Drawn to the Vampire (Blood and Absinthe, Book 4) (22 page)

Damn him, anyway. How dare he stay virtuously upstairs while she lay down here feeling like…like…

Okay, so he was probably right about not letting anything happen between them. For one crazy moment last night she’d wanted him to claim her, but in her heart she knew she wasn’t ready for that.

But did that mean they couldn’t have anything?

Luke kept telling her to trust herself, to listen to her body. Well, she was listening now.

Her determination carried her up the spiral staircase to the outside of Luke’s door. She hesitated only a moment before turning the knob and crossing the threshold.

“Kit? Is everything all right?”

Her eyes adjusted to the mix of firelight and shadow, and she could see Luke sitting up on the mattress he’d laid on the floor.

She cleared her throat. “There’s a blizzard outside.”

He chuckled at that. “It is a little windy, yes. Did you come up here to give me an update on the weather?”

She closed the door and leaned back against it. She was wearing a tee shirt and sweatpants but her feet were bare, and the stone stairs had been like blocks of ice. “It’s much warmer up here than in my room.”

“The fireplace in your room is bigger than this one. If you just took the trouble to—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Luke! Just invite me into your bed. I want…I want to feel your arms around me. You can do that without unleashing the unholy beast within, can’t you?”

It was the first time she’d ever propositioned a man, even a proposition as innocent as this one, and in the silence that followed her request she felt like a girl who’d just asked a guy to the prom.

“You want to sleep with me?” he asked hesitantly. “Sleep beside me, I mean?” he added quickly.

“Yes.” She grinned suddenly. “I promise I won’t try to seduce you. To be honest, I wouldn’t have a clue how to go about it. But it’s awfully lonely downstairs, and the wind is howling, and I thought—”

“Come here,” Luke said, and Kit was so relieved her knees felt weak. In high school, she never did ask the boy she liked to the prom.

She crossed the room to his makeshift bed, where he held the covers open for her. He was wearing sweatpants but no shirt, and his bare chest was golden in the light of the fire. With a feeling half of nervousness, half of relief, Kit slipped in beside him.

He pulled her close, tucking the blankets around them into a warm cocoon, and Kit closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Luke’s bare chest, breathing in his scent.

Her feet were the last part of her to warm up.

Surprisingly, she slept, more sweetly and soundly than she would have imagined possible. When her eyes opened again the cold gray light of early morning was creeping in through the high, narrow windows.

She turned her head and saw Luke sleeping beside her. He lay on his back, uncovered, since she had, apparently, pulled the blankets around herself in the night.

His chest was like sculpted alabaster, broad and strong, his stomach muscles ripped like a body builder’s. His hip bones angled down and inwards, leading the eye inevitably towards…

Bad thoughts. Back up to his chest, his shoulders, the strong lines of his neck, and most of all his face. Without thinking Kit reached out a hand to brush the hair away from his forehead, and then she let her fingers trace the lines of his cheek bones, his jaw, his lips.

She realized with a sudden shock that his eyes were open. She jerked her hand away and felt herself blush from head to toe.

“Sorry,” she muttered, scooting away from him to the edge of the mattress. He rolled over onto his side and faced her, smiling slightly. He reached out a hand and touched the side of her face, and the feel of his calloused fingers moving so gently over her skin made her tremble.

“Turnabout is fair play,” he said in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine.

“I think this is the thing we’re not supposed to do,” she said huskily. His hand stilled, and withdrew.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “But you’re the one who started it.”

“Sorry.”

They lay on their sides facing each other, and Kit wondered what to call the shade of Luke’s eyes. Sapphire? Lapis lazuli?

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, finally.

“Amazingly well,” she answered. “I think we should do this every night.”

“Vixen,” he said softly.

“Not at all,” she said virtuously, grinning at him. “I didn’t make a single move on you last night. Did I?”

“No,” Luke said, reaching out once more as if he couldn’t help himself, and threading his fingers through her hair. The sensation raised prickling goose bumps on her scalp, and her stomach muscles clenched. She scooted a little further away and fell off the mattress onto the floor.

“Oof!”

Luke smiled at her as she scrambled to her feet. “For a girl who’s as graceful as a cat in a fight, you sure are clumsy in the bedroom. Are you sure you want to do this again?”

“Yes,” she said seriously. “I want to be as close to you as I can before I…oh, who are we kidding, Luke? You know there’s a chance I won’t win the harp. And if I don’t, there’s only one other way I can—”

In a flash he was up and on his feet, gripping her shoulders. “Don’t say that,” he growled, letting just a hint of yellow into his eyes. “Don’t admit the possibility of defeat. You have to
know
you’re going to succeed. Say it, Kit!”

She bit her lip, feeling his fingers digging into the muscles of her upper arms. “It would be a lie,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Luke. I’ve only ever fought you, and for all I know, maybe you’ve been letting me win.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Are you mad? With everything that’s at stake, you think I’d give you anything but my full strength? I’ve been giving you everything I’ve got, Kit. Why would you doubt that?”

“Maybe because—” she stopped herself.

“What?”

Should she admit this to him? “Maybe because I…like fighting you. Maybe that makes it seem less real, or something.”

He let her go and backed up a few paces. “You like fighting me?”

“I guess you think that’s pretty weird.”

He shook his head. “No. I like fighting you, too. But that hasn’t made our training bouts less real. I promise you that. I think it’s the fighting itself you relish, not just fighting me. You were born to be a warrior. I think you might have been called like your brother, but you resisted. What you’re discovering now is something that was always there. Your true nature.”

A terrible thought occurred to her. “If I hadn’t resisted the call, I’d be a Green Fae warrior now. I’d be what the legend says I am. I’d be able to win the harp. By turning my back on this part of myself, I’ve put my brother’s life at risk.”

“It’s not that simple. Logic, computers, your love of science—those things are part of you, too. You’re unique, Kit. Many-faceted. You’re not just one thing or another. And you’ll win the harp tomorrow.”

“I haven’t had enough time!”

“Yes, you have. If we had a year to train together I couldn’t give you all the technique of a seasoned fighter, but we haven’t been trying for that anyway. Your advantage isn’t going to be particular moves or footwork or anything that can be taught.”

“Let me guess,” Kit said dryly. “Instinct?”

“That’s right,” Luke said, smiling.

Kit combed her hands through her hair. “Tell me about these people. The Order of Arthur. Do they live in secret? Like the Knights Templar, or something?”

Luke’s smile became a grin. “No. They most emphatically do not. The blokes we’re going to see tomorrow practice another ancient family trade: inn keeping. They run the best pub in Wales, so after your bout we’ll be able to kick back with a beer.”

Kit looked at him suspiciously. “Please tell me that winning the harp of Taliesin is still our main goal.”

“Absolutely,” he assured her. “The drinks are just a bonus.”

* * *

It was a good day. She worked out fiercely, reveling in the physical exertion, and this time when she fought Luke, in a duel with swords—not the dull blades they’d been using for practice, but the real thing—she felt for the first time a kind of cool confidence.

Maybe confidence wasn’t quite the right word. That implied a sense of the future, and this was more a feeling of being in the moment so completely that she couldn’t be surprised or caught off guard. She let the past and future fall away, leaving only the bare point where linear time touched eternity. The present.

When they finished Luke was shaking his head. “I’ve taught you everything I can. Now you’re teaching me. You’re ready to fight a duel with anyone, anywhere. Those lads in Aberystwyth don’t stand a chance.”

Kit nodded, panting. “I did feel good today. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m getting cocky.”

“A little cockiness might not be a bad thing for you. You tend to underestimate yourself. I’m glad you’re starting to feel like the warrior you are.”

She wiped the sweat from her brow and grinned. “Thanks.”

He smiled back at her. “Anytime. Now, how about dinner and an early bedtime?”

Heat flooded her without warning. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about bedtime, about how much she wanted to be in Luke’s arms again.

“Sounds good,” she managed, and a few minutes later they walked together to the kitchens to forage for supper.

* * *

It was different this time, Luke thought almost desperately. Last night had been so simple, so peaceful…the two of them had fallen asleep in each other’s arms like a couple of innocents. But now…

Now he was as far from sleep as he’d ever been in his life. Every cell, every nerve ending, was wide awake and craving the woman who nestled against him. He was so conscious of his own body he couldn’t read hers, couldn’t tell if her heart was racing, her blood heating. For all he knew, she was sleeping peacefully.

“Luke?”

Well, at least she wasn’t asleep.

“What?”

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

“Okay, it was a dumb question.”

She’d been facing away from him, her back curved against his chest, but now she twisted in his arms so they were facing each other. The firelight played on her face as she looked at him. For once, Luke was glad he didn’t have a heart that could pound.

“I can’t sleep,” Kit said.

Luke hesitated. “Maybe I should go back upstairs.”

Her hands tightened on his arms. “No! I want you to stay. Maybe we can talk until we get tired.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

Her eyes looked into his. “I want to know more about you,” she said. “Tell me how you became a vampire.”

“I thought you already knew. Wasn’t that one of the things you told me that first day? You said you knew what had happened to me in Carmarthen in 1604.”

“I know that’s when you were turned. But I don’t know how, or why, or anything else about it.”

It had happened so long ago that it was like recalling a play he’d seen or a book he’d read in the distant past.

“It was my mother.”

“Your
mother
turned you into a vampire?”

“Not exactly. But she paid the man who did.”

Kit stared at him. “Why on earth would she do that?”

“Because there was a plague outbreak in Carmarthen in 1604. My brother and his baby daughter died of it. My mother was half out of her mind with grief, and when a mysterious stranger told her he could give her other son eternal life, she begged me to let him do it, for her sake.”

“Did you want him to?”

“I thought he was a charlatan. I thought he’d give me a drink of water and say it was a magic elixir, or something. Of course I was wrong.”

Kit was quiet for a moment. “What happened after you were turned?”

“A fledgling vampire’s bloodlust is overwhelming. I was afraid of what I might do to the people I cared about—my friends and family. So I left with my maker.”

“Where did you go?”

“London. On the way there my maker was killed by a werewolf, so I was left to figure out how to control my nature on my own. It wasn’t easy.”

“But you did it.”

“Eventually. But it wasn’t until I came to Snowdon and met Merton that I was able to fully master myself. Merton gave me a place to live in the country of my birth, and work to do that I enjoyed. In return, all he asked was that I restrain myself from killing humans. I had been struggling to do that on my own for centuries, but I found that Merton’s faith in me gave me the strength to succeed.”

“What
is
Merton? He’s not a vampire.”

“No. I’ve wondered about that many times, but my curiosity has never been satisfied. Merton doesn’t talk about himself. I know he has psychic ability, and I can sense powerful magic within him, but that’s all. We’re friends in a manner of speaking, but we don’t pry into one another’s affairs.”

Kit looked at him thoughtfully. “Why did you go to the land of the dead?”

“Because you—”

“No, not with me. I mean the first time.”

“Oh.” Would there be any harm in telling her? “For the last hundred years or so I’ve been on a sort of…quest.”

Interest sparked in her eyes. “A quest for what?”

He hesitated. “Humanity,” he said at last.

“Humanity? What do you mean?”

“I’ve been a vampire for a very long time. Merton gave me a home here, and taught me how to subdue my nature, but after several decades I began to wish for…”

“For what?”

“For things I no longer had. I missed…” he shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ll understand this. But I grew up in an era of faith, and I missed my hope of heaven.”

Kit’s brow furrowed. “You mean…you missed your religion?”

“It’s more than that.” He’d never talked about this with another person, and it was hard to find the words now. “Vampires are immortal…unless we’re killed, of course. If that happens, our legends tell us we’re consigned to a version of hell. Not the Hades you and I just visited, but a demon afterlife in a different dimension.”

He hesitated. “In order to be admitted to heaven, you must be human. Humans give up one kind of immortality in exchange for another. They submit to the tyranny of time, of change, of old age and death. And by surrendering to that great indignity, by accepting impermanence, humans are given another life. True eternity.”