Just when I thought I’d seen everything … There are obviously no limitations on the creepy scale.

  Devereux tightened his hold around my waist, reclaiming my attention. “Kismet is remarkably resilient. She has a marvelous ability to acclimate to our preternatural world.”

  I kept the strained pseudo-smile on my face, feeling like the only exhibit in an alien zoo. Acclimate? Was he referring to the fact that I didn’t run screaming every time I thought about it?

  I studied Valentino’s face. He looked much younger than he had in the last few movie roles I’d seen, about the age he was when he played Louis in that hit movie. I’d loved that film.

  “It doesn’t take a vampire to know what you’re thinking,” Valentino said. “Yes, I was able to play myself as I actually appear in that movie.” He laughed. “In fact, I scared the blood out of the fellow who played the reporter when I spent an evening with him, giving him an up-close-and-personal experience of having one’s neck sucked. No wonder his performance was so good.”

  Geez. Devereux was right about vampire humor being bloody. I’ll never get used to this.

  Valentino cocked his head as if listening to something I couldn’t hear. “You’ll have to forgive me again, dear Kismet—my wife just reminded me that we require Devereux’s presence for a moment. I trust Anne will keep you amused while he takes care of a little coven business?” He turned to Devereux. “De Sade is acting up again.”

  “The marquis is here? Will he never learn?”

  “He’s demanding to see you. He says he’s heard the rumors and wants to see for himself if you’re still the mighty warrior you used to be. I told him—”

  “Let us not discuss that here,” Devereux interrupted, his tone brusque.

  Valentino looked at me. “Ah, yes, of course.”

  “What’s going on? What rumors?” I asked. The Marquis de Sade? Really?

  Devereux shifted his gaze to me and pressed his soft lips to mine in a quick kiss. “Nothing important, but if I do not handle de Sade now, I will be forced to clean up a mess later. The marquis has a bad habit of drawing human attention to us. I will return as quickly as possible.” He brushed his fingers across the pentagram and the diamond cross before tracing my collarbone. “In the meantime, you are completely safe with Anne. And if you need me, just hold the cross in your hand and say my name.”

  Before I could respond, Devereux and Valentino vanished.

  I turned to Anne, who exposed her teeth at me with her fangs fully extended. I gasped. Such long fangs for such a tiny woman.

  She laughed at my startled reaction. “I’m sorry.” Her fangs retracted into her gums. “Just couldn’t resist. I hardly ever get the chance to frighten a human these days.”

  I blew out a breath, calming myself, and grasped the cross again. “I see.” No, I don’t. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that. I don’t know if you can understand, but it’s extremely strange trying to fit into a world so different from my own. It’s been a pretty steep learning curve, and mostly I’m just trying not to have a hea
rt attack.”

  As Devereux had so blithely abandoned me to the asylum inmates, what else could I do but use my therapy skills? Provide a little personal disclosure to create a bond? Noticing my headache had increased, I pressed my temples with my index fingers, trying to remember which meridians in Chinese medicine helped with pain relief. Maybe a migraine was being triggered by the strong incense.

  Of course, she’d probably prefer I open a vein.

  A fangless smile curved her lips. “No open veins required. I actually do understand—there were many times when I lived as a swan among ducks. In fact, during my most notorious life experience, I was executed for being different.” She paused and pointed at the donors. “Let’s go and sit near the humans and you can have some champagne while we chat. At least I can watch you enjoy it. A good glass of wine might be the only thing I truly miss about being mortal. You know,” she pointed at my head, “you really should take something for that headache. Everyone in the room can read your pain, and it’s rather enticing to the undead.”

  “Really? Everyone can sense it?”

  “Well, not everyone, but certainly those of us who are accustomed to reading victims’—er, mortals’ energy.”

  Victims?

  “I don’t have any pain medication with me.”

  “Pity.” She gave a half-smile. “I suspect our host doesn’t have a well-stocked medicine cabinet.”

  “Why didn’t Devereux notice I wasn’t feeling well? He’s usually very perceptive.”

  “Probably because he never kept humans close before he met you. He likely doesn’t even remember what a headache feels like since we don’t experience them, or how one might incapacitate you.”

 

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