Kitabı oku: «Claimed by a Vampire», sayfa 3

Chapter 3

Yvonne leaned back from her laptop as dusk began to settle over the city, and she realized she was growing increasingly edgy. Edgy at being alone all day in a virtual stranger’s apartment. Edgy that the night might bring some answers to her when Jude arrived. Edgy that she couldn’t just go home and be safe.

Indeed, whatever it was, it had deprived her of that most basic human need: a home.

And Creed, much as he attracted her, was an odd bird indeed. Not just his illness—a quick online search had even given her the name for it—but odd in that while he had food in his fridge, a fridge too clean to be believed, and food in his cupboards, none of it was opened or used. Despite his invitation, she had hesitated to open those packages until hunger drove her to it.

Of course, she might be making too much of it. He might have just had it all delivered, but it did seem odd that not one thing was open except the coffee, and he’d opened that bag last night.

She didn’t know anybody who finished everything in the cupboard before restocking. There was always an open box of cereal, or crackers or something in the cupboard or fridge. Always.

He must be the ultimate clean freak. Or maybe he ate out, and just kept food on hand in case.

She sighed and stretched widely, loosening muscles that had tensed from hours bent over her computer. At least her writing had gone well. Very well.

But with only the sounds of the city to keep her company all day, even though she was not alone, another kind of tension seemed to have crept in. Nothing like the feeling in her condo of course, but tension nonetheless.

A bad feeling loomed over her, and she hated it, especially when all she had to point to was that unnerving sense of not being alone in her condo. Was she losing her mind?

No, she reminded herself. Creed had sensed it, too. And then insisted that pewter plate had been thrown at him. Much as she wanted to dismiss it, she couldn’t. That plate was too heavy to move on its own, nor had it been set in such a way that it could just fall. But every time she told herself he must have been kidding, she remembered the look on his face. He believed it had been thrown. So either he was totally crazy or it was true. Believing him crazy would have been easy except for what she had already experienced herself, especially last night.

Of course, he was beginning to seem a little less like a paragon of sanity, given the state of his fridge. The darn things never looked that clean and his looked as if it had never really been used.

A quiet little laugh escaped her at her own ridiculous thoughts, just as she heard the door behind her open. She swiveled immediately and saw Creed emerge from his bedroom. It was just now dusk, she hadn’t yet turned on any lights, and he appeared like a mysterious figure, almost otherworldly.

“Good evening,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Did your day go well?” He asked the question as he bent to turn on a lamp. Now that he no longer appeared quite so mysterious, she noted that he apparently awoke looking every bit as awake and put together as he had the night before. No sleep-puffed eyes, no helter-skelter hair.

“Fine,” she answered, summoning a smile. “I was just calling it a day on my work.”

“I hope you found enough to eat.”

Which led her to the question that had bothered her all day. “Don’t you ever eat at home? I couldn’t find anything open.”

He paused. “Well, actually, I mostly keep food on hand for guests. I’m no cook and when I want something I just order it. I hope you didn’t hesitate to open things so you could eat.”

“Well, not for long. I got too hungry.”

“Good.”

Suddenly realizing she was being rude, she hopped up from her chair. “You must want your desk back.”

“Not yet. Relax. Jude will probably be here shortly, and I hate to get involved in something and then have to stop.”

She nodded, understanding that feeling well.

He came farther into the living area—almost cautiously, she thought—and settled on an armchair. Was he afraid of frightening her? If anything about him frightened her, it was her attraction to him. It seemed to be growing, and she wished she knew of some way to bridge the distance between them. Of course, that assumed he found her attractive, too. Maybe he didn’t, despite what he had said last night as they were leaving the elevator. He wouldn’t be the first guy to feel that way.

She sighed.

“Something wrong?”

“Other than that I can’t go home? Not a thing.” And not entirely true.

“If anyone can take care of your problem, it’s Jude,” he said firmly.

She wandered closer and sat on the couch, still made up as a bed because she hadn’t been sure whether to fold things up. Folding them up would make more work for Creed if she needed to stay here another night. “You have a lot of confidence in Jude.”

“I’ve seen what he can do. And what it costs him. I have every confidence in him.”

“What does it cost him?”

“What does it cost a homicide detective? Or in Terri’s case, a medical examiner? Some jobs just leave scars.”

She nodded, not knowing how to respond. “I hope I meet Terri eventually.”

“I’m sure you will. She’s a very likable lady. You mentioned writing. What kind do you do?”

“I’m a novelist. I write fantasy, usually.”

“So you create worlds?”

“One mostly. I write a series.”

“Six-legged blue cows?”

She had to laugh. “I try not to jar my readers that way. The trick is making the world seem close enough to the one we live in so that it seems familiar, yet different enough to establish that it is another world.”

“That would be an interesting challenge. Tolkien did it incredibly well.”

“Something to aspire to, certainly. But most of us don’t have the luxury of spending the better part of a lifetime creating one world.”

“His command of the language was impressive, especially. A true storyteller’s voice. I can pick up any of those books, start reading at any point, and become totally absorbed again. Some day you’ll have to tell me one of your titles.”

“Not if you’re going to compare me to Tolkien.”

He smiled, certainly one of the most attractive smiles she’d ever seen. Had her heart skipped a beat? Thank goodness he couldn’t possibly know.

“What makes you so certain I’d be critical?”

“Nobody measures up to Tolkien.”

“Well, if you take that as a given, you don’t need to be concerned, do you?”

“Are you always impeccably logical?”

This time he laughed, a warm, rolling sound. “It’s the job. It creeps into the rest of my life.”

“I never met anyone who worked for a think tank before.”

“Think of it as being a highly paid professor. The job isn’t really very different, except I don’t teach. I spend my nights reading, researching, pondering ideas, putting bits and pieces together into some kind of coherence and insight. Apparently I succeed well enough that they keep on paying me.”

“That’s always a good sign.”

“I generally take it that way.”

Just then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his slacks pocket and flipped it open. “Yes, Gray? Send them up, please. Oh, and add them to my always welcome list if you don’t mind. Thanks.”

He closed the phone. “You’ll get your wish to meet Terri. She’s coming with Jude.”

That relieved Yvonne. Jude had struck her as every bit as intense and somehow unnerving as Creed. She understood why Creed unnerved her; she was attracted to him. She didn’t feel at all attracted to Jude, yet he left her subtly uneasy. If Pat Matthews hadn’t recommended him, she probably would have looked for someone else to investigate what was going on in her apartment.

Although she frankly couldn’t imagine who. Calling some paranormal group to come in and tell her she wasn’t imagining it, wave their meters around and claim her condo was haunted, wasn’t her idea of a solution. No, she had to believe that whatever was behind this could be dealt with, no matter the means.

Creed answered the door, admitting Jude and a beautiful young woman with inky black hair and bright blue eyes. A tiny woman, not at all what Yvonne had expected in a medical examiner. Somehow she had thought they must all be big, strong and powerful. So much for stereotyping.

Terri greeted her warmly with a beautiful smile and handshake. Jude was more restrained, and it didn’t escape her notice that he and Creed sat at the far end of the living room, while Terri joined her on the couch, still made up as a bed.

Or that Terri immediately took her hand. “Yvonne, I want you to know something.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve had experiences like the ones you’re having. One of them went on for years when I was a kid.”

“How did you stand it?”

“For a long time I convinced myself I was imagining it. Eventually too much happened to believe that anymore. Things started being moved. It called my name. And one night it ripped the blankets off me.”

Yvonne gasped in horror. “My God! I don’t think I could handle that.”

“It wasn’t a matter of handling it. I was scared to death. I freaked.”

“I would, too. I’m freaked already just by the feeling that something is watching me.”

Terri squeezed her hand as Jude spoke. “We need to deal with it. And we will. But I need your permission to go into your apartment, Yvonne, and bring Garner with me.”

“To set up equipment?”

Jude shook his head. “We have other means. If there’s such a thing as a bloodhound for evil, Garner’s it. He has a gift for sensing these things, and if there’s any way to follow it, he’ll be able to do it.”

Yvonne’s heart started hammering uncomfortably. Why did Creed’s nostrils seem to flare suddenly? There was something weird about these guys. But even as she had the thought, she decided that weird or not, they couldn’t approach the craziness she’d been experiencing for the last week. “What do you think this thing is?”

“A demon,” Jude said.

Yvonne sat stunned. Admittedly over the past week she’d reached the point of considering a not-very-pleasant ghost, but a demon? Her heart skipped several beats, then slammed hard enough to feel. “Demon? I don’t believe in demons! That’s … that’s …”

“I told you,” Creed said quietly. “There are some things you can’t believe in until you meet them.”

Yvonne desperately sought Terri with her eyes and saw both understanding and acceptance there. “Have you met one?”

Terri nodded. “It … almost killed Jude.”

At that point, Yvonne became utterly convinced that someone was lying to her about something. Terri’s hesitation, as if choosing her words carefully. Creed and Jude sitting across the room like a pair of inscrutable twins who didn’t want to get close to her. Not even within arm’s reach. As if they were afraid of her? How could anyone fear her?

She jumped up from the couch and stood where she could face them all, her arms folded as much for self-protection as anything. The edginess she’d been feeling all day seemed to be coalescing, especially around these three. As if they were unwilling to share information. As if … Oh, hell, something about those two men didn’t feel right. Something was off and she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“How am I supposed to trust you if you keep secrets from me?” she asked. “There’s something you’re not telling me. And you’re acting as if … as if I stink! As if you’re afraid of me.”

Terri answered her. “What makes you think we’re hiding something?”

“I keep getting this feeling that there’s subtext going on and you’re excluding me. Especially,” she added, pointing at Creed, “from you. Your refrigerator looks as if no one lives here. No open food boxes in your cupboard. First you shy from me and then tell me I’m wrong about your reaction. But every time I get near you, you stiffen or back away.”

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 glassfronted 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 myth 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?”

“Vampire as St. George.”

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.”

“Just don’t tell me there are dragons.”

“I haven’t met one, so I can’t say for sure.”

A smile flickered across her face. “True. Having just made the acquaintance of a couple of vampires I guess there’s no way to be sure that there aren’t any dragons, or elves, or trolls.”

She was definitely taking this entirely too well. A new and different tension began to creep through him, apart from the tension of self-control. None of her reactions seemed quite normal. The resistance had passed too quickly. The acceptance bordered on the extreme. Most people fought so hard to keep their beliefs about reality intact that they could literally erase from their minds anything that didn’t fit. He knew that effect intimately, as he’d seen it in action more than once, and more often than not took advantage of it. Denial was a basic trait of human nature. It actually helped vampires to survive.

Vampires and other things he would not mention, not today. Yvonne was dealing with enough. Or not dealing as the case might be. He honestly wondered which it was.

Her face had grown thoughtful, and he tensed again, waiting to hear her thoughts. He couldn’t help feeling that her easy acceptance of what he had told her was nothing but a ticking time bomb that might go off at any moment.

But then she looked up at him with a crooked smile. “I could use a little more proof, I think.”

“Proof that I’m a vampire?”

“Yes. Part of me recognizes that you moved far too fast for a human, that your eyes change in a way I’ve never seen any human’s do. But another part of me is seriously balking.”

“I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t terrified, given the stories everyone tells about us.”

She gave a little shake of her head. “You’ve been kind to me in the extreme. I tend to judge people by their actions even more than their words. I’m not afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should be.”

Her eyes widened a bit, and for the first time he saw a hint of fear that had nothing to do with what was going on in her apartment. Yes, it was better if she kept a distance, but his chest tightened anyway.

“Are you threatening me or warning me?” she asked.