William (20 page)

And then, with sudden clarity, I remembered
that strange moment in the coffee shop when I’d stared into Theo’s
eyes and felt, for one brief moment, that we were the closest of
friends, and that our interests were completely aligned. And I
recalled how in that instant he’d been so startled he had averted
his eyes in an uncharacteristically awkward fashion. Deciding, I
realized now, not to repeat the mistake that had cost him his
dearest friend.

“No,” I said decisively, and shook my head.
“Merrick, I’m sure he’s never done it. You may think me foolish,
but I’m sure of it. He never used those charms on me. Be gone with
that fear.”

Merrick searched my eyes, and if he was
puzzled by the source of my certainty, it didn’t seem to stop him
from taking heart in it. “Very well,” he said at last. “I imagine
you’d know. It’s not the most difficult thing to sense, in
retrospect. Good, William. I’m much relieved.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway,” I
murmured, glad to feel the tension leaving his shoulders at last.
“I was taken with you from the beginning." I paused. "As you may
recall."

Merrick's lips quirked slightly, amusement
warming his ever solemn eyes. "How could I forget?" His hands
spread over my shoulder blades. "I was afraid you'd try to flee in
the night, you looked so stricken by your own reaction."

I laughed in chagrin, letting my forehead
touch his as I slipped my fingers into his hair again. "I was
afraid you'd send me back," I countered, "if you took me for a
diver."

A crease appeared between his brows, and he
shook his head.

"How was I to know?"

"Indeed." He brushed a lock of hair behind my
ear and added in a teasing tone, "Though you do realize, now, how I
endeavored to make my tolerance plain?"

"It's clearer looking back," I admitted with
a smile, remembering all his gestures, the gentle touch of his hand
on my back, his intimate whispers, his closeness in the darkness of
the bedroom, and the night when I'd first seen his face. He had
pulled me close against him, then, and I, ever devoted to the art
of stupidity, had convinced myself he'd only done it to scold me.
As if that made a lick of sense! I laughed sheepishly, shaking my
head. "I didn't know," I said. "I didn't know it could be so
simple."

"I understand."

"Surely it wasn't always simple for you. God,
back then!"

"No," he said softly, trailing his hand up
and down my lower spine. "But the desire is no more common now than
it has ever been. Men have always loved other men, and women other
women, and there have even been those who are neither men nor
women, who love with more complexity than the law allows."
Merrick's eyes were distant and thoughtful, and he reached up to
stroke my cheek. "But in private, things can be simple; at least,
for a little while."

"That's true," I whispered, still studying
him as he spoke. I would never tire of the look of him, his firm,
smooth skin and his beautifully balanced features, his patient
eyes.

"Though I dare confess," Merrick said, and
his eyes cleared as he raised an eyebrow slightly, "I never counted
on your attraction to an old man in a hooded robe. That did throw
me."

I burst out laughing. "You? Imagine how I
felt!" Shaking my head with a helpless shrug, I said, "I doubt I
can ever explain it. Somehow, I just...knew you were in there."

Merrick smiled and pressed his lips softly to
mine, and I kissed him with all the warmth and wonder in my heart,
kissed him until it went to my head.

"It is quite simple," I said somewhat
breathlessly, moving my knee between his legs as I unfastened my
waistcoat. My lips curved into a smile as I moved to kiss him
again. "The best things in life often are, or so they say." I cast
the garment aside and turned my attention to his, spreading the
light wool vest open so that I could pull his shirt free of his
trousers. His ridged abdomen was curled slightly as he sat, and
each time he leaned forward or back I felt the muscles pull taut
beneath my palm. I dragged the linen up higher as I kissed my way
down his throat, until I could press my cheek to his chest. I
stayed there a moment, closing my eyes and savoring his solid
strength, the beat of his heart.

"You spoil me," Merrick spoke quietly,
kneading my shoulders as I pressed my open mouth to his firm skin,
making my way downward, and he leaned back to let me work at the
buttons of his trousers. "Are you content with all this,
William?"

I looked up from the fascinatingly neat
indentation of his navel and lost track of his words for a moment.
My left hand was still playing at his chest, holding his white
shirt to his collarbone. The candle light cast a delicious glow
across the elegant strength of his body, shimmering on his soft
lips, still wet from my kiss. The shadows brought his masculine
jawline into sharp relief, and his eyes glowed with that deep amber
warmth. My gaze wandered down to where I had begun to open the fall
of his trousers, exposing the flat plane of muscle between his
carved hips, before I remembered the question. "Yes," I said
slowly. "I am more than content with this, Merrick." I gathered
that had not been the spirit of the question, but his breath of
laughter told me he didn't mind.

Indeed, I was content, kneeling between his
open knees, lavishing his body with the most intimate affections I
could offer. He was a sporting fellow, I thought, to trust me in
such a position, for I had carelessly nipped his lips and his
earlobes with my newly sharp teeth more times than I could count.
But I tasted him with excruciating care, determined not to
mishandle the slow ascent of his pleasure. At times like this I
could fathom no greater delight than to feel Merrick's body come
under the spell of my hands and lips; it was my greatest desire to
dismantle his senses as he so regularly did mine, to watch him come
undone with passion. There on my knees, out of reach of his
devilish hands, I could really put my mind to it. My reward was the
quickening of his breath, the groans that rolled like quiet thunder
from his chest, and the tightening of his hips and thighs beneath
my hands as I gently devoured his sex. His hands moved feverishly
through my hair, along my throat and my hollowed cheeks, and he
breathed my name like a conjuring as I coaxed his tension toward
the breaking point.

"William." Merrick's fingers closed in my
hair, pulling pleasantly at my scalp, and I groaned as I doubled my
efforts. "Will..."

He fell to his release with a rough cry, and
I moaned again at the surge of his pleasure, the uncontrolled
quaking of his body beneath my hands. His soft groans were like
velvet in my ears as I stroked him through the last traces of his
convulsions, and when at last I lifted my head, I felt as dazed as
if I'd been in his place.

Merrick bent down at once to claim my lips in
a fiery kiss, and I found myself borne down to the floor, stretched
out beneath him as he made short work of my clothing—at least what
mattered.

"Bite me," I gasped against his mouth, raking
my hands down his back.

Merrick grasped my hair and pulled my head
back. "Wanton thing," he groaned against my throat, and gave it a
hearty nip that reverberated through my neck. "Is that what you
want?"

"Yes!" I tangled my legs with his and shoved
my hands beneath his loose waistband, digging my fingers into his
muscular buttocks. Merrick dragged his tongue over the cuts his
teeth had made before nipping me again, higher on my neck.

"Your blood," he whispered, "is magnificent."
And then, just when I thought he meant to hold me down and torment
me all night, he worked his lips below the edge of my jaw and sank
his teeth deep into my skin.

There was no way to speak when he drank. His
bite propelled me beyond the realm of words and thoughts, flooding
my soul with dark and luscious glory. I went languid beneath him,
my fingers tracing small, drunken circles over silken skin. When he
finished and held me tenderly against his body, murmuring sweetness
into my ear, I could summon no better response than a dazed and
peaceful smile.

At the end of July, summer was stifling. Away
from the waterfront, cut off from the sea breeze, the night air was
like a wool blanket. I was standing at the corner of the balcony,
an arm on the bannister and a glass of wine in my hand, looking
down on the street below as I waited for Merrick to return from the
post office. Bostonians of all stripes were out in droves, avoiding
the suffocating heat of their houses. Ladies and gentlemen draped
themselves on their balconies and porticos, fanning themselves with
sluggish languor. On the sidewalks and around the porticos, working
people and servants of all colors laughed and loitered, bottles
moving from hand to hand. As for me, I was unbothered by the heat,
relaxed as a tiger reclined in the shadows, watching the watering
hole from the fringes of the jungle green.

Our coach was ready, and our things were
packed. In a matter of hours we would depart for Providence. All
that was left was to retrieve our suits from Mr. Beekman, an affair
I was determined to see through with poise, despite Merrick's
warnings that my thirst for the gentleman would make that rather
challenging. He had delicately offered to fetch the suits himself,
but I waved off the suggestion. After all, the talented young
tailor would surely offer some ingenious nips and tucks in mind
once we'd tried on his designs. Two fittings alone was cutting it
close already!

Of course, that was hardly the main reason.
Ever since Merrick had described the mysterious nuances of thirst,
proposing that it was bound to one's character and perceptions, I
was keen to feel out the boundaries of my own. It was all too clear
that Merrick had thus far sheltered me from the full range of
vampire experiences, keeping me close, choosing and descending upon
our prey with swift efficiency. They had all been sailors,
travelers, thieves, ruffians, and other solitary creatures of the
night; in short, all easy pickings, all men who would not be
missed. But though they satisfied my thirst, my eyes wandered more
intently with each passing night, and I had come to realize that
I'd soon outgrow the routine into which I'd been initiated.

Now, alone on the balcony with the full range
of prospects below me, I felt that truth more keenly than ever.
Though it was early in the evening—I did not feel the demands of
thirst until the later hours of the night had settled in—my eyes
lingered on those creatures I found particularly alluring. Dandies,
students, low-born women with mischievous eyes. I knew that I would
think of them, later, that their images would reappear in my mind's
eye with the first twinge of thirst, and my teeth would ring for
them until I bit the throat of whichever poor creature Merrick led
me to.

For the time being, that was all right. I had
not yet lived a month as a vampire; my thirst was young and
restless, but easily sated. I had a premonition, however, that
sooner or later these budding desires would be fully grown, and I
might not be so easily placated by Merrick's selections, by these
shabby strangers with calloused palms.

Ah, well. I sighed lightly, propping my chin
on my hand. At least I was no longer so afraid of Merrick's
expectations. Learning about his life had done me a world of good,
deepening my confidence in our friendship and assuring me that he
would not be easily disappointed in me, so long as I endeavored to
maintain what good habits I’d cultivated so far.

The ivory moon was above the rooftops
already, full and glowing, and my gaze settled upon it fondly.
Lovely world! I'd never realized the full scope of nature's beauty
before I became a vampire. Now I was in constant awe of its
wonders, marveling at the basic elements of life, the grandeur of
the Earth and the unknown scale of its history. In fact these
natural glories struck me so profoundly at times that I was
dumbfounded by the lowliness of the animal races—vampires, too—in
comparison with the ancient mysteries of stones and stars. But this
was not a sad thought, not in the least. In fact, the idea of my
own life as a minute speck amid a universe of such infinite beauty
and power was so delightful as to send my mind into paroxysms of
joy, to the extent that my heart began to race, and I had to shake
my head and think of something else before I lost my mind.

But how marvelous, how marvelous to know that
the ivory moon would hang in the night long after I'd turned to
dust, ineffable, out of reach. How marvelous that I could not drink
it!

I closed my eyes with a smile and drained the
last of my wine. Just as I was about to go inside for more, I
spotted Merrick walking up the road. Pleased with the view, I
crossed my arms over the railing again and followed his approach.
And I wasn't the only one. Not a few heads turned to watch this
tall, dark-haired gentleman make his way through the drowsy teem of
the sidewalks, moving with the steady glide of one who knew his way
about the world better than most others ever would. Christ, that
face. I smirked as a cluster of working girls were drawn out of the
porch where they'd been gathered, their eyes fixed upon him in
dreamy wonder. When I looked back at him, his warm eyes were upon
me, and I slowly grinned. Damn, but I'd done well for myself this
year.

When Merrick stepped into the house, I was
descending the stairs with another glass of wine for him. He took
it with a look of amused surprise, but leaned in and kissed my lips
before he raised his glass and took a drink, his amber eyes
regarding me over the edge of the glass. "Has something happened?
You're practically glowing."

I shrugged, grinning. "Just enjoying the
evening."

Merrick returned my smile, his eyes crinkling
slightly in the way that always made my knees weak. "I'm glad to
hear it." But then he looked down and sobered slightly. "I have
news to share before we visit the tailor."