Claimed by a Vampire Page 5
She gasped, because all of a sudden, so fast she couldn’t believe it had happened, Creed was standing in front of her. “How did you do that?” she whispered.
“It’s easy,” he said tautly. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of myself.”
Her jaw dropped open. “How… What…?”
Terri came close. “The key to your apartment? Jude and I will leave you to discuss this.”
Creed answered without ever taking his eyes from Yvonne. “She left it on the étagère by the bedroom door.”
How had he remembered that? She hadn’t even remembered that. And why were his eyes no longer golden? Why did they look as dark as the depths of hell?
And why couldn’t she look away from him? It was as if the entire universe had narrowed to his eyes. She barely heard the other two leave.
“Yvonne. I’m going to tell you something. I’m going to tell you because I loathe lying, so once, just once, I’m going to tell you the truth. You’re not going to believe me. And then when you don’t, I’m going to try to make you forget I told you.”
“Why?” Her heart had begun to pound wildly, and she saw his nose flare, his eyes grow even darker. Confusion and inexplicable fright flooded her, yet also mesmerized her. Some force called to her even as instincts tried to tell her to flee.
“Because it’s dangerous to me for you to know. But if I tell you, even if you forget, at some level you’ll know I’ve withheld nothing.”
She wished she could tear her gaze from his, but it seemed impossible. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense. It just is. So listen to me very carefully. You won’t believe me, but I’m telling you the truth. I am a vampire.”
“Oh, sure…” But her voice trailed away. The way he looked at her, the change in his eyes. She had the sense that even as they were trying to help her, they were withholding an important piece of the puzzle. The clean fridge. The way he tried to stay away from her. And, just now, the way he had managed to cross the room, one instant in his chair, the very next standing in front of her. Like a magician’s trick.
But mostly it was those dark-as-night eyes. Panic replaced fright. Because she believed him. No proof, nothing except those eyes.
And she believed him. “Oh, my God.” It was a thin whisper.
“So now you know,” he said. Then his voice took on a different timbre. “Forget what I just told you. You don’t need to remember it. I’m no threat to you. So forget.”
She stood there staring at him, her heart racing like a trip hammer. “I won’t forget,” she said finally, little more than a cracked whisper.
And then as if someone had cut her strings, she collapsed on the couch and sat staring at the floor.
He was a vampire. And she believed it.
Now how the hell was she supposed to deal with that?
Chapter 4
Creed stared at her in utter perplexity. Not all humans, of course, were amenable to being vamped. Not every human could be controlled by the Voice. But this one… She believed him. He had been so certain that she would get mad, believe he was telling another lie, or just forget he’d even said it.
Now what the hell was he going to do? And how was it possible she believed so readily what almost no one else in the modern world believed anymore?
He racked his brains, wondering what he had done that had convinced her. Her comments about the food really amounted to nothing. His avoidance of her had been countered by his truthful insistence that he didn’t find her repulsive at all.
He happened to glance toward a glass-fronted bookcase and then he knew: his eyes had gone as black as night.
Sighing, he retreated to the far end of the living room and wondered how best to handle this so that whenever Jude cleared her apartment she could go on with her life.
He watched her sitting there all curled in on herself and wondered why people always wanted the truth when the truth so often appalled them. Why couldn’t they just be happy with polite social fictions?
Well, he admitted, most people probably were. But not this one. She’d clearly sensed something, and hadn’t been willing to let it go.
Which left them here and now. He cleared his throat. Slowly she lifted her head and looked at him. She still hadn’t recovered from the shock, and he missed the usual spark in her green eyes.
“I hope,” he said, “that you won’t share my secret.”
“Who would believe me?”
Good question. He chose not to answer directly. “You believed me.”
“After what’s been going on in my condo for a week, I’m ready to believe in almost anything. Why the hell wouldn’t I believe in a vampire?”
“Because almost nobody believes in us anymore.”
She gave a short laugh, absolutely humorless. “Your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t want to get myself committed. Or wind up on your menu.”
“I told you I won’t hurt you.”
“No? Don’t vampires survive by killing?”
“Not me. Not Jude.”
Her head jerked sharply at that. “Why should you be any different?”
“I guess I still have some human hang-ups.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw with relief that a hint of the spark had returned.
He let her have some silence, some space to think whatever she needed to think about this. Finally she looked at him again. “Jude, too?”
He nodded.
“Terri?”
He shook his head.
“But she’s his wife. How can she not be?”
“He won’t change her. Says he wants to be absolutely certain she knows what she’s getting into.”
Her brow knit. “Are you telling me it’s awful?”
“That depends on what you focus on, and what you’re willing to give up. I didn’t choose this. It was forced on me and cost me every damn thing I cared about. So whether you want to believe it or not, I would never do this to anyone else.”
“Never is a long time.”
“I have a lot of never ahead of me.”
She looked down again, and he let her be. The questions would come when the questions came, and at some point she was going to decide he must have lied. And that thought pained him. Odd that after a century he still needed acceptance for who and what he was, just as he was. He ought to be used to the mess he called his life by now.
“So,” she said finally, looking at him. “Why did you tell me, especially when it could be dangerous to you?”
“Because I get sick of the lies. I hate lying.”
“And you were sure you could make me forget.” Her tone was accusatory.
“Not sure. It doesn’t always work.” He waited, the night minutes ticking by, minutes he hated to waste because he couldn’t extend them by much. But she needed the time to adjust, and he was smart enough to know it.
Little by little she seemed to be relaxing. Adapting. Accepting. He had no idea where that would lead, but it was a vast improvement over the edginess he’d felt in her since he’d awakened this evening.
For the first time since shock had caused her to sag onto the couch, she did more than glance at him. Her gaze met his directly, steadily. Her tone took on an edge of tartness. “This is so very cool. In one day I learn there are demons and vampires both. I am just thrilled.”
Her tone prevented him from taking offense. Indeed, he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d turned hysterical or accused him of being lying scum. By comparison, this was a mild reaction. “I know it’s hard.”
“Hard?” A short laugh escaped her. “Somehow I think it ought to be harder. But after the past week, I’d probably believe in werewolves, too.”
“Um…” He drew the sound out and hesitated. Her eyes grew big again.
“No,” she said.
“Afraid so.”
“Oh, my God.” She closed her eyes, but only a second or two passed before they snapped open again, intent now. “How much of the myt
h is true? Are you immortal?”
“Near enough. I die every morning and resurrect every night.”
“Why do you keep backing away from me?”
“Because you smell so good to me. Regardless of how I choose to live, Yvonne, I’m still a predator. Nothing will ever change that.”
“You want to kill me?” She looked appalled.
“I want to drink from you. There’s a difference. I wouldn’t kill you. That’s not necessary, and certainly not desirable. But yes, I want you in ways you can’t imagine.”
She caught her breath, and stared at him wide-eyed. “Do you feel that way about every human?”
“Not quite. There are some who are more enticing than others. You’re the most enticing morsel I’ve ever met.”
“Oh.” She twisted her fingers together. “As a meal?”
“In every way.”
Her eyes widened, and then that maddening blush came to her cheeks. It called to him, to his hunger and his lust, as little had. He closed his eyes, seeking self-control even as his body hummed with need. She would never begin to imagine how hard it was, nor did he ever want her to.
But apart from his instincts, he was quite sure he wanted her to move on before he came to care about her as any more than as a passing acquaintance or a tempting delicacy. He’d lost everything he’d ever loved, and he wasn’t going there again. Ever.
But even as the tension seemed to leave her, as she appeared to accept this new blow, he watched her drop her head in her hands. More minutes passed, then she said almost plaintively, “Why in the world would I have a demon in my condo?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin, as if the mere rubbing of it could erase the delicious aroma of that woman, or keep it from reaching his extremely sensitive nose. “You haven’t done anything have you? Held a séance, used a Ouija board?”
“No, I wouldn’t dabble with that stuff.” She appeared faintly embarrassed. “I don’t know how much I believe in it, but I don’t see any reason to run that kind of risk.”
“I agree with you there.”
She paused, suddenly looking thoughtful. “I’ve never done anything like that. But my ex-boyfriend might have.”
His attention perked and he moved a bit closer. “Why do you say that?”
“I’m not even sure if he did. He had all these necklaces he’d wear from time to time, even though I hated some of them. Everything from an Iron Cross to some kind of feathers he said were an old talisman, to a star, and I didn’t think much of it. Well, that’s not exactly true. I objected to the Iron Cross, and the feathers kind of stank. But what’s to object to in a star?”
Then she gasped, apparently making a connection, and spoke quickly. “It wasn’t just a star. It was a pentagram. Why the hell didn’t I realize that?” Her eyes narrowed, even as her hands clenched into fists.
“Oh, man.” She barely breathed the words. Then she spoke acidly. “Oh, wouldn’t that be just like Tommy and his friends. To think something like that was cool. They’d love the idea it would upset some people. Heck, they’d probably even think it made them special and different.”
“When did you break up with him?”
“About two months ago. I found out he was cheating on me.” Her voice broke and then steadied. Clearly it still hurt like hell to remember the discovery. “And frankly, I didn’t like some of his friends. The cheating was the last straw.” She shook her head. “Anyway, his friends were…well…it’s hard to explain. I’m pretty sure they were doing some drugs, which I didn’t like, but their behavior grated on me. Cynical, antisocial and determined to break rules for the sake of breaking them. Arrested development.” She sighed. “And they seemed to be rubbing off on Tommy. He wasn’t like that at first, Creed. Truly he wasn’t. But after we’d been together about four or five months, he started bringing them home with him from the club where he had a gig.”
“I believe you,” he said gently.
“He changed.” Her voice broke again. “I blamed his friends, but maybe I didn’t really know him. Could somebody really change that much just because of friends? But he seemed to be getting more like them as time passed.”
“Did he start wearing that star necklace more often?”
She frowned faintly. “I don’t know. He started wearing his necklaces under his shirt so I wouldn’t see them. It made me mad that he still wore them when he knew I didn’t like some of them, but it made me mad at myself, too, for objecting to the stupid things. I mean, I must have seemed like such a bitch, picking on his jewelry.”
Creed sat, rubbing his chin slowly, lost in thought. There could definitely be a link, he thought, but how much of one he couldn’t be sure. The gateway, if they’d opened one, would have been where she lived before, not where she lived now. He definitely needed to kick this around with Jude, but for the moment he didn’t want to add to Yvonne’s worries, so he asked no more questions.
Yvonne, however, broke into his thoughts with a question of her own.
“You said your relative was attacked?”
“My great-granddaughter. She was nearly killed.”
She hesitated, then said, “That’s mind-blowing.”
“What is?”
“You don’t look anywhere near old enough to have a great-granddaughter.”
“I told you I was married once, and had daughters.”
“I know, but… Sorry, none of my business.”
“I was married, I had four daughters and a son. And then some damn vampire decided she wanted me, changed me and I was never able to go back to them.”
The corners of her mouth drew down. “They couldn’t accept you?”
“I wouldn’t ask them to. And certainly not in the state I was in at first. So I watched from afar, watched them grow old and die.”
“I’m so sorry! I can’t imagine the pain.”
He closed his eyes again, this time to blind himself to her sympathy. He hadn’t expected that. “It was a long time ago,” he said finally. “A very long time ago.”
“Feelings,” she said quietly, “have their own calendar. They don’t vanish simply because the months and years turn over.”
His eyes snapped open. “No. They don’t. But they visit less often, though they remain every bit as strong.”
She nodded. “I know. I lost my mother five years ago. Not that long in terms of pain, even when you don’t especially like them. I can only imagine what it must have been like to stay away when they were still there.”
He felt utterly flabbergasted. First she accepted that he was a vampire as if he hadn’t just bent all the rules of her known reality, and now she was expressing sympathy rather than fear or revulsion. “You are quite…unusual.”
“Why? Because I’m not running in screaming terror?”
“Because you believe what I told you and now you’re expressing sympathy.”
“Your eyes,” she said simply. “The way they changed. How could I not believe? I felt something already. Something different. You moved so fast and then your eyes changed. There’s no other explanation than that you’re telling me the truth.”
“I am. But I still would have expected some difficulty.”
“You mean I should get upset, scream, deny, whatever?” She shrugged. “Maybe most people would. I’m weird. I’ve always been weird. And I like unusual people. You certainly qualify as the most unusual person I’ve ever met.”
One corner of his mouth drew up. “So you think of me as a person? I’m not even a human anymore.”
“You’re still a person.” She leaned back and tucked her legs up beneath her on the couch. “I write about all kinds of fantastic beings. Some come from tradition, myth and fairy tales, others I make up. But I’ve never followed the current trend for vampires and werewolves.” She half smiled. “You’re giving me ideas for a story.”
“About vampires?”
“Maybe. You’re not at all what I would have expected.”
“Meaning?”
Finally he laughed and allowed himself to relax. Things might change at any instant as she truly absorbed what he’d told her, but for the moment he was willing to enjoy himself. At least as much as he could when her scent was driving him nuts. “I’m no saint, and certainly not a dragon-slayer.”