Dark Studies (Arcaneology) (11 page)

“My God.” Angie shuddered.

“Her people have incredible potential. That is why we’ve been trying to find out how many there are. The Indian nations in the Great Basin are too secretive, though. They show one side of themselves to the tourists and social workers, but the other they keep hidden, and we have been unable to penetrate this code of silence.” James caught the waitress’s eye, and after a few moments she appeared with a fresh glass of blood.

Angie waited until the waitress was gone before asking, “Do you think she’s finally built her army?”

“I think she’s made much progress toward it. Enough that she has something to offer the Rocky Mountain Monarch in return for a percentage of his economy.”

“I wish she had succeeded a hundred years ago. The native people deserved better than they got from us. But surely she knows it’s too late, now, to drive the whites out of her territory. What does she hope to accomplish?”

James took a long drink. He looked troubled, and that was unusual for him. He rarely gave much indication as to what he was feeling. “I’m not certain she does realize this. To her, a hundred years is nothing. As a rule, the Covenant prefers not to interfere with the politics of other nations, but in this case we have no choice. An attempt to reclaim her native lands would be misunderstood. The vast majority of people would only see vampires attacking humans, and the result would be a war between our species.”

A wave of cold washed through Angie. Of course. That was exactly what would happen, and it would mean disaster for both sides. Vampires and humans would die by the thousands, perhaps millions if the conflict spread to other countries. It had to be stopped, at any cost. “We can’t allow this to go any further, and I may be in a position to do something. I’m not sure what, but something.”

His gaze flicked up to meet hers. “Angel, no. Years of hatred have twisted her mind, making her vicious even by our standards. You must not make an enemy of her. Give some excuse, and cancel your appointment.”

“If she goes through with her plans, a war between our species is inevitable. Do you really think I’m going to let that happen if I have even the slightest chance of preventing it?”

“There is enough danger in your life already,” he snapped, and she knew he referred to the bounty put on Sarah Miller’s head twelve years ago. “I will relay this information to the Covenant Council, and they can decide how best to deal with Soul Killer.”

“But the Covenant will seek a consensus among its members, and that can’t be done quickly. If she is this close to setting her plans in motion, they might not act soon enough.”

“I will not risk so much on the mere chance you might make a difference!”

“You don’t get to decide for me!”

“And when she starts hunting you down to take vengeance? What then?”

“I’ve had plans in place for a long time, in case my past was ever discovered. I can disappear, if necessary.”

He looked away. The lines on his face deepened, but he didn’t argue. “What can you possibly do?”

“Soul Killer wants to use me to win Rimbeau over. What if I drive them apart instead? If I meet with him and reject him…”

“He would be humiliated.” James nodded reluctantly. “He might not want to ally himself with someone who caused that. Rimbeau considers himself a ladies’ man. He won’t take rejection well, especially from a human.”

Not far away, the lights of a ferryboat twinkled over the darkness of Puget Sound, heading toward the Kingston dock. James drained his glass, set some bills on the table, and they left the restaurant. Cars rolled off two by two and pedestrians ambled down the ramp as he walked her to the foot-passenger bridge.

“I’ll keep the meeting with her,” she decided. “I’ll agree to an interview with Rimbeau on the condition we do it here, in Seattle, so your people can protect me if things get out of hand.”

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

Angie reached up to touch his face. “You know the answer to that.” She lowered her hand to squeeze his shoulder. “In the meantime, can you introduce me to one of the Fallen? I still need to get on with my doctoral dissertation.”

He managed a faint smile. “I don’t know how you juggle your separate lives.”

“I compartmentalize.” She smiled back. “Though they overlap in many ways.”

“Indeed. I will see what I can do. In fact, there is one I know in Reno. Perhaps you can interview him before your meeting with the Monarch.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you.”

James nodded. He didn’t say good-bye or even good night. She gave him one more smile, then turned and made her way up the ramp to board the ferry headed for home.

Chapter Eleven

Only a handful of the Fallen have made themselves known to the public. The ones I’ve spoken with claim they are extremely rare, less than one for every fifty million people on earth, but to date I have found no way of verifying the data.

—Angela Clark, PhD, excerpt from doctoral dissertation

White-gold sunlight blazed across Reno, Nevada, where it nestled against the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Its brilliance robbed the neon signs of their power. The city looked its best at night, or at least its gaudiest. During the day, the casinos and billboards lost their glamour.

Angie gazed at the mountains from her vantage point atop a downtown condominium. The roof was a garden, lush with greenery and flowers not native to the desert. Its owner must spend a fortune on the upkeep. She sat in a comfortable chair, a glass of lemonade next to her on a wrought-iron table, shaded by the leaves of a potted tree.

On the other side of the table a man sat with his legs crossed, one arm resting close enough to her glass that she might accidentally touch him when she picked it up, if she didn’t pay attention. He wasn’t really a man at all, however much he might look like one. James had told her what to expect. She’d seen photographs, too, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality.

He had brown-black hair, fair skin, and cobalt blue eyes. Slender, about six feet tall, perhaps an inch or two more. So beautiful he was almost feminine, but not quite. The angles of his face and the breadth of his shoulders were purely male. The physical package had been deliberately designed for seduction. When the Fallen left the heavens to take on a flesh-and-blood body, they crafted it like a sculptor shaping clay into a masterpiece. But there was something more to their allure than the body itself, and Aaron was the perfect example of that illusive, attractive quality. An aura of sensuality surrounded him, fogging her mind and awakening an awareness of her own body that made her want to shift in the chair.

Yes, James had warned her. But she was used to dealing with vampires. Not with this.

The Fallen actually had a lot in common with them and were sometimes called sex vampires because they fed from the pleasure they gave and received in equally lavish measure. But they didn’t often kill. They didn’t terrorize or torture, unless you considered endless hours spent in a delirium of pleasure to be torture. Nor did they take their prey by force. They wanted willing partners, not victims, and were very good at getting them.

“Do you have any questions about the consent form?” she asked.

They had spent some time going over the form, which outlined the purpose of the research, what he could expect, who would have access to the interview and notes, and numerous other details. While he read through it one more time, Angie took a digital video recorder from her backpack. In her grad student persona, she used it instead of a briefcase. Her clothes were casual, too—a sweater over a tank top, jeans, and Birkenstocks.

Aaron inclined his head. “You’ve been very thorough. However, I cannot sign this as it is.”

“Why not?”

“This section.” He pointed to a particular paragraph. The passage in question was an agreement on his part not to seduce or to have sexual relations of any kind with her. Anthropologists who slept with their study participants would have hell to pay if anyone found out. “I can try, but there is no guarantee I will succeed in reigning myself in. And, to be honest, I have no desire to do so. If you wish to interview me, it is a risk you shall have to take.”

She should have suggested they rent a room with an intercom, so she could interview him from a safe distance. He was already affecting her so much, though, that she couldn’t even conceive of such an idea. Angie found herself nodding. “We’ll just cross that out and initial it, then.”

When they had both initialed the change and signed the agreement, Angie concentrated on setting up the little recorder. Thank God she’d written down her questions in detail. Without her notes, she wouldn’t have remembered what she’d wanted to ask. Now she got them out and forced herself to focus.

“Aaron White,” she began. “That’s the name you go by now. What were you called when you first took on human form?”

He studied his fingertips as he replied, “Amon.”

“Isn’t that one of the Judeo-Christian fallen angels?”

“It always amuses me to see how we fit into the religions and folklore human beings create for themselves. To the children of Abraham, we were divine beings who rebelled against their God. There is a seed of truth in that, I suppose.”

His wistful smile made her want to take his hand. Instead she picked up her glass and had a long drink.

“You’re talking about stories written over three thousand years ago. Is that how old you are, in this form?”

“I left the heavens nearly four thousand years ago.”

“What made you choose to take on a human body?”

Aaron turned to meet her eyes. “You, the children of the earth. Most of my race stays high in the atmosphere, exulting in the radiance of the sun, but some of us dive deep through the clouds to see what is below. For a few, the sight of you is irresistible. You are like a drug that addicts us the moment we see you.”

The way he stared at her, she felt as though she personally were the reason he had come to earth to live among humans. No doubt he had the same effect on any woman, or man for that matter, who caught his interest. “I’ve heard you don’t eat or drink like human beings do.”

“We feed ourselves in other ways.”

“Through sex.”

His gaze traveled down, lingering at her hair, her throat, and her breasts. When he had worked his way back to her face, he answered, “Yes.”

She blushed. Angie hadn’t thought herself capable of it anymore, but apparently she was. It brought a knowing smile to his lips. She found herself staring at them, her own parted in unconscious invitation. When the edge of his hand brushed hers, she actually shuddered. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Doing what?”

“Arousing me.” Angie’s voice deepened to contralto.

“Perhaps.”

“So you can control it.” The analytical part of her managed to make itself heard, just barely.

“To an extent. I can dampen it if I wish, but never completely contain it. Or I can make it stronger.”

“Stronger?”

He didn’t move, just looked at her, and suddenly there was nothing in the world that mattered but his body, his skin, his lips…She closed her hand around the edge of the table that separated them, intending to toss it aside, but at the last second she caught herself and gripped its metal rim hard. Angie ducked her head to keep from looking at him.

“Stop,” she whispered.

“Do you really want me to?” His voice was so close he must be nearly touching her.

Angie clenched her teeth. “Please!”

The Fallen drew back, and desire faded to a murmur. She kept her head down until her breathing returned to normal. When she looked up, she found him watching her with a smile that had turned bittersweet.

“I can make you want me,” he sighed, “But you don’t want to want me.”

“I came here for an interview, Mr. White. I’m trying very hard not to forget that.”

“I see.” He cocked his head. “And when I have answered all your questions?”

Her hand trembled as she let go of the table, picked up her glass, and drained the last of it. Angie opened her mouth. She meant to tell him it would skew the results of her research and probably get her kicked out of the doctoral program if anyone found out. Instead, she heard herself answer, “I won’t say no.”

“I will hold you to that.” His eyelids lowered a degree, and one corner of his mouth rose.

She wanted to get up and put some distance between them, but the recorder wouldn’t capture her voice if she moved any farther from it. Angie had to think for several seconds before she could come up with her next question.

“Well, we’ve established that you can arouse sexual desire to an, ah, astonishing degree.” There she was, blushing again. “What other things can you do that humans can’t?”

Aaron slouched in his chair, stretched out his legs, and crossed them at the ankles. He folded his hands over his stomach. “We are beings of light and air. When we wed ourselves to the earth and water of flesh, we lose much of our true nature, but we still have some influence over our elements.”

A breeze stirred, making the leaves of the potted trees whisper around them. It lifted her hair and bared the nape of her neck before dying down.

“Air,” she murmured. “And light? You have some power over that?”

“During the day, I absorb the sun, and at night I become its moon.”

“You craft flesh and blood bodies out of earth and water, in order to interact with humans. Is it true you have internal organs, nerve endings, hair follicles, and everything else, just like ours?”

“We make ourselves as close to the real thing as possible, down to the smallest of cells. Except for the nerve endings. These are enhanced to be more sensitive. We feed on the pleasure you give us, and that we give you, so the more intense the sensation, the richer the food.”

Angie realized a few moments later that she was just staring at him, with no coherent thought in her head. She cleared her throat and looked away. It took a few seconds to remember she’d been asking about his supernatural abilities.