He reached for a tumbler of whiskey to his right. Taking a deep drink, he waited for the whiskey’s warmth to settle in his stomach before continuing. I realized he’d been drinking more lately than when William had first brought me to the castle. I hoped that wasn’t my doing.
“You were less than coherent the other night, but I did manage to piece together a few sentences. I don’t know if you’ve made up your mind completely, but I think a small part of you must know what you want to do, otherwise, why would you still be here?”
“I told you. I have questions. I need answers.”
“And the only way you can make up your mind about him is if you get these answers?”
“Yes,” I answered, wondering what he was getting at.
He paused a beat, his eyes scrutinizing me in a way I found uncomfortable. “Why are you really here? Now, I mean.”
I opened my mouth to speak and thought better of it. I didn’t understand this line of questioning but I couldn’t be sure Seamus wasn’t talking to William every day, telling him all about my time here. I didn’t want him telling William anything that might hinder our relationship.
When I didn’t answer, he continued. “As I said, I told William I couldn’t get involved in whatever was going on between you two but I see maybe that was a premature declaration because I’m coming to believe if I don’t speak up, neither of you will ever do what needs to be done.”
“Go on …”
“While you were pacing and obviously ignoring me, I was saying it was easy for me to “come to grips” as you say with the killing because to the best of my knowledge, William has never actually killed anyone.”
I started to interrupt him, to tell him William had told me differently, but he stopped me. “Listen to what I’m saying Olivia, not what you’re hearing.”
“You said that William hasn’t killed anyone, but he told me himself that isn’t true.” I shook my head, suddenly feeling very sorry for the older man. I was saddened to discover I knew more about William’s life than he did. I was really sad to see I’d reached a dead end in my quest for knowledge.
“No, that is not what I said. You didn’t listen to my words. You of all people should know how important they are, the power they hold. I said to be the best of my knowledge, Olivia, William hasn’t killed anyone. I don’t know what William does or doesn’t do. If he has killed, he hasn’t told me. I don’t worry about it, because I don’t know about it.”
Ah, semantics. That, I understood. But …
“How can you go through life like that? Don’t you wonder every time he comes home whether he’s been out on a murderous rampage?”
Seamus took another drink of whiskey. “No, I don’t.”
I stood and made my way to Seamus’s whiskey cart. Pouring myself a full tumbler, I said, “Well, I couldn’t live like that. I would have to know. I need to know.”
“Why?”
My glass filled to the brim, I spun to face him.“Why?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Because.”
“That’s not a reason, and you know it. Why would you need to know?”
“Because I couldn’t be with him knowing he was out killing people.”
“But you already know he’s killed. Why would knowing the particulars change anything?”
“It just would!”
“Again, that’s not an answer. Why would you need to know?”
“Because I couldn’t condone his actions! I couldn’t sit idly by while people died just for their blood! I couldn’t sit next to him, wondering about all of his victims. Every time he came home, I’d need to know where he had been, who he had been with, what he had done!”
“And would knowing that information change anything?”
“Yes, goddamn it! It would!”
“How?”
“I … I … I don’t know. It just would.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that William isn’t out prowling the streets every night intent on murder. He’s never done anything in front of me that makes me lose any sleep at night. He’s a good man, Olivia.” He shook his head, as if he’d said something wrong. “No, he’s not a man. He’s a good … person.”
“How do you know though?” I sat down on the couch and dropped my head into my hands. “How do you know Seamus?” I asked the carpet.
“The question is, how do you not?”
Minutes passed while I pondered that. When I raised my head, Seamus had gone.
Finishing my giant glass of whiskey, I made my way back to my bedroom more confused than ever. I wasn’t sure if seeking Seamus out had been the right thing to do. In fact, I felt as if I had more questions now than I’d had before. The one thing I’d taken away from our peculiar conversation was that Seamus had no personal knowledge of William’s dark deeds. I’d wanted to ask what he knew about feeding, but hadn’t had a chance to since he’d turned my questions back on me. I’d been grilled just as much as I’d done the grilling.
It was like I was right back where I’d started. I started to wonder if it’d be possible to commit my life to William if he promised never to tell me about his hunting. No, I didn’t think I could stand knowing he was keeping secrets from me, even if it was at my own behest. If I was going to be with him, I wanted all of him—not just the sanitized parts.
That night I fell into a fitful sleep where I dreamed of dark alleys and women running away from danger they couldn’t see. Of faceless men and death and destruction. I woke with a start, my heartbeat ringing in my ears. The taste of adrenaline coated my mouth and body tingled with awareness. I knew beyond a doubt I wasn’t alone, but in the dark cover of night I couldn’t see anything beyond my nose. And yet I sensed him.
“William.” Nothing stirred in the blackness around me. “William, is that you?”
I reached over to turn on my bedside lamp but the room was empty. Alone, I eventually fell asleep with a heavy ache in my heart.
I spent the entire next day holed up in my room. If Seamus had been avoiding me, now I was doing the same to him. I didn’t want to see him after our conversation the evening before. I was also feeling on edge because I knew I hadn’t imagined someone had been in my room while I slept but I had no way to prove it. In my gut I knew it was William and I hoped he would return so we could finally talk about everything standing between us.
I tried to stay awake all night—I paced the room, listened to music, and even managed to finish a book—but in the end, I succumbed to my exhaustion. This time, my mind was filled solely with thoughts of William: his deep, melodic voice the soundtrack to my dreams; the beautiful face I knew so well staring back at me with open longing; his expressive hands imploring me to follow him. I was helpless to fight it. My dreams showed me the man I loved, the man I craved. I saw our life together and knew it could be like that, if only I would take the leap of faith. I saw our future and knew it was mine for the taking, if I would just believe. And in my dreams, I knew that I loved him, had always loved him, and would love him forever more.
I woke up the following morning, my decision made.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
William
My trip was a complete waste of time. Not only was Niamh off on some quest of epic proportions—with Niamh, they were always epic—but I’d had to lie about why I’d come looking for her in the first place so as to not raise suspicion. My half-baked answers had only provoked more skepticism. I hated dealing with vampires. We were the most suspicious group of people I’d ever met. Not without good reason, I had to admit, but it could still be a major pain in the ass.
For days I’d sat through countless interviews about how my business ventures were going and whether or not I was making any progress with the medical testing one of my companies was heading up. Since that was supposed to have been a top secret project I was surprised they’d known about it. I put in a call to my partner in that particular venture to find out who could have leaked the information, but hadn�
��t heard back. Which now had me thinking the leak had come from him.
Fuck.
It was hard enough as it was to find those capable of conducting the tests, but finding someone who also knew what he was looking for was damn near next to impossible. Vampires didn’t have a great track record with going to medical school and specializing in genetics or blood disorders. Too much temptation, I supposed. Clearly I’d misjudged Franz and would need to think carefully about who I brought in as his replacement.
Hmm … since The Council already knew about the experiments, maybe I could tap into their vast network of alchemists to help with the analysis. Lord knows they had more alchemists. Although maybe not. Then I’d have to explain why I was looking for the things I was. At least it seemed like Franz hadn’t revealed that much. While that might not have seemed like much, it was a bright spot in an otherwise very dark world and I’d hold on to whatever I could at this point.
It’d been three weeks since I’d walked out on Olivia. Three long, miserable weeks.
Seamus said he thought it was time for me to return to the castle but Olivia and I had a bargain. I was giving her space to make the decision on her own. But it wasn’t just space I gave her. I also stayed away because if I went back and she wasn’t ready to commit to me, I’d do the unthinkable. My instincts had been screaming to lock her up and never let her out of my sight. I knew to do something so heinous would only cause irreparable damage, but a vampire’s instincts weren’t always the most pragmatic when it came to matters of the heart.
Which was why I found myself laying in my bed, trying to talk myself into leaving, when I felt Olivia’s presence hovering hesitantly outside my bedroom door. I could smell the combination of her perfume and shampoo, laced with undertones of fear and adrenaline. I reached out with my preternatural sense to hear what she was thinking, hoping to understand what kept her from knocking.
She was tired of the isolation, both physically and emotionally, and annoyed with Seamus for not providing her with any actionable information about my activities or whereabouts these past few weeks. She was also frustrated and embarrassed for giving in to her desires the first night we met—thinking maybe if she hadn’t been so easy she might not have fallen so hard—but above all else, she was lonely and heartbroken that I’d abandoned her.
Of course she would see it that way, but what else could I have done? She had forced my hand. Did she expect me to starve? To give up that which kept me alive? Did she want me to waste away from malnourishment? She had me between a rock and a hard place. Physically, I would perish without the sustenance I got from blood—not just from drinking it, but also the act of hunting—just as assuredly as I would wither and die without her.
We were at an impasse. Briefly I wondered if the situation was all my fault.
Looking back, I could see it had been too easy for us to bypass all the crucial points normal men and women learned about one another to establish common ground. In the two years I’d been with Nadia, I’d never once sought out the same intense intimacy I had with Olivia. And if Elizabeth had seen me acting the love sick fool I was now, she’d be shocked. But finding out the love of my existence was close by had proven too much temptation. I’d known she would accept my love because it was what she craved most in the world. Truthfully, it was what I’d craved as well. And so I’d offered Olivia my heart, my adoration, and my soul, knowing full well she hadn’t understood the ramifications of accepting it, of accepting me.
I could almost understand why she couldn’t be with a monster like me and yet I wished sometimes she’d be a little bit more like other women I’d spent time with over the years: those who looked at me and didn’t see danger, but rather excitement; those who took my proclivities in stride, who found my animal instincts sensual instead of repulsive. But then, she wouldn’t have been my lovely Olivia if she’d been like those women, and I would have quickly tired of her.
Crossing the room, I told myself if Olivia had come to say goodbye I would do my best to honor her wishes.
I opened the door and she jumped, guilt written across her face. “You’re here?” she asked incredulously.
“It appears that I am.”
“Why?”
“Because this is my home. The same reason you are. Although, come to think of it, why were you hovering outside my room?”
“I wasn’t,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, a marked show of defiance I loved about her—both in ancient times and now in the present.
I raised my eyebrow. I didn’t need to read her mind to know she was lying. She’d once accused me of being an open book, but she was exactly the same. Every emotion was written on her face, flashed in her eyes, sang in her blood.
“And even if I was, why is that a problem? You weren’t supposed to be here.”
I couldn’t lie. The accusations stung. I wasn’t supposed to be here, had promised I’d stay away, but from what Seamus had indicated I thought Olivia might welcome my presence, even if I only stayed one night. Just one night to see her again, to hold her in my arms and whisper all the ways I’d missed her, all the things I’d dreamed of doing to her while I’d been gone. All the nasty things I’d fantasized about her doing to me.
I smiled, the look of a predator, as I recalled one particular idea quite vividly. Then, shaking the filthy thought from my mind, replied. “No, of course not. I told you my home is your home and I meant it.”
No matter what, Macauley Castle would always be Olivia’s home; after all, I rebuilt it for her without ever knowing that’s what I’d been doing.
“Right. About that. We need to talk.”
Uh oh. She sounded so angry and matter-of-fact that I really was positive she was going to tell me she was leaving. My body tingled with fear and I felt the effects of that dread to my bones. I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath, trying to hide my reaction, hoping she hadn’t noticed the change that had come over me. Once I was in control of myself, I stepped aside to allow her to enter my room.
“First thing’s first though. Why do your eyes change? And don’t tell me I’m imagining things. It’s in the portraits and I’ve seen it happen twice before and then just now. What does it mean?”
“Please, sit and we’ll talk.” I motioned her toward the leather club chair in the corner of the room, taking time to compose myself so that when I faced her I would look like a normal man and not a ravaging demon come to prey on her in the night.
“You talk, I’ll listen,” she asserted.
As Olivia stomped over to the chair I realized how much of her current behavior was false bravado. She was acting brave and strong but her heartbeat and the thrum of her blood through her veins told a different story altogether. Still, she had a right to an answer. For the first time, I realized how selfish I’d been demanding her commit to me without knowing everything she was getting herself into in doing so. Sure, I’d revealed the worst of it, but there was much more to being a vampire’s mate than turning a blind eye.
“I don’t know the mechanics of it, but as I age my eyes are taking on a more luminescent hue. They’re brighter, the colors more saturated.”
“And what about the glowing?” she asked.
I crossed the room to be nearer to her and perched on the arm of the chair, needing her proximity but knowing I couldn’t touch her yet. She didn’t flinch or move away, but her body language wasn’t all that welcoming either. I couldn’t afford to be offended because I needed the warmth that emanated from her to warm my soul, for her intoxicating scent to envelop me. I wanted to bury my face in her fiery tresses and never come up for air. I took a deep breath and let the cedar scent of her settle all around me. I could taste vanilla on my tongue.
“I don’t know why it happens. There aren’t a lot of doctors specializing in vampire physiology and the only one I know of just disappeared from my employ when I found out he was selling the secrets of my research.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” she said sympathetically a
nd I could tell she meant it. She was legitimately disappointed I’d had a set back in my research because she knew how important it was to me.
I reached over and caressed an errant lock of Olivia’s hair, putting it gently behind her ear. Her breathing hitched and her face flushed, a sure sign of how much I affected her on a physical level.
At the mention of of physical affectations, I remembered what we’d been discussing. “We’ve only been able to identify it as physical reaction triggered by deep emotions. Anger, fear, love, lust, passion, hate. Vampires feel every emotion rather intensely. Everything is magnified.”
“Does it happen to others?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but then again, I don’t spend that much time with my own kind.”
“Why? That is, why aren’t you part of a coven or whatever they’re called?”
“I’ve never been interested in leading what could be called a ‘normal’ vampire existence,” I stated. “At the beginning of our vampire lives most of us cling to our makers, sometimes for instruction, often for companionship, and usually always out of the blood bond that’s created between maker and child.”
Could she understand a bond that intense, I wondered? I knew I needed to tread lightly with my next question. I moved out of arm’s reach before asking. “Have you ever had a child, Olivia?”
She gasped, clearly taken aback. “What does that have to do with anything? This is your story, not mine.”
Was that fear I saw in her eyes? I couldn’t be sure since she’d turned her head to look out the window, avoiding my direct gaze.
“This is my story. Forgive me for the rather blunt nature of my question, but I was trying to explain to you how truly connected a master and newborn vampire are. I’ve been told it can be stronger than even the bond a human mother has with her newborn baby. I was hoping to give you a frame of reference for the rest of my tale. I meant no offense.”
Resurrection_Part One of the Macauley Vampire Trilogy Page 18