Knights, Katriena - Vampire Apocalypse Book II.txt

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by Vampire Apocalypse Book II. txt (lit)


  “I don’t know. I didn’t get to that part.” He squeezed his eyes

  closed for an instant, took a deep breath, opened them again. His voice

  shook as he spoke. “She was . . . she was you.”

  Very carefully, Tara set the coffeepot down in the coffee maker.

  “Your point?”

  He crossed the kitchen to stand right in front of her. Looking into

  his eyes, she saw, for the first time, unmistakable echoes of Liam. So

  she wasn’t all that surprised when he ducked his head and kissed her.

  She was more surprised when she kissed him back, and she was

  positively astonished when her hands shoved themselves inside his shirt.

  His skin was warm and smooth under her fingers, and she let herself

  explore higher, clutching the muscles of his back where they dipped

  into the groove of his spine. His tongue pressed against hers, hot and

  urgent, and she responded. The dreams, she realized, had left her wanting

  this. Aching for it. She wrapped a leg around his, and he lifted a

  hand, cupping her breast.

  Suddenly he broke off, pushing away. “Tara, I’m sorry.”

  She pressed her fingers into his back, pulling him against her.

  “Why?”

  “This is inappropriate.”

  “Am I your patient?”

  “No.”

  “Am I related to any of your patients, as of this evening?”

  He smiled ruefully. “No.”

  “Do you want me?”

  The smile faded. “Yes.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, none of this is real.”

  “It feels real to me.” She bumped herself against him, pressing

  her breasts into his chest. “I think you’re overanalyzing.”

  Gently, he took her by the shoulders and pushed her away, at the

  same time taking a backward step. “I can’t act on this. I feel like I’d be

  manipulating you because of dreams I don’t even understand.”

  “What’s to understand? You know the whole reincarnation drill

  thingie. I was her. You were him. We were lovers. We could be that

  again.”

  “But how can that be true when there are vampires in the dreams?

  You and I both know vampires aren’t real.”

  “Maybe you know it.”

  He stared at her in silence.

  She stared back. “I think,” she said slowly, “that I might be falling

  in love with you. But I need answers to a few questions before I decide

  if I can let you into my life.”

  “What questions?”

  “Some very, very weird and difficult ones. Do you think you’re up

  for it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well let’s find out.”

  She finished brewing the coffee, and then they sat at her small

  kitchen table. Tara would have preferred to sit on the couch, but she

  was afraid that if she got too comfortable, she would just fall asleep

  and accomplish nothing. She let Gray take a few sips of coffee and get

  settled before she hit him with the first question.

  “In your professional opinion, why was Julian in our dreams?”

  Gray shrugged. “Maybe it was a projection of my resentment

  about his taking Daniel’s case out of my hands.”

  Tara prodded. “But you mentioned him in your regression journal.

  The vampire who rescued Liam and Felicity.”

  Frowning, Gray seemed to look for enlightenment in the depths of

  the coffee cup. “The description in the journal was vague, and I don’t

  remember the actual session very well.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes,

  in the dream I had tonight, Felicity looked like you, so, sure,

  maybe I was seeing Julian Cavanaugh’s former identity.”

  “Closer.”

  Gray looked at her, eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’m sorry. You

  have a particular answer in mind, here?”

  “I have a particular answer in mind because this is one case where

  I know more about what’s going on than you do.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m positive.” She pushed her coffee cup away, no longer interested

  in its bitter contents. It had to be the worst coffee she’d ever

  made. “If Julian was there, he was there. And he was Julian. The

  same Julian you met last night.” She shrugged. “Well, not quite, but

  close.”

  “Your ex-husband.”

  “He’s not my husband, ex or otherwise.” Watching Gray slug

  down half of the horrible coffee without a blink, Tara figured he had to

  be completely befuddled.

  Finally coming up for air, he said, “If Cavanaugh didn’t appear in

  the dream as a representation of who he was in a past life—” He

  broke off. “You’re saying he was the same person. That he’s a hundred

  and fifty, two hundred years old.”

  “Actually, he’s quite a bit older than that, but yes.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “You dreamed about vampires. Vampires are immortal.”

  “You’re trying to tell me Julian is a vampire?”

  Never mind trying to explain Julian’s not-quite-vampire status.

  She offered Gray a definitive “Yes.”

  He came to his feet in a lurch, shoving a hand through his hair.

  “You’re insane.”

  “Am I? You know what you saw in your dreams, and you know

  what those dreams are. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

  His face was set into hard lines. “There is absolutely no way I

  can possibly believe anything you’re saying. It just can’t be true. There’s

  no way.”

  “Gray—”

  Just then the front door opened and Daniel came in. “Hey, Tara,”

  he called, his voice exuberant. “I just talked to Dr. Greene. I’m gonna

  do it. Tomorrow. He sent me home with one last celebratory bag o’

  blood when I told him how I was afraid I might kill puppies—” He

  stopped in the kitchen doorway, one hand raised high, holding a hospital

  bag full of garnet liquid.

  Tara stared at him, fighting the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

  He stood for a few seconds looking at Gray. Then, slowly, he

  lowered his hand. “Ha ha,” he said. “Just kidding.”

  Gray turned on Tara, fury filling his face. “You! You did this to

  him! How could you pervert a child this way? What kind of monster

  are you?”

  The words hurt. Tara blinked back tears. “Gray, you don’t understand—”

  “Hey, Gray,” said Daniel, and when Gray turned to face him, he

  added, “Don’t you talk to my mother like that, you stupid prick.” And

  with that, Daniel shot upward and slugged him in the jaw.

  Gray dropped like a rock.

  Tara put her hands over her face. “Oh, my God.” She looked at

  Daniel, who was eyeing Gray’s prone body smugly. “What do we do

  now?” she said.

  “Can I eat him?”

  “No! That’s not funny,” Tara chastised. Thinking quickly, she said,

  “We’re taking him to Julian.”

  Gray drifted slowly back into consciousness. His jaw hurt. It took

  him a moment to remember what had happened, although the memory

  only confused him further. How the hell had a ten-year-old boy hit him

  hard enough to knock him unconscious?

  Then, a
round him, he heard voices. He opened his eyes and tried

  to roll toward the sounds, but he couldn’t. He was bound hand and foot,

  lying flat on his back, on the floor. He turned his head. Tara, Daniel,

  and Julian Cavanaugh stood a few feet away, talking. The room smelled

  odd, and the décor reminded him of displays he’d seen at the museum

  of ancient African art.

  “Where am I?” he said.

  The others turned. Cavanaugh looked at Tara, then stepped toward

  him.

  “You’re awake.” He dropped to the floor, sitting with his legs

  crossed. “How do you feel?”

  “Confused.” Gray slanted a look at Daniel. “My face hurts.”

  “Good,” said the boy.

  “Daniel.” Tara gave him a sharp look and shook her head, causing

  his grin to fade—but not completely.

  “Dr. DeAngelo,” Julian said. “We appear to have a slight problem

  here. I need to know if you want to try to solve it.”

  “Maybe if you’d untie me I could consider my options a little more

  clearly.”

  Cavanaugh studied him closely, then loosened the knots binding

  his hands. “There. Why don’t you sit up so we can talk?”

  “Feet, too, would be nice.”

  Cavanaugh looked over his shoulder at Tara, apparently seeking

  her opinion.

  “No,” she said. “He can’t be running off.”

  “He wouldn’t get far,” Daniel put in. “He doesn’t know his way

  out. Someone would eat him before he even got close to figuring out

  where he was going.”

  “Where the hell am I?” Gray demanded. “What are you people

  doing to me?”

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” said Tara. “We just can’t risk you

  hurting us.”

  “Could somebody please untie my damned feet?” When their three

  faces remained set, he let out a beleaguered sigh. “C’mon. I won’t run.

  I really don’t want some nutcase to kill me.”

  “We’re not nutcases,” Daniel said. “You just smell like food.”

  God, what a creepy little kid. Gray was beginning to think he was

  beyond any psychiatrist’s ability to rehabilitate. “Are you in on this, too,

  Cavanaugh? Have you been part of whatever horrible thing has been

  done to this little boy?”

  Julian looked grim. “What was done to Daniel was done a very

  long time ago. I had nothing to do with it. What we’re doing now is

  attempting to correct that wrong. You were part of the solution. You

  still could be.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If you promise not to run and not to try to hurt any of us, we’ll

  explain. Then you can decide what you want to do.”

  The sincerity in the other man’s face made Gray wonder, just for

  a moment, if there might be something going on here that he was simply

  incapable of understanding. Then he looked at Tara and realized, if

  that were the case and it meant she were innocent, then he wanted to

  hear their explanation. “All right. I won’t run. No point in making myself

  a meal on the go.”

  Daniel’s cold smile made him queasy. He’d seemed like a normal

  kid a couple of days ago.

  Gray’s attention shifted as Cavanaugh leaned over to untie his

  legs, saying, “Come with me. We’ll go to the office. Daniel, you might

  want to get going. Sunrise is in about an hour.”

  Daniel nodded and headed for the door. “Shoulda let me eat him,”

  he said, and grinned. Gray blinked at the long, feral fangs that had

  suddenly appeared next to the boy’s oversized permanent teeth. “He

  woulda tasted good.”

  “Daniel,” said Tara sharply. “Quit acting like a brat. If you’re

  hungry go talk to Dr. Greene.”

  Daniel looked abashed. “Sorry.” Hanging his head, he left the

  room.

  Cavanaugh helped Gray to his feet. “My apologies for trussing

  you up like a turkey. It seemed necessary at the time.”

  Gray had no idea what to say to that. So he asked the question

  foremost in his mind. “You’re a vampire, too?”

  The other man shook his head. “Technically, no, not anymore. But

  I was. And I can still do the fang thing.” He demonstrated. Up close,

  the long teeth looked wickedly sharp and brutal.

  “God,” said Gray. “This is freakish.”

  Cavanaugh grinned, the fangs retreating. “You’re telling me? And

  call me Julian.”

  Dazed, Gray nodded and followed him and Tara through a doorway

  that led to what he assumed must be Julian’s office.

  Julian took a seat behind the computer desk and dropped his feet

  onto it, next to the monitor. Tara motioned Gray to the small couch, and

  he sat. She sat next to him.

  “My ex-boyfriend was a vampire,” she said. “That’s how I found

  out about this.”

  “Not big on preamble, are you?” said Gray. “How the hell do you

  end up dating a damned vampire?”

  “First off, he wasn’t one of the damned ones, but I guess you

  wouldn’t know the distinction since you refuse to open your eyes and

  see what’s right the hell in front of you.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on your ex. If he’s so

  great, where is he now?”

  “He’s dead.”

  The very real anguish in Tara’s eyes left him speechless. She

  stared at him a moment, letting him see her pain; then anger flashed

  through it, and she looked away. “His name was Dominic. He was a

  nighttime deejay at a club where I used to go. We dated nearly two

  years before he told me what he was.”

  “Two years? There were no clues? Like the blood-drinking, for

  instance?”

  “He was nearly a hundred years old. He figured out long before I

  met him how to blend.”

  “We’re really quite good at it, if we try,” Julian put in.

  “Anyway, I was floored. I couldn’t believe it. But I really cared

  about Dom. He was a good man. So I decided to deal with it. He

  introduced me to this place, the Underground, and to the Senior, who

  ran things before Julian. It was a scarier place then, but when I saw

  the Children I knew I had to do something to help. So the Senior hired

  me to teach them.”

  “Teach them?”

  She nodded. “A lot of them didn’t even speak English. They had

  no idea how to blend in with people, and they’d been here for decades,

  some of them, never seeing the outside world. I helped.”

  “So you were like, uh, the vampire day care lady?” The story was

  getting crazier by the second, but at least it had its endearing elements.

  “I still am. Except now, with Julian’s help, these kids can become

  mortal again. That’s what we were doing with Daniel.”

  Julian dropped his feet to the floor, leaning forward into the conversation.

  “I wanted him to be absolutely sure before he accepted the

  procedure. The Children, as a rule, have very little, if any, memory of

  what it was like to be mortal. I wanted him to remember, so he could

  decide if he if he wanted to be mortal again.”

  “Thus the therapy,” said Tara.

  Frowning, Gray said slowly, “Okay. I guess that ma
kes sense.

  But why did you pick me?”

  “I told you. Nicholas recommended you.”

  “And how the hell do you know Nicholas?”

  “He’s here. I lied to you. He’s not dead. When his cancer progressed

  far enough to leave him with no hope, he chose to be Changed

  rather than die. One of the elements in his blood helps catalyze the

  process we’re using to cure the Children.”

  Gray took a breath to speak, let it out, shook his head. “This is

  crazy.”

  “But you know it’s true.” Tara’s looked implored him to believe.

  “You told me you wrote about it in your past-life regression journal.

  And you dreamed about it. You know the vampire part of is as true as . . .

  as the rest of it.”

  As true as Liam and Felicity, she was saying. As true as their

  love. He studied her face, looked into her eyes, her blue eyes that, in

  his memory, had once been green. In them he glimpsed possibilities

  he’d never seen in another woman. He could love her. She could love

  him. They’d done it once before.

  “This is part of my life,” Tara went on, her tone desperate. “If you

  can’t accept this . . .”

  “You mean, if I can’t accept that you’re the vampire day care

  lady?” His voice came out bitter. He’d been going for sarcasm.

  Her lips thinned in determination. He was relieved to see anger in

  her eyes—it was easier to deal with than the big-eyed, near-weepiness

  she’d given him a moment ago. “And I will be until all of these children

  are taken care of. They need me.”

  Gray couldn’t hold back a small smile. In an odd, surreal, freakish,

  deranged fantasy sort of way, it was endearing. “So you have a mission.”

  “I do.”

  “And what happened to this guy, this Dominic?”

  “He was murdered. Some self-styled vampire hunters figured out

  what he was, and they chased him down and staked him in the heart.”

  She blinked hard and no tears came.

  Gray didn’t know what to say, but he was saved from having to

  respond when Julian chose that moment to enter the conversation.

  “The people who murdered Dom were like you were back then,

  when you were Liam. Didn’t have half a clue what the hell they were

  doing. They just thought, ‘vampire—evil,’ and acted.”

  Looking at Julian, Tara said in a small voice, “Dom died three

 

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