The Vampire s Secret Page 6

  “You’re not going to tell her I’m a vampire, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Melaphia’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise. “That won’t be necessary.” She glanced at the kitchen clock and patted me gently on the shoulder. “You need to go now, Jack. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is another night.” She turned away and I felt like the bright billboard of my future with Connie had just blown over on my hard head. I was halfway to the door when Melaphia’s last words caught up with me. “Oh, and Jack, get the collier back from her.”

  “The what?” I asked with my hand on the door knob.

  “The gris-gris charm of William’s.”

  “Well, just crap.” Could this like get any worse? “Okay, fine. I’ll be your basic commitmentphobe Indian giver. All in a night’s work.” I tried not to slam the door too hard when I left.

  William

  “Let’s get cleaned up,” I suggested. We’d bloodied the floor, the chairs, and each other in all the important places. Now it was time to rest. I led Eleanor upstairs for a quick shower and a change of clothes before we settled down at dawn. A single reading light shone from the den but otherwise the house was dark; Melaphia and Jack were long gone. We’d just stepped into the hall on the way to the shower when Deylaud appeared in the doorway.

  His surprised intake of breath stopped us. It may have been the smell of blood and sex or seeing us nearly naked—Eleanor was wearing my barely recognizable dress shirt—although he’d never been a prude. He rarely stared so intently at one of my guests unless he didn’t trust them. I slid a protective arm around Eleanor and Deylaud seemed to shake off his fascination. After all, he’d seen her several times before…when she was human.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and lowered his eyes. Then, inexplicably, he sank to his knees. “Benret—my…lady.”

  Benret—I didn’t have to be a translater to know he’d spoken in his own native tongue. His reversion to ancient Egyptian caused me to frown. It was unnerving when my guardians, who’d been with me longer than any others, did something out of character. Reyha appeared and rested a hand on her brother’s shoulder, her gaze fixed on Eleanor as well.

  “Get up,” I ordered, and without hesitation he did so. “We’ll sleep alone today.” Reyha betrayed a quick baring of teeth at that part of the announcement. She was used to sleeping with me during the day. I put up with her squirming and with dog hair on my best coats because she loved me above all others, save for Deylaud. In those few seconds, however, all of us seemed to register the change in the air, in the way things would be from now on. Eleanor was here and that made all affairs different. “Good night,” I said and nudged Eleanor forward toward the bath, leaving my guardians to lick their respective wounds.

  Eleanor stretched mightily as she shrugged out of the shirt. “I feel so amazing. I wish we had time for a long bubble bath.”

  I drew her into my arms. “You’ll not need to wish for more time ever again. We have the rest of eternity to do as we wish.” Even as I said the words the true meaning sank in for me as well. Why had I spent all these centuries alone? Why hadn’t I found someone like Eleanor before now? She kissed me sweetly, then bent to turn on the water. As I traced the graceful line of her spine with my fingers, I felt a rush of relief. We would do well together, both of us profiting by the relationship. I needn’t have worried about whether I’d been wrong to take her.

  Stretched out in my coffin an hour later, drowsy and, pardon the expression, drained, I waited for Eleanor to join me. She wasn’t ready for sleep, although I’d explained she’d be ready soon enough when the sun rose higher. She who must be obeyed was brimming with power—my power, which she’d gained through our mating—and she wanted to explore my underground home under home. Here she would stay until her own house was rebuilt, and maybe even after that. It was still too soon to decide. I heard the opening and closing of armoire doors, the rustle of paper, the squeak of hinges.

  I’d nearly drifted off when I felt her presence. When I opened my eyes she was staring down at me in what I can only describe as a puzzling way. She held something behind her back, a surprise she planned to spring on me.

  I was too tired for surprises. “Come, lie down,” I said.

  She smiled. Then raised her surprise over her head with both hands.

  It was a stake. In something less than a second, it was hurtling downward toward my chest. No more lovely slow-motion play as in her human days. I barely managed to fend off the blow and as I knocked the sharpened wood aside it pierced my hand.

  Blood welled.

  I had forgotten about our game, about my fascination with death. Obviously Eleanor had not. After a moment of stunned silence, I brought the wound to my mouth to stop the bleeding. But Eleanor grabbed my wrist. “Let me,” she said, and set about cleaning the area with her tongue. When she was finished she gracefully slid into the coffin next to me and snuggled close. “Just like old times,” she murmured before drifting off to sleep.

  Jack

  At seven A.M. I stood outside the door to Connie’s place waiting for her to get off work from the eleven-to-seven shift at the police station. Connie was a patrolwoman and I was her favorite perp. She’d given me a fistful of speeding tickets in the last couple of years, so, naturally, romantic sparks flew. I just love a woman in uniform.

  The sun would be up in another ten minutes or so, but the hall of the apartment building was still cold. I’d discovered an entrance to Savannah’s underground tunnels through the basement of Connie’s apartment building a while back. While walking through the maze of passageways I’d come to a decision. I was going to make love to Connie. Tonight. Melaphia confirmed that whatever Connie was, she was strong enough that I couldn’t hurt her. As for her hurting me, that was nonsense. What could goddess girl do to a big, bad vampire? Besides, why would she want to do me harm? Connie was crazy about me.

  What the hell did being a goddess mean anyway? What were goddesses supposed to do all day? I pictured Connie sitting on a throne with a golden scepter. In my mind’s eye, she beckoned me with one gold-tipped finger. “Come here, slave, and do my bidding.” What is it with me and female authority figures?

  “My, now, that’s a nice smile. Is that for me?” Connie walked up and rose to her tiptoes to press a quick kiss on my lips. “Come on in, dollface.”

  She unlocked the door and led me to the couch, then dumped her gear on the floor, drawing me down with her in the same motion. “This is a special treat. We almost never get to be alone together here. It’s enough to give a red-blooded, all-American girl ideas.”

  “What kind of ideas?”

  As an answer, she covered my mouth with hers as she pushed me down into the overstuffed pillows. She was warm, and she warmed my chilled body as I drew her against me and wrapped my arms around her. She twisted her head to kiss me harder and encircled my neck with her arms. Her kiss was so hot she felt as if she were made of sunshine. Her heat never failed to make me feel human again, as if there was warm blood circulating in my veins for the first time in almost a hundred and fifty years.

  “I’m happy to see you,” she said, removing her arms from around my neck and pulling her top off over her head. Her cleavage nearly spilled over the edge of her lacy white bra. I reached up to massage her breasts through the fabric, teasing her nipples to stiff buds under my thumbs.

  I’d dreamed of this moment for so long, dreamed of entering her, having her smooth, satiny heat truly surround me—warm me from my core outward. I had this silly, stupid fantasy that she could make me human again with her body, like in some fairy tale where a princess turns a frog into her perfect prince.

  And they lived happily ever after. I was hard as a rock just thinking about it.

  “You’ve been a gentleman for way too long,” she said, reaching back to unfasten her bra. In one motion, she had it off and her silky smooth breasts were naked under my hands.

  “You’re right about that, darlin’. When it’s time, it’s time.”


  She unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt and planted a kiss on my chest, right over my unbeating heart. I thought for a second that the touch of her lips was going to jolt it back to life, like those defibrilators you see in medical shows. I actually closed my eyes and waited for it. I didn’t feel my heart spring to life, but something a little farther south did.

  She tugged my shirt off and I fumbled for the button of her uniform pants. She ran her fingers over the hair on my chest and leaned forward, offering up her rosy breasts again, this time to my hungry mouth. I took one nipple between my lips greedily, and she moaned with pleasure. By that time I had her fly undone, and she reached down to stroke my hardening shaft through my jeans.

  She leaned in to kiss me again, raising her bottom so I could slide her pants down. I slipped my hands inside her panties and let them slide around so I could give her derriere a little squeeze. Her giggle, muffled against my mouth, turned into a whimper of pleasure as I reached farther and found the honeyed heart of her womanhood.

  She shoved her panties and pants down to her thighs and leaned onto me, freeing herself to kick them the rest of the way off. The sensation of Connie’s naked body full-length against mine made me feel fully alive again. Human, mortal, vulnerable, ecstatic.

  I held her tightly to me with one arm and in one quick motion rolled us over so that I was on top, propped on one elbow, exploring her with my other hand. I eased her legs apart with my knee and groaned as she reached down to take me in her hand. I reveled in the sight of her naked and open to me, a sight that had been in my dreams so many times. My tongue blazed a trail from the hollow of her throat across her nipple to her belly to her hip, where I noticed a red, sun-shaped mark just above her right hip bone, barely visible in the dimness.

  “What’s this?” I asked, drunk on the pleasure of exploring her body and the anticipation of what was to come.

  “It’s just a birthmark,” she murmured. “Been there as long as I can remember.”

  I reached out to trace the rays of the little sun with my index finger. When I touched it, a shock went through me so intense it was as if I’d grabbed on to a live electric wire. My body arced upward involuntarily and I felt like I’d been stabbed by a hundred hot pokers fresh from the flames of hell. I propelled myself backward, hoping to escape whatever force had just burned me to my core. I hit the wall with a thud. Looking down, I saw that the hand I’d touched her with was bloodred and swollen to twice its normal size. I hid it behind my back, wincing in pain.

  “Connie, are you all right?” I asked, not at all sure that I was.

  “What the hell just happened?” she yelled. She looked physically unhurt.

  “I’m—I’m not sure,” I stammered, getting to my feet. My head was splitting and not just from smacking the wall. It felt like my brain was short-circuiting. My ears rang with Melaphia’s words. She can be a danger—or worse—to you.

  I’ll be damned. She’d been right.

  “Is it me? Did I do something?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, no. It’s not you.”

  “Then what was that? What did I do to you?”

  “It’s not you. It’s me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I got to my feet and paced to the other side of the room, but I saw the crucifix she had hanging there, so I went to the window and looked out to keep from having to meet her eyes. “I’m not like other guys.”

  “I know that, Jack. That’s what I like about you.”

  “No. I mean, I’m really not like other guys.” Suddenly I wanted to tell her all of it; I wanted to make her understand that what just happened had to do with what I was. I couldn’t walk beside her in the sun. I couldn’t travel with her to meet her family. Couldn’t take her on a picnic to the beach. Couldn’t wake up in bed beside her with the morning rays streaming through the window to light her face like an angel’s. And now I knew I couldn’t make love to her. I wanted to tell her all of it, but I couldn’t take that chance. I was a killer and she was the law. And a goddess.

  “Are you into something illegal? Is this a side effect of some kind of drug or something?”

  I thought about that for a moment, long enough to make her even more suspicious. “It’s not a drug. It’s more about…what I am.”

  “Give it up. Whatever you’re into, give it up.” Her tone was demanding. To her, you either wore a white hat or you wore a black one. There was no gray headwear in Connie’s mind.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Out the window I could barely see the river as it ambled east toward the Atlantic. The sun was about to rise; the first of the colors that signaled its arrival gleamed just over the horizon. “It’s hard to explain, but I can’t ever change—what I am. I would if I could. I’d do anything for you. But it’s impossible.”

  I turned back to Connie and my throat constricted at the sight of the tears welling in her eyes. I opened my mouth to say more, to explain somehow, but no words came. None that would make sense to her anyway.

  Connie’s face registered alarm and confusion. Now was the chance to make my getaway, before she started asking questions, but first I had to get her to return Melaphia’s charm. I couldn’t bear to have to come back again.

  “What—” Connie began.

  I cut her off. “I need that charm. The one I gave you to wear to the party. It belongs to Melaphia.”

  Dumbly, Connie opened a drawer in the lamp stand beside the sofa and handed me the ugly voodoo gris-gris, the one that had helped protect us from at least some of Reedrek’s evil.

  “Tell me the rest of it. What is it that you keep insisting that you are and that you can’t change? Tell me now.”

  I opened the door and was halfway through it when I turned and choked out, “Please. Don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand that.”

  “If you go out that door, we’re finished.”

  I left, shutting the door behind me.

  I paused outside Connie’s apartment and caught my breath. The fresh burn on my hand was agonizingly raw. I looked around the hallway, hoping to see a planter with water in it, or anything liquid I could put on the burn. Then I looked at the charm in my other hand. It was an ugly thing, with chickens’ beaks and claws and who knew what else strung on some kind of gut string. What the hell. I held it against my ruined hand.

  No sooner had it connected with my skin than I felt a soothing coolness. The fire was leaching out of the wound as surely as I was a son of Satan. I looked up to see a mist rising to the ceiling. It was dark gray at first and then lightened until it looked like clear steam. It didn’t coalesce against the ceiling but disappeared completely. Within thirty seconds, the mist was gone and the pain was easing.

  The relief from my healed hand soon gave way to heartache, though, as I thought about how the scene with Connie had just played out. I gazed back at her door one more time. The door’s peephole caught my eye, and I saw something that ordinary human vision probably wouldn’t have spotted through the distorted glass. A dark eye peered at me in surprise, disappearing when I met its startled gaze. Connie had seen.

  I was in an interior hallway, but I knew the sun was already up. I descended the steps to the tunnels’ murky dankness and headed toward my garage.

  I would spend a sleepless day tossing and turning on the couch in my windowless office, thinking about the love I had just lost.

  Three

  William

  I awoke early. Sleep had been sweeter and deeper than at any time in recent memory, which for a vampire could mean decades. But I wanted to get on with the night, the first night of the rest of our lives, as the moderns would say. It’s a corny saying, but accurate. Waking with Eleanor in my arms was almost enough to unfreeze the last glaciers of hate that weighed down on my crystalized heart.

  Eleanor… I whispered, mind-to-mind.

  With a contented hmmmmm she stretched, arching her spine, pushing her beautiful backside against me. She remain
ed lost in her now immortal dreams.

  “We have lessons to learn, sweet,” I said aloud. “You need to hunt—”

  She sucked in a quick breath, pulled back from the dead by hunger. Yes, she would hunt. A shiver of anticipation sizzled under my skin.

  I pushed open the coffin lid and sat up, gently pulling Eleanor along with me. A dog’s head appeared over the edge. Warm brown eyes gazed at Eleanor with an emotion that could only be described as idolatry. Deylaud looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink—guarding our new treasure with canine teeth. Instead of moving away, he shyly licked her hand.

  “Hello, sweet boy,” she said, sliding fingers over his head and between his ears. At the touch, Deylaud betrayed a low moan of ecstasy.

  For some reason his pleasure annoyed me. “Enough,” I snapped. “Move and let us get up.”

  He backed away obediently, without meeting my eyes. That’s when I noticed Reyha, perched like an Egyptian queen on her barge—or in this case, my leather ottoman—glaring in our direction. No love lost there. As I helped Eleanor from the coffin and into a silk wrapper, Reyha reluctantly came to sit next to Deylaud. I tugged on my own robe and belted it.

  “Good morning,” I said, resuming the same voice, the same manner, I’d always used. The echo in the quiet room sounded different today, even to me. Rather than showing the usual exuberance for another night spent together, Reyha and Deylaud stood transfixed.

  Just then Melaphia bustled into the chamber, looking tired and harried, her arms full of fresh clothes, with her daughter, Renee, skipping behind her. Mel stopped, surprised to see us up and about.

  “The sun is still shining,” she said. Turning to her daughter, she asked, “What time is it, Ren?”

  Without consulting a watch or clock, Renee answered, “Four thirty-eight, Maman.”

  “Thank you,” Melaphia said, then looked toward me with a questioning gaze.

  “Everything is fine,” I answered. “We’ve got things to do, that’s all.” I slipped an arm around Eleanor’s waist. “Renee, you remember Miss Eleanor, do you not?”