Sire (7 page)

Michael whirled and slashed, driving his dagger into Ugly's descending arm, piercing it through. Ugly screamed and dropped his knife. Michael lunged and thrust his blade forward, stabbing Ugly through the heart. Ugly looked at him with uncomprehending eyes, then slid to the floor.

Caitlin stared at Michael with an open mouth.

Michael pulled his blades free, set them on the ground, then wiped his hands on Ugly's pant legs. He stood and walked toward Caitlin. His hands were spread wide, a calming gesture, but the effect was kind of lost since they were still spattered blood. And, you know, the chalk-white skin, blood-red eyes, and mouth full of fangs.

But as he knelt next to her, the color returned to his skin and his fangs melted away, and his eyes again became brilliant sapphires. "It's all right, Caitlin. You don't have to be afraid anymore." He gently moved her hands away from her leg. "God, what did he do to you?"

"It, it wasn't Liam," Caitlin said. "It was him." She nodded at Ugly with her chin.

"Well, that's convenient."

"What?"

"That he's already dead. It means I don't have to find him and kill him. It's such a pain in the ass trying to find a guy that knows you want to kill him." He studied her injury. "You're not going to be able to walk on that." He made a face. "Hell, I don't even know if the doctors could fix it, the wound is so ragged. Damn wolves."

Caitlin's heart sped up. "What do you mean, they won't be able to fix it? They have to fix it." Panic was creeping into her voice.

"It's all right. Here." Michael lifted his wrist to his mouth, and his fangs reappeared. He bit into his own flesh, which made a horrible noise, and held his arm out. "Drink. It'll heal you."

Caitlin wrinkled her nose and looked at his wrist dubiously. Dark red liquid leaked from a series of holes. "Quick, before it closes," he said.

Caitlin took his hand and licked it hesitantly. It had a metallic taste, but it didn't squick her out as much as she thought it would. Soon, she had her mouth pressed tight to his skin, and was drinking hungrily.

The blood poured into her mouth. It was cool, but it burned going down her throat. It felt like electricity was shooting through her body, and she was filled with sudden, irresistible need. She held tight onto his arm and drank greedily.

Michael pulled away gently. "Okay, that's enough." Caitlin made a noise of protest and grabbed for his hand, but Michael held her away. "Look," he said.

The wounds on her shoulder and leg were closing. The skin seemed to flow back together like water, and soon she was completely healed. There was no scar, and no pain. You couldn't tell where the blood on her clothing had come from.

Caitlin touched her leg gingerly, and flexed her calf muscle. Then she rolled her shoulder. Everything felt fine. Better than fine. She felt stronger than she had in, well, ever.

Michael was staring at her.

"You're a vampire?" she asked. He nodded.

For a while, Caitlin just stared at him. Then, finally, she spoke.

"Holy shit," she said. "That's awesome!"

***

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're a vampire," Caitlin said, climbing to her feet. "That's so cool! I mean, oh my God,
everyone
wants to meet a vampire, and I've met
two
of them in one night! One of them tried to kill me, but I mean, come on, I'm all right, and you, you're ... wow."

Caitlin was staring at his naked chest like she was trying to figure out which piece of him to eat first, and Michael suddenly wished he had a shirt to put on.

"You have to tell me everything," Caitlin said. "How old are you? How did you become a vampire? How many of you are there? Can you walk in the sunlight? What's with the swords? How do you know Liam? Are you two brothers?"

"Can we leave the evil vampire's evil lair first?" Michael asked.

"Oh, right, sure. So, how are we going to get out of here? Out the front door, or ...?"

"Let's go through the window. There's ... the rest of the house is kind of a mess."

"A mess? Why would that stop us?"

Michael gestured toward Ugly's corpse. "A mess. A really big mess."

"
Oh.
Okay, right, out the window then. I, um, I tried to climb down earlier, and I guess I kinda made it, but it isn't easy. We'll have to—"

"We're only twenty feet off the ground. I can jump from here."

"That's nice and all, but I can't, and—"

"I'll hold you, if you'll hold my blades."

"Oh, sure!"

Michael picked up the sword and dagger, and handed them to Caitlin. "Careful. The blades are laced with silver, and they'll burn me if I touch them."

"Okay, got it. Silver burns vampires. What about him?"

"He's a werewolf," Michael said. "Was."

"Yeah, I know. He turned into a wolf when I tried to escape."

"...And that doesn't, I don't know, bother you?"

Caitlin put her hands on her hips. "Michael, it is my first night at college. And in the last few hours, I have been hypnotized—"

"Compelled."

"—bitten, kidnapped by a vampire, escaped, recaptured, mauled, rescued by another vampire, and healed with vampire blood. A guy that turns into a dog is not the weirdest thing that's happened to me today."

Michael pursed his lips. "Good point."

He gathered Caitlin up into his arms. She held the silver blades carefully away from him, and snuggled close to his chest. "Okay," she said, "let's go."

Michael shook his head and crossed to the window. He pulled it open and stepped up onto the windowsill. "Ready?" Caitlin nodded, and Michael stepped out into the air.

Caitlin's heart leapt when they fell, but they touched the ground as lightly as a falling feather. Michael set her down and collected his blades. "This way," he said.

Caitlin hurried after him. "So really, about the sunlight? Can you go out in the sunlight?"

"No."

"Do you, you know?"

Without breaking stride, Michael looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"You know? In the sunlight, do you ... sparkle?"

Michael stopped. "Those God damn books." He shook his head and started walking again.

"Okay, so that's a 'no' on the sparkling. So, silver burns, and sunlight ... I'm guessing that burns, too?"

"Brilliant deduction."

"Okay, silver burns, sunlight burns. Fire?"

"Yes, fire also burns," he said.

"Okay, great. So, did you always look like this, or did you get hot when you became a vampire?"

Michael looked at her, exasperated, and kept walking.

They reached the wall at the edge of the estate. Michael handed his blades over to Caitlin, and took her into his arms again. He crouched and jumped, and they sailed over the old stone, landing gently in the grass on the other side.

His car was waiting for them. It was some kind of sports car, all curvy and black and gleaming. The thing looked like it was crouching, ready to spring forward at a moment's notice. The doors unlocked themselves as Michael walked toward it. Michael reclaimed his blades, and slid them into the back seat.

He crossed to the other side and opened the door, holding it for Caitlin. Caitlin paused just long enough to take another look at Michael's chest, then slipped inside.

Michael climbed into the driver's seat, and the car growled to life. He slammed it into gear and smashed the accelerator, and the car roared forward.

"Um, where are we going?" Caitlin asked.

"Home."

"Oh, okay. Um, I live on the campus, and—"

"
My
home."

"Oh.
Oh.
Okay then. Um, why?"

"Because I can't protect you if I'm not with you, and I'm not in the mood for Jell-O shots."

"Oh."

They drove for a few minutes before Caitlin spoke again. "Um, Michael? Can you turn the headlights on? I know you probably don't need them or anything, but you're kind of freaking me out."

Michael glanced over, then flicked the lights on. "Sorry," he said.

"So, you can see in the dark? How dark can it be before you can't see any more?"

Michael sighed.

***

"So really, were you always this pretty, or did you become pretty when they made you a vampire?"

Michael gave Caitlin another sideways glance, but really, she thought is was a fair question. Both of the vampires—
vampires
—that she had met so far were gorgeous, and the stories she had read weren't exactly consistent. Some of them made it sound like every vampire was a supermodel waiting to happen, and some of them had vampires with potbellies.

This kind of information was important.

"I'm different, but you'd still recognize me. The change kind of brings out your best features." He nodded his chin at her. "You'll probably notice your skin and hair are better for the next couple of weeks."

"So, like, the back of my legs. I have a really hard time toning the back of my legs. If I was a vampire ...?"

He looked at Caitlin's legs long enough to make her worry that he was going to drive off the road. "Your legs are fine," he said, a trace of a smile on his face. Then he turned his attention back to steering the car. "You don't need to die to improve them."

Caitlin was simultaneously happy at the compliment and miffed that he hadn't given her a direct answer. "What about your hair? Can you cut your hair?"

"No. Well I can, but it grows back the next time I eat. I've seen Angelica change her hair style, though, so there must be some trick to it that I don't know yet."

"Angelica was the girl who called you away from the club, right? Who is she?"

"She's ... complicated. She's the Regent of this area. Kind of like a queen, or a governor. This place, all of this, is hers."

"All of this? What do you mean?"

"St. Troy. All of it belongs to her. Some of it literally, she owns a ton of property. But this is her Regency, the area she governs, and there's no one strong enough to challenge her."

"How strong is she?"

"Strong enough to walk in the sunlight."

"Oh. What did she want with you?"

"Like I said, it's complicated. And we're home."

Michael pulled off the road and into a long, winding driveway. The wrought iron gate surrounding the house swung itself open as they approached. The driveway must have been a mile long, and the whole estate was surrounded by trees, just like Liam's.

"So I guess vampires like their privacy," Caitlin said.

"It makes things easier."

Then they were at the house itself. It was a sprawling Tudor style structure, made of old brick and iron and lead glass. The whole face of it was covered in windows, and Caitlin was surprised to see lights burning inside. The roof was made of slate, and there were a series of chimneys. It looked like something out of an old Gothic novel.

Michael glided to a stop beneath an attached car park. "Come on," he said, and led her inside.

The interior was just as impressive. The floor was shining hardwood, and the ceilings were nearly twenty feet high. Rich, thick rugs were spread around, and artwork, clearly old and clearly expensive, decorated the walls.

Something bumped against Caitlin's leg, and she jumped. Michael bent down and scooped up a white cat, and held it to his chest. "Hello, Gabriel. This is Caitlin." Michael scratched him behind the ears, and a small rumble filled Gabriel's throat ... and was soon answered with another, deeper rumble.

"Are you ... are you
purring
at your cat?" Caitlin asked.

"I like cats," Michael said. "They think like I do."

Michael led her further into the house. A butler, an actual butler, was waiting for them. He was an older man, probably in his fifties, mostly bald but with a few wisps of white on the sides of his head. He was wearing a perfectly pressed black tuxedo, and white gloves. "Master McKenna," he said. "Good to have you home, sir. Morning approaches, and I was beginning to fear for your safety." He looked Michael up and down with a disapproving eye. "And you appear to have developed a minor case of nudity. Sir."

"He knows?" Caitlin whispered.

"He has no idea," Michael whispered back. "I told him I have a phobia about the sun, and the blood drinking ... well, that was harder to explain, but that's why we choose dumb people for our help."

Caitlin stuck her tongue out at him.

"Will the lady be joining us for dinner?" the butler asked.

Michael raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm
starving
," Caitlin answered. Her stomach rumbled again, stirred to life by the thought of food.

"Our selection is rather limited," the butler said regretfully. "We don't stock human blood, but I can offer you some cattle blood, and I believe we have some more exotic animals stored in the cellar. Of course, any of our staff would be willing to donate—"

"She's human, William. Make her a grilled cheese or something."

The butler raised his eyebrow, which Caitlin thought was this guy's equivalent of throwing up his hands and shouting. "My apologies, madam. We so rarely have human guests. Our kitchen is stocked for the servants, however, or I could send someone out for food. Do you have anything particular in mind?"

"Oh, thanks William, but really anything is fine. I haven't eaten in forever. A sandwich would be
fantastic
right now."

"Very well, madam." He raised his eyebrow at Michael, who gestured him away. The butler turned on his heel and disappeared further into the house.

Michael looked down at his blood-spattered skin. "I need to clean up. What about you? Do you want to take a shower?"

Oh. Caitlin looked up and down Michael's body. At the strong chest, the chiseled abs, the pelvic muscles that disappeared into his jeans. She licked her lips. "I would love to," she said.

Michael cocked his head to the side. "There are ten bathrooms in this place. We don't have to share."

Embarrassed heat crawled up Caitlin's face. "Right, sorry. I mean, I knew that. Totally." She thought she saw just the hint of a smirk on Michael's face.

He led her up the staircase and to the second floor, and into one of the bedrooms. It was a huge room, bigger than their entire suite on campus, with a bed the size of a small city, windows you could fly a plane through, and an attached bathroom.