A Vampire's Soul (6 page)

An odd snorting sound made both Anasztaizia and me stare at Aleksei. Covering his mouth with a hand, he seemed to be giving his full attention to the floor, fascinated by the patterned linoleum. Unfortunately, having shoulders as big as his was sometimes a liability. I could tell he was trying not to laugh by the shaking motion they made. I looked at Anasztaizia, who spread her hands and shrugged in bewilderment, as puzzled by the big guy's reaction as I was.

“What's so funny?” I asked when he finally raised his head and looked at both of us.

His mouth continued to twist in a humorous smirk. “You think Vladimir is aristocrat.”

I didn't think it was that funny, but what did I know about vampire humor? “From your reaction, I guess it's fairly safe to assume he's not, then?”

Clarification was delivered with a deep rumbling chuckle. “Son of goat herder from Carpathian Mountains.”

I still didn't think it was
that
funny.

“Why would you think it was Vladimir who turned Katja?” Anasztaizia asked curiously.

“When I asked Katja if he was her father, she said
in a way,
so I just sort of assumed . . .” I let my voice trail off, acutely aware of the other definition of the word
assume
.

“Well, he is,
in a way
,” Aleksei said, generously coming to my rescue. “Vladimir is the one who asked for Katja to be turned. He was guardian.”

“She needed a guardian?”

He nodded. “Yes, it was his responsibility to see her through the transition, then help her to live as vampire.”

“And is the guardian always a male?” I asked curiously.

“Not always. A female can be guardian.”

Who would have thought equal rights were alive and well, and had very sharp teeth? “You said Vladimir asked for Katja to be made a vampire.” I could see Aleksei's eyes gleaming with interest as he wondered what I would inquire about next. “Is a request to turn a human ever denied?”

“Sometimes.” He sounded hesitant. “If there is good reason.”

“Such as?”

“Instability.”

I thought I'd misheard him, or misunderstood. Katja didn't strike me as being exactly level-headed. In all fairness, I had no idea what her personality had been like as a human, but I was willing to bet the basic fundamentals hadn't really changed. Still, I felt like Aleksei was leaving something out.

“Can a person change their mind? Do they have any say in this?”

“Of course.” The big guy looked faintly annoyed with me. “They can always refuse, but I have never heard it happening.”

No, I just bet he hadn't. Saying
no
to a vampire didn't seem like much of a choice at all. I sat for a few minutes, toying with my rapidly cooling mug of coffee, as my mind ran through everything I'd just been told. I wanted to be certain I had the order of events straight.

“So only a human with the proper recessive gene, and who wants to be turned, can be made into a vampire.” Aleksei nodded and seemed quite pleased that I'd caught on fairly quickly. “But they can be turned only by an Original Vampire, one of the Fallen, right? And Gabriel and this other vampire—Ryiel—they're both Fallen . . . so how many are there?”

“How many what?” Anasztaizia asked, her eyes shining brightly.

“How many Fallen?”

“Nine.”

“What happened to the rest of them?”

“The rest of who?” Now it was Aleksei's turn to ask.

“The Fallen. Nine doesn't seem like an awful lot. Weren't there more of them?”

He shook his head and looked puzzled. I was guessing no one had ever considered this before. “No. There have only ever been nine,” he stated emphatically.

My life was rolling down a path where everything was a lot more complicated than what I'd known before. I had no idea where exactly a Fallen existed within the vampire hierarchy, but it seemed to me that it was pretty high up. I hadn't failed to catch the reverence in Aleksei's voice when he said the word “Fallen.”

I fixed my gaze on the Santa and Mrs. Claus salt and pepper shakers, standing guard on either side of a wedge of holly-printed paper napkins. Time passed. It could have been a minute or fifteen or fifty before Anasztaizia's gentle voice broke the silence.

“Rowan, is there anything else we can tell you?”

Breaking my trance, I smiled at her before bringing my gaze back to Aleksei's scarred face. “Yeah,” I said slowly, “how do you kill a vampire?”

I
f revealing vampire secrets made Aleksei uncomfortable, then the idea of sharing information on this particular topic turned him downright prickly. I couldn't really blame him, I suppose, but it did make me wonder just how broad a directive Gabriel had given him. From the look on his face, if I hadn't crossed a line yet, then my toes were dangerously close to the edge.

The vampire's face turned cold, his eyes steely, and I felt a shiver go down my back, the kind my father always said meant someone was walking over your grave. As a smart-mouthed teenager I'd been quite scornful of all my father's favorite sayings, and this one was no exception. How would anyone know where I was going to be buried? What if I decided on being cremated instead, with my ashes scattered at sea? Did that mean instead of people walking over my grave, a school of dolphins was now swimming through the area? Such a possibility still ranks very high on my
Way Cool
chart.

I'm pretty sure the temperature in the kitchen dropped a few degrees as Aleksei asked, “You want to know how to kill a vampire?”

Not trusting my voice, I nodded. The sudden warmth of his smile took me completely by surprise. All I could assume was that he had forgotten I was human and, to his mind, a physically inferior species. Perhaps my sudden inability to speak had reminded him. At any rate he obviously decided there was no harm in telling me. What was I going to do with the information? It wasn't like I was ever going to be able to actually put into practice anything he told me. Every vampire I'd met so far could flatten me with one hand tied behind his or her back. Including Vladimir, the not-so-aristocratic matinee idol.

As it turns out, killing a vampire isn't that easy.

“So, the whole stake-through-the-heart thing isn't true?” Aleksei's scornful laugh was enough of a reply in itself. “Vampires cannot be killed like that. Is stupid fairy tale.”

“Why not?” Curiosity got the better of me. “I mean, you do have a heart, right?”

It was a pointless question because I already knew the answer. I'd been lulled to sleep by the steady, rhythmic beat of Gabriel's heart on more than one occasion, and I wasn't about to forget those other times when it went all jackhammer in his chest, usually as he was coming. I suspect most women get an incredible rush knowing they can evoke this type of physical response in a man. Knowing I could do this to a vampire was suddenly a hundred times more delicious.

“Yes, I have a heart,” Aleksei said, “but becoming vampire makes other changes.”

“That recessive gene again,” I said with a smile.

He grinned back and tapped his sternum with the tips of his fingers. “Is true. It protects heart with muscle that is very strong.”

“Strong enough to stop a knife?”

“You want to try?” he challenged me.

It was Anasztaizia's lack of reaction that told me it was a fruitless challenge on my part, even though I was tempted for maybe half a second or so. “Just asking,” I said with a nervous, shaky laugh.

“The only sure way to kill a vampire is to cut off head and burn body.” He emphasized the point with a dramatic slashing gesture across his throat.

“Is that the only way?” I asked, because if there was a psycho-vampire bitch out to get me I wanted to be sure I had all the bases covered. Just in case.

Aleksei shrugged. “Well, there is also staking out in sun.”

“Does the sun have to be shining or will plain daylight do?”

He stared at me with suspicion. “Why do you want to know this?”

“Because sometimes having the proper information can make all the difference,” I told him. “So, which is it?”

“Daylight is for weakening, sunlight for burning.” He leaned forward, his expression almost gleeful. “But I should tell you no human can kill a vampire. Only one vampire can kill another vampire.”

The superiority of his tone was just a little too smug for my liking. It explained why he'd suddenly overcome his initial reluctance to answer me. I was no threat to any vampire whatsoever. And that really pissed me off. Granted, I could see how decapitation might prove a little tricky for someone not blessed with homicidal, maniacal tendencies—as well as a very big axe—but I was infuriated at how easily he dismissed the resourcefulness of the human race.

“You don't think a human could stake a vampire out in the sunlight?” I asked, pursing my lips.

Aleksei adopted the kind of exaggerated patience rarely seen outside of a first-grade classroom. “First you must catch vampire and overpower him, something you have not the skill or strength to do. Even the weakest vampire will always be stronger than the strongest human.”

It took me a minute before I realized he wasn't being a condescending asshole, he was just stating facts, and respecting me enough to be bluntly honest. I notched down my irritation, trying not to let it cloud my thinking.

“But what about crosses, holy water, and garlic?” I asked. “Couldn't those be used to subdue a vampire?” The look on Aleksei's face said his estimation of my IQ had just crashed through the floor. “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled, “I'm guessing they don't have any effect, do they?”

“No silver chains or bullets either,” he added helpfully.

“I thought silver was only for werewolves.”

He scratched his chin, thinking. “So I have also been told, but I never met anyone who killed a werewolf, so I don't know if such a thing is true.”

The kitchen tilted slightly. Not enough to disturb anything. The cabinet doors didn't swing open, and my mug didn't try to slide into my lap, but it was enough of a nudge to tell me my reality had just slipped a little further.

“Are you saying . . . werewolves are real?”

“Of course.” The corner of Aleksei's mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a grin. “And I'll tell you something else humans have wrong—they don't change because of moon.”

Was this something I absolutely had to know? Of course it was. “So, why do they change?”

“Bad temper.”

The grin he'd been trying to contain refused to be held back.
Do vampires ever need to floss?
I pondered as the impressive display of his teeth dazzled me. I doubted they went to the dentist, but hey, you never know.

“All werewolves have bad temper,” Aleksei continued, his voice bringing me back to the here and now. “Actually, now I think about it, all shape-shifters have bad tempers.”

“You would too if changing broke every bone in your body,” Anasztaizia interjected.

I stared at her. “All . . . shape-shifters . . .” I muttered, gripping the edge of the table with both hands.

“Sure.” Aleksei nodded and seemed very pleased with himself. “Werewolves are just one kind.”

I told myself he was only giving me information he thought would be beneficial to my overall well-being. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure how to categorize this particular brand of helpfulness. The only way I could control a sudden attack of the shakes was to sit on my hands. The last thing I needed was for Aleksei to see just how badly I was rattled. It was hard enough accepting the existence of vampires. Other supernatural creatures were going to have to wait their turn.

I had the dismal realization I would be no match for Katja in a physical fight. In truth, I'd known that after seeing her take on Gabriel, but I'd been optimistic that Aleksei might reveal a possible vampire weakness. Anything that would give me an edge if I ever needed it. Now I realized that if Katja was truly determined to get to me, there was nothing I could do to stop her. Except stay in my house. Suddenly the idea of Aleksei being able to cross my threshold was rather comforting.

“I guess it's safe to assume that you're not immortal, then?”

“Nothing is immortal, Rowan,” Anasztaizia said in a soft voice. “Everything will die. Even vampires.”

“Then I don't get it. I thought the whole attraction of being a vampire was the chance to live forever.”

“Is that what you would want to do?” Aleksei asked, giving me an unfathomable look. “Live forever?”

“I don't know,” I backpedaled hastily. “It's not something I've spent much time thinking about.”

“Well, it's not something a vampire can give you.”

Somewhere close to midnight I managed to persuade Aleksei he needed to take Anasztaizia home. I promised him, cross my heart and hope to die, that I would be perfectly all right by myself. As long as the rule about vampires crossing thresholds was true, then I was safe. Katja had never been invited inside my house, and couldn't cross any threshold, front or back, uninvited.

“Don't underestimate her, Rowan,” Aleksei warned as he helped Anasztaizia put her coat on. “If she comes here, she will try to get you to let her in. Like most females, she is very cunning.”

“I get it, really I do, but unless she can hypnotize me into saying
come into my house,
there's no way she's getting through the door.” I paused as I realized what I'd just said. “Uh, she can't do that . . . can she?”

“No,” Aleksei said with a shake of his head, “and female vampires must have physical contact to cross a threshold. Words alone are not enough.” He frowned, thinking about something. “She might pretend to be injured,” he told me.

“Why would she do that?”

“To get your sympathy. If you thought she had a twisted”—he pronounced it
tvisted,
which made me smile—“ankle, you might think her weak and let her in inside. All she would need is to hold your hand, yes?” He winked and gave me a sly smile. “Why do you think bride is carried over threshold?”

My mouth dropped open. That thought had never actually occurred to me, and I didn't know if Aleksei was teasing me, but I wondered how many grooms would gladly chuck that tradition right out the window if there was any truth in the vampire's words. Shaking my head, I assured the big guy I wasn't going to open the door for anyone. At all.

“Not even for me?” he teased.

“Why would I need to? You've been given an invitation, and I know you can open locks.”

It was obviously the right answer because Aleksei looked very pleased with himself. And me. Now I had two vampires who could come and go in my house whenever they pleased. Of course, I wasn't sure if Gabriel was going to make use of the privilege again. Or if I even wanted him to.

Of course you do,
my inner bitch whispered silkily in my head.
Not only can he tell you all the things Aleksei won't, but I know you're nowhere near done with that body of his . . . not yet . . . admit it.

I wanted to snap out something cutting to shut her up, but my sarcasm well was currently dry.

“Come, we must let Rowan rest.” Anasztaizia bent to kiss my cheek. “This has been a difficult day for her.”

That was putting it mildly.

Taking Aleksei's hand, she steered him toward the front door, something I found oddly reminiscent of a bear being led around a circus ring by the trainer's beautiful assistant. It didn't take much imagination to picture Anasztaizia in a sparkly costume with feathers in her hair.

“Lock door,” Aleksei instructed once he and Anasztaizia were on the other side, feet planted on my ho-ho-ho mat.

Even though I knew he had my best interests at heart, I wasn't completely helpless. I was smart enough to lock a door, although I wasn't really sure how much good it would do. What was to prevent Katja, with her own set of lock-picking skills, from opening it and throwing in a couple of tear gas grenades? Or regular grenades, come to think of it.

“Remember, not every vampire can open a locked door,” Anasztaizia reminded me.

“It is a skill Katja never acquired,” Aleksei added.

“Are you both reading my mind now?” I asked.

Aleksei gave me a sly look. “You play poker?”

“Not really,” I said shaking my head, “I'm not very good at reading cards.”

“Problem is with face,” he chuckled, “not cards.”

I refused to believe I was guilty of broadcasting my emotions so openly. If my face betrayed my feelings, especially now, then the stress of the past twenty-four hours was surely responsible. But hearing that Katja did not possess lock-picking skills made me feel better. And judging from the smile Aleksei gave me, my face hadn't been shy about broadcasting this.