Chapter 7
London, England
Present Day
Sex. The horizontal mambo. Humptoberfest. The beast with two backs. Stuffing the turkey. Although that one probably didn’t make it out of the United States and was only said in November. She was going to have sex with Ian tonight. It was like a compulsion, an urge. Like a lemming going over a cliff. Christ, she was the lemming. She was going to have sex tonight if it killed her!
Get it out there— loud and proud, she was not interested in Lucas because she was banging someone else. Ta-da! If I’m sleeping with Ian, I can’t sleep with Lucas. It’s like a magic trick. Probably sleight of hand.
Surely that wasn’t totally evil. They’d been dating for three months, she'd met his parents and all of his friends from home. In fact, they were all refreshingly normal. His parents had even given her tea and fruitcake. Not that fruitcake qualified as cake. It didn't even belong in the desert category. It belonged firmly in the category of things-one-ate-to-live-longer-but-really-hated.
Ian was fun to be around. He was smart, charming, rich and a good listener. He was also handsome and genuinely cared for her. The real question should be why hadn’t she slept with him before now?
Because he wasn’t permanent.
He wasn’t serious.
They dated and he was sweet but she had kept herself back from him physically as well as emotionally. But now that the big bad wolf was at the door, she was going to rush into the sack with him. Oh yeah, this is a really good decision.
For the umpteenth time she wondered if she was being melodramatic. Lucas had said nothing that implied he wanted her. Sure she’d touched him a little and he’d let her but it wasn’t like she’d ripped her clothes off or propositioned him. Maybe she could resist him. Maybe she didn’t even need to resist him because he wasn’t interested.
No, he wants me and if I don’t send a signal that I am unavailable, I’ll be coffin bait for the rest of my life.
Alright then.
Val showered and dressed carefully. Ian came to pick her up and took her to Pizza Express. She loved their thin pizzas and salads. Why didn't California have pizza like this? Probably the same reason England had terrible hamburgers. Some things just didn't cross the pond.
Ian took her to the theater and they saw The Phantom of the Opera. Val had seen it before and loved it. They had considered going to see Cats but the Time Out review called it 'moth eaten' so Phantom it was.
Valerie had always loved the Phantom. Who liked the boring old knight in shining armor anyway? Oh no, she always liked the bad boy. As if the happy ending would last past the first orgasm. The irony was not lost on her.
When the opera was over and they left she was near to tears. Val had spent the whole time thinking about her life, the future and her current options until she was a wreck. Ian took her home and she started crying. He held her sweetly and even sang her a song to cheer her up.
He had a nice singing voice and like most English guys it seemed he'd been in a band for all of his formative teenage years. Pulling her wet act together, she splashed water on her face and convinced him that she was crying because of the play. He actually bought it.
When she turned her face to his and kissed him deeply he eagerly joined in. Almost aggressively, she pushed him back on the bed. He tried to protest a little, slightly disturbed by her change in emotion but she didn't stop and the protest was half-hearted at best. She reached between them, felt him through his dark jeans, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, maneuvering her fingers through his clothes until she felt his hard, silky skin in her palm. This was right.
Right now, with him, she wanted this. Let him possess her, she thought frantically, someone human claim her. Because she knew, in a terrified little part of her, that things were changing. Ian’s hands were shaking when he put the condom on, rummaging around in his drawer and then his closet, trying to remember where he'd stashed them. Val laughed, surprised that he wasn't carrying one on him, just in case. With a mock frown, he told her it was her fault. He'd given up on thinking he was going to get laid and had told his roommate to have at them. Apparently, he had.
He kissed her over and over until they were both panting and then she spread her legs, felt him pressing against her.
Finally, when he was in her, moving gently, telling her how much he loved her, she believed it, clasping him closer, feeling only him as he blocked out the rest of the world and kept her safe in his arms.
Val slept in his room, trying to ignore Ian's roommate who came stumbling in, blind drunk at three am. Sleep came to her fitfully as her mind went over the events of yesterday, attempting to process just how much her life had changed in such a short amount of time. Lucas, sex, the secrets she now had. Also, the bed was made for one and Ian had disgracefully sharp elbows.
At 6:30 am, she was awoken by the cleaning ladies coming in and banging around in the kitchen. It was still dark outside and Val was exhausted when she snuck back to her room. The old ladies started in the communal kitchen, then did the bathrooms and finally opened every door so they could take the trash out and have a good gander at the irresponsible inhabitants. The last thing Val needed was to be gossip for the cleaning ladies.
When Val opened her door, she was struck by the cold and breeze. She froze, her gaze drawn to the open window.
Jack was sitting on her bed, his feet on the ground, back against the wall. His hands were laced across his stomach and he was the picture of relaxation. Sitting up, he put his elbows on his knees, turning his head towards her.
He looked her over, scrutinizing every inch of her. Her mussed hair, clothes that were rumpled because they'd been on Ian's floor all night, and she just knew she had mascara on her face from all the crying she'd done. She also knew her lips were a little swollen and that he could tell that too.
His lips thinned into a fine and angry line, his jaw clenched. He squeezed his hands together once, like he was restraining them from violence.
“We're back.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He was here, now? Twelve hours ago she would have jumped him! He would have had to fight her off.
“Hard night?” Jack asked, his voice taut.
She put her hand out in front of her like she could capture his words and keep them from hurting her. Where had he been twelve hours ago? She drew in an unsteady breath. He stood and came towards her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. Clumsily, her arms went around his waist and she tucked her head against his chest, listening to his heavy heartbeat.
“Are you alright, Val?” His voice was tender. Of course it was, this was perfect Jack. She could tear his fucking heart out and he'd want to know if she broke a nail. But the next time he'd wear armor.
She nodded against him, having no idea what to say. Then he was all business.
“Why do you have this information?”
She pulled away from him, following his gaze.
He'd opened the folder from Lucas and spread all the papers on the bed. She saw photos of Marion, the vampire who'd killed Jack's parents. She'd been off the grid for a decade. Not a whisper and yet here was a photo of her holding the hand of a young man in what, Switzerland? The bottom of the picture said Geneva and a date. Two months ago.
She felt his confusion.
“Why are you here?” she asked instead.
“Your dad and I went to clear out Gilbert's house and there was a note with your name on it. I just needed to make sure you were safe.” He searched her face.
“Yes, because Gilbert's dead.” She said absently.
“Yeah, he is. But how do you know?”
As far as he was concerned she didn't know anything about this stuff, had cut herself out of the loop on purpose when she'd chosen a normal life instead.
“These files look like his. That's even his handwriting. Why is it here with you?”
She thought quickly. “I've been doing some thinking for a while now and I wanted to help...a little.” It
was a good idea to stick to the truth as much as possible. “You guys were gone. I called Gilbert. I didn't want you and dad to know.”
Something wasn't right and Jack knew it. “Why wouldn't you want us to know?”
Man, she hoped she could lie her way through this, “Because I didn't know if I could do it. I wanted to try to help on a trial basis. Why get your hopes up or involve you if I just decided to cut and run instead?”
Jack crossed his arms, surveying her like a teacher with a cheating student. His legs were spread a little, making him a bit closer to her eye level— but it was also a don't fuck with me posture.
“So, Gilbert sent you this?”
She nodded.
“What were you going to do with it?” Anger and disbelief threaded his voice.
“I was going to look up records in Switzerland, see if I could pin her down a little. Check obituaries, rentals, look for aliases or weird disappearances, stuff like that.”
There was a lengthy pause as Jack organized his thoughts. She was surprised he didn't explode, cartoon style, he was getting so worked up. “You were going to try to get information on Marion? The monstrous bitch who stole my family? You were going to sniff around her and see what you could find, is that right?” He was moving towards her and she didn't realize she was backing up until her back hit the wall. “This I will take.” He looked her body up and down, and she knew he meant her sleeping around, “But I won't let you get near her. You don't give her any reason to notice you. You shouldn't even think about her, do you understand me?”
She thought of Lucas killing Jack or her father if she tried to say no.
“You don't have the right to tell me what to do!” She was overcome with rage. Rage that he'd shown up too late. Rage at being forced to lie to him. Rage at being cornered by Lucas. She pushed him hard and he barely moved, allowing no more than a few extra inches between them.
“You passed me up, remember? It's my life and I'll do whatever I want to. If you want to be involved— great. But if you think you can dictate to me, then I will throw out that fucking pager and leave here in the middle of the night and you'll be lucky if you ever see me again.” Val wondered if maybe she was laying it on a bit thick, but he was so infuriating!
Jack invaded her space again, voice lethally quiet. “First of all, you would never escape me. I would hunt you down, wherever you go. And secondly, you will do what I tell you when it comes to her. She is mine!”
Val nodded. He was at a breaking point and this was getting ridiculous. If Lucas hadn't forced this information upon her, she wouldn't have gone digging for information on Marion. She had a damn good reason to leave Marion alone: if Jack found out where she was, he'd try to kill her. And there was a big chance he'd wind up dead.
“You're right. Anything I find goes to you first. I won't do anything to get noticed. But I've made a decision that I can't keep sitting by and waiting for a phone call to hear that you are dead. I'm going to help. Wasn't that one of the problems, Jack? That I turned my back on my family and wouldn't help? Well, here I am. This is what you wanted, so don't try to shut me out.” Val sighed, looking out the window at the lightening sky, “Let's face it, any vampire who wanted me could have killed me a long time ago. I just wasn't worth the time and attention.”
Until now.
“Jack, I'm good at this. Did you know that Lucas is almost 1600 years old? Well, give or take a few centuries, the math is a bit fuzzy. I even know what he looks like.”
He looked at her like she was a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model. Lucas was elusive. Vampires had been tortured and talked of him but neither Jack nor her father had ever seen him.
“And as for Marion, I've found out more about her in my limited time of searching then you have in ten years. You're more likely to get her with my help. That's what you want, right?”
Jack paced away from her. “I don't know. I'm exhausted. I've been up for 36 hours, then I come here and your room is empty, yet you have pictures of Marion everywhere and now....”
Yeah, he'd just seen her come in from shagging her boyfriend and was turning his life upside down. Great night.
So, Lucas was giving them Marion. Guess she should have read the file sooner. He walked over to her desk and started writing. “Whatever you get, you can reach me here.”
He put down the pen, and walked away from her desk towards the door. “Good night.” He opened her door and stood in the doorway, not looking at her. He seemed momentarily frozen, then he rolled his shoulders a little and exhaled. “Val, it’s really nice to see you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick.” Then he closed the door and left.
His comment made her smile in a wobbly sort of way. Maybe that was the only conversation they would have about her dating other people. Maybe now they would move on and there wouldn’t be this weirdness between them. She thought about how she might act if she saw Jack the morning after being with someone. Sad. Even after all this time a part of her would think that it should have been her.
Would she always feel that way? That if things had been a little bit different, Jack a little less haunted, that they would have made it work? He was her childhood love. Even though she was grown up, he was still around and in her life. He’d show up, be all alpha male, say something about how important she was to him and she just…couldn’t quite get over him.
He was the fantasy. And a small part of her still hoped that if he killed Marion he’d be free. She could then convince him to give this all up and settle down with her.
She went to the piece of paper and looked at his tightly scrawled writing. The cell phone she had, mailbox she didn't. A secondary email address she'd never seen and a fax number were also listed. All with a strange country code. 420. What was 420? She turned on her computer and looked it up. The Czech Republic. Why was Jack based in the Czech Republic?
She put the papers and Jack's information back into the file and wondered about where to hide it. She didn't need Jack looking at that information again and she didn't want Lucas to find out about Jack. Folding it in half, she put it in the bottom of her box of tampons. That'll scare everyone off, she thought and then went to take a shower.
She walked down the hallway in her robe. It came to mid-thigh and had a definite ‘lived in’ look. It used to be a dark blue but had been washed so many times that the color had lightened to pale blue. Like Lucas' eyes, she thought. I’m so stupid.
The dorm had a communal bathroom. It sucked. Happily, no one else was taking a shower.
She thought about Jack. What if it had been him last night? Torturing herself, she imagined him taking off her panties, that it was Jack moving into her and over her.
Val imagined him stopping, gentling her and kissing her while she got used to the sensations. It made her heart break and she wondered when loving him would end. Would she spend her life wanting him, loving him, despite herself? Pathetic.
Jack had a death wish. And she knew that on some fundamental level he ranked his life lower than hers or her father's. That part of him had died when his parents died and he'd just never recovered.
Jack would live as long as she and her father did. So long as he could make the world safer for them. He was like a prisoner marking time and there was a depth of hurt and darkness in him that he hid and probably didn't want her to be stuck with. Sometimes she thought he’d snap. Like the last straw would settle on his shoulders and he’d go nuts.
A man who wouldn't have children with her, get a normal job, and laze about on the weekends reading the paper. Surely that was part of the reason that he kept himself away from her?
Pretty to think so.
He'd leave her and destroy her life by dying if it got him a crack at Marion. Was it selfish to want him to not be a hero? Sigh. Probably.
Val also knew why it upset him that she would get involved in the vampire biz now. He'd given up on her. Released her to have a happy life and now she was turning back. God, if he knew about Lucas he'd kill himself trying to
get to him.
Val finished rinsing and then stood under the water for a good ten minutes. Watched the water swirl down the drain and tried to not think about anything important.
In England, she didn't have to think about wasting water, it rained all the damned time anyway. But bizarrely, England had a lot of droughts, even with all the rain. The pipes had all been set up during the Victorian era and were now falling apart. Huge quantities of water were lost because of leaks. That’s the sort of crap a one hundred thousand dollar education got her.
It was time to get out. How long could one person hide in the shower anyway? She wrapped herself up in her Hawaii towel that she'd brought from home. It had lots of dolphins, and a couple of crabs with Hawaii written in big red letters.
Val walked back to her room, her little bucket with soap and razor clanking against her leg. She unlocked her door and walked in, thinking that her room was basically a cell: little sink in the corner, a chair to read in, a wardrobe, her desk and desk chair plus a twin size bed.
She put down her toiletries and closed the curtains so she could get dressed. She was about to drop the towel—
“Mortals seem preoccupied by nudity.”
She whirled around. Lucas was sitting in her chair in the corner of the room. He'd been hidden when she came in the door. She needed to get a fucking security guard.
“What?” Her voice was thready with surprise and a healthy dollop of fear.
“You may not want to discard the towel yet.”
Her anger from before was still near the surface, almost like a layer of warmth enveloping her skin. Lucas being in her room was too much. Instead of being meek and pleasant— which could keep her alive— she was angry and surly. “Well if you left, it wouldn't be a problem. How the hell did you get in here anyway? You're a vampire and I didn't invite you in. As I remember, that was the ultimatum, 'You will invite me in, Valerie,'” she said, imitating his deep voice and weird accent. Unfortunately, she sounded a bit like The Count from Sesame Street.
His eyes wandered down her body and lingered on her toes for a moment. They were painted purple.
“You have a helpful, yet surprisingly contrary, cleaning lady.”
She scowled. They do hate me!
“Don't you think I'm at enough of a disadvantage without having to be naked in front of you? Go away!”
Three fingers rested against the side of his head, elbow propped on the arm of the chair, as he scrutinized her intently. “You are surprisingly insolent,”
Valerie looked at him quickly. He'd sounded amused. Maybe. Who could tell?
His eyes dipped down her body lingering on her legs and the hem of the robe at her thigh, like he was wondering what was under there. Why, it hadn’t changed in the last thousand years, had it?
“I can assure you that no one else would dare speak to me in such a way. Usually, they say please, thank you and my favorite.... Yes, master.” His voice was more of a drawl, with a definite hint of seduction at the end.
Oh, what a voice! She suppressed a shiver. It was so rich she thought of chocolate. Not a little bit of chocolate, but an overdose, like when Val wolfed down a whole bar and realized that if she didn't get water immediately she might dehydrate into nothing.
She blinked. What had he said? He wanted her to call him master? Screw that. “Yeah? Slavery is out dude. Catch up,” she muttered, as she rifled around her drawer looking for underpants.
Lucas threw back his head and laughed. “You are terribly amusing,”
She'd better stop that! “Not really.”
Suddenly, he was in front of her. Mere inches between them and she was trapped against the wall. His height was incredibly imposing, and she felt a little lightheaded being so close to him. He had his forearm resting against the wall, the other hand brushing lazily across the top of her towel. His touch was electric, little prickles of pleasure dancing across her skin wherever he touched. She could feel the echo of his fingers, even as his hand dropped back to his side.
Lucas captured her eyes with his and she didn't look away. She could hear her blood pumping slowly through her body and felt like she was in a trance. The whole world was slowing down, this moment with him an eternity as he encompassed her world.
Val looked from his eyes to his lips, their perfection drawing her in until she felt an overwhelming need to touch him back. Her hand reached up and slid through his long hair until she reached the ends, twisting her fingers so that it twined around her hand. No man should have hair this great.
She could smell him, expensive cologne and something under it...she didn't know what it was and while it wasn't unpleasant, she wasn't sure it was human either. Imagining smelling him, her nose pressed to the hollow of his throat, she had a sudden urge to lick him.
Her hand lifted away from his hair and went to his cheek. It was hard and cold like a statue and she pulled away, disturbed by the sensation.
Not human.
Taking a deep breath, she realized where she was, who she was with, and most worrying of all, what she was doing. Her thoughts were sluggish, her breathing deep and unnaturally slow.
Lucas shook his head, his hair swaying gently. Her gaze slid back to his mouth, watching his lips move.
“No, again,” he said in an intimate whisper. Any hesitancy fled, and she reached back up to touch him. The cold, hard skin was now as soft and warm as a human's.
“How do you do that?” Val kept touching him, the backs of her fingers going from his cheek to his full lips. They had more color, looked soft instead of cold and cruel.
Val licked her lips unconsciously, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, but it was almost unfathomable as he was so… alright, she’d call a spade a spade, he was hot. Too hot for normal her. And he might eat her in a non-sexy way.
Lucas was emotionless and that radiated from him, an almost negative energy that had weight to it.
As her finger passed by his mouth, he opened his lips and licked her knuckle, a quick flick of his tongue, almost teasing. It was deeply erotic and her heart sped up, as though that tiny lick had been between her legs instead of on one ignominious knuckle.
Val was hyper-aware of her next breath, and felt her nipples tighten in desire. His breath was warm against the pad of her thumb. Lucas took her palm in his warm hand and turned it over, so he could kiss her palm, the sensation making another beeline to her sex.
His every touch was hardwired to her core, startling her into a breathy moan of pleasure. Lucas smiled, brought her hand to his mouth and breathed in her clean skin, his eyes closing as though he was just as fascinated by her as she was of him.
He placed another kiss gently in her palm before opening his eyes and licking her again. The touch stabbed through her, warmed her everywhere. He was only kissing her hand but moisture pooled between her legs and she moved a little restlessly towards him. This isn’t normal.
Val felt like she was on the edge of an orgasm and all he'd done was kiss her palm. He let her hand go and she was so weak limbed that her hand plunked back down to her side, jerking her out of the strange trance.
His voice was like black leather, “I can play at being human too. Do you know what I can sense? Sex and Jack. Does he know about last night?”
It was like he slapped her. She shoved against him but he was solid as the wall. Angry, she ducked under his other arm and stepped away from him. “Don't touch me! I want ground rules for this relationship. Working relationship!” Her voice became shrill. “And one of them is you don't barge into my room and try to seduce me.” He raised a brow and she knew he took exception to the word 'try'. As though he hadn't been trying and was offended that she thought that was the best he had.
“But most importantly, don't screw with my mind! You've got to swear to me you won't compel me.”
“I confess, I had no intentions of... touching you when I came here. Your emotions affect me, even the remnants of them, like a fire that's died out but still gives heat. I did not e
xpect it and was unprepared. I shall be more guarded next time. This does neither of us any good.” He sounded almost sheepish, which was so incongruous to his ruler-of-the-world persona that she didn't know whether to believe him or not.
“and?”
“And...what?”
Furious, the words were loud, “You won't mess with my mind?”
Lucas looked very smug, a slight smile on his lips. “Ah, Valerie. I did nothing to you, I swear.”
Her mouth fell open, gaping fish-style. He’s serious! “Well, it's because you're a vampire then, right?”
His eyes narrowed. “What are we discussing?”
How mortifying! He wanted her to say it. Didn't you make me act like a nympho using your vampire wiles?!?
Well, she wouldn't start keeping her mouth shut now! “Look, buddy. That ain't natural. You don't just touch someone and have them... combust unless there is some kind of supernatural mojo going on.”
“In what way does the answer matter? If it's because I am a vampire, you are still affected. If not, then perhaps that's even more worrying for you? Do you want to know?”
Okay, maybe she didn't. This was all too confusing. “Just let me get dressed! Why don’t you go find a Starbucks or something.”
Twenty minutes later, Val was dressed and in the kitchen, eating her bowl of cereal while reading about Prince Harry in Hello Magazine.
A pale hand dropped a white bag in front of her.
Val froze, the spoon halfway to her mouth. She forced herself to keep eating, chewing her granola, even though it tasted like sawdust. Or Weetabix— both were bad.
“If I open this bag will I find a human heart?” Val couldn't believe she'd said that. Was it a joke?
“I paid for a croissant. If it is a human heart I shall be quite put out. And you would need to share.”
Val leaned back in her chair, disbelief in her voice. “Really? You paid for this?”
He shrugged.
Maybe, maybe not, the gesture said. She could not imagine this... manpire standing in line for anything.
Whatever.
“Why did your Hunter get killed? Gilbert Arthur.”
“I am not entirely sure.”
That was rich. “Really? My guess is that you either murdered him, someone else murdered him to send you a message- not comforting by the way- or he got himself killed chasing down a vampire. So what was it?”
“I didn't kill him. His remains were found in a burned out warehouse in Melbourne. Everything was gone. I don't know why he was there or if another killed him. I couldn't sense anything. There was too much...” he seemed to be looking for the right word, “char.”
“That's pretty unfortunate. Sounds like a message to me.”
He waited.
Exasperated, she explained. “It doesn't make sense for a vampire to burn the place down if Gilbert was already dead, unless they didn't want you to know who did it. It's like, overkill.” His gaze flicked to the door and one of the boys from down the hall, who was coming towards the kitchen, turned around and went back to his room.
Now that’s a handy trick.
“Gilbert Arthur was under my protection. Whoever killed him would not want me to know they had done it. I would have avenged him.”
Val gave him a sarcastic smile. “That's sweet. I’m sure he’d give you a big high five of thanks if he weren’t dead. So whoever did it knows you can't trace a smell if it's been burned badly enough. What other weaknesses do you have?”
A long pause. “empaths.”
“What's an empath?” Val looked at her cereal then pushed it away. She couldn’t eat with this guy sitting across from her.
“One of the Other kind that has been long gone. Vampires can feel things to a certain extent, but it fades over time, especially positive emotions. The older a vampire gets the more they are drawn to slaughter because they are emotions that can still be felt. But an empath can convey emotions to a vampire. Evoke, even restore... everything.” His tone was carefully neutral.
“But you killed them all? And I thought people were trigger happy. You think that if vampires could feel positive emotions, they wouldn't kill?” Val admitted to herself that the idea was intriguing, but she couldn't believe that vampires were anything other than murderers. They survived by eating people, for God's sakes.
“It is in our nature to hunt humans. But we do not need so much blood as would kill a person to survive. That's simply gluttony. Look at Marion, for example. When she was human, she was a mother. Now she takes children for companions, but it is a habit. She no longer loves them, they do not make her feel love or affection and so she discards them. Always looking for something long gone. Once upon a time, she was kind to her companions.”
“So now that she's crossed a line, she can be killed? Marion was still, is still, feeding on children. That's not love, that's sick.”
“I do not know. I have lived a very long time. Most children, if they survived birth and were not instantly killed by their parents, died young. They died from disease and famine, simple cruelty. If they had a family they would be fortunate if they were raised by their own mothers. Mortality rate for a woman dying in childbirth was very high. Domestic violence did not exist, it was life. Often I am surprised people have thrived at all. But now we live in a time where all life is thought to be valuable.”
“So you let her eat and kill children because it was better than death?” This was too weird, too ruthless. “What do you want?” Val looked down the hallway and saw Ian heading towards the shower, a towel around his waist. Her heart started thundering and Lucas turned his head towards Ian, like a wolf who'd scented a hare.
She reached out and grabbed his hand to keep him at the table. Lucas was ice cold, his hand marble again. He closed his eyes and then his hand became warm and soft.
“Why don't you just keep yourself warm all the time?” She was trying to distract him.
“It takes an inordinate amount of energy to maintain. Also, it is daylight and I have already dematerialized twice today.” He turned his head back towards her. “I am not limitless.” The words were just above a whisper, his face close to hers. The comment made her stomach clench, like fingers were sliding along the walls of her stomach. An image came to her of him being totally sated, so used and exhausted he could barely move.
His head tilted to the side like he could hear her thoughts, eyebrows raised slightly as though he was surprised by her. Valerie blushed and looked away while Lucas smiled at her slowly. Expensively.
“He loves you.”
She pulled her hand back.
“Who?” It was defensive.
“The young man you gave yourself too. He cares for your happiness.”
She nodded.
“You believe Jack would have been gentle too?”
Her voice was a whisper, she was petrified now. “What?”
“You believe Jack could contain his rage and lust, so that he could have lain with you purely?”
Did he really expect her to answer?
“Perhaps you have more faith in him than you should.”
She reached her hand out again but he was ready, her fingers met his warm palm as he turned his hand to lie face up on the table. The warmth of his hand was like a caress. “Please don't kill them. Please,” Val couldn't keep the quaver from her voice.
“I will not harm someone who only means you well.”
Lucas was watching her intently. “Your thoughts radiate across your face.”
She remembered what he'd told her. “That's right! And it makes me really boring, doesn’t it? Mr. Seen-it-all. Now, what do you want?” She took the bag off the table and opened it. The croissant was really flaky and butter had made grease stains on the inside of the bag. This was going to be a really good croissant. She took a bite. “This beats the ones at the train station.”
He looked affronted. “Well, yes.”
The pastry melted in her mouth, and she tasted orange marmalade in the middle
.
“Honestly, this is so good it's like it came from France.”
He squinted a little. “It did.”
She almost choked.
Lucas waved a hand to dismiss the conversation. It was nothing, the gesture said, 'I go to Paris to get croissants for all the girls'. Crap, maybe he did, but it was worrying. Because it was a very romantic gesture.
And I’m a sucker for shit like that. See, romantic?
“I want you to do some research.” Another file appeared on the table and she flipped it open. There was a report about wolves in England and how they had been hunted to extinction centuries ago. A list of reference books was included and stapled to that were excerpts of local werewolf legends. Part man and part wolf, they roamed the woods, their change dictated by the lunar cycle. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Werewolves were always the same—dogs. Woodcut pictures of wolves stealing children from their beds or destroying livestock were at the end. The pictures were creepy and odd. Almost out of place as well, but Val couldn't have said why.
“So you think there are werewolves, huh?”
“Possibly.”
“Hmm. And you think I could find them?” She said skeptically.
“If they exist, you have the best chance of finding them. They will not come near a vampire, especially not me. Also, my people do not need to know my plans. I suspect they would be irritated.”
“Why do I feel like that’s an understatement?”
“Because you have both beauty and intelligence.”
Nice. “You said they were violent. Why start with them and not the Fey or some friendly wiccans?”
“There are no friendly wiccans. It’s impossible. Do not concern yourself with the choice I have made, simply carry it out.”
Like a please would kill him.
He continued to stare out the window and she thought that Lucas was not normal. It was like he played at human, but then when it all fell away he was not quite a corpse, but not alive either. It was hard to determine what made him seem so inhuman.
“It's because I don't breathe.” He didn't turn towards her but continued to stare out the window so she could only see his profile.
How the fuck does he know these things?
“You look at me and I can sense your...conflict,” he said the word very precisely.
She wanted to contradict him but anything that kept his interest in her at bay was probably for the best. Besides he was a vampire, it didn't really matter if he was beautiful.
“Let’s pretend I find a werewolf. Then what? Take some doggy treats and hope for the best? What do you think I am going to do? Why would they even talk to me? You say they are in hiding, population decimated and you want me to saunter in and talk to them?”
“I endorse you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You would be a neutral party, given safe passage through their lands.”
“But, I'm basically your puppet.”
“Your father is a Hunter. Known for killing my kind. That will help.”
“Won't they just think you brainwashed me?” She thought about her response to him in her room and wondered if she was under his thrall even now.
“If they have the methods of their ancestors they will know how to discern your mental freedom.”
“What are they going to find? Am I 'mentally free'?”
“Do you feel compelled?” He watched her like a cat looks at catnip.
How would she know? He held out his hand towards her, “Come to me,” he said commandingly.
She stayed where she was. Did she feel like going to him? Only cause he was sexy and she liked him saying ‘come to me’. But she didn’t feel controlled.
“No mind control?”
“That is correct.”
“Maybe not right now, but what about earlier today or even tomorrow? If you wanted to, could you make me do what you wanted?”
“Go to the wolves. Norfolk first,” he said, avoiding the question. He placed a card down on the table. It had two phone numbers on it with two different country codes, 44 which was England and 420.
Oh, Christ, Jack! “The Czech Republic, huh? Is that where Marion is too?” Please let Jack be looking for someone besides Lucas.
His penetrating gaze rested on her and she wondered if he knew that Jack had a base near him. Surely, he was trying to make a bid for Lucas if he was there. “No. She is not allowed in that part of Europe.”
Her stomach suddenly hurt like she’d eaten a dozen jalapenos.
“What are you expecting me to do about Marion? With that file?”
“You have given it to Jack?”
Val decided to leave her tampons out of the picture. “Not yet.”
She didn't want him to know Jack was in town. How could she trust that Lucas would really protect him? She needed time to think and work through all the information that had been thrown at her.
“Then give it to him.”
“Do you honestly believe that the only reason vampires have been killed by Hunters is because of your information and help, whatever that is?” She didn't mean it in a snarky way, she just wanted to know.
“There is a lot of preparation involved in killing a vampire. If he or she is over a few hundred years it would be near impossible, without my intervention.”
“With wooden bullets and silver and holy water? They all seem very effective.”
Several seconds went by before Lucas spoke. As though deciding how much information he would tell her. “He'd be better off with a sawed off shotgun. It's more draining for the vampire to eject multiple pieces of wood than a single wooden bullet. Small slivers consume near as much energy to heal as a large one.”
“That doesn't make any sense. It seems like it would be harder to regenerate a wider hole than a smaller one.”
“It's mental focus and direction of power. That's never a pure process. Energy is lost in the transfer. The pieces are smaller and require more power to be precise.” He nodded his head slightly, “I will see you tonight.”
Tonight?!?
And then he was gone.
Val spent the day in her room and drove herself crazy trying to put everything together. She wrote down everything Lucas had told her about vampires and even wrote down most of her encounters with him. She left out the towel situation. If she turned up dead, she wanted Jack and her father to know the truth. But that didn't mean she needed them to know that Lucas made her hot and bothered.
She recoiled from the thought. Wasn't it enough that he was a vampire? That alone should make him unattractive. The fact that he was dead and a killer should push him over the limit to barf-worthy. Sure, he dressed well and was good looking, had all that hair and rocked the Viking chic look better than anyone had in several hundred years, but honestly, if she thought her and Jack were a bad match, her and Lucas was suicide.
Hers.
She went to her jewelry box and found a silver cross that her father had given her years ago. She put it on and hoped that would help. Her feelings were not natural. And that’s all there is to it.