The Merzetti Effect (A Vampire Romance) (22 page)

“That,” he said, “is what Eli is for.”

She’d been about to tell him she tried Eli first, but drew back. If that was his attitude, forget about it. It wasn’t Eli’s fault she was in this Godforsaken situation. Why should he be the one who had to hold her hand?

“
That’s what Eli’s for?
” She laughed harshly. “You make it sound like that’s in his job description.”

He shoved a hand through his hair again and glanced around the room. “I have to get dressed.”

But Ainsley wasn’t listening. She was putting two and two together and coming up with a disturbing answer.

“Omigod, that
is
in his job description, isn’t it?”

He pushed past her to pick up a robe he’d left lying on the wingback chair. “Eli doesn’t have a job description.”

Her mind jumped back to that first night at Delano’s house in St. Cloud, after the attack, when Eli nursed her. She’d asked him what else he did for Delano. His answer echoed in her head now.

Whatever he asks me to.

She rounded on Delano. “Oh, this just gets better and better, doesn’t it? That’s why he took me out for that romantic little carriage ride through Old Montreal.”

“I wouldn’t know about any carriage ride.” He pulled the robe on and tied the sash with what seemed like excessive force.

“Well, doesn’t that beat all? I’ve been squired around town by a paid escort. I think I can safely say that’s an all-time low.”

“Ainsley, would you please‌—”

“Please
what?
” She gathered the sheet tighter. “Please stop griping about little details, like how you paid someone to pay male attention to me? For pity’s sake, Delano, you could have just told me you didn’t want me that way.”

“No. No, dammit, I couldn’t.” He grabbed her wrist in a painful clasp and dragged her close enough to see the turmoil in his eyes. Then he released her just as abruptly and turned away. “I couldn’t.”

She blinked at his silk-clad back. “Oh.”

“Yes,
oh
,” he said, his voice tight. “God, Ainsley, the night in the lab when Eli interrupted us… I knew I couldn’t take the chance that we’d get carried away like that again. Your blood…” The muscles of his shoulders bunched beneath the silk of his robe. “To be so close, so intimate, and not take your blood … I just couldn’t trust myself.”

“But you couldn’t tell me this, because then you’d have to explain why we couldn’t scratch the itch. And you knew I desperately wanted you to take my blood.” She twisted the knotted sheet at her breast. “Well, okay, I also wanted wild sex.”

“Yes.” He ground the word out through gritted teeth.

“
Shit
.” She massaged her forehead and sighed. “This doesn’t make it okay, you know.”

“Believe me, I know. Nothing about this is okay.”

Nothing? “I don’t know about that. I kinda liked the sex part.”

His back did the bunched-muscle thing again. “That can’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” He turned to face her. “Because it might kill one of us.”

She paled. “Are you saying what we did just now … there could be lethal consequences?”

He shook his head. “Highly unlikely.”

“But not out of the question?”

“Nothing is out of the question, since we know so little about how this works.”

Her heart stumbled. “I thought you said the only way I could be infected was if you … I mean, if the vampire in question were to bite my jugular vein and infuse his own blood.”

“Correct.”

“So the fact that you…”

He arched an eyebrow. “Ejaculated inside you?”

Ridiculously, she blushed. “That doesn’t pose a risk of infection?”

“No. Nor of pregnancy.”

His tone rang with a certainty that reassured. Then it clicked. “So, I’m not at risk, but you’re not so sure about the other way around?”

“We know so little. I mean, we have a fair idea what happens when your blood is infused directly into the venous system, but the rest…” He shrugged. “We have centuries of experience that says the vampirism virus is not sexually transmitted, but no such data on the Merzetti Effect.”

“So my crawling into bed with you…” She swallowed. “What we did … what I let you do … it might kill you?”

“Very unlikely.”

“But not impossible?”

“Nothing’s impossible.”

Her vision narrowed alarmingly and her ears started to buzz.
Tinnitus. Vision disturbance. Anxiety.
Jesus, she had to calm down before she stroked out.

His voice cut through her panic.

“…even in the unlikely event of transmission, who’s to say it would harm me? Maybe it would effect a reversal of my mutation?”

Reversal? “Omigod, you’re going to have to type and crossmatch your meals for the next while, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe I let this happen.

“It’s not your fault. Once you knew you carried the Merzetti blood, I should have been explicit about the risks of intimate contact.”

She blinked. “I should have figured it out myself. Dammit, I’m a nurse! But any thought I did give to it was about my safety, and you’d said I couldn’t be infected… Oh, hell, I just didn’t think.”

To her dismay, she burst into tears.

G
OD HELP HIM
, tears. Delano suppressed a groan.

“I need to find my clothes. I’ll get dressed and get out of your way.”

“Ainsley, come here.”

She dashed tears from her cheeks as she continued to search among the strewn bedclothes for her nightwear. “Dammit, where are they?”

Whatever the circumstances, she’d just given him the incredible gift of her body, her passion, herself. At the memory, the blood lust clawed at his insides again, hot and urgent and vision-dimming. He forced it down.

“I said come here.” He took her hand and tugged her to his side. She held her body stiffly away from him, but he exerted enough force to pull her into his arms. For a fleeting moment, she continued to resist. Then she leaned into him, her arms going around him in a fierce grip. It made his heart threaten to crack right open.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he said.

She sniffled against his chest. Something told him his silk robe was never going to be the same, but he couldn’t care less. Unable to do anything else, he ran his hands over her back soothingly.

“I’m sorry, too,” she mumbled into his chest. “I can’t believe I put you at risk. I just didn’t think.”

“Just so you know, Ainsley, I wasn’t the only one at risk.”

She leaned back in his arms. “But you said I couldn’t become … I don’t understand.”

“I’m not talking about infection, which I assure you is out of the question.”

“Then what?”

“If I’d taken your blood, I might not have stopped in time.”

“What do you mean, in time?”

Her face was wet, her nose was red, and she looked perfectly lovely. He guided her over to the edge of the bed and urged her down on it, then sat down beside her.

“I’ve been celibate a long time.”

“Me, too.”

He laughed.

“What? It’s true. Which you must know, from your very thorough investigation.”

“Not as long as me.”

She lifted a corner of the sheet she was wearing and dabbed at the wetness on her cheeks. “How long are we talking?”

“Let’s just say transfusion medicine was not what it is today the last time I lay with a woman.”

“Omigod. That’s a long time.”

“Indeed.”

“Any particular reason you’ve tied that event to transfusion medicine?”

“You’re very astute.”

“What happened?”

“It had been a long time. Many years, in fact. I lost control, took far too much blood.” He looked down at the carpet. “There was no saving her with the medical science available to me at the time.”

“She died?”

He glanced sideways at her. She’d gone very still.
There but for the grace of God go I
. He could practically hear the thought. And she was right to think it. He returned his attention to the carpet, where he noticed a long blond hair lodged in the fibers. He resisted the urge to bend and pick it up.

“Delano?”

“She would have died, had I not turned her.”

“Oh, Del. You made her into a vampire?”

“Yes. The one thing I swore I’d never do to another human being. But what choice did I have? It was that or leave her to die. I didn’t even know if it would work, but it was the only way I knew to replace some of the blood she lost. And I knew the healing properties of the vampiric blood would take root quickly, if I could keep her alive long enough.”

“It worked?”

“Spectacularly.” He shot to his feet. “So, now you know.”

Her hand darted out to grab his arm. “Hold it. You said you’d answer all my questions, fully and honestly.”

“I can’t imagine what more you’d want to know about that.”

She arched a brow. “Can’t you?”

He scowled. Dammit, it was times like this he’d trade a decade‌—‌hell, a century‌—‌to be able to throw back a shot of bourbon and feel it hit his stomach like a fireball, soothing his nerves.

“So, why did it work spectacularly?”

“It takes only a very small amount of blood to do the job. Rule of thumb, 15 ccs will do it. Any more than 25 ccs, you’re asking for trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The more blood you use, the more powerful the vampire you create will be. And the problem with creating a vampire more powerful than you is that often their first act is to destroy their maker.”

“Was she very powerful?”

“More so than any vampire I’d ever seen, before or since.”

“Did she try to destroy you?”

“No.”

She held his gaze. “But you wished she would have?”

His throat ached, and it had nothing to do with the thirst that was eating him from the inside out. “Yes.”

Her eyes softened. “Did you love her?”

He considered telling her it was none of her business. His promise to answer all questions surely could not be stretched to include this. But somehow, he felt compelled to tell her. Why that should be, he didn’t care to contemplate

So he thought about Reina instead.

“Love her?” He sat back down beside her again on the edge of the bed. “She was intense and sensual and generous and very lovely, but no, I can’t say I loved her. Not in the way you mean. But after that, we were … connected.”

“A blood bond.”

“Well, a bond of sorts, yes.”

“Did she love you?”

“Again, not like you mean. She might have thought so once, but she quickly learned she no longer wanted me. That’s the fate of all vampires‌—‌relegated to the dark, lusting only after creatures of the light.”

“And where is she now? Do you still see her?”

“She’s dead.”

At his flat pronouncement, her lips parted on a gasp. “But you said she was very powerful. How … I mean, what happened?”

His gaze rested on her flushed face. No, not flushed. Abraded by his beard stubble. Whisker burned. He looked away.

“Power is no protection from depression. For some, the weight of the years becomes too much. There’s so much change to deal with, yet at the same time, everything remains the same. And so much loss. The years stretch out endlessly. For some, it’s beyond bearing.”

“She took her own life?”

He shrugged. “She stayed up to greet the sunrise.”

She shuddered and he knew she was thinking about what he’d told her. Acute solar uticaria, followed quickly by anaphylactic shock.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Did she enjoy her life as a vampire?”

He angled a look at her.

“Well, yeah, okay, she committed suicide, so she wasn’t too thrilled with it at the end. But what about before that? Did she hate it? Did she love it, but just got tired?”

Trust Ainsley to ask the hard questions. “She was ambivalent about it. She certainly didn’t abhor what she was. Had she not had a deep fascination with vampires in the first place, she would not have wound up in my bed. And she certainly enjoyed her newfound power. But she didn’t ask for it. She didn’t actively seek the transformation.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to be wholehearted about it if the choice is not freely made.”

“That sounds like personal experience talking.”

“Funny, I thought it sounded like the end of a sad tale.”

“Not quite. I have one more question in that vein before we move on.”

“No pun intended, I’m sure.”

She snorted. “Pure accident, I assure you.”

“Then probe away.”

“Oh, Gawd.” She rolled her eyes. “More phlebotomy humor.”

His gaze fell on her smiling mouth, still swollen from their kisses. Dear heaven, he wanted to kiss her again. And how stupid was that? He’d just laid out very plainly why they couldn’t go there again. Her face sobered, and he realized he was frowning fiercely. He forced his brow to smooth, his jaw to relax.

“Your question?”

“Her name … what was it?”

“You want to know her name? Ainsley, she’s been dead now for decades.”

“Yes, I want to know her name. You’ve been honoring her by telling me her story. Finish the job.”

“Reina. Her name was Reina.”

She took his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. Are we done here?”

“Almost. Just one more question.”

“Just one?”

“Okay, one more line of questioning.”

“Then make it quick. I get cranky if I miss a meal.”

She dropped his hand and jumped up. “Oh, shi … shoot. I forgot. This’ll wait.”

“Just sit down and ask your question, Ainsley. I’m not in any danger of expiring. In fact, I can go several days without sustenance before it really starts to take a toll on anything but my disposition.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” And a damned good thing, too, since he wasn’t going to be able to take blood for at least 48 hours. Ainsley presumed he could type and crossmatch his supper to avoid ABO incompatibility issues in the event the Merzetti Effect turned out to be sexually transmissible and triggered a reversal. Excellent reasoning. Except his mutation predated the pioneering work of Karl Landsteiner by almost a full century. Like all vampires, he was now effectively AB positive, the universal blood recipient, but God only knew what his original blood type was, pre-mutation.