"So, you can see in the dark? How dark can it be before you can't see any more?"
Michael sighed.
***
"So really, were you always this pretty, or did you become pretty when they made you a vampire?"
Michael gave Caitlin another sideways glance, but really, she thought is was a fair question. Both of the vampires—vampires—that she had met so far were gorgeous, and the stories she had read weren't exactly consistent. Some of them made it sound like every vampire was a supermodel waiting to happen, and some of them had vampires with potbellies.
This kind of information was important.
"I'm different, but you'd still recognize me. The change kind of brings out your best features." He nodded his chin at her. "You'll probably notice your skin and hair are better for the next couple of weeks."
"So, like, the back of my legs. I have a really hard time toning the back of my legs. If I was a vampire ...?"
He looked at Caitlin's legs long enough to make her worry that he was going to drive off the road. "Your legs are fine," he said, a trace of a smile on his face. Then he turned his attention back to steering the car. "You don't need to die to improve them."
Caitlin was simultaneously happy at the compliment and miffed that he hadn't given her a direct answer. "What about your hair? Can you cut your hair?"
"No. Well I can, but it grows back the next time I eat. I've seen Angelica change her hair style, though, so there must be some trick to it that I don't know yet."
"Angelica was the girl who called you away from the club, right? Who is she?"
"She's ... complicated. She's the Regent of this area. Kind of like a queen, or a governor. This place, all of this, is hers."
"All of this? What do you mean?"
"St. Troy. All of it belongs to her. Some of it literally, she owns a ton of property. But this is her Regency, the area she governs, and there's no one strong enough to challenge her."
"How strong is she?"
"Strong enough to walk in the sunlight."
"Oh. What did she want with you?"
"Like I said, it's complicated. And we're home."
Michael pulled off the road and into a long, winding driveway. The wrought iron gate surrounding the house swung itself open as they approached. The driveway must have been a mile long, and the whole estate was surrounded by trees, just like Liam's.
"So I guess vampires like their privacy," Caitlin said.
"It makes things easier."
Then they were at the house itself. It was a sprawling Tudor style structure, made of old brick and iron and lead glass. The whole face of it was covered in windows, and Caitlin was surprised to see lights burning inside. The roof was made of slate, and there were a series of chimneys. It looked like something out of an old Gothic novel.
Michael glided to a stop beneath an attached car park. "Come on," he said, and led her inside.
The interior was just as impressive. The floor was shining hardwood, and the ceilings were nearly twenty feet high. Rich, thick rugs were spread around, and artwork, clearly old and clearly expensive, decorated the walls.
Something bumped against Caitlin's leg, and she jumped. Michael bent down and scooped up a white cat, and held it to his chest. "Hello, Gabriel. This is Caitlin." Michael scratched him behind the ears, and a small rumble filled Gabriel's throat ... and was soon answered with another, deeper rumble.
"Are you ... are you purring at your cat?" Caitlin asked.
"I like cats," Michael said. "They think like I do."
Michael led her further into the house. A butler, an actual butler, was waiting for them. He was an older man, probably in his fifties, mostly bald but with a few wisps of white on the sides of his head. He was wearing a perfectly pressed black tuxedo, and white gloves. "Master McKenna," he said. "Good to have you home, sir. Morning approaches, and I was beginning to fear for your safety." He looked Michael up and down with a disapproving eye. "And you appear to have developed a minor case of nudity. Sir."
"He knows?" Caitlin whispered.
"He has no idea," Michael whispered back. "I told him I have a phobia about the sun, and the blood drinking ... well, that was harder to explain, but that's why we choose dumb people for our help."
Caitlin stuck her tongue out at him.
"Will the lady be joining us for dinner?" the butler asked.
Michael raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm starving," Caitlin answered. Her stomach rumbled again, stirred to life by the thought of food.
"Our selection is rather limited," the butler said regretfully. "We don't stock human blood, but I can offer you some cattle blood, and I believe we have some more exotic animals stored in the cellar. Of course, any of our staff would be willing to donate—"
"She's human, William. Make her a grilled cheese or something."
The butler raised his eyebrow, which Caitlin thought was this guy's equivalent of throwing up his hands and shouting. "My apologies, madam. We so rarely have human guests. Our kitchen is stocked for the servants, however, or I could send someone out for food. Do you have anything particular in mind?"
"Oh, thanks William, but really anything is fine. I haven't eaten in forever. A sandwich would be fantastic right now."
"Very well, madam." He raised his eyebrow at Michael, who gestured him away. The butler turned on his heel and disappeared further into the house.
Michael looked down at his blood-spattered skin. "I need to clean up. What about you? Do you want to take a shower?"
Oh. Caitlin looked up and down Michael's body. At the strong chest, the chiseled abs, the pelvic muscles that disappeared into his jeans. She licked her lips. "I would love to," she said.
Michael cocked his head to the side. "There are ten bathrooms in this place. We don't have to share."
Embarrassed heat crawled up Caitlin's face. "Right, sorry. I mean, I knew that. Totally." She thought she saw just the hint of a smirk on Michael's face.
He led her up the staircase and to the second floor, and into one of the bedrooms. It was a huge room, bigger than their entire suite on campus, with a bed the size of a small city, windows you could fly a plane through, and an attached bathroom.
"Leave your clothes by the door, and I'll have someone come by to get them cleaned."
"But what am I going to—"
Michael left, closing the door behind him. Caitlin froze for a second, waiting to hear the click of a lock, but it never came.
***
Caitlin turned the water up as hot as she could stand, and let it fall over her shoulders. The heat felt wonderful, and she let it work away tension that she hadn't even know she was carrying.
She examined her body, and was amazed at what Michael's blood had done for her. It wasn't just her leg that had been healed; the bruises around her arm, the sore hip, the kink in her neck ... every little ache and pain that she had felt was gone. She felt alive in a way she hadn't thought possible, strong and confident and ... invincible.
She scrubbed herself clean, making sure to get every last drop of blood off. There was a full complement of soaps and scrubs, which kind of surprised her. Michael didn't seem like the pomegranate body wash type of guy.
Michael. Mysterious, beautiful, heroic Michael. She closed her eyes, savoring the thought of him.
An image flashed through her head. Michael, a few rooms away, still naked from the waist up. Running a shower himself, steam rising up around him like smoke. The room he was in was dark, but she could still see him. The colors were washed out, muted, almost black and white, but she could see.
She could see everything. Feel everything. Feel his muscles flexing as he walked across the room. Feel his power and grace. Feel the cold tile beneath his feet.
Michael stripped off his clothes, and Caitlin murmured in pleasure. She could see the long muscles of his legs, the tight lines of his stomach. She felt it as the warm water spilled over Michael's skin, felt the abrasion of the cloth he used to clean himself.
; She could feel him. The tension, the worry. His emotions roiled within him, a mixture of anger and concern and fear.
All of it about her.
He wanted to lash out at something, anything. He wanted to find Liam and tear him apart. He wanted to protect her.
But he couldn't. Liam was too powerful, too unpredictable. Too dangerous.
Something was building inside of him. Something impulsive, uncontrollable. Something just as unpredictable and dangerous as Liam. Would it be enough? He didn't know. He didn't care. He would end this.
His mood changed. He was thinking about her now. Not about protecting her. Just about her. Her hair, her skin, her eyes. The curves of her body. The sweep of her legs. His chest rumbled at the thought.
Caitlin's heart raced, and she moaned.
And then, instantly, it was gone. The image disappeared, replaced by the darkness of her closed eyes. Caitlin put her hand on the wall to steady herself, and took deep breaths, trying to calm her heart.
She turned the water cold, and let the icy spray cover her.
***
Her clothes were gone, and a set of black silk pajamas were lying on the bed. Caitlin finished toweling off and dressed, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her skin. Then she walked out of the bedroom and back down stairs.
She found Michael in a vast living room, sipping from a glass that looked like it contained brandy ... but probably didn't. He was sitting in an old armchair near a fireplace. A pair of swords hung over the mantle. There was another chair next to him, and a tray stacked with sandwiches.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She sat down and grabbed a sandwich. It was hard to look at him after she had just seen him, well, the way she had seen him.
"Are you sure? You look flushed. And your heart is pounding."
Caitlin's eyes went wide. "You can hear my heart?"
He nodded. "And I can see your pulse. Your neck is quivering."
"That's ... creepy."
"So what has you all spun up?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Stupid. It's just, when I was in the ... when I was upstairs, I had this image stuck in my head."
"Of what?"
"Um, you."
He gave her a crooked grin. "Well, I am pretty memorable."
"Like, all of you. It's like I could see through your eyes. And you were, you know ..."
"Oh. Right, sorry. I should have warned you about that. That's one of the effects of the blood. You're linked to me now. You'll be able to get inside my head for a few days. Any strong emotions I feel will bleed over into you. And you'll probably dream about me."
"Can you see inside of my head?"
"No, I'd have to drink your blood for that to happen."
"Oh. Okay." Then she smiled. "So wait ... I can just look into your head? Like, I can see what you're doing? Know what you're feeling? Any time I want?"
Michael's eyes narrowed. "...Yes."
"So like, I could be, I don't know, lying in bed, just thinking to myself, 'boy, I wonder what Michael is wearing right now,' and I'd be able to see?"
"Don't make me regret saving your life."
Caitlin looked at him with wide eyes. She was pretty sure he was joking. Pretty sure. "Want a sandwich?" Michael shuddered. "Okay, so no sandwich then. So ... you can't eat people food?"
His eyes glinted. "No, just people."
Caitlin stuffed the sandwich in her mouth, her eyes still a bit wide.
She finished eating, and waited for Michael to say something, but he remained silent. Finally, she couldn't take it any more. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You haven't stopped asking me questions since I came through the door."
"That's actually ... I mean, why? Why did you come for me? You didn't seem to want anything to do with me at the club."
Michael set his glass down—the liquid stuck to the sides in a way brandy never would—and started to pace around. "I ... couldn't. Leave you. I knew what he was going to do with you.
"We're not all evil, Caitlin. Some of us are as moral as any human. But not Liam. Liam ruins everything he touches. He's evil, pure and simple. And he would have ... I couldn't let that happen to you."
"How do you know him?" Caitlin asked.
"Ooh, that's a fun story," said a voice from the entryway. "Why don't you tell her, Michael?"
They both turned. A tall, muscular figure with long red hair sauntered into the room.
Liam.
Chapter Five
The bus dropped Bethany and Garret off right in front of their dorms. God, college life was going to be fantastic. She had been worried that she was never going to go anywhere, because she didn't have a car, but the campus had busses that would take you anywhere. The grocery store, the mall, even the nightclubs. It was amazing.
And she had been worried that she wouldn't make any friends. She wasn't going to kid herself; she wasn't the hot girl that all of the boys noticed—that was Caitlin, or Olivia if they were into the bitchy cheerleader type—and she didn't have the whole exotic thing going on that Alexis had. It wasn't like she was hideously ugly or anything, but Bethany never considered herself beautiful, either.
And she was kind of a nerd. Book smart and street dumb, she guessed? She was way more comfortable talking about the difference between Greek and Gothic sculpture than what she was going to do over the weekend.
And when she met Olivia? Honestly, she had been just a little bit afraid. Afraid that college was just going to be a repeat of high school. Afraid that she was going to be overlooked, except when the popular people needed someone to pick on.
But Caitlin had been so nice to her, so warm and welcoming and encouraging. And she was a wizard with makeup. The way she made Bethany's eyes pop, and the way she did her hair ... Bethany hardly recognized herself in the mirror. And the shirt she let her borrow ... it definitely made the most out of the limited assets Bethany had to work with.
And Garret. He was the first person Bethany met on campus, and he had been awesome. He had helped move her stuff in without her even having to ask. And he hadn't just thrown her stuff in her room and taken off, either. He had actually stayed to talk to her. Like she was important. Like she was a real person.
And then he had danced with her. All night long. And now he was walking her home.
Holding her hand.
"This was awesome," he said. "I'm really glad you came out with us."
"Me too," Bethany replied. "This was a lot of fun. I think I'm really going to like it here."
They were standing outside of the dorms. A breeze kicked up, and Bethany shivered. Garret ran his hands over her arms, warming them.
"I should ... probably get to bed," Bethany said. "After I take a shower."
Garret was staring at her. She loved the way he looked at her. She wanted him to stare at her like that all night long. "Yeah," he said, "I could use a shower, too."
Bethany bit her lip, and nodded. "Yep. Showers all around."
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity. Then he bent down, quickly, and pressed his mouth against hers.
God, college life was going to be fantastic.
***
"Run!"
Michael's voice was as harsh as broken glass.
Caitlin wanted to run, tried to, but she was rooted in place, staring at the vampire who had kidnapped her earlier that night.
Michael, however, was moving. Moving so fast that Caitlin could hardly see him. He was a dark blur and a gust of wind and a rumbling growl, and then one of the swords disappeared from above the fireplace.
Liam had gone into full fang-face. He was crouched and snarling. His talon-tipped fingers flexed, eager to tear into something.
Caitlin took a single step backward.
A lion's roar shook the room, and Michael lunged at Liam. The silver rapier cut through the air like a lightning bolt, and Michael crossed the room in a single leap. He landed in a deep lunge, thrusting the blade forward, aiming for Liam's heart
.
But Liam wasn't there.
The other vampire had moved aside as smoothly as smoke, and was standing next to Michael. He reached out, almost casually, and grabbed the sword from his hand. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the blade flying toward the wall, where it embedded almost up to the hilt.
Michael's talons flashed, but Liam swatted him away. Michael careened off the far wall, and Caitlin could hear bones breaking. Michael fell to the ground in a heap.
Liam turned, his vampire face melting away. "I'm hurt, Caitlin. I thought we had something special." He put his hand over his heart. "And I was looking forward to consummating our relationship. But then you just ran off," he wrinkled his nose, "with him."
He walked forward, and Caitlin backed up until she was pressed against the wall. "Yeah, well, he has a really great car, and you know how girls are about cars. I couldn't resist."
Liam leered and reached out toward her. Caitlin shrank back, but she had nowhere to go. Liam touched her cheek, and ran his fingers through a lock of her hair. "I love a girl with spirit," he said. "I think I'll let you live a while. I want to see just how long that spirit lasts."
Michael was suddenly there, red eyes furious, talons speeding toward Liam's throat. Caitlin flinched, but Liam caught Michael's hand and squeezed, breaking his wrist. Michael cried out. Liam turned and grabbed him by the throat, his talons drawing trickles of blood from Michael's skin.
Caitlin grabbed a fire poker, and smashed it against Liam's head as hard as she could.
His skull cracked, and a spray of blood arced through the air. Liam stumbled forward ...
And turned, smiling, to face her. The wound healed before her eyes. Liam wiped the blood off of his brow, and licked his fingers clean.
"Nice shot. But you've got a lot to learn about violence. Don't worry, I have time to teach you."
Liam turned back to Michael and smashed him in the face, over and over again, then threw him aside.
The vampire turned again to Caitlin. His eyebrows scrunched up. "Are you wearing pajamas? Huh. Good for him." He traced a single talon along her top's neckline, running it down to the first button. With a flick, the button went skittering across the floor. Caitlin's lip trembled.
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