Dying Forever (Waking Forever Book 3)

by Heather McVea

  The two women laughed, and Ash sat down between Emma and Alison. Taking a long drink of her beer, she wiped the foam from her upper lip before speaking. “Where were we?”

  “The cold hand segue.” Alison wanted another drink.

  Ash looked sympathetically at Alison. “You look absolutely miserable, Ali.”

  “Ash. That’s hardly the tone to strike.” Emma interrupted and reached across the table, taking Alison’s hand in hers. “My hand is like Bryce’s, yes?”

  Alison’s eyes widened. “You know Bryce?”

  Emma nodded and quickly squeezed the startled woman’s hand before releasing it. “I do. How isn’t important now, but I imagine - given your area of study and the peculiar nature of recent events - you have a question to ask me.”

  Alison looked at Ash, who had already emptied her pint of beer. Between the whiskey, and the fact she trusted Ash implicitly, Alison found she had the courage needed to continue the conversation. “Are you a vampire?” She cringed at the word.

  Emma leaned back, gently swirling the half empty glass of Glenlivet. “Yes.”

  An audible exhale escaped Alison, and she grabbed the corners of the table to steady herself. Ash’s warm hand was on her forearm, rubbing it gently for reassurance. “Are you okay?”

  Alison tilted her head back and took a deep breath. “I need another drink, and then I can let you know.”

  Without a word, Ash hopped off the stool and disappeared downstairs. Emma remained perfectly still, her blue eyes studying Alison closely as she tried to gauge her reaction. Alison was having trouble making eye contact with the woman, much less conversation. The silence was verging on unbearable by the time Ash returned with another round of drinks.

  “I figured we could all use another.” She slid Alison’s glass over to her. “I got you a double.”

  Alison sighed, taking a long drink, the whiskey burning the back of her throat. “Perfect.”

  Ash cleared her throat. “Before we go any further, do you believe Emma?”

  Alison didn’t know Emma, but what she did know, what was undeniable, was what had happened between her and Bryce, next to a dark lake, three nights earlier. “Yes.”

  Ash’s shoulders relaxed, and she took Alison’s hand in both of hers. “There’s more.”

  Alison closed her eyes, the back of her neck and shoulders were throbbing from the stress. “Of course there is.”

  “I could try to explain it, but it might be easier if I just show you.” Ash looked nervously back and forth from Alison to Emma. The doctor gave her a quick smile and nod. “Look down, Ali.”

  Alison hesitated as her eyes slowly fell to where her and Ash’s hands were joined. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the room began to shrink around her. “What - what’s that?” Her voice was small and she wasn’t sure she had managed to speak at all, the tightness in her chest making it nearly impossible to breathe.

  “It’s a panda paw.” Ash stated matter-of-factly.

  “What’s it doing on the end of your arm?” Alison’s neck and face felt like they were on fire as blood surged through her.

  “A little less than a year ago I was attacked by a woman. She was a shifter.” Ash paused as she watched Alison closely. “She bit me and without going into too much detail, I can now shift into pretty much any animal of my choosing.”

  Alison’s eyes widened as she struggled to process the information. Looking down at the massive black paw that covered her right hand, she followed the line of coarse black fur until it faded into Ash’s tanned arm. “That’s impossible.”

  Emma cleared her throat. “It’s easiest to process if you consider it a type of genetic mutation or manifestation of abnormal cell growth. Over the centuries, vampires for example, have come to realize our - ah, condition - is most likely a virus with very specific symptoms and really nothing to be -” The horrified expression on Alison’s face caused Emma to stop the biology lesson. “I can imagine, though, how shocking it must be to see it up close for the first time.”

  Ash smiled as she reached for Emma’s hand with her human one. “Too much, too soon, sweetie.” Lifting the large black paw from Alison’s hand, the muscles in Ash’s forearm flexed and bulged slightly, the skin taking on a red flush as the black paw began to quickly fold in on itself. Within a few seconds, Ash’s long tapered fingers reemerged and the scent of burning leaves and dirt filled the space.

  Alison gasped and instinctively pulled back. She felt as if she had been suddenly and violently plunged into a twisted, warped fairytale. “I don’t think - I can’t.” She grabbed her purse and got up; her legs felt loose and weak as she stood.

  “Ali, wait.” Ash got up and quickly stepped in front of the frightened woman. “Nothing’s changed, you just know now.”

  Alison shook her head, unable to make eye contact with Ash. “Everything has changed.” Finally, looking up at the woman, Alison swallowed the lump in her throat. “How can you think otherwise?”

  Ash looked pleadingly at Emma, who remained seated. “Em?”

  The vampire slid off the wooden stool, her brown suede Cole Haan heels clicking on the wood floor as she stood next to Ash. “Alison, I’ve only just met you, but from what Ash has told me, you’re an intelligent and kind person. I trust that hasn’t changed in the past five minutes?” Emma took Ash’s hand in hers, a quick smile crossing her full lips. “Ash is exactly the same person you knew five minutes ago, and she’ll continue to be the same person you have loved and trusted for the better part of your life.” The doctor’s gaze was steady and intent.

  Alison looked at the beautiful woman in front of her. The sincerity and warmth in her blue eyes resonating with her. She did know Ash, and she knew the woman would never do anything to hurt her. Tears filled Alison’s eyes as she reached for Ash’s hand. “You know I’m not built for this.”

  Ash pulled Alison into a tight hug. “No one is built for this.”

  The tears flowed freely as Alison found some comfort in Ash’s embrace. A cool hand gently rubbed her back, and she knew it was Emma attempting to console her as well. “I think you’re more equipped than you might imagine, considering what Bryce said you did at the lake.”

  Alison leaned away from Ash and looked at Emma. “That was different. I-” She didn’t know why it was different, but in the moment, and in the countless minutes she spent thinking about that night, she had never thought of her actions as brave or extraordinary. “I was scared - not brave. Bryce needed help and I-” Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she couldn’t find the words.

  “You care for her.” Emma stated the obvious.

  Alison stepped back from Ash and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Yes.” In the end, it was simple. Bryce mattered to her; she didn’t know if she loved the woman, but she had cared enough for her to dive into a dark, lifeless lake to save her, and she would do it again in spite of what she now knew.

  “Why don’t I get everyone another drink, and we can continue this conversation.” Ash looked hopeful.

  Alison didn’t think she had the strength to continue, but her natural curiosity pushed her forward. “Okay, but no more doubles. My head is spinning just fine without the added assistance of alcohol.”

  ***

  Alison sat cross legged, nervously strumming her fingers on the arm of her chocolate colored sofa. She had been unsure what to wear for her and Bryce’s meeting. What’s the etiquette for seeing a woman I’m attracted to but who also happens to be a two-hundred-and-sixty-year-old vampire who’s friends with my ex-girlfriend - who’s apparently a shifter now and living with a hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire doctor? Emily Post missed this one.

  Standing up, Alison rubbed her sweaty palms down the front of her jean clad thighs and began pacing back and forth in her living room. She had opted for casual and after showering, had slipped into a pair of faded Gap jeans, a v-neck navy blue cable knit sweater, and a pair of brown leather Coach driving shoes.

  The pro
fessor had hesitated when Ash suggested she and Bryce meet and discuss the situation. Ultimately, Alison put her faith in Ash’s good judgment, and Emma’s reassurances that Bryce wouldn’t turn her into a midnight snack.

  The knock on the door halted Alison’s pacing. A moment’s courage.

  Alison walked toward the door and taking a deep breath opened it. “It’s you.”

  Bryce was standing on her front porch in a pair of dark slim cut blue jeans, an olive colored button-up cotton utility shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the brown leather Skechers Alison remembered her wearing when they first met at the museum. Her auburn locks hung loosely around her shoulders.

  “Did you have someone else coming over?” Bryce’s eyes narrowed as she was clearly confused.

  “No - I just thought - I mean-” Alison exhaled. “You look like-”

  Bryce frowned. “Like?”

  Alison rolled her eyes, irritated by her inability to articulate. “Shit. You look like you.”

  Bryce nodded. “I would think so.” She looked past Alison into the empty house. “May I come in?”

  “Right. God, sorry.” Alison quickly stepped aside. “Come in.”

  Bryce hesitated before taking the step across the threshold. Once inside, Alison shut the door and leaned against it as Bryce turned to face her. “If you would prefer to be out in public, we could-”

  Alison waved her hand in between her and Bryce. “No. This is - this is fine.” Stepping around Bryce, Alison walked toward the living room, trying to ignore the flush of heat to her chest as she inhaled and caught the scent of oranges and vanilla. “Can I get you something? I don’t have Bushmill, but I have some Jameson.”

  Bryce followed Alison into the living room and looked around the space, unclear where she should sit. “That would be fine.”

  Alison recognized the uncertainty on Bryce’s face and pointed to the love seat. “Have a seat while I get that.” The two women each took a step forward at the same time and nearly ran into each other.

  Bryce placed her hand on Alison’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I can go. You seem really nervous.”

  Unable to make eye contact with Bryce, Alison shook her head. “I’ll be okay.” Not waiting for the woman’s response, Alison stepped around her and walked to her kitchen.

  I can do better than this. Pouring Bryce and her two generous glasses of whiskey, Alison silently chastised herself for being so awkward.

  Carrying the drinks into the living room, Alison handed the glass tumbler to Bryce who now sat stiffly on the love seat.

  “Thank you.” The redhead took the drink and smiled.

  “You’re welcome.” Alison made a point of not sitting at the farthest end of the sofa, so she and Bryce were only a couple feet apart.

  After nearly a minute of uncomfortable silence, Bryce cleared her throat. “Don’t people usually talk about the weather when they don’t have anything else to talk about?”

  Alison grinned as she took a drink of her whiskey. “Yes, but we actually have a lot to talk about.”

  Bryce nodded. “True.”

  “Is that why you would ask me if that’s what people do?” Alison looked at the woman across from her. “Like when you asked me to go bowling and all the books and magazines in your apartment?”

  Bryce shrugged. “I’m not always sure what the right thing is or what the expected thing is. I’ve read so many books and magazines to learn what to say and not to say.” Shaking her head she frowned. “I must seem ridiculous to you.”

  Alison shook her head quickly. “Not at all. I don’t really know anything about it, so why would I judge?”

  Bryce smiled. “I appreciate that.” Running her long tapered finger along the rim of her glass, she chewed nervously on her lower lip. “I think I should start by thanking you for saving my life.”

  Alison’s mind had been awhirl with the vampire, shifter, the world is nothing like she had imagined situation that she had forgotten she had actually saved a person’s life. “I couldn’t let them - I mean you were in trouble -” Shaking her head, the blonde sighed. “You’re welcome.”

  Sensing her nervousness, Bryce transitioned the conversation. “Maybe you should just start asking me questions? You know, about…”

  Alison looked at the beautiful woman across from her and was pleasantly surprised that in spite of what she did know, she still liked Bryce. “Okay, are there any rules?”

  “How do you mean?” Bryce put the half empty glass of whiskey on the wooden end table between her and Alison.

  “Any topics off limits? Things you won’t talk about?” Alison shifted so she was facing Bryce.

  Looking toward the ceiling with a pensive expression on her face, Bryce shook her head. “Not that I can think of. And you?”

  Alison’s eyes widened. “And me what?”

  “Anything I can’t ask you?” A mischievous glint shot across Bryce’s green eyes.

  Alison swallowed. “I didn’t think you would have any questions for me.”

  Bryce turned and tucked her right leg under her so she was facing Alison. “I have lots.”

  Alison hadn’t imagined Bryce would be curious about her, but she knew it was only fair to be as open with her as Alison hoped she would be. “Do your worst.”

  “Speaking of worst, I want to start by telling you how sorry I am for what happened the other night.” Bryce nervously looked at Alison’s arm. “Have the scars faded yet?”

  Alison instinctively reached for her arm. “Actually, yes. I was surprised.”

  “There are enzymes in my saliva that both speed up the healing process and also aid in the flow of blood during – well, during the bite.” Bryce hesitated. “Anyway, I’m sorry and can never forgive myself for -”

  Alison shook her head. “Stop. I won’t lie and tell you I’m thrilled with what happened, but Ash and Emma explained it to me and I understand why it happened; so don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  Bryce looked down at the floor. “Thank you.”

  Relieved that part of the exchange was over, Alison pursed her lips. “Now, questions? Go.”

  Bryce chuckled. “You first.”

  Alison took a long drink of the Jameson and a deep breath. She had so many questions that she was drawing a complete blank on where to start. She went with the one that mattered the most to her. “How long has it been since you killed a human?”

  Bryce sat back as if Alison had punched her. “You get right to the point.” Alison didn’t say anything as she looked intently at the woman.

  Bryce picked at a loose thread on the love seat’s arm. “Nearly thirty years, and before - well, before what happened with you and I the other night, it had been nearly ten years since I drank human blood.”

  Pushing past the chill that ran up her spine thinking about that night, Alison continued. “Why did you stop killing people?”

  Leaning back on the love seat, Bryce rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

  Alison smiled reassuringly as she nodded. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

  “I had been - well, behaving badly, for the better part of two hundred years when I arrived in North Vietnam.” Bryce watched Alison’s face carefully. “I had always found wars and conflicts to be the easiest way of hiding my own carnage.”

  Alison’s eyes narrowed. “So, what you did could be shuffled in with the atrocities the humans were committing?”

  Bryce nodded. “Exactly.”

  Alison sighed. “Ironic that we’re capable of the exact same horrific acts and manage it in mass.”

  Bryce cleared her throat. “It’s been like that for millennium.”

  Alison shook her head and took another drink of whiskey. Somehow, she was feeling more comfortable. “I’m getting another drink, and maybe a couple of Girl Scout cookies. Would you like more?” Bryce nodded and handed Alison her nearly empty glass. “Keep talking.” Alison instructed over her shoulder as she left the living room.


  “I’ve seen many wars throughout my lifetime. The American Revolutionary War, the American Civil War, the Russian Civil War, the two World Wars.” Bryce took the now full glass of whiskey, along with a plate of Trefoil shortbread cookies, from Alison as she sat back down on the sofa. “I’ve seen the various types of war. Infantry, naval, cavalry, trench, chemical - and the list goes on.”

  “What happened in Vietnam then?” Alison could see Bryce was providing context, but was also stalling in getting to the point.

  “The intimacy of the killing.” Bryce looked down at her hands as she nervously rubbed her thumb and forefinger together.

  “I don’t understand.” Alison could see Bryce was distressed, and she fought the urge to take her hand and reassure her.

  “To that point, what I had seen was the masses being killed by the masses. Yes, there was hand-to-hand, but still in groups and for some purpose - rightly or wrongly.” Bryce closed her eyes and swallowed. “I had clearly been sheltered without even realizing it.”

  Alison couldn’t stop herself. She reached for Bryce’s cool hand and took it in hers. Looking down Bryce managed a weak smile. “This war was savage and encouraged the savagery. Children raped, men cutting other men’s heads off, blown up bodies, civilians hunted and massacred, dogs and cattle shot for fun. And that was before the bombings that wiped out entire villages.”

  Alison wiped at an errant tear as it trickled down her cheek. “You don't write about the horrors of war. You write about a kid's burnt sock lying in the road.”

  Bryce turned her head to the side and looked at Alison. “Who said that?”

  Alison grinned. “Richard Price. I listen to a lot of NPR.”

  Bryce nodded. “It was horrific. It brought into very sharp focus the entirety of my life and the pointlessness of it.” Bryce got up and turned her back to Alison as she spoke. “I couldn’t begin to tell you the things I’ve done. I was wicked, conniving, and vicious. My power was unchecked and brutal.”

  Alison feared she would say the wrong thing to the clearly vulnerable woman in front of her, but the truth found its voice. “I believe you, and I don’t want the details. Not because I couldn’t forgive you - that’s not my place anyway - but because there’s nothing to be done about it.”