Mortified, I felt the desire to turn to the man next to me and satisfy the hunger now mixing with my own pent up feelings for him. I put my hands on my knees, fighting to control what was building within me. It wasn’t mine I called from my tiny corner. Not entirely.

  It was odd, I usually had to touch someone to get this strong of a reaction. And she wasn’t like reading James, the feeling she’d shown me was much sharper, or it was due to the fact that her lust was so similarly mirrored in my own thoughts tonight, again I cursed myself for being naive. Or maybe she was sending it straight into me on purpose. I didn’t have time to think about it. All I could do was to try to fight it before I did something foolish.

  He hadn’t seen the brunette, but James saw me struggling, put his arm around my waist again and I felt him project his shield, helping me block out the woman’s desire. I dropped my head to the table then and he put his head next to mine.

  “Are you alright?” His voice was heavy with concern. Neither the sound of his voice nor his words themselves could distract me from the brush of his lips on my ear or his hair tickling my cheek. I wanted to cry with the effort not to touch him and clenched my hands on my knees so hard my fingernails made small indents in my hands.

  “Could you get me something to drink? A water, maybe,” it came out raspy as I tried to get a hold of myself and to put some space between us. The flooding had stopped with James’ touch and I chanced a glance at her. She was doing a great job of pretending none of this had transpired, back to dancing with her men, a little smirk on her face.

  I could tell he didn’t want to leave me and to my regret, he sat up and raised his hand to signal the waitress who came at once. They spoke quietly. Of course, they didn’t need to yell over the noise with their super special hearing. Within a minute, he had a glass of something red that I didn’t want to think about and I had a glass of water sitting in front of me. I took my time sipping at it, pretending I didn’t see my hand shaking.

  Finally I felt him lean in again, sliding his hand up my back while his face came tantalizingly close to my neck as he spoke. I vaguely heard him, concentrating on the cool breeze that was his breath raising goose bumps on my flesh. “Claire are you okay? Did it work?”

  I nodded first, trying to pull away, then, taking another long pause to sip my water. I thought I could finally trust myself. “Yes, I’m okay now. I found one farther away. It wasn’t the redhead, it was the brunette with the two guys over there to the left. She has to be twice the distance.” Starting to feel more myself again, I gave in to the excitement of what had gone right. “I did it! I felt her.”

  He met my shining eyes with his own, dark with something unexpected and smiled slowly flashing a lot more tooth than I was used to seeing. His exuberant embrace was unexpected, and I felt something more than friendship in his hands as he rubbed them across the back of my shirt. His stroking brought back the barely beaten desire I had battled so arduously and did not have the strength to fight again. I felt the familiar tugging of my unexplained connection to him telling me to give in. It was more than I could bear and I threw my arms around his neck and pulled his face to mine needing him more than air.

  Ch. 15

  It was definitely morning when I opened my eyes. I could see the white glow of the sun coming around the edges of the curtains. They weren’t my curtains. The crisply tailored, midnight blue silk drapes did not match the plain tan cotton curtains that ended halfway up the wall of my dorm room. This fluffy down pillow and matched blue comforter were also not mine. I slowly stretched, feeling sore in a very new way. Oh my gosh, it hadn’t been a dream? Holy uh oh, I was in his bed!

  Last night came rushing back as I lay there. After I had kissed him, and he had kissed me back, we had left the club. We drove back here, unable to keep our hands off each other in the living room, shedding our clothes as we clung to each other. He kissed me as he carried me up the stairs and into his room where we had made love. The memory made me flush in embarrassment at my own boldness.

  Not being experienced, I didn’t know if it was always like that, but I didn’t think so from what I had overheard from my peers. And felt. It was not uncommon for the girls to be upset or feel disappointed in their experiences. Not me. Maybe there was something to immortality. He had probably been with hundreds of women and was far more knowledgeable than the young men the girls at school had lain with, or it was because of how I felt about him. I didn’t want to think too hard about it, surely I was one of a number of women and one he would inevitably forget, but in this little moment I could cling to the notion that last night had been special for us both.

  As I lay there, remembering the events of our night together and considering how I might feel about him in my head, I felt him stir behind me and I froze. What would morning be like now that our heads were clearer? Awkward? Would he regret it or tell me that our time together was at an end? I felt my whole body cringe as I thought of being cutoff from him.

  “Are you awake, Claire?” His voice was cautious. Great, he was trying to figure out a nice way to get rid of me.

  “Umm, let me find my clothes and I’ll be out of here in a minute.” I started to throw back the covers and paused in my escape discovering that I was stark naked and all of my clothes were either down the stairs or on them.

  Lightning fast, his arm shot out and wrapped around my waist, pulling me up against the front of his body. Oh, he was also naked I realized with a flutter in my stomach. I blushed and lay perfectly still.

  “It’s Saturday, do you have somewhere you need to be or could you stay a while?”

  Was he just being nice? “I, uh, don’t have anything until later this afternoon. I’m meeting my folks for a late lunch.” I dared to let myself hope for something other than the worst. “Why?”

  With our bodies touching, I could feel the rumble of his voice against my back and I closed my eyes, enjoying his closeness. “Would you like to join me for breakfast? I’m a pretty good cook.”

  “Sure, if you don’t have anything, uh, more important.” I tried not to sound too grateful.

  He pushed up onto his elbow and gently guided my chin around. I twisted to follow. “Claire, do you think last night was a mistake?” No way, he actually looked worried.

  I tried to make the words come out steady. “It wasn’t for me. Was it for you?” I didn’t think I could live through the humiliation if he said yes.

  James’ reply was halting. It was a side of him I had not expected. “No matter what you might think, I do not take lovers easily. It has been quite a while since I have brought anyone to my bed and no, I do not consider it a mistake.”

  I searched his eyes, dark with emotion and felt my uncertainty fizzling, the memory of Henry’s speech in the library coming back to me. “So, it wasn’t just physical for you?”

  “No. I can’t explain this draw I feel to you, but I will not deny it any longer. When I sensed the power of your wanting last night, I couldn’t stop myself. I am not proud of myself for taking advantage of you when you were weak with her desire. But my own was too strong to deny.” He nodded at my shocked intake of breath. “I smelled a stranger on you when she pulled you in, I knew it wasn’t the one I’d asked you to try. Are you angry with me for making your first experience with a man a dishonest one?”

  “You knew I picked the wrong one?”

  “It doesn’t bother you that I took advantage?” He refused to be deterred.

  Raising my hand, I reached out to touch his smooth cheek and watched as my fingers traced the bottom curve of his jaw. “Nothing happened that I didn’t want.” Remembering what he had said about it being my first time, I offered him a timid smile and felt my cheeks warm. “I hope it was okay for you, we’re kind of unevenly matched in experience.”

  He lowered his face to mine. I felt his cool body molded to every inch of mine and the fire banked last night was rekindled within my body. His husky voice brought me back. “Experience can’t hold a candle to passion, a place where you excelled.”

  I felt the heat burning down my neck and watched his eyes track, following it. Remembering a key sticking point between our species, my hands flew to my neck and my fingers searched for the marks I feared were there.

  “I didn’t bite you.” James’ face clouded and he pulled away, offended. “I am old enough and strong enough to resist the call of your blood, tempting though it may be.”

  Once again I felt foolish. “I’m sorry. I only know what the stories say. I thought that was what happened when our kind were together, you know, physically.”

  The tension eased in his eyes. “It can make for a more intense experience to be bitten during sex. Being bitten can be a frightening or pleasant experience, depending on what the vampire does to your mind when he bites. It is the same with marking.” He paused a moment, it almost seemed he wanted to take that last comment back.

  “What does it mean to be marked? Is it different than just being bitten or changed?” I’d never heard of being marked, until now I thought there were only two reasons for being bitten by a vampire: food or convert. “

  James’ brows knitted in thought while his hand played with a clump of curls lying on the pillow beside me. “Being marked by a vampire is not something to be taken lightly. It binds a human to the vampire for the remainder of their existences.” I watched his face wondering how he would feel about being bound to me, still confused by my disturbing need for him. “Have you ever marked anyone?”

  “No I have not.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Let me start at the beginning to clarify a few things. I suppose you will need to know all of it soon anyway.” He left the hair alone and his eyes returned to my face. “Intention is the key to what happens with the bites. If the vampire is hungry then a bite can be for feeding or draining and death.” Seeing my face at that, he added quickly, “Few still do that, it draws too much attention. Most find it best to take small amounts from several sources and leave the donor alive with no memory of the incident. If the vampire goes too far and doesn’t want the donor to die, he might choose to inject his venom and change the donor, but the donor must also drink from the vampire before expiration. It doesn’t always have to be the same vampire. Another vampire can come in and save the donor with his own venom, like what happened with me.” The guarded look on his face stopped me from asking any more than that as did Stephen’s warning that these stories were very personal. Having sex once didn’t mean he was going to tell me everything about himself and I knew that.

  “One can also be marked.” He continued. “A mark is given when a vampire takes a small amount of blood and injects incremental amounts of venom on several different occasions. Again the human must also take blood in return. Each mark changes the human a small amount and binds him or her to the vampire. After three such marks, the human is changed over completely to a vampire.”

  “I thought you just got bitten one time and that was it.” Admittedly, I didn’t know much about vampires. That would have to change, especially since it appeared I was involved with one. “What else do I need to know?” I looked at the sunlight and pointed at the window. “What about that?”

  “The sunlight? That is a bit trickier. You probably remember from our training what my feelings are like?” I nodded. “They are fuzzy, less clear, than your own.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “When we are newly changed, our sensitivities are more intense than your own even. We still have the residual human physical feelings and the new vampire sensitivities combining for an incredibly intense experience. During that period, it is best to avoid sunlight because it burns our skin. Not that we will combust as the legends say, but it hurts like a flame to the flesh. As we age, the physical sensitivity fades and we learn to ignore the tingling, and can walk around unharmed in the sunlight. I prefer to wear sunglasses, my eyes have remained sensitive all this time. Of course some choose to only move about at night. Since we do not sleep, we have the choice.”

  “James,” his name felt even sweeter on my tongue now that we were intimate. “How old are you, do you mind my asking?”

  He laughed. “Now you ask? After all the laws have been broken?”

  “We both are over eighteen.” I chuckled. “No laws were broken, except maybe decency laws. What if you were old enough to be my father or grandfather?”

  “Oh, I could be that several times over.”

  My jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

  “I was born in Quebec around 1842. It is hard to be sure because I wasn’t born in a hospital and the records were not kept as accurately as they are now. My parents were part of a large number of emigrants coming from London that year. They sought better fortunes in North America. It was very common then and I was born not long after they arrived.”

  “Oh my gosh!” I didn’t know what to say.

  “Yes, suffice it to say that I am old enough.” His face was closed, guarded once again. “Does that bother you? My age?”

  I thought seriously about it for a minute. “No, it doesn’t. What matters is now. As long as you want me here, I’m good.” Holding my breath, I realized I had put myself out there for more than just a physical dalliance without meaning to do so.

  He pulled me on top of him as he rolled over and chuckled darkly. “Oh, I want you all right.”

  Ch. 16

  James and I enjoyed the very late breakfast he was able to scare up in his kitchen. Apparently, he occasionally had human and weres for guests and carried a limited supply of food. After the long night and morning of activities, I was voracious. He was right he was a surprisingly good cook and made me a huge breakfast of eggs, toast and bacon. I ate it all.

  Stephen hadn’t been wrong about how James and Henry fed. James sipped on a travel coffee mug while he sat with me at the table for breakfast. “What is that?” I asked without thinking.

  He looked down his nose over the table. “You know what it is.”

  “Oh,” I felt stupid. “I know what it is. I was thinking about who it is.” From the look on his face, I was guessing I was starting to make him mad. Stumbling, I tried to clarify before it got worse, “What I mean is, does it bother you? Having to drink blood knowing it’s from people?”

  “At first it did, when I didn’t have control and sometimes, it didn’t end well.”

  Gulping, I realized I had tried to avoid thinking about that part of James. Seeing him as a monster.

  “After a while, I was able to streamline the process and occasionally I would take a partner who would willingly feed me.” He saw me thinking about that one and moved on before I could think very hard about it. “That was never my preferred method. I don’t like to mix sex and blood like some do. It was merely a necessity of the time. Now that we have the option of the blood bank, I choose to keep my pleasure separate from my feeding.”

  Funny, I hadn’t realized how much of my knowledge of vampires was wrong. Knowing that sex didn’t equal blood loss took away a ton of my reservations about dreaming of more with James.

  James looked at the clock on the dining room wall and pushed his chair back. “I’d better get you back soon so you have time to change before you have to meet your parents.”

  “Yes, I would like to clean up a bit.” It was strange how unselfconscious I was with him. I felt at home here with him. Whoa, too fast. Well, either way, it was good to be comfortable with him since we were still going to have to work together for the next few weeks at least. After that, I wasn’t sure how things would end.

  Ch. 17

  My parents and I had agreed to meet at Grandma’s Restaurant down at Seven Corners, a trendy part of town off campus. It was usually pretty slow on a Saturday in the late afternoon. Part of the reason that I picked such a public place was my parents’ adversity to public displays of affection. I was ready to test my shielding, but I didn’t want to hit it with a battering ram.

  My parents were notoriously early, so I made certain that I was there a full fifteen minutes early. Sure enough, they beat me there.

  Mom was first, squealing as she ran up with her arms held high coming in for the hug. I was unusually happy to see her as well. Our hug with limited shockwaves gave me an extra surge of joy and I even hugged back. Mom rocked back, shock registering on her face. Shrugging it off, I joked, “Can’t I be excited to see you?” Dad was next, predictably more subdued. We were seated quickly due to the lack of customers at this hour, so no more hugs before lunch. They were eager to hear how college was treating me.

 

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