Dead Perfect

Leaving the kitchen, she wandered through the house, the word “vampire” repeating in her mind over and over again.

After a time, she went into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. She sat at the table, wondering where his lair was. He didn’t seem to have any trouble finding her. He had found her at her apartment. He had found her at the restaurant. He had found her at a hotel after the plane crash. Why couldn’t she find him?

Sitting there, she formed a mental image of Ronan—long black hair, dark eyes, strong masculine features and physique. She imagined a fine wire stretched from her thoughts to his, and then frowned. If he was sleeping the sleep of the dead, or the Undead, he wouldn’t be having any thoughts, would he? She would have to try something else. He had taken her blood and given her his. According to the books he wrote, books she knew now were based on fact, a blood exchange was supposed to form some kind of supernatural bond between the vampire and the one he had shared blood with.

She finished her coffee and put the cup aside, then stood in the middle of the room, her eyes closed, and concentrated on Ronan. She lost track of time as she stood there, waiting, though she wasn’t sure exactly what it was she was waiting for.

Gradually, into her mind came the same image she’d had before, of Ronan lying in a casket.

When nothing happened, she conjured a mental image of blood, a deep red river of blood, flowing between them, and as she did so, she felt herself being drawn toward the door in the kitchen that led into the basement.

Opening the door, she turned on the light and went down the stairs, her feet carrying her toward the far wall. She ran her hands over the wall, searching for a secret lever, a break in the stone, something. Anything. But there was nothing there.

With a shake of her head, she was about to turn away when something urged her to try again.

Taking a deep breath, all her energy focused on Ronan, she placed her hands against the wall once again. She gasped as something like an electric shock ran up her arms. He was on the other side of the wall. She knew it as surely as she knew he would rise with the setting of the sun.

He was in there, and she would be out here, waiting for him when he awoke.

Ronan came awake as the sun began to set. One minute he was lost in the oblivion of his kind, the next he was awake and aware of everything around him.

Aware that Shannah was waiting for him on the other side of the door.

Rising, he ran a hand through his hair, wondering how she had found him and how long she had been waiting in the basement.

He considered changing his clothes; then, figuring she had waited long enough, he took a deep breath, lifted the heavy iron bar and opened the door.

She was pacing the floor, her back toward him.

“Good evening, Shannah.”

She jumped, startled by the sound of his voice, then whirled around to face him. She started to speak, but the words stuck in her throat when she glanced through the open doorway and saw the coffin beyond.

“It’s true,” she murmured, her face going pale. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”

“I thought we had established that last night.” He frowned. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“I don’t know.”

He took a cautious step toward her and when she didn’t back away, he slipped his arm around her waist to steady her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I knew it was true, that you were really a vampire,” she said, her gaze riveted on the casket. “At least I thought I did…”

“It’s just a bed, Shannah.”

She laughed humorlessly. “A bed with a lid.”

“How did you find me?”

“What?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared.

“Are you afraid of me, now?”

She glanced through the open doorway again, then lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

She searched her heart and then shook her head. “No, I’m not afraid, not of you.”

“Of what I am?”

“Yes,” she murmured, staring at the casket again. “A little.”

He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face toward him. “How did you find me?”

“I’m not sure. But you always seemed to be able to find me, so I thought…I just focused on you…I’d seen you in my mind once before, you know. Anyway, I focused on you and on the blood we had shared, and it drew me down here and…you’re not going to believe this, but when I touched the wall, I knew you were on the other side.”

“Shannah, calm down. Take a deep breath. That’s right. Nothing’s changed. I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

“I know, I know, but…” She pointed toward the open door and the casket beyond. “It’s just so…I don’t know.” She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “I don’t want to die!”

“You don’t have to.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to be what you are. I don’t want to sleep in a…in one of those. I don’t want to die every time the sun goes down! I’m afraid, Ronan, I’m so afraid.”

“Shh. There now, love, there’s nothing to fear. Hush, now.” Taking her hand in his, he led her up the stairs and into the kitchen. Closing the door behind him, he took her into the living room.

Sitting on the sofa, he drew her onto his lap, one hand slowly stroking her back and her hair.

“Don’t cry, love, I won’t let you die.”

“I don’t…”

“My blood will keep you alive, Shannah, just the way it has been since you first came here. If you can’t accept it, I’ll wipe the memory from your mind each time, just as I have before.”

She sniffed. “But it doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work?”

“Erasing the memory from my mind. Last night, you told me I wouldn’t remember…” She shuddered. “You told me I wouldn’t remember drinking your blood, but I did.”

He swore softly. That changed things. “Shannah, look at me. Can you read my mind?”

“No, of course not,” she said, then frowned. “You’re thinking that things have changed. You’re wondering why your suggestions aren’t working anymore.” Her eyes widened. “Why can I read your mind?”

“The bond between us must be stronger than I thought.” He erected a mental barrier between them. “Try again.”