The Vampire King

by Heather Killough-Walden

  *****

  “Three thousand years,” Evie repeated, allowing the words to trail off of her tongue. They still felt strange, though. She couldn’t wrap her head around them. “Three thousand years.” She knew she was just mumbling, but her head was elsewhere.

  How did an individual live three thousand years? How did they go from one day to the next and not wind up completely insane? In the mere thirty years she had lived, she’d seen so much death and sadness, the pain the planet had to endure often sent her into panic attacks.

  She’d read an article on women in Sudan that had left her sleepless for weeks. She curled in on herself a little more every time a kitten or stray dog took its last shuddering breaths. She hated the homelessness in the cities and the diseases that ran rampant through children, and she was only three decades old.

  Roman was three millennia old. What he must have seen in those years boggled her mind.

  “Three thousand….” Her voice trailed off this time. She shook her head and tried to swallow, but a lump had literally formed in her throat. Her eyes watered as she tried to get past it. “I don’t….” I don’t understand, she thought. And it was true. She simply couldn’t comprehend it.

  So she had to let it go. At least for now.

  What she could grasp and cling to was that along with the fact that he was old enough to have witnessed the fall of Rome, he’d just admitted something else to her.

  “Evie, I know that such a thing must be difficult to grasp,” Roman said as he gazed down at her with his stark eyes. “If you’ll allow me to, I can help you –”

  “And you’re the vampire king?” she said suddenly, focusing on that bit of startling information with everything she had. She watched as a strange look crossed his too-handsome features, darkening his expression and increasing the red in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?” she asked.

  Roman watched her in silence, and she felt the weight of that gaze as if it were a ton of bricks.

  “You never told me how many vampires there were in the world,” she said, recalling the details of his brief supernatural history lesson as they sat at the table in his private cottage in the magical cavern. Strangely enough, other than the most basic information, such as the fact that vampires were Offspring created through the union of warlocks and some sort of demon called an Akyri, he’d kept most of the information about vampires to himself. “How many are there?”

  “Thousands,” he told her softly.

  “And you rule over them all.”

  His expression darkened further, uncoiling a thread of uneasiness within her. He nodded, just once.

  “So… there must be a reason you are in charge,” she hedged, a part of her wanting to know what that reason was – and the rest of her not.

  Again, he nodded.

  “Was it a royal blood kind of thing?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Did they vote you in?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not as such.”

  “Then tell me why.”

  Roman straightened, and Evie could feel the aura of his power around him like static electricity. It was charging up. “The position of king is won.”

  “Won,” Evie repeated, her gaze slipping to his broad shoulders, his thick, corded muscles, his incredible height and stature. “Did you fight someone to the death for it?”

  “Yes.”

  A sort of leaden heat rolled through Evie, anchoring her in place on the bed. He killed someone, her mind told her as she looked up at the man standing over a mere two feet away. This was the real world, there were few democracies, and beauty was often a mask for evil. Roman D’Angelo was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. What kind of evil did that beauty hide?

  He killed someone.

  “I’ve killed many men,” Roman told her then, his mesmerizing voice lowered, his tone dangerously calm. Evie felt her lungs freeze in her chest – no air going in, no air going out. “And no, I’m not reading your mind, Evie. I told you already that I am not capable. Your thoughts come written in your beautiful, glowing eyes.”

  There was too much. It was coming at her too quickly again, too much information, too much insanity.

  “When you live as long as I have, it becomes a demand of survival,” he went on, taking a step that split the distance between them in half. “It’s kill or be killed, and that is the reason I decided to become king. I wanted to change the way the Offspring existed. I wanted to bring vampires to an age of peace,” he said. “And that is what I have done.”

  He moved as if he were going to take another step, and Evie found herself springing out of the bed and rushing to the side. She moved faster than she’d thought herself capable. She guessed that was what fear would get you.

  Roman, however, was not pleased. Though he stood still and deceptively calm, waves of upset magic poured off of him, licking out at her with unknown intent. Evie took another step back, inching her way to the master bedroom’s door.

  “You must know by now that I mean you no harm, Evie,” he said, his tone heavily laced with what sounded remarkably like pain. “Please don’t judge me by my age and the blood that runs through my veins. I know you. You’re better than that.”

  “You don’t know anything about me!” Evie cried out, not even knowing why she’d chosen to do so.

  He raised a brow. “I know you have been fascinated with vampires since you were a child. Your work says as much. Why do you think this is, Evie?”

  “I don’t know!” she yelled, feeling panic edge threateningly close again. Her chest was tight, her heart hammered, and dizziness tingled at the boundaries of her awareness. The witch, Lalura Chantelle, had cast some sort of spell on her to make it go away the first time, but fear was a relentless foe that was resurrected with the slightest provocation.

  Despite her mounting fear, something he’d just said niggled at her. She was just too upset to give it proper attention.

  “You were meant to enter my life, Evie,” he told her, taking that second step now and making up for the space she’d put between them. “And not as an enemy.” He shook his head. “When was the last time you read about one of my people doing some of the horrible things you have them doing in your books?”

  “Last night,” she said flatly.

  Roman came up short, blinked, and actually cracked a small smile. It was a sad smile. “Granted. Your timing stinks. Charles Ward is the first vampire to break any of my laws in thirty centuries.”

  “How can I believe that?” she asked. “How can I believe anything you say?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” he countered, taking another step. Evie’s gaze flitted to his shoes and she found herself backing into the door behind her. “What have I done to make you think you can’t trust me?”

  She had no idea. The truth was, she could barely think coherently at all. “I want to go home,” she said, meaning it more than she ever had. She wanted to take a long, hot shower and then drink ten cups of chamomile tea and watch twenty episodes of Doc Martin or The Vicar of Dibley, and then she wanted to find a Valium somewhere in her medicine drawer and fall into oblivion. That was what she wanted, and now that she’d considered it, it was almost all she could concentrate on. It was solid. It was routine. It was her world and she knew it.

  She clearly didn’t know anything else from Adam.

  “I want to go home. Please.”

  Roman D’Angelo, the Vampire King, sighed heavily through his nose. He shook his head, dashing her hopes. “You know that isn’t going to happen, Evie. The Hunters are still at large and Ward no doubt has plans to come after you.”

  “Those are your problems,” she said, her voice quivering. “This is your world, not mine.” She shook her head, her hands feeling along the door at her back. “I want out. My parents need me, I have obligations. How dare you just… just….” She didn’t even know what she was saying any longer. Her chest was hurting now and the dizzines
s had become strong. A wave of it washed over her, forcing her to lean heavily on the door at her back.

  “How dare I what, Evie?” he asked softly, taking another threatening step closer. “How dare I fulfill your dreams? Show you what you claim to have yearned for all your life? Is that what you have a problem with?” He took that final step that brought them together just as Evie’s hand found the door knob behind her. She ripped the door open, spun around, and flew out into the hall as if the devil were on her heels.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Where exactly are you trying to go, Evie?” Roman asked her from where he stood in front of her in the hall. One second, he’d been behind her in the room, and now he was there, blocking her path. He seemed deceptively at ease, his hands in his pockets, his head cocked to one side, his gaze narrowed inquisitively. Evie skidded to a halt and put her hands out to steady herself. She felt her lungs expand and contract too quickly, verging on hyperventilation.

  “I told you!” she said. “I have obligations!” She spoke without thinking, her mind concentrating on finding a way out – a way out of the safe house, a way out of Roman’s intoxicating presence, a way out of this waking half dream, half nightmare. But there was only the one hall, and behind her was the room she’d come from, and in front of her was the Vampire King.

  “Your parents have your brothers to rely on and will survive without you for a few days,” he told her, moving toward her once more. “Your readers can wait a while longer for their next book, and the animal shelter relies too heavily on you as it is. Your place is here, Evie.”

  Evie was looking over her shoulder at the door she’d just come through and wondering whether she could make it through the bedroom window when Roman’s words hit home. Her head whipped back around and her gaze narrowed. “How did you know about the shelter?”

  She’d never told him she volunteered with the animals. She’d never told him about her family life or her parents either. In fact, she had yet to tell him much of anything at all about her. Since meeting him, things had happened so fast – too fast. So, how the hell did he know any of this?

  “You said you couldn’t read my mind,” she accused. Her voice was shaking so badly, it was like listening to a bad actress in a B horror movie, only this time it was real.

  Roman D’Angelo stopped in his tracks and a look of stark surprise crossed his features. His eyes went from red-tinged to black to red-tinged again. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his hands came out of his pockets to curl slightly at his sides.

  “You lied to me,” she said.

  “No I didn’t,” he insisted softly. “I can’t read your mind.”

  Evie shook her head, trying to clear it. Her legs felt numb, as if they would bend beneath her any second now. If he wasn’t reading her mind, then how did he know the things he knew? “You’ve been watching me?” Did she say that out loud? Her voice seemed far off and muffled.

  She could sense that he was coming closer, but the world felt fuzzy. “Spying on me?” she asked, again hearing her voice as if through a tunnel.

  “Evie, I want you to sit down.”

  He’s been spying on me. For how long? she wondered. And where? When she was at home? Showering? Going to the bathroom? What else did he know? Why would he do such a thing? What has happened to me? she questioned. What the hell is happening to my world….

  “Evie, sit down now.”

  Something bumped the backs of her legs and they gave out. She hit the chair rather hard, and even as she tried to figure out why there was suddenly a chair behind her, Roman’s strong hand was on her back, shoving her forward. Evie bent at the waist, bracing her palms on her knees. This wasn’t her first rodeo. So instead of fighting the weight on her back, she let her head hang between her legs and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing.

  As soon as Roman was satisfied she wasn’t going to fight, he removed his hand. Evie was almost sorry for the loss of contact. It was exasperating.

  “You spied on me,” she said, her voice muffled because of how she was seated.

  “Yes,” he admitted easily. “I did.” No apologies, just a confession. Bastard.

  He was standing tall over her; she could feel his god-forsaken powerful presence pouring over her like some kind of infernal aphrodisiac. In his nearness, with his magic surrounding her as it was, the idea of him watching her suddenly did more than anger her. Against all common sense, it actually made her feel somewhat… cherished.

  Oh my God.

  It was even fucking turning her on.

  She moaned a little, shutting her eyes tight against the realization. It was wrong. He was messing her up inside. His world and everything in it was twisted. She needed out.

  “How dare you.” It wasn’t a question.

  Above her, Roman was quiet. Evie just breathed, her body trembling.

  “The moment I laid eyes on you, my world changed,” he finally said, his smooth voice caressing her nerve endings like silk. “You were standing in a parking lot, the street lights igniting highlights in your hair and reflecting off of the gold in your eyes.” He paused and she listened carefully. “You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. In three thousand years, I’ve been through peasants and princesses. I’ve taken the matriarchs of empires to my bed, Evie. For three thousand years, I was always the one in control. I could always walk away.”

  Evie felt that her breathing was under control now, and her heart had stopped hammering. But it felt funny somehow. She slowly straightened and looked up at Roman.

  “But you mesmerized me in an instant,” he told her. Very slowly, very gracefully, Roman lowered himself to one knee in front of her so that they were eye to eye. “I took to the skies with you and nearly forgot the rest of the world. You rocked me to my core, Evie. Your heart sounded like music to me. The smell of you, the feel of you in my arms…. It was magic.”

  Evie didn’t know what to say. She didn't even know if she’d be able to speak if she figured out what to say anyway.

  “I couldn’t let you go,” he admitted softly. All Evie could do was stare into those bottomless eyes and listen. “I watched you. I didn’t even know you, and yet the thought of anything happening to you in my absence was more than I could bear.” He shrugged and offered her a helpless look. “So I made sure I wasn’t absent.”

  “How did you know about my parents?” she asked, apparently knowing what to say after all.

  “I know a lot about you, Evie.” Roman stood then, and once more he felt closed off and intense, as if he were preparing for a fight. The feeling made Evie instantly wary again as well. “You were born on Halloween night thirty years ago. You prefer your friends at a distance, most likely because of your anxiety. I know you love trains and that every train in the world is on your bucket list. I know what kinds of music you like, what kinds of foods, and I know you have an impressively large array of boots in your closet.” He stopped, as if to take a breath, and Evie held her hand out.

  “Stop!” She demanded, her teeth bared. “How the hell do you know these things?” Spying on her would have shown him the basic routine of her every day life, but not this!

  “I don’t want to lie to you, and an omission of fact is the same thing,” he told her. “The truth is I can’t read your mind, Evie. Not now.” He paused. “But I could at first.”

  “What?” Outrage surged up within Evie, nearly choking her. She slowly got to her feet, her eyes wide. He followed her up. “You read my mind?”

  “Yes,” he said quite simply. Again, it was just an admission of guilt. Again, there was no apology.

  “You are unbelievable,” she hissed, and for once, despite her creative writing capabilities, she was unable to come up with an insult that would have suited the depths to which her opponent had sunk. “Oh my God, you are just unbelievable.” She turned away from him, running a shaking hand through her hair. “Jesus, I guess that means you know all of my dirty little secrets then, huh?” She thought of all of the things a
bout her that she wasn’t proud of. She wasn’t perfect. She had faults.

  She recycled, but resented how difficult it always was. She helped animals, but secretly couldn’t stand the way a stray dog smelled. She always glared at empty handicapped parking spaces when she couldn’t find a place to park. She swore like a sailor when she was alone, she forgot to shave for days at a time, and she rarely disinfected her shower.

  There were things about her body and mind that she despised, and the thought of Roman being in her head to hear those self accusations right along with her was an inexcusable violation of her privacy.

  And it made her hate herself even more.

  “I know that I care for you, Evelynne Farrow,” Roman told her. His voice had deepened, becoming commanding. It filled the hall with a kind of magic, arresting her attention and freezing her in place. “I know that every single thing I learned about you up here,” he tapped the side of his head with his fingers, “deepened my affection for you here,” he tapped those same fingers over his heart, “ten-fold.”

  He dropped his hand. “I can’t excuse what I’ve done and I won’t even try, but I wouldn’t take it back either,” he said. “In fact, if I could, I would do it again.”

  Evie stared up at him, lost for words and mystified. Why? she thought.

  “Because you fill me with a passion I’ve never known,” he told her, once more answering her unspoken question as if he’d taken the thought from her mind. “You and I were made for one another, Evie. You are so much more than you think you are. So much more than you know.” He shook his head, his expression suddenly taking on a bewildered cast. “I wouldn’t feel this way about you if you weren’t special. Evie, I showed you my cave!”

  Evie froze. She blinked. The indomitable vampire king looked different in that moment – vulnerable, innocent. His chest rose and fell with emotion, all too human. He was right, he had shown her his cave. The notion was undeniably deep, romantically sweet, and passionately perfect. It was also hilarious.