Crimson Psyche (8 page)

“Yes,” he said eagerly, “you understand! That is the only way for you to remain safe. Your office is only an elevator ride away, so there is no real reason for you to go anywhere else. I do not wish to curtail your freedom, but you see that it is necessary, and I must insist that you follow my guidance.”

“Oh, my,” the strange intruding voice said in my head. “The lad has really stepped in it now. I’d be angry if I were you.”

Damn right!

“You must
insist
?” I clenched my hands in my lap and scowled. “So, you’re only willing to restrain your chest-beating instincts when it suits you? You really don’t see me as an individual at all, do you? Someone with her own goals and needs and desires? No. You see me only as some fated extension of yourself. What about all the other times you forced me to rearrange my life and my work because you thought I was in danger? Nothing bad ever happened, did it? So why should I listen now? How do I know this isn’t just another excuse for you to stroke your ego? Do you know for a
fact
that he’s interested in me? Nope, sorry. You’re just crying wolf —
again
. I won’t allow anyone to make my decisions for me.”

I leapt up from the couch and stomped around the room. Devereux followed, then stepped in front of me. He grabbed my upper arms and tried to give me a shot of vampire voodoo with his eyes.

“It is distressing that you cannot see how unlike yourself you are right now. But I am willing for you to be angry with me if it means you will remain unharmed,” he said, sounding calm and rational. “And even if I were ‘crying wolf,’ which I am not, I could live with that. We can return for your things later. I am taking you to safety now.”

His gaze no longer produced the usual hazy, entranced feeling it used to. Instead, it sharpened my awareness of my anger, which felt pretty good.

He slid his arm around my waist and I twisted away, pulling him off-balance. The shock on his face was almost comical and I laughed out loud. The Master wasn’t used to disobedience!

Stress is an amazing thing: all that adrenaline pumping and cortisol surging.

He reached for me again and I pivoted, shoving him with my hip. He growled and lunged and we performed a sweaty little grapple for a frantic few seconds. He tried to hold onto me without hurting me while I struggled to get away. I don’t know how we remained on our feet. At one point we each had handfuls of the other’s hair, and lots of snorting and grunting ensued.

“Ahem.” Luna, Devereux’s hostile femme fatale assistant stood a couple of feet away, sneering. She had a habit of showing up unannounced and uninvited.

“Forgive me for interrupting your disgusting little mating ritual, but the Master is needed. The truce between the covens has been breached and they’re at each other’s throats again. If you don’t mind, I’ll just go and stake myself now, which is the only way I’ll be able to rid myself of the grotesque scene I just witnessed, since it’s burned into my brain.” She vanished.

Devereux disentangled himself from me, straightened his clothing and patted down his hair. I leaned forward, braced my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath.

Wow — my visits to the gym have really paid off. I’ve got
muscles
!

“We will follow Luna,” Devereux proclaimed, and he slid his arm around my waist again, preparing to transport us to his penthouse.

“No!” I wanted to stay put and appreciate my new strength.

Of course, he paid no attention. Then something strange happened. There was the usual hair-raising sensation always present when we blink from one place to another, but instead of landing in Devereux’s elegant living quarters, there was an itchy, tingling,
pulling
along my back, and then we were standing in my living room again.

Whoa
. I wasn’t an expert at undead transportation, but I didn’t think Devereux had planned that.

“How did you do that?” he demanded, turning to glare at me.

I’m sure I looked as confused as I felt. “Do what? I didn’t do anything.” Unless thinking I didn’t want to go and screaming
No!
counted — but why would it, since it never had before?

He took a step back, his eyes distant and cold. “You forced us to return. How could you possibly know how to do that?” He growled low in his throat. “It was
him.
The situation is even worse than I feared. He has lent you his power, strengthened your mental and physical capacities, which were already amplified by the elders’ blood. He is not merely influencing you. He is
controlling
you.” He made an obvious effort to calm himself and stroked his hand over my arm. “You can rest assured that I will not allow him to interfere in this way. He will not be allowed to change you. But while I consider the best course of action, I would like you to come with me of your own free will. I can probably still force you to accompany me, but it would be highly unpleasant for both of us. Will you come?”

I reached up and took his face in my hands, staring into his eyes. “Devereux, nobody is controlling me. You’re such a worrier. I know you want to protect me, and your actions are well-meaning. You don’t think I can take care of myself, and you’re probably right that I have a lot to learn about your world. But how will I ever learn about this twisted reality if you don’t let me make my own mistakes and explore my abilities in my own way? If you try to hold me captive, even kindly, I’ll come to resent you, and neither of us wants that. I need to stay here, in my own home, and make my own decisions, even if I screw up.”

He wrapped his fingers around my wrists, brought my hands to his mouth and kissed one palm then the other.

“For an intelligent woman, you are being incredibly obtuse.”

My mouth opened and closed in indignation. In the middle of my inadvertent fish imitation, I tried to form a coherent sentence and failed. I pulled my hands away.

Devereux stared down at me and I felt like a schoolgirl being reprimanded by the principal. “You have no idea what that lunatic can do, and instead of listening to me — someone who actually does know what the beast is capable of — you dig in your heels and resist. Your careless actions could cause both of us pain — or worse. Now,
please
, be the sensible woman I know you are and come with me.”

“Being sensible is highly overrated.”

Where did that come from? I didn’t mean to say that.

I backed away and slammed into a strange vampire who’d just materialized behind me. The visitor didn’t even react to my stomping on his feet.

Let’s see how many more vampires we can cram into this room.

“Master, you are desperately needed. Things have taken a turn for the worse. They are calling for you.”

Devereux snarled at the newcomer, “Yes, yes. Tell them I am on my way.”

The messenger departed and I crossed my arms over my chest. My body language was clear: as far as I was concerned, the topic was closed. I needed a break.

“This discussion is not over — far from it — but I must go. The conflict between the covens is fueled by those wishing to restore vampires to the top of the food chain again, who support Dracul’s campaign. No doubt you remember that issue was at the heart of the battle between us.”

“How could I forget when he almost sucked me dry?” I hugged myself to ward off the sudden chill. “I thought the problem had ended with Dracul’s death.”

“No. He created a growing cancer, so to speak, and as the leader of the opposition, I must intervene in person.”

“Should I be surprised that you never mentioned a word to me about this continuing threat to mortals? What about your promise to tell me more about the preternatural world, to keep me in the loop?”

“I tell you what you need to know.”

“He doesn’t treat you like an equal at all, does he?” the now-familiar voice whispered in my head.

No, he doesn’t.

“I see. So
you
determine what I need to know.”

“Let us not speak of this now. I must subdue the troublemakers. At least promise me that you will remain indoors tonight.”

I smiled, promising nothing, and he grumbled something harsh-sounding in the strange language — Druidic? — he sometimes used. “The Slayer has made you incapable of rational thought, so I will take matters into my own hands. Like it or not, you will be protected.”

He disappeared.

Devereux’s suffocating behavior had gotten to the point that I had to take a stand, even if it seemed self-destructive, stubborn and stupid. I couldn’t continue to hide behind him. It had been my decision to involve myself in the vampire and vampire wannabe worlds, so there was no point in cowering and playing the Damsel in Distress. I had to learn to take care of myself or I’d spend the rest of my life being a victim.

Thinking about cowering made me remember my unnatural altercation with Devereux. Something was definitely different. I remembered eagerly holding up my end of the tussle, even taking a sadistic pleasure in grabbing handfuls of that platinum hair. My temper had slipped its leash and run amok, and that was new for me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I couldn’t deny I’d enjoyed the exhilaration.

“Hell, yes! Kismet Knight, Ass Kicker!”

After the flurry of chaos, being alone in my townhouse was odd. The silence pressed against my ears, and the lack of drama felt empty rather than peaceful. Had I become addicted to the soap operas of the bloodsucking world? Was I hooked on the neuro-chemical rollercoaster?

With those disturbing thoughts in my mind, I wandered over to my desk and sat. Extensive paperwork was a staple of my chosen career. As I started to rummage through the insurance forms and consultation requests on my desk, I suddenly remembered I’d left my briefcase, containing my current client files, at my office.

Did I want to drive back over there, or—

Damn! My driver’s license was in my purse, which was also still at my office. Then another revelation rolled over me: driver’s license, hell! — my
car
was still there! I pounded my fist on the desktop and belted out a primal scream. Good thing my neighbors were in Mexico. I should’ve stopped thinking about Devereux’s hormone-kindling face and body long enough to gather up my personal belongings. “Crap!” I slapped the desk again. “I wish I could just think myself there. A few minutes ago it was Vampire Central Station. Where’s a vampire when you need one?”

I could even envision exactly where I’d left my possessions.

As soon as I pictured them in my mind, there was that familiar swoosh, and I found myself in my office. Or I should say, sprawled on the floor of my office. It was like somebody had opened a cosmic door, positioned a foot on my ass and pushed me inside.

Stunned, I sat up and gazed around. I’d landed next to the desk where I’d left my purse and briefcase. Apparently, just imagining the place I wanted to be was all it took to get me there now. I patted myself down, making sure all of me had arrived and reassembled in the correct order.

After I mentally scratched my head for a few seconds, I burst out laughing. Devereux was going to have a stroke when he found out. Well, maybe not a stroke, because one had to be alive for that, but he’d surely suffer some kind of undead affliction. The idea that his destined beloved had developed her own superpower and might be able to survive day-to-day without his constant intervention would be as welcome to him as a broken fang.

When my laughter died down, I sobered. I’d just done something impossible, and the cautious part of me pursed her lips and shook a finger in my direction. She didn’t think this situation was funny at all, and she was very concerned about the source of these new skills. She thought I ought to contact Devereux immediately and tell him about this surprising development. She was worried.

Whoa. This is getting crazy. She? Isn’t she me? I should
definitely
call Devereux.

But apparently not all of me agreed. In the midst of the anxiety, another opinion forced its way into the discussion and I felt myself smile, almost as if my facial muscles had a mind of their own. Why tell Devereux anything? Yes, the pleasure of watching the shocked realization blossom across his face would be entertaining, and there was no mistaking how exciting his temper tantrums could be, but why tip my hand? Why share this radically unexpected turn of events? An unfamiliar confidence filled me.

Okay. The fact that my new skill allegedly came from Hal— from the ancient vampire Devereux had mentioned — was unsettling news. That would be the part my blond Adonis would hate the most. Who knew how long my ticket for Air Vampire would last? Shouldn’t I keep this little bit of freedom to myself? I wasn’t thrilled about how I got this ability, but as long as I had it, shouldn’t I use it? Besides, there was a more immediate issue to deal with: I had to find out if traveling via thought was a one-shot deal, or if it had a longer shelf life. Could I get myself home the same way I came, and would I be able to take my briefcase and purse with me? Burning questions. But if I popped home, my car would still be parked in the underground parking of the office building, so shouldn’t I simply take the easiest path and drive home, just be a normal human? Boring but practical.

That’s what I did.

On the ride home, I fantasized about thought travel. As outrageous as it sounded, it really wasn’t any more outlandish than most aspects of modern quantum physics. In fact, Einstein had speculated about the possibility of that very thing, so it really wasn’t surprising that vampires could manipulate energy. What
was
really odd was the fact that vampires existed, period. Devereux had promised to tell me the story of the original vampire, but so far he’d changed the subject whenever I’d raised it. Another mystery?

It also occurred to me that I’d forgotten to ask Devereux about the deaths Mr. Roth had mentioned. I made a mental note to find out what he knew.

When I arrived home, my townhouse was as quiet and bloodsucker-free as I’d left it. I strolled into the kitchen, rummaged through the refrigerator and grabbed the least rancid leftover container of Chinese food, found a lone fork in the sink and leaned against the wall to eat. I glanced down at my lovely black dress, now crumpled, and covered in lint and dust. I groaned. A greasy fat noodle dangling on the end of the fork made a run for it down the front of the soft fabric. Perfect.