Fangs for the Memories (36 page)

Ah, what the heck, a sip wouldn’t kill her. Plenty of things looked gross and tasted great. Like steamed clams or creamed spinach.

She picked up the bag and popped the cap. She sniffed it, recalling that the scent had been rather unappealing. This time the smell didn’t seem quite as bad.

She went to the cupboard and took down another mug. She sloshed a little of the viscous liquid into the heavy white cup. Gingerly, she raised the mug to her lips and took a small sip.

Grimacing, she swished the drink around her tongue. Then her face relaxed, and she shrugged. Not bad, really. It actually tasted rather good.

Forgoing her tea, she filled the mug with more of the protein drink and then headed to the library. Maybe a little reading would relax her, and she’d be able to sleep.

She didn’t really feel in the mood to read, her mind still racing, but she grabbed a book off the shelf anyway and settled on the sofa.

She flipped open the cover, reading the title page.

“The Truth about Vampires and Werewolves.”

She closed the cover to look at the front. “
The Facts and the Fiction: A Study of the
Behaviors
of Preternatural Creatures
.”

Not exactly the type of reading she had in mind to calm her nerves. She started to place it on the table,
then
stopped. A word on the back cover just happened to catch her eye.

Mirrors.

Not a remarkable word.
But one that did give her pause.
She flipped the book open again, looking in the index.

Sure enough, there was a whole section on mirrors.

Turning to the selected pages, she scanned the paragraphs.

Historically, vampires have avoided mirrors, because they do not cast a reflection as humans do. Their reflections appear see-through, much like a ghost or spirit. This was once seen as an indication of the loss of their soul. However, current studies have revealed that the phenomenon is very likely the result of simple changes in the vampire’s ionic makeup.

Was that why Rhys didn’t have mirrors in his bathroom? He was afraid he was a vampire?

She laughed at herself. Not likely.

She turned back to the index.
Crosses.
Garlic.

She turned to the garlic section.

Garlic was once considered a potent deterrent against vampires, although now it is recognized that garlic in large quantities will deter just about any creature, preternatural or otherwise.

She shook her head, smiling. This was definitely an interesting book. And maybe garlic was just the thing to send Christian packing.

She scanned a few more pages.

Biting…

While a werewolf’s bite is both undesirable in that it is the primary way to spread lycanthropy, and it is also extremely painful, the vampire’s bite needs to neither spread vampirism nor be unpleasant. In fact, a vampire bite can be quite enjoyable, often leading to sexual gratification for both the partner and the vampire.

But conversely, a vampire can use its bite to cross a human over to vampirism, to injure the human or in some circumstances kill.

As Jane read, the small marks on her neck began to sting as if reacting to what she read. She went back to the index to look up hypochondria.

Nope, neither vampires nor werewolves seemed to suffer from that malady.

But her fingers did stray to the wound. She had to admit they did look like vampire bites.
At least the ones in the movies.

She returned to reading about bites, learning that vampire bites varied based on the alignment of the vampire’s teeth. And that braces can in fact help poorly aligned bites.

She laughed out loud and checked the author of the book.

Dr.
Kurtland
Fowler—not a very
vampiry
name.

Count Fowler. That just sounded silly.

But despite her doubts about the author, she continued to read, skipping around to topics that caught her interest.

But her amusement waned as she read one particular entry.
Avoidance of sunlight.

She, of course, knew from old vampire movies that they couldn’t go out in the sun, but something about Dr. Fowler’s comments struck her.

The avoidance of sunlight is only applicable to vampires. The original concept of why vampires could not go out into the sunlight was based around the idea that the sun symbolizes life. Because vampires do not adhere to the same rules of biology as humans, and are often mistaken for dead, the assumption was made that vampires are intolerant to sunlight because they are inherently evil. Thus they were forced to cling to shadows and the darkness of night.

When, in fact, the sun intolerance is far less dramatic. The aversion is a metabolic issue that does not allow the proper absorption of vitamin D. The reaction is violent and often deadly. As of yet, no treatment has been found.

Vampires are also extremely sensitive to gamma rays, which have a sedative effect on them, causing the vampire to sleep very deeply in daylight hours.

She stared at the words. This sounded like Rhys. A violent allergy to the sun, and she had never met a deeper sleeper.

She stared at the words a moment longer,
then
snapped the book shut. She tossed it in the chair next to the sofa, suddenly unsettled, both by the book and by the direction of her thoughts.

Rhys—a vampire.
That was just crazy.

Obviously, the return of
Rhys’s
memory, his confusing behavior toward her and the idea that Christian might want to hurt her were allowing her imagination to get away with her.

Still, a lot of the things she’d read did seem similar to things that had happened. Rhys mentioning he disliked mirrors. The strange marks she had noticed on her body.
And
Rhys’s
sun allergy.
Was
that too many parallels to be considered a coincidence?

She glanced back at the book where it
lay
, the corner barely visible over the arm of the chair.

She shifted against the cushions, pulling her legs up underneath her. She was being silly. Vampires—there was no such thing. She didn’t believe in supernatural stuff.

Or did she? She definitely believed there was something strange going on in the bedroom she’d been given. As much as she wanted to believe she’d imagined or dreamed the eerie chills that woke her, she couldn’t. An entity, or something, had been there.
A ghost.
A spirit.
She didn’t know what to call it. But she did believe it was real.

So if that could be real, why couldn’t a vampire?

She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this. But her gaze strayed back to the book as if it were calling her.

She settled back into the soft sofa, determined to push all these ridiculous thoughts from her mind.

She looked out the window. The sun was low over the city, the sky a deep pink streaked with wisps of pale purple clouds. She rested her head on the puffy cushions, admiring the beautiful colors of the sky, feeling tired but still unable to calm her mind.

She forced herself to close her eyes, but within seconds, they were open again, first looking back at the sunset, then returning to the book.

She sat up. She would scan the index one last time, and when she saw that there were no other entries that could apply to Rhys, she’d drop these crazy notions about vampires and ghosts. And there wouldn’t be any more connections.
Because she was being silly.

She leaned over and retrieved the book. Sitting cross-legged, she rested the book in her lap.

“Thanks, Dr. Fowler. Like I didn’t have enough on my mind,” she muttered to the cover. Then she, almost reluctantly, opened to the back.

Crosses
49-52, 112, 176-181

Curses 2-4, 280, 291

Nothing so far.
She flipped ahead.

Holy water 53

She turned several more pages.

Seeds 12, 45-46, 142, 167, 202, 310-313

Seeds?
She almost looked at that, just because she didn’t know seeds played such a big role in vampire or werewolf lore. But she didn’t. Seeds definitely didn’t apply to Rhys.

Then the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Shape shifting.

That topic alone didn’t cause her chill. It was the sub-topics listed underneath.
Bats.
Cold spots.
Fog.
Mist.

This wasn’t about Rhys. But it did describe the thing she’d felt in her bedroom. She hesitated,
then
thumbed to the right page.

Vampires, because of their ability to manipulate the metaphysical, can shape-shift. Unlike werewolves, or any were-creature for that matter, which can only shift into the animal they were infected by, the vampire can shift into many different forms. Shadows, fog and cold air are the most common shifts used by vampires. These particular changes are believed to have come into vogue, over the traditional bat, simply because they were the most effective methods to escape marauding villagers.

Cold air.
Fog.
That was exactly what she’d felt in her room.
Another coincidence?

What if she was being visited by a vampire? And maybe Rhys was a vampire, too. That was how he knew what was happening. He said he heard her cry out, but she knew she hadn’t. She’d been too paralyzed with fear to scream.

“Vampires,” she said out loud, her mind still toying with the idea.

“I’m surprised you guessed,” a deep voice said from behind her, causing Jane to squeal and scramble to her feet. She spun around to see Christian, leaning a hip on the back of the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest as if he’d been standing there for a while. A mocking smile curved his lips.

“You are a smart girl.”

Jane backed away from him, tripping on the book, which had fallen to the floor when she jumped up. She caught herself on the arm of the chair and kept moving backward.

“H—how did you get in here?”

He strolled around the sofa, stopping to pick up the book.

He opened it, absently flipping through the pages. “I came in as a shadow. It tends to be less noticeable than the cold air, as you can attest to. And fog—now that’s hardly discreet, is it?”

Jane stared at him, dizziness coming over her. This couldn’t be real. She didn’t want this to be real.

Christian continued to saunter around the room, not appearing to pay attention to her, but browsing through the book.

“Vampires are believed to be the first creatures to rise out of the primordial ooze,” Christian read aloud. His lip curled upward with disgust.
“Primordial ooze.
It just sounds unpleasant, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond.

He turned a few more pages, then placed the book on the piano and sighed. “So did you ask Rhys about
Lilah
?”

The question was asked so casually, so conversationally, that it took her a moment to comprehend it.

He gave her an impatient look.

“Yes.”

“And he denied everything I said, didn’t he?”

“No—not exactly.”

He started to walk toward her.
“Really?
What did he say?”

She tried to back away farther, but her shoulder hit the marble
molding
around the fireplace.

He stopped just an arm’s length from her. “Tell me.”

“He said that he did—he was intimate with her. But that he didn’t force her.”

Christian rolled his eyes.
“The same old story.”

Jane glanced at the door. She couldn’t make it from this angle. He’d grab her as soon as she tried to get past him. Could she outrun a shadow, anyway?

“But Rhys couldn’t tell you much of the story, could he?
Since he was still hiding the whole vampire aspect.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. “So he couldn’t tell you about the fact that he wasn’t with
Lilah
just the once. He was with her many times. It is true that they only had intercourse that once, but vampires don’t have to have intercourse to be intimate. A vampire’s bite is every bit as intimate as sex. And Rhys bit her many times.”

Jane glanced at the door again, inching slightly in that direction.

Christian noticed, moving closer, until she was nearly pinned to the wall. She stared up at him, and he smiled, a cold smile that didn’t reach his frosty eyes.

“Does it bother you that Rhys bit
Lilah
? Just like he bit you?” He brushed a finger over the bandage still on her neck.

Rhys bit her? Yes. She suddenly knew it was true.

“Did you like his bite?” His voice was low. His finger still touched her neck, trailing from the bandage to her bare skin.