Eternal

by V. K. Forrest

  Fia looked at Dr. Kettleman. “It seems that Joseph has a little problem with picking up women in bars. He gets them drunk, convinces them to take him home, and then nearly kills them with his greed.” As the words came out of her mouth, she got a chill down her spine. It was like some weird flash of déjà vu.

  “So what I’m hearing is that your bloodletting with humans has possibly gotten out of hand, Joseph?” Dr. Kettleman asked calmly.

  Joseph looked at Fia in confusion.

  “You don’t really think I would see a human psychiatrist,” Fia said, deadpan. “She’s one of us. A second cousin.”

  Joseph looked at Dr. Kettleman more closely.

  The psychiatrist waggled a finger as if he were a naughty boy. “I’m sorry; we don’t use telepathy in this office, Joseph. It’s not conducive to good sessions. Here, we have to say what we want. We have to exercise our ability to share our feelings verbally.”

  Fia was still pondering the previous subject. “Joseph,” she said softly. “You asked me a couple of weeks ago about the Casey Mulvine case. Why did you ask me about her?”

  “I told you. I read about it in the paper.” He looked at Dr. Kettleman as if Fia’s question was ridiculous.

  “When did you get here?”

  “What?” He turned back to her. The smile he had worn into the office was gone.

  “When did you arrive in the Philadelphia area?”

  He turned his attention to the psychiatrist. “I don’t see what this has to do with why we’re here, Dr. Kettleman.”

  “Did you do it?” Fia’s voice quavered. “I know you were questioned multiple times for the attempted murders of at least nine young women in southern California. They had all had blood drained from their bodies, and they all suffered from erotic asphyxia. They were picked up in bars, just like Casey Mulvine. Did you kill her?”

  “Fia, how could you ask me such a thing?” He met her gaze, his cool voice suddenly full of emotion. “How could you jump to such wild conclusions? Of course I didn’t kill anyone. How…how could you believe me capable of such things?” His eyes grew moist. “You and I, we once loved each other. No matter what’s happened between us, how could you think that someone you loved could do such a thing?”

  Fia exhaled. He sounded genuinely hurt and guilt washed over her. Maybe he was right, maybe she was jumping to conclusions. He hadn’t denied the girls in California. And there, he hadn’t really done anything more than she had done, although after all these years, after all her experience, she knew how much blood loss a body could sustain, depending on the height and weight of a victim. Joseph hadn’t had that advantage of time yet.

  Dr. Kettleman looked to Fia. Waited.

  “I’m sorry, Joseph,” Fia said quietly.

  “You’re sorry?” he asked.

  “Sorry I accused you…” Against her will, her own eyes filled with tears and she fought a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry I accused you of being a murderer.” She forced herself to look at him. “And I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry that I did this to your life…that I made you a vampire.”

  He slid his hand across the couch and covered Fia’s, letting a moment pass before he spoke. “I just wanted to hear you say it, Fee.” He squeezed her hand and let it go. “You never told me you were sorry. I just…I just needed to hear it from you.” He picked up a box of Kleenex from the table beside the couch and offered it to her.

  Fia took two.

  “It’s all I wanted to hear,” Joseph said again, patting at his own eyes with a tissue. “I think that’s why I came back. Not because I really wanted to move here, Dr. Kettleman.” He looked across the coffee table to her. “But, because…because I needed closure. Does that make sense?”

  “We all need closure to certain events in our lives, Joseph. Especially traumatic events such as the one you suffered. What Fia did was very wrong. And she knows that.” She nodded to Fia. “And now, maybe through this apology, she can have some closure, too.”

  Fia felt like an idiot. For allowing Joseph to get her this worked up. For allowing herself to let her emotions get out of control. And there was a part of her still, deep inside, that didn’t quite believe what he was saying.

  “So, now that you have this “closure,” can you go now, Joseph?” Fia looked to Dr. Kettleman. “This isn’t just personal, Marie.”

  Fia made it a habit never to use Dr. Kettleman’s first name in her office because it helped the doctor-patient relationship to flourish. But sometimes…times like this, only another sept member could truly understand. So at this moment, Marie Kahill Kettleman wasn’t just a psychiatrist, she was also Fia’s second cousin on her father’s side. “This is about my job,” Fia continued. “Unsolved cases in the area cross my desk every day. If I saw a crime that I suspected Joseph had played a part in, I’d be placed in a very bad position. I would have to make the choice to either allow the humans to investigate him and put us all at risk, or take the matter to the sept.” She shifted her gaze to Joseph. “And neither would be good for him.”

  “I don’t have to put my office in Philadelphia.” Joseph lifted his hands. Let them fall to his lap. “We’re actually seriously considering Dallas and Las Vegas. I can simply tell my partner that the client base we’re looking for isn’t here.”

  “And that’s it?” Fia asked him. “You’ll just go?”

  “I’m sorry, too, Fia, for doing this.” He turned to her. “For all the trouble I’ve caused you the last couple of weeks. But I really do feel better.” He slid his hand toward her on the couch. “Don’t you?”

  She pulled her hand away before he touched it. “So it’s settled.” She looked back at Dr. Kettleman. “Joseph’s going to leave town and I’m going back to work.”

  “I’m sorry I was late. Sorry I missed dinner.” Fia sat down on the edge of the bed, her back to Glen. She wasn’t good at this. Not at apologizing. Certainly not at relationships. She didn’t know what to say to him. How to say it. She felt as if she was making a mess of things…and things had barely gotten started. What had she been thinking when she even considered a relationship with a man, and with a human, no less? Maybe it just wasn’t in her. Maybe she would never have anything more than glimpses of humanity in dark alleyways.

  She’d left Philadelphia earlier than she’d thought she’d be able to, but then there was a serious accident on Route 1, and she sat with her engine off for nearly an hour. Then she had to stop for gas in Dover. She ended up not making it to the Hill until almost ten, about the time Glen was paying his tab and heading out the door. They’d walked back to the B and B in silence. Glen hadn’t seemed angry with her. Just detached.

  He laid stretched out, in his T-shirt and pants, shoes off, his arm tucked under his head. He was watching the ceiling fan slowly turn. “Not a big deal. Your Uncle Sean and his brother Mungo kept me entertained.” He glanced at her. “How’d the interviews go with those boys? You get the impression they know anything about the murders?”

  So, Glen had asked where she’d gone. Uncle Sean had come through for her. Good news. The bad, though, was that now she had to either confess that she’d gone back to Philly for personal reasons, or lie about the interviews. Neither was a good option.

  Split-second decision. “The interviews ran longer than I thought they would. Actually, tracking down the boys took longer than I thought. Found out Derek’s mother committed suicide when he was a kid. Father’s a little distant, as far as his relationship with his son.” All true. She just hadn’t gotten the information directly through an interview. Fia’s guilt gland swelled. She’d never lied to another agent about a case before.

  “All three boys have a record,” she continued, leaning over to remove her boots, avoiding making eye contact with Glen as long as she possibly could. “Nothing serious. Boys-will-be-boys stuff.”

  “Got a tidbit from the lab this afternoon. Preliminary, of course.”

  She turned, not just eager for information on Shannon’s case, but
relieved to shift the conversation. If she could just get out of this, she swore to herself, she’d never lie to Glen again. “What’d they come up with?”

  “Soil on the shoes Shannon left inside the door matched the soil on scrapings from Mahon’s shoes. She was in the woods within a few hours of leaving those shoes at the door. Lab says there’s no way to know if the soil came specifically from the game preserve because it matches the soil in a pretty large area of the county, but I think the game preserve is worth revisiting.”

  Fia fought her disappointment. Of course Glen didn’t know it, but everyone in the town had soil from that game preserve on their shoes.

  But the soil was fresh. Had Shannon really been foolish enough to go hunting alone, even after the council had warned against it?

  Or had she been there for another reason? Was there a connection to the game preserve Fia was overlooking? Like that old adage about not being able to see the forest for the trees?

  She thought about the altar Shannon claimed she had seen. Had Shannon been hunting alone, or had she even more foolishly been out looking for the altar again? Shannon had seemed annoyed that no one had believed it was there, but as many people as they had traipsing through the forest after Mahon was killed, Fia would have thought they would have found it if it was still there.

  Glen reached out and massaged her shoulder. “I think you and I need to go back to where Mahon was killed and have a look around,” he said. “I can’t shake the feeling this means something.”

  If she and Glen were going back into the forest tomorrow, she’d have to give everyone a heads-up. Sept members almost never hunted during daylight hours, but she couldn’t take any chances if Glen was going to be knocking around out there.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She rolled her shoulders, tipping her head back, closing her eyes. “Yeah, fine. Just beat.” His fingers felt so good. The taut muscles in her neck and shoulders began to loosen up.

  Glen sat up, wrapping his legs around her, and began to rub her shoulders in earnest.

  She moaned. “That feels good.”

  He kissed the back of her neck.

  “That too,” she whispered, eyes still closed.

  The pressure of his mouth against her neck sent shivers of anticipation through her. Tiny, electric pulses ignited nerve endings in every region of her body. It fascinated Fia that Glen could touch her ear lobe with the tip of his tongue and she could feel it in the crooks of her elbows, on her nipples, above her navel…lower.

  As Glen kissed the nape of her neck, he teased at the hem of her silk T-shirt, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin of her abdomen. He slipped his hand under the shirt and brought it up to cup her breast. “Missed you today,” he whispered.

  “Mmmm.” She leaned back against him.

  He slipped his fingers beneath the underwire of her bra and she reached back and unfastened it. He cupped her breast with his hand and squeezed gently.

  It felt good to be in Glen’s arms. To feel the security of his entire body wrapped around hers.

  He kissed his way along her jaw and she turned her head to meet his lips. Tonight he had the smoky taste of scotch on his breath. Uncle Mungo’s influence, no doubt.

  She kissed him hungrily, wanting to possess, be possessed at the same time.

  Glen pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it to the floor with her bra. He drew his hand across her abdomen, his fingers lingering just below her navel. Teasing.

  She lifted her arms above her head, caught the fabric of his white V-necked Hanes, and pulled it over his head, adding it to the growing pile on her mother’s latch-hook rug. When she leaned against him again, the soft mat of dark hair between his pecs tickled her back. She rubbed harder, stimulating his nipples.

  His husky groan in her ear sent her pulse up a notch. She caught his hand and drew it down over the fabric of her dress slacks, between her thighs.

  “Here?” he whispered.

  “Right there.” Her words came out breathy.

  Using both hands, his arms still around her waist, he unfastened the hook at her waistband. Eased down the zipper. He took his time, his fingers applying light pressure to her sensitive skin, skin that was becoming more sensitive by the moment.

  When he slipped two fingers into her panties, her breath caught in her throat.

  “And how about here?”

  “There…” Past breathy now. Practically panting. “There’s good, too,” she whispered.

  He kissed her cheek and she could feel him smiling.

  Maybe she could handle this. Her thoughts floated somewhere above her. Maybe she could make it work. He was in no danger. Right now, blood was the furthest thing from her mind. She didn’t want raw, hard, rip-your-clothes orgasms. She wanted his embrace. She wanted to feel loved.

  Clasping her shoulders, Glen slipped out from behind her and knelt in front of the bed.

  She rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling almost intoxicated by him, by his touch. By his warmth. Humans were always so warm. “You don’t have to…” To her surprise, she felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “Of course I don’t have to.” He tugged on her slacks, taking her thong panties down with them. “Relax,” he whispered.

  She gripped his shoulders, meaning to push him away. This…it was too intimate. But then his warm breath brushed between her thighs and she felt herself melting. She couldn’t resist, even if she wanted to.

  Threading her fingers through his golden hair, Fia tipped her head back, letting her eyes shut. Everything faded; the tick of the ceiling fan, the overwhelming blue of the Starfish room…even the mallachd, the curse that haunted her.

  Fia leaned back until she rested on the bed, her legs falling over the side, Glen between her knees. Waves of pleasure washed over her. First gentle, then stronger. His tongue…his fingers.

  Fia moaned. Panted. Gasped.

  “Let it go,” Glen encouraged. “It’s all right.”

  “No. No, it’s not.” She sat up, only opened her eyes halfway. Tonight, for the first time when they made love, she saw Glen and not Ian. “I need you,” she admitted. “I need to feel you inside me.”

  Holding her gaze, he rose to his feet. She unhooked his belt and pushed his clothes down over his slender hips. Still half on the bed, half off, she lay back again, parting her legs for him. He placed his palms on hers and pushed down as he pushed in.

  Fia gasped, lifted upward, taking him in. Wanting every part of him she could have for the brief moment.

  “Fee…” he whispered.

  Tears stung her eyes. He sounded so…sweet.

  Fia turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut, using her legs to pull him tighter to her. Deeper.

  The moment of tenderness passed and he pushed into her.

  Fia could hold back no longer. Glen came a moment later.

  She vaguely recalled both of them crawling into the bed. Falling on the pillows, his arm comfortably around her. It seemed so natural to drift to sleep, naked limbs tangled.

  The next thing Fia knew, the room was dark and the clock beside the bed was glaring red at her. It was 1:17 A.M.

  “Sweet Mary, Mother of God!” she swore, easing out from under Glen’s arm and slipping out of bed, leaving him asleep on his stomach, his arms flung on either side of him. She grabbed her clothes and eased out the door. Tiptoed to her room, and hurried to get dressed.

  Chapter 22

  The council meeting. She was going to be late. Standing in her room in the dark, Fia hopped on one foot and then the other, pulling on a pair of jeans. She skipped the bra. Threw on a T-shirt and hooded sweatshirt to ward off the midnight chill. She was out the door and hurrying down the sidewalk in front of the B and B in less than five minutes.

  As she reached the street, she got a weird feeling and turned back to look at the dark, sprawling Victorian house. It was a moonless night, heavy with cloud cover. In the distance, she could smell rain.

  She threw back he
r shoulders, trying to physically shake off the chill.

  No lights burned in the attic windows. No curtain shifted. No one was there, but she couldn’t dismiss the feeling that something wasn’t right.

  Not enough sleep. Too many Alfred Hitchcock movies, she told herself.

  She turned around and bumped into something thigh-high on the sidewalk. The thing hissed and Fia practically jumped out of her skin.

  “Sweet Mary, Mother of God, Arlan! Do you have to do that?” She glared at the sleek tiger staring up at her with giant yellow eyes and twitching whiskers.

  Sheesh. You’re jumpy tonight, he telepathed.

  She stepped around the giant cat. “You would be, too, if you had a guy always creeping up behind you, looking like an animal that was about to eat you.”

  “Is that all I am to you?” He morphed into his human form. Tall, handsome, two-day-old beard. “I’m just a guy?”

  “I’m late to council. You’re late.” She kept walking.

  He followed. “Not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “I got the watch.”

  She glanced at him impatiently. He was wearing a flannel shirt and goose-down vest. “What watch?”

  “Human watch.” He tilted his head in the direction of the house.

  “Glen?” She walked on, her stride long, her footfalls heavy. “I didn’t know anything about a watch.”

  Fia had thought that settling up with Joseph would make her feel better, but now she’d just moved on to a new set of worries. This really pissed her off, sept decisions being made without including her. After all, she was a member not only of the general council, but the high council, as well. “Why are you watching Glen?”

  He stopped and glanced in the direction of the dark house. “I should get back on duty. You’ll hear about it tonight.”

  “I don’t want to hear it from them; I want to hear it from you, Arlan. What’s going on?”

  He exhaled, avoiding eye contact. “There’re some people wondering if he has something to do with this. Him showing up when the senator had already requested you.”