Mike took the bills and stuffed them into his pocket. He then turned toward the prone body of Officer Mann and snapped his fingers several times. He smiled. And then turned back toward Dimitri and said, “Thanks.”
Mike turned to leave, but stopped after a few steps and looked back. “Tell me why?” he asked. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because you’ve helped me to understand something I had forgotten and needed to remember.”
“Who are you?” Mike asked.
“My name is Dimitri Bicannoff.”
“No, I mean, who are you?”
“I am man just like you. The only difference is that I have lived a very long time and I have learned that time does not change anything. It merely alters our perception of fear.”
“Well…” Mike began. The look of confusion on his face reflected he didn’t understand what Dimitri had meant. “Glad I could be of help.”
“Me too,” Dimitri said and disappeared into the night.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-T
WO
Christina stopped what she was doing and became still. Moments ago she felt her body responding to his touch in ways that she had never imagined possible. Feelings she had never attained in her short human life. However this new arousal of wanting John was also tantalizing her body as it had only been accustomed to when excited by hunger—whether for blood, or the taking of a life. She suddenly became aware that she couldn’t be sure which reaction would claim overall control of her. If she couldn’t decide or control which impulse would be the overriding sum of her actions, she risked John’s love and his life. One false move on her part would ruin everything. Not to mention, she didn’t know if it was possible to have sex with a man the way she had before she was changed. She thought so, but her orgasms had consisted mainly of the association with the taking of blood.
“John,” she whispered. “I…don’t know if I can do this,” she said. “Not yet.”
“What?” he asked. His voice held a combination of surprise and regret. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s been so long,” she said, “a bad experience a long time ago.”
Reese nestled close to her. He wrapped his arms around her and just held her tightly.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it yet,” she said. “It was devastating to me. I was very young when it happened,” she said. “Yes…very young.
“You’re the one with the secrets? Now who’s being complicated?” he asked.
She giggled lightly. “Yes, it’s my turn now.” Then in a serious tone she added, “I need for you to understand John. It’s very important to me that you do. It’s been a very strange day for me, a day of revelations.”
“Revelations? What? Revelations in terms of religion or something?”
“No, nothing like that,” she said although the vision she had of Alexander and what she experienced could potentially be classified as such.
“I don’t understand,” he said as he gently ran his fingers through her long hair. “Is it me? Something I said—or did?”
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. She tightened her grip on him to offer physical assurance with her answer. “This revelation is totally in my own ballpark. I just don’t want the wrong thing to happen and my mind bringing up my past to ruin it. Does that make any sense?”
“Sure,” he said.
She could sense his disappointment of not making love tonight.
“John, I have much to explain to you, but like you, I’m worried that I might scare you off.”
“Now, I’m getting nervous,” he said.
“Don’t. Please don’t feel like I’m a…I don’t know, just leading you on here,” she said. “I just need some time. I wanted it to happen right now, but I don’t want to risk it going the wrong way and ruining what we have.”
“So we have something here?” he said and then quickly added. “That wasn’t meant to come out as a question,” he countered. “I believe we do,” he said as he ran his hand along the side of her soft cheek and then traced the outline of her lips with his fingers.
“I understand,” she said as she kissed him. “I know how you’re such a doubting John,” she said and laughed lightly.
“Do you?” he asked. “Or are you just saying that?” he asked playfully.
“I mean what I say, John Reese,” she said. “I’m more concerned if you really understand without me explaining about my past… at least not yet anyway.”
“I understand, believe me. I know about emotional scars and what they can do to you. That’s what…” he hesitated, “That’s what my dream is about.”
“So, can we just slow down?” she asked. “So I can put things into perspective?”
“Of course we can,” he agreed. “But…”
“But what?” she asked.
“This doesn’t get you off the hook for dinner and what information you said I wanted to hear.”
She smiled. “As I said, I do what I say and say what I mean. I’ll go warm up dinner while you get showered and dressed.”
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-T
HREE
After Reese showered, he walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the smell of Italian spices and tomato sauce.
“Yum,” he said, “smells good.”
“I must warn you, John Reese,” she began, “when it comes to cooking, or even just warming up food, I lack any form of knowledge.”
“So you’re saying what? You’re not the domesticated type, woman? Don’t want to claim the kitchen as your safe haven of domestic bliss?”
“Er…yes, exactly,” she agreed.
“Sounds to me like you’re trying to set a precedent so I won’t get my hopes up in the future—is that your evil plan?”
“May be,” she said, “just may be.”
He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He was surprised that she felt rather cool to the touch now. Earlier she had felt…well he thought she had felt warm but he wasn’t sure. Of course she had.
“You’re cold,” he said.
“Low body temperature. It’s a family trait,” she said. “I don’t sweat much either.”
“Bet I can get you…” he began but stopped feeling embarrassed about what he was going to say after their earlier conversation in the bedroom.
“Say it,” she said, “or I’ll beat you with this wooden spoon,” she said as she raised the spoon she had been using to stir the sauce. “I don’t want you to be afraid or worried that something you say will bother me. If it does, I’ll tell you, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed. “I was just going to say that I bet I can get you warmed up and sweating as well.”
“Hmmm, well, we’ll have to just see about that, now won’t we.” She turned and hugged him tightly. “How long do you have tonight before you have to go into work?”
“I probably need to be there by about 0600, pardon me,” he corrected himself, “You civilians would say six o’clock.”
“Well, you better sit down and eat then.”
“Yes maaaammmm….” he said drawing out the syllables in an exaggerated southern drawl.
“Cute,” she said.
Reese turned toward his small kitchen table and saw that there was only one place setting.
“Not eating?”
“I already did. I ate earlier, plus, I’ve been nibbling on yours as well. I’ll have a glass of wine while you eat.”
Reese sat down at table and Christina served him his food. He didn’t think he was that hungry, but as he began to eat, he felt his appetite take over him. He consumed everything she placed in front of him.
“John, what was your dream about?” she asked.
He stopped chewing and looked at her for a few seconds. She didn’t say anything as he wondered what he would, or could, tell her. He finished chewing his food then picked up his glass of water and drank some. He placed the glass back down on the table.
“It’s about fear,” he said simply. “A year or so ago I was involved in a particular operation. I saw some things that made me question…I don’t know, life itself maybe. But in particular, my life in terms of what I really want. It’s hard to explain.”
“Can you tell me about what you did that caused this?” she asked.
Reese looked at her and fought back what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell her everything about the Team of Darkness and the current op, but he couldn’t. It was a selfish endeavor that would only get her in trouble if it ever leaked out that she knew anything about it.
“I wish I could—but I can’t,” he said.
“It has something to do with your work, doesn’t it? But which work?” she asked.
“Huh?” he asked.
“Is it your military work or is it your myths and legend work? Or is it both?”
Reese didn’t say anything.
She continued, “I read your book, remember? Of course I’m fascinated with certain aspects to begin with, you know that from class and what I said about my family being from the Balkans. However, you devoted a lot of time to one particular section; the one that centers upon vampires. You can see it in every word and line of text that you poured your heart into it. You brought up so many new points and hypothesis that it overwhelms everything else in the book.”
She knows, he thought. “Was it that transparent?” he asked.
“To me it was. The vampire section and the new implications you brought out were remarkable.” She paused. “Something must have happened to have you bring all these new points out. What was it, John? What did you find?”
“Christina, listen to me,” he said still astounded about her depth of perception in his words and thoughts. “You’ll have to just take my word that what I wrote about was all substantiated and I barely scratched the surface. But, I can’t talk about that. It’s not that I don’t want to, but I can’t. You and I could get in a lot of trouble if anyone ever found out. It’s for your own safety as well as mine.”
“Let me guess,” she began, “if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me, right?”
Reese felt his stomach drop.
“Christina, don’t even joke about that!” he said and felt himself tremble with the thought of Samantha and Mr. Smith from the agency. He knew what they would do if he arbitrarily told someone else what he knew.
“John,” she began, “I was only joking. Are you okay? You’re pale as a ghost.”
Reese forced himself to calm down.
“I’m okay,” he said as he rose from the table and took his dishes to the sink. He scraped them off and rinsed them.
“John, it’s all tied together isn’t it? The dreams. What happened to you? The section of the book on vampires; you actually found some vampires didn’t you?”
He turned toward her and looked at her. His expression became stern and looked as if it said that he would answer this one question and no more.
“Yes,” he said and turned away from her.
***
His words had confirmed what she had suspected. The image she had seen in his dream was probably one of the other vampires. But where were they? What were they doing? She had to know. She felt as if she had discovered a long lost relative, one whom she thought was dead but was actually alive.
Her feelings about actually meeting other vampires were mixed. There was an excitement about it, yet a feeling of foreboding from the expectations she had. Did she really have expectations? She wasn’t sure, yet she felt that she had to know all about them. And how would this effect the relationship that she and John had embarked upon?
When she’d killed General Stone, he had insinuated that there was bad blood between himself and the vampires as well as John. And the key question was how the vampires had been used: Were they assassins like her?
She needed answers but she would not push or influence John in any way to get them. There could be no taking if there was to be something between them—and there was, she thought. There was something between them. She would learn the information some other way.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-F
OUR
Reese fell silent and he busied himself by fixing the coffee maker. He was in the midst of feelings and emotions that twisted inside of him like two ends of a rope forming a knot that made him ache. In a way, he felt relieved by telling someone about the existence of vampires, but wondered if his foolish admission had placed her at risk.
He turned to face Christina. “You must never acknowledge what I just told you. If you do, your life may be at risk.”
“I can take care of myself,” she began, the tone of her voice reflecting no fear. “It’s okay, John.”
“Listen to me,” Reese began, “It’s not okay. I don’t even feel safe talking about this out loud. Even within my own home. This is very serious stuff I’m into. The people involved are very, very dangerous.”
“I understand, John,” she said and then added, “Probably more then you can imagine. I have had some, how would you say, odd experiences working for the government. But I’m still fascinated about the specifics of what you discovered.”
“No.” he said firmly. “No more.”
“Alright, John,” she said. She rose from the table and went to where he stood at the kitchen counter. Neither one said anything. The gurgling of the coffee pot became the only sound in the room as they stood in silence.
“Thanks for sharing,” she said as she placed her hand on his cheek. “I know…I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
“It wasn’t,” he said. “And it’s damn dangerous in more ways than one.” He grasped her hands in his and squeezed them tightly. “Dangerous,” he repeated. “Just telling you what I’ve told you puts you in harm’s way. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s a natural reaction, whether human or animal,” she said. “Exposing our undersides, our vulnerable area, to attack leaves us wide open. I’m the same way. I’ve shut my inner thoughts away in my head for…a very long time. I didn’t realize how painful and destructive that was.”
“How so?” he asked.
“My past,” she paused, surprised that she had so willingly set herself to talk about it.
“Yes?” he asked. “What about it?”
“When I was very young, I fell in love with a man in the village where I lived. He was many years older than me, yet I was captivated by him. The things he did to me, the way he talked to me, he made me feel so wonderful. He was married but he told me he didn’t love his wife and that he was going to leave the village and take me with him. I’ll save you all the sordid details, but suffice it to say that I believed him. When he was caught with me, I was accused of being a seductress and ostracized from my village. Everything I believed in was snatched away from me. My home, my parents, my friends were all turned against me. I became a very angry person. A very angry person and all I sought was revenge.”