Obviously, Elvis had already left the building on that particular subject. Thierry just didn’t know it yet.
My head still ached from bashing it against the brick wall, and I also was dealing with the taste of Gideon’s disturbingly delicious blood still in my mouth, but Thierry’s current state of health was my number-one concern.
Fortunately, George wasn’t home. I knew he had his first shift at the strip club that evening and hoped he was getting over his odd mood enough to rake in the tips. Serving alcohol to a sea of horny human females amongst a bunch of half-dressed muscled men helped to get the cash flowing. I might know that from personal experience. No admissions here.
I nudged the front door open and helped Thierry inside. A small table light was on, but the overhead wasn’t so I made a move for the light switch. He took my hand in his to stop me.
“No more lights,” he said.
I looked at him through the near darkness. “Why? You want to make sure I don’t see you? Want to keep your identity a secret?”
“Something like that.”
I hissed out a breath, annoyed by his typical stubbornness. “Then keep your stupid mask on, but I need to see your wound.”
“Forget my wound. I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re going to keel over.”
He braced a hand against the wall behind him. The other hand, now dark with his blood, was pressed to his chest. “I’ve felt better.”
“The blood of a dead human is like a poison for vamps,” I stated the obvious. “But the guy was barely dead. Why would it affect you this badly?”
His jaw clenched. When he raised his gaze to mine I could see the uncertainty there as well as the pain. “If the freshly dead blood was consumed orally it wouldn’t be as great a risk, but a silver weapon tipped with the same blood will have a more deadly result.”
“Deadly,” I repeated, feeling cold.
“I need to leave.” He made a move toward the door, but I easily blocked his way.
“Is there somebody who can help you? A doctor that knows how to fix this sort of injury?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
I felt a flash of panic. “What do you mean?”
His lips thinned. “Gideon may have gotten his wish tonight.”
“Don’t tell me you think you’re dying.”
“Then I won’t tell you that.” His pale expression shadowed. “But there is no cure I’m aware of to reverse the effects of such an injury.”
He braced himself against the wall behind him and slid slowly to the floor. The blood on his hand was slick and shiny even in the darkness.
If it was a regular knife wound it would be healed already. I remembered when I was staked and Thierry got me to drink from him afterward to help me heal up quickly with his master vampire blood.
According to Gideon, my blood was even more powerful than that. It had even taken his pain away. A magical cure-all.
“Wait here,” I snapped at him.
I was all bossy when I was scared. And I was. He was dying. It was slow but every moment that passed I could see the life leaving him bit by bit.
In the kitchen I grabbed the sharpest knife I could find and then went back into the living room.
“You need to drink some of my blood,” I told him. “If I can heal Gideon, maybe I can heal you, too.”
“Sarah—”
I waved off any protests he might make. “Gideon wants my blood because it’s supercharged with energy and healing properties. I’m like a can of medicinal Red Bull right now.”
I took the knife and held it against my forearm, tensed, and then dragged the sharp edge across my skin. Ouch. The blood welled up and I sat down on the floor next to him and held my arm out.
His eyes darkened, literally, but he turned his face away. “No, Sarah.”
“Drink.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“I won’t. It’s… it’s complicated. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Stubbornness, thy name was Thierry de Bennicoeur. Yes, he had an addiction to blood and whenever he got a taste he went a bit insane. It had happened once or twice with me—he’d tasted me and lost control. Now this might sound kind of hot, but it wasn’t. It was scary and dangerous and he’d almost drained me dry.
At the moment, I was tempting fate by waving myself like a big juicy steak in front of a starving lion. But there simply wasn’t any other choice.
“Stop being a baby and drink my blood.” Definitely not a phrase I used every day.
His eyes had turned completely black with hunger. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know who I am.”
Wrong, devil-boy. I knew exactly who he was. He was the man I loved, despite his being the most impossible, stubborn, secretive jerk on the planet and currently under the impression I was cheating on him with the leader of the vampire hunters.
I brought my arm another inch closer.
“Sarah…” His voice lowered further, into a low tone that gave me goose bumps.
“Drink,” I insisted for what felt like the millionth time.
His hands moved to grip my arm and he gazed at the line of blood presented to him. After hesitating for another long moment, he lowered his mouth and slid his tongue along the wound and without any further protests, he drank. His eyes closed and he gripped me very tightly.
Sure, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to stop him. When he drank blood he lost that part of himself that helped him stay in control. Sort of like me losing my gold chain. He’d promised to work on this little problem of his, but as with an alcoholic, it was probably best to stay away from the drug of choice.
Blood was Thierry’s drug. Which, as a vampire, was not exactly convenient.
After a minute or two, he pulled his mouth away from my skin and looked at me, his eyes as black as death itself. I forced myself to stand up and he followed. He trailed his hands around to my back, and he pressed me against the wall with the weight of his body.
“I don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate this.” His voice was low and sexy and very much not like the normal bloodless Thierry.
“You’re probably right,” I managed, my body tingling everywhere he touched me.
“And yet you’re not pushing me away.” One of his hands moved downward again to explore my body in a very non-first-date sort of way. I bit my bottom lip as a hot line of desire raced through me.
Black-eyed Thierry had a tendency to be way more aggressive than regular-eyed Thierry. And while part of me feared this, another part really… well… liked it. A lot.
I know. I had issues.
He stroked the hair off my neck and pulled my shirt off my left shoulder. He did the same thing with my bra strap, and then he caressed the now-exposed skin there.
“You were right. Your blood has healed me, but I want more,” he growled, and I felt the brush of his fangs on my throat. “I need more.”
“You need more of my blood?”
He licked along the curve of my ear as he whispered, “I want to sink into you, Sarah. I want to taste you so deeply…”
“Is that your best pick-up line? Because it’s totally working.”
I tensed at the sudden pain as his needle-sharp fangs pierced my skin. But, instead of pushing him away, I wrapped my arms around him and let him drink. I wanted him to have my blood. I wanted him to be okay.
After a minute, he pulled away from me. His expression was tight and haunted. His chest moved with labored breathing. “I can’t do this. I can’t take too much.” He pushed back from me until there was a good six feet separating us. “I’m surprised at you. Why didn’t you stop me?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Even with your recent interest in Gideon, I was under the impression that you were more loyal to the one you proclaim to love.”
I held a hand to my neck. He was ab
le to stop all by himself. That was major progress! “I am loyal.”
“It doesn’t seem like it to me.” There was a hard edge of anger to his words now.
I eyed him. “I guess you don’t know me very well at all, do you?”
“All I know is that you let me touch you, that you let me taste you, with no protests. I don’t think that’s very loyal behavior.”
“No, it definitely isn’t.” I began to unbutton my blouse and took a small thrill at the shocked look he gave me. “Actually, neither is this.”
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Seducing you.”
He took another step back from me as I approached. “You’ve given me enough of your powerful blood to heal my wound and I thank you for that. But this isn’t right.”
“Because you’re the Red Devil, a vampire of mystery and intrigue?”
“Because you’re in love with another. Or is that no longer the case?”
I let my blouse fall to the ground. I wore a really nice black lace push-up bra underneath. It had a little pink bow in the front that I knew probably wouldn’t make it through the first wash. I never sorted my delicates. It was a lazy habit and it tended to cost me loads in new lingerie.
Not that my laundry habits were even remotely important at the moment. I’m just saying.
“I love you,” I said evenly.
His eyes widened and I watched them slowly change from the black of a hungry vampire back to his cool, gray gaze. “No, Sarah—”
I walked directly toward him and kissed him, feeling how tense he still was. His cold mask shifted a little against my face.
With a low groan, he pushed me back from him. “Why would you say something like this to me?”
“Because it’s true. I love you.” I crossed my arms. “I’m breaking it off with Thierry to be with you. I love you, Red Devil. You can bite me any time. Thierry and I are through, he just can’t get it through his thick head.”
He stared at me for what felt like a very long time, studying my face and body language. Suddenly, a clear realization came over his expression. It was amusing enough to almost salvage the entire messed-up day for me. Almost.
“You know, don’t you?” he asked slowly.
I smiled at him. “That the Red Devil and Thierry de Bennicoeur are one and the same? Of course I know. Duh.”
Chapter 12
You can take the mask off any time now.” I finally flicked on the light and the living room became painfully bright.
He looked stricken. “How did you know?”
“I just knew.” I put a hand on my hip. “Also, that’s not exactly the greatest disguise in the world. It’s just a mask. I mean, how has no one else ever figured it out? Veronique doesn’t even know.”
He shook his head, still holding that expression of shock in his eyes. “Nobody has known.”
“Not even Barry?’
“Not even Barry.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m just special. It’s like Superman when Lois Lane never figured it out—his disguise was a pair of glasses, for Pete’s sake. Ditto Wonder Woman. I mean, maybe Batman had a reason, since his costume was a bit more involved, but still, a jaw line is a jaw line and I could tell—”
“When did you know?”
“The third time I saw you. Or, rather, saw the Red Devil.”
He tentatively reached up and slowly removed the mask. His handsome face was pale behind it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was waiting for you to come clean and tell me.” I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been waiting for a while.”
“I thought… when you let me touch you thinking I was another man that our time apart had added problems to our relationship.”
“No more problems than we already had.” I crossed my arms. “Like the wife who won’t give you an annulment? That’s a problem. Like the fact that we can’t see each other in public or let anyone know we’re still together? Another problem.”
“Like Gideon Chase’s interest in you?” he added.
“Definitely a problem. A big one.” The reminder of the hunter sent a chill down my spine, especially after what had happened in the alley. “But the fact that I like you with or without the mask? That’s not a problem.”
“I must have lost more blood than I thought. You had me completely fooled.”
“I’m obviously a brilliant actress.”
“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Does anyone else know?”
I shook my head. “Just me. And I have no idea how Veronique couldn’t have clued in. By the way, I’m supposed to set you and her up together. She wants to be lovers.”
“When Veronique couldn’t see past my mask I assumed that my disguise was good enough and didn’t give it another thought. She had known me for hundreds of years before she met the Red Devil. She should have known.”
“But she didn’t.”
“No.” His gaze moved over my features. “But you did.”
“By the way, I’m fairly furious with you and I have about a billion more questions, so if you wouldn’t mind—”
He kissed me and it took me by surprise, but not in a bad way. I wrapped my arms around him as the kiss deepened.
“I’ve missed you very much,” he murmured then. “I’ve wanted to see you but I’ve been fearful for your safety. I’ve wanted to touch you but I couldn’t.”
I smiled against his lips. “Well, you’re here now. And my blouse is currently on the floor. I think that’s probably a good sign that even though I’m still mad at you right now, touching is allowed.”
He leaned back and placed his hands on either side of my face. “This will work out. All of this. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“Promises, promises.”
“It’s a promise and a vow.” His lips brushed mine again.
I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away so I could inspect his chest. I ran my fingers over the now rapidly healing wound. Only a small pink mark remained from where the knife had made contact. I kissed it before looking up at him again.
“See?” I said. “All better.”
“Your blood is as powerful as Gideon claims it is.” His expression shadowed. “It worries me deeply.”
I felt another chill as I remembered the look in Gideon’s eyes as I turned against him. He’d looked angry and disappointed with me—not a good combination.
I pressed my index finger against his lips. “Let’s think about that later, okay?”
“Why? Did you have other subjects for us to address at the moment?”
I nodded this time. “Actually, I do.”
He didn’t protest this time when I kissed him, no more talking about Gideon, or my curse, or anything like that. He was alive. He was okay. He knew I knew who he was and he knew how much I loved him.
But just to make sure, I led him to my microscopic bedroom and showed him. Twice.
Um. Make that three times.
He told me again how much he loved me as his mouth and body took me to the edge and back… however, he very politely kept his fangs to himself.
I didn’t care if he was old enough to have had the chance to see Romeo and Juliet performed on stage for the first time sitting next to Shakespeare himself, the man I loved had the stamina of a thirty-year-old.
Afterward, he held me in his arms and I explored his chest: muscled but lean, with a familiar old three-inch scar from where he’d been injured as a human. So faint that it was hard to see if you weren’t looking for it. I traced it with the tip of my finger.
“Now, no more secrets,” I said. “Tell me about the Red Devil. Let’s start with the main points.”
He threaded his fingers through my hair and pulled me closer to him. “I wasn’t the original Red Devil. It was Marcellus, Veronique’s lover from before I even met her. The night Marcellus died I learned his secret, and he entrusted me to destroy his papers, his identity. But I knew that the Red Devil couldn’t die. I wanted to co
ntinue with the same name and try to… try to—”
“Help others,” I finished for him.
“That was the original plan.”
“Does Veronique know this about Marcellus?” I’d heard enough about the guy from her before. She claimed he was her one true love. All her multitude of lovers since had paled in comparison to this Valentino vamp.
“I don’t think so. At least, she never gave any indication.”
“It’s all very Zorro. Very solitary Musketeer.”
“If you say so.”
“And you funded this all yourself? Without telling anyone?”
“No one has known.” He swallowed. “Until now. Obviously I’m very rusty after being out of commission for so long.”
“I think I still would have known.”
He looked at me incredulously. “I still cannot believe it.”
“Believe it. Why did you stop? You haven’t done the mask thing for a hundred years, right?”
His jaw tensed. “It was after what happened with Elizabeth.”
I remembered the name. Elizabeth was Thierry’s friend’s wife who wanted to have an affair with Thierry a century ago, but it didn’t turn out the way she’d planned. When she used her own blood to try to seduce him, it backfired—due to his blood addiction—and he nearly drained her. She ran from the bloodthirsty Thierry into a pack of hunters who killed her without a second thought. Thierry felt it was his fault, and the guilt had stayed with him all of these years.
“It was then I knew that the Red Devil caused more harm than good. That perhaps it was safer to stay hidden than charge headfirst into danger.”
“Not safer for you, safer for others, you mean.”
He wouldn’t meet my gaze anymore. “That’s right.”
I studied his tense, haunted expression. “What’s the problem?”
He shook his head. “No problem. I don’t usually share so much.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”