Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) (40 page)

I frowned at him, not wanting to ruin our new beginning or argue with him in front of the others, but I couldn’t disguise the fact that I felt angry about whatever he was keeping from me.

“I do not have to read your mind to know you are upset with me about Michael. Come.” He pointed to the adjacent library. “Let us speak in private. I will disclose everything. I told Alan earlier there was only one thing I had not explained to you yet, and this is it.”

Okay. That’s consistent with what I heard back at Alan’s hotel room.

We sat on a love seat in front of a giant aquarium filled with exotic fish. Remembering what Zephyr had said about the importance of practicing the sound magic Cerridwyn taught me around strong vampires, I rehearsed the hum. Since I’d apparently decided to stay in the world of vampires, I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by Devereux’s innate energy—or anyone else’s—anymore.

“Why did Michael call you ‘Master’? How does he even know you?”

He stared at the fish for a few seconds. “He calls me Master because it is appropriate for him to do so. He is a member of my coven.”

“Your coven? Are you saying Michael is a vampire?” I jumped up from the seat and circled around the aquarium. “No way. I couldn’t have missed sensing a vampire that close to me. And besides, I saw him eat and drink human food.”

Devereux remained seated, relaxing into the cushions as if the story could take a while. “I masked his energy. Michael is an aberration, neither vampire nor human.”

I stood over him, my hands clasped behind my back to keep me from throwing something. “I’ve never heard of any such thing. You’re making that up!”
No! No more madness!

“Unfortunately, it is very real. You will find that there are many things you have not yet heard of. No doubt you
do
remember hearing that the transformation process does not always go easily or well. Many do not survive. Michael, for lack of a better explanation, got
stuck
in the middle of the process.”

“How is that possible? As far as I understand, if someone doesn’t survive the transformation, they die.”

“Usually that is the case, but there have been rare occurrences of this particular outcome. Michael was attacked by a client who left afterward, thinking he’d merely feasted, and the mortal would die. The vampire in question, who had a bad habit of leaving drained human bodies lying around for the authorities to find, was already being followed by members of my coven who keep track of such things. After disposing of the offending vampire, they found Michael, almost dead, and brought him to me. We gave him a blood transfusion in an attempt to retain his humanity.”

“Whoa. You routinely give humans blood transfusions?”

“Yes. It is often necessary. I did not know until Michael regained consciousness, and I read his memories, that he had been bitten repeatedly many years earlier when he was a teenager. At that time he was saved by the quick actions of paramedics and another transfusion he received at the hospital. During both attacks, because he had fought back as long as he could, he ingested small amounts of vampire blood. That, when blended with all the additional human blood he was given, created the half-creature he became.”

“Seriously? But he seems so human. Is he always going to be … stuck?”

“No. He is becoming one of us. He needs to drink blood—vampire and human—and he can no longer go out in the daylight. Although he can still remain awake during the day if he wishes, he becomes lethargic. He can eat solid food, but it does not agree with him. It is impossible for him to be fully human again, so he has asked to become completely vampire, and he is transitioning slowly in that direction.”

“Wait.” I plopped onto the couch. “Are you saying that Michael actually was a psychologist? That wasn’t just something he lied about to get close to me?”

“Indeed. That was not a fabrication. It is probably the only thing he told you that is true. He got a little carried away with the pretenses he created for you and Alan.”

“You think? So what was the plan? Have him befriend me so he could spy on me for you?”

“No, not
spy
on you—rather, keep watch over you and provide you with another human—a fellow professional—you could talk to. I know how difficult it is for you to be the only human among so many vampires.”

“Well, he wasn’t very helpful, was he?”

“No, I suppose not. But sending him to you was as much for his benefit as for yours.”

“And how’s that?”

“Michael is not in control of himself enough to work in his chosen field now. He cannot spend unsupervised time with humans, and vampires are dead to the world during the day. He was behaving like a bored child, so I thought it wise to give him something constructive to do. Since both you and Alan have extra protections, I hoped it would be safe for him to spend time with you.” He stroked a finger along my cheek, then leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. “I did not mean to deceive you.”

I gazed into his blue-green eyes and wanted to believe him. “I hope that’s true.”

“I realize it will take time for you to trust me and I am willing to do whatever it takes.”

“No matter how long?”

“No matter.” He grinned. “Time is something I have plenty of.”

“Would you mind if we change the subject for a moment?”

“Of course not.”

“What’s going on with Lucifer?”

Devereux looked away for a few seconds before returning his attention to me. He was obviously still uncomfortable with the topic.

“Dracul told me why Lucifer is interested in me,” I continued. “I remind the Brother Luther personality of his wife.”

“Yes. Zephyr informed me about the content of your discussion with Dracul. I am glad the Dragon chose to be helpful.” He frowned. “That is not always the case. In fact, it is amazing that he was so cooperative, as he has recently become so radical in his opinions. It is good to finally know the reason why the demented bloodsucker is so obsessed with you.”

“And you’ve had trouble catching him because something is missing from his brain.”

His eyes narrowed. “How do you know that? Who told you?”

“Luna. Why? Didn’t you want me to know?”

“I had informed everyone that I would be the one to tell you that.”

Yes! Maybe he’ll be so upset at his snarly assistant for flapping her lips that he’ll get rid of her. Yeah, right. That’ll happen.

“But you are correct. Lucifer lacks consciousness. I have never encountered anything like it. It is as if he is simply not there. Normally it is easy for me to get a fix on a particular vampire’s—or human’s—wavelength, for lack of a better word, and to immediately zero in on them. With Lucifer, it is as if his essence is cloaked. Or gone.”

“I don’t understand what he’s doing. I can’t see the pattern. How did he get so powerful? Dracul said Lucifer isn’t that old.”

“He is insane. You know better than anyone how incomprehensible a lost mind is. There is probably no rhyme or reason at all to what he is doing.”

“I’m not sure I agree with that. He obviously has some kind of plan. No doubt a nonsensical plan—a depraved plan—but a plan nonetheless, something that makes sense in his bizarre reality. Why is he killing psychologists? I get the obvious association, but why would he bother? I can’t imagine what purpose could be served by their deaths. Is he acknowledging my line of work? Trying to eliminate what he perceives as competition? I don’t understand the point of killing random dark-haired female psychologists.”

“I think he’s just acting out every loose association that enters his feeble brain. If you were a construction worker, he’d be offing them.” Alan strode into the room carrying a steaming mug, pulled a chair over from a nearby desk, and sat at my end of the love seat. The shadows underneath his eyes had darkened even more, and his lids looked heavy.

“Hey, you look tired. Maybe you should go and lie down for a little while,” I said.

“I
am
tired. Being up all night is finally catching up with me. But no nap. Too much to do.” Alan lifted his mug. “Strong coffee’s the answer.”

“How is your mother?” Devereux asked.

“She’s doing as well as can be expected. She and Ass-wipe—”

“Ass-wipe?” The words sounded comical in Devereux’s precise European-accented English.

“That’s what Alan calls Michael. They aren’t getting along very well.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, she and
Michael
went into the kitchen to scare up some food for the humans. Busy work to help her cope.” Alan sipped from his mug.

“Food! How thoughtless of me,” Devereux said. “I forgot that Olivia and Michael would need nourishment.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them. “I have instructed my staff to bring a few donors for them.”

“Ass-wipe’s a
vampire
?” Alan nearly fell off his chair. “What?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I’ll fill you in about that later.”

“I knew there was something off about that guy but I never would’ve guessed he was a vampire. Damn—I’m losing my edge.”

“No, you’re not. So, back to Lucifer. You don’t think there’s any special significance to him killing the psychologists?”

“Not in any normal way,” Alan said, “but he might be presenting them as gifts for you, as I believe he did with Jack Kent. I’ve interviewed human serial killers who did the same thing.”

“Michael told me you met the journalist who had been stalking you.” Devereux stretched his arm out along the back of the love seat. “We have had surveillance on him since October.”

My jaw tightened. “You knew he was following me, and you didn’t say anything?” I felt myself getting angry all over again.

“I know.” He sighed. “I must take full responsibility for the lapse in judgment. I considered him harmless, and he actually
was
, but he became a nuisance. You are correct—I should have told you. I had intended to alter his memories at some point and make him forget about you. I am afraid he got lost in the chaos. I apologize.” He dropped his hand onto my shoulder, pulled me against him, and kissed my cheek.

Alan scowled.

“Hmmm.” What good would it do me to be angry? He’d apologized, and his explanation made sense. Being upset required too much energy. “Okay. I forgive you.”

“Thank you.” He kissed me again and looked at Alan, ignoring or disregarding his glare. “You believe Lucifer killed Mr. Kent and placed him in Kismet’s bed as a sick gift? An offering?”

“Kismet?”

We all looked toward the new voice.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” Olivia stood at the entrance to the library wearing a frilly red apron over her dress, dark mascara streaks lining her pale cheeks. “I would be happy to bring you something.”

“Coffee would be great, Olivia,” I said. “Thank you.”

She smiled and headed back to the kitchen.

We were all silent for a moment, out of respect for Olivia’s pain. Then Alan returned his attention to Devereux and picked up the conversation where they’d left it. “It’s possible he offered the bodies as gifts. But I’m confused about why he’d kill the vampires holding Colin. Since he always seems to be hovering around whatever’s going on, why did he wait to step in until Colin had been snuffed? Why not before?”

Devereux shook his head. “Madness has no reason.”

“Or maybe we just can’t see his whole plan from our vantage point.” I scrunched down to rest my head against the top of the cushion. “It’s possible he wanted to make sure we would have to come over here and comfort Olivia.”

“What do you mean?” Alan straightened in the chair, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Devereux and me. “Do you think Lucifer’s watching my mother?”

“Thanks to the power of his sire, he appears to have an almost mystical ability to be everywhere at once, and his primitive skills are amazing,” Devereux answered. “I would like to say that my spellcasting is keeping your mother safe, but I have come to believe that Lucifer’s lack of a coherent psyche keeps him from being compelled by magic.”

“Well, that sucks,” Alan said, looking at me. “And why the hell did he kill the psychologist in the hotel?” He set his mug on a nearby table. “Did he just roll the vampiric dice or throw a dart at the conference roster?”

“Shit! I forgot to even check the name of the victim.”

“It was Doctor Patricia Kraft. Long, dark hair. She was on the APA board.”

I bolted upright and opened my mouth. “No!”

“What is it?” they both said simultaneously.

“I found out the first day I arrived that Pat Kraft was the only member of the conference committee who voted against my presentation topic. She said it reflected badly on the organization, that I wasn’t the kind of psychologist she wanted representing the APA.”

“So there was some connection to you.” Devereux relaxed back against the cushions and folded his hands in his lap. “That is interesting. Perhaps the monster simply overheard her expressing an anti-Kismet opinion and took action.”

“What do you know, Doctor Knight?” Alan said. “Looks like you’ve got your own personal avenger.”

“That’s horrible. But it also makes me wonder why he hasn’t tried to kill you or Devereux or even Michael. If he’s acting out his jealousy, why hasn’t he targeted the men who are around me the most? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe he hasn’t been able to get us alone long enough,” Alan suggested.

“I doubt if that would have stopped him, had he wanted to kill you,” Devereux answered.

“I agree. He could’ve just popped in, incapacitated you and Michael, sucked you both dry, and been off to the next adventure.”

Alan frowned. “Your faith in my ability to take care of myself is underwhelming.”

“Sorry, but it’s true. And why hasn’t he simply snatched me away if I’m his focus? He’s had ample opportunity to do so.”

“No clue. But what I
really
want to know”—Alan stood and moved behind the aquarium to Devereux’s side of the love seat—“is how long
you
are going to fuck around, whining about Lucifer’s brain not having a frequency you can track? When are you going to figure out a way to catch the bastard? I thought you had a rep as a major badass. Either the rep’s been inflated, or you’ve lost some of your shine, so to speak.”