Stealing Time (13 page)

“Happily, no. They’ve maintained a steady, but small, presence throughout the centuries. So long as we abide by our treaty with the Church—which includes not publicizing our presence to humans—both the slayers and our kind remain in shadows. It’s an uneasy truce, but it has held for over a thousand years.”

I shook my head.

“What?”

“Slayers, Elder Law, strangers wanting to eat my old roommate. Being a vampire isn’t quite as carefree as I might have imagined.”

James chuckled.

I thought about what he’d said. “So how did Kore get away with killing all those college boys the night of the rave? I got the feeling that wasn’t the first time she’s done something like that. Surely someone would notice so many corpses—the police, the medical examiner, crime reporters.”

“Kore is a menace to humans and our kind alike. If she were not so clever disposing of her victims, Abasi would have stepped in long ago.” James laughed without humor. “Or a slayer would have staked her.”

“Abasi?”

“The oldest of us all. As an Ancient, Kore is above Elder Law, and can only be judged and punished by Abasi.”

The face of the college boy who’d been drained right in front of us flitted through my mind. I’d had the awful distinction of seeing a lot of bodies in my career and their faces haunted me still, with the student’s topping the macabre list. “How does Kore get rid of the bodies?”

James turned haunted eyes to me. “You don’t really want to know, Evie.”

Sensing that it would bother James to talk about Kore’s “clever” disposal methods, I suppressed the urge to push for an answer. Still, curiosity was nipping at me—a trait that made me a top-notch reporter, but not always the best conversationalist.

“What about the vampires who hunt humans one at a time?” I asked. “Each of their victims dies. So why doesn’t that violate the treaty?”

“The treaty doesn’t say we cannot kill humans or Abasi would not have agreed to it. For that matter, neither would the vast majority of vampires.”

“I’m surprised the slayers went along with it, though. Aren’t they trying to protect human life?”

James scowled. “The slayers take something of a Puritanical view of God’s will. They believe that humans stupid enough to be caught and killed by a vampire must have offended God in some way, which makes their death justified.” He fell silent as a crowd of humans brushed past us, impatient with our slower pace. When they were well past, he said, “The treaty isn’t about saving lives. It’s about the balance of power, supernatural vs. mundane. It forbids us to reveal ourselves to mortals, influence their political structures and kill slayers.”

“Nothing like special interest groups.” I made a face. “So we can’t go on
Oprah
and announce we’ve knocked humans off the top of the food chain. But we can kill anybody we want, so long as it stays a dirty little secret.”

“That is an accurate assessment.”

I noticed that our path home was different from the way we’d come and remarked on it.

He answered with visible relief at the subject change. “In case Jack is not so agreeable as he seemed, I do not want us to go straight home and risk being followed.”

We cut across a street when traffic permitted and entered Central Park. James glanced sharply up at the trees overhead. “Do you see? In the top of the tree there.”

I looked where he indicated and spotted the peregrine falcon in the highest branches. “The falcon?”

“Yes. He’s not quite what he appears to be.”

“He appears to be a falcon.”

“He is that…at the moment. But he’s also human.” James laughed at my expression.

“Umm…what?”

“It’s a whole other world, Evie,” he said, grinning. “They call themselves morphs, which is short for metamorphs. They’re shape-changers. It takes some practice, but you can tell them apart from true animals by their scent and energy signatures. It’s very subtle, but both characteristics retain hints of their humanity if you know what to look for.”

It took me a few minutes to find my voice. “Are there a lot of morphs in New York?”

“No. They tend to prefer small cities and open country, since it would be odd for animals to run around a city of this size. Especially for those morphs who favor the larger predators.” He spoke casually, as if this were an every day topic. “Even so, many love New York and wouldn’t live anywhere else. It’s why the city has such a large falcon population. And there certainly are plenty of pigeons to hunt.”

I wrapped my mind around this. “Do they know about us?”

“Yes. But preternaturals tend to avoid one another. Still, there’s no reason not to be polite.” As we passed the tree, he dipped his head. The falcon bowed and made a sound like
ee-chup,
before launching itself into the sky.

“Beautiful,” I breathed. “What must that be like?”

“I can only imagine.”

“James?”

“Hmm?” he responded as his eyes followed the bird.

“You never did tell me why I reacted that way to your anger.”

He glanced sideways at me. “It’s related to instincts.”

“So will I want to bash someone’s head in every time you get angry?” I laughed.

“It’s not often I lose my temper.” He smiled benignly.

I studied his profile. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

“I wasn’t sure how you would feel to know that mates sense and react to one another’s strong emotion. Much the way our eyes change color.”

“Do mine? I thought only yours did, from light green to almost black.”

“When we are close, especially when we are loving one another, your eyes become like liquid silver. And when you are angry, they are the color of a thunderhead…right before an F5 tornado touches ground.”

I had to laugh at his rueful expression.

Putting his arm around my waist, he hugged me to his side. “Such signs speak of great affection even when the words may be difficult to say.”

My breath caught and I wondered how to respond. We walked a block or so before I found my voice. “You said ‘mates.’ Is that like boyfriend-girlfriend?”

He tilted his face to the sky as if he was thinking and I was fascinated that his cheeks were flushed. “Umm, something a bit more permanent, given the immortality thing.”

“Oh.”

James looked down at me and his eyes were gentle. “But if you wish to think of us in those terms, I don’t mind.”

Conflicting emotions roared through my head, through my heart. Joy, fear, exultation, anxiety. I settled for a smile and felt my cheeks turn scarlet. “So…do you also feel it when I am upset?”

“Dearest Evie,” he said softly, “do you recall when the two men in suits almost ran into us and it made you angry?”

I nodded.

“It was all I could do not to tear their throats out.”

Strangely enough, those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard. But, being me, I couldn’t leave a tender moment alone. “Talking about throats, your agent is something else—even a changeling wouldn’t bite her. And she doesn’t strike me as a hippie-chick, but that tattoo of hers was one of the strangest I’ve seen.”

Sounding amused, James asked, “What did it look like?”

“Two crossed gold daggers, outlined in purple.”

Alarm rolled off him in waves as he pulled me to a stop. “Where was the tattoo?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Evie, where was the tattoo?” His voice was low and I could sense how his power resisted his control.

“The top of her right wrist. Where a watch would go,” I said, stiffening against my reaction to his turmoil. “What’s going on?”

“Did the tattoo look fresh?”

“That was what caught my attention. The colors were vivid and her skin was red, like she’d recently gotten it. Is that significant?”

“I’ve been identified as a vampire.” He shook his head, bewildered. “How is this possible? I have always been so careful…”

“Hello?” I waved a hand in front of his face. “Talk to me.”

“The mark you described is given to members of the
Guerrieri Sacri
, the so-called Holy Warriors, an old branch of the Roman Catholic Church.”

“This is significant why?”

“Because they are slayers.”

I suppressed a growl. “Your art agent is a freaking
slayer?
She wants to kill you?”

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, anger barely restrained. “It would explain her increasingly aggressive efforts to get me to go public.” At my quizzical look, he said, “My doing so would bring me too close to violating the treaty. I’d be signing my own death warrant.”

“That
bitch,
” I snarled and my fangs extended as I pivoted to retrace our steps. James caught me before I’d gone ten feet and held me still.

“We can’t kill her.” He pulled me against his chest and ran a soothing hand down my back. “But I don’t believe I’ll be needing her services any longer.”

“How can you joke about this? She tried to set you up. To have you murdered.” My body trembled with the need to do violence.

“It is not as if we can report her to anyone.” His tone was reasonable, but I sensed an undercurrent of resignation that stabbed me to my soul. “We cannot go to the police—we’re not even supposed to exist. And if we did convince the authorities that we are real, who do you think they would side with? They would see us as an abomination.”

“But…we can’t just give up…”

James chuckled, an evil sound I heartily approved of. “I said nothing of giving up.”

I tilted my head back to meet his gaze.

“We’re going to do a little reconnaissance tonight and see what dear Lilith with her fresh, fascist tattoo has been up to,” he muttered.

We were sitting in the kitchen, having just finished “dinner,” and were waiting for midnight before doing our stealth-vampire shtick at Lilith’s. Or maybe it should be ninja-vampire, since I was really hoping an opportunity to kill the duplicitous bitch would present itself.

To hell with the treaty.

I caught James gazing at me, an indecipherable expression in his eyes. “What?”

Effortlessly lifting me onto the counter, he stood next to me, his thumb drawing circles on my palm. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Not having told you how I feel,” he said softly. Sitting on the counter, I was closer to James’s height than when standing, so he didn’t have far to lean to kiss my forehead. He let the kiss linger.

Anxiety set my pulse hammering. Criminy, guys were supposed to be the ones who were ill-equipped for discussing feelings—not women. Of course, I’d never been much of a girl.

Keeping my voice light, I said, “Really, that’s okay. You don’t need to…”

“Yes, I do. I have shown you every way I know how, the depth of my feelings for you. But I haven’t spoken it plainly. Evie, I am in love with you.” He drew a ragged breath. “I understand if you cannot speak the words, but I wanted you to know my heart…”

He trailed off as my fingers touched his lips. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him, but he should know just what he was getting into. Having had exactly one lover before James, no one could accuse me of promiscuity. But there was a huge difference between being comfortable with the incredible sex and my increasingly strong feelings for James, and daring to think about a long, long,
long
-term commitment.

With probably a couple more “longs” thrown in.

Making myself focus, I said, “What about the next part?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What happens next.”

He smiled tenderly. “And they lived happily ever after.”

“But that’s just it. Do they? Do we? There’s so much wrong with the world. It just seems like painting a big ole target on ourselves to try to make anything permanent. Geez, in our case, we’re talking
eternity
-permanent.”

“The world can take care of itself.”

Throwing my hands up, I ranted, “How can you have lived so long and still be so naïve? ‘The world’ isn’t a benevolent place. Hell, it’s not even a neutral, uninvolved third party. It’s…it’s pancreatic cancer and dump trucks and slayers and old-as-dirt vampires with their stupid freaking laws!”

I expected his anger and was surprised when, instead, he smiled gently. “Fierce, independent Evie, always ready for a fight. But not everything in life is difficult. Sometimes, when you’re not looking for it and have no reason to ever imagine it, a miracle just happens. And you, Evelyn Reed, you are my very own miracle.”

I sat back, momentarily speechless. That he would allow himself to be so vulnerable shook me—people just don’t do that. They don’t just lay it all out there and trust that the other person won’t smash their hearts to shit. Not in my experience.

He studied my expression. “I have surprised you?”

“You could say that.” Giving myself a shake, I tried again. “Look, it’s one thing to live day to day, happy in the moment, with no expectations about, well, the next few centuries. It’s another thing entirely to think that planning for a future is going to do anything except tempt fate or destiny to step in and screw you over.”

James tilted his head, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Evie, I will never abandon you.”

My breath caught. “You think…you think I’m afraid because of Mama.”

He said gently, “I didn’t mention your mother.”

“No.” I breathed in and out a few times, badly shaken. “No, you didn’t,” I whispered.

Grief for me darkened James’s eyes and his hand trembled as he brushed my hair from my face. “All I need to know is that you care for me, Evie.”

“Yes. I do.” Dammit, saying so little should not have been so hard. Especially when he deserved so much more.

“Then I am a happy man, indeed,” he murmured, leaning to kiss me with infinite care, as if I might break. As if I were precious.

My turmoil morphed into an urgent determination to at least
show
him how I felt. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pressed against him and kissed him. He made low, soothing sounds in the back of his throat and held me close. His strong hands caressed my lower back, and the heat of his palms was both comforting and arousing.

I slid my own hands up his flat belly and ribs to encircle his neck, listening to his heartbeat speed up. Tugging his head down, I deepened the kiss and smiled against his lips as my pulse matched his.