He picked up a bottle of water, cracked the seal, removed the top and handed it to me. I downed half of the water in one long pull and only realised how dry my mouth had been after it wasn’t dry any more. I set the bottle on the table next to the bed and suddenly felt awkward. There I was, in a magnificent bed being held by a blond god and all I could think about was that my sweatsuit was all rumpled and my mouth tasted sour, which didn’t bode well for the state of my breath.
Devereux smiled and stroked my hair. ‘Your breath is fine, but after you rest a while longer, if you wish to refresh yourself in order to feel confident, I can provide everything you need. Now I think you ought to lie back down. You still look pale.’
‘That’s something, coming from you,’ I teased self-consciously, in an attempt to change the subject.
‘Yes.’ He grinned. ‘I suppose you could say I have no need of suntan lotion.’
He put his hand behind my head, grasped it gently, and guided it down towards the pillow. It did feel wonderful to surrender into the soft mattress again. He stretched out next to me, our bodies touching, his head propped on his palm, facing me.
‘Kismet, are you having more dreams lately? More than usual?’
I thought about the child’s fangs in my neck and my skin went clammy.
‘It isn’t that I’m having more dreams. I always dream. It’s that the dreams, the nightmares, are horrible. Graphic and bloody and violent. Completely unlike my usual dreams. Why do you ask?’
‘The same thing is happening to me and many others of my kind – an increase in dark visions and nightmares.’
I lifted my head, stared at him. ‘Are you saying that vampires dream?’
He opened his eyes wide and raised a brow. ‘That is the first time you have referred to me as a vampire. Do you realise that you have just accepted what I am? What has happened to change your belief?’
‘Well, it was mostly because of talking to Alan. And what I saw at your club last night.’
At the mention of Alan, a heavy feeling settled in my stomach. Chinese food with a side of Guilt poured over Shame. I hoped Alan was still sleeping soundly on my couch. I didn’t know if Devereux was aware of my sexual interlude with Alan earlier, but I knew Alan wasn’t aware of my relationship with Devereux.
What a tangled web we weave . . .
‘Yes.’ Devereux responded to my thoughts. ‘I am aware of your time with Alan, but you are a grown woman and able to make your own decisions. As much as I wish I could have been there for you this morning, that was not possible. I am glad someone was. Of course, you will never find yourself in such a predicament ever again, so there will be no need for you to turn to anyone but me.’ Then he chuckled. ‘Feeling guilty? You surprise me. I would not have expected such a thing from a modern woman. Why would you feel guilty? You did nothing wrong.’
‘Well, Mr Mind-reader, I don’t really. It’s just old programming, cultural baggage. Most women have some of it – the idea that we’re bad if we express our sexuality freely. I know all the therapeutic reasons why guilt isn’t useful, but I still feel it anyway.’ I sighed. ‘Yesterday Tom walked in on me in the bathtub and if he hadn’t behaved extremely badly, I might have had sex with him. Then last night I just about tore your clothes off at the club, and today I was with Alan. After two years of celibacy, that’s a lot to deal with. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually so repressed.’
His voice wrapped me in aural fur as he stroked my cheek with the side of his finger. ‘It is not necessary for you to be so hard on yourself. You have had a lot of changes to integrate and understand. Being in the presence of a vampire has altered your normal behaviours. As I mentioned before, we have that effect on humans.’
‘What do you mean? What effect?’
‘Expanded appetites of all kinds. So turning to Alan for comfort was a natural thing to do. You had been through a terrible ordeal.’ Anger flashed in his eyes. ‘An ordeal that will never happen again, I promise you. You are mine to protect now.’
I felt the air crackle and my skin tingled. Wow. He’s capable of some impressive mood swings himself. This probably isn’t a good time to talk about the ‘mine to protect’ thing.
He took a slow breath and his eyes returned to their calm, magical turquoise.
The corners of his mouth curved gently. ‘But we were talking about dreams. You asked if vampires dream. Yes. We have access to levels of consciousness that are unavailable to most mortals, and when we turn inward during the daylight hours, our minds – or souls, if you will – journey to other realms, dimensions that cannot be explained with words, worlds that exist beyond the waking and sleeping dreams that humans know. Are you willing to share your nightmare with me?’
‘I thought you could read my mind. Why do you need me to tell you the dream?’
‘For some reason, I can only sense it as a series of emotional impressions – fast-moving pictures. If you tell me what you experienced, perhaps I can help you understand what it is trying to communicate to you. That is what psychology teaches, yes?’
‘Yes, that’s true, but I still don’t understand why you want to know.’
‘Honestly, I am not sure. I simply feel compelled to find out. Unless it is too unpleasant to recount again so soon?’
‘No. I believe that dreams are metaphorical messages, so I might as well figure out what this one really means.’
I gave him all the details of the nightmare, along with all the feelings it triggered in me. He listened quietly, his brows contracted, his lips compressed.
‘We must make time very soon to discuss the symbols in your dream. It is fascinating that so many are having similar visions. It is also important for us to have a conversation about vampires and what acceptance of us will mean for you. I wish we had time to begin the dialogue now because I would have preferred to explain tonight’s ceremony to you in greater detail, but we must hurry.’
‘Wait a minute.’ My stomach tightened. ‘I don’t care for the sound of that. What will this ceremony consist of? What would you have explained?’
A knock sounded at the door and a petite five-foot-nothing twenty-something woman stepped into the room. She looked more pixie than vampire, at least until she spoke and exposed very visible, highly distinctive fangs. She had bright red hair that curled around her shoulders, large brown eyes, and she wore a sheer black dress under which was, apparently, nothing but skin.
‘Master, it is nearly time for the ceremony. The others are arriving.’
Master?
Devereux acknowledged her and she backed out of the room.
He climbed off the bed, stood next to it and held out his hand to me. ‘I swear to you that no matter how strange the ceremony may appear to you, no matter how unfamiliar, no harm will come to you. A ritual of protection is one of the oldest, most potent types of magic. In its simplest form, it is a focusing of intention that surrounds the one who needs protection with a powerful aura of well-being that repels all energy unlike itself. It will be as if you are floating in an invisible bubble of safety. Not very different from current pagan rituals.’
Pagans with fangs?
I sat frozen on the bed, my mind spinning out ever-more-gory, blood-soaked scenarios about the mysterious ceremony. No matter how logical his explanation, I barely knew Devereux and had no reason to trust him. He was apparently a vampire, and I was at his mercy. What I’d observed about Devereux and his colleagues didn’t fit into any reality I knew about. I had no frame of reference. I was completely at sea with no map or compass, and the lifeboat I’d been floating in up until then had sprung a leak. I had no idea if there were sharks in the water.
My stomach contracted so tightly I could barely breathe.