Kill Me (17 page)

“Thank you, for these,” I fluttered the articles, “And everything else too. You’ve been more than helpful.”

“Hush, girl.” Cassidy hugged me tightly. I stiffened, not from the personal contact, but because my teeth began to tingle as soon as she touched me. She smelled so damn good. It was all I could do not to bite her.

She ignored the fact that I didn’t return the hug. “We’ll see each other soon. Until then, there’s always email. And texting. Don’t you just love technology?” She laughed, and let go of me.

“Sure, I sleep with my smart phone,” I said.

“Well, that’s a topic for next time,” she said, smiling and shaking her head.

I realized too late how that had sounded. I’d rather let her think that than the truth— that I’d recently begun sleeping with anything that so much as twitched at me. Heartbeat not required.

“Next time, then.” I backed away from the table, feeling unsteady on my feet. I needed to get back to my room where a bottle of blood waited for me. “Bye Cassidy.”

She waved as she walked away and I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t snacked on my new friend. So that was something to be proud of.

I wasn’t home free yet. I still had to get away from the pulsing bodies all around and up to my room, before I did something regrettable, like sinking my tingling teeth into that hunky little busboy cleaning the tables. He looked so healthy and fit and I just knew that he tasted divine. Better than he smelled, even.

My mouth twitched and two sharp pains stabbed my mouth. I pursed my lips, feeling the twin canines descend and poke into my bottom lip. Before I could even process my changed mouth, I swept out of the cafe and headed for the stairs. I couldn’t wait for the elevator or risk riding with anyone. I hurried up the stairs with one hand covering my face. I kept my eyes down and focused on one step at a time. My stomach felt leaden and it began to burn, like a hot poker to the gut.

Finally, mercifully, I arrived at my hotel room door. I fumbled the key card, dropping it to the floor. A maid pushed a cart towards me and I considered forgetting the key and the cold blood behind the door. Surely warm blood tasted better, even if the owner smelled like bleach and lemon furniture polish. Her heartbeat was the only sound I could hear. It beat a drum in my ears, lulling me into a semi-trance.

I whacked my head on the door handle as I bent to retrieve the fallen card. “F-thuck!” I gasped, touching my forehead. The lisp would have been comical if I weren’t so damn close to ripping the poor woman’s throat out.

“You okay Miss?” the maid asked, drawing so near I detected a faint heart murmur beneath her starched cotton uniform. I wondered if she knew about it.

“I’m F-thine,” I said, snatching up the card and thrusting it in the slot. Come on, green light. Come on!

The lock clicked and I pushed open the door. The cool air from my room blasted outward, which calmed me for the four seconds it took me to close and lock the door, cross the room, snatch the bottle from the melted ice, tear off the cap and pour the contents down my throat. Ah, sweet relief.

I dropped the empty bottle on the floor and fell onto the bed. My teeth retracted, uncomfortable for a split-second, like I’d had huge pieces of food wedged between my teeth. I could think again, but that was about it. I was still hungry and without the energy to sit up.

I had no choice but to lay there, a prisoner of my body. When my mind cleared a little, my negative thoughts returned. Who had I been kidding? I wasn’t any different from the other vampires. I had no control over myself at all. I was a dangerous predator that couldn’t be trusted, not for one tiny moment.

Especially around my daughter. I had to protect Quinn at all costs, even if it meant removing myself from her life.

How stupid I’d been, dressing like a twenty-year old and ignoring Bette’s warnings. Acting like my life was peachy-keen, when really it was anything but. My life was over and it had only taken me
days
to realize it. Dehydrated and spent, tears wouldn’t come. So I cried the silent tears of a woman on the edge and waited for something to take away my pain.

Chapter 18

A loud rapping on my door woke me with a start. The weight of my body felt off, like I’d gained two-hundred pounds during my nap.

“Claire!” Said a muffled, masculine voice from the hall. “Claire, are you in there?”

I tried to sit up, but my limbs were made of stone. I didn’t recognize the voice, but I really didn’t care who it was. I needed help in whatever form the universe chose to offer it.

“Yes, I’m here,” I croaked, hoping whoever was there could hear me. “Hello? Who’s there?”

The door handle rattled. “Claire, its Gregor. Let me inside.”

“I can’t.” I shivered violently, without control. “I...I just can’t.”

The door handle rattled, followed by a loud thud. The crazy man was trying to force his way into my room. Any other time and I might have been titillated. Wasn’t that ever woman’s secret fantasy? To be rescued by her own personal knight?

Muttered cursing came from behind the door. Not much chivalry there, for sure. I tried to sit up, to roll over or do anything to get me closer to the door, but all I managed to do was inch my feet so they were dangling oddly. My legs drooped over the bed, like they were anchored to the floor.

“Get another key. Tell them you’re my husband if you have to,” I panted. Even my lungs weren’t working right. For the first time, I wondered if I were dying. Maybe my body was rejecting the change or duking it out with my other abilities—and loosing?

Panic crept over me, like a snake crossing my paralyzed body, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“I’ll be back,” Gregor said, his voice strained. I heard a hand brush the door and then he was gone.

For the next two minutes and forty-nine seconds I waited for some sign of his return. I wondered if he would actually be able to help me, or worse, would he even want to help me. Honestly, just because we’d had hot strip-club sex didn’t mean that he actually cared about me. I wasn’t that naive. Not anymore.

He did seem concerned, so that was better than nothing. Like an idiot, that led me to thinking about how I would look once he finally gained access to my room. He’d see a pathetic lump of a woman, looking all fat and hopeless, since it’s common knowledge to all women that what looks like sexy-curves in one position morphs into fat-rolls in another. And I was in that “another” position.

How retarded was I? Stuck alone in a hotel room, practically paralyzed, dying for blood (and possibly dying period) and all I could think about was looking good for Gregor. And what did that mean for my feelings with Bette?

I heard a shuffling outside of the door, followed by Gregor saying, “Just open the damn door!”

The latch clicked and the door swung open. Gregor said to the person in the hall, “You may go now,” before slamming the door and rushing over to me. His face was full of concern.

“You look horrible,” he said, reaching for me.

Just stake me now, I thought. If I could have moved my arms, I surely would have snapped the leg off the nearest nightstand and rammed it through my own chest. Absolutely. Without hesitation.

“Are you injured?” Gregor sat me up and knelt down in front of me. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” My voice was almost a whisper. It hurt to talk. Hell, it hurt to think.

A flicker of relief crossed his face. “Tell me what happened.”

“I woke up fine. I dressed and went down to the coffee shop to meet a friend. Then I started to feel very tired. Then hungry. I barely made it back up here to the bottle Bette left me... and then I collapsed.” I nodded to the discarded bottle on the floor and I gnawed on my lip.

“So you need to feed. I can take care of that.” His eyes sparkled, and I felt my heart thump once, hard.

“I’ve never heard of hunger doing this. Usually it makes you energetic, fueled by the desire to feed. Frenzied.”

He picked me up and laid me against the mounded pillows, with neither great care nor lack of concern. Joining me on the bed, he kicked back and crossed his hands behind his head. “Have you mastered releasing your teeth yet?”

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head as much as I could. The nearness of Gregor perked me up ever so slightly. Maybe I was borrowing strength from him?

“Try. Think of your hunger, of how badly you want to drink, and then focus that energy to your teeth,” he advised.

I shut my eyes and remembered how all the people had smelled in the café, their blood all around me like a giant whirlpool of packed red cells. The maid had been within feet of me and she had smelled just lovely despite the chemical overtones. I’d wanted to drink them all dry then tear open the corpses and lick the blood remnants away. Points to me for not actually doing that, though.

I felt my blood-lust swell, so I focused on my teeth. I ran my tongue over my canines, letting the sharp tips scrape the flesh, drawing a little blood. My upper jaw began to shift, not in any noticeable way, but enough to tell me something was happening there. I bit down on my lip, drawing a bubble of my own blood. I suckled at it. It tasted so good, it was almost orgasmic.

“Look at me, what do you think I want?” he said.

I couldn’t help myself, I faced Gregor and the minute I did, his need washed over me.

My fangs dropped, causing me to bite my lip more than I’d meant to. “F-theed me, plea-th.” I lisped. Well, that was embarrassing. Not exactly the impression I was going for.

Gregor laughed, “Don’t worry; we all did that in the beginning. You will become used to it.” He grinned widely, and I noticed that his teeth were already out and proud. And that wasn’t the only part of his body ready to go.

He kissed me hard, pressing his body against mine. I tried to mirror his restraint, but it required more control than I had. I nicked his lip with my teeth and felt his blood roll over my tongue. A fission of energy passed through me and I felt some of the weight lift from my limbs. I wrapped my arm around his neck and leaned closer.

Suddenly, I was flying backwards on the bed. Gregor was standing, grabbing his neck. “What the bloody hell?”

I was stunned. I had no idea what just happened, but clearly he thought I had done something. “What... What’s wrong?” I stammered.

He looked to me, still rubbing his neck, until his eyes landed on something. “What is that?” He pointed to my wrist.

“My bracelet,” I said.

“I know that. What is it made of?” he spat.

“I don’t know. Silver I think.”

“Jesus! Did Bette not teach you anything?”

That irritated me. I jumped to her defense, “Of course, but you must know by now that I’m not normal and not everything seems to apply to me,” I argued.

Of course, the bottom line was I’d done something dumb. Again.

“Take it off, now,” Gregor commanded, with an air of authority that quaked my insides.

I did as he asked, tossing the bracelet on the nightstand with a clang. “Look, I don’t understand.”

“Of course not, but I do. That,” he pointed to the offending metal, “is what is wrong with you, other than being hungry.”

Oops, Bette had warned me about that, I was pretty sure. “My bracelet paralyzed me?”

“It would seem so. Though how you managed to wear it at all, let alone for hours, confounds me.” Gregor rubbed his temple and stared at me, perplexed.

I felt my teeth slide back up into normal position, the moment clearly gone. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I mean, it’s not like the effects were as obvious to me as they are to you.”

He relaxed a little bit and came towards me again. “Elizabetta was right about you. I don’t know what you are yet, but I can tell that you are extraordinary.”

He sat on the bed beside me, close but not touching me. A sign of respect or a little bit of fear?

“We forget that you are not like us, so you will have to forgive us if we don’t always understand.”

That didn’t seem to require a response, so I stayed quiet. He inched closer to me, tilting my face upward.

“Now, how are you feeling?”

“Better now, thanks.” I smiled. “How did you know to come find me?”

“Bette felt that something was wrong, but she’s... detained. So I came to make sure you were all right.”

I frowned, not liking the explanation. “How would Bette know something was wrong?”

“She is your maker, so you are both bound by the same blood. She will always be able to sense you, and in time, you will be able to sense her in return,” he explained.

I wasn’t sure that was good news. I’m a pretty private person and sharing myself without being aware of it made me nervous. I let the logical part of my brain take over.

“Ok, great. So Bette made me and we share blood. What about who made her? If we all share the same blood, is there someone else out there that can sense me as well?”

Gregor looked at me with amusement. “The blood is diluted, so in general the answer should be no. Did Bette not speak of her maker to you?”

I noticed the “should” in his answer. So he wasn’t sure then. I shook my head and fidgeted with my halter top. It wouldn’t do to have a wardrobe malfunction while I was getting to know him. And yes, I was aware of how ridiculous that sounded, after the orgy moment we’d shared the night before. But I was trying to forget all of that.

“Well, I’m sure Bette has her reasons. But now, we must get you fed,” he said, brushing the hair back from the side of my face.

“I’m really not that hungry anymore,” I said.

“Doesn’t matter. After that episode it would be dangerous for you not to feed. It must be done.”

His tone scared me a little, but at the same time I sort-of liked it. Feminism be damned, every woman likes a bit of take-charge in a man, whether they admit it or not. He didn’t wait for me to approve. Instead, he swept me back against the pillows again with strong, sure hands. He nuzzled my neck and I felt the sting of his teeth nip the sensitive skin over my collar bone. In the interest of trying not to sleep with him again, I pushed him back against the bed.