And now Kimberly. Too close for comfort.
And Amanda was there when her attacker died? Or was killed?
The whole thing made my stomach turn. How were these murders connected to Caeran’s search for a cure for some obscure disease?
I was pretty sure I didn’t want to find out.
A cricket started chirping nearby. Dusk was falling, dimming the shapes of the trees at the back of the yard. I heard a car engine shut off out in the street. I stood, gave myself a cursory dust-off, and started toward the house, trying to compose a polite refusal of Caeran’s generous offer.
“She was trying to kill me at the time, by the way.”
I stopped and looked back at Amanda.
“She’d been trying to kill me all summer. You saw the ... second attempt, I think.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“That time, yeah.”
“I mean about the last time.”
She shook her head. “They wouldn’t have believed me.”
I took a step toward her. “Amanda, that’s illegal. You have to tell the cops if you witness a murder, or you’re guilty of conspiracy.”
“It wasn’t a murder. It was self-defense. She was trying to kill us.”
Us?
Voices from the house intruded on my attempt to understand. Someone had arrived, and the tone of one of the voices made my pulse race.
I started toward the house again. I could hear Amanda following me.
Len glanced up at me, in the act of putting something in the oven. I kept going through to the living room, then paused.
Lomen stood by the couch. He looked at me, raising all the hopes that threatened to shut off my brain, then away.
Beside him stood another guy from the same family: russet hair, slender but well-toned body, green eyes—a little darker than Caeran’s and Lomen’s. These guys had strong genetic traits, that was for sure.
He and Caeran were talking in a language I didn’t recognize: fluid, with soft consonants. The conversation stopped as I came in. The new guy looked at me warily, then his attention shifted to Amanda, who walked up and plastered herself to him. He bent his head to whisper something to her, still watching me.
Lomen turned and greeted me with a civil nod. My gut clenched with conflicting emotions: pleasure at seeing him, frustration at his distant attitude, irrational fear that I’d done something to annoy him.
Caeran spoke up. “Steve, this is Savhoran, another of my kin. He is vital to the research we’ll be doing.”
I looked at the new guy again. He had on a loose-woven cotton shirt and pants, the fabric similar to what Len was wearing. Amanda loosed her hold on him and he took a step toward me, then made a quaint little bow.
“I am glad to meet you,” he said.
His hair was braided back, but as he moved, the light caught streaks of white amid the brown.
W
hite hair. Caeran’s kin.
“You’ve got the disease,” I blurted.
And so did the campus killers.
Savhoran straightened and a swallow moved his throat. His eyes had gone cold, but he nodded. Amanda slid her arm around him again.
“Savhoran will give us whatever samples are needed to study his DNA,” Caeran said. “We hope that comparing it to that of a healthy—relative—myself or Lomen, will help in identifying the cause.”
“It might not be genetic,” I said, though my mind was racing.
“Possibly not, but we are prepared to try every avenue of research.”
“Is it just coincidence, or does this disease make people into homicidal maniacs?”
Caeran glanced toward Savhoran, but he was staring at the floor. “That’s not quite it. May I suggest we all sit down?”
Caeran gestured toward the couch, then moved to the chair he’d taken before. Savhoran took the other chair and Amanda sat on the arm, still clinging to him. That left the couch for me and Lomen. I sat on the end near Caeran, leaving plenty of room. I didn’t look at Lomen, but a rush went through me as he sat and his weight moved the couch.
Caeran laced his fingers and leaned back, hands to his chin, thinking. After a moment he straightened up and looked at me.
“What I am going to tell you will sound fantastic, like something out of fiction. I ask that you bear with me, and set aside the myths this will conjure for you.”
“OK.”
“The disease does not make people homicidal, exactly. It makes them crave blood.”
My jaw dropped. “Vampirism?”
“The basis of that myth, yes. But the myth carries misconceptions.”
“I’m listening.”
“This disease cannot affect you or Amanda or Len, or any other human. Only my kindred and I are vulnerable to it.”
I frowned. “You’re implying that you and your kindred aren’t human.”
“That is correct.”
Silence. I stared at Caeran, who gazed back calmly.
I bit back several sarcastic comments, and finally managed to just say, “Then what are you?”
He took a slow breath. “This, also, will bring myths to mind.”
“OK.”
“We are ælven.”
Long pause. Part of me wanted to laugh, but no one else seemed to think it was funny. I glanced at Amanda, who gave a tiny nod and a crooked smile.
Len came in from the kitchen. She shot me a sympathetic look, then went to sit on the floor by Caeran’s chair.
Caeran was watching me. Waiting for me to accept or protest.
“So...only elves can be vampires?” I said, my voice quavering. The impulse to laugh was part disbelief, part panic.
“Only ælven can be afflicted with the curse, yes,” Caeran said. “And only ælven blood, or human blood, will satisfy the hunger that it brings. The killings that have occurred on campus here in the past year were done by alben.”
“Wait, what?”
“Alben is the name we give to those of our kind who are afflicted and turn away from our creed,” Caeran said. “The campus killers are alben.”
“But Savhoran isn’t,” Amanda said.
Caeran nodded. “Savhoran upolds the creed, therefore he remains ælven.”
I closed my eyes. “OK, I’m getting overloaded.”
“This is a great deal of new information,” Caeran said. “Take your time. There is no hurry.”
I looked at him, then around the room. They were all watching me, including Lomen. His face showed concern, and for some reason that sent me over the edge.
I stood up. Had to get out. My hindbrain, reminding me that I had no vehicle there, sent me toward the back door instead of the front.
I strode to the middle of the yard and stood taking deep breaths. Venus was glowing in the last strip of fading blue that remained on the western horizon. I stared at that planet as if I could anchor myself to it.
I heard footsteps behind me in the grass. Turned to see Lomen had followed me.
Everything in my brain shifted sideways. Elves, vampires, research jobs—I didn’t care. I stared at Lomen, then swallowed the dryness in my throat.
“Just tell me,” I said, my voice rough. “If you’re not interested I won’t bother you.”
“Steven...”
I could just make out his face in the growing dusk. The concern was still there, but at least he was looking at me instead of avoiding my gaze.
“Do not base your decision about joining Ebonwatch on me.”
I blinked. Ebonwatch couldn’t have been farther from my thoughts.
“I understand your feelings.” His voice was just above a whisper. “And yes, I am open to sharing with you, but I do not wish you to be hurt. It might be best to avoid promises.”
“Are you saying you’re up for a fling but no more? That’s not what I want.”
My gonads screamed at me that it was enough for now. I ignored them.
“I’ve had it with short-term,” I said. “I want forever.”
He stood still, and I heard him exhale.
“Forever is a long time.”
I knew I was being an idiot. I wanted him, so much that I was actually willing to take whatever terms he laid down, but I’d been there before, had my heart crushed before, and I was sick of it. If I couldn’t have stability, I’d stay alone.
These were demands I’d had no intention of making. They came out of left field, a reaction to my confusion and too much emotion. I stood frozen, dreading and expecting his refusal.
He put a hand on my shoulder and leaned close, his cheek brushing mine and setting off sparks in my brain. I caught a whiff of scent: evergreen and spice.
I will be here.
I gasped, stunned by his voice in my head and by the sensation that accompanied it, of his soul touching mine.
Regardless of what you decide for Ebonwatch, I will be here. Set me aside while you make that choice. We will have time.
He backed away, releasing my shoulder and slipping out of my mind as suddenly as he had come in. I staggered, disoriented.
He walked back to the house, leaving me alone with the biggest hard-on I’d had in months.
I went to the nearest tree and leaned my head against it, bark pressing into my forehead. What had just happened?
Breathe.
I sucked deep breaths of the cool night air and tried to sort out my thoughts. I’d been half-sure that they were all putting me on about the elf and vampire stuff, but Lomen’s voice in my head had changed that.
Telepathy. Vampire elves.
And they wanted me to commit to a career trying to find this cure. For vampirism.
Not human. That’s why they didn’t want to use a lab for DNA analysis. They were a different freaking species, and that would show up in the DNA. Holy crap!
The prospect of studying a humanoid species that human science didn’t know about was tantalizing. Jeez, if not for the non-disclosure agreement, it could lead to a Pulitzer!
I hadn’t signed that agreement.
For a moment I saw an alternative. If I walked out now, I could pursue the study of this new species—scratch that; this probably very old species—on my own. Claim that Pulitzer, and whatever other prizes came with it. My ticket to fame and fortune.
All I had to do was betray Lomen and his friends.
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do that.
In the brief moment of our contact, I’d had a glimpse of Lomen’s heart, and it was glorious. I wanted to know him, to love him. Forever.
If I was ready to devote my life to Lomen, why not spend it fighting the disease that threatened him and his family?
He’d said to leave him out of the equation, but I didn’t see how I could. Impossible to separate him from the choice. If I agreed to help, I’d see him frequently. He was part of the project. If I chose to stay out of it, but got involved with Lomen, I’d be constantly reminded of what they were trying to achieve, and that I’d refused to help.
If I walked away from both the project and Lomen...
I couldn’t.
I straightened up. Took a couple of deep gulps of air. A leaf drifted down past my head, fluttering like a butterfly on its way to the ground, flashing golden as it caught the light from the house.
I headed back inside. Soft murmur of conversation from living room, and as I reached the door I smelled fresh-baked cookies.
I went in, and through to the living room. They all stopped talking and looked up at me. This time it was I who avoided Lomen’s gaze; no distractions. I walked to the couch, sat down, signed my name to the non-disclosure agreement, then carefully laid the pen down on the coffee table. The click it made on the wood filled the silence.
“I’m in.”
Most of them started talking at once. I glanced at Lomen. He smiled slightly; that was all. It was enough.
For now.
Len offered me a plate of cookies. I took one, though my stomach was pretty knotted. Bit off a small taste. Buttery, not too sweet, with piñon nuts. I chewed it slowly.
“Thank you, Steve,” Caeran said. “We’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’m going to buy some books, if that’s OK,” I said. “I’ll check the library first, but they may not have everything I want.”
Caeran nodded. “Just give your receipts to Amanda. She’ll reimburse you.”
I turned to Len. “Have you looked at rare forms of anemia? Could be related.”
“I’m just taking basic pre-med courses right now.”
“Let’s compare schedules. No need for us to overlap.” I looked at Amanda. “You in on the research?”
She shook her head. “Not my forte. I’m handling the business end.”
“Ah. Yes, you’ll be good at it.”
I realized the ... ælven ... had stopped talking and were all listening to me. I glanced around at them.
“Any of you scientifically inclined?”
“Lomen is something of a dabbler,” Caeran said. “He is also taking courses at the university.”
I met Lomen’s gaze and swallowed. “I’d like to see your schedule too, then.”
He nodded. “We could meet tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Len said. “Why don’t you all come for dinner? We can talk about getting the lab up and running, too.”
“Great idea!” Amanda said. “I’ll bring the wine.” She glanced sidelong at me and grinned. “Len’s a great cook, and Caeran isn’t bad either. Wait ’til you taste his homemade bread!”
This seemed to be the signal for the gathering to break up. Everyone stood. Len picked up the cookie plate and strolled to the kitchen, and Caeran followed her. Amanda and Savhoran went out the front door.
I stood by the couch, feeling foolish with half a cookie in my hand. Amanda was my ride; had she forgotten?
I supposed I could walk home. It wasn’t that far.
“Not at night,” Lomen said softly.
I faced him, stunned and momentarily angry. He’d read my mind.
“Sorry,” he said. “We’ll need to teach you to shield your thoughts.”
“You can hear everything I’m thinking?”
He bit his lip, laughter lighting his eyes. “Only if we’re listening.”
I looked away, swallowing. I could feel my face starting to burn.
“Steven. Don’t worry. I generally make it a point not to listen.”
I spotted a wastebasket by the front door. Walked over and dropped the cookie into it.
“Actually, we tend to tune out human thoughts most of the time,” Lomen said. “Otherwise they’re too distracting.”
I turned to face him. “You knew all along, then.”
He came over to me, stopping a couple of steps away. “That you were attracted to me? Only because I have felt the same.”