Holly shifted, leaning over the seat to get her backpack. The air stirred with her scent, reeling him closer still. "Are you coming in?" she asked, getting out of the T-Bird.
Alessandro sat for a moment, his hands clutching the wheel, before he could move. He was frozen, caught in a brief wave of terror and need. He was a monster. She was vulnerable.
I love her. I will make sure everything is safe inside her house; then I will leave. "Of course. I know you warded the house, but I still want to check it over. Just in case."
"Yeah, I'd hate to have to send you out for more mousetraps." Holly ran up the steps to unlock the door. There was a flirting invitation in her tone that was impossible to miss. He followed, using vampire speed to catch up.
He allowed himself to dream for the split second it took to reach her. What if I could be the man, and not the monster, for the smallest slice of time? Surely that is not asking the moon and the stars?
He shouldn't. There was too much to do. He had responsibilities. There were risks.
She switched on the entry light. "Come on in."
"Thank you," Alessandro said, wavering for the merest second before stepping inside her doorway.
Holly watched as he stood for a moment, every line of his body uneasy. Then, after a quick look down at himself, he peeled off the shredded remnants of his jacket, dropping the ruin on a chair. She would miss that fringed leather, or at least the fantasies it inspired.
"Make yourself at home," she said, leading the way into the living room. She grabbed for a note of normalcy. "Can I get you some tea?"
"Yes, thank you." There was a shred of uncertainty in his voice. Things had changed between them, but neither yet knew what that meant.
"I won't be a moment."
As she turned to head for the kitchen, he directed his attention to her shelf of CDs, methodically flipping through the jewel cases.
I let a vampire taste my blood. That should have terrified her, but it didn't. The experience hadn't been frightening at all. Instead her stomach felt curiously light, buoyed by nervous anticipation. Maybe all her assumptions were wrong, and there was some way that she and Alessandro could be more than partners. Or maybe she was just believing what she wanted to think. How can I know?
The kettle quieted to a rolling boil, rattling gently on the crooked old burner. She spooned Lady Grey, lemony and comforting, into the pot and filled it. Steam curled out of the spout, reminding her of a miniature ghost.
She let the moment linger, full of possibilities. Around her the house felt serene, its consciousness turning inward like a cat drowsing by the hearth.
It was a moment of peace. I'm so tired.
Holly took the tea tray into the living room and set it on the old walnut library table that sat under the window. With deliberate care she poured the tea and passed Alessandro his cup. He sniffed the steaming liquid, holding the raku vessel in both hands.
"Do you think we will be safe here tonight? No more changeling armies on the agenda?" she asked.
"Between us, I think we can handle any nuisance callers." He shrugged, smiling a little. The mesh T-shirt he wore showed off his chest and arms. He had hard, practical muscles, the physique of the pre-industrial age. It made the shrug a fine thing to watch.
She sat down. The crisis was over and with it the need to act. I'm so tired. She sipped her tea, feeling its warmth sliding down her throat like an elixir.
The moment of ease was treacherous. Just like after the battle with the Flanders house, the backwash of fear and magic took an emotional toll. Tears started to slip down her face before she even noticed them. Hastily she put her cup on the coffee table and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
This is ridiculous. There had to be a box of tissues nearby.
"Holly?" Alessandro rose. She could hear the confusion in his voice.
"Sorry." She jumped up, but he grasped her hand. For a moment she could not bring herself to raise her eyes, but stared at the holes in his mesh shirt instead. His flesh looked ivory white where it peeked through the threads. Twisting away slowly, she tried to turn her back without making the gesture seem angry.
Instead he put his hands on her shoulders, holding her still with a grip gentle but unyielding as rebar. When a vampire wanted a person to stay, they stayed.
"What is it?"
"It's been a long day," she said, blinking the wetness from her eyes. The storm of tears slowed but left her queasy. "It's no one thing. It's everything. Mac. The demon. School. Everything."
"How can I make it right?" Alessandro asked, his hands sliding from her shoulders to her arms.
"It's nothing you can fix. I'm just tired." She leaned into him, feeling the honeycomb of his shirt on her cheek. All those long, lean muscles were beneath her fingertips.
"Holly," he whispered, putting his hand on her hair, stroking it. "I am sorry. I wish everything were easier."
Resting there for a long moment, she drank in the feel of him. A single heartbeat thumped under her ear, just audible over the quiet music he had put on the stereo. She raised one hand, playing her fingers over his biceps. The knot in her chest was easing as courage flowed from the mere act of touching skin to skin.
"What are we going to do?" she asked.
"About what?" He traced the curve of her ear with one finger.
"What about Mac? And the changelings? What you said about their history was incredible." She raised her head to look at him. "You know, you've never said a word about your history."
His mouth twitched. "Never ask a vampire who they were."
"Why not?"
Alessandro closed his eyes. His lashes were a light brown, long and thick enough to make a cover model jealous. "They do not always wish to remember."
Holly froze for a long moment. Having no answer, she kissed him. His eyes were still closed. She could feel his body respond to the touch of her lips, the inhalation at the unexpected contact, a flinch that was at once self-protection and unabashed need.
"You know I am a bad bargain," he said.
"Why?" Her voice was a whisper.
Alessandro put his hand on her arm, squeezing lightly. "You already know the answer. Vampirism is not just a matter of peculiar eating habits."
Holly pulled away, feeling inhuman strength even in the gentleness of his grip. "But that is only half of you…"
His eyes drifted open. "Don't make that mistake. There is no separation of the two. I lost myself when Kalil took me. I left your world."
"Kalil?" she asked.
Alessandro stared into her eyes, and for a moment she saw nothing more than another soul. "Kalil," he repeated, as though the name held countless associations. "You want to know who I was? I was a gift to him. He made me what I am. He was my sire."
"A gift?"
He hesitated, then nodded once, slowly. "It may sound strange to you, but absolute control over another person was natural enough in my time. You and I are separated not just by our species, but by centuries of custom and culture. The world I was born into was very different."
Holly remained silent, digesting what he had just said.
He frowned, as if unsure where to begin. "In my time as a human the Medici were a rising family of bankers, ambitious to achieve political power in Florence. They had money beyond imagining. I worked for them as a household servant, one of their many musicians. In every way that mattered I was theirs to give."
Holly squinted, struggling to envision people who would give a man away like a case of beer. "Did they know Kalil was a vampire?" Did they know he would eat you?