Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) (49 page)

Devereux surprised me last week by organizing a film retrospective of several well-known vampire movies at the site of last October’s Vampires’ Ball. He invited so many real bloodsuckers who’d played the roles that my head spun. Not only was Valentino there, but also the two actors I’d seen at the wedding—including the gorgeous Latin heartthrob—plus a very young, intense dark-haired Broadway performer who’d added new levels of sensuality to the genre in the early 1980s. My mind boggled as I was introduced to more and more actors who turned out to be the real deal. I’m still star-struck!

Michael continues his transition from half-thing into full vampire. He came to visit me at my office one night to apologize for telling so many lies. He said it would probably take months more before he was completely reborn. He offered to talk to me about his experiences and his knowledge of the vampire world, and I readily agreed. Since we’re both being honest now, spending time together is pleasant. We actually talk more about “normal” therapy issues than the madness of the undead. Once he transforms, he’d like to hang out his shingle again as a therapist to the bloodsucking community. I’m looking forward to it.

Alan has been so busy reacquainting himself with his mother and dealing with the FBI that we’ve hardly spoken. Since he’d focused his life on exploring the truth about his mother, and he now has most of the pertinent facts, he isn’t sure what he wants to do anymore. He and Devereux came up with a plan to satisfy the FBI’s demand that Alan find the human serial killer pretending to be a vampire, or turn the case over to someone else. Alan alerted the San Francisco police, including Detective Andrews, his gorgeous, ass-kicking upholder of justice, that he had tracked the killer to an abandoned warehouse there. An unnamed source contacted the local and national media and the scene was set for a showdown. Devereux acted the role of the killer and swapped gunfire with Alan, who took a slug in the arm, just for appearance’s sake. By the time the police and FBI gathered to storm the building, it burst into flames. Alan, who’d apparently barely made it out alive, staggered clear, bloody and hurt—and a hero. Devereux had liberated an unidentified corpse from a Canadian morgue to be the remains found at the scene, and he also altered the minds of everyone he encountered, making sure they were all on the same page as far as Agent Stevens’ bravery and dedication to his work were concerned. Alan, triumphant, took a leave of absence from the Bureau to figure out the rest of his life. He told me he spent a couple of days in San Francisco with Detective Andrews. Non-business days. I know I don’t have any right to be jealous, but I still am. He told me he’ll be in touch soon. I hope that’s true.

Devereux is still struggling with his concerns about my ability to sense his emotions more distinctly—not to mention the fact that he can no longer read me as a matter of course, thanks to the elders’ blood and the hum. He was correct when he said he probably wouldn’t be able to curb his ego after so many centuries. Even though he tries very hard, he’s bossy, secretive, and certain he knows what’s better for me than I do. He’s still not telling me why I’m so important to him—I mean the
real
reason—but despite his domineering tendencies, I find him irresistible. There have been a couple of times that he infuriated me and raised my emotions to the point that my thoughts became available to him, and he took full advantage of the moment. He’s unrepentant about working to regain the upper hand. For some reason, that doesn’t bother me. Since dispatching Dracul and Lucifer—I didn’t want my part in the deed to be widely known, so Devereux gets credit for everything—he has once again assumed mythic proportions and has become the Penultimate Badass Master of the Vampires. He has reaffirmed his role as protector of the secret world of the undead. Needless to say, we don’t get to spend as much time together as we’d like. But we’ve agreed there’s no hurry. After all, I’m just starting to adjust to my strange, new reality. Surely, things can’t get any weirder than this … ?

Follow Kismet Knight’s continuing adventures in

Crimson Psyche, Vampire Psychologist, Book Three.

There are so many people to thank for the publication of this book it would take pages to acknowledge them all. Here are a few to whom I’d like to show special appreciation:

Jo Fletcher, editor extraordinaire, and publisher of Jo Fletcher Books, an imprint of Quercus Books, UK. She has been patient, kind, and supportive throughout our time together, and I am very lucky to have her as my editor.

Michael Fragnito, vice president and editorial director of Sterling Publishing, USA, and his staff, who have worked hard to keep my books moving forward despite ongoing challenges.

My agent, Robert Gottlieb, chairman of Trident Media Group, who continues to help me navigate the ever-changing world of publishing.

And of course I can’t forget my writer/author friends and brainstorming buddies who kept me afloat during some unexpected rough seas. Many thanks and much love to Betsy Dornbusch, Esri Allbritten, and Laurie Hawkins. To all my critique partners and beta readers, I send continuous gratitude. You are the best!

Most important of all are the wonderful readers who love Kismet and her world and who bombard me with emails asking for the next book: Thank you, thank you, thank you. This book is for you.