Dead Perfect (23 page)

She called one to her, waited while a small brown horse trotted toward her. Slipping between the fence rails, Shannah put her arm around the horse’s neck.

“I can do this,” she said, and with tears of pain and revulsion coursing down her cheeks, she bit into the horse’s jugular and satisfied her hunger. The horse didn’t seem to mind. Oddly enough, neither did she.

With the hunger assuaged, she felt content, almost joyful. Quiet power thrummed through her veins. She had never felt better in her life.

Later, at a loss as to what to do to fill the long, lonely hours until dawn, she tried to transport herself across the road, but no matter how hard she concentrated or thought about what she wanted to do, nothing happened. How had Ronan managed it? Maybe zapping from one place to another was something only older vampires could achieve.

Walking back toward the city where she had spent the previous night, it occurred to her that she had no cash and no credit cards. She needed her wallet and a change of clothes. And a shower, she thought, wrinkling her nose. And then she laughed. Of course she smelled. She had been in these same clothes since she died. How long ago had it been? Two nights? Three? She couldn’t seem to think straight.

She had almost reached the warehouse when she heard Ronan’s voice whisper through her mind.

Shannah, my love, please come home.

The sound of his voice brought hot tears to her eyes. Ronan. In spite of what he had done, she missed him dreadfully. But she couldn’t forget how he had betrayed her trust. She could never, ever forgive him for what he had done.

Shannah, are you all right?

She was back in the city now, her senses again flooded with sights and sounds and the scents of those around her. How did Ronan keep from going mad with so much sensory input screaming in his mind?

With a little practice, you can block it all out, love.

She refused to answer. Doing her best to ignore him, she gazed in the shop windows as she passed by, admiring a pretty blue sweater, a black velvet dress, a pair of silver high heels. She felt a sudden lurch in the pit of her stomach when she realized she cast no reflection in the glass. Sickened by the reminder of what she had become, she turned her face away from the shop windows.

Shannah? Answer me, dammit!

She pressed her hands over her ears.
Get out of my head!

His soft laughter filled her mind.
Come home, Shannah, let me help you.

Home…the very word spoke of solace and belonging. Clinging to her anger, she thrust the thought from her mind.
You’ve done enough, thank you very much! Now go away and leave me alone!

I miss you.

Just three small words, but they were filled with love and longing. She swallowed past the lump rising in her throat, then shook her head defiantly. She would not be swayed by the soft yearning in his voice or by the sadness in his words. She had trusted him with her heart and soul, with her very life, and he had betrayed her.

I can feel your confusion, love. Please come home. Let me answer your questions. Let me help you learn how to use and control the powers that are now yours.

It was tempting, oh, so tempting. To see him again, to be in his arms and see his smile, taste his kisses…No! With a resolute shake of her head, she continued on down the street. If, as he said, she could block out unwanted sights and sounds, then she could shut him out, too!

You’ll have to come back sooner or later,
he said, his voice quiet in her mind.
Your belongings are here.

Drat the man! He was right.

And you belong here, with me.

No, but I do need to come back to
your
house to gather my things.
She emphasized “your.”
If you care for me at all, you won’t be there when I return.

She felt the pain her words caused him as if it were her own. In her mind’s eye, she could see him standing in front of the fireplace in the living room, his hands braced against the mantel, his head bowed, his eyes dark with anguish and regret. She hardened her heart against him, refusing to feel pity or sorrow. He had stolen her mortality, stolen the sun’s light from her, turned her into an inhuman monster condemned to exist by partaking of the blood of living beings. She ignored the voice in her head that reminded her that she hadn’t wanted to die, that she had gone to his house hoping to find a vampire who could give her immortality. And now she had it.
Be careful what you ask for
, her mother had always said,
lest you get it
. Well, she had asked for it, but she had never expected to find it, nor had she truly wanted to be a vampire. If she was lucky, she might exist for hundreds of years, as Ronan and some of his friends had, but no matter how long she existed, she would die anew each time the sun went down.

It was a frightening thing, tumbling uncontrollably into that abyss that was darker than dark. Last night, hiding in the creaky bowels of the deserted warehouse, she had sensed the blackness creeping up on her, felt herself being dragged down into oblivion. She had fought against it but to no avail. She had told herself there was nothing to fear, that it was normal for her now, but she couldn’t stave off the panic that had swept over her as she felt herself sinking into a pool of darkness as deep and wide as eternity. Trapped in oblivion, she had felt nothing at all until the sun went down and she woke from a long and dreamless sleep.

Shannah…

I’d like to come for my things tonight, if that’s convenient for you
.

Very well, love.

Love. The word slipped past her defenses and arrowed straight into her heart. She remembered the night she had asked him if she was truly his love. “
Do you doubt it
?” he had asked, and when she reminded him that he had never said it, he had replied, “No, I never have. I’ve never said it to any woman, but I love you, Shannah, more than you can imagine.”

She thrust the memory away. If he had truly loved her, he would have respected her wishes.

I’ll be gone when you get here. Stay the night, if you wish.

Where will you spend the night?

Don’t worry about me, I’ll find a place.

Thank you.

There was a long silence and then his voice whispered ever so softly and sweetly through her mind again.
I love you
.

Ronan’s house was empty, as he had promised, when Shannah arrived later that night. She stood in the middle of the living room, her mind filling with memories of Ronan. His scent was here, so strong in her nostrils that she glanced over her shoulder to see if he had suddenly appeared in the room.

She looked around, somehow expecting to find the house to be as changed as she was. Had it only been two nights ago that her entire life had turned upside down? It seemed an eternity had passed since then. When she had first come here, she had been deathly ill, weak, and afraid. Now, only a few short months later, she was healthy and whole, with the strength of ten mortal women, but she was still afraid. Afraid of what she had become, afraid of the future. How was she to survive? Where would she live? Eternity stretched before her, filled with eons of loneliness and separation from the rest of mankind. Why would anyone want such an existence?

Knowing she couldn’t stay here, she wandered through the house, remembering how she had come here that first day, looking for a vampire. Well, not only had she found one, she had become one! She wondered again what her parents would think if they knew. Would they still love her, or would they turn away from her in horror and revulsion? And what of Judy and her other friends back home? Would they notice the difference in her? If she hadn’t seen the proof with her own eyes, she would never have guessed that Ronan was a vampire, although now that she knew what he was, it seemed obvious in so many ways.

Climbing the stairs, she went into the bedroom. Pulling her underwear from the dresser, she piled it on top of the bed, thinking that all the beautiful clothing and nightgowns that Ronan had bought for her would never fit in the one suitcase that she owned.

She paused in the act of folding one of her nightgowns. She had no right to take the things he had bought for her…she was no longer pretending to be Eva Black, no longer living under his roof, no longer in his employ. Nothing in the house belonged to her. Even the suitcase she had taken from the closet was his.

Everything is yours, love. I bought it all for you.
She heard his voice in her mind, saw him smile wistfully as he added,
Anyway, the dresses aren’t my size.

His wry comment made her smile and then, suddenly, she was crying. Sinking down on the bed, she cried for the life she had lost, cried because the man she loved had betrayed her trust and thrust her into a new world that was strange and scary. She cried because she would never marry and have children and grandchildren, never be able to go to the beach and work on her tan. She would never be able to sit and enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner with her family again, or open presents on Christmas morning. Never drink hot chocolate on a cold winter night, never again eat ice cream or drink a thick chocolate malt, or gobble down a double cheeseburger and fries. She refused to listen to the small voice of her conscience that reminded her that in a week or a month, death would have put an end to those things as surely as did her new lifestyle.

She blew out a sigh. So many things she had taken for granted that were forever lost to her.

But there is so much to learn, love. So much to see and explore. A whole new world is out there, waiting for you.

She sniffed back her tears.
I’ll find it on my own, thank you.

Shannah, don’t let your anger keep us apart, not now. I’m not asking you to forgive me, only to let me help you until you’re ready to be on your own. You don’t have any place to go. Stay in the house. Sleep in my lair, if it pleases you, or make one of your own.

I can’t stay here.
She dried her tears on a corner of the bedspread.
Where will you stay?

You needn’t worry about me. Please, love, keep the house. I’ve taken everything else from you. Let me give you something in return.

I don’t think…

Shannah.
His voice was stern now, a loving father speaking to a stubborn and rebellious child.
Keep the clothes. Keep the damn house. I don’t want it anymore.

Why not?

It was only a home when you shared it with me. Now it’s just a house. I’ll find a new lair.

She didn’t want to take anything from him, but he was right. She had no place else to stay except that smelly old warehouse, and that wasn’t as safe as his basement lair. And she had grown to love the house…And darn it, he did owe her something for what he had done.

I’ll stay, for a little while,
she said.
Thank you.

Will you let me help you?

She wanted to say no. She didn’t want his help. She never wanted to see him again. She was being childish, and she knew it. And, darn him, he was right again. He could make her transition from mortal to vampire so much easier.

Shannah?

All right.

Just say when.

Whenever it’s convenient for you.

Tonight?
She heard the underlying note of longing in his voice.

No
. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hurrying right over, didn’t want him to think she was anxious to see him or worse, that she missed him.
Tomorrow night will be soon enough.

All right, Shannah. Have it your way.

She started to answer him, but knew it was useless. He had withdrawn from her mind and closed the door behind him. She tried to slip past his defenses, but he was blocking her thoughts.

She was surprised by how much it hurt to know he was blocking her. She tried not to think of him while she put her underwear and nightgowns back in the dresser, or while she filled the tub with water, or while she relaxed in a hot bubble bath, but it was impossible. She should have known it would be impossible to forget him as long as she stayed here, in his house. It was here that he had sheltered her and cared for her when she was sick, here that he had kissed her. Her toes curled with the memory of his kisses. No mere joining of lips had ever been as tumultuous, as arousing, or as satisfying.

She lifted a hand to her neck. The skin tingled where he had bitten her. Somehow, the thought that he had taken her blood wasn’t as repulsive as it had been a few days ago.

And she had taken his. Why didn’t the idea disgust her the way it once had? She felt her hunger stir to life at the memory, felt her fangs brush her tongue. Why did she suddenly find herself wanting to taste him again?

“Why, indeed?” she muttered wryly. “Does the word ‘vampire’ ring a bell?”

Like it or not, her life had changed, she had changed. And she knew it was only the beginning.

She stayed in the tub until the water grew cool. Putting on her nightgown and robe, she went downstairs, plucked one of Ronan’s books from the shelf, and curled up on the sofa to read.

So, Shannah thought, that was how it was done. That was how she had become a vampire. It wasn’t the vampire’s bite that made the transformation. He had drained her of blood, taken her to the point of death, and then poured his life into her.

Interesting, she thought, and turned the page.

She dressed with care the following night, choosing a pair of silky black slacks and a dark blue sweater. She brushed her hair until it crackled, spritzed herself with perfume, then looked in the mirror to apply her makeup. She could see the shower behind her, the towels on the rack, the door into the bedroom, and nothing else. How could she have forgotten that she would never see her reflection in a mirror again? It was as if she had been wiped from existence and memory. Shannah was gone and what remained was an abomination.

She stared at the mirror for a long time, her stomach in knots.

It was true. She was a vampire. She had known it before, of course, there was no longer any denying it, but it was suddenly a cold, hard fact, one she felt in the deepest part of her being.

Vampire.

Undead.

She remembered reading somewhere—had it been in one of Ronan’s books?—that vampires cast no reflection because they had no soul. Could that be true? Had she lost her soul as well as her humanity?

She felt different, inside and out, there was no doubt of that, but she wasn’t a soulless monster, was she? She was still Shannah.

Wasn’t she?

Her makeup forgotten, she went downstairs to wait for Ronan.

Ronan paused outside the front door of the house where he had lived for the past seventy years. He hadn’t had a case of nerves like this in over five centuries. How could he bear the hatred he was sure to see in her eyes? Maybe he was making a mistake. He’d had no one to ease his way into his preternatural life. He had learned what he needed to know to survive as a vampire on his own. No doubt Shannah could do the same. But he could not abandon Shannah as Rosalyn had so callously abandoned him.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Moments later, Shannah stood before him, looking more lovely than he had ever seen her.

“Come in,” she said, her voice cool, aloof.

He followed her into the living room, sat where she indicated.

A taut silence stretched between them.

“You must have questions,” he said at last.

“Have I lost my soul, Ronan? Am I damned now?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I looked in a mirror. There was no one there.”

It was a frightening experience. He remembered the first time it had happened to him, the sick feeling in his gut, the sense of loss.

“Am I damned, Ronan?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “But I don’t think so. What have you done to deserve damnation? You didn’t ask to be a vampire. If anyone is damned, it’s me.”

For all that she hated him for what he had done, the thought of his being forever damned distressed her more than it should have.

“Questions,” he repeated. “You must have others.”

“What? Oh, yes, but I don’t know where to start.”

“As you already know, your sense of sight and hearing are vastly increased. This holds true for all of your senses. You have many powers,” he went on. “Some of them you’re already aware of. Others will come to you in time. Some of them, like dissolving into mist, seem impossible or unbelievable, but you can master them all, with practice. You can move so fast as to be virtually invisible to mortal eyes. You can change your shape…”

“What do you mean?”

“You can assume the shape of animals.”

“Like a bat?” she asked, remembering all the old Dracula movies she had seen.

“A bat?” he asked, obviously amused. “Why would you want to be a bat?”

“I don’t know. In the movies…”

“Ah, the movies. I don’t know if you can turn into a bat. I’ve never tried. Much easier to turn into something larger, like a wolf. As I was saying, you have many supernatural abilities. You can climb up the side of buildings as easily as a spider, call people to you, mesmerize them with a look, wipe your memory from their minds. If you get hurt, you will heal almost immediately. Few things, save the sun or pure silver, can do you serious harm.”

“What about garlic and being unable to enter a church, and stuff like that?”

He shook his head. “Stoker and the Hollywood crowd are responsible for all that nonsense.”

“And a stake through the heart?”

“That will destroy you as surely as the sun.”

She regarded him a moment. “I want to see you dissolve into mist.”

He nodded and then, almost before she could blink, he was gone and in his place there was a shimmering mist of silver-gray motes. She felt her heart skip a beat as the mist moved over her until it surrounded her. Warmth engulfed her and with it, a feeling of pure love. She felt bereft when it floated away, then hovered in the center of the room.

A moment later, Ronan stood before her again.

“Unbelievable is right,” she murmured. “But how do you do it?”

“Mind over matter, that’s all it is. You think it, believe it, do it.”

Closing her eyes, Shannah pictured herself turning into a mist of pale pink motes. At first, she felt nothing and then, abruptly, she felt lighter than air. Looking down, she saw that her body had disappeared and that she was hovering in the air over her chair. She could see and hear, but everything seemed hazy and far away. She willed herself toward Ronan, let herself brush against him. It was an odd sensation. She was aware of sliding over something solid but she had no sense of actually touching him. She drifted around the room, thinking how odd it felt to be weightless and without form, yet able to think and observe. She floated up to the ceiling and stayed there for a few minutes, just because she could. Was this what it felt like to be a ghost, she wondered, or was it perhaps the way one’s soul felt when it left the body on its journey toward heaven. Or hell.

Drifting down towards the floor, she was overcome by a sudden fear that she wouldn’t be able to assume her own form again, that not only had she lost her soul, but her physical form as well, and that she was now doomed to spend the rest of her existence as some soulless, formless non-entity. Panic flowed through her and she felt herself bouncing aimlessly around the room, careening off the walls, the ceiling, the furniture. She would have screamed, had she been able.