Sire (9 page)

"Again?" Caitlin asked.

"Liam did this, I suppose? Those two ... not to overstep my position, but I do wish Angelica would sort this mess out. One of these days, someone is going to be seriously hurt."

"One of these days? He ran him through with a sword!"

"Yes, he did. And ruined another carpet. But Master McKenna will be all right. He just needs a little pick-me-up."

William walked over to the fireplace and took a big glass decanter from the mantle. He looked at the glasses for a moment, then selected the largest one and filled it with thick red liquid.

William was utterly calm throughout the entire process.

The butler set the glass down next to Michael, stepped over his body, and grasped the sword's handle. "Step back, please, Miss Manning. He can be a bit ... nippy when he first comes to."

Caitlin took a few careful steps away. William, apparently satisfied that she was out of danger, put his other hand on the sword's hilt, bent his legs, and jerked as hard as he could. The sword came out with a sick, wet sound. The blade rang like a bell.

William danced backward. Michael's back arched, and the force of his muscle's spasms almost propelled him off the ground. He turned in mid-air and landed in a three-point stance, with his free hand held behind his back, claws waving in the air. He stared at Caitlin with blood-red eyes, and snarled. His muscles coiled, like a cat ready to pounce on a bird ...

Then he smelled the blood that William had placed next to him. His nostrils flared and twitched, and slowly the feral look on his face was replaced by a calmer, more rational expression. He stood up, grabbing the glass on the way, and downed the blood in a single gulp.

He closed his eyes. The black lines receded, and the stab wound closed. Color returned to his skin. When he opened his eyes again, they were a perfect, brilliant blue.

Caitlin hurried over to him, pulling his shirt away and examining his now-healed injury. And taking a slightly closer look at his chest. God, he was well built. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He smirked. "I'll live," he said. "Thanks, William."

The butler declined his head a fraction of an inch. "Always a pleasure to serve, sir."

Caitlin looked up at Michael. "So, Liam said these are Angelica's?" she said, pulling at the silk shirt she had been given. "Does she spend the night here a lot?"

Michael sighed, and looked away, but said nothing.

"And you don't drink human blood?" Caitlin finally asked. "Because William said you only had animal blood in stock."

"Never."

"So, you're ... like a vegetarian?"

"Those God damn books," Michael said.

But he was smiling.

***

Bethany's eyes fluttered open.

It took her a moment to figure out where she was; the room, the sounds, the smells, were all weird. Then she remembered: she was at college. She was in her dorm.

Something shifted in bed next to her, and she almost screamed.

Garret was lying next to her, covered in a sheet.

Oh.

This wasn't
her
room, it was
his
.

Bethany quietly slipped out of bed, and started collecting her clothes from the floor. Where in the hell did her shoes go? Oh, under her bra, which was under the desk. Good. She needed that, too.

More or less together, she tip-toed over to the door and opened it as silently as she could.

Garret made a noise and rolled over. Bethany's head jerked around, but when her eyes fell on him, she smiled.

Garret turned back toward the wall, and Bethany slipped out of his bedroom. The suite was empty, as far as she could tell, and Bethany made her way out and across the hall. She opened the door to her suite and slipped inside.

She closed the door and leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief. No one had seen her walk of shame. She didn't want them to think of her as the sort of girl that hooked up on the first date.

Even though she guessed she kind of
was
that sort of girl.

But come on, Garret was
hot.
And he was nice, and funny, and a gentleman. And
hot.

"Well look what the cat dragged in."

Bethany jumped. Olivia was standing in the kitchen, dressed in jogging clothes, with a bottle of juice in her hand.

"Oh. Olivia. Hi. I, um, didn't expect you to be up this early."

"I like to get an early start," Olivia replied. "Leaves more time for extracurricular activities at night. But you know all about that, don't you?"

Bethany turned red from her toes to her scalp. "I, um, well, you see ..."

"Oh, it's okay. I'm actually proud of you. Didn't think you had it in you.
Really
didn't think you'd be the first one to get some action."

"Oh, well I'm not, I mean, other ... people ... didn't come home last night, either. I think. I mean, she was with some guy when we left, and I ..."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Really? Alexis?"

"No, um ..."

"
Caitlin?
Well I'll be damned. I really figured her for the choir girl type. Huh. Maybe this suite won't suck after all."

Olivia walked toward the door, and Bethany stepped aside. Olivia looked her up and down slowly, smirking, and left the apartment. Bethany leaned against the door again, and closed her eyes.

"I really don't like that girl," Bethany said.

***

Caitlin stirred from her sleep.

She wasn't sure what had woken her up. Maybe it was the sound of the wind howling outside. Or the tree branches scraping together. Maybe it was all of the creaks and moans of an unfamiliar house at night.

Moonlight gave everything a blueish tinge, and Caitlin looked around the room she had been given for the night. Like everything else in the mansion, it was lavish without being tacky. The bed was enormous. She wasn't sure what came after King-sized—maybe Emperor or something—but this bed was it. The sheets were black silk, which probably wasn't strictly necessary, but it sure was comfortable. A little slippery, but comfortable. A doorway led to an attached bathroom, done in marble, like Liam's, but this one had towels and wash cloths and a distinct lack of anyone planning to kill her. The bedroom itself held a gigantic armoire, a dressing table with a huge mirror, and a fainting couch. And over in the corner, where the moonlight didn't quite reach, was an ornate armchair.

And Michael.

"God!" Caitlin half-shouted. She pulled the sheet up to her neck. "What are you doing in here?"

Michael was sprawled in the chair, sitting so low that he was almost lying down. His hands lay on the arm rests like claws. His face was mostly in shadow. "Watching you," he said. "Making sure you're safe."

"That's ... kind of creepy, honestly."

"Maybe, but it's necessary. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"That's sweet," Caitlin said, "but honestly, I've had too much weird tonight, and I just need to sleep."

"But you're in danger," Michael insisted.

"I know." Caitlin thought for a moment. "But won't Liam leave me alone now? After you showed him that ring?"

"Liam isn't the only vampire interested in you." The moonlight caught in Michael's eyes, and they glittered like rubies.

Caitlin's skin went cold. "You're ... kinda scaring me."

"Good." His voice was a whisper. "You should be afraid, Caitlin."

Her heart pounded, but Caitlin tried to keep her voice steady. "I don't know what game you're playing, or why you're acting like this, but I don't like it. I want to be alone now." She rolled over, turning her back to him ...

And ended up in his arms. The skin of his bare chest was cool and white. Whether this was from the moonlight, or from his ... condition, Caitlin couldn't be sure. But his eyes were still blue. Still that mesmerizing, endless blue ...

"We're all alone, Caitlin. So let's be alone together."

"That might be ... nice," She said in a halting voice. Michael was a vision, the most beautiful person she had ever seen, and his presence was almost overwhelming. The sight of him, the sound of his voice, the touch of his skin, threatened to push her over the edge. But it was too much, too soon ...

"I can't," she said.

"It'll only hurt for a moment." His voice was soft, comforting. His eyes pulled at her, and she felt like she was floating. "And then it's nothing but passion."

Caitlin felt her inhibitions fall like a physical thing. One moment she was afraid, and in the next moment she wanted to be devoured.

"Kiss me," she said.

Michael pushed her hair away from her face, then ran his fingers along her jaw. Down her throat. Along her collar bone.

Caitlin's heart sped up. When Michael's fingers reached the first button of her shirt, she thought she might pass out. He undid the first button with a flick of his finger. And then the second. And the third.

Slowly, gently, he pushed the silk aside. Caitlin arched her back.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said, breathless.

Michael's fangs flashed, and he dove for her exposed neck.

***

Caitlin jerked awake, her eyes wide, her pulse racing. Her hand shot to her throat.

She was fine. There were no bite marks, no blood. Sunlight poured in through the window, giving everything a golden hue. The chair in the corner was decidedly empty.

It was just a dream. Nothing but a dream.

Someone had left a tray with grapefruit and toast and cereal, milk and juice. She was still famished, and she ate quickly and fully.

Then she wandered around the mansion.

It seemed deserted, and it felt kind of wrong to be wandering around someone else's house when they weren't around. On the other hand, what else was she supposed to do? Sit in her room until sunset? She didn't even really know where she was, so it wasn't like she could just go back to campus.

Campus. Crap. She hoped her roommates weren't upset at her disappearing act. She was going to have to come up with some kind of a story as to why she just up and vanished, and why she never called.

Eventually Caitlin wandered into the library. Of course he had a library. And not a few shelves full of books, either. Every available inch was covered from floor to ceiling in books, and there was one of those ladders on wheels so you could reach them all. There must have been ten thousand books in there, maybe more.

After browsing for a few minutes, Caitlin took down an old copy of
Jane Eyre
, and sat at a desk on the far side of the room. She was about to open the book, but the stuff scattered on the desk caught her attention first.

The silver knife, almost a foot long, was the first thing she noticed. This guy had more blades lying around than a professional chef. But what the knife was sitting on was even more interesting.

It was a sketchbook, and the knife was holding the it open. A remarkably lifelike drawing of a vampire—no, of Liam—adorned the left page, with a bunch of lines leading to captions on the right. And the captions themselves ... well, they talked about what would happen if the knife was inserted into different places on a vampire's body. The caption for the heart read "death," but that was crossed out. Beneath it was the word "paralysis." Beneath
that
was the word "poison?"

Another journal lay next to the first. This one was leather-bound, with a complicated knotwork design embossed on the cover. Caitlin undid the thong that held it closed and flipped through it. The handwriting was different, probably a girl's.

The book talked about how to summon and bind energies, how to create images—drawings as well as mental pictures—that would make the energy flow correctly. It seemed like it was some kind of a ... spell book?

"What the hell?" Caitlin asked herself.

She found a page with "Containment Pentacle" written at the top and underlined. Beneath it was a complicated design, a bunch of intersecting lines inside of a circle, with dozens of squiggles and markings scattered around the interior. And then a section called "Proper Invocation."

"Miss?"

Caitlin's heart leapt into her throat, and she slammed the journal closed. Guilt colored her face red, and she refused to turn around. "Um, yes?"

"Good morning, Miss Manning. Master McKenna has left me instructions to see you back to campus. Also, I regret to inform you that we were unable to get the blood out of your clothing."

"Oh, okay. And you are ...?"

"His Day Man, miss. You may call me Alan."

"Day Man?"

"I see to tasks while Master McKenna is ... indisposed. While the sun is in the sky."

"Oh, right, because he's ..." Caitlin stopped herself.

"Yes, because." Alan replied. "The car is out front. We can leave whenever you are ready."

"Okay, I'll be right with you."

Caitlin took one long, last look at the journals on the desk, then followed Alan outside.

***

Alexis was eating breakfast at the counter when Caitlin got home. She looked up from her cereal when the door swung open, and her eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. "Caitlin! Where the hell have you been? God, I was worried about you. I know we aren't BFFs or anything, but come on! You could have at least given me a text or something!"

Ugh. Caitlin had hoped that she could sneak in without anyone noticing, and maybe have some time alone to cook up a cover story. And put some real clothes on. "I know, I know, and I'm so sorry. I was with Michael, and I lost my phone, and I didn't know where you were or how to get a hold of you, and I'm really sorry and I know I'm a horrible person and can you please forgive me?"

"Wait, you were with Michael? And why are you wearing pajamas?"

"My clothes got kind of ... ruined."

Alexis looked at her for a level ten seconds, then made an approving face. "Well check you out. Good for you. So how was he?"

"What? No! No, it's not like that, it's ... I spilled something on my jeans, and he was going to have them cleaned, but they couldn't get the stain out, and then one of his friends came over—"

"whoa, Michael
and
his friend?"

"No! It was just really late when ... when his friend finally left, so he let me stay the night, and then he had his Day Man drive me home. Nothing happened, honest!"