Serafina and the Silent Vampire (24 page)

Understanding, compassion, neither could prevent the numbing chill spreading through her veins.

I’ve been a distracting fuck for a depressed vampire.
Why should that hurt so much? She’d had sex for less worthy reasons.

“Ailis could force him to exist,” Phil’s faint voice went on in her mind. “But she couldn’t make him happy.” When Sera glanced at him uncertainly, his cracked lips quirked again. “He didn’t throw me to safety. He jumped with me and saved us both. Your banking vampires intrigued and annoyed him. You gave him back life. Un-life.”

“You’re delirious,” she said shakily. Blair wasn’t like that, he wasn’t. He was hedonistic and lazy and unexpectedly good fun. And yet when he’d first touched her, there had been that profound blackness corroding him. She’d put it down to too many terrible memories, appalling crimes committed and suffered. But it had always been more than that. Jamie’s vision had reinforced what she already suspected deep down. She of all people should never have labeled Blair so simply.

“I’m talking too much,” Phil agreed, closing his eyes. “For a silent vampire…”

Sera stared at him and swallowed. “I can give you blood. If you promise not to take it all.”

Phil’s eyes opened. “I can’t drink from you, Sera.”

“Because you’re too weak?” she asked in pity.

“No, idiot. Because you’re his.”

She tore her gaze free, appalled to feel tears clogging her throat. “No, I’m not,” she whispered.

“We have to finish this,” Sera fumed, all but slamming the shop door as she entered Serafina’s. “Smith’s fighting dirty. That fire was meant to kill Blair.”

“I thought he was dead already,” Jilly muttered.

Sera swung on her. “Well, there are two kinds of dead. There’s dead and able to help us, and there’s dead and useless. Does that make it more palatable for you?”

“Not entirely,” Jilly snapped back. “When all this is done, who’s going to help against
him
?”

“Let’s worry about that when it’s a problem. For now, trust me, Smith and his little banking army are by far the greater threat.” Sera threw herself into the chair behind her desk and scowled at her fingers.

No one spoke, although she was sure they were all busy exchanging glances.

“Are you guys in the phone book?” she asked abruptly. “Can you be traced easily?”

“Don’t try and put the wind up us, Sera MacBride,” Jilly said.

“I’m not. Look, even if Smith still refuses to hurt me, he’s still more than capable of hurting you to force my hand. Maybe you should all find somewhere else to stay until this is over. Don’t come in to work.”

“Don’t be silly, Sera,” Elspeth said briskly. “If he won’t hurt you, being where you are is clearly the safest place for us. I know your flat is rather small, but maybe we should all stay with you for the duration.”

Sera closed her mouth.

Jilly grinned and cocked her head in Elspeth’s direction. “What she said.”

Sera sprang to her feet. “Have I ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Frequently,” said Jilly proudly.

Sera threw a pencil sharpener at her and paced toward the window. “I wish it would get dark…”

“So the bad guys come out again?” Jack enquired.

She sighed. “No, so Melanie will have had a good sleep and be able to give the spell another go. I was thinking about it, and I’m sure it’ll work better at night, when there are vampires around.”

“Maybe,” Jilly allowed.

Sera didn’t give her other reason, which was that Blair was more likely to visit. She still hadn’t warned him to steer clear of the police.

****

Melanie’s second attempt seemed destined for as little success as her first. She sat bolt upright at the dining table, one hand clutching a human bone, the other buried in a tray of fresh earth. A green twig lay under her wrist. The words were said. Sera had seen the power flowing from her friend’s eyes, but somehow, she knew it had never connected. But Melanie was still concentrating, still trying.

For an observer, it was, frankly, boring. No one could complain if Sera’s mind drifted away, looking for Blair. She’d never tried contacting him telepathically before, although it had happened by accident at Smith’s house. She tried it deliberately now, talking directly, silently to the “feel” that was Blair.

“Blair. Blair, are you there?”

Silence greeted her. Inevitably. Then his voice sounded in her head, unmistakably Blair. “Of course.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy.”

Infuriated, she demanded, “Busy doing what?”

“Vampire things,” he said blandly. “Call later.”

Bastard. She’d sensed the excitement in his telepathic voice, had no doubt what he was doing. She fed her own anger because it was easier to deal with than what lay underneath it.

“Damn!” Melanie gasped out.

At once, Sera dragged her attention back to the witch. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”

“I nearly had it,” Melanie panted. “Nearly. I felt a surge and almost reached a recipient.”

“What sort of a surge?” Sera asked, frowning.

“I don’t know…” Melanie’s eyes came back into proper focus, gazing at Sera. “You, I think…” She closed her eyes. “Hell, I’m weak as a kitten. This is going to take an awfully long time, isn’t it? I need help. I should call in a few colleagues.”

“Maybe you should,” Sera agreed, trying not to sound too bleak. She stood up. “Come on. Sleep some more, and then we’ll decide. I’m going to find Blair.”

****

No one, Sera thought, walking through the cobbled streets of the old town surrounding the castle, could object to being the reason her lover wanted to live. Although she could doubt its truth. Sera had encountered depressed and even suicidal people before, and Blair, for all his hidden depths just didn’t fit the profile.

Nor was she blind to the fact that as she’d entered his house this afternoon, Blair had deliberately left it. He had other things on his mind, of course: preserving Phil and stopping his pain—how did human blood do that, anyway? But what difference would a minute have made? Couldn’t he have said hello?

Why should he? Why should a centuries-old vampire waste any time on a girl who blew hot and cold for no reason except her own miserable hang-ups? And why should said girl give a damn anyway? She needed Blair to help with the banking-vampire problem. In personal terms, they were poison to each other.

She even wondered if he were hiding from her, because tracking him had proved extraordinarily difficult. He’d walked past Serafina’s at some point, but his trail had disappeared. She’d gone back to his street and picked up the “feel” of him there. It had gone round the corner and disappeared again. Heading up to the old town had been a last resort, because at least one of the vampires’ victims had been killed in a pub in that area. She was sure he would be hunting, whether human or vampire, and the dark allies and closes, the old stamping ground of murderers like Deacon Brodie and Burke and Hare, would surely be the best place for that.

And here, at last, she’d picked up his trail, following him from pub to pub. As she brushed against a wall, she got a flash of him, gazing into a man’s eyes, arm around his shoulder as if in drunken camaraderie, while in his mind was only cold calculation and blood lust. She could feel where he’d drunk the man’s blood and moved on. Clearly he wasn’t taking them all home to Phil. Perhaps there were limits to what Phil could drink in a day.

He’d been in another pub since then and left with another human. Sera followed them along the road and down the steps of a narrow alley. The old, gray stone buildings rose tall and threatening on either side. The light was poor, and at the corner of another, even narrower passage that ran between buildings, it seemed to disappear altogether. Glancing up, Sera saw that the street lamp was broken. She could see only blackness in the passage, and yet she knew he’d gone that way.

Her skin prickled as she stepped inside. It was worth remembering that vampires were not the only predators who haunted the dark corners of cities. In fact, human predators would probably do her more damage. At least the handy sharp stick in her pocket would work on either kind.

She moved on, trailing one hand along the wall of the building on her left to keep track of him. Her eyes grew more accustomed to the deeper darkness and began to make out the looming buildings, their doors and windows and backyards. Her feet made very little noise, just the occasional crunch on the uneven cobbles. From the buildings, she heard occasional muffled voices raised in anger or bursts of laughter, but she encountered no one.

Until she saw Blair. There were rough, ancient steps on two sides, leading up to a doorway. The light above the door had mysteriously gone out too, and beneath its broken glass, Sera saw shadows move. Not large or threatening movements, but very slight, sensual ones. Her heart lurched. She stopped and stared until the figures resolved. A man and a woman locked in an embrace. He’d braced her against the wall, much as he’d once done with Sera against her kitchen door. He might have been screwing the woman, for all Sera knew. He was certainly biting her.

Head thrown back against the wall, the woman’s body moved against him as if to the rhythm of his sucking. She made a tiny little mewl of pleasure, and slowly, unhurriedly, Blair lifted his head. But he didn’t look at his victim; he turned and gazed directly at Sera. Of course, he knew she was there. His eyes seemed to glitter. She could make out his fangs, gleaming white among the blood. Then, deliberately, he returned to the woman’s throat and drank some more.

Sera stood rooted to the spot. She wanted to throw something at him, make him stop. And yet she knew he wouldn’t kill the woman. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. In some strange, perverse way, he’d never looked more beautiful or more alien to her. And yet what bothered her most was the heat that flooded her body as she watched him. Her hard, yearning nipples seemed to rub against the fabric of her clothes; between her legs was the hot moisture of lust. And in her heart, the sharp, ugly ache of jealousy.

Blair raised his head once more. She even saw him lick the woman’s wound as he’d licked hers. Then he released her. The woman appeared to tug his arm, urging him toward the doorway, but Blair merely removed her hand and kissed it with antiquated gallantry before gently pushing her into the doorway.

Only then, when the door had closed behind his obedient victim, did he turn and look once more at Sera. He said nothing. His mind was silent, his body unnaturally still.

“Full?” she snapped, more to break the silence than because she had any desire to know.

“No. But then I was always taught to leave the table knowing I could eat just a little more.”

What the hell was she doing here? Had she really imagined that Blair would be any help with Melanie’s spell problem? Had she really imagined he’d want to be? They were anathema to each other, and this was exactly what Blair had meant to show her.

Hell,
I’ll
do it. I’ll wish all the energy of the dead through me to Mel. Then she’ll reach the bastards.

It was a wild thought, surging out of nowhere from defiance, from some unbearably painful disappointment that she refused to analyze. She even swung away from him, ready to return the way she’d come.

And suddenly, he was there in front of her, forcing her to halt.

“That might work,” he said mildly. “Energy comes from many sources, and you can channel it as I can’t. Vampires only pass supernatural energy on through their blood. Also, I’ve been thinking about what you said about magic, about opening locks with my mind. It only works when I’m close to the lock in question.”

Sera’s lips parted. “You mean she has to be around the vampires as she casts the spell? Bloody hell, how long is that going to take?”

“Depends on how close the vampires are.” He leaned closer, inhaling her. “The closer the better.”

Her body seemed to remember its experience of closeness to Blair. She felt it melt, even as she fought the memory.

“Don’t even think about it.” It would have been a snarl if only her voice hadn’t shaken. “You haven’t brushed your teeth.”

“I don’t leave blood on my teeth. I drink it all.”

“Not from me, you don’t!”

Although her body trembled, her words and her mind defied him. Glaring into his eyes, she even began to drag the stake from her pocket. But this close, his eyes seemed to drown hers. It wasn’t his hypnosis. It was her own fascination and straightforward lust. His lips parted, revealing a glimpse of his fangs. Her breath caught. He bent his head, not to her throat but to her mouth, and took it with his.

She tried to speak, to tell him to fuck off, but it wouldn’t have been honest. She wanted his kiss. She wanted his mouth moving on hers, stroking her tongue and lips and teeth. She wanted the reminder, the danger of his wicked, pointed canines, grazing the inside of her mouth. So she gave in and found she hadn’t remembered the full devastation of his kiss after all.

It was long and sensual and drove everything else from her mind. And yet he didn’t hold her, merely touched her with his body and his mouth. If anyone pressed closer, it was Sera. Only at the end, as his lips began to disengage, did he bring up his hand and touch her cheek, almost as if he couldn’t help it.

But his fingertips felt strange. Not the smooth, sexy touch she’d somehow got used to, but rough, uneven. She snapped her eyes open as he lifted his head, and she imagined one side of his face was disfigured. The darkness was playing tricks. But the knowledge didn’t prevent her touching his face in return and feeling the damaged skin.

“You were burned too,” she blurted. “Like Phil.”

“Not like Phil.” He stepped back, out of her reach, and she realized that the tender moment, if that was what it really was, had passed.

“He wouldn’t drink from me.”

“Drunks are always overly sentimental. Why were you looking for me?”

“Lots of reasons. We need to finish Smith quickly, and I don’t know how. The police think you started the fire; someone drew you escaping, and McGowan recognized you.”

“Did you tell them where I live?”

“Of course, I bloody didn’t!”

“Schoolboy honor—school
girl
honor—is not yet dead,” he said flippantly. “All right. We’ll finish it quickly. I should be healed by tomorrow.”

“Will Phil?”

“Phil may take a little longer.” He gave her a small, ironic bow, turned on his heels, and disappeared into the night so fast she couldn’t make him out.

****

He didn’t go far. From the end of the passage, he leapt onto the top of the tall, stone tenement and watched her make her way back to better lit parts of town.

“Nicholas,” he called with his mind, reaching out to the psychic presence. “Nicholas Smith. I suppose I have to talk banks with you.”

There was a pause. But he’d got the message. Blair felt his astonishment, paralyzing his mind.

“Blair?” came the cautious response. Fear had overlaid his disbelief. “I thought you were—dead.”

“Oh, I’ve always been dead. At least in your lifetime. I’m not so easy to kill for good, but I can see that if I want a quiet life, I have to take to the financial world. Have you thought of telepathic banking?”

Nicholas Smith’s mind was smiling now. He was still suspicious but definitely hopeful. “I can see you’ll be a great asset to our cause after all.”

****

“I need a drink,” Sera said, throwing her keys on the table and sinking into the nearest chair. Opposite her, Jilly and Jack looked up from their fish suppers with more hope than expectation.