In the Blood (5 page)

But this was not another of his hypnotic tricks. Maddening though it was, she could not resist. She opened her mouth under his, found herself just as wild and desperate as him. She wound her arms around his neck and rose on the tips of her toes, not close enough and too close at the same time. His hands smoothed her shirt tight against her back, then bunched the fabric in his fingers, slid under to suddenly hot skin beneath, tracing down her spine, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her jeans.

Someone cleared their throat, and Viktor’s hands immediately moved to smooth his jacket as he stepped back from her. Anthony stood in the foyer, a respectful distance from them. “I’m sorry for my interruption, Mr. Novotny. Is there anything else you’ll need tonight?”

“No, thank you, Anthony. Good night.”

He nodded toward Cassie. “Will the lady be needing a ride home?”

“Good night, Anthony.” Viktor’s voice was firmer, and he waited until the man entered the elevator and the doors had closed behind him before he spoke again.

“I apologize for my behavior.” He unbuttoned and re-buttoned his jacket as he spoke, though it hadn’t been rumpled. “It was not… I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said quickly. “I don’t usually do…that. Either.”

They stood in silence, looking anywhere but at each other, though Cassie stole a glance or two to try and discern what he was thinking. Had that been another mind trick? The sensible thing would have been to blame it on that, but the truth was, she’d lost control, just as he had.

“I have questions,” she asked after what seemed like a long time, hoping to return the moment to neutral ground.

“All right.” He rubbed his hands together as though he anticipated her questions happily. His sudden shift in mood only highlighted the awkwardness of their situation, an oddly endearing reaction in Cassie’s mind. He placed a hand on her elbow to steer her from the foyer to the staircase, and his touch sent a shock of awareness through her. Strangely, the crazy glass stairs and dizzying height displayed by the windows ahead didn’t seem as terrifying with him at her side.

He led her to the couch and waited until she had sat before seating himself in the armchair adjacent. “Would you like to go first, or shall I?”

“I will,” she said quickly. She hadn’t thought he would want to know anything about her. No one usually did. “How old are you?”

“Forty-two,” he answered automatically, then corrected himself. “No, no, you wish to know about—”

“Total,” she prompted. “The total number of years.”

“Yes.” He tapped his finger against his lips, his brow creased in a frown. “I was born in 1881. That would make me…one hundred and twenty-nine years old.”

She tried not to choke on her own spit. She’d expected him to be old. Maybe even ancient. She’d been fully prepared to learn he was five hundred. Hearing it out loud was a lot different than imagining it in your head, though. “Maybe I should have started with ‘where are you from?’”

He shook his head, making a clucking noise with his tongue. “No, no. It’s my turn now. Where are you from?”

She took a deep breath and tried to remember her therapist’s words
. You do not need to disclose what happened to anyone. You have a new life now, and you’ve paid your debt to society. You won’t hurt anyone by omitting the truth.
Easy enough to say when you’re being paid to, she guessed. Now was not the time to tell him, if she ever told him at all. “I’m from Arizona.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. “Arizona, and you moved all the way to New York? I’m impressed.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be, it was just a plane ride. Now, my turn. Where are
you
from?”

“The Austro-Hungarian Empire,” he said, then he cursed under his breath. “No, I’m sorry. Czechoslovakia.”

“The Czech Republic,” she corrected him quietly. “Since the end of the cold war.”

“Ah, yes. I have not been back since I left there, and I must confess I have not always cared for politics.” He shrugged. “I must now, for the sake of the company. But it bores me. I let Anthony handle the details.”

“And you don’t miss your home?” If a news story came on related to her home state, Cassie’s ears always perked up, even though she didn’t want them to.

“There is nothing there for me,” he said, with a harshness that shocked Cassie. Recovering his cool demeanor, he continued, “But you spoke out of turn. I have the same question for you.”

Cassie felt her heartbeat in her throat. “Do I miss my home? No. Not at all.”

He smiled, slow and genuine. “I think we must be very alike.”

“You mean besides the whole you’re-a-vampire thing?” She snickered. “Yeah, I guess we’re a lot alike.”

In more ways than you know.

Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore. Not even in a grim, darkly humorous way. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Oh man, I am…so exhausted.”

“It is the adrenaline wearing off. It is safer for you to stay here,” he said, letting out a long breath, as if bracing for an argument. “I do not expect you to…fulfill our previous agreement while you are here tonight. But if you wish to be compensated—”

“No.” She cleared her throat. “You saved my life.”

“Twice,” he reminded her with a gentle smile. “It is late. Let me take you to the guest room.”

Guest room? They hadn’t been able to control themselves in the foyer, what would happen when they were in a room with a bed? Nothing, she resolved as she followed Viktor to a door that blended seamlessly into the marble wall.

“My idea,” he said with an embarrassed smile. “I greatly admire the secret passages of Bond villain hideouts.”

Was that a joke? Had he just made a joke? “I didn’t realize vampires had a sense of humor.”

“Don’t tell anyone, it would ruin our collective reputation.” He held open the door for her, and she took a deep breath as she stepped past him. Into a secret passageway, with a vampire. It was official. She had lost her mind.

The corridor they’d entered was as dark and mausoleum-like as the rest of the house. Sconces on the wall reflected shallow light off the black marble walls, but at least the floor here was carpeted, a thick white plush that would feel heavenly barefoot. Thankfully the carpet continued into the guest room Viktor opened for her.

“Your entire apartment makes me crave Oreos,” she said, wandering to the king-sized bed in the center of the room, a mountain of black pillows piled high upon the pristine white duvet cover.

He followed her only a few steps, as though an invisible tether held him back. “I could call Anthony back to bring you some, if you wish. I can make him get you almost anything. He’s very handy to keep around.”

She smiled at his joke and shook her head, wondering what it would be like to just order someone to get you cookies. Did people really do that kind of thing? Was Anthony an assistant, or was he a slave under hypnotic mind control? “No, I’m not hungry, actually.”

“Well, if you are, or if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. I owe you your comfort, since I have caused you all this trouble.” He motioned to the dresser. “There are a few things in there you might find useful. Nightclothes, underthings.”

“Underthings?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I am a vampire, not a monk.” His easy shrug told her that jealousy was not required. Not that she had a reason to be jealous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with Julie, and probably with lots of other women in his long, long life.

Something was definitely wrong with her brain if she was worried about what other women this vampire guy was sleeping with, even if he had kissed her and saved her life. The kiss had been nothing but a natural expression of relief after danger. And he may have saved her life, but he even admitted it was his fault she had gotten into trouble in the first place.

Although, the first time, she’d gotten herself into trouble. But it had been because of the nightmares, and those had gotten worse when she’d met him.

Had gotten worse, but hadn’t simply appeared overnight. Since the moment she’d met him, he’d dominated her thoughts. Being apart hadn’t made things any better, and now, being near him, her confusion had been turned all the way up to eleven.

“Viktor, may I ask you something?” He nodded, and she continued. “You told me the Minions were after me were because of you. But I’ve had nightmares about them ever since—for my whole life. My whole life, I’ve had them. Not just after I met you.”

Her words had visibly shaken him. She had thought it would be impossible, but he went paler, the deep, sorrowful hollows beneath his eyes darkening. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no,” he assured her, composing his shocked expression but not truly hiding it. “It is rare, but not unheard of, for people to know of the existence of Minions without truly knowing what they are. Perhaps you saw them once and only mistook it for a dream.”

“I think I would remember those things pretty clearly.” She didn’t mean to argue with him, but something nagged at her, some component of the situation that did not rest easy in the back of her mind. “They’re not normal. It’s not like you see scary, blank vampires all over New York. I’ve never even seen a bat since I moved here.”

He shrugged, his pretended indifference beginning to resemble actual indifference. It made it seem more like an act. “Perhaps they are a part of the collective primal memory. Perhaps something happened once, something that brought you close to death.”

Her heart went icy cold. “No, nothing like that has ever happened to me. You’re right, maybe they’re just a part of everyone’s nightmares. They’re certainly nightmarish enough.”

“Well, if you will be comfortable for now, I will excuse myself.” He hesitated only a moment, to give her a chance to ask for anything else, to see if she truly was comfortable. She smiled, trying to look more at ease than he did, so he would go. If he didn’t, the temptation to jump into his arms and beg him to make good on his threats to give her pleasure unlike any she had felt before might just overwhelm her. It was a far more attractive prospect than going to bed and giving herself up to the nightmares. She watched him go, waiting to hear the soft click of a door before she let out the breath she held.

Once inside his office, Viktor closed the door and took a moment to still his racing mind. He reached into his collar and gripped Melina’s ring. It burned white hot against his palm, and he dropped it with a curse. It bounced like a hot coal off his skin, and he ripped the chain from his neck with a growl. The ring rolled across the carpet to settle innocently a few feet from him. The Eastern cross etched into the band mocked him with a glint of light, and Viktor could not force his gaze to settle upon it.

Aversion to holy objects, he thought. One step closer to the end. He forced his limbs to stop trembling as he wiped his burned hand over his face. He would have to feed now, to heal his wounds, and feed that other hunger in him, as well. Though the kiss he’d shared with Cassandra had soothed the ragged edges of his humanity, a simple kiss could not stem the tide that flowed away from him. He’d needed to be with her that first night, to have taken someone else in the days since. His self-enforced chastity of the past week had been a substantial blow to his humanity, and it could not have come at a worse time. He could not worry about himself when he was so worried about Cassandra. But why was he so worried? He had not caused her troubles. The sadness he had tasted in her had been aging for some time.

It is because she reminds you so much of someone you can never have again.
His chest tightened as though the missing weight of the ring were enough to crush him. Cassandra was nothing like Melina. But she had seen the Minions, she’d remembered them when other humans would not have. Other humans would have been dead if they had encountered them. Even those who had been slain by the creatures had likely not known what had caused their death.

Perhaps she had died, his traitorous mind insisted. Perhaps she died long ago, when there was no one to save her.

He shook his head, desperate to clear those dangerous longings from his mind. He would not let Cassandra meet the same fate Melina had, and he would not entertain any notion that they were connected. His imagination would happily run away with him to let him feel a fraction of what he’d felt with Melina. What he’d felt when he’d kissed Cassandra.

Carefully, he lifted the precious ring with his handkerchief. Through the silk, the metal band burned as though it had been removed from an oven, but when he set it onto the gleaming enamel of his desk, it left no mark. The handkerchief came away without a scorch on it, and he used it to mop his sweating brow. With trembling hands, he reached for his phone and dialed Anthony’s number.

“Get me someone. I don’t care who,” he ordered as soon as the man answered. He could not keep up the pretext of Anthony’s false employment now. The man acted in his capacity as a protector of humanity tonight. Viktor looked away from the ring and fixed his gaze on the clock. After he fed, his mind would be clearer. After he fed from a human and took his pleasure from a human body, he would have the strength to banish these confusing thoughts and to concentrate on what should be his true concern.

His loss of humanity that drove him ever closer to losing his soul completely.

Chapter Four

In her completely dark, completely silent room, in a bed ten times more comfortable than her bed at home, Cassandra couldn’t sleep. Sleeping in strange places had always been a problem for her. She punched her pillow with a frustrated sigh and threw her legs out of the bed. A soft silk robe hung from the bedpost and she pulled it down. The nightgown she’d found in the drawer—with the price tags still on—was long, made of the same deliciously soft black silk as the robe, but a bit too tight and not something she wanted to parade around a stranger’s house in. Shrugging into the sleeves of the robe, she padded to the door and opened it, turning the knob slowly so as not to make a noise.

While she was pretty sure Viktor would still be up—vampires slept during the day, didn’t they?—she didn’t want his solicitous manservant popping up with a glass of warm milk. What kind of a person just hung around waiting for someone else’s orders all day and all night? Viktor must pay him a fortune. Or maybe he had some really horrible dirt on him. While she supposed it might be convenient to be waited on hand and foot, she just needed to be alone with her thoughts. Or alone with Viktor, since her thoughts all concerned him.