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

by Hilburn, Lynda

  “No. Tomorrow night is soon enough.”

  We sat in awkward silence for a couple of minutes, each of us looking at anything but the other. I took advantage of the time to practice the hum.

  I couldn’t remember ever sensing discomfort from Devereux. I was pretty sure he had no idea I could read his emotions so much more clearly than before I drank the ancient vampire cocktail. I looked at him, deciding on full disclosure. “Do you know what effects drinking the elders’ blood had on me? Did Zephyr tell you?”

  Surprise flashed across his face, so fast I barely caught it, and the unease radiating from him increased. He met my eyes. “He said they did not know exactly what consequences would come from you ingesting such powerful old blood, but he suspected all your abilities would expand over time. He also explained that the blood would keep any vampire, including me, from reading you, the exception being when you are in a high state of emotional arousal. He suggested that I help you remain as calm as possible in my presence, so that your brain is not affected. Why do you ask?” A muscle in his face jumped ever so slightly.

  Why does this topic make him nervous?

  “I was wondering if he told you about the likelihood that I’ll now be able to sense vampire emotions. Previously, that skill only worked with humans.”

  “No.” He erased all expression from his face. “He did not mention that.” He looked away.

  What the hell? For some reason this discussion is distressing for him.

  I rested my hand on his arm. “What’s wrong, Devereux? Apparently I can sense your emotions, because I know this topic upsets you, no matter how much you try to disguise it.”

  He didn’t answer for a couple of minutes, then he looked at me, tapping his finger against his leg.

  Is he actually fidgeting? I’ve never seen him show anxiety before.

  “There are not many vampires who can read my thoughts unless I wish them to, and I am not aware of anyone who possesses keen enough empathic skills to be able to know my feelings—beyond the normal ways of accessing that information through facial expression, body language, words, et cetera.”

  Where is he going with this? He’s not acting like his usual self.

  “Okay. You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.”

  He frowned. “I feared something like this might happen.”

  “Feared”? Since when does he fear anything? “What do you mean?”

  “If you can sense my emotions whether I allow it or not, you can use that information against me. You will know when my defenses are assailable.” He looked away and went very still.

  “Wait!” I interrupted, clutching his arm. My stomach knotted. I felt like I’d been socked in the gut. Did he really trust me so little? “What are you saying?”

  “I have learned never to make myself totally vulnerable to another individual.” He brought his eyes back to mine. “This ability you have gives you too much power. I will have to trust you to an extraordinary degree, and I have never done such a thing.”

  “Too much power? How in the world could I use your emotions against you? They’re just fleeting feelings, like clouds floating across the sky. I don’t understand. Do you think I would hurt you?”

  “Not on purpose.”

  “I don’t understand. I’ve never heard you worry about someone having power over you.”

  He raised a shoulder. “Of course not. In the past, if someone threatened me, I merely killed them.”

  I swallowed. “You killed them?” I really didn’t want to hear that I was in a new category for him.

  “Yes. And since I do not wish to kill you, it is a dilemma.”

  “I’m a dilemma?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m glad you don’t want to kill me.” Am I really having this conversation?

  “But the fact remains that one of my enemies—and some of them are very impressive—could compel you to share what you know about me, giving them an edge. I suddenly feel unsafe for the first time in ages.”

  Oh my God. He’s a vampire and he doesn’t feel safe with me.

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stared at him for a while before trying to explain. “I’m used to sensing feelings—it’s something I’ve been able to do my whole life. It’s part of what makes me a good psychologist, so being able to sense vampires will help me in counseling my special clientele. But even before this ability expanded, I was getting better at reading you. I haven’t known you very long, but you’ve shared a lot of yourself with me, and I was starting to recognize many of your mood states. The only difference now is that rather than having to speculate about what specific emotion you might be feeling, I know.”

  “I did not realize how vulnerable I had already become to you. Perhaps you are right. Maybe nothing is different.” He looked hopeful.

  The tight muscles in my neck and shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t noticed how tense I’d been. “That’s what I’m telling you.”

  “But I must admit I find our situation disturbing. Before you took on the elders’ protection for your brain, I knew your thoughts. I felt in control. Now I do not.” An edge of anger infiltrated his words, and he scowled. “And on top of that, now you have the advantage. I am at a loss to know how I feel about this. Perhaps I should ask you how I feel about this, since I do not know?”

  Okay, a little healthy anger is a good thing.

  “I don’t blame you for being upset, and I know you’ll acclimate.” I repeated the same word he had used—it seemed like weeks ago—when he was talking about me and his vampire intensity. “You’ll see that nothing important is different.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  I had to grin. He was so out of his comfort zone. If he were a client, I’d be very happy about this development because it meant he was ready to explore unknown territory. But I didn’t think an eight-hundred-year-old master vampire would really like the idea of change much. I pretend-genuflected. “You’re still the almighty vampire king of the universe.”

  The corner of his lip tugged up until a full, brilliant smile blossomed. “Well, as long as we are in complete understanding about that.”

  We lapsed into silence again. This was, without a doubt, the most awkwardly uncomfortable time Devereux and I had ever spent together. It was my turn to fidget. I played with my hair and stared at the floor. The rules had changed. Neither one of us knew what was going on, and until we figured out our new roles in our relationship—or whatever it was we were having—we’d feel insecure.

  I felt sad that things had become so strange between us, because I really did care about him, vampire insanity and all. I guess I hadn’t let myself think about how much I wanted us to work out our issues.

  He cleared his throat and stood. “I imagine you are tired and would like some time to yourself. I will go.”

  I held out my hand for him to pull me up, and when he did, my robe, clearly acting out my unconscious desires, came untied and draped open. I started to close it, to cover myself, but then chose not to. “Don’t go.” I suddenly felt shy with him, but wanted to take the risk of reaching out. I took a deep breath and threw back my shoulders, momentarily afraid he’d choose to leave.

  His mesmerizing eyes tracked down my body. “Are you sure?”

  Relieved, my nipples hardened and my hormones, dressed in cheerleader costumes, formed a conga line and began calling out the letters of Devereux’s name, flailing their pom-poms across the landscape of my mind. My libido did a backflip. Apparently I was sure.

  “Yes.” Warmth radiated up my body. “All I’ve done is sleep for the past seven days. I’m not tired at all.” I took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Besides, I’ve missed you.”

  “And I you.”

  We climbed silently. I felt jittery, on edge, as if I’d never been with him before. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His beautiful profile looked serious, but I sensed his excitement and uncertainty.

  Instead of turning on my be
droom light, I went to the nightstand, pulled out a lighter, and lit the wicks of several candles I’d kept in my room since the last time Devereux and I had spent time there. I closed the door and dropped my robe to the floor.

  He peeled off his black leather coat and tossed it on a chair, his eyes never leaving mine, then he tugged off his boots, pulled the silk shirt over his head in a smooth motion, and shook his lustrous hair. His expression ravenous, he unsnapped the waist of his leather pants and drew down the zipper. With vampire speed, the pants were off and kicked to the side.

  We moved slowly toward each other.

  My heart pounded and my body heated, as if the candles were giving off a blaze instead of tiny flames.

  When we were standing close enough for my nipples to touch his chest, he wrapped his arms around me and nodded at the candles, extinguishing them. The room went dark and immediately wind blew against my face as we soared through space.

  “Hold on!” he said.

  “Hey—it’s cold out here! I’m naked! Where are we going?”

  “You will see.”

  “Devereux, really,” I yelled over the sound of the wind. I loved his surprises, but his mood had been so odd I wasn’t sure I was ready for another mystical adventure. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Wherever I wish.” He laughed.

  We landed gently in an incredible room that looked like my fantasy version of Arabian Nights.

  He released me, and I scanned the immediate area, dazzled by the gorgeous layers of multicolored silk and satin fabric that covered the walls and draped randomly and luxuriously across the expanse.

  I wandered, touching and rubbing the layers between my fingers, very aware of his gaze on me.

  A massive bed topped with a bold red, purple, and blue silk spread dominated the room. Unobtrusive music drifted from hidden speakers and rich, exotic incense burned in a small bronze tray sitting on a low table surrounded by oversize pillows scattered across the floor. Candles atop tall holders arranged throughout the space created a soft golden light.

  “Wow, this is quite something.” I felt like a kid in a candy store. “Is it another one of your properties?” I knew he had hundreds.

  “Yes.”

  Hmmm. My previous enthusiasm drooped. No confusion about the purpose of this opulent sex den. I tried to keep my voice neutral. “Do you bring women here often?” Fearing what he would say, my stomach muscles contracted. I was surprised by how much his answer mattered

  to me.

  The corners of his lips rose. “I do not need to read your mind to know the response you wish me to give.” He moved to me, lifted my chin, and brushed my lips with his. “I am petty enough to be happy you are jealous.”

  Was I jealous of the other women he’d brought here? Hell, yes! I imagined the truly gorgeous specimens he might choose and shifted carefully out of his reach. “I’m not jealous. Just curious.”

  “You are a bad liar.” He grinned. “But I can give you the answer you desire: no, I do not bring women here. This suite is part of a fantasy-based business I own. The company offers multi-themed buildings all over the world for the purpose of romantic escapes. The business is very successful.”

  “Oh.” I looked away as relief swamped me.

  “I chose this destination because I thought we both could benefit from a little positive fantasy and some time without interruptions of any kind.”

  My pulse quickened.

  Devereux walked to a veiled window.

  I admired his long, toned nude body as he moved gracefully across the room. The dim candlelight subdued the paleness of his skin and brought out the diamond highlights in his hair. Watching his ass and legs made my mouth water again.

  He pulled back the curtain and motioned for me to come and look.

  Finally tearing my gaze from his tasty physical attributes, I strolled to the window.

  Pyramids!

  “Where are we?” I heard the awe in my voice and knew he could hear it, too.

  “Egypt.”

  I goggled. I’d never been to Egypt. I’d seen only photos of the pyramids, all taken in the daytime, not enhanced as they were now by a colorful lightshow and the star-filled sky above.

  “So beautiful,” I whispered, staring at the ancient structures. My heart squeezed again.

  “Yes. Beautiful beyond words.”

  I shifted my gaze to him, eager to admire again another natural wonder, and found him looking at me in the intense way he often did. Realizing he’d been referring to me and not the pyramids, heat warmed my face. No matter how many times I heard them, his compliments could still reduce me to an insecure schoolgirl. I studied the silver-speckled marble floor. “Thank you.”

  He raised my chin with his finger and pressed his lips to mine.

  Overwhelmed by the opulence of the room, with the pyramids outside the window, and knowing he’d planned it all to please me, I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed him back enthusiastically. I reveled in the feeling of his hard, sculpted chest and … other things, one of which had risen to the occasion. His skin was hot against mine. He must have fed recently.

  We broke the kiss and looked into each other’s eyes. “Let this be the start of our new beginning.” His velvet voice caressed my ears.

  “Oh, yes.” More than willing, still lost in his blue-green gaze, I looped my arms around his neck, and we kissed again, more deeply, our tongues dancing. Hunger leaped between us. He ravished my mouth as I melted into him, the sensuousness of his tongue just a taste of what was to come, and a wave of pleasure and desire washed through me. I didn’t know if it came from Devereux or from me.

  It briefly occurred to me how weird it was that I didn’t seem to mind being naked. I was actually oddly comfortable. Maybe after spending seven days in a sheer white gown, total nudity wasn’t much of a leap.

  When we finally pulled apart, me slightly lightheaded, he pointed toward the wall. “There is a cupboard and a refrigerator behind the drapery, stocked with all manner of things humans enjoy to eat and drink, including champagne. Would you like some?”

  “No.” I gave him a smoldering look. “I’m intoxicated enough just being with you.”

  Judging by the wattage of his smile, that statement pleased him.

  “Well, then.” He walked to the bed, opened a panel behind it, and pressed a button. The background music stopped abruptly and “Stranger in Paradise” from the musical Kismet began to play.

  I couldn’t believe he’d remembered. I’d mentioned to him, while he was unconscious after the abortive blood-magic ritual a couple of months back, that not only had my parents named me for that particular musical, but I’d heard the soundtrack so often in childhood that it had become one of my personal favorites. Especially this song. I guess some part of him really had been conscious.

  “May I have this dance?” He moved toward me and opened his arms.

  Thinking we’d go straight to the gorgeous silk-covered bed, I felt momentarily awkward. Dancing wasn’t one of my talents, and Devereux and I had never been in a situation where it was required, but I was so touched by his romantic gesture that I simply walked into his arms. Hopefully, one of us would know how to lead.

  I needn’t have worried. He was magnificent. The vampiric Fred Astaire. He guided me with ease and grace in circles around the room, holding me gently yet firmly, as we gazed at each other, both adrift in the wonder of the moment.

  Stranger in paradise? Was that what I was? A stranger to Devereux’s supernatural world, certainly. Or maybe a stranger with a visitor’s pass? Perhaps some would call living almost forever, and having all one’s earthy desires fulfilled, paradise. Others might call it a curse. I didn’t know what I thought.

  When the song finished, ambient music once again flowed from the invisible speakers. Devereux scooped me up, walked to the bed, and held me with one arm while he pulled down the covers. Then he lowered me onto the plush mattress and climbed in next to me, lying on his side.


  He leaned over and kissed me lightly at first, then more deeply. I slid into his heat, into his rhythm, wrested control of the kiss until he took it back. Finally pulling away, his mesmerizing eyes on mine, he gave a gentle smile. “Listen.”

  The quiet music, barely discernable, was all I could hear. I didn’t want to talk or to listen. I just wanted to kiss. I raised my eyebrows. “To what?”

  “The silence.” He tugged one of the curls of my hair until it straightened, then watched it bounce back into a spiral. “No telephones.” He circled one tight nipple, and I moaned. So much for staying cool. “No one popping in to demand our attention. Not even any street sounds due to the excellent soundproofing.” He gently squeezed my breast in his palm before smoothing his hand slowly down past my stomach and combing his fingers through the dark hair covering my genitals. “Soft.”

  His touch sent anticipation and pleasure through my entire body. I moaned again.

  “I hope you are enjoying this private time together as much as I am.”

  “Oh, yes.” I was pretty sure the unconscious sounds I’d been making gave a good indication of my level of enjoyment. “I’m loving it. This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in quite a while.”

  “Well,” he grinned. “Let me see if I can expand your repertoire of feelings.” He trailed his fingers down my breasts to my stomach again, launching ripples of energy through my skin. Then he returned to my breasts, using his clever fingers to pluck and pinch and stroke my nipples into hard, aching points.

  “Mmmmm …” My legs parted without any conscious thought.

  He angled over and tortured me by taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around the tender flesh until I was drowning in bliss. Each tug of his wet lips on my nipple directly stimulated my clitoris, sending me into ecstasy overload, my body growing tight with need. It felt like he was touching both parts of my body at once, but I could see he wasn’t.

  He raised his head and eased his hand down my stomach then nudged my legs farther apart before easing one finger into the wet heat of my core and gently stroking. He circled my pleasure center with his thumb.