Unbitten

by Valerie du Sange

  “Jo! Come sit with us!” said the Italians, ever convivial.

  She smiled and walked over, trying not to look like she was looking for David while, in fact, she looked for David. Threading her way through the tables, she tripped but caught herself, grabbing the back of Katarina’s chair.

  “Sorry!” Jo said. “Switching into heels from riding boots always throws me for a loop.”

  All the faces in the room suddenly left Jo and looked towards the doorway.

  “Angélique!” shouted Arsenio. “Finally, you grace us with your presence!”

  Angélique smiled, while glancing around, “No, sorry, I can’t stay. I’m looking for David?”

  “He went to get us more wine!” said one of the New Zealanders gleefully.

  “Looks like you’ve all got a quite a party going,” said Angélique.

  Arsenio leapt up from his table and approached Angélique. “Yes, yes, and you absolutely must join us!” Arsenio was totally besotted with his wife, but he found that having other very attractive women around only made the sex with his wife that much better. And he thought Angélique, with her no-nonsense clothes and her clipboard and air of efficiency, was seriously hot. Nothing better than a naughty librarian, in his mind.

  Angélique paused, seeing all their faces turned so hopefully towards her. “Let me check with Marcel to make sure he has enough food,” she said.

  Before long, the New Zealanders were dead drunk, the Britons had told their children to go back to their cottage by themselves, and the Italians were working steadily on yet another bottle of Bordeaux. Katarina had eaten and left early on, after barely saying a word to anyone. Jo had stopped after two glasses, and was right at the point of deciding that everyone else was so drunk they were boring; she had sworn to herself no David tonight, no matter how charming he was.

  And, of course, he was charming. He kept catching her eye and smiling private smiles at her. He did not move to sit next to her, but sat across the table, watching her, licking his lips, laughing at her jokes. Dammit, she thought, feeling her defenses crumbling once again.

  When Arsenio was telling an involved joke that required him to speak at least four languages and stand up to make various hand motions, Angélique leaned close to David and whispered, “When this winds down, I need to speak with you. It’s important.”

  David was instantly filled with fear but did not show it. “No problem,” he said, lifting his glass for yet another toast.

  The party went on for several more hours. Jo had gone to bed, hoping David would follow, but he did not. Katarina was long asleep, also having hoped David would follow, but he did not. The New Zealanders collapsed on the table, and the others left them there to figure things out on their own. Arsenio was outside with Marina, singing gondolier songs he was making up on the spot.

  David stood at the foot of the stairs trying to decide whether he could see Jo without biting her. He didn’t fully understand why the urge was so overwhelming; he hadn’t experienced anything like it before.

  Callie Armstrong. He put his head in his hands for a moment. Then stood up straight, flexed his powerful shoulders, and walked outside.

  25

  As he approached the door of his lab, Henri had been thinking about how warm the American girl’s skin had felt under his hand. He stared into the iris recognition device. The door had slid open, and he walked forward, happily expectant, ready to immerse himself in the pleasure of work.

  Nothing could have prepared him for the state of things inside.

  Drawers open. Papers all over the floor. Nothing where it was supposed to be. He quickly walked through to the back room, where the actual lab work took place, and gasped. Beakers overturned, puddles of strange-colored liquids on the floor, smoke coming from one corner. And a very, very bad smell.

  Henri gagged and fled to the other room, closing the door behind him. He had never allowed anyone inside, not even David. But he was going to need help cleaning up this mess, there was no way around it.

  What is going on? he thought. It did not look like simple vandalism. Rummaging around his desk, he found a tablet under a stack of papers on the floor and a stylus in one of the drawers. In his familiar scientific way of approaching problems, he began by making a list. POSSIBILITIES, he wrote out, in his artistic French script, and underlined it in red.

  But there was only one possibility that made any sense at all. Somebody wants my work, he thought.

  The bandage file missing earlier must be part of the same operation, by the same person or persons. Henri felt a quick chill go through him, the chill of realizing that someone had invaded his private space and gotten in all his stuff, and was very likely prepared to harm him.

  He stood up. No fucking way is this going to continue, he thought.

  He got his cell phone out and called David. No answer. He saw the text about insomnia remedies, shaking his head but smiling. He texted back asking David to call him. Then he called the person at the Château who was best at getting something done: Angélique.

  “So sorry, I know it’s probably been a long day for you,” he said.

  “No worries, Henri. But I will tell you, I’ve been at dinner with David and the guests and I can’t claim to be perfectly sober.”

  Henri was mildly surprised. He had never known Angélique to do anything but work.

  “There’s been a break-in at my lab,” he said calmly. But his face looked deeply frightening, and if Pierre had seen it, he might have considered relocating. To another continent.

  “I’m going to need some cleaning help,” he continued. “Several people, and they must be able to follow directions perfectly. I’ll have to wipe them afterwards. I’ll double their pay, of course–and I need them to come now.”

  “Now,” Angélique repeated, mentally running through her list of housekeepers and identifying the ones who fit Henri’s criteria. “I’ll get on it right away. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “That’s it for right now,” he said. “Tomorrow afternoon, the minute I get up, we will need to talk about security. This is the second break-in, and as you probably know, my lab is not just sitting here with the doors wide open, inviting visitors. This is not random and I’m sorry to say I believe there is danger involved. Whoever is doing this is willing to take serious risks.”

  A pause while they both considered that, and what they needed to do in response.

  It was difficult for Henri to start dealing with the mess instead of working. He had enjoyed working on the original Hemo-Yum, certainly. And the bandages had not been without their moments of interest. But the new product, the one for his mother–it was really the perfect project, both intellectually challenging and something with real, tangible value, even apart from its possibilities as a profit-maker.

  He kept having a recurring image come into his head, a curious image really. He saw himself walking down to the dungeon with the first bags of synthetic blood for his mother. What was curious was that Jo, that American girl, was with him.

  Jo had given up. All right then, she thought, turning off the light by her bed. Nothing so wrong in having a few hot nights and then calling it quits. Nothing at all wrong with that.

  She was not especially convincing to herself. There he had been, right across the table from her. He had smiled at her, hung on her words, looked at her so longingly…and then nothing. He’s not here, she kept thinking. Just…not…here.

  Jo fought with herself about it, for goddamn sure she didn’t want to feel this way, but the truth was that David’s flirting followed by not showing up–it made her feel like something was wrong with her. She lay back, for once not even noticing her magnificent bed with its fresh coverlet of orange and red stripes, and tried to listen for what Marianne would say.

  Just then, the antique doorknob slowly turned.

  “Are you asleep?” David asked gently.

  Jo felt a thrill shoot through her body like nothing she had ever experienced. It was not, no matter how
confused she might be in the moment, a thrill of love, or even sex. It was the thrill of escaping the shame of rejection.

  She peeled the covers back without a word, and David, having wrenched off his clothes, slid in beside her, his hands instantly all over her.

  “For the record, I’m mad at you,” she said.

  “What record is that,” he said, but did not wait for an answer, but pressed his lips on hers, roughly, his tongue quickly in her mouth, his hips pushing against her leg.

  Jo kissed back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and then reached up to caress his broad back. She opened her legs and he quickly moved between them, already excited, too excited, uncontrollable.

  “I need to have you,” he said hoarsely into her hair, and again, she felt the thrill.

  He cupped her breasts and leaned down and kissed them, moaning. His cock was at her opening, probing, and she opened her legs wider, then brought her knees up and over his shoulders.

  She tried to enjoy what he was doing. It felt good, right? She thought, this man I’ve been completely besotted with is kissing me, and what I feel is…nothing?

  “Ohh,” he said, reaching down and guiding himself inside her. “Got to have you now,” he said, then kissing her again, and thrusting, slamming into her so that the heavy bed was banging against the wall.

  She wasn’t ready. It was like he had been halfway to orgasm before he’d even gotten upstairs.

  “Aaahh,” he groaned, coming into her with violent spasms, bucking, kissing her head, her cheek, her ear.

  What Jo felt was mostly like an observer. She had seen him rush in, tear off his clothes, and have sex with her–but she had not really caught up to the present moment before he had leapt ahead, leaving her behind. It wasn’t just a matter of not having had an orgasm yet. It was more than that. Like for once she was able to have some perspective instead of getting totally swept away in the thundering surf of sensation that was sex with David.

  “I’m not finished with you yet,” he said, taking her legs down and kissing each one, going from the insides of her knees all the way up to her cleft.

  She tried to relax.

  He rested on his elbows, nibbling at her thighs, teasing her with his tongue, taking his time.

  “David,” she said, because she felt like talking but couldn’t think of what to say. She put her hands in his hair and pulled it, just hard enough to feel resistance.

  David’s tongue was getting higher and higher, but not high enough. Jo started to wriggle, her excitement building. He reached one hand under her, gripping her ass, and moaned again.

  His moans really did it. They made her body melt into his, made her brain go blank, everything fizzy and warm and juicy. When she thought she couldn’t stand it another second, he brought the tip of his tongue to the precise spot she wanted it, and licked with incredible speed, driving her into an ecstatic state, moaning and thrashing from one side to another. He slid the hand on her ass down until his finger found her hole, and as he brought his mouth all the way on her, sucking in rhythm, he pushed his finger barely in, just enough to make her gasp, and come, writhing, and shouting his name.

  “Mmm,” he said, coming up beside her and kissing her, so that she could taste all their juices mixed together. “Jo. I can’t even explain how badly I’ve needed you all day, how I’ve thought of this, over and over. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

  Jo brushed her fingers through his hair, smiling the smile of the recently-orgasmed.

  David’s fangs were throbbing again. He tried to push away the need to bite but the sex had made it worse. Her neck was lightly sweaty, her artery pulsing. He brushed her hair back, unable to take his eyes off that artery. He went to kiss her cheek, but when he leaned in and breathed her scent, he lost control. With no warning, he plunged his fangs into her neck and began to suck–long, deep sucks, his arms holding her still, wrapping her tight, so she could not move.

  Jo’s mind was blown. She had no idea what he was doing, but she felt a quick needling pain at her neck, a wonderful pain, and then she was rocketing again towards the brink, feeling something utterly new, strange, but massively exciting. She was moving her hips, pushing herself against him, loving the feeling of being held so tight, so tight she couldn’t get away, like she was prey and he had caught her. Bizarrely, it made her euphoric beyond anything she had ever felt.

  With a sudden buck of her hips she was over the top again, letting herself ride the wave of pleasure, her body convulsing, shaking, and then slowly, slowly, beginning to calm.

  “What…was that?” she said, staring up at the ceiling, limp. He had let her go, relaxed his arms around her, and put his cheek on her shoulder. He licked her blood off his lips, savoring every drop. She had been every bit as delicious as he had imagined she would be. She had tasted oceanic–fresh, and immense somehow, complex, extra-salty.

  “David?” Jo said, her voice sounding a little small. “I don’t feel very good,” she said, suddenly sitting upright and pulling away from him, then swinging her legs over the side of the bed to get her feet on the floor. “Actually, not good at all,” she said. She propped herself up with her hands, thinking she might vomit.

  “I don’t know what to say,” said David. He could feel every molecule in his body singing, a great chorus of yes! yes! yes! followed by more! more! more!

  He wiped his mouth again. In his experience, women did not especially like seeing their blood on his lips and teeth, even when they liked the biting itself.

  Jo turned to look at him. She saw the blood dripping down. Oh. She thought, simply, Oh.

  Followed by so it’s true?

  She put her hand to her neck. She saw his fangs, she saw the blood, she saw that something odd had happened to his eyes.

  “David?” she said.

  “Yes, Jo,” he said, taking her hand. “Are you feeling any better?”

  She didn’t respond but kept staring at his mouth and rubbing her neck.

  “I’ll just jump in then,” he said. "I’ve been meaning to tell you, but as you’ll see, it hasn’t been easy to find the right moment.

  “Yes, we’re real. I mean, vampires. Me. Sorry, I am feeling a bit rattled–I have been trying extremely hard not to bite you, but in the end, it’s what we do. I lost control.”

  He sat up and put an arm around her waist. She did not pull away.

  “I’m sorry, David. I’m…”

  “Speechless?” he said, with a light laugh.

  “Yeah, that would sum it up pretty well!”

  He stroked her arm, then touched her face. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “I don’t feel very good. It’s like, my energy was just yanked away from me or something. I feel sort of…extinguished.”

  “That should pass quickly,” David said, although he had no idea whether that was true.

  Jo looked at him intently. “So, am I a vampire now too?” Not that she was completely convinced that what David was saying had any truth at all. A big part of her mind was searching for other explanations, for a metaphor, for something. Sure, she had heard the rumors over the years, and even, without realizing it, tried not to frequent certain places after dark. But without ever having seen a vampire with her own eyes, or had any of her friends tell her of an experience first-hand, well, she’d always discounted the stories as just people looking for drama.

  “No, you are not a vampire. A person is turned when she drinks a vampire’s blood, not the other way around,” said David, trying to sound reassuring. He could see the fear and confusion in her eyes, and the distrust. He couldn’t blame her. And yet, he was having to work very hard, extremely hard, not to lie on top of her and bite her again. Preferably while inside her, which is what he really liked best of all. His penis gave a twitch just at the idea.

  Jo fell back on the pillows and stretched out her legs. She allowed David to hold her hand but otherwise made no move to touch him.

  “I’m, uh, I’m h
aving sort of a difficult time getting my head around this,” she said. She kept reaching up and touching her neck. Then she pulled away and got out of bed, and walked to the big mirror next to the door. She craned her neck to look. There was a bite mark, no mistaking it: two holes, a little over an inch apart, blood oozing in a thin stream from each one.

  She turned to face him. “You bit me!” she said, in a tone of wonderment.

  David bowed his head. Sometimes these conversations went smoothly, and sometimes…not. This had the marks of one that was going to go on and on and on. He kept his head down until he could keep the irritation he felt out of his expression.

  “You want to do it again, don’t you?” she asked. It was as though she understood him now, infinitely better than before, now that she knew what he was. She could tune in to him in a way that had been blocked.

  “Yes,” he said, looking up, suddenly feeling hopeful. “I do, very much.”

  Jo put both palms up, making a double stop sign. “No.” she said. “I will say, that when you were doing it, it was incredible. It felt fantastic. Weird, but really, amazingly, blissfully good. But afterwards, ugh. Feels awful.”

  David kept his face still, with an expression of openness and understanding. What he was thinking was, “Shit.”

  “So it’s true, that vampires can’t stand sunlight? That’s why you are never around during the day?”

  “More or less, yes, that is the situation,” he said.

  Jo was a little surprised, but really, she had started to believe him the instant she understood he had bitten her. She saw that she did not trust him, had never trusted him, and now she had a reason why.

  Once she realized that, everything changed.