Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) (21 page)

“So if it turns out that I’m not truly immortal, I can expect to live to anywhere between a hundred sixty and two hundred years old?”

Lochlan nodded. “Give or take a decade.”

Mark looked at me for a long moment. “Well then,” he said slowly, “if it becomes apparent that I’m not going to live forever, I want to be turned.”

“Absolutely not!”
Juliette exclaimed. “Mark, think about what you’re saying, about what you’ll be giving up: No more sunrises, no more sunshine. You’ll only want to sleep during the day.”

“Lochlan is up right now,” Mark pointed out.

My brother cleared his throat. “The only reason I am wide awake right now is because I consumed the entire blood supply of a 400-pound porcine in order to spare your life and my sister grief,” Lochlan reminded him.

Juliette looked at him, again with widened eyes. “Saphrona said you fed on one of the pigs—you actually killed it?”

Loch nodded.
“Aye.
Meeting your brother awakened a bloodlust the likes of which I have not felt since I was newly turned,” he told her. “It was by no small effort that I was able to maintain my self-discipline and deny the urge to take his life right in front of Saphrona’s eyes. I may not share blood with her as you do with Mark, my lady, but she is my sister nonetheless, and I have no desire to cause her harm. I do not think I could live with myself if such a thing were to occur.”

The shapeshifter’s expression changed to one that I could not decipher, but before she could formulate a response, my brother continued. “Something else you’ll have to give up, Mark, is food, because the only thing you will be able to digest as a vampire is blood. It is the only thing you’ll want, and I for one dearly miss the taste of steak, pork, potatoes… I miss wine and water and tea, and I’ll never know what soda tastes like. Although you’d still be able to consume them, they’d be tasteless and do absolutely nothing for you, so all the things you enjoy eating and drinking now you may as well give up for good. Whoever Vivian Drake got her information from is right about one thing: this is not a life I would wish on anyone.”

“But what if it’s the life I’m meant to lead? I’ve known Saphrona only two days and already I can’t stand the thought of losing her, or leaving her alone in this world,” said Mark imploringly.

I reached one hand up to cup his cheek. “Mark, I don’t think I could put into words how much it means to me to hear you say that. Yet as much as I would like to keep you with me forever, as pleased as I am that you would want to be turned to stay with me, I suddenly find I can’t stand the thought of you giving up your life as you know it to become a vampire, just so I don’t have to give you up.”

“Look, how about this,” Juliette put in. “Put the thought of turning out of your mind. Don’t make any kind of decision about it now, when you’ve just met—wait until you know for sure whether you’re already immortal or not.”

“But how do we find out?” Mark asked. “If so many
dhunphyr
are killed outright, how will we ever know?”

“I know what we do,” I said. “We’ll just have to find another
dhunphyr
. If your stepmother and her pack managed to keep you hidden from us for thirty years, there’s bound to be another
dhunphyr
somewhere in the world.”

“You may well be right, Saphrona,” agreed Lochlan, “but supposing there is,
do
you not also think it possible that he or she is also hiding or being hidden for their own safety? Wouldn’t our finding this person put him or her in jeopardy?”

“I know, and I don’t relish the thought of endangering someone just to satisfy our curiosity,” I replied, then looked at Mark. “But at the same time, what other choice do we have?”

*****

Obviously, none of us had a clue as to where to start our search for other
dhunphyr
. Juliette said she would call her mother and ask her about getting the word out to other shifter communities, to see if they could provide any help or information. Lochlan and I both said we would speak to our various vampire contacts to see what information they could or would give us. Mark wondered whether our asking other vampires about immortal humans would arouse suspicions, but I said that I could easily say it was all related to my search for Vivian Drake’s source.

After we reached the farm, Lochlan bid Mark, Juliette, and I farewell and left. Mark took my hand and turned toward the back door, though I hesitated as I noticed Juliette still staring contemplatively down the driveway.

“Juliette, what is it?” I asked her.

“How is it that he’s not burning?” she mused. “I get why he’s awake—it’s because of how much blood he ingested, and now he’s juiced up like he had a keg’s worth of Red Bull. But how is it he’s not burning when his windshield is clear glass?”

I turned to her. “Juliette, do you recall that I said
most
of what I wrote in the
Everland
books was true?” I asked. When she nodded, I went on, saying, “Well, the whole bit about burning is just something I culled from popular vampire lore. Vampires don’t actually burn in the sun at all—it’s just a ridiculous myth.”

“Then
what’s the real reason vampires—
well, most vampires—don’t go out during the day?”

I glanced up at Mark, then back at his sister. “You know that human beings operate on a diurnal cycle, right? They’re inclined to be up during the day as a result of their biology. When they become vampires, their internal chemistry reverses, and their cycle becomes nocturnal. Not only that, the hormone that puts us all to sleep—melatonin—it’s produced in exponential amounts in a vampire during the day, making them practically comatose if they don’t consume blood regularly. I’m not affected that way because I got a normal pineal gland from my mother.”

Juliette nodded silently. I turned back for the house, where Mark was waiting for me on the stoop.

“Why didn’t you react to Mark the same way he did? Lochlan said he was hard-pressed not to kill him, yet even when you smelled his blood it didn’t faze you, unless it did and you’re just not telling me.”

I cast another glance at Mark and then turned once again to face his sister. “When Mark first came here the other day, the first thing I noticed about him was that he smelled human,” I said with a shrug. “That didn’t bother me because I’ve developed a resistance to the scent of humans. It wasn’t until we were within thirty feet of one another that my supe-sense told me he wasn’t human after all, and although there is still room for doubt based on what we know versus what some of us were led to believe, Lochlan thinks that means he
is
immortal.”

“Because otherwise, why would her spidey-sense have tingled, right, if all that was different about me was my advanced healing factor?” Mark added. “Plus, it occurred to me that I’m not just Wolverine, but Connor MacLeod, too.”

His sister raised an eyebrow. “What the deuce are you talking about?” she queried, crossing her arms and staring at him expectantly.

He stepped back down the stoop to stand next to me. “Remember me saying I was gonna consider myself that guy from
Highlander
until there was proof otherwise that I’m not immortal? Do you recall that he dies and comes back to life?”

Juliette nodded, but said, “You’ve never died, though, Mark. You’ve never woken in a cold box in the morgue.”

Mark pointed to the scar on his neck, which was just visible over the collar of his t-shirt. “This could have—should have—killed me. I know it as sure as I’m standing here, sis. Don’t you think that means something?”

I put a hand on his arm. “Maybe it does, honey, but I wrote the
dhunphyr
character in my books based on what I
thought
I knew about them. And if you really have read
the books, you’d recall that immortal humans can still be killed.”

“By decapitation or destroying the heart, I remember,” he said. “
Neither of which has happened or
will happen to me.”

Mark reached out and put an arm around my shoulders, offering first me and then Juliette a reassuring smile. “Knowing what I do about what I am, I think there’s more to my survival of that explosion than my healing factor. There has to be, when I was so close to dying.”

“I sure hope you’re right, big brother.”

“Of course I am,” Mark said with a chuckle. “Big brothers are always right, don’t you know that?”

“And the blood?”
Juliette said, looking at me and ignoring her brother’s quip.

“Juliette, when I saw the horse at the side of the driveway I knew that Mark had to have been hurt, and all I could think about was getting to him and making sure he was all right,” I told her. “Amazingly, the smell of his blood didn’t register, probably because I was so consumed with worry about him.”

“And because you hadn’t tasted it yet,” she pointed out. “What about now that you have? What assurances can you give us that you’re not just going to attack him?”

“Jules, don’t you remember the conversation we had in the car after we left the movie theater?” Mark reminded her.

“He’s right, Juliette,” I said. “If I killed him I’d be signing my own death warrant as well. I believe the fact that Mark is my bondmate is what will keep me from doing him any irreparable harm—it may be why the scent of his blood has never made me want to attack him outright. Not to mention the fact that I have more than a hundred eighty years of abstinence from drinking human blood.”

“You drank his.”

I nodded. “I did. Maybe because it’s a part of my vampire nature, maybe not. If you’ve ever been with a man, I’m sure you know that intense moments of passion can make a person do things he or she wouldn’t normally do. Could be that the wild emotions are what triggered the instinct, I don’t know. But I do know that I cannot and will not kill him.”

Though I had berated myself all night long because I had feared just that, I realized as I said those words that I absolutely believed them. There was simply no way I would allow myself to destroy the greatest thing that had ever happened to me, and as I accepted that as truth I was overcome by a feeling of peace and love, which I knew shown in my eyes when I looked up at the man that had made it all possible. I read his acceptance of my devotion in his own gaze and saw him return it in full measure, saw his want and his need of me, and then I watched, mesmerized, as those fathomless eyes seemed to shift.

His want and his need of me had morphed into a smoldering desire that instantly had my body singing in response.

Juliette groaned, and I heard her walking toward the barn and her apartment. I moved past Mark to unlock the back door and open it, upon which I was greeted heartily by Moe and Cissy. After delivering the appropriate amount of hugs and kisses onto the tiny dogs, I ushered them outside and into their kennel, and then went inside
with Mark right behind me.

He grabbed me as soon as he had shut the kitchen door, and I returned his kiss eagerly. Mark began pulling at my blouse but I stayed his hands; though I had imagined it many times and knew that one day we would make love on the dining table, I wanted him upstairs and in our bed. I took him by the hand and led him into the living room, up the stairs and into the bedroom, then dropped his hand and turned to face him. He reached for me again but I pushed his hands away, smiling slyly as I removed first my shoes and then my socks and dropped them on the floor. Next I pulled my shirt out of the waistband of my jeans and started to pull it over my head, slowly, teasingly, and then I doffed it as well.

Mark’s eyes were full of hunger, and I saw his raw desire in them. I took my time removing the rest of my clothing, until I stood before him nude, wearing nothing but a smile. With his eyes on mine, Mark reached to remove his shoes and socks, kicking them aside when they were off. But when he went for his shirt, I stopped him again, and taking the hem in my hands I undid the buttons one by one and pushed it off his shoulders. I then reached for the clasp of his jeans and undid those, pushing the pants and his underwear down his legs. He stepped out of them quickly, and when he reached for me again, I let him pick me up and carry me to the bed.

*****

After our languorous session of lovemaking, Mark and I had gone down to the kitchen to make dinner, and during the course of it, he went to fetch Juliette so she could eat with us. When the two of them returned, she informed us that she had once again spoken to her mother, and that Monica had agreed to speak with her pack’s leaders about contacting other shifter breeds for information on the alleged immortality of
dhunphyr
.

When we sat down to eat, she went on with, “I wonder how Lochlan plans to find that bloodsucker from the movie theater.”

“Well, like you, he’s got his scent now,” I said. “He won’t forget what he smells like,
nor
what he looks like, so he’ll make inquiries with every vampire he knows to see if anyone they know matches the description. They, in turn, will ask everyone else they know, and so on. Eventually he will find him—Loch’s good at that sort of thing.”

I added that while there was still time before the animals needed to be brought in, that I would also make calls to the vampires I still communicated with, doing pretty much the same thing as my brother—putting out feelers. I had to believe that at some point, one of us would come up with something, some piece of evidence that would confirm or deny the story I had believed since childhood.