Anna Strong - The Becoming Part 24

The impudence of youth.

But I don't care either. I just want him to take me to Avery.

"We're on our way," he says with a grin.

When I'm seated in the back seat, he takes his place behind the wheel. As soon as he does, his thoughts are closed to me. I look around the car, see speakers, hear the gentle shushing sound. Avery has outfitted this car with his own personal security shield, too.

It's a relief, really. It means I don't have to be careful of my thoughts.

The driver turns to look back at me. "My name is Robert," he says. "And Dr. Avery told me to tell you to sit back and relax, enjoy the ride. There's chilled champagne in the refrigerator."

"Where are we going?"

Again the smile. "It's a surprise." Then he turns his attention to the front, pushes a b.u.t.ton that activates a privacy screen between us, and I'm left alone in the back seat with only my thoughts and a bottle of 1962 Dom Perignon for company.

The night is moonless, the air still. I watch through the windows as we head up the coast. In Del Mar, Robert turns onto a side street that winds up and away from the coastal highway and into the foothills. I lean back and sip champagne from a crystal flute, savoring the sweet excitement of the havoc I will wreak on Avery's world. The same havoc he has wrought on mine. The vision of his house in flames warms me and sustains my resolve.

But I have to temper all that out of my subconscious now. I have to turn on a different kind of flame. He has to think I'm coming to him in love, ready now to accept the life he offers. And in reality, it's not that difficult to flip that switch. After all, the pa.s.sion that ignites whenever we're together burns as fiercely as the hatred inside me.

The car slows and stops in front of the gated entrance to a private club-or at least that's what the sign posted beside the guard shack says. A man in a uniform pokes his head out of the booth and nods at Robert. The gate slides open. I put the gla.s.s down and watch to see what Avery has prepared.

It's very much as I imagined.

There are luminarios lining a driveway that leads to a rambling, pillared Colonial mansion. The house floats in the night like a pale ghost ship. There is no artificial light. Only candles flickering from every window. It's a fairy-tale setting.

Robert pulls to a stop and a liveried servant comes down the stairs to open my car door. Without a word, he steps aside as I climb out, then pa.s.ses me to get to the landing and swing open the front door. I expect Avery to be waiting inside, but the only thing that greets me is soft string music floating in from open French doors just ahead. I look around but the servant is gone. I guess I'm supposed to find my own way from here.

The doors open to a rose garden, the perfume fills the air. Still, there's no one waiting here, either, so I follow a path of flaming torches to a wide deck. It's a pool deck, the shimmering water stretching to meet the horizon in an unbroken sweep. There's a table set for two But still no Avery.

I approach the table, pour myself a gla.s.s of champagne-the second this evening. But this will be my last. I need to have my wits about me.

But why?

The question floats across the still night air from the far end of the pool. I turn to watch Avery as he appears at the door of a cabana and starts toward me. He has a silver vase filled with red roses in his hands.

Tonight is the perfect night to lose yourself in the moment. No thinking, no inhibitions, no "wit" required. This evening is for you.

He comes closer, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight like the flames of the candles floating in the pool. He sets the vase on the table.

I meant to have these on the table when you arrived.He holds out a finger, a drop of blood glistening in the candlelight.But I p.r.i.c.ked my finger on a thorn and I can't seem to get the bleeding to stop.

I put the champagne flute down on the table and take his hand in both of my own. I raise the finger to my lips and gently suck at the wound, letting my tongue work at the cut until I feel the skin close, much the way he did with my injured leg. Much the way I did earlier with David. I keep my mind carefully closed.

When I look up at Avery, he has his eyes shut and he's swaying a little-whether to the seductive sounds of the music swelling around us or to the feel of my tongue on his skin, I can't tell. He pulls himself back when he feels my eyes on him. His smile is slow and sweet."You are an apt pupil," he says. "If I'm not careful, you will learn all my secrets and you will no longer need me."

I meet his eyes with my own. "I think there are still a few secrets you are keeping from me, aren't there?"

He takes a step back, but instead of answering, he focuses on the dress and me. "Beautiful. I knew it was perfect for you the moment I saw it. You are a vision, Anna."

He's all dressed up himself, in a well-cut black tuxedo. He's not wearing a tie, though, and the neck of his white silk shirt is open.

The better to get right down to business.

He laughs at what I'm thinking.Why not? We are long past the vagaries of precoital game playing, wouldn't you agree?

I guess the honeymoon is over.

"Far from it." Avery speaks the words aloud as he dips a hand into a pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small, velvet box. "The honeymoon will never be over for us."

He holds out the box to me, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. His eyes are serious, though, as he watches me accept the box and open it.

There's a ring inside, platinum, set with a diamond solitaire that would take any living woman's breath away. I know because it elicits a gasp from me, not an easy thing when you're undead.

He's caught me completely by surprise. I expected seduction. I expected a display of the good life vampire style. What I didn't expect was a proposal.

If that's what this is.

I look up at him, letting the confusion filter through.

He laughs. "I've rendered you speechless. A first, I think."

I hand the box back to him. "It's a beautiful ring. I can't accept it."

But he refuses to take it, pushing it back towards me. "You misunderstand. I'm not proposing. Not yet, anyway. I know it's too soon for you. But I want you to have the ring as a thank you."

A thank you? For what?

He turns away to pour himself a gla.s.s of champagne and to retrieve my gla.s.s from the edge of the table. As he hands mine back to me, he lifts his gla.s.s in a toast, his eyes bright. "To Anna. Who has brought me back from the dead. Literally. For that, no mere thank you would be sufficient."

He takes a sip and waits for me to do the same. I study him over the rim of the gla.s.s. He really believes he's in love with me. More importantly, he believes I love him, too. He believes he's won.

Suddenly it snaps into sharp focus.

Everything that has happened to me. The fire, Williams, the Revengers. Avery is behind it all.

But why?

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

My heart is beating too quickly, drumming too loudly in my chest. Avery can pick up on a thing like that. I have to calm myself, literally slow the mad rush of my blood through my veins. He mustn't know what I suspect.

How do I get the story from him? My first impulse, to rip into him, doesn't seem so practical now. He has been a vampire for three hundred years, while I, less than a week. What worked with Williams might not work with him. My strength comes from our union, Avery's and mine. Am I ready to test who is the stronger?

I watch Avery.

He's busying himself with the roses, arranging them just so in the vase. He wants everything to be perfect tonight. He's pleased with himself, confident that he has won me, satisfied that his life is exactly as he wishes it to be. He is not trying to hide any of this from me, nor is he prying into my thoughts. He is too full of self-congratulations to bother.

I move toward him, placing my gla.s.s at the table's edge. I thrust the ring box into his hand.

He takes it and raises his eyes.You have questions for me, Anna? I sense your heart is troubled. Tell me what's wrong.

He is being simple, direct. Let's see if he will be honest. I'll start with something he might not find threatening.

Tell me about Dena.

Avery raises an eyebrow.My housekeeper?

I met her today. She has marks on her neck. You have fed from her.

He nods.Of course I have. She offered herself. Many mortals do, you know. They think it's exciting.

You didn't hide the marks.

She didn't want me to. It's a symbol. Remember when I told you about how it could be with Max? Well, the pleasure is addicting to some and one host may not be enough.

So you had s.e.x with her, too?

He shrugs.Before you came into my life. I haven't touched her that way since.

But you've taken her blood since, haven't you?

The blood was a condition of employment, the s.e.x a perk.

That you could withdraw at any time. Did she know that? Maybe that's why she was so frightened of me. She thought I might force myself on her, feed from her, the way you did.

Avery shakes his head, an impatient little frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.Force myself on her? I don't see it that way.

She came to me of her own free will. I helped her and in turn, she helped me. She can leave my employ at any time. I don't know why she acted frightened around you. Perhaps you should ask her the next time you see her.

His cavalier dismissal of his housekeeper's distress triggers a spark of anger in me.I will ask her, Avery.

The frown deepens. He speaks aloud, his voice heavy with disapproval. "Why do you persist in involving yourself with mortals? Why do you care what they want or don't want? I have tried to show you again and again that you are above all that now."

I believe that is true, Avery.

He peers at me, sudden distrust sparking in the depths of his eyes. "What are you hiding from me, Anna? What dark suspicions are you harboring? Tell me before you irreparably damage our evening."

"Will you be honest with me?"

"Haven't I always been honest?"

"No. You haven't."

He lets nothing project, no denial, no question. He simply nods his head and says, "Go on then."

I move to the other side of the table. If this is to be the showdown, I want something solid between us. "Let's start with the night of your party. You alerted the Revengers that I was coming."

"Is that a question?"

"No. The question is why? To see if I could get away? Was it some kind of performance test?"

He smiles. "If it was, you pa.s.sed, didn't you? You got away."

"And came straight back to you. Was that the idea? Was that the reason you had my house burned down, too? To a.s.sure I would be dependent on you?"

He doesn't respond, his mind as blank and impenetrable as his expression.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. The bond between us had already been forged. My home was special to me. My grandparents raised my mother there. Now I have nothing left of that life. It was a stupid, pointless, hurtful thing to do."

Avery stirs a little, eyes flashing in the candlelight, but still, he says nothing, lets no emotion filter into his thoughts.

It's disconcerting, but I've come this far. I may as well press on.

"Then there's Donaldson andBeso de la Muerte . A very good distraction. It's taken me awhile to figure that one out, but I think I have it now. You killed him, didn't you? And you wounded me in order to slow me down so you could get home before I did. I think you planned to kill himbefore I found out he knew nothing about David or the fire, but you weren't quite quick enough. Still, there must be something else about Donaldson that you didn't want me to know. Like maybe, your connection to him? He hardly seemed the type to seek out vampires. He had a family that, judging from the pictures I found at the cave, he still cared about. Yet, he became a vampire, and you called him a rogue. How does that happen? Was he your rogue?"

This time, Avery allows himself a smile. "You are a wonder, Anna, do you know that?" He sips delicately at the gla.s.s in his hand, his eyes locked with mine. "If I'd had any idea how smart you are, or how intuitive, I might just have killed you in the hospital.

Perhaps I should have."

"Your mistake, I agree. Will you answer my question?"

He blows out an impatient sigh. "I turned Donaldson. He was a fussy, irritating little man who happened to stumble on an impropriety in one of the hospital accounts. He was doing an audit for his company. He made the mistake of coming to me about it.

I convinced him he had more to gain by looking the other way. When he objected, I set up the bookkeeping discrepancy in his own firm. I showed him how easy it was for one with computer savvy to set up such things. When his boss found out about it, Donaldson came over to my side very quickly. He didn't want to go to jail. I gave him immortality and the hospital problem disappeared. He was supposed to leave the country right away. How was I to know he had such a dark nature? It happens sometimes. He found he liked the killing. He left his family to protect them, the last decent thing he did."He's still smiling at me, but there's no warmth now. He's watching me the same way a cat might watch a mouse, and he waits for my next move with the same placid feline patience. He's not the least bit afraid.

I rest the palms of my hands on the table and lean forward to continue.

"And what about Williams, what he said to me and what happened after? It wasn't me he needed to hide from, was it? He was afraid of you and what you might do when you found out what he told me. He was afraid of your power. Not mine. He retreated because he thought you and I were in league and that somehow threatened him. I still don't understand it."

I look into Avery's dark eyes. "But you aren't going to explain it, are you?"

Surprisingly, he responds. "You would not understand it-the balance of power between old-soul vampires in a community. I think perhaps now you never will."

"That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

A long moment pa.s.ses. I have to fight back anger and frustration and regain my composure before I broach the subject most important to me-David.

His sharp eyes detect a shift in my expression, his mind probes into my subconscious. "You are very good about hiding your thoughts from me, Anna," he says softly. "But there is something more you want from me."

He's turned his back to me, champagne gla.s.s in one hand, the velvet ring box in the other, staring out at the horizon. His shoulders slump a little and he adds, "I'm sorry it's come to this. I had such hopes for us." He fingers the box. "The stone in this ring belonged to my mother. In the past, it's been worn by women, mortal women, good women. When I met you, though, I knew you were the last one destined to wear it. For all eternity."

He slips the box back into his jacket pocket. "But you can't let go. I read it in your heart. Your home. Your friends. Even when I strip them away, you refuse to let go."