Disclaimer: Writing fanfiction stories generally includes inherent admission as to lack of the ownership of the intellectual property said stories are based on. This case is no exception of the rule.
Summary: Sometimes a split-second decision can alter one's fate completely. And have consequences beyond one's wildest expectations. Alternative story beginning with the events of Heart of Fire.
Credit for betareading goes to Sherron, Marlana and Patricia Mitnacht.
M-rated version of this chapter is available on Twice Bitten.
Darkest Moments
Chapter XIV
Vicki dragged a lone shrimp through the last of the soy sauce, her eyes perusing the lines on the page of the book on her lap without really registering what she was reading. Henry was in his workspace, allegedly putting the final touches on his latest novel. She, however, knew that he hadn't drawn so much as a single line or written one word since she and Delphine had freed him from Mendoza's clutches. He hadn't fed that night either, or the previous one, and Vicki suspected he was wary about leaving the apartment.
On the outside, he remained calm, collected even, no doubt the stoic education of a sixteenth century prince shining through. The signs of the trauma he'd endured would show in little details an untrained eye might even miss. But Vicki, though not naturally prone to subtleties, had been through enough victim-handling courses at the Academy that, coupled with years of experience on the force, had taught her to spot the tell-tale marks of hidden suffering.
How many parents had she given the dreaded news of the loss of a child; how many hands had she held; how many fainting women had she caught in her arms; how many grieving friends and relatives had she interrogated; how many victims of abuse had she spoken to over the years? She had really lost count. But none had ever been through the kind of torture Henry had endured and none had ever borne the repercussions of grief locked so deeply beneath a deceptively casual façade.
Their recent living arrangements were quiet, with Henry more chivalrous than ever, attentive to her every wish and word, nagging her about eating and taking her vitamins and iron supplements while she couldn't threaten him with bodily harm so soon in the wake of what Mendoza did to him. Only, he didn't smile anymore, not really, not in any way that touched his eyes. And he avoided coming close to her or even looking at her sometimes. If Vicki knew anything about trauma, it should have been the other way around. After all, he had attacked her.
Strangely, she bore him no ill for that. The way she saw it, she had made her decision and stood by it. She refused to allow him guilt over it. But no amount of assuring him she was fine seemed to be able to relieve him of that. He was haunted by both guilt and the painful memories and she had no idea what kind of therapy could be available for an over four-hundred-eighty year old vampire.
In the afternoon, she had dug up every note on every assertiveness seminar she had ever attended as a cop, all the while cursing the little attention she had paid to those while on the force, always making fun of the shrinks holding them and going mostly so she could gorge on free coffee. And some had had good coffee! None of that was helping now!
Standing, she set the book aside and gathered the food containers. On her way back from the kitchen, she stopped in the bathroom adjoining Henry's lavish guest bedroom. Flipping her ponytail to the side, she studied the bites just above her carotid artery. They were closed and almost fully healed, but the skin surrounding them was still bruised, albeit faintly. She poked at the bruises with her finger but felt no pain. She lifted her left wrist and studied the light golden skin stretching over bluish veins. The bites marks were right above the demon tattoo, two sets of perfectly round, slightly discoloured scars. Barely visible.
That bite had hurt too, a sharp burning sensation travelling up her arm then spiking into a peaking arousal laced with euphoria as he had sucked on her blood. The rhythm of his suckling had matched the one of her heart, whispering hypnotically promises of greater ecstasy if she just let go and allowed him to take it all. She had succumbed and when he had wrenched her hand away from his mouth, she had tried to push it back, almost willing him to have more, to have it all.
Her fingers wandered on the skin of her neck. The second time, she had felt only pain, the intensity of his need and the savage nature of the predator no longer lurking, but clear, at the surface, overwhelming her senses. She would have let him have it all that time too, though her reasons were different altogether. Then it struck her.
On both occasions she had acutely felt his pain and need. When he fed, there was a connection. If she could convince him to taste her blood again, maybe she could show him she didn't blame him for the attack. Maybe she could find out how he truly felt.
III
She found Henry by the large, plate-glass window of his living room, his back to her, staring outside at the darkened city below. He turned as she walked in and their eyes met across the room. His were darkened and distant, with no life to animate them. She licked her lips, remembering how she had struggled to make out his cheeky expression and carefree grin when lying on the dirty floor of the abandoned church;, as she had waited for him to take her life. She had failed, back then, and now that charming, grinning Henry seemed lost forever.
"Writer's block?" she asked.
A look of confusion crossed his face.
"Not feeling inspired to work on your book?"
"Oh… Something like that."
She stepped closer and saw him visibly stiffen so she stopped halfway across the room. "You going out to feed soon?"
"Maybe later. Did you enjoy your dinner?"
"Yeah, thanks. And before you ask, I took all my pills too… Mom."
He smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be overbearing, but it's important that your body recovers after the blood loss you've so recently suffered."
"Not so recently anymore, if you well remember, and I'm pretty sure my body already made up for all the lost blood. I've had a word with it about those dizzy spells."
His smile widened fully and he wasted no time in answering, "You would."
Seeing him more relaxed, she dared move closer. "How would you like to test my theory for yourself?"
Henry frowned slightly. "Your heart is beating regularly, if that's what you are asking."
"No, that's not what I had in mind. Since you've ordered me dinner in tonight, I thought it'd be only fair I supplied you your own."
His jaw set. "You can't be serious, Vicki."
"You know, if I were scared of you because of what happened when I let you feed off me the second time, I should be the one looking about to run for the hills just thinking of your fangs in my neck."
"Vicki, even if the circumstances of my previous feeding off you hadn't been what they were, it still would be too soon."
"No, it wouldn't! I feel fine. How many times do I have to repeat that to you?"
"You wouldn't be doing this just to prove to both of us you don't fear anyone, not even the vampire who nearly killed you, would you?"
"That's just it. You had me in your power, non-resisting, throat bared, and you didn't kill me! Doesn't this tell you something?"
The life returned to his eyes, blazing into a full flame so bright and intense Vicki felt it in her very core. Without thinking, she crossed the small distance separating them and placed her hands on the cold glass by his shoulders. They were so close their noses were almost touching. There was a hunger in the way he looked at her, but there was also something else, something that made her throat dry just at the hint of it.
"Vicki, I could never kill you," he whispered at last.
"I know. I told you once I trusted you with my life and I still do. Nothing has changed."
"Everything has changed."
She drew back a bit. "No."
Their eyes locked and for a few moments, their wills duelled in a silence she broke first. "Feed, Henry. We'll talk after." She arched her neck baring it to him.
He stroked his forefinger on the bruises his earlier bite had left behind, then reached and delicately pulled her blouse off her right shoulder. He bent and she saw a flash of fangs before feeling the familiar prickle of the bite. The small pain quickly gave away to a blooming pleasure that wrapped her in a softly-pulsing cocoon. She gasped, eyes closed, and let herself float away. Reality entered with a start as the pain was back for a short while when his fangs retracted. His tongue laved the wounds closed and her nerves buzzed with a lingering arousal. She sighed and stepped even closer, their bodies now touching.
"I don't want preferential treatment," she said, only a little hoarsely, and covered his mouth with hers. His eyes widened, startled, and he pulled back.
His lower lip trembled and a single world spilled from his mouth. "Why?"
Exactly the question she couldn't answer. She had never imagined that after all the months of relentless pursuit that he might not want her. But maybe he did and there was something else holding him back.
"Oh please, don't tell me this is not how it usually goes for you. You've hinted at it more than enough. Blood and sex. Sex or blood. Isn't this all a vampire feeding is all about?"
He looked downright appalled. "Sometimes, yes. But Vicki, I would never demand that of you."
"You don't have to. I was the one who offered, remember?"
"You didn't have to. The simple fact that you'd bare your neck for me again after what I did means more to me than you could possibly know."
"I don't have to, I want to."
She pressed her lips to his again and this time he relented. Very slowly, regarding her warily through only half-closed lids. Their lips meshed gently and her tongue probed at his mouth, licking and exploring as she drowned in his exquisite taste. Her hands sought his shoulders and grasped, fingers digging in the fabric of his t-shirt. She pulled him closer, while one of her hands dropped lower, taking hold of his right one and pressing it against her breast.
Henry broke the kiss and let his lips slide all over her face, caressing every inch of her skin. Her heart sped up and she moaned softly, pressing herself against him, twisting her fingers in his hair as a deft hand stroked the contours of her breast.
It was both bittersweet and exhilarating as he kissed her again, with more determination but no less tenderness. She could lose herself in the complete abandon with which he dedicated himself to getting acquainted with her mouth, savouring her as one would a ripe fruit. Her hands groped, finding their way under his shirt, finally able to feel the taught, cool flesh of his back.
Regretfully breaking the intimacy of their embrace, she took his hand and led him to his bedroom. Inside the lights were dimmed, candlelight decorating the walls with shadows and a pale orange glow. It smelled richly of jasmine and of him.
"I could turn the main light on, if you like." He said.
She shook her head. "It's ok."
The kiss happened naturally, as their lips met of their own accord, hands seeking each other and clasping together. Without exactly knowing how, she found herself on her back on the bed with him rising above her. The kiss… she wanted more of his kiss, of his hands on her breasts, as her t-shirt vanished, wanted to feel his skin on hers so she relentlessly pulled at his shirt until he helped her take it off him.
III
Vicki experimentally stretched in Henry's arms. She was feeling great despite certain parts of her body reminding her right now just how long it's been since they had last seen any exercise. She wiggled her hand free and proceeded to make an elaborate evolution that ended with her looking at her now-glowing watch without ever needing to move from her current position. When she did she was more than a little surprised at the fact that she had somehow managed to sleep away half of the night and a better part of the day.
Either the tension with Henry's cautious, withdrawn behaviour he displayed before he finally caved in last night was costing her more than she cared to admit or somehow Henry's trademark self-assured behaviour was actually an understatement. Not that she'd seen much of that behaviour since they freed him. She never thought she'd admit that, but she was beginning to miss it. She could only hope that last night would rectify that.
The light of her watch went out and the room was once again covered in darkness. She vaguely remembered that it was lit with candles before and wondered if they went out or if Henry blew them out before he surrendered to his daily sleep. Probably the latter. She couldn't imagine a vampire voluntarily going to sleep in a room with sources of open fire available.
For a moment she considered wiggling out of Henry's gentle embrace completely and getting up, but she discarded the thought. She was fine where she was and it was less than an hour till sunset. So why not draw from the situation while it lasted?
TBC