1-800-Psychic Hotline

Chapter Five

"I'd rather not." Lydia hissed again.

Nicholas wore a slimming white jacket knitted closely to his form and dark pants. His movements were like a big cat on the prowl. And she happened to be on the menu. His intense green eyes were affixed on her; they never left hers. Lydia felt her body go numb; all her blood headed south. The muscles in her legs tightened up as her brain readied her body to fight or flee. Looking at Nicholas as he stalked towards her, neither of those options seemed viable. If he really was what he said, a vampire could subdue her before the thought of escape ever occurred to her.

The bright glow of the fire cast a dangerous look in Nicholas's eyes, intensifying the hungry look he cast on her. He did not blink; he did not look away. His tongue darted out between his lips. Nicholas licked his lips slowly as if he knew Lydia fixed her gaze on him, watching his every move, like he had been doing this whole time. For a brief moment, Lydia saw a pair of glaring white fangs flash her out from behind his parted lips. With her jaw slackened, her mouth dried up, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, Lydia lost the ability to speak. Dropping her hands to t the side, she made no move to defend herself. The very best she could do was too slowly back away from the handsome nightmare making his way towards her. Nicholas advanced with the precise motions of a beast in heat about to capture a mate.

She blinked. It was over. Lydia felt the hard, unforgiving wall behind her back. Nicholas had her hands in an iron-clad hold. His relentless fingers bruised her wrists as he pinned them above her head. She squealed like a stuck pig. Wriggling and shuffling about did nothing to free her. If anything, it seemed to amuse Nicholas. She shivered under his cold touch as his eyes burned her soul. Lydia felt his free hand snake behind her neck. Classic vampire move. She'd seen enough television shows and movies to know where this was going. Panting for breath, Lydia could only hyperventilate as Nicholas's mouth creeped towards her, edging closer and closer still to the pulsing vein in her neck.

Suddenly, his cold lips kissed her behind the ear. Lydia gasped uncontrollably at the feel of his icy lips caressing the skin there. She jumped though she still couldn't get very far. She heard Nicholas laugh at her expense. The deep rumble vibrated against her chest. Lydia squirmed even more under Nicholas's affections. Her body became hot and bothered and terrified. This was how vampires fed! They'd seduce you and drain you dry. Lydia lost all hope when she felt his fangs prick at her ear lobe.

And just as quickly, Nicholas let her go.

She felt weightless and heavy all at once. Like being discarded. He filled her with so many different emotions. Fear, terror, dread, and even—dare she say it?—want. Lydia felt disgust once Nicholas's hands left her. She felt disgusted with herself, with her body, with him, for making desire creep inside. An ill-begotten worm fed on her lack of bedroom action and made her feel this way. She was disgusted, and worse yet she couldn't do anything about it!

Her knees buckled under her weight, making her slide down the wall and hit the floor with a sad thump. Lydia looked up to find Nicholas making himself comfortable in the armchair conveniently turned towards her. The burning fireplace made her hot skin feel unbearable. Even without a mirror, she knew that her cheeks were apple-red. Nobody had touched her in that manner for months, and even then that single one-night stand felt more like the clumsy fumblings of an inexperienced teenager stuck because of an ill-spun Coke bottle. They certainly didn't make her feel the way he did. Which was the worst part. Nicholas could force those emotions upon her without trying very hard. He hadn't touched any further than her waist and hadn't even French kissed her. Who knew a little kiss behind the ear could be such a turn on? Shaking her head as if that would push such wretched thoughts from her mind, Lydia gathered enough strength to glare back him.

He made himself the king of a tiny empire, and Lydia was nothing more than a peasant. He made damn sure to make her aware of her place. Nicholas had centuries on her. The knowledge of the ages rested in his sharp green eyes and he wielded that power with a velvet-covered iron fist. Nicholas perched himself in his chair like a goddamned king. He sat on his throne with that stupid smug look on his face. To Nicholas, it must have seemed like he won a special prize. What she would do just to punch that wide grin off his pretty face! As if sensing her thoughts, Nicholas briefly shot her a nasty look. He silently said I would love to see you try, darling. Looking at her from his throne, Lydia all flushed and weak, he enjoyed every second of this power over her.

"Oh, don't worry, darling," he purred. "If I wanted a drink, I wouldn't have taken the effort of having you brought to me."

"Why? Do captives not do it for you?" Lydia wished she kept her fat trap shut. It was her curse.

"No," Nicholas chuckled. The sound of his dark laughter echoed in the parlor and was made that much more impressive by the intimidating shadows surrounding Lydia. "I like the hunt. Having someone else bring me my quarry takes all the excitement out of it."

"Gee, thanks for that, I suppose." Lydia couldn't help but sneer at him.

She tried to get to her feet, only to verbally cuss out her legs for being so weak. Lydia tried not to look at Nicholas as she grabbed hold of the fireplace's mantle for balance. Though she didn't look, not even from the corner of her eye, she could still feel his eyes on her. The hunger, the bloodlust, the thrill of the chase. She could see it all swimming around his emerald eyes. They looked just as intense as they did in her vision. She had been right to be weary, and even afraid, of this man. Could she call him that? A human he certainly was not.

She didn't see the need to avoid the word vampire anymore. There was no point in denying what sat in front of her. Denying seemed pointless as throwing a dead fish back into the water and hope it would swim. But just as curiosity made her wonder what else lived out there in the wide world, a cloud of dread drowned her. Vampires were scary, but they were hardly the only terrible things that go bump in the night.

"Would you like some assistance?"

Lydia heard Nicholas offer help. She wanted to spit in his general direction, however she figured that hawking a luggie at an ancient vampire would be the last thing she wanted to do. For very explicit reasons, she figured that Nicholas would not be the kind of man (vampire?) who'd appreciate her saliva on his shoes or in his face. He pinned her against the wall and almost bit her for doing absolutely nothing other than having delicious veins full of sustaining blood. She didn't want to know what unspeakable horrors he would unleash on her if she managed to spit on him.

"No, thank you," Lydia hissed.

"Suit yourself, then." Nicholas added with a bored tone.

Taking several deep breaths, Lydia willed her body to calm down. She focused on her breathing for several minutes. Trying not to think about the vampire eyeing her like a juicy steak, she let go of the mantle piece and started towards a seat farthest from Nicholas. She could still feel the slight tremor coursing through her body from the hips down, but she managed to stagger across the parlor. Lydia landed safely on the velvet sofa which faced the fireplace.

Nicholas stood from his armchair. Lydia stiffened when she watched him rise and turn slightly towards her. Her heart started pounding against her chest again, rattling the bones of her rib cage. Jittery, her foot tapped against the Persian rug. Lydia could feel the blood pulsing, throbbing against her veins. Did Nicholas hear it? Did he hear how fast he made her blood pulse under that vulnerable flesh of hers? Could he hear how her heart beat against her bones like a savage? His sharp green eyes flickered towards her. Behind him, the firelight glowed fiercely. Lydia stared at him as if he were some kind of wrathful angel sprung from hell bent on her dragging her kicking and screaming into the fiery depths that borne him. Those piercing eyes caused a painful shiver to run through her body, reaching down into the marrow of her bones.

But then he turned. Nicholas grabbed his armchair and turned it about so that when he sat down again, he could continue looking at her. Lydia felt the faint impression of being observed like an exhibit at the zoo rather than prey. The feeling shortly overrided the terror that had been pulsing throughout her system, sending adrenaline to shoot through her limbs as 'flight or fight' impulse took its toll. Her body became one giant bundle of nerve set to explode any second now. It would be impossible for Nicholas to have not noticed. He was vampire! How could he not? His supernatural hearing must have picked up her increased heart rate before she could it hear pounding in her ears. Sitting so comfortably and regally in his gorgeous velvet armchair, Nicholas didn't seem interested in her pulse now.

No. His eyes were focused on, however the monstrous hunger in his eyes vanished. Nicholas's eyes looked at her as if she was nothing more than a puzzle piece. Those eyes of his could shatter a soul with just one glance, and yet he observed her with a little more concern than he would a potted plant he forgot to water. It frustrated her to no end. Hot and cold! Lydia couldn't take much more of this treatment.

"What do you want?"

Nicholas hummed as if he had been disturbed.

"You kidnapped me and brought me here for a reason. You didn't get the kid to pick me off the street just so you could scare me half to death. If you're the goddamned vampire you say you are, then why haven't you bitten me? Really bitten me?" Lydia folded her arms over her chest. She read somewhere that it made one look intimidating. To be honest, Nicholas made it very easy to feel incredibly small. He was smaller than she expected for her first vampire, but it was his presence that made her simper inside. She wondered if all vampires were like this.

"I told you. I have no interest in sending somebody to fetch me my meals. It takes the fun out of it," Nicholas replied, still bored.

"So you like to bite people who fight back? Unwillingly then?"

"I didn't say that," he chuckled. "Believe me. I like it when I'm given a chase, but it isn't because they don't want me to bite them. Once they know who and what I am, finding me irrestiable is an impulse that consumes them."

"You don't bite unwilling victims?" Lydia spat.

A vampire's feeding process sounded more like an overtly gothic rephrasing of s****l intercourse. The penetration, the fluid exchange, it all sounded very much like s*x to Lydia. Now that vampires were real, it opened up a whole new can of worms. As hard as she tried to shove those nasty, slimy things back inside their tin can, those wriggly creatures would never go back. Vampires were real, very real. And it was only a matter of time before the vampire right in front of her would clamp his vampires into her neck.

"No. As you have already assumed, feeding from a living person is very much like sex."

The way he said it made Lydia's cheeks heat up. Again. She didn't know why, and she didn't want to know why, but the blood in her face heated up when that word fell from his smooth, pale lips. She was discussing a dangerous topic with an even more dangerous man, and her cheeks were flushed like a virgin. There were so many wrong things about this picture and she hated herself for it. Nicholas must have noticed her flushing because he opened his big, fat, fanged mouth once more.

"Are you a virgin?" His question shook her. Disturbed her.

In this day? In 2017? Am I twelve? Lydia's brows furrowed.

"Are you a virgin?" He repeated. Slowly this time. Lydia really didn't care for his tone.

"What? No," she stood up. "Not that it's any of your business. I think we're done here. If you have no important business to get to, I'd like to go home."

Lydia glanced at Nicholas before giving him her back. She started for the parlor doors but had not yet heard Nicholas get out of his seat and follow her. Her blood still raced, no doubt and she could feel his eyes boring a hole into the back of her skull. But he made no move to stop her. With her back turned, Lydia smiled to herself, grateful to get away. She made it half way to the door when his voice, like the voice of God, beckoned her.

"I didn't say I was through with you." His voice possessive, Nicholas succeeded only in further grating on her last few good nerves. He'd already been widdling at them since the moment they forced her through the parlor doorway. Nicholas hot and cold treatment left her raw inside.

Hell-bent on telling him, Lydia whipped around with all the fury of a vengeful harpy on the attack when she found herself gaping at Nicholas. Quickly, she glanced at his empty chair. Lydia shifted her eyes back onto him. Nicholas's intense stare was back, an attitude. Apparently, vampires didn't like being ignored.

"I think," Nicholas reached for her and cupped her chin. "You should stay."

His eyes were swimming with emotion, but this time, Lydia saw something else. Determination. His eyes bore down on her, intently focused. Nicholas stared directly into her eyes like he was trying to find the Ark of the Covenent hidden in them. Well, he wasn't going to find it in there. Be sure of that.

"I don't think so," Lydia hissed.

Whatever she said, it seemed to take him aback. Confusion flickered across Nicholas's face before it quickly disappeared. He put his mask back on and reached for her face with his other hand. Cupping her face between them, Nicholas pulled her an inch closer. His cold breath fanned across her cheeks, down her neck. She couldn't repel the shiver running over her body. Fear of what he might do kept her rooted to the spot, but Lydia felt oddly curious. She thought Nicholas to be up to something and she wanted to know what.

"I really think you should," Nicholas whispered.

He pulled her even closer now. Their lips were merely a quarter of inch away from kissing. Lydia's head began to swim. The longer she stared up at those fierce green eyes, the longer she felt she could give him anything. A fog creeped into her brain, slithering about the cracks and crevices. Ghostly fingers seemed to reach inside her head to scope around for an opening to gain full control.

"I want—" Lydia murmured. Under this spell, she could have told him her deepest, darkest fears if that's what he wanted. She would tell him what kind of underwear she wore and all he'd have to do is ask.

"Yes," he purred. Lydia might have been able to taste the eagerness on her tongue if she stuck it out.

Nicholas pulled her even closer still. Their lips lightly touched each others. Nicholas's eyes narrowed. He moved his lips as if to kiss her. Lydia froze when she had his lips moving against hers. Her body turned to stone even as she felt her body lurch away from him, reeling back from a sucker punch to her gut. But Nicholas's hands were on her face. It hadn't been him.

As if a ray of sunshine thrust its way through the fog, Lydia's head suddenly cleared. The fog retreated back into its darkness and the skeletal fingers that had been reaching inside her mind were forced back and exorcised. Her eyes shot open, wide and clear. She sneered at Nicholas, who then realized whatever trick he tried to play didn't just fail. It failed miserably. Lydia reached up, grabbed his arms, and tried to wrestle his hands away from her. She forgot that Nicholas had about three-thousand years on her and could possibly bench press a school bus. Her slender little hands simply weren't going to cut it. Nicholas held her tighter and nearly forced her head all the way back.

"How are you resisting?" Nicholas asked as if this was the first time his hypnotic tactic failed him.

Lydia stopped struggling long enough to answer, "What do mean? What were you trying to do to me?"

"Vampires can glamor people. I thought that might have been common knowledge." Nicholas's puzzlement might have amused Lydia if he hadn't been standing oh-so dangerously close.

"If this was a book by Charlaine Harris, maybe! Most people don't think vampires even exist, let alone how they can glamor…Wait a minute. Did you just try to hypnotize me?" Lydia couldn't help but shriek.

Kidnap her. Force your company on her. Fine. She could live with that. However, Nicholas crossed the line. Her thoughts were her own. Lydia was strange in that she was possessive of her thoughts. Nobody invaded her mind. Nobody.

"I didn't try to hypnotize you. Glamor is different from simple hypnosis."

"Like how?" Lydia snapped. She didn't feel like asking stupid questions but maybe if she kept his talking he would get distracted long enough for her to figure a way out of here.

"Glamoring isn't as powerful as Hollywood makes it out to be. The latent desire has to be there. Otherwise, it won't work," he answered. Nicholas still wore that puzzled look on his face.

GOOD! Let him wonder for a little bit.

"Pfft!" Lydia snorted. "As if. Why would I want to stick around here for? Around you? You've only tried to assault me, twice!"

"Did I ever raise a hand against you with the purpose of hitting you?"

Lydia answered with only a sneer.

"Then I'm not entirely the bad guy here, am I?" Nicholas chuckled, though it sounded not nearly as hearty as earlier. To be honest, he sounded a smite disappointed.

He slowly let her go. He let his fingers linger against her cheeks as if reluctant to set her free from his grasp. Nicholas retreated back to his chair and gestured for her to return to the sofa. Lydia didn't take the bait. She refused to answer to his beck and call. Remaining where she stood, Lydia straightened her shoulders and lifted her head up high. This time…this time she wasn't going to whimper and moan like a b***h. She wasn't going to be anybody's plaything.

"And what makes you think that I wanted to stay here, with you?"

"Denial is such an ugly thing, my dear," Nicholas answered her with a voice cold as Greenland frost.

"Denial would be true if I had something to lie about. I don't. I don't want to be here. I want to go home. Tell me what you want and then send me on my happy way," Lydia answered in an equally chilly tone.

"You know what I want." A glimmer of his frustratingly sensuous nature returned. In his eyes, that dreaded come-hither look came back to taunt her with a shadow of its former glory lingering to tempt and tease her.

A viper waited in the grass for her to approach. Lydia knew she was smart; she knew where to tread. She would not be baited by the silence and tricked into believing that he didn't lie in wait. Foolishness was made of such naivety.

"No, I don't."

Nicholas growled. Rolling his eyes, he leaned his head against his hand like a melodramatic poet. With ridiculous flouncy his shirt and the Victorian setting surrounding him, Nicholas could give Lord Byron a run for his money. "We talked about it over the phone! Something is killing vampires, and I need to find out what."

"That sound terrifying. Let me know when you find out who it is!"

"You're the only real, living psychic in this goddamned city. You may be the only one in the entire East Coast. Had it been otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered finding you. As it stands, you, you of all people are the one to help me."

"I'm not helping you with anything. Forget it."

"You have no choice."

"Read my lips," Lydia snapped her two index fingers towards her mouth. "For-get it!"

"If this thing continues, the food chain will be disrupted! Vampires are not the only things you should be afraid of, Lydia Sharpe. There are worse things than vampires. We are, fortunately for you, far more reasonable and sensible than other creatures who wouldn't hesitate to rip and maim and r**e you to their bestial hearts' content!"

Fury painted his eyes a devastating color. Nicholas heaved for breath as if his immortal lungs needed air. From where she stood, she could still see his teeth grinding against each other. Lydia watched how his knuckles an impossible shade of white as he clutched to the lion sticking out at the head of the chair's arm. She thought her heart leapt into her throat. Nicholas looked at her. All it took was this one look from him and Lydia regretted her life choices up to this point. Every single one of them. Swallowing hard, she started making her way the sofa.

"And you would be so lucky if they killed you first," he continued.

"Are you done?"

Nicholas looked at the ceiling like he held all the answers of the world. He seemed to think on her question for a moment longer than he should. Lowering his gaze, he fixed his eyes on her again. "Yes."

"What makes you think I can help you? What can I do?"

"You can help us identify the creature."

"You think I can do that," she asked, brow c****d, incredulous.

"I believe you can with the proper motivation."

"s*x isn't going to get you anywhere. n*********a isn't for me."

This seemed to bring a smile back to Nicholas's face. His eyes twinkled. "It's hardly n*********a if I'm technically not dead. If I was, how do you suppose I would be talking to you except inside a cozy séance?"

"I don't sleep with the living dead, either, then," said Lydia. Her cheeks felt warm. f**k!

"What if I changed your mind?" Nicholas wiggled his eyebrows.

Lydia stifled herself. Nicholas exuded so much power and sexuality and great command of the latter, he didn't need to do anything. He looked more comical than sensual with that gesture.

"I doubt it," she snorted.

"In time," Nicholas rose from his chair.

He joined her on the couch. Sitting on the opposite end, Nicholas stretched his arm out over the back of it. His fingers almost, very nearly touched her. Lydia quietly scooted back just to be a teensy bit further out of his reach. Though he could easily overpower her in the amount of time it would take for a bullet to shoot from a barrel, Lydia took some comfort in edging as far as she could from him. Her corner of the couch seemed the safest place right now. Nicholas didn't glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. She must have done something quite funny because he chuckled. A moment later, he turned towards the fire and watched it burn.

"If we are not careful, my dear, this city will burn," he murmured.

"Literally or figuratively?" Lydia asked.

"Both," Nicholas answered with the solemnity worthy of a funeral.

"Oh." Lydia's mind went blank. She somehow knew that whatever Nicholas said, he meant it. His tone and body language said everything. He had been somewhat honest up to this point, she had very little reason not to believe that he lied now. And if he did, whatever for?

"You used to be ignorant. Just like all the rest of your kind. If humans knew what truly lurked in the world, they would lose their minds. They couldn't comprehend what kind of monsters creep and slither and tread the vast earth. It would be chaos."

"I'm human and you're telling me all this!" Lydia pointed out.

Nicholas shifted in his seat so that he faced her. He leaned his forehead against his arm propped against the couch's back. His gaze seemed almost worried. Lydia dared to even call it tender; he looked at her the same way Daniel did. It frightened her. It had been less than an hour and she was already comparing Nicholas to her ex-boyfriend. She needed to get over this s****l dry spell.

"Have you ever seen Men in Black?" Nicholas asked.

Lydia laughed. She could hardly stop herself from doing it. It burst out of her like a bubble. The image of Nicholas in black silk pajamas sitting in his bed watching science fiction movies while he sipped from a blood bag popped into her mind. The image made the joke even worse.

"Have you?" She chortled. Lydia clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from making a bigger ass out of herself than she already had.

Nicholas c****d his brow at her. "What? A vampire can't have an interest in movies? What on earth do you think I do on my days off?"

"Do you really just sit around and watch T.V all night when you're at home?"

"Don't you?"

"I'm human. That's what we do," Lydia laughed.

She couldn't believe she was having an almost civilized conversation with a vampire. About movies no less! Lydia discretely pinched her arm to check to see if she got herself stuck in a dream. The slight twinge extending from the crook of her elbow said otherwise. Lydia grinned from ear to ear because what was she to do otherwise? If she wasn't asleep and she was fairly certain she didn't suffer from mental illness, then that could only mean one thing. Vampires watched Men in Black. Could it any more surreal than that? Lydia felt like running up to the roof and shouting the terrifying truth she found out, but then Nicholas started speaking.

"Which brings us back to my point. When Agent K tells Edwards about the reason behind the secrecy of the Men in Black organization, do you remember what he says? 'A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know.' Doesn't sound true, darling? You're human. What's your impression of the human race? Do you think that they will be able to handle the sudden turn of events when they realize that they are no longer the only sentient creatures on this planet?" He looked at her and added in a stern voice, "And, please, be honest."

Lydia glanced back before she turned away to stare into the fire to think. She'd seen too much to know that while she could slowly adjust to this new reality, there were too many others would not be so. Too many verables to even comprehend such a situation. Some humans might be able to accept the supernatural, however there were many, many others who wouldn't share the same ideas. People clung to silly ideals. They were fanatics and extremists as many as there were ordinary believers. The guarantee that humans would wholly accept the idea of supernatural monsters living amongst them was nothing more than a pipe dream. Lydia looked at Nicholas who waited patiently for her answer.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I don't think that would…go over too well." For lack of better words.

"My point exactly, little thing," said Nicholas.

Lydia shuddered. His pet names for her were slowly getting under her skin. Nicholas had clearly been given a silver tongue at birth, and from how he used it, she wasn't surprised she let him talk to her like that. But this particular pet name struck a nasty chord for her. It felt infantilizing and demeaning. If he was going for endearing, Nicholas failed on that point.

"Don't like that one?" She heard Nicholas ask.

"No," Lydia shot him a look.

He pouted but seemed to concede. "I'll cross that off the list then, sweeting." Nicholas winked.

"I'd rather you call me by my name."

"Too soon?"

"I barely know you! More to the point, you don't know me and yet you're asking for a pretty big fuckin' favor. You don't even known if I'm capable of finding the thing you're looking for. I don't know if I'm capable of helping you!"

"We can try," Nicholas offered.

"Can I go home now?" She whined. Lydia didn't want to be here. They shared a moment too unreal for her then they slipped back into being two grown ass adults bickering. Well, she wasn't sure if she could call herself such a thing with him in the room. Compared to him, Lydia must seem like a toddler.

"I'll let you think on my offer, if that makes you feel better," he said as he rose from the couch.

Nicholas walked over to the mantle and opened the silver box sitting there below the Grecian landscape hung above the fireplace. He picked up something from inside, but he had his back towards Lydia; she couldn't see what he pulled out. When he turned again, he held a small business card between his index and middle finger. Nicholas strutted back across the parlor, making sure his smooth movements were noticeable. Like a goddamned peacock. He stood in front of her extending his hand towards her. He stared down at her and waved the business card invitingly. Lydia plucked the card just to get it out of the way.

"Should you change your mind, you may find me here," Nicholas explained.

Lydia looked at the card she snatched from him. A silver card with a black Victorian floral around the edges distinguished itself from the other business cards Lydia have been handed. The Graveyard was written in a bold, edgy script on the front followed with the address in New York City and a phone number below it in a smaller print. Turning it over, she looked on the back. She saw a picture of a tombstone with the words 'see you soon' scrawled in the monument.

Lydia looked up at Nicholas. He winked at her open-mouthed expression.

"Don't keep me waiting, Lydia," Nicholas purred.