Abby and Kyle sat in the first row of the theater, mapping out the blocking for scene two. The supporting cast sat behind them.
“I’m just going to observe today,” Kyle said.
Oh, great.
Abby sensed Malcolm’s presence before she saw him, like static in the air before a lightning strike. The hair on her arms stood up, and she jerked her head toward the theater entrance. Her heartbeat sped up. Stay neutral. She’d successfully blocked him from her thoughts, but being in his presence posed a challenge.
“I think we’re all here now.” Abby looked back at the papers on her lap, determined not to make eye contact with Malcolm. She shot a glance at Kyle, who frowned at her.
“Let’s get started.” Kyle rose to shake Malcolm’s hand. “Whoa, your hand is cold. Getting a bit chilly out there, is it?”
“More like a heat wave,” Abby said under her breath. Vampires’ skin is cool to the touch — check.
“What was that?” Malcolm asked.
Vampires have exceptional hearing — check. She glanced in his direction, and her eyes made it as far as his crotch. Exceptional everything. “Nothing, just babbling.” She pushed herself out of the chair, took the stage steps two at a time, and then turned to face Malcolm, Kyle, and the rest of the cast.
“Good afternoon, everyone. I want to personally thank you all for participating in our annual holiday production. It’s always an exciting day when the tryouts are over, and the full cast assembles for the first time. I’d especially like to welcome Dr. Malcolm McClellan to the cast. He’s graciously accepted the role of our vampire hero. I’m sure his experience as a Civil War re-enactor will serve us well as we steep ourselves in the history of those tragic days that put little Gettysburg indelibly on the map.” Okay, now I sound like a chamber of commerce brochure.
“Anyway, enough of that. You all have your scripts, and to begin, I’ll need Dr. McClellan and Karen Thompson on stage, please.” Abby watched Malcolm take Karen’s elbow to help her up the steps. Her breath caught. No, couldn’t be jealousy. He just doesn’t want her to trip.
“Karen, you stand here.” Abby pointed to the yellow chalk marks on the floor to her left. She adjusted Karen’s stance by moving her shoulders so that her body angled about 45 degrees toward the audience. “Dr. McClellan, if you’ll take the same stance?”
“I don’t see what you’re intending, Miss Potter,” Malcolm said.
Abby looked up at him. Wow. She almost fainted when she met his eyes. That color blue didn’t exist anywhere else in nature. She cleared her throat, and then said, “What’s so difficult? Just stand at the same angle I placed Karen.”
“Show me.”
Damn, he wasn’t making this easy. She stood next to him, facing Karen, and turned her shoulders halfway toward the front of the stage. “Got it?” She didn’t look up at him this time.
“Not quite.”
This was getting ridiculous. She firmly grasped his shoulders. “Like this.” She moved him about three inches, and then let her eyes travel from his broad chest up to his cleft chin. She stopped at his lips. Her body leaned toward him, and then she jerked back. “I’m going to sit down, now. I’ll cue you from the front row.” As she walked away, her heart mimicked a microwaved marshmallow — after an explosive puff, it quickly deflated.
Abby eased her jittery body into a front row seat and flipped open her script. “Let’s start on page three. We’ll do a quick read through for timing and inflection. Dr. McClellan, whenever you’re ready.”
She sat for a few minutes and then, as was her custom, got up and roamed the theater, making sure the actors could be heard from all the nooks and crannies. Malcolm far exceeded amateur status. He read like a seasoned professional. His projection was pitch-perfect, and though his baritone could have easily drowned out Karen, he seemed to modulate his volume to bring out the best in hers. Abby thought back to his classroom. He’d always found a way to let his students shine. If they seemed stuck on a question, he’d reword it to encourage their answer. Abby stared at him in admiration — the same kind of admiration that had engendered a schoolgirl crush when she’d been a student. And for a moment, she forgot he might be anything more than mortal. She only saw the man, his self-confidence, his ability to make those around him comfortable. Even though he was capable of overshadowing anyone, he’d checked his ego at the door. He didn’t need to put on airs, and that was a tremendous turn-on.
• • •
After one hundred fifty years of solitude, why was he suddenly lonelier than he’d ever been? The window of his heart had only opened a crack, and yet Abby had invaded it like a monsoon. Watching her take command of the play made him proud of the capable woman she’d become. It also made him recall his life with Sarah and how he’d failed her.
Sarah. The years had dulled his pain, and Abby had rekindled his passion. But that was his human side, the side that crushed his first attempt at love. What made him think he deserved another?
Better to stick with his vampire nature, ruled by more basic instincts.
Returning to his empty house following rehearsal, he headed to the kitchen and poured himself a tumbler of B positive, first inhaling the spicy scent of the rich red liquid, and then swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing. He wondered how Abby’s blood would taste. Even if she came to him, wanted him, he’d have to keep his impulses in check. He could make love to her without sinking his fangs in her neck, but it wouldn’t be easy. And if he bit her, could he stop his onslaught … before he turned her … or killed her? He hadn’t tasted blood fresh from a vein in more than a century. Such temptation.