“I'm sorry he's been worrying.”
“Don't be.” Rowena's tone was reassuring. “He cares about you, Charlotte. It was natural for him to be worried.”
It was delightful to hear Rowena suggest Lucas cared about me – although I suspected as much, hearing someone else say it was a validation that I wasn't just deluding myself.
“I'll leave you girls to it,” Dr. Harding announced. “I'll be back to see you in the morning, Charlotte.” Rowena walked him to the doorway and they stood for a few minutes in deep discussion before she made her way back to the side of the bed, dropping gracefully onto the chair.
“Can I ask you something?”
Rowena smiled, the silver in her hazel eyes sparkling. “Of course, I'll answer what I can.”
“How difficult is it for Lucas to be near me? He says he's coping, but is it as difficult as I imagine?”
Rowena ran her fingers through her hair, considering my question for a few minutes. “I can't answer specifically for Lucas; I can only give you my perspective. All vampires thirst for human blood, Charlotte. Although I have learned to survive on animal blood, I can still smell human blood, but I make a conscious choice not to act on the scent. It's become second nature for me to do so.”
“You can smell my blood?” The thought had never occurred to me. I'd assumed from what Lucas had said, the sound of my blood created the temptation.
She smiled ruefully, clasping her hands together. “We can all smell your blood. Constantly. For myself, it isn't a huge issue; control came through many years of abstinence and taking care to ensure I feed regularly to keep the desire to a minimum.” She leaned forward, her countenance solemn. “For some of the others, it's a temptation.” She obviously caught the shocked expression that must have appeared in my eyes and hurriedly continued. “It's nothing to worry about, if we had any doubts at all, we would never have agreed when Lucas requested you stay here. It would be a different matter if your blood were spilled, because obviously the scent is heightened. But I don't believe any one of us would deliberately hurt you.”
“But Lucas finds it more difficult.”
Rowena inhaled heavily, considering her answer. “This is uncharted territory, Charlotte. It is impossible to know exactly how difficult this is for Lucas.”
“Uncharted?” I wasn't sure what she meant, why she'd chosen that description.
“Humans have only ever held a couple of values for vampires.” Her gaze was disconcerting, the way she was watching me suggested she was waiting for me to discover the implications for myself.
It wasn't hard to guess the first one and I felt goose bumps rising against my skin. “Food.”
“Humans are sustenance to vampires. Nothing more, nothing less. For the majority of vampires, humans are treated as nothing more than blood on the hoof,” Rowena explained matter-of-factly. “There are a number of reasons for it being that way, Charlotte. Not least of which, is because human blood is the perfect sustenance for us. What the others and myself are doing, while it is certainly a way to sustain our existence, it is not the norm for our kind. Most vampires feed from and kill humans without a second thought. But there are other reasons for my using the word 'uncharted' in regards to what is happening between you and Lucas.”
Her gaze shifted towards the window and she was silent for a long time, contemplating the water running along the riverbed below us. When she spoke again, her eyes remained on the window. “The second value is by far the more troubling. To my knowledge, no vampire has attempted a relationship with a human.”
“Ever?” The idea came as a shock. Surely, some vampire in the past had developed a romantic relationship with a human being. Were there that many vampires in the world, for them to participate only in vampire relationships?
As if she could read my thoughts, Rowena continued. “A relationship with a human has almost – and I hate to say it – insurmountable obstacles against it. Our strength is one. All of us must remain constantly vigilant to the fact that we are capable of crushing a human. With you, we must all be on alert and remember that what to us would be a gentle pat on the shoulder, would be enough to kill you, at the very least, to break a bone. When you consider that in the perspective of a sexual relationship between a man and a woman, you can understand that the passions involved create a recipe for disaster. Sex involves any number of emotions and passions, all of which can too easily cause people to forget themselves, not concentrate on everything that is happening around them. Passion could lead to deadly consequences in the case of a vampire and a human.”
I nodded, remembering the sound I'd heard when Marianne slapped Striker's arm earlier and the fight between Lucas and Ambrose out in the woods. The noise of their bodies colliding with one another had been incredible.
“So you're saying it's impossible?”
“No, not impossible. I can't suggest a situation is impossible, if it has never been tried before – there are no parameters for knowing if it could succeed or not. What I'm saying is that it will be difficult.” Rowena sighed heavily, her gaze focused on my face. “Charlotte, vampires have had sexual intercourse with humans countless times over the centuries, but that's all it has ever been. Sex, without emotion or commitment.”
I blushed furiously, alarmed by the sudden turn of our discussion. I had never been involved with a man, had never had sex with anyone. To be talking about it now, with a relative stranger, was awkward at best, discomforting at worst.
Rowena continued quietly, wisely deciding against mentioning my increasing discomfort. “Sex and feeding are closely intertwined for vampires. The physical orgasm is usually entangled with feeding and… death, for the human involved. I know Lucas tried at one stage to have sex with human women without being overcome by the urge to kill – when he was trying to overcome the need to drain our victims – but it wasn't successful.”
“He told me,” I responded in a low voice, stricken by the idea that any relationship with Lucas couldn't progress to anything more meaningful. “It's always that way?”
“It's had to be, Charlotte, for many reasons. There are a number of issues, but many of them are things you and Lucas should discuss with one another.” She patted my leg reassuringly and straightened up, seemingly determined to end the conversation. “And many of them are things that can wait until you are better, and you and Lucas see where this attraction between you may be headed.” She glanced up towards the window. “William has found Ben and Lucas and they are on their way home.” She drew herself onto her feet, her movements graceful and unhurried. “Try not to worry too much, Charlotte. All I can tell you is that Lucas will control this; he has incredible strength of will. He cares for you deeply and I'm certain you will both find a way of overcoming the problems involved.”
She left the room and I lay back against the pillows. Instead of concentrating on the disturbing conversation I'd had with Rowena, I tried to reflect on how I felt; now I'd opened up about my family. For the first time in nearly two years, I wasn't so convinced I wanted to die. I could see Mom again, examine her without the desire to shut her away and avoid the hurt. It was joyful to visualize her and see her in my mind, her beautiful green eyes so similar to my own. She wanted me to live, to be happy and move on from the horrors of the past and face the future.
A strange sensation blossomed in my chest and I realized it wasn't the complete desolation, which had been part of my life for two years. I felt… peaceful. I could see my brother and my sisters, hear the girls' voices clamoring for attention and felt whole again. No, not whole – that was the wrong word. I lifted my hand to my chest, feeling the steady thump of my heart and knew that although I would not be the same person I once was there was a chance for me to go on. My heart was no longer wasted with guilt and recriminations; instead, it was filled with love and memories of my family. And affection for my new friends. Rowena, Ben, and Marianne – they'd embraced me with open arms and I would never forget their generosity, their willingness to accept
me. Acenith, Striker, and Ripley – they seemed okay with me too. Their secret would remain safe with me.
And Lucas. He was in my heart and I loved him. I loved many things about him and couldn't imagine a future without him being a part of it. Despite knowing him for such a short period, it didn't seem wrong to feel such a powerful attachment. And yet - could it possibly work? He was vampire – I was a human. Was it impossible? No. Not impossible – as Rowena had said – nothing was impossible if it had never been attempted before. Just… difficult.
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
Lucas entered the room in an indistinguishable blur, no longer having to hide his abilities, he ran to the bedside, only coming sharply into focus when he stopped beside me.
He gazed at me for a long time, his eyes raking my face, his concern clear in his expression. I reached up to touch him and he closed his eyes, letting me run my fingers over his cheek and down to his jaw before he covered my hand with his. “Charlotte. I am so sorry—”
I placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. “There's nothing to be sorry about,” I whispered. “I know now that I couldn't move forward, without acknowledging the past. You've helped me to do that. You've kept no secrets from me; it seems only fair for you to know my past.”
He nodded thoughtfully, kissing my fingers before he curled them into his cool grasp. “No secrets,” he repeated thoughtfully. He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing the scars on my wrist. “Are you really okay?”
“I think so. I feel…” I probed my vocabulary for the right word, something that would explain the calmness of my thoughts, “relieved.” It wasn't the perfect word, but it would do. “I certainly don't think life will be uncomplicated now, but it will be more bearable. By holding it all in, and refusing to acknowledge it, I guess I've allowed the hurt and pain to grow until it consumed me. Now there's a chance I can face the future, without constantly wanting to end my life.” I flushed, embarrassed to admit my suicidal tendencies. It wasn't something I was proud to reveal.
“I'm glad. I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” He smiled tenderly, the silver streaks flaring in his eyes.
“What for?”
“For trusting me enough to tell me what happened. I understand how difficult it must have been for you.”
“It wasn't easy,” I admitted. “I'd never thought it would be possible to tell anyone, but somehow, I needed to tell you. Needed to lay everything on the line. You'd been candid with me and I needed to be truthful with you.” Plucking at the sheet with my fingers, I glanced furtively at Lucas from beneath my eyelashes. “Do they all know?”
Lucas nodded. “They were deeply concerned about what was happening. Jerome especially, needed to know what brought about your breakdown. It seemed impossible not to bring them all into the loop, and of course, they could all hear something was wrong. I hope you will forgive me for betraying your trust.”
“You didn't betray my trust, you're right. It's only fair they have an explanation for my behavior, after they've agreed to have me stay here.” I managed a faint smile. “I hope they don't think any worse of me, knowing I murdered my step-father.”
“That wasn't murder. He got no worse than he deserved,” Lucas responded curtly, his tone cold. “Probably far better than he deserved.”
We gazed at one another for a long time, Lucas still gripping my hand gently. He leaned over, bringing his face closer to mine, his scent making my head spin. He edged closer until our lips touched – the coldness of his at odds with the warmth of my own. The effect of his kiss was electrifying. I wanted to touch him, hold him, have him kiss me, and more. Much more. I wrestled my fingers from his grip, running them through his thick hair and pulling him closer. Lucas groaned softly in his chest, brushing his tongue over my lips and when I moaned, he swept his way into my mouth, his tongue seeking my own and suckling against it gently. I dropped my hands from his hair, gripping his neck and holding him tightly against me.
He captured my hand in his and gently unclasped my fingers, moving away. “I have to be careful with you,” he reminded me huskily. “I have to keep my desires in control.”
The intense yearning was obvious in his eyes and it was apparent how difficult pulling back was for him, how hard he found it to release me. Lying back against the pillows, I could feel my heart racing and my nipples throbbed against the silky material covering them, leaving me wanting so much more.
Lucas slumped into the chair next to the bed, still holding my hand. He grinned and I returned his smile. We were both keenly aware of how big an achievement it had been for him to release me, how much self-control he'd had to administer, to keep his natural instincts in check.
To lighten the mood a little, I decided to distract him. “So, I have some more questions,” I began.
“What would you like to know?”
“Why do you smell so good?”
“It's another aspect of being vampire; my scent is designed to entice my victims, to attract them.”
“You don't always smell the same to me.”
Lucas smiled. “Pheromones create the scent, something that will most appeal to the human I'm with at the time, dependent on what will lull them into relaxing.”
“How do you know what will have the right effect?”
“Years of instinct.”
“It certainly works,” I pointed out.
“It's pleasant to know that at least one of my evil powers works on you,” Lucas responded dryly.
“I've seen some vampire movies in my time,” I continued, stealing a look at him to gauge his reaction. He remained impassive, although one dark eyebrow rose in question. “How come you don't wear the tuxedo and the black silk cape?”
To my delight, it had exactly the effect I'd hoped it would. He burst into laughter, throwing his head back and chuckling. “It's a myth. Do I look like George Hamilton to you? It would be extremely ineffective when we are trying to be incognito in the community, don't you think?”
His reaction encouraged me. “What happens to your fangs when you aren't using them?” Whenever he smiled, his teeth looked perfectly normal, there wasn't the slightest hint that they were in any way different to my own.
“Retractable. Again, it would be exceedingly difficult to remain incognito, if our fangs were perpetually on display for all to see.”
“Do you need to breathe?”
“Not if I don't want to. We go through the motions, so we appear human.”
“Really?”
He smiled again. “Really.”
“What about things which are supposed to repel vampires? Garlic?” He shook his head. “Crosses?”
Another firm shake of his head followed, and he grinned at me, obviously amused by my naïve line of questioning. “All myths,” he announced firmly.
“Silver?”
“Why the sudden interest? Are you planning on killing me?” He questioned with an easy smile. “Another myth. Silver has no effect on us. In fact, Rowena prefers silver jewelry over gold, and wears it often.” He squeezed my fingers. “And before you ask, wooden stakes are an urban legend as well.”
“They're all legends? How did that come about?”
Lucas shrugged. “We needed ways to protect ourselves from humans. I have always assumed these myths were begun by vampires, thousands of years ago, a way to shield ourselves.”
My curiosity was piqued and the next question I asked was no longer in jest. “What can kill you?”
Lucas evidently understood the questioning had grown serious and paused to consider his answer. “Almost nothing.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Nothing?”
“We are virtually indestructible. The only way to kill a vampire is to decapitate him, then destroy the head and body with fire. Probably a good thing, given we're immortal.”
Ignoring the reminder of his killing Ambrose, I focused instead on the idea of immortality. This thought hadn't occurred to me before and I turned the idea around
in my head, examining it from all sides. Recalling the conversation I'd had with Rowena, she'd told me she was born in 1852. I looked at Lucas. “How old are you – really?”
His expression didn't alter, but the grip against my fingers tightened imperceptibly, as if he feared my reaction. “I was born in 1842, ten years before Rowena.”
The lungful of air I'd been holding exhaled with a quiet whoosh, tugging sharply at my ribcage. “1842,” I repeated vacantly.
“Yes.”
A dozen thoughts crossed my mind, one after the other, as I digested this answer. His gaze never left mine while he waited for a reaction.
“Okay.” It was all I could manage, even though it didn't even begin to cover the thoughts racing through my mind.
He raised his eyebrows at my lukewarm reaction, his expression unfathomable. “I was born in Chicago in 1842, to Irish immigrants named Patrick and Mary Tine. I had four brothers and five sisters. We lived in the slums of Chicago, and when I was twenty-four, my younger sister Margaret contracted cholera. There was a mini epidemic in the United States in 1866, and one by one, my family contracted the disease. We had no idea we had gotten the disease by drinking contaminated water from the water pump we relied on – those sorts of things weren't understood at the time.” He paused briefly, the memory evidently troubling him. “It was a terrible disease, we suffered dismally from vomiting, and diarrhea and you got so dehydrated, all you wanted to do was drink; the thirst was terrible. Of course, we drank gallons of the water, which was contaminating us in the first place. My family died, every single one of them, until only I was left. I was alone and so very ill, there was no real treatment at the time and many people were sick. Dozens died across Chicago, every day.”
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
“I knew I was going to die. I waited for it, wished for it – but it didn't happen. After a few days, I crawled from the slum and out into the street below, desperate to find help, but I collapsed in the alley. That's where Florien found me.”
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