Blood Rites (38 page)

—Kiss me.—

He had to move up to reach her face. Her body was slippery with blood and his weakness made it impossible for him to grip her and pull himself higher. He tried once and his wound opened. His soft whimpering echoed from the walls like the ghosts of those who died here before him. He choked the sound back and, in spite of the pain, drew his knees to his chest and pushed, balancing his entire weight on top of her as his lips touched hers.

She apologized as she kissed him, then stole his pain and willed him to sleep. His head lolled backward and with effort she raised hers and tore at his neck until what remained of his blood began to flow.

When life had ended and he lay dead and cooling above her, she continued to drink, trying to fill her body’s relentless demands.

I

On the way back to the hotel, Dick stopped for takeout from a Chinese restaurant. Later, after he’d showered off the day’s stickiness, he stretched out on one bed eating alternately from the containers of rice and chop suey. Stephen sat cross-legged on the other, sipping a glass of the salty Tarda water the family imported from their homeland. He had placed the bottle on the bedside table for he planned to be awake and talking throughout the night.

Their conversation seemed dark to Stephen, filled with memories of his victims and friends as his mind brushed past the cause of each death to describe the moments, those glorious moments when, for an instant, the darkness parted to admit each desperate soul, giving him a brief glimpse of that other eternity.

“And then you turn away?” Dick asked.

“If we seek death, we find her, Richard. We even tell our children a variant on the story of Lot’s wife, turned into a pillar of salt because she
saw
too much. We don’t really have to warn them; their instinct serves them just as well.”

“Show me what you can of it. Please.”

Stephen reached out and grasped Dick’s wrist, wincing as he saw Dick flinch. “I’m sorry,” Dick said. “Old fears are the hardest to overcome.”

“I understand. Close your eyes, Richard. Try to let me in your mind.”

It began with a tickle like a faint breeze. As the breeze grew, more of his senses were blown away until all that was left of his body and this room was the warmth of Stephen’s hand on his wrist, the comforting presence of Stephen’s mind supporting him. No sooner had he grown accustomed to the emptiness surrounding him than some unseen force grabbed him, pulling him down into a darkness so thick it pressed against him. He began to struggle, righting to breathe, and felt the hand holding him tighten.

—Is this where you bring your victims, Stephen?—

—Yes, but they find no solace in me, Richard. My friends do.—

A pause, how long Dick could not determine, and his consciousness was rocked as if by a wave or gust of wind. A grey line cut the darkness of this strange silent world and dawn rose to meet him. A flash of brilliant white rolled across the emptiness and over him. Had his eyes seen this, he would be blind now, rejoicing forever in the rapture of his last moment of vision. But only his soul saw, only his soul responded with a great rush of joy. He wanted to run after this force and merge with it forever but another’s will held him back, wrenching him away, retreating into the darkness that faded and faded into the dim light and grey shadows of their room.

He thought he’d been asleep for a few minutes, an hour at most. Six had passed.

He looked down at his wrist, saw dark bruises on it, and knew that he had struggled to die with the same passion he had always devoted to life. Stephen had his eyes closed, surrendering to the lethargy of the dawn. Though he knew he should also sleep, Dick lay awake a long time, sorting through the questions that came to him.

When Dick woke later that morning, Stephen still lay in the same position Dick had seen him in last, his breathing so slow and shallow that untrained eyes would mistake him for dead. Deciding he might as well get some breakfast, Dick changed into a clean shirt and took the car keys from Stephen’s jacket. Before leaving, he carefully lifted one blind to scan the parking lot and saw two men sitting in a car at the edge of the drive where they could view both exits and Stephen’s car.

Though he knew Carrera’s men were only watching him, the weight of the revolver and the press of the holster against his shoulder and chest were familiar and comforting, a reminder of his position and his mission here.

A maid knocked on a door farther down the hall. Dick called her down and gave her two dollars for breakfast from the next door coffee shop and promised her another three when she returned. She must have assumed she was supplying Stephen as well because she returned with plates of eggs and potatoes, six slices of toast, and a thermos of coffee. Though Dick had intended to eat a light meal, the smell of fresh coffee made him realize he was famished. He’d just started in on the third slice of toast when Stephen opened his eyes and rolled up on an elbow.

“We’ve got company outside,” Dick commented.

Stephen’s eyes briefly unfocused, then returned to the room. “They’ve been out there all night. They’ll be sound asleep when we leave. I’ll see to it.”

“Coffee?” Dick asked, thinking of Stephen’s order in the terminal restaurant.

“Only when I must,” Stephen responded and poured a glass of his cloudy water, finishing the second of the three bottles he’d brought with him. “You have questions about last night, yes?”

“Questions! I don’t know where to start! One thing I can’t understand is how you can go so close and not want to see what lies beyond that brightness.”

“Death is there, Richard. Our instincts do not allow us to see her clearly.”

“But all you have to do is just go forward.”

“Believe me, Richard. If death were a simple act of will, my brother would not have needed our help so desperately.‘’

“I suppose we each have our own eternity,” Dick commented, the hint of an unvoiced question in his tone.

Mysteries such as God or even the origins of his own people were difficult for Stephen to contemplate. Unlike man who had to come to terms with personal death, Stephen didn’t need belief in God or an afterlife to sustain him. However, he did respond with the one piece of faith centuries had forced him to admit, “I have felt souls, Richard. I know they exist. I know they survive. But my people and yours are so much alike that I do not think man was born to die.”

“You said it: the soul survives,” Dick responded, surprised by the surety in his tone.

“I am not speaking of the soul, Richard.”

“Who knows, maybe in a hundred years or so some genius will figure out how to keep our bodies young forever.‘’ Dick smiled wistfully at the thought, then added a more realistic observation, ”Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to live with the crowd.“ He reached for another slice of toast.

“Save some of that, Richard. You’ll be famished again in a few hours.”

“It’s time?”

“Soon.”

“Have you done this before?” The question seemed ludicrous. In all those years, of course he had.

Stephen looked at the carpet, his face scarred by an old memory. “Only once.”

“Once? Can you tell me about it.”

Stephen did not look up. His mind focused on a world long gone as he began. “The boy’s name was Ion . . .” He told the story woodenly, as if even after so many centuries, he was afraid to admit what he had felt. “In the end, I rushed down the mountain passes, through the drifts on the plains below, but I could not outrun his agony. My father was deliberately savage. I could tell you everything he did to Ion but none of it was important except how I felt his death. The part of me in him died too. A place of myself was missing.” He met Richard’s eyes, his face resigned, remote. “It still is.”

Dick felt Stephen’s mind touching his, the necessary tie between them beginning to form. “Listen, if I’m still alive tomorrow what happens to this bond?” he asked.

“It will remain for as long as you live. And I will be unable to go to a family blood sharing until after you die.”

Not giving up much, are you
? Dick thought, forgetting for a moment their growing mental rapport. He felt a response—irritation? anger?—and added vocally, “Even if it was only Patrick that they had and even if I were not to blame, I would still do this.”

“And even if it were just Alan, I would do this. We’re one family, Richard. We made that agreement years ago.

“A final warning, Richard. I understand how you feel about the attraction I cannot help but exude. Over the years we’ve been friends, I’ve kept a physical and mental distance from you. I can’t do that now. I will merge with you as tightly as I would with one of my own and I will not allow you to change your mind or to hold any of yourself back. You understand, yes?”

“Yeah. You do what you have to do.” Dick hesitated a moment, then, pleased that he would have so little time to reconsider the agreement, added, “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just get it over with.” He closed his eyes and tried to pull all the conflicting emotions together. He’d rather face Carrera and whatever horrible death was planned for him than this—this potent reminder of an old nightmare.

“Look at me, Richard. You’ve known me long enough to trust me, yes?”

“I’m sorry.” With effort, Dick stared at Stephen, allowing his self to be trapped by the will of his friend. Without moving his eyes from Stephen’s face, he took off his cuff links and laid them on the table between the beds, then rolled up his sleeves. His hands moved to the button on his collar but he lowered them without touching it.
Please
, he thought,
not there; touch me somewhere less intimate, somewhere Charles had never touched
.

Stephen was surprised to see tears in Richard’s eyes, a sign that his friend had never recovered from the hours of torment that his brother had inflicted on him. That Richard had somehow managed to bury his loathing and remain friends with Stephen was a sign of the justice in this man—and their shared ties. Stephen felt strengthened by the understanding. Ties were of the utmost importance now. Neither wanted anyone to threaten their family again.

As Stephen’s mind moved through Richard, he sensed him fighting the invasion. If Stephen hadn’t been so desperate, he would have abandoned his efforts but they had so little time. He rejected the idea of numbing Richard completely. He had to be awake and the taking volitional for the bond to form completely. Richard trusted him. Perhaps trust—a pale emotion compared to so many others—would be enough.

He touched that, only that, and felt Richard’s complete confidence in him as if Stephen were far more powerful than he actually was. Richard expected a miracle. Stephen merely assumed that he could not fail. Enough, he decided. It would be enough. He knelt on the floor in front of Richard and lowered his head so that, for a moment, Richard could not see his face. With one rear fang, he made a deep cut across his wrist and held it out to his friend.

Like those games little boys play with razor blades and thumbs
, Dick thought, seeking reassurance in the familiar as he looked at the cut on Stephen’s wrist, the blood welling in bright beads that flowed together and dropped slowly down his outstretched arm.

He hid from his panic, a fear that was, after all, only a memory, and reached for what was offered.

The bond already so tight pulled at Dick. He felt the spark of attraction flare into desire for what was offered, for the creature offering it, for the eternity he could never have.

He thought of Charles Austra, he could not help but think of him now. That thing in Charles Austra that had wanted to die, that had all its will directed to that end, had been no more able to accomplish it than Richard could cheat the end coming for him.

For the first time he knew exactly how Charles must have felt and he pitied Charles and himself. Since the doctor’s verdict, he had not displayed any emotion save anger. He did now.

He cried.

—Richard?—

He felt Stephen pulling him closer, and his own lips, pressed to the wound, sucked harder, a demanding child seeking life.

It coursed in him, a rush of warmth and enduring passion! As he surrendered completely to it, Stephen lowered his head to the back of Richard’s neck and began to drink, completing the circle of give and take.

Dick felt himself weightless as if his body were no longer a part of this act. As he lost all sense of time or place, even the simple constants of up and down blurred. He knew where he was from moment to moment only, then forgot, as the nightmare from his past, in so many ways so similar to this, was also forgotten.

Hours after they began, the phone rang. Though they knew it must be the desk giving them their arranged call, they did not move to answer it.

When they broke, Dick considered life the way he did God—Eternal. Now.

And it went on forever.

II

As he fixed his shirt and slipped on the jacket, Dick noticed the way the different fabrics rubbed against his skin and detected the lingering welcome scent of Judy’s perfume. Stephen sat cross-legged on the other bed, appearing more subdued than he had been since this ordeal began. “Do you need anything before we go?” Dick asked.

It took several seconds before Stephen responded with a slow shake of his head. Surprised to discover that he was hungry, Dick turned his attention to the remnants of breakfast. Though the toast had long ago become dry, the butter greasy, Dick spread a thick layer of jam on it and ate it in slow, careful bites. He thought he’d never tasted anything quite so interesting before.

The unique pleasure of these simple things had nothing to do with imminent death. Rather, he perceived the world through two minds. It had a sharp new clarity but a distorted focus, as if life were presented in 3-D and he had forgotten to bring his glasses.

The feeling didn’t diminish as Stephen drove into town. Instead it intensified. The smell of the exhaust fumes from the cars around them made Dick faintly queasy, the drivers all seemed to be whispering to him. If Stephen concentrated, Dick would hear their thoughts but Stephen ignored them as he usually did, instead focusing on the ordeal to come. Dick wanted to do the same but everything seemed so wonderfully distracting. Even through his dark glasses, the green lawns, the flower beds, the sky, and the glimpses of the lake revealed nuances of color he’d never seen before. The road stretched forward, an iridescent ribbon of vibrating light and heat. Everything had become new and incredibly alive. No matter what happened today, he would enjoy these moments and he yielded to their strange magic until they reached town.