‘Don’t leave without me!’ Tom called back over his shoulder.
‘Your friend is an interesting person.’ Devereux chuckled. ‘Seeing you with me caused quite a storm of emotions inside him. He is concerned that he was wrong to let you go. He is reconsidering.’
‘Are you jealous?’ I blurted, without thinking. What was I, a fourteen-year-old?
He snuggled in close and enveloped me in that wonderful spicy scent again. His eyes shimmered in the dim light and his voice flowed like music. ‘No. I am not jealous. I am certain of your feelings for me. What you and I have is beyond petty human emotions.’
I briefly thought about insisting that I had no feelings for him, but I had no clue what was going on with me. Saying I didn’t have any feelings about him would be a lie, and how could I fool someone who appeared to have the ability, whether I liked – or believed – it or not, to know what I was thinking and feeling? Was that every woman’s dream or worst nightmare?
Instead I asked, ‘If I stare at your eyes again, will I jump back into your lap?’
He laughed, a full-throated sound that washed over me like warm honey. ‘No. You may look at me and remain in your seat.’
I locked eyes with him and thought, ‘Kiss me.’
‘Your wish is my command.’ He pressed his soft, warm lips against mine and plunged me once again into that deep, blissful, timeless universe where only the two of us existed. The sounds in the room receded into the background. Everyone else in the club disappeared. He gently teased his tongue into my mouth, exploring me, and I returned the favour. I heard myself making little moaning sounds. He spoke in my mind, ‘I want you.’
My body ached with desire for him. Maybe it was the buildup of sexual need during the last two years, or maybe it was my reaction to his incredible kiss, but I couldn’t think about anything except having mad, passionate sex with Devereux. And, at the same time, I knew that even having that thought was totally abnormal for me.
We reluctantly pulled apart.
‘Come. Let me show you the rest of my club.’
He stood and held his hand out to me, and I took it, feeling both anxious and excited.
I slid out of the booth, rose up on my toes, and scanned the room. ‘I should tell Tom where I’m going. Not that he deserves it. It’d serve him right if I just left him here to fend for himself.’
Devereux cocked his head. ‘The two of you had a disagreement?’
‘Sometimes, even though I know better, I let his arrogance get to me. In a sick way, he’s sort of like family. He’s one of the few people I ever trusted.’
‘Ah. Well, not to worry – Zoë will tell him you are with me.’
‘What do you mean, Zoë will tell him? How will Zoë know?’
‘I have spoken to her, in her mind, and she will convey the message. Come.’
Is he saying they all have such outrageous psychic abilities?
We walked down the set of stairs that led from our cosy booth into the central part of the club. Devereux held my hand and guided us through the crowd, which seemed to flow aside magically, creating an impossible path through the jammed-in bodies. We wound our way near the sarcophagus-shaped bar where the Leather Goddess was entertaining a group of slack-jawed males who were enthralled by her bartending talents. At the far end of the bar was an old-looking wooden door. Seated on a stool in front of the door was a large, muscular man with long grey hair, dressed in standard biker gear.
When we approached, the biker guy jumped up off his stool, quickly pushed it aside and opened the door. Either this fellow had ingested too much caffeine, he was naturally nervous, or seeing Devereux triggered an anxiety attack, because he stared at Devereux with wide eyes. I could almost feel his adrenalin pumping. This guy was afraid.
Devereux said, ‘Thank you, John,’ as we walked through the entryway and the door closed behind us. We were standing at the top of a long, wide staircase that descended down into the bowels of the club.
‘Why was that man so afraid of you?’
He placed his hand on the small of my back. ‘Some humans seek out that which terrifies them so they can be afraid, which is the only way they know to feel alive – much like watching a movie that causes one to feel fear. John is addicted to vampires.’
Listening to Devereux talk about vampires again definitely took the edge off the lust that had been there just moments ago. It was becoming clear that I’d have to accept his vampire fantasies or I wouldn’t be able to see him. And seeing him had become non-negotiable. I’d never felt so attached to anyone so quickly before. It was as if I not only needed to touch him, but I wanted to crawl into his soul. Very strange.
I still hadn’t made sense out of all the things Alan had told me about Devereux being the leader of a vampire coven. In fact, the information had been replaying in my mind all day, eating away at my logical explanations. Alan was a psychologist, after all. Why would he lie to me? Was he caught up in the delusion as well?
Truthfully, I simply didn’t want to think of Devereux as being mentally ill. Why couldn’t he just call himself a psychic, which seemed to be true? Why bother with the absurd vampire role-playing?
We walked down the stairs, which led to a long hallway with many doors along each side. I was reminded of Midnight’s comment about the lower level being a dungeon by the stone walls and the heavy doors, which looked as if they’d been created to keep screaming prisoners locked away. A cool dampness pervaded and I was almost surprised to see electric lights instead of torches lining the walls. But even though the place resembled a mediaeval castle, it really couldn’t be that old because the church itself had only existed for just over a hundred years. Yet there was an ancient feel to it.
Some of the doors were open. As we passed I could see offices, meeting rooms, storage rooms, a lounge area with a movie-screen-size television and the velvet-curtain-covered entrance to the special gathering place Midnight had told me about during her first session.
Devereux stopped in front of that room and pulled back the curtains. He nodded at me to check out the large group of people gathered inside. ‘I will introduce you to some of my companions later. Right now I selfishly wish to keep you to myself. You are a precious gift.’
I wasn’t used to men paying such attention to me, so I didn’t know what to make of all the emotions that swept over me as he said those words. Something about them triggered an old need and I suddenly felt vulnerable. I gazed up at his beautiful face and he bent over and kissed my forehead tenderly, as if he knew what I was thinking.
Well, apparently he does know what I’m thinking . . .
To give myself a moment to regroup, I decided to ask about his abilities. ‘Can you really read the thoughts of everyone around you? Surely that would take the fun out of getting to know someone. Life could get very boring if you always knew everything in advance.’
He closed the curtains, clasped my hand, and walked me further down the hallway to a set of ornate double doors. We paused there. ‘Life can indeed become boring, which is one reason why I mastered the ability to read thoughts selectively. As I have said, your thoughts are private unless I actively choose to listen to them. The constant mental chatter is also very distracting, and often there are other matters that require my attention. I have responsibility for several large businesses, for example.’
‘Oh, I see.’ So even though he can use his abilities all the time, he expects me to believe he doesn’t.
He used an old-fashioned key to open the door and ushered me into a huge room filled with lovely antiques, tapestries and artwork. The room was big enough to contain my entire townhouse with space to add a garage. Along the walls were beautiful candelabra holding lit candles which, combined with the prisms of light shining from an overhead chandelier, gave the room a soft illumination. The stone walls must have created natural soundproofing because I couldn’t hear the music from upstairs any more. The silence was rich.