Blood Ties (19 page)

“A glass of water would b
e good.”

He rushed off towards the kitchen
and banged around in the cupboards looking for a glass. The faucet turned on.

He called out, “Ice, should there be ice in the water?” I sniffled and swiped at my tears with the sleeve of my sweater. There probably wasn’t any ice in the house and if there
was, it would be unlikely he would be able to find it.

“No, that’s alright.”

He came back, handed it to me, and bent down to give me a gentle kiss. Then he stood, watching me as I drank. Again, he began to pace, muttering to himself, “Something to eat …” A huge smile transformed his face and he ran into the kitchen. He came back with a croissant, a peeled orange and banana on a plate, leftovers from breakfast and gave me another soft kiss. Then he awkwardly handed me a fork and a couple of napkins.

He sat down on
an ottoman, watching me cut up the banana with a fork. He stared at me as I chewed, slowly leaning in towards me. His eyes darkened and the air began to become heavy with his scent. I leaned back, my fork poised in the air in case the fangs came out. He froze. I spoke quietly. “Michael, please just relax … you did well.”

He blinked, and then pulled back, averting his eyes. “What should I do? Are you warm enough? Should I get you more water?”

“Michael, look at me.” He raised his eyes. They’d turned back to a warm brown. “Take a deep breath.” He inhaled, then let it out. “Now … relax. Everything’s fine. There’s nothing more I need.”

He nodded. He waited for me to finish, careful not to stare and come too close. I wasn’t hungry but ate half of what he
’d brought me. I was never one to waste food. Once done, he took it back into the kitchen. He returned and gathered me into his arms and sat down with me on the oversized leather chair.

I touched his tears and held the moisture up to the firelight. They were clear, not streaked with blood. I frowned. I watched way too much TV.

He kissed my finger that held his single tear, and then softly brushed his lips against mine. We gazed into each other’s eyes, gently touching each other’s faces, tracing features, reassuring ourselves again, that we were both real. He was like a living, breathing life-size Adonis doll. I took his hand and inspected it. It was beautiful. His fingers were long and graceful with perfectly formed nails that were just a little longer than one would typically see on a guy. I held my palm up against his and it dwarfed mine.

“I don’t remember you being so … big.”

He chuckled, his sweet breath wafting over my skin. “I haven’t changed in two hundred years, well except for the obvious. And you are the same as you were. Only your hair is shorter and perhaps you are a few inches taller.” He ran his fingers through my hair, watching the blonde strands glimmer in the firelight. He leaned closer, inhaled deeply and kissed me, his lips lingering on mine. His scent became heavy. He closed his eyes and pulled back from me, clearing his throat. “Liz,” he said, “It’s getting late.”

I stiffened in his arms and he opened his eyes.
They had darkened. “No, I don’t want to go … don’t make me go.”

“Liz …” Just then I heard a door close. Selene came in from the kitchen; practically skipping with a beatific smile. I tried to pull away from him, embarrassed, but he just
gathered me closer and began nibbling behind my ear.

She waved her hand casually. “Please, don’t mind me, continue as you were.” She plopped down on
another oversized chair with her feet up on an ottoman. She grinned watching us. “So, did you two have a nice day?”

I moved my eyes back to Michael’s face. We both looked at each other for a moment and then he leaned in and began lightly stroking my face with his fingertips. I looked at Selene. “Ummm … yes, it was a beautiful day. Michael took me down to the beach.” She raised an eyebrow, one side of her mouth raised in a smile. She watched us and then looked up at the ceiling.

“Well, I had an exhausting day, as if I could be exhausted.” She ran her hands through her long black hair. “Those lab assistants can be so dense.”

I looked at her in puzzlement.

Michael whispered, “Selene’s a researcher in one of the hospitals in Halifax. She’s a hematologist.”

“I study blood borne diseases, looking for cures, etc.” She waved her hand gracefully
for emphasis.

I was quiet for a moment, a myriad of thoug
hts playing “Pin the Tail on the Donkey”. “Isn’t that a little difficult, you know, being what you are?” I didn’t feel comfortable saying the word, “vampire”, even though I had one pulling on my earlobe with his teeth. I shivered and hoped he’d keep those horrific fangs of his, so close to my jugular, tucked away. I shivered and he slid his hand up my arm and stroked it gently.

She laughed charmingly. “After a hundred years or so, blood on a slide or
in a test tube loses its allure.” Michael let go of my earlobe and regarded his sister with an amused look.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked. “I haven’t had the chance to cook anything in this kitchen. It’s about time I broke it in.”

He snorted. “And when have you ever cooked?”

She sniffed. “So it’s been a while. It would be fun. I even purchased a recipe book just for Liz, and,” she added, “picked up a few more things when I was in town.” She gave me a happy grin.

“I have already prepared something for her,” he breathed, into my hair. He continued his kissing behind my ear. I shivered and tried to keep my breaths even.

She raised her eyebrows
in disbelief. I giggled at the look on her face.

He spoke, his words muffled
in my hair. “I need to get Liz back to campus before someone starts looking for her.”

She huffed. “Well, there goe
s my evening. You’re so not fun.”

He got
up and gently pulled me to my feet. “Michel, make sure you show her some of your paintings before you go.” She winked at me and snickered. “I heard he has already promised to do so.”

He
frowned at her then pulled me upstairs. He took a right at the top of the stairs then another right down a long hallway that mirrored the one on the other side of the house. He opened a door and turned on the lights. The wall that faced the ocean, like downstairs, was completely enclosed in glass. Several large skylights broke up the ceiling. Everywhere I looked, paintings of all sizes leaned up against walls. In the center of his studio was an easel with a canvas.

“What are you working on?” I asked.

“Selene is such a nag. She’s been after me for a hundred years to get me to do her portrait. She finally wore me down.”

I studied the thin brush strokes that outlined Selene’s form. “Really, just a hundred years?”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

I explored the room. He silently followed. “May I?” I asked as I motioned to a stack against the wall.

“Of course, feel free.”

They were absolutely breathtaking. Several were very old, some looked nineteenth century, and others were of a modern flair with bright overlaid colors.

“Michael, they’re beautiful.”

I continued to walk around the room, overwhelmed by the numbers of canvases it contained. In the corner, I noticed a framed painting put off to the side. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Liz …” I moved towards it.

I stood back in shock. It was a portrait of a woman leaning up against a tree, her long blond hair cascading down her shoulders.

It was me.

Michael bent down and caressed her painted cheek. “Alisé ... as you were. I didn’t want to frighten you so I removed it from downstairs.” He stood and let out a slow breath as he gazed down at the painting. “Come my love. I need to get you back.”

My mind in a daze,
it vaguely registered when we stopped by Selene’s bedroom to gather my things. Then he took me back downstairs and through the kitchen. He opened a door to steps that led into darkness. The lights suddenly flicked on and down we went. At the bottom of the garage was his Mercedes, a Hummer and several other cars. Tucked up against a wall were several motorcycles covered in tarp.

Next to Michael’s car was an antique English convertible roadster in a bright forest green, a Triumph Spitfire. I walked over and touched the hood. As a kid, I had seen one of these in a magazine hoping that when I’d made my millions I would have one of my own. I loved green. It is the perfect color.

“It’s Selene’s.”

I sighed,
“My dream car.”

He led me over to his, but instead of opening
the door for me, he turned me around to face him. He threaded his fingers into my hair to cup my face.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered.

I didn’t move. I felt uneasy, almost dizzy.

He moved
close and pressed his body against me. He paused, his lips almost touching me. Then slowly and tentatively, he settled against them. As I parted my lips, he cautiously dipped his cool tongue inside as if he were gauging how far he could go – or should go.

A thousand soft tendrils began to caress every inch of my body, his delicious scent coaxing me to yield. I relaxed and he delved deeper, exploring the depths of my mouth as he untangled one hand from my hair and slid it down to my waist to pull me even closer against his cold, muscular body.

I went limp in his arms. I gasped as sudden heat engulfed my body. He kissed down the line of my jaw to my throat. He moaned. Another wave of heat consumed me and I clutched at him in desperation and panted from the burning fire the coursed through my body. I pressed up hard against him and kissed him back, frantic, small noises slipping out of my throat. I pulled at his shirt, wanting my hands underneath it, wanting to touch his skin.

I fell back against the side of the car. He stood a few yards away, his back to me.

“Michael? What is it?” I asked, panting, gasping for air, not quite knowing what to make of my raging hormones.

“I’m fine, give me a minute
,” he said roughly. He lowered his head, breathing heavily, his hands clenched in tight fists.

Then, after a few moments,
he turned, his dark eyes filled with sadness.

Suddenly it was clear. It had been too much for him. I didn’t know if I should be terrified or just incredibly sad. I fought back
tears as he open my door. Using his hand for support, I bent down and slid in. He leaned over to buckle my seatbelt. I caught my breath, feeling my heart skip a beat. He quickly pulled back and closed the door.

He
got in and touched a button on the visor, opening the garage. The heavy metal door raised and we drove up the ramp to the outside. In an unbearable silence we drove back to St. Germaine. He stared at the road in front of him, his face unreadable.

My
building was quiet, the noise having settled down for the night. I played with my seatbelt, unsure of what was coming next.

“Liz, I will see you then, tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes, Michael I’m ...”

“No need.” He
got out and gracefully moved around the front to my door and opened it. I kept my eyes down as he held out his hand. I clasped it and he raised me to stand. He gave me my backpack, then when I didn’t take it, placed in on my shoulder. He sighed and gently urged me up the steps to the door. “Liz,” he whispered under his breath, “I will see you tomorrow.”

I turned towards him raising my face to his. His eyes were full of pain. He reached down to rearrange a tangled piece of my hair. “Liz?” he asked.

“Yes?”

His eyes looked deeply into mine. “Please stay out of the woods.”

“Deal,” I said.

He gave me a small smile then went back to his car. I watched him drive away, my arms around my chest, trying to hold back
my tears, confused and almost afraid of what he was thinking. When the lights of his car disappeared, I went inside. Jen and Parker were huddled up against her door, heads together, quietly talking. Jen saw me and bounced over with Parker following.

“Hey Liz, how was your weekend? Do anything outrageously exciting?”

I shrugged and avoided their gaze. “No, it was pretty uneventful, just spent the weekend studying.” I turned my key in the lock, hoping to not invite additional questions.

“How was your weekend in Halifax?” I asked as I opened my door.

“Fabulous, my uncle took me shopping. Come see what he bought me.”

I feigned a yawn. “I’d love to but I’ve hit the wall
. I really need to get some sleep. How about tomorrow?”

“Sure … no problem.” She looked at me curiously. She had guessed something was off. Parker flicked his eyes back and forth between us.

I went inside and turned around, my hand on the knob. I feigned another yawn. “I’m absolutely beat. I’ll see you guys.”

“O
kay, see you tomorrow.” They watched me close the door.

I fell into bed and stared at the ceiling, trying not to think too much about the last couple of days and my last few moments with Michael. I’d reached my limit. My mind was on overload. If I thought too much I’d most likely go into some post-traumatic craziness and experience something emotionally freakish, not to mention I’d be up all night and look like hell in the morning. I didn’t think I could deal with a Monday with an undead Michael on little to no sleep.