Feral: Book One Page 7

  “Why aren’t you cold?”

  “Am I not?” he shot back, a look of amusement written on his face.

  “Well, a little,” I responded embarrassedly. “But it’s not like you’re a block of ice. I thought vampires were supposed to be as cold as death, or something equally and dramatically poetic.”

  “Again, amore, it depends on the breed. Strigois and vetalas most certainly are. The moroi have rather chilly body temperatures, as do the pischachas. Sexual vampires, however cool to the touch, are the warmest of the breeds.

  “A vampire’s temperature depends on what they feed upon,” he said in much the same manner one would expect a physician to discuss clinical aspects of any given disease. “The strigoi and vetalas are purely psychic vampires, meaning they feed solely on energy. No blood, no physical life. Vampires like the moroi are exactly the opposite. They are solely blood drinkers.

  “Now, it is said that blood is the life, and that is true to an extent. There is energy within blood, but it is limited. Hence, they are slightly warmer than psychic vampires, though not by much.”

  “And being an incubus, you drink both—the physical and spiritual elements combined being more fulfilling.” I concluded. “But how is it other breeds survive without both?”

  “That is something I have spent, and am still spending, a great deal of time trying to determine. As far as I have been able to tell, it has something to do with the components of the different viruses that make up the disease of vampirism.” He grinned. “However, it is difficult getting other breeds to comply with being tested when we all have a mutual dislike for the other.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Despite the early hour, I already felt a headache developing, and I was beginning to give out underneath the information and emotions. I really did not want to have to think of anything too complicated at the time, so I simply said the first easy thing that popped into my mind. “Is Simon your real name?”

  “Simon is not my birth name, but it is my legal name currently. I was born Simundos Benasuti Geragio to Girardus Alviso Geragio, Marchese de Treviso in 1402. I guess it goes without saying as to where.”

  “You’re aristocracy.”

  “Yes.”

  “You said your father’s name. Why not your mother’s?” His eyes hardened so suddenly, so darkly that I winced and stuttered. “I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t…I’m sorry.” I bowed my head and almost instantly felt his fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face back to his.

  “Cara, I am not angry with you, if that is what you are thinking, and I know it is. It is simply that thinking of my mother, and indeed my father, brings to mind unpleasant memories.” He sighed. “But to answer your question in short, I was the product of infidelity on my father’s part, and as his wife could not give him an heir, I was the alternate to the son he truly wanted but would never have.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” I responded softly, feeling guilt welling up.

  “No, per favore. Please, do not be. It is in the past.”

  I stayed silent for a while, trying to beat my remorse into submission, finally succeeding and blurting out, “You’re old.”

  “Indeed. I have lived lifetimes, mostly in peace, but always with blood on my hands,” he said with gravity as he moved closer. “Would you now dare challenge me to kiss you, given what you have learned of me?”

  “Yes.”

  Now why did I say that?

  The question was swept from my mind as he dipped his face closer.

  His lips were not as cold as I would’ve imagined a vampire’s being. Then again, while I’d never known him to be warm, he certainly had never been icy. A little on the chilly side, yes, but not freezing. I had always assumed he had some sort of circulation problem, which usually resulted in cool extremities, but it seemed I was wrong in my presumption as to why he was always less-than-warm.

  I didn’t have much time to reflect on the subject as his cool lips ghosted over and parted mine ever-so-gently, his tongue tracing the seam of my upper lip before delving inside and allowing me to finally taste him.

  I waited for my mind to begin screaming in alarm, for my body to begin fighting against him in panic, but it never happened. My mind went pleasantly numb, save for any thoughts of him, and instead of struggling, my body swayed closer.

  I was so lost in his delicious kiss that I didn’t hear a deep growl or the sounds of wood and dry wall splintering and cracking around me. Before I could even comprehend what had happened, I felt my face slamming into a rough, unforgiving surface, and a twinge of terror welled up as I watched the world around me fade to black.

  When I came to, I blinked against the light being aimed at me. I tried to back away from the painful sensation it evoked in my eyes, but unfortunately, my hasty movements only increased my discomfort and made my stomach clench. I groaned and flopped back onto whatever I was laying on, and winced when my head touched what I was sure was a pillow.

  The last thing I could remember was kissing Simon, so what the hell happened? Had he attacked me?

  “No,” I heard a gentle voice reply to the words I’d not realized I had asked aloud until then. “I could never hurt you, even if I tried.”

  It took a few moments for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I found a familiar face staring down at me. “Simon.” I naturally mimicked his small smile. “What happened?” I took in the dark, cobalt walls and bookshelves. “Where am I?”

  “The library.”

  “Oh.” I closed my eyes, shutting out the diffused light that aggravated my throbbing headache. “You would have a library.”

  “Infatti.”

  “Infatti,” I repeated before inquiring him as to what happened.

  “Sofia,” he started hesitantly, “I am not certain you will take this news well, particularly given what has just occurred.”

  “You mean me being attacked in your home?”

  “Yes.”

  I tried to open my eyes and shut them directly. “Can you please do something about the light? It hurts.” A distressing thought entered my mind. “Oh my God! Don’t tell me I’m a vampire and this is the excruciating way we wake up.”

  Evidently, the attack had managed to deprive me of some brain cells. It was common knowledge that the human brain could sustain damage if it was smacked against the inside of its bony shelter. Maybe I’d just hit harder than I had imagined.

  He chuckled, during which I heard a click and could see the light disappear through my lids. “No, you are still very much human, albeit a rather battered human at the present, but human nonetheless.”

  “Tell me,” I demanded simply, finally able to open my eyes without wanting to claw them out.

  “If you insist, though I warn you, it may cause you some grief.”

  I briefly wanted to go back to sleep and not wake up, particularly when awareness of who it was that probably assaulted me dawned. “Cole.”

  “Yes, but the attack was not directed at you. He was attempting to initiate a fight with me,” he replied sympathetically. One of his hands came to rest on my now-loosened curls, his fingers tightening and relaxing to tenderly massage my aching head. “Unfortunately, you were simply caught between a new male endeavoring to challenge an older male for his mate.”

  “Challenge?”

  “Sì. He was attempting to… take you from me.”

  I was not entirely sure what to say at the moment, and I voiced my muddled thoughts.

  “You do not have to say anything, amore. It is, as you said before, quite a bit to take in. If you would like to rest, I can take you to my room, but I will only let you sleep if you let me check you for a concussion.”

  I was exhausted, but given how sensitive I seemed to be to light at the time, I knew it was a good idea.

  When he was done, he offered a melancholy smile. “Amazingly, you do not have a one, but I imagine you probably have an ungodly headache. You should probably take something. I actually have a few pills of
Tylenol-three, so that should take away most of the pain and let you sleep. Is there something other than water I can bring you?”

  “I guess you wouldn’t happen to have chocolate milk?” I watched his eyebrows nearly disappear into his coffee hair line. “Yeah, I know it’s silly, but I like it. Um, thank you.”

  The man just admitted to being a killer, and I was asking him for chocolate milk. While I longed to believe this was the strangest dream of my life, I had the distinct feeling it was very real, however far-fetched, and that my life was about to become very complicated.

  “Please, do not thank me for taking care of you,” he said. “I only wish for your sake that it was not necessary. I can assure you my plans for this evening were not to be attending to your aches and bruises, for which I apologize immensely. Indeed, I am very surprised that you have not entered a full-blown panic and demanded to be taken home.”

  “Too tired,” I managed to breathe out through a labored laugh. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  I was stunned when he scooped me up with ease, lifting me as if I weighed no more than a feather, though I supposed I shouldn’t have been—he had admitted to being a vampire, after all. I wound my arms around his neck while he carried me from his library, down a hall and to a room with naked, powder-blue walls and a bed with a thick, midnight-colored comforter.

  As soon as I was resting comfortably, he disappeared and returned after a few short moments with two blue capsules and a tall glass of milk—it wasn’t chocolate, but given he was in fact a vampire, I wasn’t really expecting it. Why did a vampire have milk anyway? Then again, why did a vampire have Tylenol of any kind?

  The questions went unasked as I took the pills without reservation, and this seemed to be surprise him. “You haven’t given me a reason not to trust you yet, but you have to promise we’ll talk about this tomorrow.” I heard him agree, and had just closed my eyes when they popped back open. “My father. I need—” a yawn split my words— “I need to call my father.”

  I could have sworn I heard him say it had been taken care of, and I wondered how he had managed to accomplish that. I tried to ask, but my tongue was heavy, and I was already slipping into unconsciousness.

  SIX

  I woke what I assumed was a few hours later to pitch black and panic seized me.

  “Calm, mio tesoro. You are safe.” The sound of Simon’s voice soothed my fear, and I struggled to sit up, but he stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I would imagine,” he said, rich tone coming from above and to the right of me, “that even after such a deep slumber, you still have a headache, not to mention others. I could give you some more Tylenol-three if you would like.”

  “No, thank you,” I mumbled, relaxing back into the comfy mattress. “Although, regular Tylenol would be nice.”

  “Certo.”

  I felt the bed shift when he left, and blinked when a lamp light clicked on less than two seconds later. “Wow. Wasn’t expecting it that fast.” He didn’t respond, not that I really expected him to, and I waited several minutes after taking the gel-caps before asking him anything. “Where’s Cole?”

  “Kendal is escorting him to an older, knowledgeable clan in New York,” he said, his words measured. “The city is much more hospitable to our breed.” He went silent and stayed quiet for so long I had to prod him to speak, and the smile he offered was pained. “I am afraid you have a contusion covering a large portion of your left cheek. It is…noticeable.”

  “That’s your polite way of saying it looks god-awful,” I groused. “And how am I supposed to explain this anyway?”

  “The truth,” he stated. “You were out with some friends, your ex attempted to start a fight, and in the commotion, you were injured. If anyone needs details, say you were accidentally shoved into a table rather than a sofa.”

  “And Cole,” I blurted suddenly. “He attacked you because of me?”

  His face lost any traces of playfulness and his expression became cold, his eyes remorseful. “I was very much aware that Colton seemed determined to regain contact with his partner from his human life, but never once did I hear him mention your name. I can assure you if Kendal had been remotely aware of Colton’s objectives, he would have alerted me immediately. I suspect, given Kendal’s place in Colton’s former life, Mister Malver felt it would be prudent to refrain from speaking of anyone from his past or behaving in a suspicious manner. Mister O’Cleirigh was just as taken aback by your revelation as I was when you told me.”

  Guilt seemed to darken his eyes. “Kendal was of the belief that, being the alpha male of this clan, I should reveal my relationship and intentions concerning you to Colton. Usually when the dominate male asserts his authority, it is followed without question, and given that Kendal is his creator and I above both of them, I—we both—unwisely presumed my orders would be obeyed.

  “I am also ashamed to say that I did not fully…comprehend just how obsessed Colton was until now,” he said quietly. “And if I am to be honest, I am unsure if I would be capable of allowing him to return to this clan. If he returns and attempts to challenge me again, I may kill him.”

  As I listened to Simon talk, I nestled deeper into the bedding and struggled to comprehend the night’s events. Before, I’d thought the biggest hurtle to our relationship was that I was a student and he an instructor of the same university, but it seemed I was wrong as Simon Treviso was a vampire. The man I had been slowly falling for was an incubus, a sexual creature who preyed on the life of other humans, and I, it seemed, was his mate.

  Then there was Cole, my ex-boyfriend from high school. Cole was the reason I was in this bed, a growing bruise on my face. I tried my best to excuse it as him being a new vampire, something I myself was struggling to come to grips with, and not being fully in control of his strength, or indeed any of his faculties, but the truth of the matter was that if he had accepted my decision to end our relationship and had attempted to move on when human, then there would have been a chance there would’ve been no feelings, or at the very least lesser feelings, to act upon.

  In the very end, when all of the excuses turned to ash in my mouth, Cole had caused me harm by not growing up, by not making the decision to mature when he had the opportunity to do so. Now, he was an angry, obsessed, violent being whom I truly feared would have no hope for change.

  “Do you think if Cole had the chance that he’d kill me?” I asked pensively. “I mean, I’ve heard in some cases if people who are obsessed with their goals don’t achieve it, if they think they are losing the object of their obsession, they’d rather sacrifice their goal than allow someone else to take it.”

  “I would never allow that to happen, mio tesoro, but I suppose we can speak metaphorically for a moment,” he agreed. “If there was ever a circumstance in which I could not reach you, say if I were severely—and it would have to be quite severe, I assure you—incapacitated, then Colton could easily take your life, probably from uncontrolled feeding.”

  When I shuddered, he stroked my arms through the periwinkle sheets. “You must understand that when a vampire finds their mate within a human, there is an intrinsic desire to feed from them, a rather macabre, animalistic bonding experience. And,” his voice again took on a guilty tinge, “had I or Kendal either known of his obsession, we—”

  “You wouldn’t have told him,” I concluded. “Simon, I don’t blame you. When y’all took him in, you didn’t know who I was, and I’m sure Kendal had forgotten about our relationship.” When he gave me a pointed stare, I shrugged. “Okay, so I’m guessing y’all don’t forget, well, anything. But still, we had been out of high school for awhile. A lot of relationships don’t survive ‘the college experience’. It would be natural to think Cole and I were long over, especially if he never mentioned me. I’d hoped by now, he’d’ve gotten over it.”

  “Yes, well, evidently he has not.”

  “Evidently.”

  “Sfacciata.”

  “Yeah. I still can’t speak Italian. Engli
sh, please?”

  “Cheeky.”

  “Infatti.”

  He growled, a sound which left me nearly speechless. He had growled. A real growl! Not that low, drawn-out huff that humans made, but an actual, honest-to-God rumbling in his throat. “You seem shocked,” he managed through the rough sound.

  “Is that the only sound you make?”

  I had meant to be sassy, with a hint of snark. I didn’t think he’d actually make other noises, or that he’d call me on my teasing. Yet without even a moment's hesitation, as he lowered his lips to kiss his way up the side of my neck and nuzzle my ear, making me shiver, the sound shifted positions from his throat to his chest.

  His purr, I decided, was truly the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, and I whispered my thoughts to him, the volume increasing and reminding me of a contented jungle cat. I found the sound unexpectedly comforting, something I greatly needed given the unusual position I found myself facing.

  Vampires were real.

  The thought churned up more thoughts and feelings, disbelief battling with my desire to understand, to learn, to accept, and I was certain this internal struggle was a major contributor to the headache I had. “May I ask you a question?” I asked after a few minutes of resting in his embrace. “It’s pretty personal, I should warn you.”

  “As your mate, there is nothing that is personal,” he responded. “I will answer any questions you have, no matter how personal you believe them to be. Whatever I know, you have a right to know as well, mia diletta.”

  “You said vampires inherently want to drink their human mates’ blood,” I stated calmly. “So you want to drink my blood?”

  “Yes.” It was frank for sure, but I could not help but think there was something missing from his answer, and it took several minutes of prodding for him to continue with what it was he really wanted to say. “While I am unsure what you smell like to others, to me you have the bouquet of an exquisite Amarone wine. A fragrant blend of coffee and cherries. Full and generous. Almost awe-inspiring with its powerful flavors, with just a small bite at the end of the experience."