Secret Worlds (49 page)

“Such as?” he asked.

“You said humans once killed some of your kind. That some who died truly were elementals.”

Charles nodded.

“This is going to sound crazy”—I stole a glance at him—“but an ancestor of mine was killed during the Salem witch trials. Her court document was in my attic, but there’s no mention of her in any public records. Could she have been an elemental? Like, say, a spirit elemental?”

“Oh.” He sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Wow.” Another moment passed. “Well, she might have been a human who got dragged into things.”

“Or not,” I said.

“There were spirit elementals,” Charles replied. “Witches. But they were an extremely small population.”

“Witches?”

“Humans chosen by the Universe, imbued with unique powers that would have been too risky to give an immortal. They died with their human bodies. Their existence was short-lived. I don’t know anything more than that.”

“You’re a huge help.”

“If you’d let me finish…. I was going to say Adrian might know more. I’ll call him tonight and arrange something.”

Feeling a little more secure, I allowed myself the indulgence of asking him more about the Cruor lifestyle. It hadn’t mattered before, but if it was part of who Charles was, I would need to understand everything.

He explained how their blood cravings worked—how he didn’t struggle with them as much as a pure Cruor. He told me how most didn’t live as well as they could afford out of fear they might draw attention to themselves. Those who integrated with society lived their lives through forged documents and false family trees; they kept their money spread throughout different banks and in Swiss accounts.

As for the Strigoi, their animal forms also put them at more risk, such as if they crossed the path of a hunter. A human would have no way of knowing they were more than an animal. The idea of it made me happier I didn’t eat meat.

I asked Charles what happened if Strigoi
were
killed in their animal form, and he said…nothing. They just stayed in animal form; it was the Universe’s way of protecting their secrets.

“Don’t you worry about hurting your own kind during a hunt?” I asked.

Charles shook his head. “We know who we are. We would never accidentally confuse another Strigoi for a real animal. Their scent, their eyes…even the way it
feels
to be around them…it’s too unique to mistake for anything else.”

So this was ‘life’ as an immortal? Suddenly my own troubles didn’t seem so bad.

***

WHEN I ARRIVED BACK AT CHARLES’ PLACE, I flopped down on my guest bed with my Book of Shadows to make some additions and updates.

Charles had confessed that pure Strigoi don’t really need blood to survive; he only needed it because he was part Cruor, something he’d hidden from me as an attempt to protect me from the dangers of his world. Knowledge of their world was a gray area. Knowledge of a living dual-breed was a death-sentence.

I crossed out the Strigoi’s need for blood from my Book of Shadows’ entry, then added the rest of what I’d learned.

I made new entries for the Ankou, Chibold, Witches, and dual-breeds as well.

Mentally exhausted, I closed my Book of Shadows and tucked it away in my dresser drawer. Though my sleep was fitful, it came easily.

In my dreams, I saw Elizabeth again. She was standing in front of the gallows, inches away from me. She stared into my eyes, slowly lifted the Samhain ritual apple to her lips, and bit into its red flesh.

Inside, the fruit had rotted.

THE NEXT MORNING, I sat at the kitchen table and gave Lauren a call. She picked up after the first ring, her voice easily filled with ten times more energy than I could ever muster.

“Amazing night last night,” she said. “We need to go there again next year!”

Too bad the ‘there’ she was thinking of didn’t exist—not in the way she remembered. “It was okay, I guess. I’m just calling to check on you.”

“It was
okay
? Just
okay
? That was the best haunted house
ever
. Do you remember the address?”

“Drats, I don’t,” I lied. “Can’t even remember the street name.”

She sighed heavily, and my heart sank. To her, this was reality. Charles’ friend, Adonis, had made sure of that. Though the Cruor’s practice of stealing memories unnerved me, what bothered me most was their ability to place thoughts into someone’s head and create memories of things that had never happened. And now I enabled their lies.

When I didn’t say more, Lauren continued. “I just thought…well, that guy who walked us back to the car. Does Charles know him?”

“I don’t think so,” I lied.

“Too bad. I wouldn’t mind
him
taking me out to dinner sometime.”

That’s what you think
. “If I see him around, I’ll be sure to tell him. So, really, you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Nothing. Look, I gotta go. Work. Catch you later?”

“You bet,” she said.

I should’ve been relieved she didn’t remember anything, but I was too busy stressing over lying to my best friend.

***

ALL THROUGH WORK, I couldn’t stop thinking about Charles. What was life like for him? He harbored secrets for fear of judgment, something that should have brought us closer together but instead placed a whole world between us. He trusted me with the knowledge of his dual nature, while I would never be able to tell him of the whispering voices that occupied my mind.

I simply
could not
risk him responding the way Ivory had.

When my shift ended, I found him outside, sitting on the hood of my Jeep. He wore an olive-green, button-down shirt left open to a white tee. No jacket, of course. Charles never wore a jacket. Not even in sub-degree weather.

My heart sped, but I managed to keep my voice smooth. “I thought we were meeting later?”

He grinned, hopping down. “I wanted to see you in that sexy work uniform.”

I pushed his shoulder in playful response, but he didn’t budge. He chuckled, then eyed my Jeep and tapped a knuckle against the metal body. “Still driving this thing?”

“Spit it out. You think women shouldn’t drive or something?”

He laughed. “Not at all. Though you realize your car isn’t at all gas efficient, don’t you? And the emissions—”

“I’m not getting rid of my Jeep, okay?”

“Would it be so terrible to trade it in for something a little more…eco-friendly? Some of us plan on being around for a while.”

“Fantastic reminder. Thanks. In case you haven’t noticed, your Prius doesn’t handle the snow very well. That wouldn’t happen to be the reason you left it home today, would it?”

“I like walking,” he said, an easy smile playing at his lips.

“I’ll remind you of that after our next snowstorm, when you’re asking for a ride to buy groceries.”

He stepped closer and swept a strand of hair away from my face. There was that heat again—a chemistry that spun between us and made me feel like a fly stuck in a web. A chemistry I needed to ignore.

“I have to go.” I opened the door to get in my car, but then turned around, shaking my head. “I can’t believe you came here just to give me a hard time about my Jeep.”

His jaw clenched, and his fists balled at his sides. “I didn’t.”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow. “Then why?”

He closed the distance between us and placed his hands on my waist, stopping me from climbing in. Despite the early November chill, my skin suddenly warmed. His gaze dropped to my lips before he leaned in gently to close his mouth over my own.

I parted my lips to welcome the kiss, and he pressed closer, his tongue exploring my mouth, the kiss singing through my veins as I tried to deny the pulsing knot forming in my stomach. The kiss ended too soon.

“I really should get going. I still have to pick up groceries,” I whispered, though my reasons for wanting to leave had changed completely. And it wasn’t like I could get away from him. I was heading back to the house—his house. Hopefully the drive would cool me down.

“Let me give you a hand.” He stepped between my legs, grabbed me by my hips, and lifted me into my seat. His arm was wrapped around the small of my back and his hips pressed against the inside of my thighs, his heat playing against my own.

Moments like these made me want to give in to my physical desires, even if I wasn’t ready to turn over my heart.

Charles turned my palm up and kissed the inside of my wrist, and my skin tingled beneath his warm, velvety lips. Then he pulled away, the tips of his fangs dipping past his upper lip. I wondered how he’d hid them before—apparently Cruor’s fangs often descended when they engaged in
any
carnal activity, though I’d never seen Charles this interested until recently. His fangs weren’t so scary, though, not with the knowledge they belonged to a man who would cause me no harm.

“See you tonight,” he said, taking another step back. He was scowling now, or maybe that was the only way for him to hide his fangs.

I cleared my throat. “Mmhmm. See you.”

I settled into my seat and closed the door. After I started the engine, I glanced back up, but he was already gone.

***

WHEN I ARRIVED ‘home’, the sky was drained and pale and the air easy to breathe and smelled like fresh snow. The front door swung open before I knocked, and Charles ushered me inside. Of course with his super speed, he’d managed to return home faster than I could drive there.

“Were you waiting by the door?” I teased as he helped me shrug off my coat.

“I heard you pull up.” He hung my coat on a peg of the hall coat rack. “Adrian will be here soon. Should I put on some tea?”

“That’d be great.”

He motioned toward a black leather sofa, complete with red silk pillows. It wasn’t the sofa I’d seen there this morning. “Please, sit down.”

“Ummm…what happened to the sofa?”

Charles laughed. “The other one was only temporary. I finally got around to ordering something new.”

Once I seated myself, he headed for the kitchen. A young woman outside caught my attention. She was standing across the street in her nightdress, her hair dark and her gaze empty, her bare feet reddened by the snow blanketing the pavement. Her thin lips hinted at a frown, and she stared straight at me, unmoving.

My heart rate picked up, and I craned my head toward the kitchen. Charles was pouring the tea.

I looked out the window again, and I shivered. She stood in the middle of the road now, her gaze still cutting toward me as though she’d not moved at all. When I’d first looked, she’d been across the street, on the sidewalk. I was
sure
of it.

Moments later, Charles returned from the kitchen and pressed a steaming cup of tea into my hands.

“What is it?” he asked, following my gaze out the window to where the young woman still stood. She turned woodenly and walked away. “We could sit on the porch, if you prefer.”

Couldn’t he see her? I should have been freaked out that I was either seeing ghosts or hallucinating, but in the scheme of the last few months, the turn of events seemed almost mundane somehow. Or perhaps my numb-reaction-to-horrible-events gene was in overdrive.

I opened my mouth to say something but decided I’d better figure a few things out first. Last thing I needed was another repeat of the whole Ivory situation. She was
still
barely talking to me, and it wasn’t for my lack of trying. If that was the general reaction to people ‘hearing things’, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the reaction to people ‘seeing things’.

I forced a smile at Charles. “The living room is fine.”

The teacup warmed my fingers as I sipped. “Honey?”

“Yes, Dear?”

“You’ve put honey in the tea, I mean.” I smiled, shaking my head. “Tell me you’ve been waiting all day to use that line.”

He grinned, flopping on the couch beside me, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

The streetlights outside flickered on, reflecting off the icicles hanging from the storm gutters on the houses across the way. The street was empty, and I sighed my relief, snuggling closer to Charles and relaxing against his warm body.

Mentally I struggled to block any emotions trying to surface. Sure, last night changed things between us. I knew we were ‘together’ now, in our own way, but I would age, and he would stay the same. We had no future, not unless he rid himself of his Cruor side so that we could age together. I wasn’t ready to make a commitment under these circumstances.

His breath was hot against my neck, and a fluttering repeated in my stomach. He touched his lips to the hollow beneath my ear, then he buried his head against my shoulder.

“I want to be with you. To not resist the urges you create,” he murmured against my neck, “but more than anything, I am compelled to protect you. Compelled beyond reason, perhaps, but I know I must. What happened earlier today, outside the diner…”