Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) (17 page)

“I do not wish to be psychoanalyzed right now, Doctor. Just tell me who cloaked your mind.” His voice was deceptively calm but it sent terror ripples through my solar plexus.

There was no getting around it. I knew I’d have to tell him sooner or later. Might as well forge ahead. “It was Anne Boleyn,” I said, struggling to breathe through the miasma of dread saturating the air.

“I knew, of course, but I wanted you to tell me. Go on.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze intense, his words ominously quiet.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it, and I began gasping for breath. “Is there something you can do to ratchet down your predatory force field? My body’s so tense my throat’s choking up.”

He shut his eyes for a few seconds, and when he opened them, the tension decreased. Whatever had been pressing against my chest wasn’t gone, but it no longer felt life-threatening.

“Thank you.” I licked my dry lips.

“Please continue.”

I had to swallow several times before I could speak, and while I worked out what I was going to say to him next, I kept my eyes firmly focused on his forehead. His gaze had mesmerized me many times in the past, and I wasn’t about to lose myself again. Anne had warned me that his strong vampire energy could chip away at her clearing, and I didn’t want that.

“After you left me with Anne at the wedding, she mentioned that vampires alter human brains physiologically without intending to. I told her I’d noticed I felt less … spacey, intoxicated while you were recovering from Bryce’s ritual. She said that was to be expected because your power wasn’t flooding my brain to the same degree while you were unconscious. She was surprised I could even remember my name. She knew as soon as she met me that I’d been having a lot of headaches. Which, by the way, you didn’t notice.” I coughed to clear my throat. “She scared me.”

Devereux leaped up and circled the room. “That is ridiculous,” he said, gesturing expansively.

His anger flared out like a wildfire, and I recoiled without meaning to. I’d never instinctively cringed in his presence before. The fact that he was acting so unlike the Devereux I knew both frightened and confused me. Apparently things had deteriorated pretty badly in the Master’s world.

“I told you I am in complete control of my abilities. No harm can come to you. Anne has a tendency to be a troublemaker, and she is still holding a grudge.” The pain was back in his voice again as he added, “You should not have listened to her. Apparently you do not trust me.”

My arms broke out in chills, and I rubbed them. “It isn’t a matter of trust. I believe her when she says you don’t know how negatively you’re affecting me. You never intend to hurt me, but you do.”

He looked shocked at that. “I would never hurt you. You are the most important person in the world to me. I have dedicated myself to protecting you, to keeping you safe.”

“I know, and I’m sure you mean well, but being around you all the time changes my brain in negative ways. Anne removed the accumulated vampire influence and somehow made me more difficult to read. I’m myself again for the first time in more than two months.” I didn’t share my intention to find a way to keep my brain clear. Did I really think Devereux would try to sabotage me?

He strode to the front of the desk and stood there, hands on hips. “What did Anne do, specifically, to block my access to your thoughts? If you describe it to me I will undoubtedly recognize the method. She is quite gifted in creating new techniques but I am equally skilled at deciphering them. Trying to read you now is like floating through thick fog. I wish to undo it.”

Like hell!
“I don’t want you to undo it—I prefer having my mind clear. Are you saying you only want to be around me if you can read and control me? What kind of relationship is that?”

“Of course not.” His expression was disgusted. “But in order to protect you, I must have access to your mind. It is not safe for you otherwise. Stop being difficult, Kismet. I insist you tell me what she did.”

“Difficult? You insist? You don’t care if my brain is altered, harmed, just as long as you have what you want?”

He paced, his platinum hair swinging. “As usual, you are interpreting the situation in a limited way. As soon as we have restored our usual connection, all will be well, you will see.” He turned to me, his eyes narrowed again. His voice held a razor’s edge. “And what did you mean, you will see Alan in New York on Wednesday?”

So many emotions swelled up inside me that I couldn’t speak. Anger that Devereux refused to see my point of view, sadness because he was apparently willing to sacrifice my brain to achieve his mysterious goals, and despair that what he’d called love felt like anything but. And still, even in the face of all those feelings, part of me knew he wasn’t himself—he’d been pushed beyond his limits. Regardless, I couldn’t let him bully me. He wasn’t
my
Master.

“I meant exactly what I said.” I sucked in a deep breath, steeling myself for more of his unleashed rage. I calmly rose from behind my desk and walked over to stand in front of him. I fixed my gaze on the space between his eyes. “I’m going to the American Psychological Association’s yearly conference. I’ve attended for years. Alan wants to meet me there.”

He was deathly quiet for a few heartbeats. The hairs on my arms rose, and my stomach contracted. Then he laughed.

“I am going to assume you are joking, because you know I would never allow you to leave Denver without me while Lucifer is at large.” He sat on the arm of the couch again and folded his hands on his lap, as if he wasn’t holding on to his temper by his fingernails. “But I do appreciate your attempt to lighten my mood.”

Wow. I could write an entire series of books about Devereux’s narcissism.
If anyone would believe such an extreme case, that is.
Were all vampires so self-centered? Just master vampires? Where was the line between confidence and arrogance? Devereux had definitely obliterated the distinction.

“You would never
allow
me to leave Denver?” I asked, struggling to keep the pain and fury out of my voice. I clasped my hands together behind my back to prevent them from shaking. Disappointment swamped me. Maybe everything really had been a lie. “You actually believe you get to write my script? That I’ll continue to
allow
you to manipulate me now that I’m free? You’re too intelligent an individual to cling to such ludicrous ideas.”

Devereux exploded. At least that’s what it looked like. He thrust his fists into the air as he moved like a blur across the room and a wounded-animal sound burst from his lips. He stood staring at me, his hair covering half of his face, the predatory energy once again exploding against my chest like a heat blast.

I clutched my throat, gasping for air. My heartbeat pounded double—no, triple-time—against my ribs. My knees gave way, and I sank to the floor. Sweat trickled down my sides. I knew I was close to losing consciousness.

“Kismet!” And then I was in his arms. He sat me on the couch, said a word I couldn’t understand, and, as before, the crushing heaviness in my chest lightened. I sank into the cushions, willed my heart rate to slow, and tried to make sense of the last few minutes.

A headache pulsed behind my left eye. The throbbing reminded me of how I’d felt before Anne’s clearing, and I suddenly feared Devereux had broken through. Almost panicking, it took a few seconds before I could restart the inner vibration. Keeping my eyes open, I centered myself and hummed silently. After a few seconds more I
heard
the strange sounds Cerridwyn “uploaded” into my unconscious again. As I breathed, my brain waves shifted from beta to theta and soon the headache receded.

Okay. I’m still me—I hope—for now.

Even though I’d succeeded at bringing my mind back into a calm state, under my control, I still felt numb. All my assumptions about Devereux had evaporated in the face of his dissonant behaviors. He needed help, and I was pretty sure he’d never ask for it. And even if he did ask for my help, being with him had serious physiological downsides for me. But I couldn’t abandon him when he needed me. I didn’t know what to do. There were just no easy answers.

He strode to the window and stared out for several minutes, then turned to me, once again the elegant, rational man I’d thought him to be. “I understand you are worried about my
alleged
negative effect on your brain, but I can assure you there is no cause for distress.” He moved to the couch and sat next to me. His expression went flat, all emotions locked down. “After I catch Lucifer and he is no longer a threat to you or my coven, we will discuss your concerns. And in the meantime, you must remain here in Denver where I can have my vampires keep watch over you. You will simply have to miss this year’s conference.”

He spoke as if he took for granted his orders would be followed, that I’d acquiesce to his commands.

As I listened, the numb feeling rapidly morphed into resentment and outrage. Devereux’s expectation of my subservience brought back every awful memory of the various men—starting with my father—who’d decided they could determine what I should do or say or feel. Every situation where I’d allowed myself to be disempowered, manipulated. I fought the urge to lash out—to punch his gorgeous nose—but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He’d probably find me amusing.

“I’ll have to miss the conference? You seriously think that’s going to happen?”

He reached over and patted my hand, having completely missed the sarcasm in my tone. “Yes. It is for the best under the circumstances. You will have to trust my judgment. I will always take care of you.”

I was stunned speechless.

Taking my silence as acceptance, he rose effortlessly from the couch and gave a quick bow. “I do not know when I will be able to see you again, but you may rest assured you are surrounded by protection at all times. Lucifer will be contained.” He leaned down to kiss me, and I pressed a hand against his chest.

“No.”

He jerked up in surprise, and my hand fell away.

“Your complete disregard for my needs and desires has become intolerable. I never thought things would end this way, but don’t worry about when you’ll get around to seeing me because I don’t want to see you. Not only am I going to the conference, but I’m reassessing my involvement with vampires across the board. Including you.” I rose from the couch, moved to my desk, and sat on one corner, strangely calm. “You need to respect my wishes, whether you want to or not. I’m exploring options for protecting my mind, and I can’t be around a vampire as powerful as you until I’m stronger. If you care about me at all, you’ll honor my request and leave me alone.”

Yet again, the emotions he’d stifled flared out, and I felt myself drowning in the deluge.

He kept his voice tightly controlled. “It is precisely because I care about you that I will do whatever it takes to protect you. I do not want you to go to New York.” A frightened expression flashed like lightning across his face. “Nor do I wish you to spend time with Alan Stevens. We will discuss your concerns as soon as possible, but you are not to leave. I will see you as soon as I can.”

He vanished.

What the hell?
I stared at the empty space where Devereux had been.

As soon as he dematerialized, the fearful energy dissipated and the concrete blocks crushing my chest disappeared.

My head spun.
What just happened?
I returned to the couch, kicked my shoes off, and stretched out along its length.

Was Devereux having some kind of emotional breakdown? If I took a clinical step back, reclaimed some distance as a psychologist, I could see the signs of instability. He’d asked if I was disrespecting him like everyone else, yet he didn’t share any of his pain with me, the woman he claimed to love. The situation with Lucifer had obviously caused Devereux to decompensate. What the hell would happen to one of the most powerful vampires in the world if his meltdown continued? Not to mention the consequences for those around him while it was happening.

Thinking about his outrageous mood swings made me feel guilty. Maybe I should’ve put aside my personal feelings and listened to him with my therapeutic ears, insisted he talk to me. But that was the problem with a therapist treating those she’s close to: no objectivity. Too much counter-transference and projection. There was no way I could see Devereux clearly. My own expectations, patterns, and beliefs got in the way.

With a start, I realized I hadn’t told him about the therapist murders. I’d been so overwrought by his unnatural behavior that I’d forgotten all about it. But if I did tell him, he might do something other than verbally forbid me to prevent me from going to the conference. I knew he meant well but I couldn’t allow him—or anyone else—to control me anymore. No matter what. I had to figure out things for myself.

Suddenly everything felt too heavy. Too big. Too much. I closed my eyes to block out the memory of Devereux’s frightened expression and the conference issue, and dropped into an exhausted sleep.

Chapter 10

The sound of the wind rattling my office windows as it roared down from the mountains woke me from my restless sleep.

I sat up and looked around, disoriented. Why had I spent the night in my office? The question had barely solidified when the answer coalesced.

Devereux’s meltdown and his strange behavior.

Tears formed in my eyes, and I blinked to clear them away. My heart ached for his pain. I grieved for what I thought we’d had—for the lie it turned out to be. I plucked a tissue from the box on the table and loudly blew my nose. I sat up and straightened my clothes, trying to get a grip on myself, and gave myself a good talking to. “He’s the one who didn’t care if my brain melted out through my ears. At least the control issue came to a head quickly, before I became even more enmeshed in his horrifying world. How irrational of me to think I could just step into a bizarre alternative reality and expect to navigate it.”

With a deep breath I forced myself up from the couch. “No time to wallow in emotions! Too much to do! I can’t let the fact that he doesn’t care about me ruin my life.” I hadn’t taken even one step before my knees gave out and I immediately collapsed back into the cushions.