The Vampire Shrink (21 page)

“It is about entrainment. I have done a lot of reading on this subject over the last twenty years. One benefit of living a long time is the acquisition of knowledge.”

“Entrainment?”

“Allow me to explain. Think of an old clock, the kind with a swinging pendulum.” He moved his hand back and forth, as if he was conducting an orchestra. Sharing his wisdom obviously pleased him, and I grinned as I watched his enthusiastic presentation. Professor Devereux.

His graceful motions expanded into wider arcs. “The rhythm of the swing is very strong, very powerful. Then think of putting several smaller, newer clocks on the same wall with the old clock, each pendulum swinging in a different pattern. Soon, all the new clocks will begin swinging in time with the old clock. The power of the old clock overwhelms the newer ones, and they join with it. Am I making sense?”

I skimmed my fingertips across the top of the hand he'd rested on the table. I couldn't seem to stop touching him.

“Yes, I know about that. It's like when women all start having their cycles at the same time, as if we get in sync with one another or something. But what does that have to do with you?”

He nodded and held up his index finger, prepared to continue with the lecture. “Let me put it in musical terms. Vampires …” He paused, frowning. “What is wrong?”

He had seen me shift my gaze down when he said the word “vampires.” I brought my hands together in my lap. Saying that word reminded me I was taking advantage of someone who might be psychotic, delusional, or at the very least mentally confused. There I was, making out with a virtual stranger and encouraging him by listening to his stories. That felt bad as a woman and as a psychologist. I raised my eyes to meet his, surprised to discover him grinning at me.

He shook his head. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. It is becoming troublesome that you will not accept what I am. But I will continue to answer the question you asked, and you will simply have to humor me.”

He lifted one of my hands, brought it up to his mouth, and kissed my palm with those incredibly soft lips. Even that small contact caused my heart to race and my libido to tap me on the shoulder. His lovely turquoise eyes sparkled, and he somehow managed to appear sexy, angelic, and dangerous all at the same time.

My mouth went dry.

“As I was saying, in musical terms, vampires give off such a powerful energy or tone that everyone entrains with us. The vibrational frequency that emanates from the undead is stronger than any other, and so it overrides whatever was there before. That is without our even looking at anyone. If we gaze into a human's eyes without holding back, it is a form of mind control. We are able to change your brain waves.”

“Are you talking about hypnosis?”
I
knew
he was a hypnotist
!
And, apparently, a damn good one.

He leaned closer. “It is much more similar to brainwashing than hypnosis, because in hypnosis you are always free to choose.”

“So”—I reached over and played with a lock of his hair—“you're saying the power of what you are is so strong that I'm pulled in whether I want to be pulled in or not?”

“Exactly,” he said, with a quick nod.

“And when you said your gaze wouldn't entrance me tonight, you meant you'd hold back?”

“Yes.”

I slid my index finger along his lower lip. “Then does that mean my desire to kiss you is only there because you want me to kiss you? That you are irresistible to me because of that power and not because of anything I feel about you?”

He flashed a dazzling smile. “I am pleased to hear I am irresistible to you, but no. I am old enough to be in total control of my power, and I hold back with you so that you can make your own decisions. You kiss me because you desire to kiss me.”

I trailed my fingernail lightly over his cheek. “Show me the difference.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Use your eyes. Turn on the full power. Let me have it. I want to know what you're talking about.”

“Are you certain?” He grinned mischievously.

I nodded and stared into his eyes.

A wave of heat moved through my body, my scalp tingled, and my eyelids sank to half-mast. The next thing I knew, I was in his lap, my knees straddling his legs, my arms wrapped around his neck, passionately kissing him.

In my mind he sighed, “This is how it will be between us.”

“Ahem.”

I heard a sound from somewhere in the distance, but nothing was more important than kissing Devereux's soft, warm lips. Nothing mattered except keeping my body pressed against his.

“Ahem. Kismet?”

In slow motion, I turned toward the sound. There at the end of the table were three sets of eyes, staring at me.

CHAPTER 11

T
om's shocked face leaned in toward me. “Kismet?”

Whatever had happened wasn't finished yet, and I was having a hard time concentrating on the fact that I needed to focus on the audience we'd suddenly acquired. I vaguely recognized Tom but couldn't place the women standing on either side of him.

A woman's voice said, “She's entranced.”

“Do you mean she's drugged? Did this guy put something in her drink?” Tom demanded, his voice dripping anger.

“No. She's not drugged. She's bespelled,” said a different woman's voice.

“I seem to be missing something here. If someone doesn't clue me in right now, I'm going to cause a scene,” Tom yelled. “Kismet! What's going on? Where's Alan?” He jerked his head toward Devereux. “Do you know this guy?”

I squinted up at Tom, nodded yes, and buried my face in Devereux's deliciously scented hair.

“I do apologize. You must be Tom. We have not been properly introduced yet. I am Devereux, the owner of the Crypt. Please excuse our rudeness in not acknowledging you sooner. I take full responsibility. We were doing a little … experiment … and we got distracted.”

The fog began to clear in my brain, and I started to grasp that I was sitting on Devereux while Tom and two strange women gaped at me. I remembered making the decision to leap into his lap, but for the life of me I couldn't recall why I'd do such a thing.

Devereux whispered in my mind, “That was wonderful. I await the opportunity for us to continue our experiment.”

He effortlessly lifted me up and set me in the booth next to him. The sounds of the room began to swim back into my consciousness, and my eyes rediscovered the ability to focus. I wanted to ask him a thousand questions about what had happened, but it didn't appear I was going to have the chance.

“Please join us.” Devereux waved his arm through the air over the booth.

Tom and the two women sat. His eyes shifted rapidly back and forth between Devereux and me. “Kismet, what's the matter with you? I've never seen you do anything like that before.”

“Give her a moment,” urged the woman sitting next to him. “She's not herself yet.”

She turned her attention to me. “I'm Zoë, Tom's new friend. I remember the first time I was taken under. It's almost too amazing for words.”

“Taken under? What do you mean, ‘taken under'? What the
hell
is going on here?” Tom glared around the table.

I ignored him and focused my eyes on the woman speaking to me and recognized her as the tall brunette who'd waylaid Tom on his way to the men's room. She appeared very dynamic, with her dark hair, pale skin, and large, distinctive eyes. The lighting was too dim for me to see the color, but they looked unusual. I became momentarily fascinated by her eyelashes, which were the longest I'd ever seen.

Finally retrieving some of the ability to speak, I mumbled, “It's nice to meet you.”

Devereux touched my arm and pointed to the other woman who'd joined us. “This is Luna. She is one of the managers of the club and my personal assistant.”

I hadn't noticed through my brain fog earlier, but Luna was an exceptionally attractive woman. In fact, finding out that this femme fatale was Devereux's personal assistant bothered me way more than a little. I hardly knew Devereux, and a few passionate kisses shouldn't cause me to feel this jealous of another woman. Especially a woman who might not be interested in Devereux at all.

Yeah, right. Not interested in Devereux. Welcome to Denial Central.

Luna's silver eyes studied me like a specimen in a lab. She leaned across the table, shifted from side to side for a better view, and I got the sense she'd have prodded me with a stick if she could.

“So you're the one. You're the human who's caused all the fuss.” She twirled a strand of her long, straight, jet-black hair. “I expected more. You're very pretty, and I see what he means about your eyes, but I still don't understand the obsession.” She turned to Devereux. “What is it about her?”

The two of them stared silently at each other for a moment, and then Luna sighed. “Yes, yes, I know. I'll be good. But I don't have to like it.”

She returned her gaze to me. “Have Devereux take you on a tour of the rest of the club. I'm sure you'll find it illuminating.” She stood, nodded at Devereux, and walked away, moving like a sleek panther on the prowl.

Devereux said in my mind, “Luna does not understand my interest in humans. She does not share my desire to remain connected to the human community. She believes it is dangerous for us to risk exposure by allowing ourselves to be known. There is no reason for you to be jealous of her—she and I have never had an intimate relationship.”

I frowned at him and sent the thought,
I'm not jealous
.

His lips quirked. He thought, “As you wish.”

“Hey, what's going on?” Tom asked. “Why is everyone just staring at each other? I think I missed the beginning of this movie. Are you going to tell me what you were doing in this guy's lap?”

I lifted my chin and locked eyes with him. “Even though I don't owe you an explanation and you're sounding ridiculously like a jealous boyfriend, I'll tell you. Devereux and I have a special relationship. We are very attracted to each other. That's all you need to know. I'll sit where I wish, and I'll kiss whomever I choose!” I said, giving him a stern look.

Although it was totally out of character for me to say all that out loud, it felt good to do it.

“Okay.” Tom scrunched down a little in his seat. “I hear you. I was just worried about you—you've been acting funny all night. Where's Alan?”

“He was called to the police station. There's been another murder.”

His eyebrows rose. “A murder?”

“Yes, it's the case he's working on. He told you about it in the car, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” He frowned. “The vampire thing. So how are we supposed to get home?”

You could always count on Tom to think about himself in the midst of whatever else was happening.

“He said he'd come back for us as soon as he could.”

Zoë reached over, pinched Tom's chin between her fingers, and guided his face to hers. “Who knows, Tommy Boy, maybe you won't want to go home. The night is young. Come on, let's dance.” She pulled him out of the booth toward the dance floor.

“Don't leave without me!” Tom called back over his shoulder.

“Your friend is an interesting person.” Devereux chuckled. “Seeing you with me caused quite a storm of emotions inside him. He is concerned that he was wrong to let you go. He is reconsidering.”

“Are you jealous?” I blurted without thinking. What was I, a fourteen-year-old?

He snuggled in close and enveloped me in that wonderful spicy scent again. His eyes shimmered in the dim light, and his voice flowed like music. “No. I am not jealous. I am certain of your feelings for me. What you and I have is beyond petty human emotions.”

I briefly thought about insisting that I had no feelings for him, but I had no clue what was going on with me. Saying I didn't have any feelings about him would be a lie, and how could I fool someone who appeared to have the ability, whether I liked—or believed—it or not, to know what I was thinking and feeling? Was that every woman's dream or worst nightmare?

Instead I asked, “If I stare at your eyes again, will I jump back into your lap?”

He laughed, a full-throated sound that washed over me like warm honey. “No. You may look at me and remain in your seat.”

I locked eyes with him and thought, “
Kiss me
.”

“Your wish is my command.” He pressed his soft, warm lips against mine and plunged me once again into that deep, blissful, timeless universe where only the two of us existed. The sounds in the room receded into the background. Everyone else in the club disappeared. He gently teased his tongue into my mouth, exploring me, and I returned the favor. I heard myself making little moaning sounds. He spoke in my mind, “I want you.”

My body ached with desire for him. Maybe it was the buildup of sexual need during the last two years, or maybe it was my reaction to his incredible kiss, but I couldn't think about anything except having mad, passionate sex with Devereux. And, at the same time, I knew that even having that thought was totally abnormal for me.

We reluctantly pulled apart.

“Come. Let me show you the rest of my club.”

He stood and held his hand out to me, and I took it, feeling both anxious and excited.

I slid out of the booth, rose up on my toes, and scanned the room. “I should tell Tom where I'm going. Not that he deserves it. It'd serve him right if I just left him here to fend for himself.”

Devereux cocked his head. “The two of you had a disagreement?”

“Sometimes, even though I know better, I let his arrogance get to me. In a sick way, he's sort of like family. He's one of the few people I ever trusted.”

“Ah. Well, not to worry—Zoë will tell him you are with me.”