from one another. And, since that’s the case, you’re each likely to interpret what you receive according to your own expectations – not unlike the human tendency to project personal fears and patterns onto others.”
Yvonne’s chin jutted into the air and her eyes narrowed. “I see no reason to be insulting, Doctor.” She arched a perfect eyebrow. “You can’t possibly compare my superior experience with anything about a – a food source. Their minds are less than a century old; they’re – barely formed. What could they possibly know about the art and craft of telepathy?” Her lavender eyes darkened. “How would you--?”
Feeling momentarily like an entrée, I shifted forward in my seat and raised a hand, palm out. “Yes, we’ve discussed this before and I understand your position. But my point is that you might be misunderstanding – misinterpreting – whatever you’re picking up from Falcon’s mind. Perhaps you should ask him what you wish to know?”
Yvonne shrugged gracefully. “You expect a man who has spent centuries lying to tell me the truth about anything?”
I turned my attention to the man in question. “Falcon, would you like to respond to Yvonne’s comment?”
He crossed his legs and tapped a finger on the arm of the chair. The corners of his lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. “Doctor, I have explained to my lovely mate thousands of times that I have no need of anyone but her luscious self. I can’t be held responsible for other women throwing themselves at me. I always do my very best to extricate myself without bruising feelings or giving false hope. I am utterly faithful.” He said the last four words with academy-award-winning innocence, using his mesmerizing vampire voice to attempt to sway me to his cause. Luckily, I’d built up my defenses. Having my own psychic abilities had finally begun to pay off.
“Ha!” Yvonne exploded, twisting her body in his direction. Her canines descended slightly, causing certain words to be slurred. “You wouldn’t know faithful if you snagged a fang on it. And stop trying to entrance the therapist! I only agreed to come to therapy if you didn’t try any of your tricks.” She scowled, giving him a steely gaze. “Where were you all day? You weren’t in your coffin when I awoke.”
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, staring at Yvonne. “I told you. I had to work late. The production . . .” He turned to me, his voice oozing charm, “We’re doing Phantom of the Opera, and I am privileged to have the lead role.” He gave a quick bow of his head then shifted his gaze back to his angry mate. “We rehearsed until dawn, and I retired to one of the theater’s extra coffins. Surely, you’d prefer to have me safely tucked away, rather than melting in the rays of the sun?”
Yvonne suddenly stood and glared at him, fists balled at her sides. “You weren’t at the theater. I teleported there immediately upon awakening and Jacques – who, unlike someone I could mention, would do anything for me – said he’d seen you leave with that long-fanged hussy, Marie, after the rehearsal. Do you deny it?”
Uh oh. The gloves are off, and the blood’s about to hit the fan.
“Yvonne, please.” I moved in front of her, making a valiant attempt to regain control of the session. I almost touched her arm before remembering she’d perceive it as a threatening gesture, which would be very bad since she was already in a dangerous mood. “Please sit. I know talking can be frustrating, but creating good communication is worth whatever discomfort we have to endure. You said you wanted to save your relationship.”
She snarled at Falcon, who slid his gaze to me and winked. Turning her narrowed eyes in my direction, she paused a few heartbeats before reclaiming her seat.
Note to self: Vampires have mood swings. Are there undead hormones? Bloodsucking PMS?
I sank into my chair and released the breath I’d been holding. “Falcon, would you care to respond to Yvonne’s concerns?”
Annoyance and guilt fought for supremacy on his face. He gave me only a couple of seconds to wonder which role he would assume and I wasn’t surprised by his choice. His expression became a mask of wounded indignation. He placed his palm against his unbeating heart. “I am hurt and shocked that you would doubt my word. I did, indeed, spend the day at the theater. Your . . . friend . . . Jacques was either mistaken, or he misled you on purpose.” He pressed his lips tightly together, grasping the arms of the chair so fiercely that he left indentations in the wood. “I know he wants you for himself, the foul, snaggle-fanged troll!”
A low growl burst from his throat as he leapt to his feet. “I have seen that poser put his hands on what is mine. How dare he overstep his bounds!” Falcon’s eyes transformed from their usual lovely copper to a deep red. His chest rose and fell with the unnatural breaths that only occur in vampires when they’re very aroused.
Shit, he’s got red eyes. I don’t suppose Visine would help? What the hell do I do now?
Yvonne was obviously enjoying his performance. She basked in Falcon’s emotional outburst, a wicked Cheshire cat smile blossoming on her face. Her own lavender irises were ringed with silver.
I cleared my throat and rose to my feet again. I took some deep breaths myself to slow my frantic heart rate – not that I could ever fool them anyway – and stared at the handsome demon looming over me, with his fangs fully descended. “Falcon, thank you so much for being courageous enough to share your feelings with us. We both felt the sincerity of your words.” I paused, realizing I’d inadvertently angled the pulsing vein in my neck closer to his mouth, and hoped I hadn’t made a fatal error. I heard the breathiness in my voice and knew they could sense my fear. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”
He ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair and straightened his suit jacket. Slanting a quick glance at me before turning his red glare to his mate, he sat, frowning. “I believe I have expressed myself sufficiently for the moment. I’d really like to hear Yvonne’s reply to my statements.” He crossed his legs again and folded his manicured hands in his lap.
Holy shit. Welcome to “As The Coffin Turns.”
I cleared my throat and shifted my gaze to the very-pleased vampire on the couch. “Yvonne? Would you address Falcon’s concerns?”
The grin on her face could only be described as evil. “He’s merely trying to distract me from the fact that he’s been screwing every blood-whore in the theater company. While it might be true that Jacques lusts after me, Falcon knows I haven’t tasted that particular wine.” She narrowed her eyes and gazed at the love of her long life. “Not that I wouldn’t consider it under the right circumstances.”
Falcon lurched out of his chair, snarling, exposing all his teeth. Flashing crimson eyes dominated his pale face. He didn’t look nearly as handsome in his pissed-off vampire role. I didn’t think I’d ever seen fangs as long and sharp as his; they were truly lethal weapons.
I took an unconscious step backwards, bumping into my chair.
Jesus. I am so not trained for this.
Fighting my own increasing anxiety, I struggled to relax, and wracked my brain for a standard couples technique to ease the tension and move the session in a positive direction. I opted for a simple Gestalt process, and breathed deeply to calm the nervousness I was sure they could sense.
“Falcon, would you be willing to participate in a therapeutic exercise with Yvonne?” I focused on keeping my hands from trembling.
He sneered, Elvis style, the red of his eyes diminishing. “That depends on what it is.”
I switched my gaze to Yvonne, who watched me as if I were an interesting specimen or an unexpected snack. “Yvonne, are you willing to share?”
The question obviously surprised her because her eyebrows rose and she tilted her head to the side. “Share?” She paused for a few seconds, as if the concept was unfamiliar. I had no doubt vampires had a different – bloody – definition for that word. She studied me from beneath her dark eyelashes. “Share what?”
“Just a few feelings and emotions. Let me set the stage, so to speak.” I moved quickly to an open area in the center of the room, pulled two
chairs together, and arranged the seats to face each other.
Keeping my voice light, I stood behind the chairs, spreading my arms wide like a game show model. “Okay, if you’ll both come here and sit, we can begin.” I tapped the tops of the chairs with my fingers. Seconds passed like hours. The two of them were so utterly still it was impossible to feel their presence. If my eyes weren’t assuring me they were still staring at one another, I’d have believed I was alone in the room. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms rose and a low, snarling sound rent the air. I didn’t know which one of them was growling, but sensing that things were about to go south quickly, I moved between them – not the brightest choice, perhaps, but I was trying to keep the situation from escalating.
Great, Kismet. Nothing like annoying two hungry predators.
“Are we ready? Come on, you two. Humor the therapist. I know you both want to have a healthy relationship, or at least that’s what you told me.” I pointed at the empty chairs. I didn’t know what I’d do if they continued to growl at each other, but my stars must have been auspiciously aligned, or my karma sufficiently balanced, because they drifted to the new seating arrangement.
I’d placed the chairs close enough together that there were only a few inches of space between their knees. My heart pounded so