21
S
arah was lounging in Mandy’s office the next morning when Mandy dragged herself into work. The second Mandy stepped through the door, Sarah jumped to her feet. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Mandy dropped her purse onto her desk.
“You talked to him, right?”
“Sure, I talked to him.” She circled the desk.
“And you told him how you feel ... ?”
She slumped into her chair. “Not in so many words. But he knows.”
“And ...?”
“And all he had to say was that what he shares with Brent—or Bob or whatever his name is—is different from what we share.”
Sarah plopped her tush onto Mandy’s desk. “That’s something.”
“That’s not enough, dammit.” Mandy rubbed her palms over her face, totally smearing her makeup. She didn’t give a damn. “Shit. I thought I was okay with this.”
Sarah sighed as she swung one leg over the other. “I completely understand. Look at me and Eric.”
“Yeah, speaking of you and Eric, what happened? It looked like your conversation was getting pretty intense.”
“It was.” She started avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the file sitting on Mandy’s desk.
“Tell me.”
Sarah sighed. “He got married.”
Mandy actually smacked her hands over her mouth. That was the last thing she’d been expecting to hear. And, looking at Sarah, it must have been the last thing she’d expected to hear, too. “Married? To a
woman?
”
“Yeah, a woman. That fucking bitch.”
“Ohmygod. When?”
“Last weekend. They went to Vegas. Said he wanted to tell me himself, before I heard about it from someone else. I was this close to kicking him in the nuts when he told me.” Sarah indicated a tiny fraction of an inch with her finger and thumb.
“I would be, too.”
“I still can’t believe he married her. After he held me off all those years, telling me he couldn’t commit because he loved Christopher ...” Sarah stared down at the desk again. “That was after I found out Valdez is married.”
“No!”
“Yes. Bastards. Both of them.” Looking broken, defeated, Sarah slumped her shoulders. “I’m getting sick and tired of men. Maybe I should turn lesbian.”
“Can you ‘turn’ lesbian?” Mandy absentmindedly shuffled through the reports Sarah had stacked on her desk.
“I don’t know.” Sarah’s gaze slowly dragged up to Mandy’s. Her eyes were watery now and red.
“Oh, hon. I’m sorry. Men suck.” Mandy took Sarah’s hand in hers. It was small, delicate, fragile. Oddly, Mandy had always seen her friend as a strong woman, the mistress she played in the dungeons.
Sarah gave Mandy a watery half smile. “I think we should both turn lesbian. I’d do you.”
Mandy felt her face go colorless. She remembered all too well how those three women had made her feel a couple weeks ago. Could she actually go there with Sarah?
No way.
With her free hand, she grabbed the tissue box out of her desk drawer and set it within Sarah’s reach.
“I was just kidding,” Sarah said, a humorless laugh hiding her pain. She dabbed at her eyes with a scented tissue.
The chime on the agency’s front door tinkled.
Saved by the bell.
Sarah hopped up. “I’ll go see who that is. Maybe it’s a new client.”
“Thanks.” Mandy returned the tissue box to the drawer and rummaged in her purse for her cell phone. A tap sounded on her door. She glanced up and stood, prepared to open the door for her visitor.
The door opened. Zane.
“Amanda. I need to talk to you.” Stepping inside, he pointed to the door. “May I?”
Mandy nodded. “Sure.”
He closed it, then, after waiting for her to sit, took a seat in the chair in front of her desk. “I’ve been thinking about things. About what happened last night at the party.”
Oh, shit, here we go.
Lie? Or tell the truth?
Truth.
“Zane, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about it, too. But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to explain anything. From the beginning you told me you couldn’t get involved in a committed relationship. I agreed to your terms. I have no right to expect something else from you now.”
Zane leaned forward, resting an arm on her desktop. “Maybe you feel you have no right, but I know I’ve led you to believe things were progressing that way.”
“Did you intentionally try to mislead me?”
“No, but—”
“It’s not your fault, then, is it?”
Zane stood. Mandy hoped he’d stay where he was. Keeping the desk between them would make it a whole lot easier to stay somewhat objective. Of course, he didn’t.
She pushed to her feet as he came around to her side of the desk and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him the don’t-come-too-close vibe.
As usual, he ignored it, crowding closer. “Amanda, I can’t begin to describe my feelings for you. When I said what we share is different, special, I meant it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
“Okay, I understand.” She tightened her arms.
“No, you don’t.” Looking intense, Zane jammed his fingers through his hair. “I can’t stop thinking about you, wondering what you’re doing, where you are, if you’re safe... .” He lifted her chin, staring into her eyes. “I can’t get enough of you. I can’t kiss you enough. I can’t touch you enough. I can’t hear that sweet little voice of yours enough.”
She really, really liked what she was hearing. But what exactly was he trying to tell her?
“And I can’t fathom the thought of losing you.”
“What makes you think you might?” she asked.
Zane didn’t speak for a handful of tense moments. Mandy waited, watched, as he visibly thought through whatever he was about to say next. Finally, his gaze found hers. “I need to tell you something. I’ve never cared so much for a woman that I’ve felt the need to tell her this.”
Was he Married? “Okay, Zane.”
“What you saw last night wasn’t exactly what you think.”
He’d been fucking someone, a male. Was he trying to tell her he hadn’t been fucking? Had he not penetrated his partner? Where was this going?
“Fucking is part of a practice, a procedure,” he explained.
He wasn’t even trying to deny the fact that he was fucking someone else. But why call it a “procedure”? That was a very odd term to use. Clinical.
“Was it some kind of ... therapy?” she asked, intentionally revealing her confusion.
“No, not exactly. It’s more like foreplay.”
“Foreplay?” she echoed, feeling more confused than ever. How was this conversation supposed to make her feel better about things? It was having the exact opposite effect. “Foreplay to
what?
”
“To pain,” Zane said.
Lightbulb.
“Okay, I get it now. It’s part of the whole S and M thing.”
“No, not in Bruce’s case. It’s part of a relationship we’ve shared for over forty years.”
Forty years?
“A mutually beneficial one, in which we both get something we need.”
Sex.
“In my case, it’s sustenance. Blood.”
Blood?
“Huh?”
“You don’t know this, but there are beings walking among you that aren’t mortal. Beings like me.”
Beings?
She realized midstride that she was taking a step backward. “What do you think you are?”
“We’re
Dejenen.
Vampires.”
Oh, God. He was one of those people—the ones who thought they were vampires. She’d read about vampirism online. There were folks who actually drank blood. It was one of the creepiest things she’d ever read about. Right up there with people who had sex with animals.
She should’ve known he had some ugly skeletons in his closet. He’d earned a reputation among people who had very loose definitions of right and wrong. In a world of gray, he’d somehow become a black sheep. Now she understood why.
The question was, did this change how she felt about him? Would knowing that he drank blood make her heart ache less when she wasn’t with him? Would she stop dreaming about him every freaking night?
She wished it would. But she had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t.
“You know what, I’m not going to judge you. If you think you’re a vampire, then ... Wait a minute. You said ‘forty years’?” When he nodded, she asked, “How old are you?”
“I’ll be two hundred thirty-eight on my next birthday.”
Two hundred thirty-eight.
“Isn’t that ... fascinating.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“Sure, I do.” She took another step back. “So, let me get this straight. You were fucking some man before you bit him because you’re a vampire and that’s what you need to do?”
He nodded. Moved closer. “It sounds crazy.”
She took a few more backward steps. “It sure does.”
“But it’s true,” he said, closing the distance between them again.
She fingered her neck. How many times had he nibbled her there? Grazed her skin with his teeth. “And because you need sustenance, you must fuck this guy before you bite him.”
“Yes.”
What a convoluted way to justify his actions.
Mandy wondered if Zane wasn’t a gay man trying to hide his true sexuality from himself. That was a distinct possibility.
Where would that leave her, though? She was a female. If Zane was indeed a gay guy trying to convince himself he was straight, she’d end up heartbroken sooner or later, when he finally accepted the truth about himself.
Zane stepped forward yet again, closing the gap between them. But this time he caught her arms in his fists, holding her in place. “I know it must be hard for you to believe this. But I’m telling you the truth. I couldn’t go on keeping these secrets from you. Not when I could see I was hurting you.”
“So you believe it’ll hurt less, now that you’ve told me you can’t help fucking your gay partner?”
Genuine pain flashed over his features. “You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you’ve convinced yourself that you’re a vampire. But, no, I don’t believe you are one. You’re a man. A man who needs to work some things out.”
Zane released her arms and sighed. “He said you probably wouldn’t believe me, but I was hoping—”
“Who?”
“Rolf.”
“Who’s Rolf?”
“Yes. He’s the guy who almost caught you with the camera at Twilight. He’s one, too. I went to him for some advice after you left the party.”
“Rolf’s a vampire, too?”
“Yes. In fact, his brother, the owner of Twilight, is our king.”
“King of the vampires?”
Zane’s jaw clenched. “You’re mocking me.”
She was. “I’m sorry. That isn’t nice of me.” A very awkward, strained silence stretched between them. Mandy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Is that all you came to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” More silence. “Thanks.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Of course, I won’t.” That was a lie, of course. The minute he left, she was going to tell Sarah. Not because they’d share a good laugh. Right now, she was too confused and frustrated to see the humor in the situation.
“Thank you.” He opened the door, stared at her for a long stretch. “Amanda, I ...”
When he didn’t finish his sentence, she waved. “Good-bye, Zane.”
“Bye.”
Mandy slumped into her chair, boneless.
Sarah shuffled in a couple of minutes later and took the chair Zane had occupied. “What was that all about?”
Mandy stared down at her desk, combing her fingers through her hair. “You’re not going to believe it.”
Sarah scooted the chair closer to the desk and leaned forward. “What?” She blinked wide eyes.
“He explained what he was doing with that guy last night.”
Sarah waved a hand. “What’s to explain? He was fucking him.”
“That’s what I thought, too. But actually, there’s more. You see, he wasn’t merely fucking him.” This time Mandy leaned forward, as if she was about to tell Sarah some big, shocking, dark secret. “Zane was preparing him for pain.”
“Sure, like S and M?”
“No, like a nasty bite on the neck.” Mandy tapped the side of her neck to illustrate.