Pulse. Part 1

PULSE.

Kailin gow.

DEDICATION.

This book is dedicated to all the nameless volunteer blood donors, my doctor, and nurses at Las Colinas Medical Center in Texas who helped me pull through when I had suffered extreme blood loss, blacked out, and nearly hit my head on the floor. Your team gave me bags of blood for transfusion, which helped restore me to a level of safety.

My body craved the blood to keep alive, yet the thought of having to receive the blood from others because my own body couldn't generate it fast enough, made me empathize with vampires like Jaegar and Stuart.

When faced with death by blood loss, you realize how precious that blood in your veins and that beat in your heart is. Thank you blood donors around the world for providing this pulse for me and everyone who may at one point or another require your gift.

providing this pulse for me and everyone who may at one point or another require your gift.

Sincerely, Kailin.

prologue.

She ran like an animal. Her clothes were wet, sopping, clinging to her thighs and to her chest, hollow and transparent around the curve of her shoulders. Her hair shook out droplets of rain; her cheeks were flushed and she was breathless. He could see her heartbeat throbbing at the side of her throat, see it in the rhythmic panting, hear it from across the street, pounding in his ears, intermingled with the thunder bolting from the sky. He could feel it a it felt like an earthquake to him, shaking his ribs, his shoulders, his legs. It had been so long since he had seen a heartbeat like hers a since he had felt a heartbeat at all. The skies had opened up a as they so often did in North California a without any warning, without any hesitation. It was as if the smooth blue gla.s.s ceiling of the world had shattered all at once, letting the primordial oceans pound down upon the pavement. He could see her consternation, her irritation a she wanted nothing but to get out of the rain, to dry herself off, to curl up into something warm and dry.

But Jaegar loved the rain. He loved the energy a the pulse of life beating down upon the earth. He could hear the scattered raindrops in their rhythmic approach to earth and pretend that each fall of rain was a beat of his dead heart. And she was alive with the energy, too a alive as he had never seen a woman alive, tossing her hair back, running into shelter, and her lips were pink and her cheeks were red. He remembered that his lips would never again be pink, that his cheeks would never again be red.

She was so young.

Humans so often surprised him in that way. They looked no different from him a he could have been seventeen; he had been seventeen for so long a but their youth never failed to surprise him. The way the world was so new to them a that rain could still take them by surprise, when he had seen so many rainfalls. He could smell her. The wind carried her scent to him like an animal's scent, and it was all he could do to keep his fangs in check. He leaned heavily upon the branch and parted the leaves to get a better look at her. He could feel the blood a stagnant in his veins a begin something like a torpid, sluggish, shift towards life a the branch and parted the leaves to get a better look at her. He could feel the blood a stagnant in his veins a begin something like a torpid, sluggish, shift towards life a the closest thing he would ever get to a heartbeat. She was the sort of girl who made young boys' hearts pound, he thought a and they never knew how lucky they were to experience that sensation.

For it was the physical aspect of it, he thought, that humans understood least of all. They romanticized vampires, of course a how terrible it would be to live at night! To drink blood! To prey upon humans! These were things they could intellectualize, understand. Humans had been forced to commit murder. Humans had been forced to bite back their most natural, primal desires a and so they could almost understand, when they imagined vampires, what it was like to feel that insatiable hunger for a woman's throat, her breast, her wrist. But not a human in the world had ever been alive without living, without a heartbeat a and so they took it for granted a what it meant, that constant linear throbbing, clock-like, towards inevitable death. For Jaegar was a vampire, and he was not alive, and the dull ache in his chest where a heartbeat should have been was for him one of the most agonizing things in the world.

They don't know, he thought. They'll never understand.

He had been told that she was the one. He had waited for her until sunset a the sun agonizing upon him, even with the ring around his finger. Vampires were not meant for light, and even the strongest magic could not take away the pain, searing, burning, aching, in his flesh. He was unnatural in sunlight, and only now that dusk was beginning to settle over him could he find relief. He sat perched in the tree, obscured by the leaves, staring at her as she ran down the street. He leaned in too closely a the birds noticed at last that something was wrong in their midst and took flight; a flurry of wings beat up around him and the branch snapped from the tree and plummeted to the earth below.

It was enough time to make a distraction.

He concentrated, and in half a second he was behind her, so close he could feel the wind blow her hair upon his lips, and then he opened the umbrella above her.

"Miss," he said.

She startled.

"What the..." She rounded on him.

"You looked wet," he said. She did not seem amused.

"I'm warning you," she said. "I know kung fu."

He had learned kung fu once, many centuries ago. He thought it better not to mention it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just trying to help."

She softened.

"Thanks," she said, lamely. "I'm sorry a I didn't mean to snap at you. But you need to learn not to sneak up on people like that. You scared me."

Her eyes remained fixed upon the tree from which he had come. A suspicious glare clouded her gaze. Had she seen a was she wondering? He knew she knew something was wrong. He tried to maintain whatever pleasant normalcy he could. The sequoias were tall, after all. No human could survive a jump from them a he knew she knew this. He knew she thought he was human.

Don't do this. His mind raged against him. Don't do this.

But vampires had the power of hypnosis, called compulsion a and Jaegar felt himself hypnotized too a he could not stop himself, he could not stop her. Her eyes grew wide and he could see them grow hot and fevered with desire.

Not again, Jaegar. He had promised himself never to use his influence on mortals again. It was dishonorable, Aaron had said a but what could be dishonorable for a vampire? Their rules were of conquest, of power; he could not remember a century when human rules had governed him.

"Take this," he said, trying to pretend to himself that it was not the magic, trying to pretend perhaps it was only his beauty a he was beautiful, after all, - but he could not control it, any more than she could control it; his hypnosis reflected back at him from the depths of her eyes. He handed her his umbrella; she clasped her fingers around it.

"Thank you," she whispered. It was the dull voice of possession.

d.a.m.n it, Jaegar, not again!

This had never happened to him before. Whenever he had hypnotized a human female, it had been intentional. In the days before Aaron he had felt no regret a he had plucked out the most beautiful maidens in every century and thus made them succ.u.mb to him. But this was different. He had never meant to do it. Something about this human female affected him and chipped away his resolve like no other before. He had promised never to do it... He was under his own spell. He felt his arms gather around her neck, his lips come closer to her mouth, until at last he could breathe in the air from her mouth, and taste the life moist on her lips, and smell her intoxicating hint of perfume. He could feel her heartbeat against her chest, the constant rhythm as steady as the rain. And then the spell was broken. She recoiled a she could feel the deathly cold of his lips, the chill on his cheek a she was still dulled in her confusion, but it was enough for him to regain control of his powers a to run, to hide his shame...

What a humiliation! For a vampire not to control his powers! He had gone soft, he reasoned, ever since he'd listened to Aaron's stupid admonitions. He was letting his vampire nature get the better of him.

Well, enough of that, he thought. Stuart was the soft one a Jaegar was not. And Jaegar had no patience for these kinds of games. Kalina was the key, after all. Next time he saw her, he'd be prepared. He'd have control over his powers. He'd be waiting. And he'd show her no mercy...

Kalina stood staring a moment after he had gone, trying to piece together what had happened. A stranger a a strange smell, like the bark of trees, or the musk of the woods a an arm around her, something against her lips. She could not remember the order of events a a kiss, then a rustle in the trees, then his arms, then a stranger a or was it the other way around? But the feelings lingered, adrenaline rushing through her veins, her desire like perfume hanging upon the air. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She had known desire, she supposed a she and Aaron had made out a few times in the library mezzanine after study hall, and even let him see her in her bra once or twice a but this was different. There had been no fumbling, no embarra.s.sed confusion, no accidental clashing of teeth or kick in the leg. She had wanted to...oh, sometimes she had really wanted to a but whenever things had gotten close, he'd run off, find some excuse, some textmessage on his phone, go out drinking and emerge tipsy in the afternoon, smelling of alcohol and staggering in zig-zags. The taste of the stranger remained on her lips, and yet she could not remember him having kissed her a or who he was. She only felt something hot in the pit of her stomach, something hot and strange and she was still breathless but she must have stopped running five minutes ago. She scanned her mind for what could have happened. She had read about girls getting drugged at nightclubs a a girl in the year above her had been roofied and raped after prom, and a football player had been suspended. The girl had transferred to a school in New York City. She had always been careful, even paranoid a watching her cup at parties, telling a friend where she was before she went out to party with the rest of the cheerleading squad. But she hadn't been drinking a it was a school afternoon and she had done nothing but jog to the library in the rain. Drugs? No. Since Aaron's death, she had stared many times at her brother's prescription pad a which he always left so tantalizingly close on his desk (she could have forged his signature, gotten herself something to numb the pain...), but she wasn't stupid. She prided herself on not being stupid. Other girls were stupid a girls who didn't get good grades, who drank too much at parties, who cried about breakups in math cla.s.s. She judged them harshly - too harshly, Aaron had said. "They were only human," he'd reminded her, with a strange, almost paternal care for the girls in her grade. But Kalina was strong, she reminded herself. She wasn't stupid. She hadn't been doing drugs. She hadn't been drinking. She knew not to drink. Aaron was a drinker a she had broken up with Aaron for being a drinker. She knew that smart girls didn't black out. She knew this. Then what had happened?

She reached the library and then she realized it.

There was an umbrella in her hand.

She swallowed hard and tried to forget, tried to cool her blood as it burned and boiled in her veins. But seeing the library doors didn't make it any easier. She hadn't been to the library since the end of her junior year, since they found the remains of Aaron. She hadn't needed to study in summer. She was a straight-A student hadn't been to the library since the end of her junior year, since they found the remains of Aaron. She hadn't needed to study in summer. She was a straight-A student anyway. But now it was senior fall, and not even the memories would deter her from being valedictorian, deter her from applying early to Yale, deter her... She was smart, d.a.m.n it! She punched the door open. She was smart. She was sensible. She could get over this. She had to get over this. She was strong... And yet her heart wouldn't stop pounding.

Seeing the Greystone Bible didn't make it any easier. It was Aaron's family Bible a pa.s.sed down through centuries of frontiersmen and saloon owners a the story of the American West in smudged print and faded daguerreotype. Aaron had been so proud when the library had asked to exhibit it a he'd told her about his halfbrother, whom she had never met, and how proud he would be too... And there was the Bible, encased in gla.s.s, and now along with the frontiersmen and the pioneers there was a birth date and a death date for Aaron Greystone, who was only seventeen when he died.

She brushed the tears back from her eyes. There wasn't time for this.

But she couldn't stop herself from going over to the exhibit, to touching the gla.s.s, even giving it a kiss with her fingertips, hoping n.o.body would see.

"Goodbye, Aaron," she whispered.

The week they had broken up, Aaron had told her that the most important secrets of his life lay in the Greystone Bible. She hadn't wanted to listen to him then a she a.s.sumed he was just drunk, as usual. "You're wasting your life," she'd said.

And he had. DUI. Death Under Idiocy, she thought. They'd said it was a random attack a Kalina didn't believe it. His family was probably just trying to cover it up. It wouldn't look good for Aaron Greystone, of Greystone Wineries, to have died driving drunk.

He had been so stupid a so stupid!

She couldn't forgive him.

Her eyes were misty with tears. She rounded away from the Bible a she couldn't look at it now a and ran smack-straight into a boy, blinded by her grief.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's fine."

That voice...

She looked up, and her heart stopped beating altogether.

"Aaron?"

chapter 1.

Stuart could see the pain in her eyes. For a moment, there was recognition there a she saw Aaron in him; her tear-filled eyes could fix upon the resemblance. The same hazel eyes, deep and warm and comforting. The same sandy brown hair, swept back, only slightly too long. The same smile, as balmy as a summer beach. He knew what she saw in him. And he knew, too, her disappointment, when she clapped her hand over her mouth and turned away in shame.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled. "I'm sorry a I only thought..."

"I know," he said, clearing his throat. He'd been waiting for this for so long a and yet he wasn't sure what to say to her.

"You know?" He saw her furrow her brow.

"Aaron," said Stuart, sticking out his hand. "He was my brother."

"Your..." Kalina gave a little laugh a half of relief, half of self-mockery. "He doesn't have..."

"Half-brother." Stuart said. "I was away when it happened a Aaron and I haven't spoken in quite some years. But...when I heard..."

"You came back," said Kalina.

"Yes, yes."

She was looking him up and down, now, with a powerful and inquisitive eye he had never seen in humans before. Usually he was able to cow them into submission a he never did it unless it was absolutely necessary a to escape a burning or an attack, or a harsh dawn a for he found it distasteful. But he knew it was one power in the vampire a.r.s.enal.

She continued examining him a he knew she was looking for traces of Aaron in him.

Then again, she was no ordinary human.

"He spoke so highly of you," Stuart said.

"I'm glad," said Kalina.

"He loved you very much."

Kalina flushed. "He was a boy," she said. "He didn't know what love was."

"Harsh a to speak ill of the dead," said Stuart. He had not expected this. But the tears in her eyes suggested she wasn't quite as unmoved as she sounded.

"Of course he was a boy a he was seventeen." she said. Her voice trembled. "He was seventeen. And now he'll never grow up. Now he'll never know what it's like...to really love somebody." Her cheeks grew hot and red. "I loved him too a but...it wasn't supposed to be forever. And now...it's forever for him, I guess."

"I'm sorry," said Stuart.

"Oh, G.o.d a no a I'm sorry," said Kalina. "I'm being so insensitive a he was your brother." She looked up at him, her eyes still searching his face. For what a he wondered.

"I didn't know him well," said Stuart shortly. And yet he could see what Aaron had seen in her. She was exquisitely beautiful, with long limbs and silky dark brown hair like a pony's mane, loosely hanging down her back. She was lithe and toned and coltish, and in her eyes there was a trace of something not altogether Californian, a look that reminded him of the Chinese girls he had known centuries earlier. It was a beauty he had not been used to seeing among the bottle-blonds and false-tans of California. It made him think of home.

"So, you're back..." Kalina tried again, composing herself.

"Someone had to help run the Wineries," said Stuart.

"Just what they need," said Kalina. "Those d.a.m.n wineries!" She rubbed her eyes.

"I'm sorry?"

"Their own son a an alcoholic a and after what happened...the Wineries!"

"After what happened?"

Kalina stiffened. "Right. Aaron's death. They never found his body, you know. Apparently he was driving drunk and his car crashed, his body flew out into the wilderness near the school. May have been knocked unconscious and the coyotes got to him. In the end, all they found were his bloodied clothes. After a week of searching and not finding anything, they declared him dead."

So a she had noticed that the circ.u.mstances of his death were suspicious.

"What do you think happened?"

"It's not my place," said Kalina. "I'm sorry."

"No..." he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Please a tell me. It's okay."

"Look," said Kalina. "Aaron a he had a drinking problem. A bad one. I told him...don't get in the car unless your blood alcohol level is virtually nil a I told him, call me, I'll drive you home, always give the keys to a friend...but he was stupid." The word crunched in her mouth. "Yeah, stupid," the tears began flowing again. "I know you're his brother a I don't care a it was a stupid thing to do...getting in a car wasted and leaving the rest of us here...missing him."

He wanted to put his arms around her, to comfort her, to tell her the truth.

"May I..." he always felt so bold, approaching women. When he was born, a man could get stoned for less. "May I offer you a...hug?"