Authors: Karen E. Taylor
Hunger (28 page)
Chapter 23
I
awoke alone with his name echoing angrily in my head. Mitch must have risen without waking me. I dressed quickly and walked out of the bedroom. Mitch was sitting at the kitchen table, finishing a sandwich. He looked up at me, smiled and finished swallowing. “Sleep well?”
awoke alone with his name echoing angrily in my head. Mitch must have risen without waking me. I dressed quickly and walked out of the bedroom. Mitch was sitting at the kitchen table, finishing a sandwich. He looked up at me, smiled and finished swallowing. “Sleep well?”
“Fine.” I stared at him for a minute, as he stood up and put his plate into the sink. When he turned around he gave me a puzzled look.
“What's wrong? You look shook up.”
“Bad dream.” I said simply. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, if you are.”
We walked out of the apartment and got into his car. As he began driving, he turned to me. “Are you sure you're all right? You look like you might be getting sick or something.”
“No, I'm fine.” I reached over and touched his thigh gently. “Mitch,” I asked casually, “what was that you said yesterday about the girl in the morgue?”
“Who?”
“You know, the fourth murder victim. Something about her disturbed you.”
“Yeah, she reminded me of you. It bothered me a lot.” He smiled and put his hand on top of mine. “But I'm okay now. All of that helped me realize that it didn't matter what or who you are. I knew that I still loved you, if I could get so upset about seeing the dead body of someone who just looked like you.”
“In what way did she look like me?”
“Well, she was about your height, your build and her hair was almost the same color, other than that . . .” He stopped abruptly and gave me a sharp look. “Why? Is it important?”
“No, probably not.” It really didn't matter at that point; I was still overwhelmed by the identity of the man in my dream. I began to think about our relationship over the years. How could I have been so blind? That first spark of recognition at the diner in Kansas should have told me. So many things since I had known him should have told me. The way he controlled and manipulated me, the way I could never stay angry about anything that he did to me, the way I always came crawling back to the sanctuary of his presence. “Damn,” I whispered to myself.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, only do you think you could drive a little faster. I'd like to get this over with.”
He looked at me questioningly, and said nothing but increased his speed as much as possible. The streets were congested with cars and pedestrians. It took us over twenty minutes to travel the remaining six blocks. The whole time I stared out the window, clenching my fists so tightly that my nails broke the surface of the skin. I opened my hands, eight perfect crescents of congealed blood marked the palms.
Mitch parked his car out front and when the doorman tried to stop him, he showed his badge. “Police business,” he said and the doorman let us through. We shouldered our way through the crowd in the bar and eventually made our way to the hall that led to Max's office.
Before we reached the door, Mitch stopped in his tracks and grabbed my arms. “Deirdre, what the hell is going on here? All of a sudden, it's like you know something I don't. Care to enlighten me?” His voice was tense and nervous.
“How could he take me in so completely?” I spoke as if to myself. “All these years, and I never knew him, never knew who he was. And now, it's so obvious.”
“What's obvious, Deirdre? Who are you talking about?”
I shook my head. “I've been a fool. I suppose I didn't really want to know.” I broke away from Mitch and began walking again. He stood still staring for a moment, then caught up with me as I reached Magus closed door.
I pulled him into a fierce embrace. “I love you,” I said as I stretched up and kissed him, forgetful for one moment of all that waited for me, behind the door.
“And I love you, too. But this hardly seems the time or place . . .”
“There may be no time, later.” I looked deeply into his eyes. “Wait here, Mitch,” I pleaded. “I'll handle this by myself.”
“Handle what?” he started, but the door opened.
Max stood there, elegant as usual. His features seemed more cruel, more inhuman than I could ever have imagined them. His eyes blazed as they met mine. “What a delightful surprise. You're right on time. Please come in.”
I ignored him and kissed Mitch again, slowly and lingeringly. “Stay here,” I said to him again when we had finished.
Max laughed. “How touching, Deirdre. But you have me all wrong. I don't intend to hurt him, not if he gives me what I want. And he will, you know. Please come in, you're both most welcome.”
“ âEnter freely and of your own will?'”I quoted to him. “Don't you think that just may be a trifle melodramatic, Max?”
He smiled at me and nodded. “Perhaps it is, my little one. But at least you finally understand. That's good. Although I had wanted to reveal myself to you at my own time, when I spoke with Victor, and he told me he had informed you about my escort the other night, well, I realized that it wouldn't be long before the two of you began to put everything together on your own. And so now you know who and what I am. I'm glad; it will make everything so much easier.”
Mitch looked at both of us, in confusion. “I don't understand. Would someone just tell me what is going on here?”
“Dracula welcomes Jonathan Harker to his castle,” I said to him gently. “Chapter two, I believe.” Max nodded and I continued. “I thought you had done research, Mitch.”
“Then,” he said in disbelief, “Max is also a . . . just like you.”
Max's sardonic laughter echoed in the hallway and I felt a chill run up my spine. “So you found the courage to tell him, my dear. And he still stands with you. That's good.” Then he turned to Mitch. “Yes, Greer. I'm also a vampire. But you'll find that, unlike some,” and he gave me a surprisingly gentle glance, “I'm not afraid to say the word, nor to use the powers I have. But it is most inappropriate to discuss this here in the hall.” He motioned us in and we obeyed.
The power he was exerting over us seemed insurmountable and when he gestured for us to sit down, we did so mechanically and without question. Mitch, I noticed briefly, was busy surveying the surroundings, but I could barely take my eyes away from Max. “You and I have a few scores to settle, Max,” I said through clenched teeth. “Let Mitch go. He can't hurt you.”
“Oh, but he already has. He has taken you and loved you. And made you love him. That cannot be allowed. I'd wager that he wouldn't hesitate to kill me now, if he could. Isn't that right, Greer?”
“You son of a bitch,” Mitch snarled and reached into his coat for his gun. He was no match for the other's reflexes. Max moved across the room in a blur and gripped Mitch's arm, twisting until the gun dropped. Then, with a small smile at me, he continued to twist. Mitch gave a moan of pain and I could hear his bones breaking, accompanied by a wet, tearing sound. One of the bones had broken through his skin and my nostrils flared. The room was now filled with the scent of blood.
“Max!” I pleaded with him. “Please stop.”
“Anything you say, my dear.” Max flung him into a corner of the room as if he weighed nothing. Mitch's head hit the wall and his moaning ceased. I ran to him, searching for the pulse in his neck.
“Still alive?” Max inquired. When I nodded, he shook his head. “He must be stronger than I thought. It makes no difference, I suppose. He can live, for now.”
“So help me, Max, if you kill him . . .”
“Oh, but I won't kill him, Deirdre.” He looked amused. “I wouldn't even dream of it. Once again you have misjudged me.”
I managed a low, bitter laugh. “Misjudged you? No, I don't think so, Max. Underestimated. maybe. But you're capable of anything, aren't you?”
He thought for a moment. “Let's just say that I rarely fail when I set my mind to something. Besides, when one is faced with eternity, as are you and I, a few lives don't matter.”
“How can you say that?” I was horrified. “That's inhuman.”
“Ah, but then, isn't that the point? We are inhuman.”
“Thanks to you, I am. Would you care to explain that?”
“You, I'm sad to admit, were a mistake. I never intended to turn you into a vampire. I've found over the years that women make very poor initiates. They just don't have the cruelty, the ruthlessness that is needed.” He gave me a tender glance and walked gracefully to me. He took my hand and kissed it gently. “You don't either, my love. But you had a will to survive and that carried you through. I admired you at the time for the fight you put up. I admire you now. You are one of my best creations.”
I stiffened and pulled my hand away. “You have other creations? Where?”
“All over the world, I believe. I keep in touch with a few of them, still. Some are more successful than others, but none turned out quite so well nor half so beautiful as you. I have retried the experiment over the years, you know. Taken someone unwilling and forced my blood upon them. They all died, hideously with the first sunrise. But you had the instincts and the wit to survive.” He moved closer to me and fastened his eyes upon me again. “When I met you at that diner in Kansas, I could hardly believe you were the same person. The fact that you had lived for so long, on your own, unguided and untaught, surprised me. Even those with the best of teachers fail and die, usually within fifty years of their transformation.” He reached over to me and laid his hands on my shoulders. “But there could be no mistaking you; the blood we had shared called to me. And to you, although you did not know enough then to recognize the bond that held us together. I almost told you, the night we made love, but you weren't ready yet.”
“Ready for what?” I asked and a moan interrupted us. We both looked over to the corner where Mitch lay and found him sitting up, rubbing his head with his left arm. His right arm dangled uselessly at his side. I tried to move, but Max's grip tightened.
“Ready to join with me, forever.”
“I would never do that, Max. You represent everything I hate, everything our kind has been reviled for over the centuries. There is no need to kill, no hunger so great that would necessitate the death of the victim.”
Max threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, Deirdre, you are so young, so innocent yet. Look at her, Greer. Is she not magnificent? The face of an angel and the kiss of a devil. A body captured and preserved at its peak of maturity and passion. Yet in vampire terms, she is still only a child, little more than an infant. She has yet to realize one-tenth of her powers, powers of the body and mind which I have bequeathed to her.” He gave both Mitch and me a humorless smile, frightening in its inhumanity, then grasped my face in his hands. “And still you talk of needs and hunger as if the thirst for life could be measured in pints. There was no need, I kill simply because I can.”
A faint sound from Mitch's corner interrupted him. Max turned and went to him. “I don't think you will need that radio, Greer. Give it to me.”
As Max's hand neared him, Mitch clutched the unit tighter. “You won't get away with this, Hunter,” he said grimly, his mouth contorted with pain. Quickly Max reached over and wrested the box from his grip. He looked down on Mitch, an expression of disdain on his face.
“Can you stop me?” he sneered derisively as he reached down and took hold of Mitch's knee. Small beads of sweat began to form on Mitch's forehead and once again I could hear the sound of breaking bones. He let out one labored breath as Max continued, “Are you man enough to take me, Greer?” He turned away abruptly and began to laugh.
“Damn you, Hunter,” Mitch said with a grimace. “Get on with your story. I'd like to hear your justification for four murders.”
Max laughed again, still looking down at Mitch. “Justification? Why should I need justification for any of my deeds? And why would I provide it to such as you? I could explain to Deirdre, for she might come close to understanding. There are times, lately, when the blood is not enough, when I need the total quenching of life. It was not premeditated, not planned; the deaths simply happened. At such times I have no control, but it makes no difference.”
Mitch stared at him, as did I; his total lack of shame for his deeds appalled us. “Before you go any further,” Mitch told him in a tight, pained voice, “I must inform you that anything that you say can be considered a confession at this point and it will be used as such.”
Max turned to me. “I begin to understand your attraction, my dear. He is a very determined man, even when helpless. He would do well as one of us, don't you think, Deirdre?”
I said nothing but I gasped. “But, no,” Max went on, “that would probably be unwise. And you seem to like him human, so human he will remain.” He lowered his voice, all traces of humor vanished. “The span of his human endurance I leave up to you.”
He strode over to me, held me in his arms. His eyes were crazed, maniacal, striving to draw me into his madness. I looked away, but stood limp and passive in his embrace, not wanting my struggle to inflict further torture on Mitch. “I want you, Deirdre.” He whispered to me now, an urging, demanding whisper that caused a chill to travel through my body. “I have always wanted you. You will grow stronger, you will cast away your petty morals. I will teach you to revel in death, as I do.” His voice was deep and passionate, his words echoed in my brain. He began to caress my back, his hands strong on my yielding flesh. “Look at me,” he commanded and wrapped my hair around his hand, drawing my head back roughly. Our eyes met and I knew I was lost. Then Max kissed me, his lips burned on mine, his eyes blazed into my very soul and I thought he would never stop. I did not want him to stop. Mitch whispered my name in anguish, but I still could not take my eyes from Max.
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