The Stage

by Catherine Russell

  “I’m still waiting,” he said, shaking his head ever so slightly.

  “Waiting for what?” I said, wanting to hear the rest of the story.

  “Waiting for you to run, screaming. But here you are…” He grasped my hand and kissed the vein on my wrist, lingering, smiling to himself.

  “I told you, I’m not running anywhere. Besides, I want to see the rest. How do you remember it all?” I felt my own smile, urging him forward.

  “When we enter our second lives, our ability to remember things and people is endless. So yes, we can recall so much history, and so many wonderful things. But…” He grimaced slightly at a thought he seemed to be holding back.

  “But what?”

  “We also remember things we’d rather not. The darkness, the evil that some of our kind inherently have. Trust me, my family is not the norm of our kind. Our bonds are built from love, from trust, and a desire to use our strengths and abilities to help those less fortunate in the world.” His smile touched his eyes as they blazed a bright, crystal blue. The truth was plain to see in his soul.

  He laughed lightly, then got up and walked over to the fire, grabbing the poker. He seemed lost in thought as he prodded the fire and stared into the showers of erupting sparks. He leaned up against the fireplace, grinning.

  “Where was I?”

  “You were dying… remember?”

  “Ah, yes. That part. Well, let’s suffice to say it wasn’t a comfortable experience. The pain was beyond intense. I don’t remember much, just the fact that I went through it. Time stood still. I awoke many days later.”

  Without his touch, I saw blurred images of him writhing in pain, followed by others where he lay motionless. All the while, Marco and other men surrounded him as the sun set and rose again, like a timetable. Then he was alive… a second time. His life was very different in these images: new people, new locations, and with these changes was a dire need—a need for blood. He took on the movements and mannerisms that I was used to seeing now, but he also had an air about him, as though he was better than everyone. He seemed to look down on anyone who was around, except for Marco.

  Bits and pieces of his memories flashed like lightbulbs, fast, then slow, bright, but a lot of them were dark, both in lighting and nature, his true nature showing through like I’d never seen before. My eyes flashed open as my breathing spiked, and he knew I’d seen the beast within. He stood, not moving from the fire’s edge. I curled my legs up, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to shake the image that sent shivers up my spine.

  “There is, however, one thing about my physical being that did not follow me.” He slowly bent down next to me, giving me what space he knew I needed. He cautiously took off my shades as I looked up into his eyes. I usually shied away from

  eye-to-eye contact, but with him I didn’t flinch.

  “I, too, had your eyes, Megan. One blue, and the other deep emerald. I found out that this is the characteristic that originally drew Marco to me. Among our kind there is a legend that tells the story of a child with two different-colored eyes. It’s said such a little one would be born to link with an immortal, to share not only our thoughts but our increased gifts of strength, speed, and other talents as well. Yet the child would remain mortal, a link between worlds.

  “As I was to learn, Marco had a tendency to collect talented people within his ranks. These talents were as wide-ranging and unique as the individuals. To have someone such as myself, a possible legend, was just too tempting for him. He had hoped that I was that link, but when became my sire, he destroyed the mortal connection needed. He didn’t understand that the link is a mortal person, so the link he hoped to forge with me was not a binding one.”

  He held my vision, a statue looking at me. “You, Megan, are the myth in physical form. You complete the link.”

  What could I say to this, really? “Me… a myth? Look who’s talking!” I quipped nervously. I hadn’t asked for this—how could he say I was some myth?

  His eyes bored into mine, holding me in the moment. His breath lightly fanned across my face, and suddenly the fire wasn’t the only thing in the room that was warm. He carefully touched my cheek, his cool finger leaving a burning trail down my face as his lips kissed my neck. A moment ago I was seeing the darkest side of him… and now that’s all I wanted. I let my instincts kick in. The warmth of the flames had warmed his skin as I took his face in my hands and brought his lips to mine.

  You’re no myth to me, but a reality that I desire. His silent words only fanned the flame of my own craving. With the history lesson behind us, I allowed my body to hunt him down. I found his lips, and his tongue danced in time with mine, the flavor intoxicating as it burned into my memory. I felt the heat rise in my blood as his hands found their way around my waist, lifting me to his lap. With his body as a barrier to the flames, we rocked back and forth, lost in our passion. His kisses came faster, harder, as I fumbled with his top. In one smooth move it was off, and I had access to the most deliciously chiseled body I’d ever seen. The more I drank his scent and taste in, the higher I flew.

  The outside world didn’t exist as I pushed him forward, facing the fire, with me atop his lap. His hands pulsed against my stomach and I knew what I wanted to do, but I had never gone this far. Somewhere in the darkest corners of my mind I could just make out a whisper of a voice. I ignored it; my entire being was now fully focused in pursuit of him. He was more than willing to be pursued. His razor-sharp incisors found my lip, pulling and holding me to him.

  His hands found the small of my back, securing me to him. The little voice grew louder. I pictured a metal footlocker and tried in vain to shove it inside, locking it away, but it wouldn’t stay put. It grew louder with each raking of his hand on my back. The pain of each motion was doubling upon itself. Our link was pure, raw energy, flowing with no beginning and no end. We were locked in an endless circle of exquisitely painful pleasure.

  Somehow, I realized that it wasn’t my voice I’d been hearing—it was his. The velvet honey tone lost in the straining chorus of “Stop!” that it was now yelling. Yet he himself couldn’t control it—or wouldn’t. The more I drank in his taste the more alive my body felt. Every nerve was alive, pulsing with our combined energy.

  “Megan… no… I can’t,” he gasped as we separated ourselves.

  I parted from him, seething at having to stop. The drive within me was making me see red, I craved him so badly. “What’d you mean, you can’t?” I was spitting mad… but why? I wanted to do nothing short of attacking him—right now. I had him in my sights and I pushed on the link connection, just once more. I wanted—no, I needed, that feeling again.

  “That’s why I have to stop, Megan!” Looking at him I could see the strain on him, trying to reign in the beast within. His eyes shifted from blue to black, and back again.

  I could still taste him in the air; on my tongue and in my mind.

  “Hold your breath. It will help.”

  I did as he said and tried my best to keep from pulling him back into my embrace, but my body felt compelled to make him mine. I couldn’t find my voice. What’s happening to me? Why can’t I have you? I growled across the link.

  “Because you’ve already taken in too much. I shouldn’t have done this to begin with.” I felt the link become suddenly quiet, cold and desolate. It was like a rude awakening, jumping into a freezing shower. My mind was clear again, and I sat back down across from him, giving us distance.

  “What just happened?” I said aloud as he pulled his shirt back on.

  “Something I should’ve never allowed.” He closed his eyes, running his hand through his hair.

  “I’m not following you.” I rubbed my neck where his teeth had grazed my skin, and realized how raw it was.

  “My teeth are the least of your worries. My venom is worse, carrying different viruses—plus a toxin that is addictive, leaving y
ou wanting more.” A look of fear appeared on his face, and I began to shake uncontrollably.

  “What’s going on?” My voice grew louder as I tried to stand—but that was the wrong thing to do. As soon as I pulled myself up, the room began to spin, growing darker, and my legs gave out. “What the hell?” I said as he caught me falling, the world fading out.

  “Megan!” His voice echoed off as I fell into a black hole.

  Chapter 17

  The chaotic dreams came quickly, with vivid colors and sounds: flashes of my dark forest, mom in her garden, flowers dancing alive across the video dream screen in my mind. I had no sense of time and the flowers and leaves spoke in people’s voices. A small primrose spoke, and I wasn’t surprised to hear Pepper’s voice as she spoke to a black rose. Even in my odd state of mind I knew who the black rose was. Geoffrey’s voice was thick with worry and shock. I tried to fight the heaviness of sleep that was pushing down on me. I wanted to hear their words.

  “Geoffrey, I have to admit I’m surprised. You, out of all of us, know better.”

  “I know, Pepper. I know. Trust me, I can’t fathom what I’ve done.” His voice dripped dread and guilt.

  “We’ll have to wait and see. Her vitals are fine, she’s resting. Although, knowing her, she’s trying to listen to us. Why don’t you head back and hunt? I can wait and watch over her. Remember, I’ve done it before.”

  Before? Yet another question to add to the pile.

  “No, I caused this. It’s my fault. I want to be here when she wakes.”

  I listened as Pepper’s steps faded out the door. The heaviness held me down, almost like I was trying to swim against the current, struggling to keep the water from dragging me under. Whatever it was that he’d done, whether intentional or not, he damn well better come clean when I woke up or there would be hell to pay.

  I took as deep a breath as I could, moving air far down into my lungs. I could just catch his scent on the tail end of the breath. The cravings rumbled again, wanting my full attention, but I pushed them aside. I would deny myself their pleasure to get the answers I wanted. I swallowed my own guilt, knowing I ‘d likely pursued him like no one had before. But why? Why did I crave his venom so much?

  I woke slowly enough not to be disoriented the moment I opened my eyes, and slowly rolled over. The dim light snuck under my eyelids. My toes found the soft patterns of the mattress top, tracing each small indentation on the seams. I began to stretch my arms and calves; they were so stiff, and I wondered how long I’d been out. I focused on other sounds, the treetops swaying in gusts of wind. The birds, rabbits, and squirrels were silent, perhaps having found solace in their burrows. The fact that I could pinpoint these things was intriguing, to say the least. I pushed against the last remaining shreds of the veil of sleep and opened my eyes. The daylight was opaque and dense. I knew what that meant; a snow day was upon us. Geoffrey was a silhouette in the glass, hands held behind his back, his head hanging low. Slowly he raised his head, exhaling what sounded like the deepest and heaviest of sighs I’d ever heard. The link hummed with his relief that I’d wakened. Well, that was going to be a brief moment.

  He turned, meeting my eyes as I pushed myself up, and brushed my hair out of my eyes. I said nothing as I wrapped the comforter around me. The air was cooler than I thought. As I shivered, he noticed and touched the thermostat, letting the human in me get the warmth I needed. He grinned, acknowledging my humanness.

  “Good morning.” His words were simple, yet I could hear his happiness in them. A small grin appeared, softening his concerned look. Okay, so he definitely felt guilty, but I needed to know what for.

  “Good morning to you too. What’s making you grin? Did I talk in my sleep again?” I waited patiently. I’d learned long ago to bide my time when someone was guilt-ridden.

  “Just that you’re awake, here, with me. It may be a simple concept for others but not today, not now.”

  “And I’m sure you’re going to explain what that entails, right? I don’t normally jump someone like I did last night with you. What happened?” The room began to spin slightly, plus my head felt heavy, almost like a hangover. I focused on him as he began to pace at the foot of the huge bed. Suddenly his words came out in a rush.

  “I didn’t want to leave you, Megan. Not after what I had done. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve warned the others of the dangers of intimate contact. Yet I did not heed my own warnings.”

  He closed his eyes, not meeting mine. His left hand balled into a fist so tight it looked as though his knuckles would break through his skin. He stopped at the window’s edge, and I stood carefully, dragging the blankets with me.

  “Geoffrey, what happened? You asked me a long time ago to trust you. I trust you to tell me the truth. I’m just as confused about last night as you are.”

  He was pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to evade his own nightmares. I tried another avenue. I closed my own eyes, put my hand on his shoulder, and pushed on the link. I felt a sense of mist, like a forest in the early morning hours. The energy was soft and pure, yet controlled, unlike yesterday’s experience. The morning rays just touched the leaves, making them a deep crimson, the air fresh and crisp with the scent of the changing autumn season.

  He was here, yet I couldn’t see him. The scene wavered before my eyes, and I instinctively raised my hand to push through it. The wall melted and I saw him, but he looked drastically different, with his eyes black and ghostly circles underneath. If this was what his guilt looked like, then it was bad. I saw my own hand as I took his. Our skin was identical and cool to the touch; yet when I felt his skin on mine it simmered, just flaming under our brief touch.

  “Hey, you. Talk to me. I’m not going anywhere, if you haven’t noticed. Did I do something I need to say ‘sorry’ for?”

  He found his voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Megan. It is I that should be asking for forgiveness. I may be well over a century old but I’m… I’m making the most elemental mistakes. Mistakes that are too costly when it comes to you.”

  This had doom written all over it. I crawled back into the bed, my head was pounding, I needed to lie down. He gently sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hand, tracing the scar over and over, soothing my stress.

  “There are certain situations that we avoid with mortals. Having us remain unknown is the first and foremost rule, but given our link, that isn’t possible. The second is no physical intimacy. Every moment I’m around you is dangerous for you.”

  He halted and looked up at me. “I tried to tell you before: our toxins, the venom, carry deadly viruses to humans…”

  Deadly? My mind began to race, trying to take in what he was explaining, but then my thoughts came to a screeching halt. Yet I was sitting up, talking, thinking… breathing. Knowing my luck it was a quirk in my system, but in this case a good thing.

  “The toxins can kill a human within minutes, sometimes hours, depending on how much enters the wound, where our teeth puncture the skin.”

  I sat in silence, knowing he wasn’t finished.

  “But you, Megan… there was no wound. I was so afraid of what I’d done to you. When you slept I was terrified that you wouldn’t wake. I had Pepper come and check on you, to make sure that your heart was beating normally, that your shallow breathing was nothing but ordinary…”

  My desire to jump down his throat fizzled as I saw his remorse.

  “Look, you didn’t hurt me, I’m fine, so don’t beat yourself up about it. We can talk about this after you have some breakfast, we shouldn’t get all emotional before one of us eats. Hunger and guilt aren’t the best companions first thing in the morning, trust me.” I smiled, lightening the moment the best I could. He stared at me, seeming confused, then shrugged.

  “What?” I asked as I noticed I had on pj’s. I had to remember to thank Pepper. I’m pretty sure he was gentleman enough not to have sn
uck a peek at me. He grinned as if he heard my thought.

  “You deserve someone so much better than I. Yet you have seen me when I haven’t wanted to be seen, and you stay. I’m still waiting for you to run in horror.”

  I found his words so weird. “For someone who’s supposedly known me for a long time, you have a strange sense of horror.”

  The briefest of images flashed across the link before I could control it. The step-jerk had been using my mom as a punching bag once again and I, being a whole seven years old, was attempting to go postal on him, trying to rescue her from our own day-to-day horror flick. I grimaced, not wanting to remember, let alone reveal the memory to another person.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean for you to see that.” I could feel the link rumble with his controlled fury. I stood to go, and his hand gently touched mine. I looked up to see the briefest color changes in his eyes, from black to blue.

  “How do you do that?” I asked, heading toward the bathroom, and all the hot water I could use. Then the answer dawned on me. His emotions were tied into his coloring. And not only were his emotions tied through the link, so were mine. We could feel each other’s emotions… and desires, which totally explained last night’s events. He didn’t miss a beat with his observation of the step-jerk.

  “Yes, and let’s just say I won’t be wasting time on that… human. No one deserves to live in terror as you and your mother did, not for any reason.” Images of the step- jerk and the many times I’d taken my mother into the ER flew before my eyes. In those images I saw us and never knew he’d been there—but then I noticed a familiar face.

  “Pepper? She was there?” Now I understood her comment, she had watched over me before.

  “Yes, she took care of your mother many times, and of course you, as well.” I felt a bit taken aback. He knew more about me and my past than most people. Even Ashleigh wasn’t privy to all the crap I had lived through.

  “What was she doing there?” I asked, turning on the hot shower, steaming the room.