“How do I know you’re not an immortal just saying that to get me to drop my guard?” Stuart asked, his face reflecting both suspicion and hope.
Well for one thing, immortals are powerful enough that they don’t need to coax you into letting down your guard. They can overpower you and do whatever it is you think they might do with very little effort. For another, I was one of Bastien’s followers. I surrendered the night of the final battle with the immortals at his lair and have been living here ever since. But you’ll learn all of this and more eventually.
“What about the other one? Where is he?”
Bastien caught Melanie’s gaze. “Where’s Joe?”
She bit her lip and looked uneasy. “I think he’s resting.”
Had she had to sedate Joe? Had he had a break? Or had she worried what Joe might say to Stuart?
I’m here, Joe said, voice low and emotionless. He had definitely been drugged. The virus is fucking with my head today. Listen to Cliff. He isn’t as far gone as I am. I think . . . I think I’m not seeing things clearly right now. Cliff is.
Stuart sobered. He turned to Melanie. “Can you help us?”
“I hope so, Stuart. That’s why I’m glad you’re here. The more I learn and the more insight you and other vampires can provide me with, the closer we’ll get to finding a method of preventing the madness.”
Stuart nodded. “What can I do?”
“For now? If you aren’t averse to it, I’d like to take a small sample of your blood, then we can get you settled in your new apartment.”
Stuart looked at Bastien. “It’s . . . it’s really an apartment? It’s not a cell?”
This isn’t a prison, Stuart. We live well here, Cliff said. We each have our own apartment with whatever furnishings and electronic gadgets we want, though our phone and Internet activity is monitored for safety’s sake.
Bastien smiled and nodded as Stuart’s eyes widened.
“So . . . I get my own place?”
Melanie smiled. “Yes. We want you to be comfortable and, more important, happy here.”
Stuart looked stunned. “I’ve never had my own apartment before. Or my own room. I always had to share . . . with my brothers or with a dorm mate. Man, I had some sucky dorm mates.”
Melanie laughed. “Well, let’s hurry and do your blood work so you can get settled.”
Stuart gave her an enthusiastic nod.
Bastien touched her arm as she started to turn away. “We should get back to hunting. Stuart said something went down at Duke last night, so every immortal needs to be out there trying to find Emrys and his men before they find more vampires.”
Her brow creased with worry as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “Okay. Be careful.”
“I will.” He started to move away.
She held on to his arm and tapped her lips with her index finger. “Kiss?”
Bastien might be mistaken, but he was pretty sure the heat stealing up his neck as he looked at the others was a blush.
Stuart snickered. Richart grinned and crossed his arms over his chest.
Full of aw-shucks, Bastien bent and pressed his lips to Melanie’s. Drawing back, he decided she tasted too good not to go back for seconds and proceeded to kiss the stuffing out of her.
“Okay, sport.” Richart grasped the neck of Bastien’s coat and gave it a yank, forcing them apart. “You can come back for more later.” He smiled at Melanie, whose eyes were bright and cheeks were flushed. “Always a pleasure.”
Then Bastien and Richart were being buffeted by a strong wintery wind atop Perkins Library at Duke University.
Richart may as well have dumped Bastien in a cold shower.
Lisette’s slender figure stepped from the shadows. She did not look pleased to see them. “I told you I was fine.”
The frown on her lovely face dissolved as her gaze dropped to the very obvious bulge in Bastien’s pants. “Is that for me? Because I will admit to having a fondness for bad boys.”
Bastien sighed. Some nights the headaches spawned by living with immortals seemed far worse than those vampires could provoke.
Stuart loved his apartment.
Sitting at the desk in her office, Melanie smiled as she made several notations in the chart she had begun for him. He had been so eager to see “his new place” that she had relented and taken him there first.
He had been astounded by the size and room he’d been afforded. While he had sat on the sofa and ogled the large flat-screen TV, cushy furniture, and assorted electronic playthings, she had drawn blood, measured his blood pressure, taken his temperature, and done all of the usual things doctors and nurses did to humans who went in for a physical.
Everything showed normal for a vampire.
Tomorrow she would elicit a verbal history from him. Find out what, if any, illnesses he had suffered before his transformation, how long he had been transformed, how he had been transformed, and how he had lived since. What he ate. How often he fed. From whom he fed.
He seemed nice, albeit cautious. She was looking forward to working with him and thought Cliff would enjoy the company now that Joe had fewer lucid moments.
So, as she stared down at his chart, she couldn’t understand why she felt . . . unnerved? Was that what she was feeling?
After those kisses Bastien had delivered, she should be floating several inches above the floor, eagerly anticipating the next.
Instead, she fidgeted in her seat and kept feeling almost as if someone were standing in the corner, watching her. Twice she’d caught herself gnawing on the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit that tended to resurface whenever she was troubled.
Melanie set her pen down and looked around her office again. Nothing out of place. No spooky shadows drew her eyes to corners. She had been having a hard time reading lately (and was too stubborn to admit she might need reading glasses—she was too young, damn it!), so she’d installed the highest-wattage bulbs she could find overhead. All was as bright as a sunny afternoon outdoors. Her peace lilies and bamboo plants thrived and provided cheerful color. As did her kitten calendar.
Tiny ripples of foreboding nipped at her feet like waves at a beach.
What was it? Was it Bastien? Had something happened to him?
Reaching for the phone, she dialed his cell.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Hi. Is Stuart settled in?”
“Yes. He even met Mr. Reordon, who was surprisingly friendly.”
“Good.”
“Is everything okay there?”
“Yes. It’s been quiet as hell actually. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“No, really. What’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice. Something’s troubling you.”
She sighed. “I just . . . feel sort of like I did before those soldiers shot me and . . . everything’s fine here, so I thought you might be in trouble or something. I don’t know. I feel stupid now for bothering you.”
“First, you aren’t bothering me.”
“He was mooning over you again,” Richart said in the background.
Melanie laughed. “Hi, Richart.”
“Ignore him,” Bastien implored. “Second, are you having a premonition?”
“Dr. Lipton is a gifted one?” she heard Lisette ask.
“Hi, Lisette,” Melanie said.
“Would a little privacy be too much to ask?” Bastien demanded.
“Oui,” Lisette retorted. “Hello, Dr. Lipton. Are you a gifted one?”
“Yes.”
“Merveilleuse!”
“That does it.” A moment passed. A breeze came over the line. “Okay. Talk quickly before they find me. I’m on the other side of campus.”
Though Melanie smiled, that low hum of danger continued to strum through her.