Blood Hunt (45 page)

Naomi was six inches taller than Two and might have proven a difficult partner if not for her superhuman reflexes. She moved with Two, undulating, twisting, reacting perfectly in time with the beat and with Two’s movements. Two, for her part, was in the best shape of her life and acutely aware of both her improved stamina and new agility. They had been drawing stares all night, their dance an open simulation of sex, liquid and sinuous, rhythmic, building and building, only to pull apart at what seemed the very last second.

Eleven men and four women had tried to cut in, break them apart, draw one of the two of them off. To Two’s surprise and gratification, not all of them had targeted Naomi. Nonetheless, they had turned all of their suitors down. Two and Naomi weren’t here to hook up with strangers. They were here to dance, and there was no better partner to be found for each than the other. Just as Two was thinking this to herself, Naomi seemed to reassert the fact by gleefully grabbing Two’s rump. Two glanced up at her, eyebrows raised, and the vampire leaned in.

“I want you so badly I might strip you right here on the dance floor,” Naomi said, her lips against Two’s ear.

“I doubt anyone would complain,” Two said, pressing against her lover, hands held above her head, hips moving.

“Don’t tempt me!” Naomi laughed. She kissed Two on the cheek, moved her head away, continued dancing.

Two danced with her eyes closed, letting Naomi worry about adapting to her movements, knowing that the vampire girl would have no problem doing so. She thought about the life Naomi had lived, the people she might have loved who were no longer alive. There was Lisette, of course, but had there been others as well? Was Two the first human that Naomi had loved?

Naomi had begun biting Two during sex several months earlier, and as it had with Theroen, the act substantially enhanced Two’s orgasm. While it worried Two, in a way, that they were becoming so close, it seemed impossible to ask Naomi to stop. Not only was the pleasure nearly indescribable, but she didn’t want to hurt Naomi’s feelings.

Then there had been the evening in June when, lying in each other’s arms and at the very edge of sleep, Naomi had said “I love you” to Two for the first time. Naomi had fallen asleep within moments. Two had spent the next hour and a half staring up at the ceiling, unsure of how to react to the vampire’s words. Love? Naomi was wonderful. Beautiful. Amazing. Yet, no, not love. Not quite. Love was for Theroen. Two would not, could not, say those words back to Naomi.

Three weeks ago, Naomi had proven her love in a way more intimate than all of the sex or words Two could ever have asked of her. After the apex of their lovemaking, with both women exhausted and near sleep, Naomi had bitten gently into her own arm and shared her blood with Two. Just a few drops before the wound had healed, just enough to coat Two’s tongue, and yet it had set ablaze within her that old desire, a need that had gone unfulfilled for nearly two years. This was Naomi’s promise, Two understood instinctively, that no matter what the council decided, they would find a way.

Am I the first since Lisette?
Two wondered. It couldn’t be possible. Lisette had died hundreds of years ago. There must have been others. Where were they now? What had happened? What could …

Naomi leaned in close again and said, “Whatever it is you’re thinking about, I order you to stop right now!”

Two laughed, opened her eyes, smiled at Naomi. “Yes, ma’am.”

“
Mademoiselle
!” Naomi corrected, feigning indignation. “I may be four hundred, but I’m not married. Good … now drink this.”

Naomi thrust a glass into Two’s hand, and Two did as she was told. Something sweet and strong burned within, a flavored liquor cut with cola. Vanilla vodka, perhaps, Two thought, but she was too drunk to be sure.

“Where did this come from?” she asked.

Naomi pointed toward a cocktail waitress making her way through the crowd with practiced expertise. “She stopped by while you were … lost in your reverie. Compliments of the bartender.”

“What’d we do to earn that?” Two asked.

“He knows me, and he knows how I tip,” Naomi said. “Also, there are at least a dozen boys who would have bailed on this place already if they weren’t watching us. That’s more money for him. The least he can do is a couple of free drinks, no?”

Naomi was holding a wine glass, cupping it so that her palm covered it. In a single fluid movement, still timed with the music, she switched hands, took it by the stem, brought it to her lips and drank.

“Ooh!” she exclaimed. “Bordeaux. Lovely. I was born near there.”

“This is the last one for me, OK?” Two said. “I mean … unless you want to finish the night listening me to puke.”

“I would truly rather die,” Naomi said, looking grave. “You don’t have to drink it!”

Two smiled at her, kept dancing. “I’m just fine,” she said. “This should be perfect. We’re working it off.”

They were. The DJ had kept the music rolling for nearly two hours straight, blending smoothly from one song to another. Now he took the beat down, and down, ending his set. Two and Naomi cheered with the others in the club. The MC let them know that after a fifteen minute break, there would be yet another act. There was more applause at this announcement, and then the house stereo began blaring.

Two and Naomi turned and began to make their way from the dance floor. A few people applauded them as they left, and they laughed and waved. Eventually, they found a semi-circular couch in a dark corner where they could finish their drinks. Naomi curled up on the soft leather, resting her head on Two’s thigh. Two, beyond caring if the entire world knew that she was sleeping with this woman, ran her fingers through Naomi’s hair.

“Home after this?” she asked, and glanced down in time to catch Naomi trying awkwardly to drink her wine without raising her head. Two laughed, raising her knee in an attempt to aid in the vampire’s endeavor.

“Thanks. Yes, I think I’ve had about enough.”

“I’m going to want to take a shower when I get home,” Two said.

“Can I join you?”

Before Two could make her reply, which would’ve been positive, a male patron leaned over the back of the couch and slurred something at Naomi. It took Two a moment to decipher his thick cockney accent, but she was pretty sure the man had told Naomi that he had a much more interesting lap to put her head in.

“I’ll keep you in mind if I ever fancy getting syphilis, cunt,” Naomi told him. The man sneered at her and turned back in the other direction.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Two commented. She finished her drink and set the glass on a small table at the edge of the couch.

“My first instinct was to punch him so hard in his ‘lap’ that it would be of no further use to him or anyone else. I thought I showed admirable restraint,” Naomi said.

Two laughed. “Should I take you home before you beat someone up?”

Naomi finished the last of her wine in a gulp and sat up, grinning broadly at Two.

“Yes, please,” she said.

* * *

They were lying in what was, for her, absolute darkness. There was no crack in the blinds tonight from which the light of the street might enter. It didn’t matter; they hadn’t needed any light, content to navigate each other’s bodies with fingers, hands and lips.

Naomi had reached orgasm three times, and at the last she had gasped in a strained voice, “God.
Je vais mourir.
”

Two, who had learned a bit of French, had laughed. “You’re not dying,” she had said, yet only minutes later Naomi had brought her to a place that necessitated burying her face in the pillows and wailing, wondering for herself if she might not survive the night.

Both had lived, and soon they were lying tangled together, the blankets thrown aside, not yet cooled down and unwilling to disconnect. There was only the quiet rush of their breathing, the scent and taste of sex, the feel of each other’s fingers tracing lines along each other’s skin. Then Two had made her request.

“Tell me about the council.”

Naomi took a moment to collect herself, then murmured her answer, her lips somewhere not far from Two’s left ear. “I have been before the European council only twice. Both times were … harrowing.”

There was a pause, and Two supposed Naomi was waiting for the typical sarcastic, acerbic comment. Two had none prepared. She was in a state that precluded any such attitude, still drunk, half-asleep, floating on a cloud of post-orgasmic bliss. Right now, she thought, World War III could start and she would continue simply to lie there, at least until her legs stopped shaking.

After it became clear that Two had no response to her statement, Naomi went on. “I suppose it may be less difficult for you because you’ve not spent hundreds of years dealing with vampire politics. You don’t generally care what’s proper, and aren’t as worried about offending people, so you may not be as scared of them as I was.”

“Probably true,” Two said. She moved her head, resting it between Naomi’s breasts, listening to the vampire’s heartbeat. This sound amused her, unexpected as it might be to people familiar with vampire myths and legends. Naomi wasn’t dead. None of the vampires, regardless of their strain, were.

“Honestly, it’s to your benefit,” Naomi said. Her words were still somewhat slurred from alcohol, exertion, and the proximity of sleep. Two smiled.

“Probably true,” she said again.

Naomi laughed a little, shifting her body, running a finger down Two’s spine. “It will not be like the American council.”

“No?”

“Some of it will be the same. They’ll want your story, of course, and I think you should tell it just as you did before: pull no punches, and give as much detail as you can.”

Two nodded, knowing that Naomi could feel the motion.

“Once you’re done, they will ask questions. I don’t know how many, and I don’t know whether they’ll be interested in anything Stephen or I have to say. It’s possible. Once they have everything they need, they’ll retire, deliberate, and pass judgment. They are all busy people, not much for dallying, and there are only five of them. It won’t take long.”

“Don’t they ever disagree?”

“The youngest vampire on the council is approaching fifteen hundred, and they have all known each other for centuries. Even as you’re telling your story, they will be anticipating each other’s opinions. The American council sometimes needs to debate for weeks – lord knows, I’ve listened to Stephen complain about our ‘pointless bickering’ more than once – but the European council has no such need. They simply decide. Eadwyn understands Gaius, Gaius understands N’debe, and … you get the point.”

“Gauis, N’Debe, Eadwyn … who are the others?” Two asked.

“The other two are Marian and Safeed. I do not know any of the five of them well. I am not even sure which type of vampire they all are, though I know Eadwyn is an Ashayt. He … he hears voices and has a rather unusual manner of speaking. Many call him Eadwyn the Mad.”

Two considered this without speaking. Naomi continued.

“I believe Marian is an Eresh, but she is not
Eresh-Chen
. Her line forked from that of Abraham and Theoren’s sometime in the Bronze Age. The others I do not know, though there is a strong possibility that Safeed is Ay’Araf. That strain originated in the Middle East.”

“Why do they have a crazy vampire on the council?” Two asked.

“There’s no proof that Eadwyn is crazy, just eccentric,” Naomi said. “He is the oldest living Ashayt vampire, has survived since well before the time of Christ, and fears nothing. He claims to speak with the voices of our ancestors, of all those vampires who have gone before us into death. I can’t imagine this is so, but then, who am I to deny any claims of the supernatural? It doesn’t matter – Eadwyn may be crazy, but his insight is always valuable.”

“Oh,” Two said. “Well, I suppose that’s good, then.”

“Yes, provided you can understand him.”

Two sighed, long and deep, half in contentment, and half in concern.

“Don’t worry about it now. It’s late,” Naomi said.

Two changed her position again, kissing Naomi’s shoulder as she moved, resting her head on the pillow so that her lips were near the vampire’s ear.

“I am too tired, too drunk, and way too full of hormones to get worked up about anything,” she murmured.

“Did I … was everything … I mean, did you …” Two could hear the concern in Naomi’s voice. She laughed.

“Sweetheart, stop. Yes. I came twice, and it was amazing. Why do you
still
worry about this?”

Naomi shrugged. “I always worry about it.”

“Why?”

Naomi was silent for a long time; so long, in fact, that Two was positive that the vampire girl had fallen asleep. At last, just as Two was beginning to doze, Naomi spoke. Her words came in a small voice that wavered with tension and, Two realized, terrible sadness.

“I worry because we have been together like this for … for almost a year, now, and you have never said you love me.”

Adrenaline coursed through Two at this statement, and it took an effort to keep her body from jerking, but she managed. When the feeling had passed, somewhat, she took a shaky breath, but did not immediately answer.

“I worry that I’ve failed to … to satisfy you in some way,” Naomi said.

“Naomi, no. It’s not that. You’re … I wish I could say that. I wish
so much
that I could say those words to you. It’s just that if I do say that, then that’s it, right? All of your walls come down.”

“I don’t have many walls left,” Naomi said.

“That still means you have some.”

Naomi sighed. “Yes. And yes, if you say it, Two, then I won’t be able to help myself. Whatever defenses I’ve still got left would disappear, and you could hurt me as badly as anyone ever has.”

“Even Abraham,” Two said.

Naomi nodded. Two waited, thinking, and then said, “Even Theroen.”

When Naomi inhaled next, the sound was shuddery, and Two knew that she was on the verge of tears.

“He took her away from me,” Naomi said.

Two nodded. She kissed Naomi’s temple and put her hand on the vampire’s waist.