Authors: Claire Cray
“His own beauty?”
“Well, it draws
his prey, you see.” Theo laughed.
“Has he always
hated it?”
“I didn’t say he
hates it. I said he is ashamed.” Theo held his nails up for his own casual
inspection. “No vampire hates it. There’s too much pleasure involved.”
“What pleasure?”
“In the blood. In
the killing. In the strength and the powers.”
“What powers?”
“You’ll see.”
I sighed at the
obtuse answer, but I
was
grateful that he was talking to me. After a few
moments I asked, “Did you stop seeing everyone you knew when you became a
vampire?”
Theo’s laugh was a
melodic sound, like crystal bells. “I was not quite the man about town you
are.”
“Will I still be
able to see my mother?”
“You and your
mother!” Theo marveled, then admitted, “Well, she
is
lovely. I had a
lovely mother, too. I’ve just forgotten.” He tossed his hair. “You can see your
mother. At night.”
“Will she not
notice my eyes?”
“Clever boy, of
course she will. There’s a way to get around it, but it isn’t the nicest. If
you go very, very thirsty, you will lose some of your otherworldly charms – including
these brilliant orbs. You will also look sick and tired and pale, and you will
be desperate to drink her blood. So it’s your choice.”
Then, suddenly, he
changed the subject. “He doesn’t miss me yet, does he?”
“He hasn’t
mentioned it.”
“Ah, you little
bastard,” Theo sighed. “Getting him all to yourself.”
“When did you
meet?”
“In Italy, in
1552. I found him myself and took him under my wing.”
“You’re older than
he is?”
“No! I was turned
in 1538.”
I did the math
quickly. He was 279 years old. It struck me suddenly how remarkable this was.
“Are you all so old?”
“Hardly,” Theo
scoffed. “Well,” he amended. “Out of those who survive past a hundred and fifty
or so, I suppose many go on for centuries more. But many go to sleep instead.”
“Why?”
“They are not
creative enough to keep themselves amused for hundreds of years. Or they
succumb to melancholy.”
“Have you met many
others?”
“At times I meet
them. But I prefer not to. It is hard to make friends among vampires.”
“Why?”
Theo shrugged.
“Some are wonderful. But few of our generation. Different eras, different
beasts…”
He caught my hand
suddenly and stopped me. “Tell me, morsel. Is he truly well?”
“He seems well.”
“I wonder how long
this can last, this thing between you…”
“How do you know
what you know?” I asked, suddenly puzzled. “How do you know that every vampire
must make another vampire in order to go on?”
“Not every vampire
must. Those without conscience simply turn cold and wicked.”
I had wondered
about that – whether it could be true that every vampire was eventually so
overwhelmed by guilt. “Then it is principally a crisis of conscience.”
Theo gave me an
incredulous scowl. “You want to wax philosophical
now?
Are you afraid
you won’t have time for it later? You will. Trust me.”
I conceded with a
nod. It was easy to take Theo lightly, but I tried to remember there was much
more beneath his glittering, flippant demeanor – two and a half centuries more.
“Still,” I insisted. “How do you know he must turn me?”
Theo put his hands
in his pockets, lifting his chin and breathing in the night air again. “It
isn’t only thirst that drives us. We don’t just want to drink your human blood,
Will-iam. We want to drink it
all
.” His blue eyes slid sideways to meet
mine. “Understand?”
I almost wished I
didn’t. But I still remembered what Merrick had said when I’d asked him if he
often killed:
It is difficult to be satisfied if I do not.
Did Theo not
mean that it was human death they craved as much as human blood?
That my
humanity triggered not only Merrick’s thirst, but his drive to kill?
It was a chilling
thought. “Suppose he is able to resist indefinitely.”
“See how that
goes!” Theo laughed wickedly and leaned in close, dropping his voice to a
murmur. “You cannot imagine what feelings overcome him, what hunger consumes
him each time you bare your throat. I am sure he is very good at hiding it.”
His blue eyes dropped to the space below my ear. “But how long can a wolf and a
lamb share a bed?” There was a feral gleam in his smile.
I made to move
away, but found myself caught by his hands at my jacket. I wrenched myself
free, scowling.
Theo blinked, and
then looked amused. “Sorry,” he said. “I got carried away. It happens so
easily, you see.” He stepped back. “Moving here has bought you some time.
Plenty of other lambs here to stave off hunger. But don’t underestimate the
instincts you are putting to the test.”
I had no reply.
“Well!” Theo said
cheerfully. “You’ve worked up my appetite! I must be off. It’s been a pleasure,
young morsel Lacy.”
“Stay out of the
lower east. And stay away from my mother.”
“Yes, yes. I’ve
already heard my orders.” He sauntered off ahead of me, flipping a salute
without looking back.
“Merry Christmas,
William.”
My mother kissed
me warmly outside of the carriage, looking fresh and beautiful in her new green
velvet cloak and fine black hat.
“Merry Christmas,
Mum,” I murmured, hugging her close.
What a perfect day
it had been.
That morning, I’d
surprised her at home her gifts. My heart ached with love when I saw her face
light up at the cloak and hat, and I nearly burst for joy that afternoon when I
led her into Merrick’s comfortable dining room for a fine Christmas dinner
prepared by the cooks.
When Merrick had
suggested that I bring Mum for the holiday, I was stunned and delighted. We
agreed that we could conceivably manage the introduction, for she had never
known anything of his age or appearance. Just to be safe, Merrick went thirsty
for two days leading up to Christmas and used a few cosmetic tricks to make
himself look older. By the time he was done, he could believably pass himself
for a well-preserved man in his mid-thirties.
When they met, he
kissed her hand and clasped it warmly, making her acquaintance with such charm
that I was glad she made such a happy spinster; otherwise, he might have stolen
her heart. And he entertained her graciously all through dinner. I couldn’t
recall having had such a wonderful time. We talked well into evening, the two
of them holding forth on the city and the forest and the Indians whose blood we
shared.
Now, outside of
the carriage, Merrick kissed her gloved hand. “It was a great pleasure, Madam.”
“The pleasure was
entirely mine, Sir,” she replied, her dark eyes warm and pleased. He had
charmed her entirely.
I helped her into
the carriage and bid her goodnight, then watched it disappear down the snowy
road. It was bitterly cold, and I was shivering.
I wondered where
Theo was. Perhaps he was not the type to care about Christmas. Or perhaps he
was celebrating with his own feast.
In Merrick’s
bedroom, beneath the warm blankets, I pulled him close and kissed him tenderly
all over his lips and cheeks and neck. I rubbed my face against his chest,
holding him tight, thanking him silently for sharing such a lovely celebration
with my little family. And he held me close, stroking my hair and rubbing my
back. His hands were cold, which I knew now as a sign of thirst.
“Will you go out?”
I whispered, running my hands through his hair.
He smiled against
my cheek. “On Christmas? No. Let them all walk in peace.”
I imagined there
were plenty of non-observers out there who could be of assistance – but that
was a strange thought to have. I brushed it aside lightly and gently pulled his
face toward my neck.
He kissed me
softly there, where my vein ran close to the surface of my skin, but shook his
head and turned his face away.
“To tide you
over,” I coaxed, then added, “For Christmas.”
His hands
tightened on my back. His whisper was quiet, almost inaudible. “I should not be
close to you when I am thirsty, William.”
I lifted his head
and gazed into his eyes. They were beautiful even without their otherworldly
shine, and I loved them. “I am ready,” I said softly, and quickly continued
when I saw on his face that he was about to protest. “But I would like my
birthday to have a nice, round number. Something easy to keep track of over the
centuries.”
He made a pained
expression, but there was an abashed trace of amusement in his eyes, too. He
ran the back of his hand gently down the side of my face. “Is that so?”
“January 1st,
1800. It sounds very modern, doesn’t it?”
Merrick seemed
unable to suppress a small smile. “William,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“How are you so strange?”
“I assume you mean
that kindly…” I was surprised by a firm kiss.
Merrick teased my
lips until I was soft in his arms, and then he began to kiss his way down my
neck. “1801 sounds even more modern,” he breathed close to my ear.
“I’m just telling
you what I think,” I said peacefully, and gasped when his teeth scraped gently
against my skin. I squeezed his shoulders, urging him on.
“I will do my best
to make you happy, William.”
“I will do the
same for you, Merrick,” I breathed. He had broken the skin, and was gently
tasting the small drops of blood that rose to the surface. I sighed with
pleasure. “Damn it, please, drink…”
And he did.
Message from the Author
Thank you for reading my strange little story! I hope you
enjoyed getting to know William and Merrick. I’m sure I’ll see them again
sometime soon – I can’t help wondering how things will turn out for them.
Did you know that indentured apprenticeships really were
quite common in early America? Young boys and girls as old as eighteen could be
bound by the court to work under a tradesman for several years, either because
they’d fallen on the wrong side of the law or because their families were too
poor to support them. I’m pretty sure benevolent (hot) masters like Merrick
didn’t exactly exist in abundance, though. Lucky William.
Update:
Guess what, friends? The sequel to this book,
William
, is available
now!
Until next time,
Claire Cray
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More Titles from Claire Cray
(A sequel to
Merrick.)
It is the year 1800 and
it looks like William Lacy will be young forever. The price is high: no more
book-selling, no more rowdy nights at the tavern, and no more New York. From
now on it’s a quiet life in the darkness…marked by acts once considered
unspeakable. And the reward? The reward is Silas Merrick. While unraveling the
secrets of the dark and alluring man who’s taken over his life, William has
seen mysteries revealed and desires laid bare. But there are greater depths and
darker waters yet as he learned to face the life he’s chosen for love.
Quiet vampire Cal has harbored a painful crush since becoming
an immortal seven years ago. Ira is more rock star than vampire: arrogant,
fickle, impulsive, impossibly gorgeous and heartbreakingly straight, he comes
and goes as he pleases with no apparent regard for Cal’s wishes or feelings.
When Ira disappears for the millionth time, Cal decides to get over him for
good – but the rock star returns with a shocking proposal that threatens to
change their dynamic forever.
(Short story)
When lifelong city boy Kyle ends up stranded by the side of
the highway in the middle of the Oregon backwoods, even his fear of rednecks
can't prepare him for the beasts he finds in the little town of Nester. His
only hope lies with Eli, the gorgeous local who promises to get him out of town
before the full moon rises...but not until he's had a taste of Kyle for
himself!
(Short story)
***
Cover art for
Merrick
Copyright
2012 Claire Cray
(Adapted from a painting by J.M.W. Turner)