CHAPTER EIGHT
The further Michael traveled from József's house, the less he really cared if he were recognized by the police. There was no cell built by human hands that could hold him, he realized. Vampires couldn't pursue him in daylight and the lycans were strangely absent. In retrospect, he realized he had been struggling to keep from going under for the better part of three years. He had been sleepwalking, just getting by. Now he had awakened to the most fantastical, most life-altering thing he could have imagined. It was bewildering, but more than that, it was liberating. His eyes were opening and every cell of his body was beginning to vibrate. It was as if he were watching his life played out on a screen and someone had just wrenched up the sound and adjusted the color several shades too bright. But God, it felt good. It felt more than good. He couldn't remember the last time he had been totally present in his own life.
Michael, it turned out, was a gentleman, truly a reflection of his upbringing. He was patient and he was unfailingly kind. He did not even smile when it became obvious that Selene was not in the habit of purchasing her own clothing. She had lived so far removed from human interaction for so long that the simple act of buying clothing was beyond her. She accepted everything he chose for her except the coat he held up for her inspection. "I like this one better," was all she said. She handed him money and walked away; she didn't have the patience for interactions with humans. He paid for everything and was startled when the saleswoman let her fingers deliberately linger on his. That had never happened to him in his life. Perplexed, he wondered if it was all in his mind.
"You'll get used to it," Selene said flatly when he found her outside the small shop.
He stared at her in amazement. Had she read his mind? Had she been reading it all along…all the hours they had spent together? God, he sincerely hoped not. The fevered thoughts he had about her were embarrassing enough to him, he'd just as soon not have her pluck them from his head.
"Humans don't know what they are seeing, but they sense it just the same. You are different to them and they are attracted to you. You're something from a grimoire, from the old stories of vampyr. If that woman watched you long enough, she'd be afraid of you. Your gestures, your movements….they're a little too fast, a little too exact. I don't know if that's true for lycans too, but it probably is. You are a mythical creature now, Michael. That woman wanted you badly and she's standing in that shop right now trying to figure out why."
He had absolutely no idea how to respond to that knowledge. He hoisted his backpack higher and suddenly felt close to tears, yet he was smiling. He walked a few steps and then stopped, not knowing how to proceed. He felt as if he had been given hours to live and told that he must memorize everything around him, must commit it all to memory.
He fell in love with an old couple who passed him, deep in conversation. Their tissue-thin skin was exquisite and as delicate as spun sugar. Their conversation faltered as he caught their eye. He was entranced with a tall blond mother who crossed the street in front of him, her dark-eyed baby staring solemnly back at him from out of a yellow coat. He could smell the perfume of women who were walking up and down the sidewalk, intent on their journeys. Their scents floated to him, caressing his face. They turned to look at him as they passed, their hair blowing in the wind.
He wondered why he had never before realized how frankly sensual a gold bracelet could be when worn about the wrist of man…the wiry hair on the back of his hand and wrist curling over the shining metal. He gazed at the man in absolute rapture as he passed and the man's eyes widened, wary but intrigued. Michael didn't know it, but his mouth was open slightly and he was in danger of dropping the things he held. He wanted to embrace the entire street, to absorb the very things that made them each unique…and also the things that made them all the same. He was…he wanted…
Selene leaned close to him and whispered, "This is why you must feed. You're going to end up beguiling this whole street and then where will we be?"
Suddenly he remembered the first time he had seen Selene, how she had looked more beautiful than anything he had ever laid eyes on. How he had not been able to look away. He had been staring at her shimmering skin and he had been fighting a very real and deeply compelling urge to approach and touch her. Had she been seducing him that night without realizing it, just because she needed to feed?
Michael's gaze drifted from the surging humanity. Selene's voice seemed to be coming to him from a very great distance. He blinked several times and leaned down to her, concentrating on her moving lips. Slowly, things came back into focus. His voice shaking, Michael said, "We need to find a room. I think I'm falling in love with this entire neighborhood. I may be mythical, but I am not spending the night in this. I have limits. I'm overwhelmed and I'm losing control."
He began to walk quickly, keeping his eyes on the ground. "How much money do you have left?" Michael asked as they walked down the stairs leading to the Metro. "I know a place not far from here. A couple of guys I work…worked with…stayed there when they first came over from the States."
"You know that you could be recognized."
"Yes. That's a risk we are just going to have to take. Keep walking and let's not look like we're trying to hide something. Not that I'd have to tell you that. You're the expert, right?"
After they made their way through the late afternoon crowds and found seats on the speeding tram, Michael began to relax. Still, he focused his attention on Selene. He would not risk becoming overwhelmed again. Casting about for a topic of conversation, he turned to her and asked, "How does a vampire get money, anyway?"
Selene made a dismissive sound, "They go to someone like Kraven and lie when asked what they need it for."
"Lie?"
"Honestly, Michael, would you want to explain yourself to someone like him?"
"Why did you have to explain yourself to him in the first place?"
"Hierarchy," was all she said. She leaned her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes. He put his arm around her.
They disembarked on Raday utca. Selene was annoyed that the flat, which was on the fourth floor of a gorgeous art deco building, had a three night minimum. She handed money to the agent with an angry frown. She became impatient with a group of loud tourists speaking French and stalked off in search of the stairs. Michael shook his head and followed, wondering how vampires interacted with humans on any level at all. He caught up with Selene inside the stairwell and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs about his waist. "You don't smile enough," Michael told her as he kissed her throat. He carried her and their packages up the four flights to their rooms.
They had scarcely closed the door behind them before he was urging Selene out of her clothes, kneeling to unbuckle her boots. Together, they wrapped in a quilt and stood at the window, watching the snow fall. Michael laid his cheek against Selene's silky hair and listened to her breathe, thinking that he could stay that way and never move again. Something in her nearness was speaking to a part of him that he had believed was lost…a part he had stopped mourning and searching for because he believed it had died.
His naked skin was hot against Selene's as he held her. He began to burn for her but would not act upon it. Had he been enamored by the crowds because his senses were sharper or because he wanted to devour them? He wasn't sure. And did he now want to devour her? Again, he wasn't sure. Desperately, he began talking, his words a frantically built wall between him and his hunger.
"You know, it wasn't until I couldn't eat food anymore that I realized how much time is spent in pursuit of it," Michael said.
"Two weeks ago, I'd have asked you to dinner. I'd have moved my chair closer to you and you would have laughed when I offered you food from my plate. I'd have gotten turned on when you accepted it. We'd have had too many glasses of wine and stayed so late that I'd have slunk back to work with my head spinning, wondering how soon was too soon to call you. Or maybe I wouldn't have had that much nerve and I'd have asked you to coffee instead. I'd have walked around the block several times, wondering how to impress you. When I finally showed up, you would already be there, wondering why I was late. You know, you might have even thought exhaustion was sexy and smiled when I said I lived on caffeine. Maybe you would have taken pity on me and offered to meet me somewhere for breakfast after my next shift."
His words began to run together. "God, I'm going to miss good food or conversation over coffee! That's something we're not ever going to share. You haven't eaten food in hundreds of years and I'm not going to eat it ever again and..." He stopped, his thoughts a tangled heap.
Selene turned in the quilt and laid her head against his chest, his St. Stephen's medal cool against her cheek. He shuddered as her hands slowly moved down his back. Should she tell him now or should she lead him to bed and try to persuade him with her body? She knew he wanted her, even as he talked himself into an agitated corner. He was fairly throbbing with desire. She decided upon honesty. Anything else was unforgivably crude.
"You have to feed before we go out. You aren't strong enough or old enough to control your hunger."
"And why do we need to go out?"
"I want to look for members of my coven. Surely some of them survived. If there are any members of the council left, I want an audience with them."
"They aren't going to welcome you with open arms, Selene."
"No. But I have to approach them. I have to make them understand. I have to do it now, before they can convene and condemn me. I can't afford to wait. You're going to need to feed first."
He stiffened. "This isn't something you can ignore. It isn't going to go away. I'm sorry, but you are going to have to face facts," she said gently but firmly.
He dropped the quilt and stepped back, shaking his head. "We've been over this before. I can't do it."
"You have to!"
"No," he said. "I've spent years learning how to save people. I'm not going to start killing them now! I'm telling you, I can't do it. I can't."
She clutched his arm. "Stop. I'm not saying you should. I'm not asking you to run out of here and commit murder. We can't exactly break into Ziodex tonight and steal blood. That'll bring too much attention to ourselves. But maybe we can make do with what I found at the safe house. I took some."
"You did?" he sounded incredulous. "Where is it?" He loathed the note of eagerness in his voice. It disgusted him. He looked over Selene's head and tried to regain his composure.
She pointed to József's coat and shrugged. "I could have stored half the safe house in there and you wouldn't have noticed."
She motioned him to the sofa. "Just get it over with."
Michael sat down. He was breathing heavily and he was acutely aroused. His eyes were black as pitch. Selene handed him a pack of manufactured platelets and he stared at it, turning it over and over in his hands. She could hear his teeth grinding. Finally he looked up and shoved the pack toward her. "I can't do it," he said.
Selene ripped the bag open and drained it, her eyes never leaving his face. She dropped it beside the sofa and reached for him. He picked her up and buried his teeth in her neck. He carried her down the hall and into the small bedroom. He pushed the door open with his foot and it slammed against the wall. They fell into the bed together. Michael thought he heard singing from somewhere very far away. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with desire. Then he turned Selene's jaw aside and pressed his lips to her skin. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. The voices swelled, sweeter and closer to his enthralled ears.
Over the next two hours, Selene rose from the bed twice more and took blood from the coat. She swallowed the first pack and climbed back into bed, pressing the inside of her wrist to Michael's mouth. She knew his newly awakened body needed large quantities of blood as it continued to evolve. It would take the better part of a month before his transformation would be complete. She didn't know if that was also true for lycans, but she had witnessed vampire transformation. The second time she tore the pack open with her teeth and took the blood into her mouth. She kissed Michael, passing blood to him. He drew back for a moment, grimacing. His teeth were stained a rusty red. Seeing his indecision, she quickly pressed the bag to his lips. He put out a hand to stop her but she urged him on. He hesitated again and then he took the deep red bag from her. He would not look at her as he drank. He fell back against the pillows and put a hand over his eyes. Selene took the empty pack from him and quietly put it on the bedside table.
