Authors: Michele Hauf
S
he handed him his shirt. He sat on the corner of the bed, unwillingly dressing. Ravin knew it was reluctance because each time she pulled a pant leg down his thigh, he kissed her and they made love. Again. For about the fourth or fifth time, surely.
Now even she was tired. And she simply stood there, arms crossed loosely across her bare stomach, watching as Nikolaus drew the soft gray jersey shirt over his arms. They were thick with muscle. But few scars remained on the underside of his left arm, mere scratches, really.
No longer did she wince. She’d hurt him. But now she was renewing him, thanks to the magic she gave him each time they made love.
Would he hate her for this when the spell was broken? Surely.
I hope not.
Nikolaus was the forgiving sort. Yet she knew little about him beyond that he could touch her with a smile and kill her with his body. And that he preferred peace to war.
“Tell me about your life?” The question frightened her, but she assumed a casual pose. I’m just chatting with the vampire, getting to know him better. Wasn’t there a saying about keeping one’s enemies close? “Has the tribe abandoned you since the attack?”
“They wait for my return. A phoenix is revered.”
“Guess I’m responsible for your step up in the world, eh?”
And for creating something that vampires across the world may actually fear—if he really was indestructible.
Oh, she was definitely going to hell for this one. Good thing she knew the proprietor. Thinking of which…she had yet to receive approval for completing obligation number two a second time. Had she screwed up again?
For the welfare of her very soul she prayed she had not.
“So what does your tribe think of this? You coming to see me and having sex with me and—” Ravin swallowed “—loving me?”
“They don’t know. I would be destroyed, you should know that.”
“So why do you do it?”
“Because I can’t
not
come to you,” he said, his voice tired, but from more than exertion.
And for the first time Ravin wondered what he sacrificed because of the spell. Did it draw on his energy to comply with something so opposite his very nature? Surely he must be drained, for some inner knowing in him must comprehend it was wrong, and fight against it, even as he kissed her and made her cry out in ecstasy.
“Sooner, preferably, rather than later, the spell will be broken, and you will be free to kill me as you originally intended,” she said lightly. And she deserved that death now, didn’t she? Hell, yes. “Not that you don’t kill me over and over every moment I’m in your arms.”
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
He pulled her onto his lap. Stroking her hair from her face, he looked into her eyes. Nikolaus’s eyes were not black as she’d originally thought that first time she had stared him down in her kitchen, but a deep, piercing blue that glinted with shards of ice. He had been through much in his lifetime. She could see it there.
“How long have you lived?”
“As a vampire? Two decades.”
“So you’re quite young.”
“You, sweetness, have successfully robbed the cradle.”
Yeah? And she’d once dated a three-hundred-year-old faery changeling, so she’d swung all the way toward robbing the grave, as well.
“What did you do before you were transformed?”
His eyes twinkled. Could she ever get enough of the charismatic rogue?
“Brain surgery.”
She laughed. “Ah, but of course, the long-haired, tattooed doctor who charms people with his smile while he sucks their blood when they’re not looking. But seriously.”
“Seriously.”
“You were a brain surgeon? An actual, real live…?”
“Four years premed, four more for my M.D., a long and illustrious five-year residency, and I had just begun my first year on the neurosurgery rotation.”
“Wow. I had no idea. I mean, you sounded real smart with your comments about the brain, but I just thought…Huh. A brain surgeon.”
“Master of the Universe, actually. I could save a man with a few strokes of the scalpel through his gray matter. I could poke and prod and cause pain in the quest for a cure, and the patients would grit their teeth and thank me.
Thank
me for hurting them. It was a damn heady position to be in. I was a god.”
“So that’s where the arrogance comes from.”
“Didn’t get it from med school, sweetness. Always had it. Of course, I don’t think I—or any man—could poke around inside a person’s skull without a healthy dose of arrogance.”
“I suppose. I’m guessing you didn’t give it up willingly. Brain surgeons make the big bucks, don’t they?”
“Yep. And my career was proving very lucrative. Paid off my student loans within a few years. Bought me a nice house on Lake Minnetonka. All the big electronic toys and gadgets—you know like Atari and a CB radio.”
“The seventies, eh?”
“You know it. Can’t imagine what I’d have spent my money on had I been in med school this century. The gadgets keep getting smaller and fancier, and more expensive every year. Anyway, I was happy. I even had a fiancée.”
“You did?” Ravin felt a plummeting sensation in her chest.
Not a confession she’d been expecting to hear. He’d…loved before? Of course he had. A man as gorgeous and compassionate as Nikolaus Drake would not live alone, even if he tried.
He nodded. “I loved her, too.”
“I see.” Suddenly her nakedness felt very stark. She couldn’t tug up the sheet because Nikolaus sat on them.
“Don’t worry, sweetness, it was twenty years ago. I was a normal mortal man with a normal life, and a pretty girlfriend, but she wasn’t in it for the long haul.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, when I got the brain tumor things went downhill, including our relationship.”
“
You
had a brain tumor? But that’s so…”
“Ironic? That was my first thought.” He stretched his arms behind his head, unashamed of his near-nudity, and why should he be? And there was that erection, ever hard, and always wanting attention.
Nikolaus crossed his legs and nudged Ravin’s thigh with a knee. She knew he was giving her the wink. A look she knew meant “let’s do it”.
“Tell me more,” she said. “Then sex.”
“Deal. I spent more than a dozen years in medical school studying how to take a tumor out of a man’s skull, then the bloody tumor shows up in my head.”
“What did you do?”
“Had it taken out by one of the best neurosurgeons at the Mayo clinic. A man who had been my mentor for a dozen years of my life. The tumor was completely removed, but, well…the scalpel slipped.”
“It
slipped?
”
“Happens sometimes. In the seventies, we didn’t have the stereostatic technique they use nowadays. Tumors had to be excised with a surgeon’s intuition as guide.”
“You mean he was going at your brain with a knife, blind?”
“Not exactly, though it made it difficult to determine the edge of the tumor from healthy brain tissue. I couldn’t hold a grudge against the surgeon—we all had it happen at some time or other. We believe we are God, but the truth is, no one is perfect. Suffered some serious complications because of that slip.”
“What sort of complications?”
“Lost motor control on my left side due to the tumor hugging the motor cortex. I couldn’t walk without swerving, nor could I use my hands properly. I looked like a drunken old bastard who spends his days in the bar and his nights staking out the liquor store. Made it impossible to ever operate again.
“Julie, my fiancée, left me after I started emulating that drunken old bastard by drinking and teasing danger. I had a death wish. Hell, I’d survived brain surgery, but the Big Guy had decided I didn’t need to use my hard-earned skills to survive anymore. That was irony at its most cutting.”
“So that’s why you’re so smart. Twelve years of medical school?”
He traced his mouth over her elbow, nipping it with the sharpened points of his canines, but not drawing blood. “Doesn’t take smarts to be a brain surgeon, sweetness, just a steady hand. Had I been smarter I wouldn’t have succumbed to a reckless life. After the surgery I was pissed at the world.”
“Is that when you got the tattoos?”
“Yep. Went bald for a year. The tattoos were meant to scream at the world and keep it at a distance. Worked.”
“Must have been awful to lose so prestigious a job.”
“Hell, yes. On the other hand, I no longer had the outrageous malpractice insurance bills. Those cut deep into a doctor’s profit, let me tell you. Though it wasn’t half so bad in the seventies as I hear it is nowadays.”
“People expect miracles. And if they don’t get them, they want compensation of some sort.”
“Exactly,” Nikolaus agreed. “We may act like gods, but doctors are no more powerful than the common man. We are taught a means to attempt to change or save lives, but ultimately it is the patient’s own God who determines whether a particular crap shot will win or lose.”
He flexed both his hands before him. Ravin clasped her fingers through his left. He squeezed reassuringly. “It seems you can use them both now.”
“Vampirism has been very very good to me.”
“I’ve heard that—that the transformation fixes even genetic defects. So what if you would have been transformed
before
the operation to remove the tumor?”
“Huh.” Nikolaus nudged up the pillow to prop his head. “In all these years that is one question I have never asked myself. What if?”
“So…what if?”
“Well, I might be an old man still cutting into people’s brains right now if vampirism could have sucked out the tumor the way I suck blood from people’s necks. Nah, I’d still be a vampire. I could never be a surgeon around all that blood.”
“Maybe a little blood sex magic would have done the trick?”
“You would have never done that for me. Even if I wasn’t a vampire at the time.”
“Oh, you never know. You do have a certain charm….”
“Ravin, are you coming over to the dark side?”
“Already there, Drake. Been walking the dark for two centuries. I know witches call vamps
the dark
and themselves
the light
, but trust me, you can’t get any darker than I am.”
“I suppose dealing with the devil has something to do with that. You’ve seen a lot, I’m sure.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand it. It’s such a twisty thing that brought us together.”
“I like the way you put that. Brought us together. We. Us. We’re together. A couple.” He slid his hand down her stomach and Ravin parted her legs to allow him entry. “Tell me you love me, Ravin. It’s all I live for.”
It shimmered right there, in her belly, and at her core. The threat of bliss. The overwhelming release of power, surrender to the enemy.
Happiness.
But as he teased her to the edge of surrender, Ravin couldn’t stop the words that spilled from her lips, “I…can’t.”
H
ard to believe, after having sex with the woman for nearly a week straight, it could actually continue to get better.
“So tell me,” Ravin said, rolling to her back and looking up. “Where do you go after you’ve been with me? Home? Back to your tribe?”
“Why?”
“I’ve invested a certain amount of emotion into…us. I need some details.”
Briefly, the thought that she was gathering information for her own needs—like the hunt of his kind—paused Nikolaus. But he knew better. The witch had come around.
“When I leave here I go home. Home is my tribe, but I live separately from them.”
“The Kila tribe has been stirring up a lot of trouble lately.”
“It’s Truvin Stone. He’s taken them in a completely opposite direction to where I have always steered them. We don’t raise trouble or tread wolf territory merely for the thrill of it. I teach my men that we must learn to get along with everyone. We are the minority. Mortals have the upper hand.”
“And the wolves?”
He smirked, revealing a wickedly gleeful side of him. “Werewolves are lesser than the vamps, but I won’t begrudge them their territory. We can all exist peaceably. It’s not that difficult. It simply requires respect.”
“Your men must have great respect for you.”
“They did. Once.” He shrugged. “Now? I’m not sure what to expect upon my return. Gabriel reports the tribe is eager to see me. It’s mostly curiosity over my being a phoenix. But Truvin…”
“You expect Stone to make your return difficult?”
“Truvin is respected, but for all the wrong reasons. He’s powerful, and I know he won’t step down from leadership without a fight. I’m ready for it.” He smacked a fist into his palm. The punch actually stung.
“You just surprised yourself, didn’t you?” Ravin took his palm and opened it to trace the residual sting. “Strong one, aren’t you?”
“I’m getting stronger. Every day now, it’s like I exert so little energy to do what once taxed me.”
“It’s the sex magic.”
“Does this mean I’m bewitched?”
“I believe so. Which makes you a rarity.” She kissed his collarbone and traced a finger down the center of his ribs. “Only the ancient vampires are bewitched. And perhaps one or two who have been successful in gaining immunity to a witch’s blood. I know of one other modern vampire who is immune and also bewitched. He’s a rock star.”
“A rock star?”
“Yep, he lives his life before the public, and in the shadows he loves a witch, one of my good friends.”
“Well, I’ll be. What’s his name? Just so I can know to walk carefully around him.”
“He’s not violent. He sings for The Fallen. You heard of Michael Lynsay?”
“Don’t follow the rock ’n’ roll bands. I prefer orchestral arrangements myself. Mozart is my favorite. Guitar stuff is good, too, if it has a bit of a hard edge to it.”
“So you know about Sebastian DelaCourte? The man was once a star on the rock ’n’ roll scene, a solo guitar player whose roots are in flamenco. And also a vampire.”
“Didn’t know that, either. But good to start a list. How can they live such public lives and still protect their secret? And what’s the draw to stand in the spotlight?”
“You’re young yet. And wise. You understand the need for privacy and will, no doubt, survive for centuries because of it.” She leaned in and kissed him. “I admire your strength, Nikolaus. And your impeccable values.”
“I’m not sure they’re impeccable.”
“You won’t stand for murder. You would never harm another—”
“Without provocation.”
“Yes, without provocation,” she murmured the words he’d used days earlier.
Why did you attack us? Without provocation?
She had been doing this far too long. And now she felt it. And while she could justify murder in the name of all the witches of the world, and all the innocent mortals, she could no longer justify it in the name of her parents.
The balance, it had to shift.
“I’m sorry, Nikolaus.”
“What for, sweetness? For making me love you? I’m over it. Slide up here and snuggle against me. There. That’s good. You smell like…mmm, snow in the summer.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I love snow. Wish it was here all year long. I’ve got a shed full of snowmobiles and four-wheelers that I love to take up north to the Boundary Waters come snowfall. So yes, it’s a very good thing. Know what else?”
“What?” Ravin felt a hot teardrop slide down her cheek as he moved to fit his body to hers.
“I can feel you running through my veins. It’s like molecules of witch coursing along with the white and red blood cells. My whole arterial system tingles every time I think of you.”
Please don’t let it be the spell talking.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you and your tribe,” she said. “It wasn’t right. I need to take a step back and learn to think before reacting. I don’t know everything, though you’d think a few centuries would have taught me a bit. Hell, age does not for wisdom make.”
“It is who you are, Ravin. And while you look at it from mortal standards it may seem a harsh and reckless life, from our point of view—that of
the dark
and
the light—
well, I suppose someone has to do it.”
Nikolaus traced the slash marks on her chest. “Tell me how a gorgeous witch like you got involved with the devil?”
“It’s not as if I went looking for Himself. No one ever does.” Ravin pushed up to sit with the pillows propped behind her. “He came to me. Have you ever had a chat with Himself?”
“Can’t say I have. Though, would I know?”
“You can’t miss the smell of brimstone that fills the air when he’s near. But he only manifests as your greatest temptation, which is a hell of a kicker.”
“You mean he looks like someone you want to get busy with?”
“Exactly.”
Though, thankfully, Ravin couldn’t summon an ounce of desire for Johnny Depp anymore. Good. And not good. First, her favorite movie star had been ruined for her. No more
Pirates of the Caribbean
for her. Second, she wouldn’t know to recognize Himself when next he showed. And she knew she hadn’t seen the last of him.
She tapped the lines above her bellybutton. “Three strikes and I’m out, that’s the deal.”
“So you’ve to do three tasks for the devil, then you’re free of him?”
“Exactly. Except Himself calls them obligations. Three obligations, and my soul is once again mine.”
“And for that you got…?”
“The Sight.”
“You couldn’t see before?”
“Vampires. I know them on sight now.”
Nikolaus made a gesture toward himself as if to say, “Well, here I am, what’s the deal?”
“You know a vampire could stand right next to a mortal, witch, elf, faery, what-have-you, and none of them would be the wiser. Your own kind can only tell one another by the shimmer.” The shimmer was a tingling sensation a vampire felt when touched by another of his kind. “But unless you flash your fangs, the rest of us never know. Until it’s too late.”
“And yet, you stalk us as prey. What makes you believe you’re always getting your vampire?”
“Well, there you go. I’ve always followed the tribes, and have known who the members are. But when I strike, I kill everything in sight. Trouble is, the tribes have their mortal supplicants that they either haven’t yet turned, or are just toying with.”
“Cory.”
“Yes.” She remembered him telling her how he’d been forced to feed on Kila’s mortal supplicant to survive.
He’d gone dark and quiet. Ravin knew not to push, because she had been the reason for his need to survive. She had killed a mortal that night.
“That’s the thing, see,” she said softly. “Himself was able to tell me that in all my strikes over two centuries, I’ve actually killed five innocent mortals. I don’t like those numbers, but what can I do? Himself offered me the ability to See vampires. I jumped at the chance. I don’t like to kill innocents. I’m not that cold-blooded.”
“Your blood is actually very warm. So what does a vampire look like to you? How are they different from anything else when you’re standing there with your gun raised and hell in your eyes?”
“I see their auras. A vampire aura is like rubies and ash. Kinda cool, actually, for longtooths.”
“You say that as if we’re the lowest things to walk the earth.”
“You are,” she said, too quickly. But it was the truth, to Ravin. And until a week earlier she would have labeled Nikolaus the same, and in the same hateful tone. Not now. “Except you.”
He pulled away. “Now you’re backtracking. You meant it when you said we all are. Me included.”
“I’ve had a change of heart about you.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you. I’ve spent time with you. You, Nikolaus, mean…”
“Mean what? You can’t say it. You can’t say you love me because you don’t.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think I can ever love.
Love
is some fairy tale word for mortals and princesses and schoolgirl dreams. Life is much more complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” He leaned in and kissed her.
Why had this poor vampire chosen her apartment to burst into on the night she had concocted that idiot love spell!
“Your parents loved you,” he murmured.
The slide of his body, his rough, masterful warmth, over her bare arms and chest and stomach, stirred the desire back to the surface. But now he’d put the image of her parents into her mind, and Ravin pressed her fists to her eyes and let out a repressed scream.
“What’s wrong?” His breaths gasped near her ear.
She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to know him. She didn’t want to have to remember. They had loved her. The only two people in this world who had ever touched her so gently, and kissed her every night, and whispered how much they loved her.
He drew her into his arms and smoothed his hand over the back of her head. And though Ravin wished to push away and run and bury her face in her hands and cry, she clung to his giving openness and opened her mouth to sob.
“I understand,” he said. “It’s what you know. And I still love you.”
His confession broke open a flood of tears, and Ravin cried into the night against her lover’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to do this anymore. Do you think I did a bad thing making that deal with Himself? I thought it was good, you know, that way I’d never again accidentally kill a mortal. I thought the balance that has so horribly bent my life out of whack would begin to be restored, but…”
He slid a hand around and spread it across her stomach. Burying his nose in her hair, he whispered softly against her ear. “Stick with me, sweetness. I’ll be your compass. You want to stop? I’ll do what I can to make it happen.”
She turned and bracketed his face with her hands. Sniffing away a tear, she touched his lips with a finger. “Nothing can change until I complete the final obligation.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t know, but will you help me?”
“Yes, I promise.”