A Vampire's Soul (4 page)

“Rowan, if Gabriel wanted you dead, you can be assured of two things,” she said calmly, as she pushed one of the steaming mugs across the table toward me. “First, he would never instruct another to take your life.”

Curling my fingers around the handle of the coffee mug, I watched the creamy surface do a slow rotation while I waited for her to continue. She didn't, and when I raised my eyes, I knew it was because she wanted to be certain she had my full, and undivided, attention. “And the second?” I asked, barely able to get the words out.

“You would already be dead.”

Picking up the second mug, she turned and walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. I heard the front door open, followed by some murmuring, and then the door closed again. I tensed, still not completely believing in a vampire's inability to cross a threshold uninvited, but Anasztaizia returned alone, minus the mug of coffee. Seating herself across from me, she clasped her hands together and put them on the table.

“Aleksei has been sent by Gabriel, is true,” she began, “but not to hurt you, Rowan. He is here to protect you.”

It sounded suspiciously like a fox being asked to guard a henhouse.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because no one knows where Katja is.”

Ah, not a fox but a vixen. I pictured the gorgeous dark-haired vampire in my mind, seeing her push her dislocated shoulder back into place while her eyes burned with pure hatred. I'd tried telling myself it was just hot temper, something she would get over, but I knew that was a lie. The beautiful Goth Queen wanted to hurt me in the worst possible way. And she was more than capable of doing so. “Do you really think she'll come after me?” Part of me was absolutely terrified by the possibility, while another part was intrigued in an odd, academic way.

“Is difficult to say,” Anasztaizia replied with a shrug. “Katja has always had a bad temper. She is unpredictable.”

“So you've met her?”

“Only once, but it was enough.”

“Yeah, wish it had been only once for me.”

Reaching across the table, Anasztaizia patted the back of my hand. “I'm so sorry, and I wish, with all my heart, this was not happening to you.”

But it didn't change the fact that she was glad I knew the truth. It was something we now had in common. We were two humans who had crossed paths with vampires.

“Is she really that dangerous?” I asked, my hand tightening around the mug of coffee before me.

“Katja doesn't like being told she cannot have something, especially something she has set her heart on having. I think she has desired Gabriel for a long time.”

“Well, she can have him,” I declared hotly. “As far as I'm concerned, we're through!”

Sighing, the lovely blonde rearranged her hands so the left was now resting on top of the right. The enormous diamond caught the light, winking at me as if it had a secret it wanted to share.

“You are not being truthful, Rowan, and even if you were, it changes nothing.” She effectively halted any protest from me with a raised brow. “Gabriel wants you, and only you. Katja is humiliated by his rejection, especially as it happened in front of you. Pride will not let her forgive such an insult, or you for being what Gabriel desires.”

“You didn't hear me,” I said with a shake of my head that I instantly regretted.
“I don't want him.”

I didn't realize I was clenching my teeth until I felt an ache running along my jawline. It took a supreme effort, and the understanding that I was in danger of cracking a tooth, to relax the muscles in my face. Anasztaizia's look of frustrated disbelief wasn't exactly helpful. Neither was the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Rowan, dahlink, I heard you perfectly, but it is
you
who doesn't listen.” She tapped a well-manicured forefinger on the table for emphasis. “Gabriel is a vampire, and vampires do not give up those they claim for their own. They are the most possessive creatures to ever walk the earth. Whether you want to be or not, you are now a part of Gabriel's life, and he is not going to let you go. No matter what.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but snapped it shut without saying a word. I was too bewildered by the warmth her words had stirred up inside me. Gabriel wanted me, and only me. Why did I find that so reassuring?

I
t still sounded like a bad high school melodrama on TV—the head cheerleader getting all pissy because the captain of the football team was taking his geeky lab partner to the prom instead of her. I picked up my mug and almost got a lapful of hot coffee because my hands were shaking so much. I was grateful for Anasztaizia's steadying hold on my arm, even if I was nearly blinded by the door-knocker diamond.

I needed to take a step back. Sipping my coffee, I decided a change of subject was needed. Kind of like a time-out. Anasztaizia and I were both women, surely there was something else we could talk about? Something that didn't involve the opposite sex. Or vampires. I took another swig of coffee, and the tremble in my hand began to lessen. “This is really good,” I said, tapping a nail against the mug. “Is it from your restaurant?”

“No, it's a special blend I keep at home. It's Russian.”

“Russian?” I felt my forehead wrinkle. “I thought you were Hungarian.”

“I am, but my boyfriend is Russian. I keep the coffee for him.” Her gaze flickered toward the front door, and I almost fell off the chair as understanding crashed over me like a bucket of cold water.

No wonder Aleksei had gone to her instead of Gabriel. Sometimes I am so stupid!

“But—you're human!” I blurted out as if this might be news to her.

“Well . . . so are you.” Her eyebrows pulled together just enough to make her look worried.

“Yeah but, but . . . Aleksei . . . he's a—”

“Vampire, I know.” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she leaned toward me. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Rowan, but so is your boyfriend.” The worried look vanished as a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. She was teasing me, only I wasn't sure how to respond. “Rowan, I know this is difficult for you. This is why Aleksei came to me. He thought I could help, but first you must tell me what is problem.”

Excuse me? I wondered in how many other homes, around other kitchen tables, a similar conversation was being conducted. I was willing to bet it was a big, fat zero. We were talking about
vampires,
for God's sake, and Anasztaizia couldn't see what I was having a problem with? I sucked in a breath and forced myself to remain calm. She was only here to help, I reminded myself, and she was from another country, a different culture, so maybe she really didn't understand where I was coming from.

“Sorry, but I'm having difficulty getting my head around the fact that they kill people,” I said tersely. “And don't try telling me they don't—I know, I saw it.”

“Yes,” she agreed matter-of-factly, “what you say is true. Sometimes they do kill people, but I promise you they kill only very bad people.”

Oh wow, well that was a relief, except who decided what was bad enough to get your throat ripped out?

“And they drink blood,” I continued, “human people blood!”

I was starting to babble, and I saw Anasztaizia's expression turn slightly alarmed.

“They are vampires, so they do have to drink blood,” she agreed warily, “this you know. Of course human blood is better, but they can survive on animal blood if no other is available.” The doorknob diamond flashed as it moved across the table and came to a rest on the back of my hand. “Think of it like . . . um . . . a diabetic needing insulin,” she finished brightly.

“Diabetics don't kill people to get what they need,” I snapped coldly.

“Well . . . neither do vampires.”

One of us was very confused, or in a state of serious denial. Apparently Anasztaizia's relationship with the big guy outside my front door didn't include seeing him eat. At least not the essential part of his diet. She couldn't have, or else she would never have just said what she did. I knew what I'd seen. God knows I was never going to forget Gabriel puncturing that woman's neck with his fangs. I was about to contest her statement when it suddenly hit me that, in all honesty, I couldn't. While I had watched Gabriel inflict the wound, I hadn't actually seen him drink her blood.

The stain on his mouth and chest had occurred from the initial severing of the artery and the resulting subsequent struggle. In all truth, I'd not seen Gabriel put his mouth on her again. Anasztaizia curled her fingers around my hand, making it look for a moment as if I was the one wearing the enormous diamond.

“Rowan, vampires never feed from those they kill,” she said in a soothing singsong, “and they don't kill those from whom they feed.” The grip on my hand tightened imperceptibly as she slowly pushed aside the collar of her blouse with the other hand. My eyes were drawn to the creamy column of her neck, and I saw two small puncture marks centered inside the faint shadow of a bruise. “Aleksei fed from me earlier tonight. The mark will be gone by morning.”

Yanking my hand free, I jumped up and knocked over my chair. It was enough to make me forget the pain thumping in my head. “You let him do that to you?” I asked in a horrified gasp. “For God's sake . . .
why?
”

A brief flash of irritability crossed her face as she smoothed her collar back into place. “Why would I want him to use someone else?”

Any number of reasons sprang to mind as revulsion and fascination flowed through me, each fighting for the upper hand. My head was now swimming with a lot more than the effects of too much bourbon. A hole had been punched in the fabric of my understanding, one that was big enough to drive an eighteen-wheeler through. It was a hole I doubted could ever be patched.

Staring at the table, I saw the diamond winking at me from Anasztaizia's hand. The significance of the finger she was wearing it on hadn't occurred to me until now. Aleksei was a lot more than just a boyfriend. He was her fiancé. Jeez—was she actually going to
marry
him?

Rising from her seat, Anasztaizia started toward me, but I held up my hands, warding her off. “Please,” I begged, feeling the hard edge of the sink up against my butt, “stay where you are. I don't know if I can take any more.”

It really wasn't her fault. She was only trying to help me get a handle on the reality that had been forced on me. But the image of Aleksei, and those fangs, puncturing the creamy skin of Anasztaizia's neck was too much for me to take in. My brain was threatening to shut down completely.

Not wanting her to see how close I really was to losing it, I did an abrupt one-eighty and covered my face with my hands. As I pulled in a few shuddering breaths, I felt her hand making soothing circles on my back.

“I'm so sorry, Rowan,” she said softly. “I didn't mean to frighten you. Neither of us did. I forgot how difficult it must be to accept what I am telling you, what you have seen. It must be like a very bad movie. In my culture, stories of vampires are told in the nursery and so are very commonplace. It takes great trust to accept that what I am saying to you is true, but”—she gave my upper arms a light squeeze—“I swear to you, it is the truth.”

Something in her voice penetrated the chaos in my head, and I turned back around to face her. “How did you and . . .” I doubted she had met Aleksei through E-Harmony.

“As a young girl I ran away from home and ended up in Budapest with no money, no friends, and nowhere to stay. This is one of many mistakes I have made with my life.” She gave me a rueful smile and shook her head. “I was befriended by a girl named Marta, who said she could help me.”

“Anasztaizia, it's all right, you don't have to go on.” I didn't want to make her relive something she'd rather forget.

“No, it's okay. It was long time ago.”

Not that long, I thought to myself. If she wasn't my age, she only had me beat by a year or two.

“The first thing Marta did,” Anasztaizia continued, “was to give me to her boyfriend, who raped me. He raped all the new girls. It was how he broke them in.”

I gasped. Even though I had assumed whatever she told me was probably going to be bad, I hadn't expected that. “H-how old were you?”

“Fourteen.” She sat back down at the table, her hands in her lap. As she continued speaking, I noticed she played with the diamond ring on her finger, as if reminding herself she now lived a different life. “I had been prostitute for six months when I was saved.”

“Saved?” Somehow I didn't think she was talking about the biblical sense.

“The man I was with decided I hadn't been good enough, and he wanted his money back. I refused, so he hit me.” She gave me a different type of smile this time. “He only got to hit me once.”

“Aleksei?”

“Yes . . . Aleksei.”

“Did you know he was a vampire?”

Opening her mouth, she tapped a tooth. “Oh yes . . . I knew.” “And you weren't afraid?” I asked incredulously.

Her fingers stilled, and she gave me a look that I couldn't read. “Marta's boyfriend had already made sure I stopped being afraid. Of anything.”

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't imagine being forced into a life of prostitution at any age, much less fourteen. “So what happened next?”

“Aleksei took me home.”

“Home?” She'd been with him since she was fourteen? Apparently my expression told her what I was thinking.

“He took me back to my family, and made me promise to finish school.”

“But you saw him again, right?”

“Not in the way you are thinking.” Propping her elbow on the table, she cupped her chin in her hand. “When he came to see me, he was more like annoying big brother. He was not boyfriend. I was in love with him from first time I saw him, but Aleksei wanted me to know boys my own age . . . and my own kind. It took me some time to persuade him he was only male for me.” She gave me a wonderful, sunny smile. “He wouldn't even kiss me without my father's permission !”

“Really?” I was filled with an odd admiration at Aleksei's restraint. As lovely as Anasztaizia was now, I could only imagine how tempting she must have been when she was on the cusp of womanhood.

“Aleksei is very old-fashioned,” she said with a soft laugh, “even for a vampire.”

“Your parents,” I said hesitantly, “they didn't know, did they?”

“My mother, I think, did, although she did not say, and my father has suspected for some time. He wants me to be happy, and he knows Aleksei makes me happy.” That much was blatantly obvious.

I came and sat back down opposite her. “Does it hurt?” I blurted out.

“What?” The change of topic startled her.

I pointed at her neck. “Does it hurt when he . . .” I let my voice trail off, not certain I knew how to refer to such an intimate act.

Reaching across the table top, Anasztaizia took hold of my hands, gripping them lightly, her thumbs rubbing gently across my knuckles. “Are you sure this is what you want to know?” she asked gently.

No, I wasn't sure at all, but something inside me had been woken up, and it was saying I needed to know. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

“Very well,” she sighed and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “It only hurts first time,” she said quietly, “but I think that is because the mental struggle is hard to deal with. The physical part is much easier, but there is no way you can prepare for how you will feel.”

“What do you mean by mental struggle?”

“Before first time, Aleksei wanted me to know as much as I could about what was going to happen. Sometimes is better to know nothing. To just do and feel the experience, to, how you say . . . go with the flow?” Something she remembered made her lips curve upward in a private smile. “First time you will fight, but in the end that which is stronger will win.”

I couldn't imagine any situation where I would ever be stronger than Gabriel. And then I wondered why it would matter, because I also couldn't imagine him drinking my blood. Anasztaizia, guessing the path my mind was wandering on, set me straight.

“This is not about physical strength, Rowan. The fight will be inside your head.” She tapped her temple with her forefinger. “Blood is the life force of the body, it is not meant to be given to another. Not like this.”

“But people donate blood all the time,” I said, thinking about the latest Red Cross drive I'd seen advertised in the Sunday newspaper.

She laughed out loud. A wonderful sound that made everything she was saying easier to hear. “This is not quite the same thing.”

She was right. The difference between having a sterile needle put in my arm and Gabriel sinking his fangs into my neck were like night and day. The first felt like an almost philanthropic act, the other a violation.

“Never underestimate your own instinct for survival,” Anasztaizia continued. “You are being asked to go against your strongest urge, and to give freely what is most precious to you. Ignoring your own needs because your desire for another, and his needs, are stronger.” I swallowed and gently pulled my hands free of her grasp. It was a lot to take in. “How often do you . . . ?”

“Each vampire is different.” She made another graceful lift with her shoulders. “The older the vampire, the stronger he is, and the more control he has over the hunger.” She looked at me, her eyes frank with curiosity. “Gabriel has not yet tried to—”

“Oh my God—no!” My hand instinctively went to my throat. “Never!”

“Ah well . . . he is very strong.”

There was something in her tone, a sort of fatalistic inevitability that said this
was
going to happen to me, and the sooner I accepted it, the better. Either that or the amount of bourbon in my system was finally taking over and eighty-proof Tennessee whiskey was dulling my comprehensive reasoning.