Empath (Book 1 of the Empath Trilogy) (16 page)

BOOK: Empath (Book 1 of the Empath Trilogy)
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Not being experienced, I didn’t know if it was always like that, but I didn’t think so from what I’d overheard from my peers.  And felt.  It was not uncommon for the girls to be upset or feel disappointed in their experiences.  Not me.  Maybe there was something to immortality.  He had probably been with hundreds of women and was far more knowledgeable than the young men the girls at school had lain with, or it was because of how I felt about him.  I didn’t want to think too hard about it; surely I was one of a number of women and one he would inevitably forget, but in this little moment I could cling to the notion that last night had been special for us both. 

 

As I lay there, remembering the events of our night together and considering how I might feel about him in my head, I felt him stir behind me and I froze.  What would morning be like now that our heads were clearer?  Awkward?  Would he regret it or tell me that our time together was at an end?  I felt my whole body cringe as I thought of being cutoff from him. 

 

“Are you awake, Claire?”  His voice was cautious.  Great, he was trying to figure out a nice way to get rid of me.

 

“Umm, let me find my clothes and I’ll be out of here in a minute.”  I started to throw back the covers and paused in my escape discovering that I was stark naked and
all
of my clothes were either down the stairs or on them.

 

Lightning fast, his arm shot out and wrapped around my waist, pulling me up against the front of his body.  Oh, he was also naked, I realized with a flutter in my stomach.  I blushed and lay perfectly still.

 

“It’s Saturday, do you have somewhere you need to be or could you stay a while?”

Was he just being nice?  “I, uh, don’t have anything until later this afternoon.  I’m meeting my folks for a late lunch.”  I dared to let myself hope for something other than the worst.  “Why?”

 

With our bodies touching, I could feel the rumble of his voice against my back and I closed my eyes, enjoying his closeness.  “Would you like to join me for breakfast?  I’m a pretty good cook.” 

 

“Sure, if you don’t have anything, uh, more important.”  I tried not to sound too grateful. 

 

He pushed up onto his elbow and gently guided my chin around.  I twisted to follow.  “Claire, do you think last night was a mistake?”  No way, he actually looked worried.

 

I tried to make the words come out steady.  “It wasn’t for
me
.  Was it for you?”  I didn’t think I could live through the humiliation if he said yes.

 

James’ reply was halting.  It was a side of him I had not expected.  “No matter what you might think, I do not take lovers easily.  It has been quite a while since I have brought anyone to my bed and no, I do not consider it a mistake.”

 

I searched his eyes, dark with emotion and felt my uncertainty fizzling, the memory of Henry’s speech in the library coming back to me.  “So, it wasn’t just physical for you?” 

 

“No.  I can’t explain this draw I feel to you, but I will not deny it any longer.  When I sensed the power of your wanting last night, I couldn’t stop myself.  I am not proud of myself for taking advantage of you when you were weak with
her
desire.  But my own was too strong to deny.”  He nodded at my shocked intake of breath.  “I smelled a stranger on you when she pulled you in, I knew it wasn’t the one I’d asked you to try.  Are you angry with me for making your first experience with a man a dishonest one?”

 

“You knew I picked the wrong one?”

 

“It doesn’t bother you that I took advantage?”  He refused to be deterred.

 

Raising my hand, I reached out to touch his smooth cheek and watched as my fingers traced the bottom curve of his jaw.  “Nothing happened that I didn’t want.” Remembering what he had said about it being my first time, I offered him a timid smile and felt my cheeks warm.  “I hope it was okay for you, we’re kind of unevenly matched in experience.”

 

He lowered his face to mine.  I felt his cool body molded to every inch of mine and the fire banked last night was rekindled within my body.  His husky voice brought me back.  “Experience can’t hold a candle to passion, a place where you excelled.”

 

I felt the heat burning down my neck and watched his eyes track, following it.  Remembering a key sticking point between our species, my hands flew to my neck and my fingers searched for the marks I feared were there. 

 

“I didn’t bite you.”  James’ face clouded and he pulled away, offended.  “I am old enough and strong enough to resist the call of your blood, tempting though it may be.”

 

Once again I felt foolish.  “I’m sorry.  I only know what the stories say.  I thought that was what happened when our kind were together, you know, physically.” 

 

The tension eased in his eyes.  “It can make for a more intense experience to be bitten during sex.  Being bitten can be a frightening or pleasant experience, depending on what the vampire does to your mind when he bites.  It is the same with marking.”  He paused a moment, it almost seemed he wanted to take that last comment back. 

 

“What does it mean to be marked?  Is it different than just being bitten or changed?”  I’d never heard of being marked; until now, I thought there were only two reasons for being bitten by a vampire:  food or convert. 

 

James’ brows knitted in thought while his hand played with a clump of curls lying on the pillow beside me.  “Being marked by a vampire is not something to be taken lightly.  It binds a human to the vampire for the remainder of their existences.”  I watched his face, still wondering how he would feel about being bound to me, still confused by my disturbing need for him.  “Have you ever marked anyone?”

 

“No, I have not.”  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  “Let me start at the beginning to clarify a few things.  I suppose you will need to know all of it soon anyway.”  He left the hair alone and his eyes returned to my face.  “Intention is the key to what happens with the bites.  If the vampire is hungry then a bite can be for feeding or draining and death.”  Seeing my face at that, he added quickly, “Few still do that, it draws too much attention.  Most find it best to take small amounts from several sources and leave the donor alive with no memory of the incident.  If the vampire goes too far and doesn’t want the donor to die, he might choose to inject his venom and change the donor, but the donor must also drink from the vampire before expiration.  It doesn’t always have to be the same vampire.  Another vampire can come in and save the donor with his own venom, like what happened with me.”  The guarded look on his face stopped me from asking any more than that, as did Stephen’s warning that these stories were very personal.  Having sex once didn’t mean he was going to tell me everything about himself and I knew that.

 

“One can also be marked,” he continued.  “A mark is given when a vampire takes a small amount of blood and injects incremental amounts of venom on several different occasions.  Again, the human must also take blood in return.  Each mark changes the human a small amount and binds him or her to the vampire.  After three such marks, the human is changed over completely to a vampire.”

 

“I thought you just got bitten one time and that was it.”  Admittedly, I didn’t know much about vampires.  That would have to change, especially since it appeared I was involved with one.  “What else do I need to know?”  I looked at the sunlight and pointed at the window.  “What about that?”

 

“The sunlight?  That is a bit trickier.  You probably remember from our training what my feelings are like?”  I nodded.  “They are fuzzy, less clear, than your own.”

 

“Yes, I remember.”

 

“When we are newly changed, our sensitivities are
more
intense than your own even.  We still have the residual human physical feelings and the new vampire sensitivities combining for an incredibly intense experience.  During that period, it is best to avoid sunlight because it burns our skin.  Not that we will combust as the legends say, but it hurts like a flame to the flesh.  As we age, the physical sensitivity fades and we learn to ignore the tingling, and can walk around unharmed in the sunlight.  I prefer to wear sunglasses, my eyes have remained sensitive all this time.  Of course some choose to only move about at night.  Since we do not sleep, we have the choice.”

 

“James,” his name felt even sweeter on my tongue now that we were intimate.  “How old are you, do you mind my asking?”

 

He laughed.  “Now you ask?  After all the laws have been broken?”

 

“We are both over eighteen.”  I chuckled.  “No laws were broken, except maybe decency laws.  What if you were old enough to be my father or grandfather?”

 

“Oh, I could be that; several times over.”

 

My jaw dropped.  “Seriously?”

 

“I was born in Quebec around 1842.  It is hard to be sure because I wasn’t born in a hospital and the records were not kept as accurately as they are now.  My parents were part of a large number of emigrants coming from London that year.  They sought better fortunes in North America.  It was very common then and I was born not long after they arrived.”

 

“Oh my gosh!”  I didn’t know what to say. 

 

“Yes, suffice it to say that I am old enough.”  His face was closed, guarded once again.  “Does that bother you?  My age?”

 

I thought seriously about it for a minute.  “No, it doesn’t.  What matters is now.  As long as you want me here, I’m good.”  Holding my breath, I realized I had put myself out there for more than just a physical dalliance without meaning to do so.

 

He pulled me on top of him as he rolled over and chuckled darkly, “Oh, I want you all right.” 

 

 

 

Ch. 16

 

James and I enjoyed the very late breakfast he was able to scare up in his kitchen.  Apparently, he occasionally had human and weres for guests and carried a limited supply of food.  After the long night and morning of activities, I was voracious.  He was right; he
was
a surprisingly good cook and made me a huge breakfast of eggs, toast and bacon.  I ate it all.

 

Stephen hadn’t been wrong about how James and Henry fed.  James sipped on a travel coffee mug while he sat with me at the table for breakfast.  “What is that?”  I asked without thinking.

 

He looked down his nose over the table.  “You know what it is.”

 

“Oh,” I felt stupid.  “I know
what
it is.  I was thinking about
who
it is.”  From the look on his face, I was guessing I was starting to make him mad.  Stumbling, I tried to clarify before it got worse, “What I mean is, does it bother you?  Having to drink blood knowing it’s from people?”

 

“At first it did, when I didn’t have control, and sometimes, it didn’t end well.” 

 

Gulping, I realized I had tried to avoid thinking about that part of James.  Seeing him as a monster. 

 

“After a while, I was able to streamline the process and occasionally I would take a partner who would willingly feed me.”  He saw me thinking about that one and moved on before I could think very hard about it.  “That was never my preferred method.  I don’t like to mix sex and blood like some do.  It was merely a necessity of the time.  Now that we have the option of the blood bank, I choose to keep my pleasure separate from my feeding.”

Funny, I hadn’t realized how much of my knowledge of vampires was wrong.  Knowing that sex didn’t equal blood loss took away a ton of my reservations about dreaming of more with James.

 

James looked at the clock on the dining room wall and pushed his chair back.  “I’d better get you back soon so you have time to change before you have to meet your parents.”

 

“Yes, I would like to clean up a bit.”  It was strange how unselfconscious I was with him; I felt at home here with him.  Whoa, too fast.  Well, either way, it was good to be comfortable with him since we were still going to have to work together for the next few weeks at least.  After that, I wasn’t sure how things would end.

 

 

 

Ch. 17

 

My parents and I had agreed to meet at Grandma’s Restaurant down at Seven Corners, a trendy part of town off campus.  It was usually pretty slow on a Saturday in the late afternoon.  Part of the reason that I picked such a public place was my parents’ adversity to public displays of affection.  I was ready to test my shielding, but I didn’t want to hit it with a battering ram. 

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