Dark Changeling Part 21

He tensed again when she fondled his genitals. He reminded himself that she wouldn't find anything shocking or abnormal; his anatomy was human there, even if his responses weren't, quite. "Interesting," she murmured. "But you said you didn't-"

"The fact that I don't focus on genital s.e.xuality," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady, "doesn't mean I feel no sensation there.

Thirst makes my entire body sensitive. A network of capillaries doesn't recognize fine discriminations." He guided Britt's free hand to his chest, letting her skim over the taut nipples.

Hers, too, were fully erect. Her aura showed darker pools of heat at b.r.e.a.s.t.s and groin. The intoxicating scent of her arousal made him lightheaded. In her warm handclasp he felt himself hardening. "You're still-thirsty?" she said. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

He captured her caressing hand, hoping for a distraction from his mounting excitement. A mistake-with the ball of her thumb she sketched spirals on his palm. "Little hairs," she said delightedly, "just like in the legends. What are they for?"

"They register heat, electricity, magnetism, air pressure-something like a cat's whiskers." Objective discussion had lost the ability to cool his ardor, continuously fueled by her seductive touch.

"If they're so sensitive," she said, "how can you stand to grasp objects?"

"It only reacts to light touch. Firm pressure overwhelms the nerve endings and has no effect." Unlike her relentless tickling.

"Fascinating." She bent over to flick her tongue across his palm.

"Britt, I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Why? Don't you like it?" "Too much," he groaned.

"I'd like to kiss you," Britt said matter-of-factly. "May I?"

In answer, he tangled one hand in the luxuriant hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her close. When her lips touched his, though, he allowed the kiss without returning it.

The disappointment in Britt's eyes almost shattered his self-control. "Come on, colleague, I'm sure you can do better than that!"

"I can," he said. "But it might provoke me into-renewing my demands." His teeth were tingling; the cilia in his palms bristled with the need to touch her heat and softness.

"Good," Britt said. "I want to find out what it's like when you aren't hurried." Again she pressed her mouth to his. The invasion of her tongue shattered the last of his resistance. Gathering her into his arms, he drew her down beside him.

"Britt, are you sure?"

"Hard to convince, aren't you?" She lightly bit his shoulder. "Yes, I'm sure I want to make love with you."

He buried his face in her hair, astonished at the sudden tears that stung his eyes. "Is that what you call it?"

"What do you call it?" she said.

"Nothing, usually. I try to think of it as little as possible."

Britt pulled back to stare into his eyes. "I hope that will change from now on."

He kissed her again, feasting on her pa.s.sion. In leisurely exploration, his lips wandered over her neck, shoulders, and b.r.e.a.s.t.s, while she retaliated by nibbling everywhere she could reach. Her mouth and hands set him on fire. His heartbeat raced in sync with hers.

This time he lavished on her the attention she deserved, and neither of them had any complaints.

AT FIVE A.M. Roger glanced up from the journal he was reading to drink in the sight of Britt stretched out asleep on his bed.

She'd resisted her fatigue as long as possible, eager to question him. They'd talked for hours, until he had finally persuaded her to rest, around one. Since then he'd been relaxing in an armchair across the room, simultaneously watching her and reading.

A ripple of the sheet drew his eyes. Britt rolled over and looked at him. "Aren't you sleepy? Come lie down."

The invitation reminded him of how exhausted he really was. And now dawn was near enough to let him sleep. He lay next to Britt, and she curled up with her head on his chest. Another first-he'd never shared a bed with anyone before. Enfolded in the warmth of Britt's aura, he sank into the welcoming darkness almost at once.

A subjective instant later, he woke with Britt's voice ringing in his head: "Roger, wake up!"

Her anxiety shrilled in his ears and sent his pulse rate soaring. He snapped fully awake. Britt was bending over him.

"Take it easy, colleague," she said. Noticing that he was squeezing her wrists painfully hard, he let go.

"Sorry. What's wrong?"

She looked embarra.s.sed. "Nothing, I guess. I couldn't find any vital signs-you scared me."

"Iscaredyou ?" His adrenaline jolt was ebbing now. "You nearly shocked me into cardiac arrest, waking me that way. Didn't I explain that for vampires deep sleep is actually suspended animation?" "Being told and witnessing it are two different things." Kneeling on the bed, she let her unbound hair sweep across his chest. "Let me make it up to you."

"I've drained too much energy from you already." Besides, sated to the point of intoxication, he wanted most to go back to sleep.

A glance at the bedside clock told him that wasn't an option.

Britt extended her arms in a catlike stretch. "I don't feel drained-I feel wonderful. I'm really a morning person anyhow."

"I've noticed," he said dryly. Her habit of bounding into the office, obscenely cheerful, at nine a.m. was one of the minor trials of his life. "Truthfully, colleague, I'm not sure I'm-"

She filled in the gap his hesitation left. "Up for another round? I'll fix that."

Wasting no more time in argument, Britt worked over him with her teeth and nails. When all his nerves were humming with the delicious torment of her caresses, she lay on top of him. He felt as if his skin burst into flame at every point where their bodies touched. At the moment of her climax, she offered her throat to his kiss. He needed only a taste to drown in her ecstasy.

Her panting breath hot on his shoulder, she said, "Roger, that's so-I'm at a loss for words!"

"You? Then I've accomplished the impossible."

She stirred enough to nip his earlobe. "You've done some thing, anyway. I almost never have multiple o.r.g.a.s.ms."

So he had managed to give to Britt, as well as taking from her. That knowledge lent a piercing sweetness to his pleasure. "It's a completely new experience for me, too. After last night I realize I've been-starved-for the past twenty years."

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "How do you feel now?"

"Drunk, with none of the unpleasant side effects. Sleepy. Speaking of which, why did you wake me? Surely not just to indulge our mutual appet.i.te?"

She sat up and scowled at the clock. "I have to get dressed for work, and I figured you'd want to call Marcia and tell her you won't be in."

Roger reluctantly sat up, too. "Why would I do that?"

"You've had a rough night. You need to sleep it off."

"You've had an equally stressful night, and I don't see you planning to stay home." He walked over to the closet and picked out a suit. "I've never skipped a day for that reason, and I don't plan to start now. Rather like the heavy drinker who claims he's not an alcoholic because he's never missed a day of work."

Laughing, Britt headed for the guest bathroom.

After they'd showered and dressed, and Britt had fueled up with orange juice and Instant Breakfast ("If I'm going to spend nights here regularly, you have to get something to eat in this house," she admonished him), he drove her to the stadium for the car early enough to give her time to rush home and change clothes before office hours. Just before parting from him, she said, "I'd like you to make me a promise, Roger. No more patients."

He felt a flutter of anxiety beneath his diaphragm. "I'd like to a.s.sure you that it won't happen again. But I've made that resolution before and failed."

"Maybe with my help, you won't fail." What she implied thrilled and yet frightened him. "Britt, serving as my only source of-nourishment-could be dangerous for you."

"Let me worry about that."

As much as he wanted to evade the issue, he knew he had to speak up before he lost his nerve. "You must understand-I would never force you, physically or mentally. If I make that promise, I'll be placing myself completely in your hands."

She gave him a quick, firm hug. "We'll discuss it later."

He got to the office long before either Britt or Marcia, of course, and spent the time drinking coffee to wake up and reviewing case files to reroute his train of thought. When Britt arrived half an hour later, he made a point of staying out of her way. He didn't feel ready to handle their new relationship in the work setting. Despite this careful avoidance, her presence seemed to seep through the walls and permeate the very air he breathed. Only when occupied with a patient could he forget what he'd shared with her. Replete and tired as he was, stray wisps of memory still had the power to stir his appet.i.te.

What's the matter with me? I shouldn't feel acute hunger for nearly a week.He recalled Volnar's longwinded lecture about "addiction." So the Prime Elder hadn't been exaggerating, after all.d.a.m.n, I'm really hooked. In one night, hooked, netted, and trapped. And I love it!

Fortunately for Roger's equilibrium, these reflections were cut short by the arrival of Alice Kovak. This would be her first session since the attack, whose only outward sign remained a gauze square taped to the side of her neck. Roger's preternatural sight discerned the paleness of her aura, marred by scattered dark blotches. After soothing her into relaxation on the couch, he asked how much she remembered of the a.s.sault.

"Still nothing," she said. "Except his eyes-like flames. I don't want to remember."

"That's understandable," Roger said from his position near the head of the couch. "But we've discussed before how much worse it is to evade such memories. The unknown, the repressed, is always more frightening than the reality. When you're ready, you will remember what you need to." In this case, of course, he meant to screen her recollections so that she wouldn't dredge up anything to implicate him.

"He keeps after me-calling me-" she murmured.

"Threatening phone calls? Have you reported this to the police?"

Alice shook her head impatiently. "Not on the phone-inhere ." She tapped her forehead. "I hear him calling inside my brain. I don't remember what he looks like or anything else, but I know it's him."

"Alice, how could he do that? Reality test-he isn't super-human." Except that he was, of course, and her perception could very well be based on fact.If Sandor is trying to lure her into his clutches, it's my fault.

In an unexpected spasm of energy, Alice sat up and twisted around to clasp his wrist. "I do remember one thing-how you took care of me when I got to your house. You saved my life."

He kept his voice even, suppressing the impulse to shake off her touch. "You saved your own life. You should be proud of the courage and presence of mind you displayed."

"If you hadn't been there for me-" She didn't let go. "I wish I could pay you back somehow." She started to put her other arm around Roger's neck.

His total lack of response surprised him. A few minutes ago he'd been feeling twinges of thirst for Britt.

For Britt-not for anyone else. This girl leaves me cold.

He gently unfastened Alice's hands and maneuvered her back to her seat on the couch. "We've talked about this before, too. You don't actually feel a personal attraction to me." No, she felt an unnatural fascination-the aftereffect of the one time he'd fed on her.

She huddled sullenly in a corner of the sofa. "Yeah, sure, transference. You have a label for everything, don't you?"

"Do you resent that?" Drawing her out, he led her through the rest of the fifty minutes. Her insistence that her attacker, the man with glowing eyes, was stalking her, "calling" inside her head, preyed on Roger's mind. He was grateful to usher the girl out of the office at the end of her session.

In the ten minute break, he flipped the yellow pages to "Florists" and ordered a dozen red roses for Britt.I must be losing my mind, but I'm enjoying it. The gesture was little enough to show his grat.i.tude. No signature; he ordered the card to read simply, "Thank you." His newfound "addiction" didn't feel like enslavement; rather, Britt had freed him from the whims of his body. Two weeks ago, a casual touch from a female patient would have sent him into an emotional tailspin.

At lunch he considered taking a forty-five minute nap, as he sometimes did, but decided against it. In his fatigued condition, waking up after that short a time would feel worse than not sleeping at all. About ten minutes into the lunch hour, Britt knocked on his door.

Chapter 15

HE WARILY WATCHED her stride over to his desk and sit on the edge of it. "Well, now I know why you stay in every day at noon," she said. "And to think I worried that you weren't eating properly."

"You were right," he said, "but for a different reason." After a glance at her, he forced his eyes back to the case file he was annotating. "Anything in particular you wanted?"

"To thank you for the flowers. They made Marcia's day. Now she can needle me about my secret admirer for the next week or two."

"You're very welcome. Now, we really should get back to work, shouldn't we?"

He felt her stiffen at his coolness. She straightened up and backed away a couple of paces. "I was thinking of offering you lunch, but I gather that isn't a good idea."

"Here? Certainly not."

He didn't realize how harsh he sounded until she stalked to the door. "Britt, wait."

She turned to glare at him.

"Forgive me-I sense every nuance of your emotions so keenly, I forget you can't read mine. I'm trying to keep my distance because if I touched you, I couldn't-" He hated admitting his weakness.

Britt let go of the doork.n.o.b and walked back to the desk. "I see. For a minute I actually thought you regretted last night."

"Never that! But this isn't the place."

"I have to agree," she said. "Would you like me to come over again this evening?"

Heat flooded him. He could hardly restrain himself from leaping up to embrace her. "Yes. And the promise you asked for-you have it."

Her eyes gleamed. "You won't regret that. I won't give you time to miss them! Your weekends are going to be fully booked from now on, colleague."

Listening to her through the walls a minute later, as she puttered around her office, he caught the sound of humming. Since Britt's musical style was best described as off-key monotone, it took him a while to distinguish the tune. When he did, his weariness melted away.

She was humming the James Bond theme, "n.o.body does it better...."