The Vampire Shrink (12 page)

He laughed. “I enjoy it when you struggle. It excites me. I'm not sure you really want to know what I want. Let's just keep it a surprise, shall we?”

Bryce lifted a piece of his long hair and brushed it against my cheek. “You really are quite lovely. All that long, dark hair and sexy eyes—I can see why Devereux is attracted to you. I'm here because I overheard him talking about you to my little servant, Midnight. I think he's quite smitten with you, and nothing would make me happier than to keep Devereux from having something he wants or, even better, to take it away from him once he has it.”

“No one has me,” I said, despite the fact that I had no idea what he was talking about and the part of my mind that had floated away was still missing in action. False bravado was one of my favorite defenses. Never let the violently delusional know you're afraid.

All this time the smaller man had been laughing and slapping his leg with one hand. I slanted a glance at him, and he showed me his top row of teeth, exposing a very real-looking set of fangs. He definitely had the best pair of fakes I'd seen so far. I wasn't sure what kind of reaction he thought I'd have to his cosmetic dentistry, but I obviously didn't give him whatever facial expression he wanted, because he lurched at me. I recoiled from his touch.

“I could rip your throat out with these,” he growled.

Abnormally fast, Bryce reached over, grabbed the small man by the throat, and threw him onto the floor. “Leave her alone, Raleigh. I told you—she's mine.”

Raleigh glared at Bryce, making noises that sounded more animal than human. Then he got up off the floor, stumbled to the nearest couch, and stretched out, lacing his fingers behind his head.

She's mine? What does that mean? Am I his to harm, or—? This is bad. I wish I could find the “on” switch for my brain.

I hadn't worked with any physically dangerous or psychotic clients since my residency at the psychiatric ward during medical school. Now I tried to remember the skills I'd learned for dealing with them. Since I'd seen Bryce throw the small man around like a cardboard cutout, I knew I had no chance of doing anything that required physical strength. I thought my only hope would be to use my tools as a therapist. Maybe I could reason with him. Or maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. I definitely needed to keep a clear head, and that had become a problem.

Bryce turned his attention back to me and searched for something in my expression. He leaned in, ran his tongue over my lips, and then kissed me again.

I twisted my face away. “Stop it! Get away from me!”

He angrily shoved my chair back from the desk, stood up, and lifted me, holding me like a child in his arms.

I pushed ineffectually against his chest and kicked my legs, trying to get him to put me down, and for one sick moment I was reminded of a scene from that old science fiction movie
The Day the Earth Stood Still
, where the robot picks up the woman, and she can't get away. Bryce felt that cold and alien to me.

I still had little control of my limbs, and I was forced to acknowledge that this situation wasn't likely to have a happy ending. “Let me go! What are you doing?”

He walked me over to a couch back against the far wall. The motions I made with my arms and legs were pitifully useless. I hated feeling helpless. I thought about all the opportunities I'd had to take self-defense classes and how I'd always come up with some excuse to avoid them. I didn't know if learning to take down a man wearing a big foam helmet would have helped me fight off these two vampire wannabes, but it would have been better than nothing.

“Let's have a therapy session.” He sat on the couch and held me tight in his lap. I kept pushing against him, getting more and more pissed about whatever he'd done to cause this bizarre almost-paralysis, but his arms were steel bands. The sweet, coppery smell that rode his breath was stronger now.

“What do you want? Why did you come here?” I demanded, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Maybe I need someone to talk to,” he replied in a fake whining voice. He opened the top button of my blouse and ran his finger across the exposed skin. “Maybe I'm just a lonely vampire searching for my soul mate. What do you think?” He laughed, enjoying some private joke, and then he recovered himself. “Actually, I've already found my soul mate, but Devereux isn't cooperating. In fact, he was obsessed with you, even before you physically showed up. How pathetic is that?”

Devereux? His soul mate?

“But never fear,” he said. “I will deal with you and show him the error of his ways. He might be angry with me for a while, but he'll come around. Now, let's talk about you. I hear you don't believe in vampires. I thought I'd change your mind. Watch.”

He lifted his top lip so I could see the upper row of teeth, and as I watched, his canines grew longer and longer until they protruded a good quarter to a half inch below his other teeth. Then they contracted back up into their normal place and extended again, as if he could will them to move in and out of his gums. He grinned at me. “How do you explain that?”

Shit. Another psycho magician.

“I can't explain it.” I stared at his mouth, trying to figure out how the trick fangs worked.

Keep him talking …

“Go ahead,” he leered, his eyes sparkling. “Touch them.”

Touch them? I wasn't going to stick my fingers in some psychopath's mouth. He'd probably bite me. I didn't want to think about where those teeth had been.

“No. That isn't necessary—I believe you.”
Placate the lunatic.

“Oh, but I insist.” He grabbed my hand and forced it up toward his mouth, laying the tip of my index finger on one of his fangs. It contracted while I touched it, and I was able to snatch my hand away. Maybe my instincts could override whatever he'd done to me after all.

He sneered. “I'm old enough to have total control of my fangs, but if you get me aroused or angry enough, they seem to have a mind of their own. And right now I'm feeling very aroused.”

Breathe, Kismet. Stay calm.

“You don't have to hurt me. Why don't we talk about your feelings—?”

“I don't think so.” He grabbed my hand again and shoved it down into his lap, which was filled with a large erection. “Let me show you something else with a mind of its own.”

Oh no. This can't be happening.

In one quick motion he had me lying flat on the couch with him on top of me, roughly pressing his lips against mine. Bile rising in my throat, I pushed at him again, my muscles finally deciding to cooperate, but he grabbed my wrists, holding them over my head in a vise-like grip as he forced his tongue into my mouth. Terror flooded my brain. After a few seconds, he kissed his way down to my neck, and then, with a flash of pain, he bit me.

I screamed and kicked and shoved against him in a futile effort to dislodge an immovable object. I tried to raise my knee to administer the only effective self-defense strategy I knew, but he weighed on me like a slab of cement, and I thought that maybe I wouldn't have to worry about him raping me because he'd probably crush or smother me first.

He made loud sucking sounds at the wound on my neck, and I started to feel light-headed. Suddenly the pain stopped, and I opened my eyes, which I hadn't realized I'd closed. He wasn't on top of me anymore. I heard male voices yelling and the sound of furniture being pushed around.

I sat up, feeling like the morning after, and saw Devereux and Bryce struggling with each other, dancers in a strange ballet. Raleigh was nowhere in sight.

Watching the two of them was surprisingly entrancing, and I couldn't shift my eyes away. It was as if they moved in slow motion. I was fascinated by Devereux's light-blond hair contrasted against Bryce's dark, silky veil. I hallucinated that their hair was flowing out around their heads as if they were submerged underwater, and while some part of me knew that couldn't really be happening, I was lost in the spectacle.

The harsh sound of Devereux's angry words jarred me out of my trance.

“If you touch her again, I will kill you,” he bellowed in an unnaturally amplified voice. “She is under my protection now. Ignore that at your peril.” He released Bryce, who laughed in his face and then vanished.

Literally
vanished
.

I stared at the empty place where Bryce had been and tried to coax the neurons in my brain to fire in some helpful way. I blinked quickly a few times to clear the fog. Perfect. I'd finally lost my mind.

That didn't just happen. I must be sleeping.

Devereux straightened his clothing, smoothed his hair back from his face, and walked over to me. He sat down, opened his arms, and I sagged against him, forgetting for a moment that I had my suspicions about his mental state, and allowed myself to be held. I could hear his heart beating and felt his warm breath on the side of my face.

We just sat like that, with him holding me, collapsed and shaking against him, for several minutes.

“Did he hurt you?” Devereux asked. “I could not live with myself if I failed to arrive in time to keep you safe. I never thought Bryce would risk my anger by coming here. I made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me. I will pay much closer attention in the future.”

“Thank you, I'm okay,” I mumbled, but I didn't know what I was thanking him for. Had he appointed himself my bodyguard? Was he saying that he was the reason I'd been attacked? Since Bryce said Devereux was his soul mate, was this some kind of lovers' quarrel I'd gotten in the middle of?

“No, it is not a lovers' quarrel,” Devereux said, responding to my unstated question. “We have never been lovers. Bryce refuses to accept the fact that I do not return his feelings. I am not as he wishes me to be, despite his many attempts to sway me. I have no judgments against bisexuality, but that is not my preference. His irrational jealousy has caused him to wreak havoc in the vampire community. He believes if he takes over the coven, he will coerce me into doing his bidding. He is wrong. He has made a fatal error now by involving you.”

Involving me? That didn't sound good. Devereux stroked my hair, and I surrendered to the calming rhythm of his hand. I didn't know how to make sense out of anything that had happened. I prided myself on my logical mind, and none of the puzzle pieces fit. My body was in shock, and the wound on my neck throbbed. I couldn't really have seen someone disappear before my eyes. That was impossible. It was probably a delusion triggered by the attack. But it had looked so real.

I was grateful to find that all my clothes were still buttoned, snapped, and zipped. Thankfully, Bryce hadn't had the time to follow through on his intention to penetrate more than my neck.

I'd listened to many rape and assault victims talk about their horrible experiences, but I'd never truly understood how it felt to be at the mercy of someone who meant you harm. I sat there drowning in an unfamiliar mishmash of feelings, second-guessing myself about what I could have done to talk him out of hurting me. Or, at the very least, what I could have done to shake myself loose from the effects of whatever drug he must have slipped me.

Maybe it was some new version of the date-rape drug that could be passed along by body fluids. That would explain why he focused on my mouth so much—he wanted to make sure I got the whole dose. Yeah, that must have been it.

Right. Even I didn't believe that.

I knew better than to blame myself for any part of what had happened. I was well aware how damaging it was to blame the victim for her own victimization. But I couldn't sort out the avalanche of emotions.

I
should
have been able to do something. What was all my training for if I couldn't handle one mentally ill maniac?

But damn it to hell! I couldn't move my arms and legs! What the fuck kind of weirdness was that? Were all vampire wannabes closet hypnotists? Had he pressed a nerve in my spine to cause paralysis?

How dare those assholes waltz in here and make me feel unsafe in my own office? Unsafe in my own life?

I'd never thought of myself as someone who'd ever need to be rescued. I didn't like the feeling.

Devereux gently turned my head and inspected the bite on my neck.

Something about what he found made him frown. “You have lost some blood. You will probably feel dizzy for a while. May I?”

He moved in closer for what I thought was a better view, and I felt his tongue brushing against the bleeding holes in my neck. Outraged, I pulled away and yelled, “What the hell are you doing?” I immediately felt woozy from the sudden movement, but I'd be damned if anybody else was going to snack on me tonight.

“I have stopped the bleeding. One true thing about the vampire legends is that we have a substance in our saliva that helps wounds heal faster. And, of course, blood is a wonderful delicacy, and I would never pass up the opportunity to partake. It is my nature.”

Something about the words “it is my nature” roused me from my stupor. Suddenly it all came back to me. I was in my office, and Devereux was one of the lost souls pretending to be vampires. And I'd been attacked by a lunatic.

“I am not pretending to be anything,” he said. “I apologize for invading your mind, but we do not have the luxury of time. Bryce is indeed a lunatic, and you need to fortify yourself with facts. Facts are important to you, are they not?”

I struggled up from the couch, my face hot with anger, and was just about to vent some of it on Devereux when he stood and picked me up in his arms, all in one invisible movement.

Now, I'm not a small person. In my two-inch heels I could easily reach five feet ten, and no one had ever complained about how I filled out my swimsuit. But for the second time in one night I'd been scooped up like a sack of potatoes and made to feel like a helpless infant. I couldn't even remember the last time anyone had the nerve to touch me without my permission, but that seemed to be the name of the game with these people.