The Vampire King

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The Vampire King Page 8

by Heather Killough-Walden


  A spell….

  The world darkened a little, and Evie felt that muddy slope beneath her once more. She thought of the parking lot and the horse-drawn carriage. She could even hear a crashing sound as the image became more real. “And the first time?” she asked, her voice having dropped into little more than a whisper. “With the horses?”

  Roman hesitated. It was a damning pause.

  “The first time I rescued you, we flew.”

  *****

  Roman didn’t understand why it was happening, but as Evie had slept off the effects of his trance, her memory fought the influence of his wiping spell, each past event surfacing with fierce stubbornness. Little by little, her subconscious won the battle for control of her mind, and within a few short hours, Roman was no longer able to decide what she remembered about the last two days. The images were there, clear as day, for her to re-assemble and witness.

  There was nothing for it now but to tell her the truth. Roman was the most powerful vampire on the planet. He’d walked the Earth’s surface since before most cultures had recorded history. There was not supposed to be a human soul alive who could withstand his power.

  But Evie could. She was remembering things now – and that wasn’t all. Little by little, her aura became stronger, blocking his waves of influence like a shield. Who the hell was she that she could do this? And why…. Why did it have to be her? Why now? When she needed his help the most?

  Fear churned her stomach; he could feel her discomfort as if it were his own. He didn’t know how this was possible when he’d already pulled out of her mind and she’d shaken off his influence without even trying to do so. But he could nonetheless. It was making her sick inside, this chaos of confusion, and because she was withstanding him, he could do nothing about it.

  Not unless she wanted him to. Not unless she let him in and dropped her shields.

  Her suffering was eating him up inside just as surely as if it were his own. It was draining him like nothing else had in a long time. It had been a while since he’d fed. He’d been busy with issues regarding hunters and werewolves and meetings – and then he’d spent every possible moment he could with Evie. Even as his angst for Evie’s discomfort grew, so did his hunger for her. It was an extremely volatile situation.

  And now he could feel her anxiety ratchet up a notch. He could almost hear the tight twang of her rope of sanity as it pulled taut and threatened to break. She was a level-headed girl, and everything he was presenting her with made no sense, not in her world. Not according to everything she had learned for the last thirty years.

  Suddenly, Evie ran a hand through her hair and he noted that the hand was shaking badly. She cocked her head to one side, broke eye contact, and took a rather stiff step to her right. She looked down at the ground.

  “Unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “Absolutely unbefuckinglievable.” She began to pace then, and Roman was tempted to push as hard as he could to get past her newly developed defenses so that he would know exactly what was going on inside her head. He felt helpless and that was brand new for him. It was like being behind the wheel of a very large vehicle with no brakes.

  “My whole life, I fantasized about people like you, you know that?” Her voice was pitched a touch higher than normal as she turned and began pacing quickly in the opposite direction. “I wrote about you, dreamed about you, and believe you me, I wished and wished and fucking wished that you were real. It would have been so nice to know that there was magic in the world and that I wasn’t holding out for nothing.” She shook her head again, put her hands on her hips, and turned around once more, pacing a fast line back and forth.

  She laughed harshly. “My mother told me I was too picky, my brother called me a shrew, and half of my high school class was positive I was gay because I just couldn’t be bothered to get into the boys around me.” She threw up her hands, spun, and paced again. “They were so damned human!” She laughed, louder this time. “And me, in my idiotic hold-out for something more, was bored stupid by humans!”

  She turned on him then, her brown-gold eyes flashing into a striking amber with her anger. “Why do you think I write?” she asked, as if she were actually expecting him to answer – which she wasn’t. “Why do you think I nearly flunked out of high school because all I could do was write story after story about people who were more than human?”

  She spun away from him, making a loud sound of stark frustration. “God!” she said. “I begged the world to send me something different so many times! I lamented the fact that there was nothing better to life than reality!”

  Her voice shook, and Roman could sense that she was on the verge of tears. His chest felt tight and his fingers twitched. His fangs were fighting to erupt in his mouth.

  “But nothing came! Nothing magical ever happened!” She whirled on him again, the amber in her eyes now nearly yellow. Roman had the instant impression of heat, as if Evie were warming up, not just emotionally but magically. That otherworldliness about her that he’d sensed before was amplified. He felt it coming off of her in waves much like others could sense his own power. It was alarming.

  Impressive, but alarming. He feared an oncoming fight, a real one. And because he had no idea what it was he was up against, and because he could never bring himself to harm Evie Farrow, for the first time in his life the Vampire King wondered whether he would win.

  “And that’s the worst tragedy of all,” she said next, spearing him with those powerful, golden eyes. “You filled me with hope and then dashed those hopes again and again.” Roman saw the moisture fall from beneath her left eye – one tiny but significant tear drop. “You let me believe against hopes. You may as well have just killed me.”

  Never, he thought.

  She shook her head, and the speed of it gradually slowed. He could feel a change come over her then, as if reality were once more settling in and she was out of mental defenses to keep it at bay.

  “What… are you, anyway?” she asked next, her voice once more very quiet. She hugged herself, and Roman knew it wasn’t because she was cold.

  She stared up at him for the longest time and the silence between them stretched. Roman felt the world stop, the Earth’s heart stilling in its chest as it waited for him to reply.

  A pulse of fate beat loud in his eardrums as he took a breath and said the words he had never before uttered to a human. “I’m a vampire.”

  Chapter Nine

  Roman had read all of her novels, so he knew well that the vampire was her favored literary character. As he’d read, the idea that she liked vampires had filled him with a mixture of pride and hope. It had been interesting, intriguing, and a little amusing. What he had completely missed and failed to consider was that there might be a reason for this fascination of hers.

  Her descriptions of a vampire’s emotions, of his or her inner trials and tribulations, were amazingly astute. He’d chalked it up to the characteristics of a good author, but she seemed to understand things about vampires that a human shouldn’t – such as their hunger, their urges, and their ultimate loneliness.

  Now, as he gazed down at her small, precious form and saw the desperation in her nearly glowing eyes, he had no choice but to believe there was something more to it. He felt odd about her and had since he’d first witnessed her in his dreams. He felt obsessed, painfully and desperately interested. And this was the way she’d felt about his kind for most of her life.

  Desperately interested.

  There was a reason this was happening. There was a reason she was who she was and had done what she’d done with her life. There was a reason he literally couldn’t take her off of his mind for more than a second and didn’t want to leave her side for anything.

  It was plainly evident, both in the way he now lacked control over her and in the growing supernatural qualities of her petite form. Evelynne Grace Farrow had lived the life of a human for thirty years. But she wasn’t a human. Not fully.

  She seemed to stare u
p at him forever, and he had no idea what she was thinking. Finally, she repeated his words, and her tone was enigmatic. “A vampire.”

  Roman could only nod, just once.

  “Show me,” she said, and her gaze slipped to his lips. He knew what she was asking. It was what anyone would ask. A vampire’s fangs were quintessential. He allowed them to fully extend, and then bared them, all the while watching her reactions with hawk-like eyes – and fearing the worst.

  Evie looked at his fangs, her expression still mysterious. He saw her swallow hard, normally an indication of fear. But she didn’t try to back up, and she offered no other evidence of a mounting sense of terror. Instead, she looked back up into his eyes and asked, “Are you going to kill me, Roman?”

  Roman experienced a horrified moment of disbelief. He opened his mouth to answer, but she went on before he could.

  “Because it doesn’t make any sense that you would save me twice just to kill me.”

  Again, Roman opened his mouth to answer, and again she interrupted before he could speak.

  “And I gotta tell you that it would totally ruin my image of you if you went all psycho on me and started ripping me limb from limb.” Her pitch of her voice had risen a little again, indicating that once-more rising fear he knew he had sensed.

  It was now clear to Roman that she actually continued to talk because she was afraid of what he was going to say. She wanted to know if he was going to kill her – and she also really didn’t.

  This time, he cut in before she could do so to him. “Not for anything would I hurt you, Evie. I thought I made that clear.”

  Evie licked her lips, the act drawing his gaze to her mouth. It was a nervous gesture on her part, but it didn’t help to quell his growing hunger. She ran her hands over her jeans again, another nervous habit. And then she asked, “Can you read my mind?”

  He almost laughed. At least he could be honest with her about that.

  “No.”

  It was another long moment before she spoke again. She seemed to be gauging everything he did and said, working something out in her head.

  “What do you want with me?”

  That was the question of the century. He had no idea what to tell her that wouldn’t scare the shit out of her. He wanted….

  To lay you out on my bed.

  “I want to help you,” he said. At least that was the truth, even if by far it wasn’t the whole truth.

  Evie’s honey-colored gaze narrowed. She didn’t believe him. It had been a very long time since someone had not believed him. Though he couldn't blame her; he didn’t believe him either.

  “You want to help me.” She straightened a little, still visibly trembling but somehow regaining her wits.

  Roman knew she didn’t understand. How could she when he didn’t understand himself? He showed her his open hands in a gesture of well-meaning and said, “I don’t know why, but I’m drawn to you. It’s why I was able to save you, Evie.” He took another step forward, unable to help himself. The distance between them was just too far and it was driving him a little nuts. “I was there when danger struck because I couldn’t stand to be far from your side.” He paused when a look of panic floated across Evie’s beautiful face. “I think it has something to do with what you are,” he said softly.

  Evie took a step back and Roman’s heart sank. “And what exactly would that be?” she asked, her tone still clearly frightened, despite her obvious strength of character. “Human?”

  Roman waited a moment. And then he shook his head. “I don’t believe you really are, Evie.” He paused. “Human.”

  “You’re insane,” she said suddenly. Roman might not have been able to delve into her mind, but his hearing was still top rate, so he caught the sound when her pulse quickened and began to race. “You’re one of those crazy guys who gets fang implants, aren’t you. I don’t know how you managed to mess with my mind – hypnotism? Or did you just knock me out with some kind of drug?” She exhaled shakily and shook her head. “Oh man, I almost believed you – Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? I must still be drugged up. I almost fell for your bullshit. But you messed up here, Roman.” She said his name with clear distaste and anger. “When you suggested I was anything but human. Because if I were Superwoman, I sure as hell wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “Evie –”

  “No!” she yelled, holding up her hand as if to stop him. “My name is Evelynne,” she said. She swallowed, her eyes went to his mouth, where he’d hidden his fangs behind his lips. Then their beautiful gold skirted to his shoulders – broad and possibly frightening to her. She shifted from one foot to the other. “Evelynne,” she repeated.

  And then she blinked. Her gaze narrowed again and flew back up to his eyes. “Wait. How did you know people call me Evie?”

  Roman swore internally. This wasn’t going well at all. He was going to have to nip this deteriorating exchange in the bud.

  She wanted proof?

  Fine. He would give it to her.

  With all of the speed his supernatural form was capable of producing, Roman shot forward, wrapped his arms around Evie, and spoke the word that would transport them out of the room. It happened so fast, Evie didn’t fully realize what he had done until they were re-materializing at his destination, and he was letting her go.

  She stumbled for a moment, her breath catching, her heart hiccupping with shock, and then stared at him with wide eyes. “What… Oh my God, what did you just do?”

  “This is the transportation spell I was telling you about.”

  Evie’s eyes remained wide and her breathing fast. She turned in an unsteady circle to survey their surroundings.

  Roman watched her small, shaking form take it all in, and then his own gaze skirted to the world around him. It was one of his favorite places in the world. It encompassed everything he loved about life, and nothing he didn’t. He had created it himself – and no one else on the planet knew it existed.

  The cavern was enormous, stretching the length of two football fields, its ceiling so high up, it was barely visible. Bioluminescent mushrooms, algae, and even flower blooms that had yet to be named by science carpeted the ceiling and part of the walls, shedding enough light to mimic the sun just before twilight. A waterfall against one wall poured fresh, clean drinking water into a river that ran through the center of the cavern. That crystal clear river divided the cave’s ground into what appeared to be islands. Each rounded island was connected by small wooden bridges.

  The bridges were intricately carved as if by expert hand. Some possessed ropes of flowers twined around their railings. Others were graced with gas lights that flickered invitingly. Each separate island possessed a single tree growing from its thick bed of shamrocks or moss. The branches of these trees stretched over their islands like Banyan tree benches, waiting to be climbed and rested upon. The buds on these branches were brightly colored, and some contained sweet, refreshing fruit that Roman knew no human had ever tasted. As a vampire, he didn’t need to eat such things, but a part of him had always enjoyed the flavors of the mortal world. These were his own creation, a combination of his favorite fruits in one.

  The air in the cavern was the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold. The waterfall provided a far-off static, the rivers babbled and flowed at a constant, calming pace, but most inviting of all was the small thatch-roofed cottage that rested upon the biggest island. It was impossible to tell from the outside, but Roman knew that it was two-story. A tiny kitchen, dining set, and rocking chairs occupied the first floor. A winding wooden staircase led to a loft, and in that loft was Roman’s sleeping place.

  There were two fire places in the cottage, one on the first floor and one on the far wall of the loft. Smoke curled from the single chimney, in the cottage’s roof, but the air in the vast cavern remained magically pure and fresh.

  All along the walls, crystals of various colors and size grew and glimmered, dressing the cave in what looked like gemstones. Some of th
em were gemstones, both precious and semi-precious.

  It was a magical place, to say the least. It was born of magic, of spell upon spell upon spell, layered over the course of thousands of years. It had taken Roman countless lifetimes to create the place he stood in at that moment. And never, not in all of that time, had he even considered bringing another being into it with him.

  Not until now.

  He turned his gaze from the cavern he’d hidden from the world, and looked down at the woman he’d finally shared it with. She had gone very still, her breath barely audible over the babbling of the various brooks and the distant roar of the falls. She was turned away from him at the moment, but very slowly, she came full circle – and finally looked up at him.

  “Where are we?”

  “This is my home,” he told her. “My real home.”

  She glanced around again, her gold-touched eyes still wide with awe. Her mouth was open, her expression bewildered. She shook her head a little. “I’ve never….” She stopped, swallowed, and then did the most wonderful thing Roman had ever seen. She smiled. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life,” she whispered, looking back up at him once more.

  Roman exhaled, only then realizing that he’d been holding his breath since they’d rematerialized in the cavern. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

  She waited, gazing up at him, her lovely features filled with child-like fascination.

  “Because I’ve never shared it with anyone before,” he told her. “You’re the first.”

  She turned a full circle in place, clearly overwhelmed by what she was seeing. And then she shook her head. “The first?”

  “In the thousands of years I have existed, Evelynne, I have never felt about a woman what I feel for you. And that’s why you’re here.”

 

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