Incubus (11 page)

So much for Neshi's bedside manner. “But it will. That's what we're doing right now, you and I. We're going to see that you come out of this feeling fine.”

He fixed his gaze on hers, but there was no light or life in his eyes. “Thank you.”

Caroline tried to latch on to his emotions, but they trickled through her fingers before she could make them out. He found a straggling thread on the hem of her jeans and plucked it off, then covered her ankle with his big bronze hand. He had such a warm, gentle touch.

Caroline sighed and tried to recapture her train of thought. “Why not go visit Ellory and his family this week?”

Slowly, softly, he said, “I can't. We're out of touch with one another.”

“I'll help you find them.”

She looked down at her notebook and scribbled a note to herself. When she looked up again, Meical had risen to kneel in front of her. She hadn't heard him move. She
met his gaze and felt as though she were falling headfirst into his eyes.

“My turn,” he said in a hushed voice.

She smiled, raising her inner shields as fast as she could. “I had a happy, normal childhood, was probably way too spoiled, had a lot of good school friends while growing up and that's all there is to tell. We're not talking about my secrets, so put that thought out of your mind.”

“I know your secrets already. All of them. If I name just one, maybe you'll see you can trust me.”

Caroline regarded him in silence. He was an empath of remarkable skill, but could he really deduce things she didn't want to share with anyone? He suddenly seemed less charming.

She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “Be my guest.”

“Your last name.”

“What about it?”

“It isn't Bengal. That's just your alias.”

Her heart catapulted into her throat. Nobody knew that.

“You chose that for your alias because the Bengal tiger is powerful, beautiful and stealthy—everything you've wanted to be since they hurt you. The tiger can camouflage herself, so she can't be found unless she wishes to confront her enemies or pursue her prey. And no one dares to trespass on her. Believe me, Caroline,
that
is something I understand very well. I can help you. Let me.”

She'd seen what he could do when he confronted
Hicks. She could believe he was quite capable of protecting himself. Maybe even her. But a drunken bully like Hicks was nothing compared to a psychopath like Burke.

It was time to retake control of the situation before it derailed all the good their session had done. “I notice, Meical, that you seem to think very little of yourself. I'm wondering why, because offering to help me with my problems isn't the sort of thing a bad guy would do.”

He slumped back on his haunches, giving her breathing room, but his eyes were razor sharp. “I'm not safe for your kind.”

“My kind of what? Explain, please.”

He ran his tongue over his front teeth and shrugged. “People in general.”

So, his use of the words “your kind” meant the rest of the human race, as though he weren't a part of it. “So, you're saying that you're a threat to humanity?”

“Where you're concerned, in fact, I'm nothing less than a monster.”

“No, where I'm concerned, you're a nice man who just offered to help me. You can't have it both ways. Either you're a good, safe man to be around and you believe that about yourself, or you believe you're dangerous and I should respond accordingly by not trusting you. Do you see what you've done to yourself? You've accepted someone else's definition of what kind of person you are, and yet it's so hurtful to you that you've begun to think of yourself as a being separate from the rest of the human race.”

Meical burst out laughing, and because it surprised
her so, Caroline laughed, too. She had just speared him to the heart of his psychosis and he laughed? And it wasn't a nervous, evasive laugh, or a laugh of ridicule, but a genuine laugh of real amusement.

Still chuckling, he said, “If you knew how right you are, tigress, you wouldn't let me get this close to you.”

“Okay, then,” she said without a grain of emotion in her voice, “that brings us right back around to where we were a minute ago. I am your doctor. You are my patient. The end.”

She went to the kitchen again to let him stew. If her logic worked, he'd fabricate an exception to his delusion of being an all-powerful dangerous being in order to obtain the state of friendship with her that he believed he wanted. And that was what she was waiting for—a crack in his punitive self-image that she could chip away at.

She reached a couple of cups down to pour them some of the coffee she'd made. When she turned around, Meical was standing there. He was much too quick and quiet on his feet.

He folded his arms and smiled at her with relish that was deliciously disturbing. “You have no choice but to trust me.”

Good, good, good. He'd come up with his exception after all, a justification for suspending his negative thoughts about himself and a reason of his own for why he was worthy of her trust and friendship. Perfect.

“And why is that?” she asked.

“Because I'm the only one who can protect you from the men who tortured you and left you for dead.”

The odds that Meical had read about her attack in a newspaper were slim to nada. The story hadn't even made it past the local papers at home, and it seemed doubtful he'd been in the Las Cruces area when she'd been attacked. No. He'd picked the details of her experience out of her mind, just like her chosen alias.

“Stop helping yourself to my thoughts, Meical.”

“Answer my questions and I won't have to. What will you lose by trusting me?”

He looked so calm and formidably strong. But what could Meical possibly know about predators like Burke? “It's
you
who could lose,” she murmured.

He lifted her hand to his lips. “I'm resilient.”

She shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed by the soothing prospect of leaning on someone. To share her burden, if only for a while. To find solace with someone without fearing the risk she was laying at his door. The idea brought tears to her eyes.

“I could get you killed. I can't live with that.”

His gentle smile beguiled her. “If I swear I won't let them kill me, that you can rely on my strength and protection, free of guilt and worry for my life, and that I won't desert you when things get rough, will you tell me what I want to know?”

When tears trickled down her cheeks, he drew her close and just held her. Caroline closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the comfort of being held. It felt so good, she wouldn't let herself question how she could bear his embrace, when only days ago she would have
freaked to allow any man to stand this close to her in a space as small as her kitchen nook.

This ease she felt around him had to be because of the dreams. Of course. They would naturally have an impact on her comfort zone around him. Her heart pounded. Did she really dare let Meical into the hell her life had become?

She let him lead her to the couch and pull her down beside him, but when he eased his arm around her, her initial reaction was to pull away.

“Sheathe your claws, tigress,” he murmured. “I'm unarmed.”

Caroline looked up into his eyes and saw strength she hoped she wasn't just imagining. His gaze dulled her uneasiness as though she'd downed a half bottle of very good wine. “I'm not going to mention names or places.”

“That's okay. I know from talking to John that what happened to you had something to do with an emergency case.”

She thought she'd just rattle it all off without stopping to think. But when her words didn't come, she realized it was going to be harder to talk about what had led up to that night than she'd realized.

“It was my mentor's case, a nearly catatonic nine-year-old John Doe who was picked up by the police wandering along the highway one night. I used fairy tales to reach him. I changed the plot to build a scenario I believed fit his situation and watched for a response from him. ‘Jack and the Beanstalk' was the one he clicked with. So I called him Jack. I told the story over
and over again with a variety of outcomes. When I ended the story with Jack coming home to find his mother gone, the patient began correcting my improvisation of the story, and from that I was able to piece together a mental picture of the nightmare he'd been living with before he was found.”

Meical took her hand and held it. “I take it his giant was worse than the one in the fairy tale.”

“I'll say. He turned out to be the boy's father, in fact. And I think…he had Jack's mother killed, and somehow Jack found out about it.”

Meical sighed and swore under his breath.

“Jack blamed himself for not being able to protect her.”

“You took your suspicions to the police, didn't you? And that's why Jack's evil giant came after you.”

Tears burned Caroline's eyes and she wiped them away with her sleeve. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. This closeness to another human filled her being until all she wanted was to sit there and soak it up.

“I cashed in everything I had and hired a P.I. to investigate. She managed to uncover evidence of his ties to a local drug dealer who had been indicted a month before. The police didn't get him for murdering his wife, but at least they got him. He went to prison, and I thought everything was going to be all right.”

“Until he sent his men after you.”

And she had dreaded nightfall ever since. But Meical—and the dreams—had made her feel safe and whole again. Even now, she wanted to curl up closer
to him and stay there, even though he couldn't really protect her from the nighttime, and she couldn't protect him from Burke.

He kissed the top of her head. His voice was soft and low and deep, as though he were talking to a child. “Dr. Calvin told me that someone saved you that night. Do you remember anything about that?”

“It was probably a hallucination. I'm not even sure if I was conscious.”

It could have been a shadow on the wall, and the red hazy light she'd seen was probably a result of her concussion. Caroline clenched her hands together in her lap. “The P.I. I hired, the policemen who were sent to guard my house—even my mentor—they were murdered.”

“That was to make you feel powerless.”

“It worked. I had to draw the line when my…when someone I loved began to get death threats. I accepted an invitation from a colleague to live with her for a while and see if we could help me overcome my trauma and get my physical strength back.”

Meical pulled the coverlet off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her. “You couldn't be sure of your ability to survive until you got yourself under control.”

“Exactly. When nothing my therapist tried seemed to work, I decided the best thing to do was to go back to the place it had happened and just…face it.” She closed her eyes, hating the feeling of defeat. It rode her hard, every moment of every day. “I threw up before I got as far as the front steps.”

“The only thing that matters is that you're still alive.”

“Only because I've stayed one step ahead of the man who's after me. He's a professional. He takes his job personally. It's like matching wits with a psychopath every day of your life.”

Meical ran a finger over her cheek, and when she looked up to meet his gaze, he murmured, “If he catches up with you here, your sweet face will be the last thing he sees in this world.”

She smiled up at him. “Who's going to protect
you?
”

He grinned. “You really don't have to worry about that.”

Caroline rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes again. The protectiveness she sensed inside him made her feel that her life and safety were sacrosanct to someone besides herself.

“Caroline, I know it wasn't easy to trust me with this. I want to give you something in return.”

She turned her face up to Meical's and looked right into his eyes. They smoldered now, as intense as they'd been in the dream last night. Her face flushed hot with the memory of the pleasure he'd given her, and the memory ignited her need. Just like magic. Meical's magic. Her gaze fell to his mouth, so close to hers.

His voice burned through her like a fire. “I don't want you to ever be afraid of anything again.”

She felt it happening, felt the surge of his energy wrap around her shield like a wall of fire and granite. Caroline drew back. “What are you doing? Stop that.”

He drew her closer, gentle but inescapable, and pressed deeper into her being. She felt all her walls dissolve, leaving behind only a trickle of its fragile energy.

Meical soaked it up, mingled it with his own, and before her inner eyes, rebuilt her shield for her. The barrier that surrounded her now was more powerful than any she could ever have created.

“That,” he whispered, “is a proper shield.”

“I
know what it is you've come here for. You want information about the Ancient who's hunting the Alchemist.”

Talisen suppressed a shiver over Freya's choice of words. Neshi was so often the hunter; it was scary to think there was someone powerful enough to turn him into one of the hunted.

“That's right,” she answered. “We need to know who he is and what his connection is to Neshi.”

“We need your help to find Meical,” added Ellory, “and we need it now.”

The raven-haired queen, as smooth-faced as a girl, leaned back in her desk chair and regarded Ellory with mild annoyance.

“Badru is more powerful than any other Ancient I
have encountered. His business with Neshi predates my own. And since Neshi's end is what I desire above all else, I will be glad to see Badru succeed where others have failed. But of this I am certain: There is a strong bond between them.”

“A bond?” Ellory murmured. “Is Neshi bound to Badru?”

“Whatever the nature of their connection, it's as old as they are. It runs deep. All that interests me is that Badru has sworn to find Neshi and spare him nothing. So, before you ask me to hinder his efforts, spare us all.”

Ellory curled his fingers around the arm of his chair until the wood made splintering sounds. Freya gave him a chiding smile. She looked almost maternal—for which Talisen was grateful. Ellory's show of temper did not bode well for him.

“These are grave times we find ourselves in,” said Freya. “Let us be mindful of the fact that if he wished, Badru could take the entirety of this demesne from me with a curl of his fist. Until he moves on, we must avoid provoking him.”

“Did you sanction this kill?” demanded Ellory.

Freya arched a brow at him. “You know well, that's a standing order with me.”

“Do you realize Badru plans to destroy Meical, too? He'll be deemed guilty by association because of whatever Neshi has done to him. So, in sanctioning Neshi's destruction, you've sanctioned Meical's as well. He is your subject, Freya, your own sister's creation, to whom you swore your protection.”

Sorrow shone in the vampire queen's sapphire eyes. “That is…unfortunate.”

“
Unfortunate?
Freya, you're oath-bound to protect Meical. You can't hold yourself above honor. Meical has a right to your mercy. As his queen, if not as his creator's very kin, you owe him rescue and asylum.”

Freya pushed herself up from her chair and nearly floated across her sitting room. Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “You understand better than anyone that our turning is not always a matter of choice. So it was with me, when Neshi turned me long ago.”

“That doesn't take away from the fact,” Talisen argued, “that Neshi saved us all from Dylan, and if not for him, you wouldn't be here.”

The queen's gaze lit upon her, red-hot for a moment, and in the next, icy with old hatred. “His merciful gesture was but salt in an old wound. I have never minced words with him. He knows I will waste no opportunity to rid our world of him. If Badru can do this, I will deny him nothing, and neither will any of those in my demesne. I will spare no one who fails to yield to my decision on this.”

Ellory rose slowly, drawing Talisen from her chair with a gentle tug on her hand. He fixed a hot gaze on Freya, and even though his tone was respectful, Talisen felt territorial rage eating through his composure like acid. “I won't stand by and watch my best friend be destroyed by that Cupid-faced leech. We'll find Meical without your help.”

 

“Stop coddling her, you stupid nit.” Neshi strode out of a dark corner of Meical's cabin. “You've been feeding her psychological dribble for a week. You have
her eating out of your hand. Why do you hesitate to take it further than that?”

Meical turned his back on his creator and stared out his open front door at the night beyond his cabin. “It's my business how I spend my time with her. Our sessions make her feel like she's not wasting her gifts. It pleases her. Where's the harm?”

“How long do you think you can keep up this charade in her dreams? You lose half the strength you gain trying to maintain the illusion. Make it real to her, Grabian. She must come to accept you in her waking hours.”

He eyed the moon and breathed in the fragrances of the night. They called to his deepest impulses. He could hardly wait for Caroline to fall asleep. She shared herself with him more generously each night, and in return, he made her dreamscape more lavish than the night before.

But Neshi was right. As long as he spent his energy fueling Caroline's dreams, he would never obtain his full power. But her trust was too precious to risk, even for the sake of the truth.

Tonight he'd take her dancing at a ball. Dancing—yes, that was something no one else could give back to her. He'd populate the ballroom with every fictional character she loved and see that they swarmed around her, eager to bask in her company and answer her questions about their make-believe lives. Caroline would be happy in the midst of her imaginings tonight.

He cast a glance over his shoulder at Neshi. “As long as I have time to take it easy on her, I'm not going to rush her.”

The vampire sat down and propped his booted feet on the table. “But do you have time? You know as well as I do, you aren't stable yet. Far from it. You're still in transition.”

No sense in trying to lie. Last night he'd left Caroline completely spent, but he…he had scarcely begun to feed. He'd hardly been able to get through their therapy session today without kissing her.

He closed his eyes and flung his senses in her direction. He saw her in his mind. She looked so soft and sweet in the baby blue flannel shirt she was wearing tonight. Just that shirt and nothing else beneath…

“Can you tell me how you're managing,” the vampire prodded, “or must I see for myself?”

Meical said in the most casual voice he could manage with the ache in his groin, “The vampiric symptoms come and go. Mostly I'm a little sensitive to the sunlight, a bit sleepy at midday, and…I can't seem to…”

“Spit it out, Grabian.”

He turned and eyed Neshi, then the floor, then the ceiling, then Neshi again. “I can't get enough of her.”

Neshi smiled slowly. “And this is a problem?”

Meical rolled his eyes. “There are limits to what she can handle—or did you take that into account when you turned me into a stag in rut?”

“So, expand your menu.”

Meical turned away again and leaned in the doorway. “No.”

“When you were a vampire, weren't there nights when your hunger necessitated feeding on more than one human?”

“She's different from other prey.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Neshi's deep preternatural laughter echoed around the cabin. “By Ra, boy, you've fallen in love with her.”

Meical scowled. “What do you know of love, you blood-sucking carcass?”

“After three millennia, more than you can comprehend. Tell me about your sensitivity to the sun.”

“I'm more comfortable in the shade. The sun hurts my eyes.”

“Does your flesh burn?”

“Do I look like I'm going up in flames?”

“Stop dodging my questions. Does the sun cause you pain?”

Meical hesitated. “A little.”

“Well, if a ‘little' becomes a lot, you must tell me. What about human food? Any problems there?”

Meical sat down at the table and shrugged. “It doesn't agree with me as well as it did at first. Today I…”

“Couldn't keep it down. Is that it?”

Meical nodded. He hadn't been able to tolerate anything in his stomach, and yet he'd been hungrier than ever. For Caroline.

Neshi rapped his knuckles on the table, his face inscrutable as he regarded Meical. Abruptly he rose and came around to Meical's side of the table. Before Meical could protest, the vampire wrapped him in a compulsion so deep he scarcely remembered to breathe.

He heard Neshi's voice as though it came from the
depths of the sea. “You're craving blood. Why didn't you tell me?”

Meical opened his mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come. His heart began to pound hard, and the ache in his loins throbbed until he groaned. His body, his very soul, told him that Caroline was now asleep. “It's time for me to go to her.”

“Answer my question. Is it getting harder for you to resist drinking from her?”

Meical sighed. “I wanted to drink from her last night.”

The vampire snapped his fingers in Meical's face, and his awareness returned to him fully. “Listen to me, Grabian, and listen carefully. If you drink blood before you get through your transition, you'll revert to vampirism and be dead in twenty-four hours.”

Meical stared up at Neshi, half in denial, half in disbelief. “Are you saying this process you've put me through is
that fragile?
”

“Only during this time of transition.” Neshi's gaze shifted away from his. “Among my past subjects, those who reverted to drinking blood before they got through their transition went mad. They were raving animals. I couldn't have that. So I altered my formula and incantations to be sure no subject survived to cause trouble if they reverted to vampirism. If you can get through this difficult time, you'll become a full incubus and blood will no longer tempt you.”

Meical ran his tongue over the roof of his parched mouth. Even now the thirst burned in his veins just as it had when he was a vampire. He had known moments,
while loving Caroline, when he was half-mad with his hunger for her pleasure and his thirst for her blood. How could he resist it? How could he survive it?

How could she?

“Neshi,” he murmured, “if something goes wrong, you can rectify it, can't you? That is, if I make a mistake…”

Neshi's black-brown eyes glinted with impatience. “There may come a moment when I can't help you. You're not the only one for whom time is running out. I suggest you do your best to survive, Meical.”

Never had Neshi used his given name. Meical studied his creator's face, made an attempt to penetrate the shield with which Neshi hid his emotions, but it was futile.

A pull on his very soul drew his focus away from all but Caroline. It was a sweet pain he'd grown accustomed to when she fell asleep every night. She had just entered the REM state. She was ripe for dreaming.

His hunger spurred him, and he shot to his feet and pushed past Neshi. “Got to go.”

The door slammed in his face before he reached it. He spun around to face Neshi, ready to tear the vampire apart.

The Alchemist lifted a warning finger. “You've come far. You have only a little way to go before you're fully changed. Don't ruin it for yourself. Use all the willpower you can. Don't drink from her. Do whatever you must to keep from doing so. The only balm for your blood thirst is her loving. It will soothe you through this time, if you will bring it into the light of day so that you can
nourish yourself more completely. That is your one hope of survival.”

The ire drained out of Meical, leaving only resignation to the weary vigil over his hunger. “I'm not sure of my control.”

Neshi's expression softened with the first sign of sympathy Meical had ever seen in him. “Incubi are not creatures of restraint. Their appetites are inexhaustible. And yet you are by nature a giver now, not a taker. You're no longer a source of harm to her but pleasure. Remember that.”

 

Olek stepped into his dark house and flipped on the hall light. Twelve years worth of Caroline's school pictures smiled back at him from the wall. Those were the days when all he'd had to do to make her feel safe was hold her in his lap. And what he couldn't fix, her mother could.

Even after losing Midge, he and Caroline had done all right together. Her problems had seemed so small and easy then…

“A very bright and beautiful girl, your daughter.”

Olek's breath deserted him as a man in a ski mask came out of the dark of the living room. He spun on his heels and fumbled with the doorknob. He tried to elbow the intruder, but the guy slammed him against the door and held him there.

Olek managed to catch his breath enough to spit out, “I'm not telling you where she is. You may as well kill me now.”

He felt his opponent's gloved hand rip his sleeve.
The man's breath smelled like mint. “That won't be necessary, and that's fortunate for both of us, because I dislike unnecessary violence. It always causes me problems in the long run.”

The odor of alcohol reached Olek's nostrils, followed by the icy swab of a drenched cotton ball along the inside of his trapped arm. “It doesn't matter what you do to me. I'm not going to tell you anything.”

“I'm not even going to ask. You see, I already have a pretty good idea where Caroline is. But I want to make it as painless as possible for her. She'll put up a lot less resistance if she knows I have you, Mr. Olek.”

There was the sting of the needle, and then the whole world went fuzzy.
Caroline.

Burke bent close and whispered, “I give you my word, Mr. Olek. I'll make it a clean kill.”

 

“I can't believe it.”

Caroline laughed and shook her head as she surveyed the occupants of the ballroom. She and Meical had just entered, having been announced like royalty. They'd arrived by carriage, drawn by four perfectly matched black horses.

This was only a dream, all of it, but the reality and detail of it kept superimposing themselves on her senses. She seemed to be here, really and truly, in an imagined eighteenth-century gala of her own device, under the same roof with Jane Austen's heroes and heroines, their families, friends and foes. It was as though her unconscious mind had dumped them sprawling out of the pages of each book she hoarded on her bookshelves.