The Nememiah Chronicles Collection

Chapter 13

I don"t know how long I fought against the ocean, it seemed like an eternity, and I was so very tired. There was no land to be seen, water surrounded me as far as the eye could see and choppy waves beat against my body endlessly, I could barely catch my breath between them. The temptation to sink, to stop fighting against the forces and plunge to the depths was overwhelming. I could give up, allow the waves to take me, and never have to think or feel again.

Two things stopped me. Mom appeared, as she had so often in the past, begging me to continue. Beseeching me to live, to move on, and find happiness again. She pleaded with me to carry on. I argued with her, tried repeatedly to tell her I didn"t want to be alone any longer. She smiled and replied that I didn"t need to be on my own now. She told me to be happy; there would be time for us to be together again, once I"d lived my life – but not to give in now. She didn"t want me to give up on my life, because of what had happened to her and my siblings. She held Henry in her arms and my sisters stood beside her, holding hands. All of them were whole and perfect, floating just about the swirling currents that entrapped me.

I reached for them, pleading that they take me with them. Mom shook her head.

She and my sisters glanced to their left, as if they"d heard someone coming and I saw the second thing that would stop me. It was Lucas, but he was different. Like a movie incarnation of a vampire, he wore a black silk cape and when he smiled, I felt safe and comforted. His eyes were filled with kindness as he held his hands out to help me. I reached towards him, but hesitated, suddenly uncertain. He beckoned to me again, but when he smiled this time, his fangs glimmered in the darkness. I screamed, as he grew larger and took on a terrifying appearance, his face morphing and changing into something inhuman and his fangs plunged into my throat, tearing into my tender skin as he growled inhumanely—

“Lucas!” I sat bolt upright, eyes wide with terror and immediately regretted the act as fiery pain throbbed incessantly through my chest.

Lucas“Charlotte! Oh, thank the Lord. You"re awake! We"ve been frantic,” Rowena cried. She clutched me to her chest, wrapping her arms around me and rubbing my back.

“What happened?” My throat was dry and scratchy, my tongue thick against the roof of my mouth.

Rowena released her grip and picked up a glass of water from the bedside table, holding it while I sucked gratefully at the straw. “You"ve been unconscious for five days. Jerome was alarmed; he couldn"t snap you out of it. He said you were catatonic, he thinks it was your mind"s way of coping with what you"d been through.” She settled me back against the pillows, fussing with them before covering me carefully with the blankets.

Doctor Harding appeared in the doorway, closely followed by Marianne who greeted me with a delighted hug before Striker walked in. “You gave us a scare, Charlotte,” he announced nonchalantly.

Ripley came in, and behind him, Acenith, the one who"d helped calm me. She and Ripley stood to one side, allowing Doctor Harding to check me over, but Acenith smiled warmly. She was slender, with small breasts and slim hips, and wore a pale blue t-shirt and blue jeans. Her hair was honey golden, lying against her back and reached her waist. “Hello, Charlotte. We weren"t introduced properly before. I"m Acenith De Bourgain. I"ve heard a lot about you.”

“And none of it was good,” Striker grunted.

Marianne swatted Striker, the sound reverberating like a small thunder strike. “Striker, will you ever learn to think before you speak?”

“What?” Striker protested. “Lottie knows I"m joking.”

I wasn"t certain I did, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Ripley was watching me and I recalled Lucas saying he could read minds. It was unsettling to think he might be doing just that, and I glanced away, wary of the thought. Although, in all honesty, my history was out in the open. There was nothing left to hide. Well, maybe there were a couple of things. “Where"s Lucas?” I asked, suddenly aware of his absence.

“Hunting with Ben. We convinced him to go further afield when you remained unconscious for so long. They"ve been away since yesterday,” Striker explained.

Doctor Harding was checking an IV drip, which hung from a pole beside the bed, the line running from a bag and into a hypodermic needle inserted into the back of my hand. “I needed to keep your fluid intake up, it"s a saline solution to keep you hydrated,” he murmured softly.

“The only way to persuade Lucas to go, was to assure him we would take turns sitting with you,” Marianne added. She was dressed more demurely than I"d seen before, wearing pale grey woolen trousers and a pink cashmere twinset, which matched the color in her hair perfectly.

“Which we have done,” Ripley added. “By the way, Miss Duncan, you snore quite dreadfully.” He winked at me, softening the comment.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Rowena. It seemed Ripley had put his concerns about me to one side for now. “Is Lucas okay?”

“Struggling a little,” Rowena admitted.

“William has gone to find them,” Marianne added helpfully.

“William?” I questioned vacantly. I didn"t remember a William.

“Gwynn"s husband,” Marianne prompted, reminding me that Lucas had mentioned him. It seemed he and Gwynn were the only two I hadn"t met, besides the other vampire who was overseas.

Doctor Harding turned towards the group that had congregated. “You"ve seen for yourselves that she"s awake. Could I ask you to leave the room now, so I can examine my patient?”

He waited for them to leave and turned back to me. “I"d like to look at those ribs, if I may. You caused some damage when you got so distressed and your recovery has been delayed by a week or so. It"s only fair to tell you that Lucas has told me the entire story. I insisted when I arrived, and saw the state you were in.” He probed my ribs gently, satisfying himself that all was well before he pulled the covers back up.

“What happened?” I questioned when he"d finished his examination and seemed satisfied.

Doctor Harding sighed, running his fingers through his unruly grey hair. “I"m not a qualified psychiatrist, so I can"t be quoted on my observations. You weren"t truly unconscious and yet, you weren"t awake. I"m assuming the intense stress caused your brain to shut down, until it felt prepared to deal with the information you"d recalled. I"ve heard of people reacting in that way, but to see it happen myself was disturbing. I"m very pleased you"re awake now – another twenty four hours and I was going to have no choice, but to transfer you to hospital.”

“I imagine that would have been difficult to explain,” I suggested dryly.

Doctor Harding smirked. “We were struggling to come up with a suitable explanation, that"s certainly true.” He paused, choosing his words carefully before he spoke again. “You should also know, Ripley and Striker checked into your story, Charlotte, to determine the full details. I seemed to remember hearing of the death of your mother and siblings in the news, they confirmed it through newspaper reports.” He watched me cautiously, waiting for a response.

“I guess that isn"t surprising, they probably needed to confirm I was telling the truth.”

“Sadly, you were. The newspapers confirmed the story, how you were arrested and charged with the murder of your stepfather, after he murdered your family.” He squeezed my shoulder gently and offered me a compassionate smile. “You were very fortunate at the trial, it seems almost as many wanted you to be incarcerated, as did those who insisted you should be freed.”

“One of the reasons I started moving around so much, to escape the gossip and people"s opinions,” I admitted. “For every person who believed in me, there was another who thought I"d gotten away with murder.”

“Difficult to cope with, no doubt,” Dr. Harding suggested.

“Particularly as I was convinced of my own guilt,” I agreed quietly. “I really thought I should be sent to prison. I failed Mom, my family. I deserved to spend the rest of my life in prison for what I did to them.”

“I don"t believe that, Charlotte, not for one minute.” Rowena appeared unexpectedly and sat on the edge of the bed, her expression fierce. “You didn"t kill your family, Peter Hurst did. You didn"t destroy your mother"s self-esteem. He did. All you are truly guilty of is the crime of loving your mother enough, to want something better for her. Ridding the world of scum like Peter Hurst is not a crime in my books.”

I smile halfheartedly, warmed by her obvious concern and her determination to make me see things in a different light. In many ways, Rowena was right. I"d done everything in my power to try to convince Mom to leave, but in the end she had so lacked in belief in herself, she was rendered immobile by her own fears. In hindsight, I"d done everything I could do, to help Mom. It just hadn"t been enough to save her or my siblings.

“I"m afraid I must make one more confession, Charlotte, to add to what Jerome has already told you. I have approached the local police chief, and confirmed you are staying with us for the moment. You are on parole; it seemed prudent to confirm your residential address with him, to ensure he wasn"t likely to visit and arrest you for breaking your parole conditions.” Rowena had the good grace to appear uncomfortable as she made this confession.

“Sheriff Davis?” I"d met Clinton Davis when I first arrived in Puckhaber Falls, as was required by my probation. He was a laid-back man in his mid-forties and he"d treated me kindly and with great respect. We"d seen each other a few times since my first official visit to the Sheriff"s office and he"d always been very pleasant. He"d made it patently clear with a few obtuse sentences, that he believed I had a right to be free and had been supportive of my staying in Puckhaber. I"d even shared coffee with him a couple of times in Hank"s store. “Clint"s a nice guy.”

Dr. Harding grinned, obviously amused. “Indeed, he is, a very pleasant man. He seemed genuinely pleased you were staying here with Lucas and sends his best wishes.”

“He knows what happened to me?” I questioned doubtfully.

“No, not at all. But with a little tweak of his mind, he believes you had a skiing accident over the Christmas break, that you are dating Lucas, and naturally, Lucas and his friends wanted to look after you whilst you recover from your broken arm and ankle,” Rowena explained, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I couldn"t stop myself from grinning back at her, an open, honest smile that I would never have believed I was capable of after the past two years. “A little tweak?” I queried mildly.

Rowena chuckled. “Besides being able to convince people our eyes are exceedingly normal, we can tell them something and place a suggestion in their mind that they have no need to question what they"ve been told. Whilst I"ve never had to use it on Sheriff Davis before, I found he was extremely receptive.”

The mention of Lucas reminded me of the last time I"d seen him – when he"d been deeply upset over what I"d revealed. “Are you sure Lucas is alright?”

Dr. Harding sighed, leaning heavily on his good leg. “I believe so, though certainly he"s finding the situation difficult and blames himself for your breakdown. I"ve explained it was healthy for you to vocalize what you were feeling. Holding all those memories in was putting enormous strain on you, Charlotte.”

“A problem shared is a problem halved,” I agreed quietly. It was an analogy used by my Grandmother regularly, and I could hear her calm voice in my mind, as soothing and loving as I remembered. It reminded me of oatmeal cookies and warm milk, listening to stories in bed as Gran lulled me to sleep when I stayed with her. She"d died about six years ago, and I missed her every day.

Doctor Harding nodded. “Exactly. Given what you"ve been through, I"m surprised you"ve survived for as long as you have. Holding it all inside wasn"t healthy.”

“I had no-one to share with.”

“You"ve proven yourself to be a strong young woman,” Doctor Harding remarked with a note of satisfaction in his voice. “You"re recovering well. Your blood pressure is back to normal, after being elevated for the past few days.” He sat on the chair beside my bed, studying my face astutely. “Did anyone suggest you seek help after your family died? There are a number of extremely good psychologists and therapists who may have helped you through the grieving process.”

I frowned, shaking my head firmly. “They offered, but I didn"t want any help. When it happened, I was so angry, so full of rage. It took over my every waking moment; all I could think about was vengeance. Afterwards, I—” I stopped, struggling to vocalize the fact that I had murdered someone in cold blood. “When he was dead, the anger slipped away and was replaced with grief. My whole world was desolate, a wasteland with nothing and no one in it. I didn"t want to think about Mom, or my siblings. I didn"t want to think about anything, except dying. I"m not sure anyone could have helped me through that.”

Rowena watched me for a few seconds, her expression serene as she searched my eyes. “How do you feel now?”

I examined the memories, which had been carefully shut away for so long. It had become a habit to avoid them – I had an imaginary box where the most horrendous of my thoughts were kept. Anything I couldn"t – or wouldn"t – think about was placed in the box and locked away. Imagining now that the box was open, memories inundated my mind. It was surprising to discover they didn"t feel so intensely painful now. Picking through them, examining each one, didn"t make me feel I would collapse in agony. It still hurt, but somehow it was better. “I feel calmer than I have in a very long time.”

Doctor Harding nodded thoughtfully and smiled, his eyes lit with satisfaction. “That"s good to hear. You"ve been through an enormous ordeal, Charlotte and there will be effects for considerable time to come. Whilst you"ve faced your demons and handled them better than I would ever have expected, there will still be highs and lows, days when you"ll feel unhappy and down in the dumps. I"d like to prescribe anti-depressants for you, after I"ve consulted with an associate of mine who specializes in the field. Would you consider taking them?”

I nodded. “If you think they"ll help.”

He smiled approvingly. “Good girl. I would like you to speak with both Rowena and Marianne about your feelings. You seem to be developing a good rapport with both of them and they want to help as much as they possibly can. Use them as a sounding board for your emotional health; allow them to offer you friendship and a willing ear.”

“Whenever you want to talk, Charlotte, I"ll be more than happy to listen,” Rowena urged.

The Doctor stood up and smoothed down the front of his shirt. “I"m sure Lucas will be relieved to hear you"re feeling a little better. He"s been beside himself with worry about you in the past few days.”

“I"m sorry he"s been worrying.”

“Don"t be.” Rowena"s tone was reassuring. “He cares about you, Charlotte. It was natural for him to be worried.”

It was delightful to hear Rowena suggest Lucas cared about me – although I suspected as much, hearing someone else say it was a validation that I wasn"t just deluding myself.

“I"ll leave you girls to it,” Dr. Harding announced. “I"ll be back to see you in the morning, Charlotte.” Rowena walked him to the doorway and they stood for a few minutes in deep discussion before she made her way back to the side of the bed, dropping gracefully onto the chair.

“Can I ask you something?”

Rowena smiled, the silver in her hazel eyes sparkling. “Of course, I"ll answer what I can.”

“How difficult is it for Lucas to be near me? He says he"s coping, but is it as difficult as I imagine?”

Rowena ran her fingers through her hair, considering my question for a few minutes. “I can"t answer specifically for Lucas; I can only give you my perspective. All vampires thirst for human blood, Charlotte. Although I have learned to survive on animal blood, I can still smell human blood, but I make a conscious choice not to act on the scent. It"s become second nature for me to do so.”

smell“You can smell my blood?” The thought had never occurred to me. I"d assumed from what Lucas had said, the sound of my blood created the temptation.

She smiled ruefully, clasping her hands together. “We can all smell your blood. Constantly. For myself, it isn"t a huge issue; control came through many years of abstinence and taking care to ensure I feed regularly to keep the desire to a minimum.” She leaned forward, her countenance solemn. “For some of the others, it"s a temptation.” She obviously caught the shocked expression that must have appeared in my eyes and hurriedly continued. “It"s nothing to worry about, if we had any doubts at all, we would never have agreed when Lucas requested you stay here. It would be a different matter if your blood were spilled, because obviously the scent is heightened. But I don"t believe any one of us would deliberately hurt you.”

“But Lucas finds it more difficult.”

Rowena inhaled heavily, considering her answer. “This is uncharted territory, Charlotte. It is impossible to know exactly how difficult this is for Lucas.”

“Uncharted?” I wasn"t sure what she meant, why she"d chosen that description.

“Humans have only ever held a couple of values for vampires.” Her gaze was disconcerting, the way she was watching me suggested she was waiting for me to discover the implications for myself.

It wasn"t hard to guess the first one and I felt goose bumps rising against my skin. “Food.”

“Humans are sustenance to vampires. Nothing more, nothing less. For the majority of vampires, humans are treated as nothing more than blood on the hoof,” Rowena explained matter-of-factly. “There are a number of reasons for it being that way, Charlotte. Not least of which, is because human blood is the perfect sustenance for us. What the others and myself are doing, while it is certainly a way to sustain our existence, it is not the norm for our kind. Most vampires feed from and kill humans without a second thought. But there are other reasons for my using the word "uncharted" in regards to what is happening between you and Lucas.”

Her gaze shifted towards the window and she was silent for a long time, contemplating the water running along the riverbed below us. When she spoke again, her eyes remained on the window. “The second value is by far the more troubling. To my knowledge, no vampire has attempted a relationship with a human.”

“Ever?” The idea came as a shock. Surely, some vampire in the past had developed a romantic relationship with a human being. Were there that many vampires in the world, for them to participate only in vampire relationships?

As if she could read my thoughts, Rowena continued. “A relationship with a human has almost – and I hate to say it – insurmountable obstacles against it. Our strength is one. All of us must remain constantly vigilant to the fact that we are capable of crushing a human. With you, we must all be on alert and remember that what to us would be a gentle pat on the shoulder, would be enough to kill you, at the very least, to break a bone. When you consider that in the perspective of a s****l relationship between a man and a woman, you can understand that the passions involved create a recipe for disaster. s*x involves any number of emotions and passions, all of which can too easily cause people to forget themselves, not concentrate on everything that is happening around them. Passion could lead to deadly consequences in the case of a vampire and a human.”

I nodded, remembering the sound I"d heard when Marianne slapped Striker"s arm earlier and the fight between Lucas and Ambrose out in the woods. The noise of their bodies colliding with one another had been incredible.

“So you"re saying it"s impossible?”

“No, not impossible. I can"t suggest a situation is impossible, if it has never been tried before – there are no parameters for knowing if it could succeed or not. What I"m saying is that it will be difficult.” Rowena sighed heavily, her gaze focused on my face. “Charlotte, vampires have had s****l intercourse with humans countless times over the centuries, but that"s all it has ever been. s*x, without emotion or commitment.”

I blushed furiously, alarmed by the sudden turn of our discussion. I had never been involved with a man, had never had s*x with anyone. To be talking about it now, with a relative stranger, was awkward at best, discomforting at worst.

Rowena continued quietly, wisely deciding against mentioning my increasing discomfort. “s*x and feeding are closely intertwined for vampires. The physical orgasm is usually entangled with feeding and… death, for the human involved. I know Lucas tried at one stage to have s*x with human women without being overcome by the urge to kill – when he was trying to overcome the need to drain our victims – but it wasn"t successful.”

“He told me,” I responded in a low voice, stricken by the idea that any relationship with Lucas couldn"t progress to anything more meaningful. “It"s always that way?”

“It"s had to be, Charlotte, for many reasons. There are a number of issues, but many of them are things you and Lucas should discuss with one another.” She patted my leg reassuringly and straightened up, seemingly determined to end the conversation. “And many of them are things that can wait until you are better, and you and Lucas see where this attraction between you may be headed.” She glanced up towards the window. “William has found Ben and Lucas and they are on their way home.” She drew herself onto her feet, her movements graceful and unhurried. “Try not to worry too much, Charlotte. All I can tell you is that Lucas will control this; he has incredible strength of will. He cares for you deeply and I"m certain you will both find a way of overcoming the problems involved.”

She left the room and I lay back against the pillows. Instead of concentrating on the disturbing conversation I"d had with Rowena, I tried to reflect on how I felt; now I"d opened up about my family. For the first time in nearly two years, I wasn"t so convinced I wanted to die. I could see Mom again, examine her without the desire to shut her away and avoid the hurt. It was joyful to visualize her and see her in my mind, her beautiful green eyes so similar to my own. She wanted me to live, to be happy and move on from the horrors of the past and face the future.

A strange sensation blossomed in my chest and I realized it wasn"t the complete desolation, which had been part of my life for two years. I felt… peaceful. I could see my brother and my sisters, hear the girls" voices clamoring for attention and felt whole again. No, not whole – that was the wrong word. I lifted my hand to my chest, feeling the steady thump of my heart and knew that although I would not be the same person I once was there was a chance for me to go on. My heart was no longer wasted with guilt and recriminations; instead, it was filled with love and memories of my family. And affection for my new friends. Rowena, Ben, and Marianne – they"d embraced me with open arms and I would never forget their generosity, their willingness to accept me. Acenith, Striker, and Ripley – they seemed okay with me too. Their secret would remain safe with me.

No, not whole – that was the wrong word.And Lucas. He was in my heart and I loved him. I loved many things about him and couldn"t imagine a future without him being a part of it. Despite knowing him for such a short period, it didn"t seem wrong to feel such a powerful attachment. And yet - could it possibly work? He was vampire – I was a human. Was it impossible? No. Not impossible – as Rowena had said – nothing was impossible if it had never been attempted before. Just… difficult.

≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈

Lucas entered the room in an indistinguishable blur, no longer having to hide his abilities, he ran to the bedside, only coming sharply into focus when he stopped beside me.

He gazed at me for a long time, his eyes raking my face, his concern clear in his expression. I reached up to touch him and he closed his eyes, letting me run my fingers over his cheek and down to his jaw before he covered my hand with his. “Charlotte. I am so sorry—”

I placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. “There"s nothing to be sorry about,” I whispered. “I know now that I couldn"t move forward, without acknowledging the past. You"ve helped me to do that. You"ve kept no secrets from me; it seems only fair for you to know my past.”

He nodded thoughtfully, kissing my fingers before he curled them into his cool grasp. “No secrets,” he repeated thoughtfully. He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing the scars on my wrist. “Are you really okay?”

“I think so. I feel…” I probed my vocabulary for the right word, something that would explain the calmness of my thoughts, “relieved.” It wasn"t the perfect word, but it would do. “I certainly don"t think life will be uncomplicated now, but it will be more bearable. By holding it all in, and refusing to acknowledge it, I guess I"ve allowed the hurt and pain to grow until it consumed me. Now there"s a chance I can face the future, without constantly wanting to end my life.” I flushed, embarrassed to admit my suicidal tendencies. It wasn"t something I was proud to reveal.

“I"m glad. I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” He smiled tenderly, the silver streaks flaring in his eyes.

“What for?”

“For trusting me enough to tell me what happened. I understand how difficult it must have been for you.”

“It wasn"t easy,” I admitted. “I"d never thought it would be possible to tell anyone, but somehow, I needed to tell you. Needed to lay everything on the line. You"d been candid with me and I needed to be truthful with you.” Plucking at the sheet with my fingers, I glanced furtively at Lucas from beneath my eyelashes. “Do they all know?”

Lucas nodded. “They were deeply concerned about what was happening. Jerome especially, needed to know what brought about your breakdown. It seemed impossible not to bring them all into the loop, and of course, they could all hear something was wrong. I hope you will forgive me for betraying your trust.”

“You didn"t betray my trust, you"re right. It"s only fair they have an explanation for my behavior, after they"ve agreed to have me stay here.” I managed a faint smile. “I hope they don"t think any worse of me, knowing I murdered my step-father.”

“That wasn"t murder. He got no worse than he deserved,” Lucas responded curtly, his tone cold. “Probably far better than he deserved.”

We gazed at one another for a long time, Lucas still gripping my hand gently. He leaned over, bringing his face closer to mine, his scent making my head spin. He edged closer until our lips touched – the coldness of his at odds with the warmth of my own. The effect of his kiss was electrifying. I wanted to touch him, hold him, have him kiss me, and more. Much more. I wrestled my fingers from his grip, running them through his thick hair and pulling him closer. Lucas groaned softly in his chest, brushing his tongue over my lips and when I moaned, he swept his way into my mouth, his tongue seeking my own and suckling against it gently. I dropped my hands from his hair, gripping his neck and holding him tightly against me.

He captured my hand in his and gently unclasped my fingers, moving away. “I have to be careful with you,” he reminded me huskily. “I have to keep my desires in control.”

The intense yearning was obvious in his eyes and it was apparent how difficult pulling back was for him, how hard he found it to release me. Lying back against the pillows, I could feel my heart racing and my n*****s throbbed against the silky material covering them, leaving me wanting so much more.

Lucas slumped into the chair next to the bed, still holding my hand. He grinned and I returned his smile. We were both keenly aware of how big an achievement it had been for him to release me, how much self-control he"d had to administer, to keep his natural instincts in check.

To lighten the mood a little, I decided to distract him. “So, I have some more questions,” I began.

“What would you like to know?”

“Why do you smell so good?”

“It"s another aspect of being vampire; my scent is designed to entice my victims, to attract them.”

“You don"t always smell the same to me.”

Lucas smiled. “Pheromones create the scent, something that will most appeal to the human I"m with at the time, dependent on what will lull them into relaxing.”

“How do you know what will have the right effect?”

“Years of instinct.”

“It certainly works,” I pointed out.

“It"s pleasant to know that at least one of my evil powers works on you,” Lucas responded dryly.

“I"ve seen some vampire movies in my time,” I continued, stealing a look at him to gauge his reaction. He remained impassive, although one dark eyebrow rose in question. “How come you don"t wear the tuxedo and the black silk cape?”

To my delight, it had exactly the effect I"d hoped it would. He burst into laughter, throwing his head back and chuckling. “It"s a myth. Do I look like George Hamilton to you? It would be extremely ineffective when we are trying to be incognito in the community, don"t you think?”

His reaction encouraged me. “What happens to your fangs when you aren"t using them?” Whenever he smiled, his teeth looked perfectly normal, there wasn"t the slightest hint that they were in any way different to my own.

“Retractable. Again, it would be exceedingly difficult to remain incognito, if our fangs were perpetually on display for all to see.”

“Do you need to breathe?”

“Not if I don"t want to. We go through the motions, so we appear human.”

“Really?”

He smiled again. “Really.”

“What about things which are supposed to repel vampires? Garlic?” He shook his head. “Crosses?”

Another firm shake of his head followed, and he grinned at me, obviously amused by my naïve line of questioning. “All myths,” he announced firmly.

“Silver?”

“Why the sudden interest? Are you planning on killing me?” He questioned with an easy smile. “Another myth. Silver has no effect on us. In fact, Rowena prefers silver jewelry over gold, and wears it often.” He squeezed my fingers. “And before you ask, wooden stakes are an urban legend as well.”

“They"re all legends? How did that come about?”

Lucas shrugged. “We needed ways to protect ourselves from humans. I have always assumed these myths were begun by vampires, thousands of years ago, a way to shield ourselves.”

My curiosity was piqued and the next question I asked was no longer in jest. “What can kill you?”

canLucas evidently understood the questioning had grown serious and paused to consider his answer. “Almost nothing.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Nothing?”

“We are virtually indestructible. The only way to kill a vampire is to decapitate him, then destroy the head and body with fire. Probably a good thing, given we"re immortal.”

Ignoring the reminder of his killing Ambrose, I focused instead on the idea of immortality. This thought hadn"t occurred to me before and I turned the idea around in my head, examining it from all sides. Recalling the conversation I"d had with Rowena, she"d told me she was born in 1852. I looked at Lucas. “How old are you – really?”

His expression didn"t alter, but the grip against my fingers tightened imperceptibly, as if he feared my reaction. “I was born in 1842, ten years before Rowena.”

The lungful of air I"d been holding exhaled with a quiet whoosh, tugging sharply at my ribcage. “1842,” I repeated vacantly.

“Yes.”

A dozen thoughts crossed my mind, one after the other, as I digested this answer. His gaze never left mine while he waited for a reaction.

“Okay.” It was all I could manage, even though it didn"t even begin to cover the thoughts racing through my mind.

He raised his eyebrows at my lukewarm reaction, his expression unfathomable. “I was born in Chicago in 1842, to Irish immigrants named Patrick and Mary Tine. I had four brothers and five sisters. We lived in the slums of Chicago, and when I was twenty-four, my younger sister Margaret contracted cholera. There was a mini epidemic in the United States in 1866, and one by one, my family contracted the disease. We had no idea we had gotten the disease by drinking contaminated water from the water pump we relied on – those sorts of things weren"t understood at the time.” He paused briefly, the memory evidently troubling him. “It was a terrible disease, we suffered dismally from vomiting, and diarrhea and you got so dehydrated, all you wanted to do was drink; the thirst was terrible. Of course, we drank gallons of the water, which was contaminating us in the first place. My family died, every single one of them, until only I was left. I was alone and so very ill, there was no real treatment at the time and many people were sick. Dozens died across Chicago, every day.”

“What happened?” I asked quietly.

“I knew I was going to die. I waited for it, wished for it – but it didn"t happen. After a few days, I crawled from the slum and out into the street below, desperate to find help, but I collapsed in the alley. That"s where Florien found me.”

I grasped what he was saying. “Florien? He was a vampire?”

Lucas nodded and looked into my eyes, his expression soft. “He gave me a choice. He told me what he was and that he could attempt to save me, but only if he bit me. He couldn"t guarantee he would be successful, warned me there was an extremely high chance he would lose control and drain me. I was weak, so incredibly desperate and I didn"t want to die. I wanted to live. So I agreed, despite how little chance there was of survival.”

I reached out to touch his face, wanting him to know I understood his decision. He captured my hand, kissing my fingers again. “Does it hurt?”

“The bite was excruciating, even when the paralytic agent we employ began to work, I could still feel the pain.” He shuddered at the memory. “Then there was panic, as I felt my life slipping away. After that…” he shrugged a little, “there was nothing, until I woke beneath the ground and clawed my way out.”

I lapsed into silence, considering what he"d told me, not wanting to hear what happened next. Trying to imagine what it had been like for him, to be so alone and choose this life, over dying. Wondering what it was like to live for so long.

“What are you thinking, Charlotte?” Lucas demanded, keeping his voice low.

I shook my head a little. “I don"t know, I guess I"m trying to get my head around the fact you"re over one hundred and sixty years old.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No!” The response came swiftly. “I don"t care how old you are, it"s only a number. It"s so hard to comprehend though, when you look the way you do.”

He ran his fingers through my hair; pulling at one dark curl and watching it spring back into shape. “My poor Charlotte. You"ve had a lot to comprehend in recent weeks.”

“So you"ll never get older?”

“I"ve been exactly like this, since 1866,” he admitted. “I"ll never get any older. At least, not in physical appearance.”

“What do you do? How do you fill in all that time?”

Lucas smiled warmly. “It hasn"t been difficult. There"s a whole world out there, Charlotte. I"ve visited many countries, learned new languages. I"ve served in wars, read books, learned to play musical instruments, and studied. I"ve learned about philosophy, history, politics, law, genetics, and medicine.”

“Do you work in Billings?”

He shook his head. “No, I don"t work in Billings. It"s a ruse, part of our multifaceted plan to keep people away. My main area of interest is law; I"ve worked as an attorney for many years in the past. Right now, I"m taking a sabbatical. I may go back to college again, when we move next.”

“Again?” I repeated faintly. This sounded like a fantasy; nothing he was telling me seemed as if it could possibly be real. It felt as if I"d stepped into the twilight zone, or I"d become Alice and ended up in Wonderland.

He dropped a gentle kiss against my wrist, brushing his lips tenderly over the scars. “Being twenty-four for many years has its advantages. I have degrees in any number of study areas, because I appear young enough to attend college repeatedly.” Sensing my obvious confusion, he explained more fully. “We have a range of ages we pretend to be. For me, I range between twenty and twenty-eight. It permits us a time settled in one area, then we have to move again, before people notice we"re not aging. Ben tends to work between twenty-two and thirty-four, although he pushes the end of the spectrum at thirty-four. His physical age when he became vampire, was twenty-six.”

“What about—” I blushed and stumbled over the words, wondering if I was being too forward with this line of questioning. “Relationships, people. Haven"t you been lonely?”

“I"ve had Ben and the others. We"ve been friends for many years and have come together and lived as we do now, on occasion. Not always, of course, because we are all very individual people and sometimes one or all of us will decide we want our own space. Particularly for those of us in relationships, sometimes they prefer to separate off as a couple and live that way for a while. Then when I am studying, I tend to embrace the college lifestyle, live on campus, and interact with the other students.” He leaned towards me, and I soaked up the tantalizing aroma of his skin. “As for relationships, there have been some in the past. But there has been no one for a considerable period. Until now.” He kissed me softly, but it was all too brief and he leaned back in the chair.

relationshipsRelaxing against the pillows, I cherished his last words. I wasn"t sure where this was headed, or how we could possibly make it work, but right here and right now – it didn"t matter.