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“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.
