Chapter 17
Giovanni awoke from the Dark Sleep smiling, as he had every night for the last five weeks, because he knew Cassie would be waiting for him at his house. They had quickly fallen into a routine. Their lives had merged together almost seamlessly, he thought. He met her when she got off work at 2:00 A.M. and drove her home, where they spent an hour or two together, mainly locked in each other’s arms. He stayed in the house until dawn, then sought his lair. Since they stayed up so late, she slept a good part of the day. On the nights she worked, he rose a couple of hours before sunset so he could spend time with her before she had to leave for the Winchester. Her days off were the best. He had taken her night fishing at Huntington Beach. They’d gone to the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles to look at the stars, spent an evening at the Hollywood Bowl. So many things to do and see, things he had done before, yet they were all so much more enjoyable when Cassie was with him. He wanted to show her the world, wanted to see it anew through her eyes.
He found her in the kitchen, loading dishes into the dishwasher, when he arrived that evening.
Moving up behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “You smell so good,” he murmured.
“I bought a new shampoo.”
“I wasn’t talking about your hair.”
She stilled in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Sometimes I just can’t help myself.”
She turned in his embrace. “How can you smell my blood?”
“I don’t know, but it’s driving me crazy. Why aren’t you wearing your crucifix?”
“I left it in the bathroom after I took a shower. Do I need it?”
“No.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and backed away from her. “Shall we watch some TV before you go to work?”
“Okay.”
They settled on the sofa in the den, his arm around her shoulders. He loved sharing his house with Cassie. Loved spending so much time with her. She was good company, easy to get along with, a tidy housekeeper. For the first time since he’d been a young boy, he had a home. A real home. True, there were nights when the scent of frying meat turned his stomach, nights when his need to taste her tested every bit of his self-control, but it was a small price to pay for the happiness she brought him.
There was only one drawback. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her. He had kept his desire in check for so long that just holding Cassie in his arms was sometimes painful. As his need to make love to her grew ever stronger, so did his desire for her blood. Holding her close, kissing her, touching her skin, her hair, listening to the strong, steady beat of her heart.... He blew out a shaky breath in an effort to cool his ardor.
“Johnny?”
“What?” he asked, his voice thick with barely suppressed need.
“You’re hurting me.”
It took him a moment to realize his fingers were digging into her shoulder. Lowering his arm, he muttered, “Sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.” Pushing off of the sofa, he put some distance between them.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Then, seeing the taut lines of his face, the faint red glow in his eyes, she said, “Oh.”
Hands tightly clenched, he let his gaze lower to the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat.
“Johnny?”
“I need to go out.”
Cassie bit down on her lower lip, unable to believe what she was about to say. “Would it help if you . . . you drank from me?”
“Maybe.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know.” It might help to ease his hunger and satisfy his curiosity, he thought. Then again, it might make it worse. “Go get the crucifix.”
She hurried to do as bidden. In the bathroom, she took several deep breaths as she picked up the chain and slipped it over her head. The silver, thick and strong and reassuring, felt cold against her skin.
In the living room, she perched on the edge of the sofa. “What should I do?”
“Just stay still.” He sat beside her. Slipped his arm around her waist. Pushed her hair out of the way. “If you get scared, just hit me in the face with the cross.”
Nodding, she clenched her fingers around the crucifix. “Will it hurt? When you . . . you bite me?”
“No,” he said, his voice tight. “Are you ready?”
“Wait! It won’t turn me into a vampire, will it?”
“Definitely not.”
“Okay, then.” Her whole body tensed as his arm tightened around her.
“Relax,” he said, though he had to admit his own nerves were wound tighter than a spring. He kissed her cheek. And then, as gently as he could, he bit her just below her ear, careful to avoid the chain around her neck.
Cassie let out a gasp of surprise that quickly turned to a sigh of pleasure. Who would have thought something so gross would feel so amazing? For a moment, caught up in the thrill of it, she closed her eyes. Only to open them seconds later. What if he was taking too much? How was she to know? She lifted her hand, wondering if she should press the cross to his cheek. She heard his voice telling her that silver against preternatural flesh burned like hell and left a nasty scar. She didn’t want to hurt him. But she didn’t want to die, either. Before she could decide, he lifted his head.
Her gaze searched his. “Did it help?”
He nodded. Then, cupping her cheek in his palm, he kissed her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You never told me it would feel so wonderful. Why didn’t it hurt? I mean, I’ve seen your fangs. They look very sharp.”
“I can make it hurt the next time, if you like.”
“What makes you so sure there will be a next time?”
He grinned a knowing grin. “Because you liked it the first time.”
“How do vampires make other vampires? I saw a movie where the vampire had to bite the girl three times to change her. But in Dracula, he drank her blood and then she had to drink his.”
“Are you thinking of joining the ranks of the Undead?”
“Heavens, no! Just curious.”
“The film, Dracula, had the right idea. To turn you, I’d have to drain you to the point of death and then give you some of my blood.”
“Eww. That sounds worse than gross. And dangerous. What if you took too much by mistake? Would I die?”
“Probably.”
“Have you ever turned anyone?”
“No. That’s one thing I don’t have on my conscience.”
“So, vampires don’t go around making lots of other ones?”
He shook his head. “No. Too many vampires would only draw unwanted attention to our kind. It’s safer for the public, and for us, if we keep our numbers small.”
“What happens when you make a new one?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do they stay with you?”
“Your sire—that’s what you call whoever made you—is supposed to stay with you for a year or so while you’re a new vampire—a fledgling. They’re supposed to teach you how to hunt, hopefully how to feed without killing your prey. Teach you what you can and can’t do.”
“Kind of like vampire kindergarten?”
He grinned at her. “I guess you could call it that.”
“Was your sire a good teacher?”
“I wouldn’t know. He turned me and left me.” Funny, that still rankled, even after all these years.
“But you survived.”
“Barely.”
“Were you scared?”
“Terrified. I woke up in a cave not knowing what had happened to me. Or what I had become. I had a voracious hunger, but I didn’t know what I was craving.” He paused. “Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s not a very pretty story.”
She nodded, fascinated by what she was learning.
“I came across a man who was bleeding. As soon as I smelled the blood, I went kind of crazy. I attacked him and drained him dry.” The guilt he felt for that man’s death and the others that followed plagued him to this day. “It took me a while to learn that I didn’t have to kill,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “That I could satisfy my hellish thirst without doing any harm.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. Your sire is accountable for those lives, not you.”
“There’s no excuse for what I did. I was a priest.” He groaned low in his throat. “I was supposed to provide comfort and ease suffering, not take human life.”
Hearing the anguish in his voice, Cassie put her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Johnny. But I’m so glad you survived.”
He buried his face in her shoulder, finding a measure of peace in her touch, in the nonsense words she crooned as she stroked his hair. He had done nothing to deserve her, he thought, even as he murmured a silent prayer of thanks that Cassie Douglas had come into his life.
* * *
I’ve been bitten by a vampire. It was Cassie’s last thought as she tumbled into sleep that night, her first when she woke the next morning.
Sitting up, she lifted a hand to her neck. Had it left a permanent mark, like in the movies? If she looked in a mirror, would she find two little puncture wounds in the side of her neck? Would she have to wear scarves the rest of her life?
Curious, she threw back the covers and padded into the bathroom. Opening a drawer, she pulled out her hand mirror and turned her head this way and that, but found no telltale marks.
“You’re in love with a vampire, Cassie,” she told the image in the mirror. “So, what are you going to do now?”
What did people do when they fell in love with a creature of the night? She supposed there were only two options—stay or go. The third option popped, unwanted, into her mind. Or she could become a vampire, too.
She grimaced at her image. “Do you think there are people who actually want to be turned?”
She couldn’t imagine it. And yet . . . he had told her that some of the women he considered family had asked to become vampires. What if Johnny asked her to marry him? It was a long shot, sure, but the man had been a priest. He was still a virgin. Did that mean he didn’t believe in sex outside of marriage, even though he was no longer a practicing clergyman? Did she love him enough to give up her humanity to be with him? How did anyone make a life-changing decision like that?
With a shake of her head, she put the mirror back in the drawer, then turned on the shower. She absently massaged the side of her neck while she waited for the water to heat, then stepped under the spray. Johnny was still a virgin.
Would he still care for her when he learned she wasn’t?