Read Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) Online
Authors: Lynda Hilburn
Thoughts pinged across my mind like the metal ball in an old pinball game. I tried to see another way out, but there wasn’t one. Nobody, including me, believed I had a prayer of surviving Lucifer’s fixation without help. Devereux’s help. I met Zephyr’s eyes, then grasped the cup and brought it close enough to see the contents. The cup was half-full of dark liquid.
I looked up at Zephyr again, my lips already pursing in anticipation of the thick, coppery taste. “Really?”
He nudged the cup to my mouth. “Really.”
I closed my eyes, held my breath, and slammed the blood. The taste was as unpleasant as I remembered from the ritual. As soon as I swallowed, my entire body began to tingle, and I experienced a burst of energy—my exhaustion suddenly becoming a vague memory.
He took the cup from my hand, and it disappeared. “Good. Now I will return you to your world. Come.” He rose and guided me up from the chair. I barely stood before the air blew against my face and we were once again in my hotel room.
I quickly looked over at the bed to see if Alan was still there. He was. And the clock showed the same time it had before I left. Still feeling remarkably energized, I smiled at Zephyr. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”
He took a step back.
“Can I call on you if I have questions or if something else weird happens?”
“Absolutely not.”
“No? Why not? What would be the harm?”
“As I said before, we rarely intervene in human affairs. Had there not been a benefit to vampires, we would never have contacted you. You must figure out the rest yourself.” He bowed again, then held up his index finger. “Do not forget to practice the sound magic. Without it, there will always be a weakness in your boundaries.”
And he was gone.
Unsettled, I went to the window and stared out at Central Park. I’d just turned and bent to remove my shoes when the woman in the red nightgown ran through me. I gasped at the freaky sensation, surprised again that a ghost had touched me physically. “Help me! You’ve got to help me! I don’t want to die!” Startled by the sound and forgetting for a second that it was an illusion, I covered my head with my hands to protect it from the shattered glass as the apparition leaped out into the night.
Not only had she touched me, she’d talked to me. That was new and definitely unwanted. Obviously the elders’ blood had kicked in already
and opened me to expanded madness.
In the sudden silence afterward, I laughed, sounding crazy to myself.
Well, what else is new?
I shuffled over to the bed, climbed in without taking my clothes off, and listened to Alan’s snores for a few seconds before I sank into oblivion, dead to the world.
The phone ringing jolted me into wakefulness, and I grabbed the handset and mumbled, “Hello?”
Someone breathed for a few seconds, then hung up.
“Great. My morning pervert wake-up call.”
Alan snorted, then rolled over, and went back to sleep.
I replaced the phone and sat up, waiting for the expected hangover to wrestle me down. There was no getting around the fact that I’d drunk a disgustingly unhealthy amount of wine last night, and by rights I should feel terrible.
But I didn’t. In fact, I felt great. Thanks to Zephyr and the blood.
Oh, hell. The blood.
I didn’t want to think about the blood, so I shifted my focus and stared at my bed companion, trying to sort out all the different feelings I had about him and our almost-sexual encounter. I had to admit I’d been relieved by not having to make the decision. I guess I just wasn’t ready emotionally to let go of Devereux yet. I tugged the sheet up over Alan’s arm.
Was I attracted to him? Absolutely. Did I love him? Apparently. I stroked a finger through his hair. Was it the same kind of love I felt for Devereux? I didn’t know how to answer that. Love was different in every relationship, wasn’t it? That’s what I told my clients.
Being with Alan was comfortable and fun. He made me laugh, and we had so much in common—plus he knew about the vampires and all that entailed. If he ever decided to become less of a workaholic and settle down with one woman, I could do a lot worse than share my life with him. At least he didn’t try to control me, and he wasn’t hazardous to my mental health.
And there was no way for me to be sure how much of my former lust for Devereux had been due to his influence on my brain versus authentic emotions. What would happen now that Zephyr had given me the elders’ blood to drink and told me the hum would keep my brain safe and less readable? Did I want to find out what was real between Devereux and me?
The flutter in my stomach said yes.
But it didn’t matter what I wanted. Devereux and I had broken things off, and then he’d found me with Alan and leaped to all the wrong conclusions. I didn’t expect him to show up anytime soon. Besides, he had no idea I’d discovered a way to protect myself, and he was in denial about his effect on my brain anyway.
Once again, everything had changed. My life felt like an unsolvable puzzle. Or a mass of tangled Christmas lights.
A heavy sadness settled in, and my eyes teared.
Light snow was falling. The overcast day was cold enough to etch frost around the edges of the glass. I eased out of bed and padded over to the window, appreciating the early-morning stillness and glad the woman in the red nightgown had taken a break.
Her expanded manifestation last night after I drank the foul blood concoction had been an unpleasant surprise. In fact, now that I thought about it, my reawakened ability to see ghosts hadn’t really been fully revived until after I drank the blood at that ritual last October. Great. If things kept going the way they were, I’d be able to give James Van Praagh and John Edward a run for their money. I didn’t
want
to see dead
people.
I turned and strode toward the bathroom to shower and dress. A newspaper had been shoved under the door, and I picked it up, noting the date. Friday. The day for my vampire-wannabe presentation to my peers at four p.m. My heart tripped. Even though nothing unexpected had occurred with my colleagues, I was still anxious about their reaction to my lecture. I hoped I could find a way to make an academic paper on bloodsuckers sound professional.
When I tossed the newspaper on the foot of the bed, something white floated out and landed on the floor. A quarter-sheet of copy paper. I bent to retrieve it and read the message printed in large type:
You aren’t fooling anyone. I’ll expose you. Wait and see.
It was unsigned.
What
now
? Fooling about what? The paper must have become stuck to the newspaper and gone to the wrong room. Or it was just a stupid joke.
I flung the note onto the bed, dashed into the bathroom, and closed the door.
After I finished my shower and got dressed, I walked back into the main area to find Alan talking on his cell, watching television. He gave a thumbs-up to my black silk pantsuit, then pointed to a table holding a carafe of coffee and cups. He must have called room service.
“That’s horrible news. I’m sorry to hear it. Thanks for contacting me. What? No. I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back. I’ll let you know as soon as I can. Yeah. Thanks, Detective. Me, too.” He disconnected.
I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him. “What?”
“Fuck.” He sighed and let his head drop back against the headboard. “That was Detective Andrews from San Francisco. There’s been another murder.”
“No! Another therapist?” Was anyone ever going to be able to end Lucifer’s killing spree?
“That makes eight therapists.”
“Another dark-haired woman?”
“Yes. Andrews said the governor is demanding they hold a press conference and release all the details later today. It’s really going to hit the fan.”
Holy shit!
I didn’t know any therapists working in San Francisco, but regardless they were colleagues—colleagues who looked like me—who’d been murdered by a supernatural monster. They were symbolic representations of me! How was I supposed to live with that?
“Are you going back there?” Even though I was ambivalent about us, the idea of Alan returning to the ass-kicking detective made me itchy.
He must have heard something in my voice. “No. There’s no reason to—I already know who the bloody perp is, but I can’t tell them. I’m better off here playing bodyguard to the monster’s obsession.” He gave a wicked grin. “Love the jealousy, though. Nice boost to the old Stevens ego.”
I didn’t bother insisting I wasn’t jealous. I had no idea what I was, so I just glared at him for a few seconds. “I met Zephyr last night.”
“What?” He jerked the cup he was raising to his lips, splashing coffee down his chest. “Damn! That’s hot.” He grabbed some tissues from a box on the nightstand. “You met Zephyr? Where was I?” He sipped from the cup then set it down.
I rose and fetched a cup for myself before answering. “He popped in after you went to sleep, and he did something to you so you wouldn’t wake up until this morning.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I can’t tell you how tired I am of being
managed
by vampires. Devereux merely flicks a finger at me, and I’m out of commission on the floor, then Zephyr renders me unconscious while he absconds with my roommate. You must think I’m one useless son of a bitch.” He scowled.
It really was difficult to win pissing contests with vampires.
“I don’t blame you for being angry—I’d feel the same way—but you know it’s impossible for a human to have an equal playing field with a vampire. I’m actually grateful you finally understand what it’s like to be a pawn on their undead chessboard. It really sucks.”
He picked up his cup again. “Yeah, I know. Did you see the library? Tell me everything.”
And I did, while he listened with his mouth open.
When I finished talking, he remained silent for a minute, then bolted off the bed and paced, butt-naked. “Holy fucking cow. I can’t believe it.” He combed his fingers through his hair while he roamed around the room. “Every time I think I’ve got a grip on the basic level of weirdness we humans haven’t been privy to, the floor drops out from beneath my feet and I’m free-falling again.” He plopped down on the edge of the bed next to me.
Good thing my cup was empty or I’d have been covered in coffee. I tried to keep my eyes on his face. Apparently, when Alan got excited, all of him got excited.
“Okay, so there’s a motherfucker of a secret place under the mountains in the Andes filled with a mind-blowing array of artifacts, buildings, et cetera. Zephyr told you about an old group of vampires called the elders, which includes Dracul.” He slapped his hands on his thighs, causing what was now an impressive erection to bob in his lap. “Shit! Dracula! The real article! And he hit on you! Wow! I wish I could have just five minutes with him. I have so many questions.”
“Yeah.” I stood and walked to the couch under the window, shifting my field of vision. “He borrowed Zephyr’s über-ability to control minds and he made me lust after him. I actually remember thinking it would be a good idea to roll around on the floor of the cavern with him before Zephyr snapped me out of it. You’d better be careful what you wish for. I got the sense that Dracul’s sexuality is pretty flexible.”
Alan followed me over to the couch and stood in front of me, hands on hips, legs apart, proudly posed like a nude un-Caped Crusader, totally oblivious to what he’d centered in my line of sight. He grinned. “Damn! And then you drank their blood. Holy hell!”
As enticing as his equipment was, I just wasn’t in a frisky mood. “Alan?”
“Yeah?” He continued shaking his head, now staring out through the window.
“Would you mind putting your pants on?”
“What?”
I pointed to his crotch and he looked down, then he burst into laughter. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
His grin changed from friendly to wicked. “But since we’re all up and in a hotel room, why don’t we—?” He leaned down and kissed me.
As much as I wished I could be distracted from the crazy events of the night before, even Alan’s charms couldn’t divert me from the confusion or my fears about my upcoming presentation. I broke the kiss. “Can I have a rain check? I’m not really in the mood right now.”
He stepped back and examined my face. “Sure. I’m sorry—I guess that was pretty insensitive of me. I wasn’t thinking about how everything must have affected you.” He moved to the other side of the bed where he’d kicked his discarded shorts and pants and stepped into them. Then he returned to the couch, sat next to me, and patted my hand. “So, do you feel any different after drinking that supercharged blood?”
“A little. I guess my engine is revving at a slightly higher RPM, and my hangover is gone. He said I might experience more supernatural crap, and my abilities could be heightened.”
“Just what you wanted, eh?”
I slumped into the couch cushions. “Yeah.”
“And Dracul is the reason Lucifer is off his rocker?”
“Uh-huh. Dracul is totally demented, and the acorn hasn’t fallen far from the tree. He talked about wanting vampires to be the top predators again and became very upset about it. His energy grew fangs. I definitely had the psychic sense that he’s very screwed up. But I do appreciate knowing that Lucifer is fixated on me because I remind him of his wife—or Brother Luther’s wife. That explains a lot. The answer is much more psychological than metaphysical. More … normal.”
“Have you considered how insane you’d’ve gone if you kept hanging out with powerful vampires without protecting your brain? Maybe you’d wind up a female Renfield. Or a Lucifer.”
“Thanks for mentioning that horrifying possibility. I hadn’t gotten quite that far in my speculations. What a pal.”
We sat without speaking for a few minutes, then he stood. “I guess I’ll go back to my room and shower. I have to meet with the NYPD and call San Francisco. What are you going to do all day until your lecture?”
“There are lots of workshops I want to attend and I’m meeting my former thesis advisor for coffee. Are you coming to the presentation?” It would be good to have a friendly face in the audience.