Chapter 34 – Playing the Cards
Helen sat at Nikola's reserved table at the restaurant. The Maitre'D was hardly surprised when she had told him whose party she was joining and Helen wondered if Nikola entertained here regularly...with other women…with Rose.
The name was like acid on her tongue. Rose. Rose who? The Actress? How could he fall in love with someone like that, so base, so morally barren. Her kind of women were one step up from the women that entertained men for a fee…and this one, with her red hair, and long legs, and bright green eyes that showed no hint of shame despite her widely displayed parts. How could Nikola find enjoyment in her? He had always been attracted to the intelligent, independent, scientifically minded…blonde curly hair…
Helen shook her head.
She didn't care. As he said, it wasn't her business who Nikola wasted his time with. If he wanted to spend time with Rose the Theatre Slut that was his own prerogative, she was going to have lunch with him, and that was all.
She checked her watch. Where was he, he was normally so punctual to the point of obsessive habit. He was nearly five minutes late.
She felt his presence before she saw him, and her head snapped in his direction. His hair was slicked back, mustache combed and trimmed, and dressed dark clean suit. Her heart skipped slightly, but she shook her head. What was wrong with her?
He handed his coat and hat to the coat check, but she could feel his eyes on her. He saw her; she wondered if he'd caught her staring. She kept her hands together in her lap, twiddling the thumbs slightly as he approached the table.
"Helen, thank you for coming," he said casually, as if she were another one of his business partners. She hated it.
"Well you promised me an explanation," she said coolly, trying not to give away her warring emotions at seeing her old friend.
"I did, didn't I?" he said calmly. "But first, a drink."
He signaled to the waiter and ordered a glass of wine for himself.
"Anything for the lady?" asked the young man.
"Tea, please," she said equally as calm. She had no idea why he was acting like this, was it for appearances sake, or had he forgotten their awkward encounter the night before?
"Now that that's settled, I recommend the soup, it's quite good," he opened the menu.
Helen rolled her eyes.
"Nikola, please spare me the charade. I came here for a reason, just get on with it," she glared at him, her blue eyes fierce and impatient.
Nikola met her gaze, his glance placid and unnerved.
"Step one: First impressions. Wear your best suit, look your best, and break all your normal convention and arrive a few minutes later than the prescribed time. When you arrive, don't panic, remain calm and collected, casually hand your coat to the coat check, stroll unapologetically to the table, greet her as if you had planned to arrive at this time, treat her like an associate. She will not be expecting that from you and it will put her on high alert, combined with the feelings from last night, she'll be flustered."
"And that will serve to…"
"Break the patterns she has grown accustomed to around you, think of it as opening a door. Step one is approaching the door from an angle it doesn't expect."
"Nikola?" Helen kept her eyes locked on his, trying to read his expression.
"As you wish, Helen, I will explain, but there is no use until we've at least ordered something. I will tell you whatever you want to know while it is being prepared," he said earnestly.
"Fine," Helen steeled herself, watching him suspiciously.
"Step two: Avoid talking about anything substantial until she has ordered her meal."
"So she can throw it at me when she hears something she doesn't like?"
"No, so she won't leave. If she is a lady of sense, as I've heard you describe, she will not leave until the meal is over. It goes against her nature. If there is nothing coming she could just walk out, then you would have to follow her and make a scene; you don't want that."
"So I don't talk to her?"
"Oh you do, but about trivial things like the weather, or the tablecloth, she will assume you are deflecting from the issue and demand that you stop. Once she does, you simply tell her to order first and you will explain as you wait."
"And then what?"
"That's when the fun begins…"
Nikola handed the menu to the waiter and leaned back in his chair as Helen did the same. The waiter lowered their beverages before them and left, leaving them in a tense silence.
Nikola grinned softly and reached for his wine, sipping it lightly before placing it back down on the table.
"Mmm, good year," he thoughtfully pondered the flavor.
Helen watched his every move, waiting patiently for him to explain his behavior, his change in personality, his fraternization with that woman, anything that could inform her on who this man was sitting across from her. It was certainly not the young Serbian man she had befriended all those years ago. This was not her best friend.
"Nikola, what is this?" she remarked.
"It's called lunch," he smirked at her.
"Not that, I mean you, what are you doing?" she gestured to him.
"Helen, what are you talking about?" he looked at her passively.
"This! You've been acting strangely ever since last night. First, I find you drenched in whiskey, carrying the bottle like a drunkard, your appearance in shambles, then I learn you and this woman, this actress, are engaging in casual sex as if it as simple as going to the races, then this! You're not yourself Nikola, this woman has turned you into…"
"Someone else?" he offered.
"A stranger," she clarified. "I barely recognize you, Nikola. You're starting to act like those airheads you used to criticize for being spoiled arrogant unintelligent boors!"
"Helen, I assure you I am still myself, Rose has just simply brought out a side of me that you are not used to," he shrugged.
"This is much more than a side, this is a complete shift!" she cried.
"Helen, calm down, and I'll explain."
"Step 3: Have her convinced that you're under some kind of influence, she will most likely blame me, let her; she will think that I our activities have made you act this way. This will open the door to Step 4."
"Step 4?"
"The Proposition. Give her an enticing offer that she can't refuse, at least, not immediately."
"How?"
"Appeal to her intelligence."
Nikola held his wine glass in his fingers gently, his eyes still on Helen.
"My time with Rose has revealed a few things about myself to me, things I had never really considered until now," he started his explanation, watching Helen's reaction carefully. "I was bottling up my desires, my base urges, all for the sake of appearances. I've spent my early life trying to impress, trying to appear above the norm, and though I am certainly more evolved than most, this heritage bestowed to me by my ancient race has opened a whole new world of experience that I have yet to explore."
"Nikola?" Helen did not understand where he was going with this exactly.
"I've been cautious, Helen, afraid of being hurt or let down but I've come to realize…I'm immortal! You shoot me, I heal, you dash my dreams I can take them elsewhere. There are no obstacles, nothing to hold me back from what I want. I have the whole of time to make my mark!"
"So, this is why you've been acting differently?" Helen still eyed him suspiciously.
"Helen, think about it, you and I, we have the world before us, we saw the effect of the blood on your life. You will live a long time, just like me, we have free reign to fulfill dreams, take chances, and make mistakes."
Realization hit Helen…mistake? She caught what he was referring to. He was referring to their mistake, to their almost night of passion.
"Nikola…I," she tried to stop him.
"Helen, just think about it! Put behind all those sensibilities you were brought up with, we broke out of those shells the moment we injected ourselves with the source blood…Rose doesn't have nearly as much time as we do and she is living twice as much! She defies social convention, defies the principles of the old age, and does not fear her judgement."
He took Helen's hand in his.
"She does what she wants, with whom she wants," he leaned towards Helen, his mustache just tickling her ear. "I want you."
Helen's breath hitched in her throat at his words.
"Me, Nikola?" she was shocked at his silent proposition.
"Yes. I won't deny I have always found you beautiful; physically and mentally appealing, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship with these base desires," he spread her hand open, palm up, examining the lines of her hand. "And I think you understand."
He lowered his lips to her hand. Helen gasped at the contact, both shocked he would make such a bold gesture, and shocked because he was right, she had the same thoughts, the same desires.
She jerked her hand out of his grip, slightly embarrassed by the fact of them being in a very public place.
He just grinned.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said more harsh than she had intended.
He leaned back in his chair.
"I'm just posing an experiment, Helen. You remember our last one…you tasted delicious by the way," he smirked deviously.
"You bastard," she growled.
"Helen, you came to New York for a reason, and I think it was for more than the fact that you were worried about me," he looked at her pointedly.
"In fact, that is exactly the reason, and I still am," she drank a gulp of her now cold tea.
"Really? There isn't a part of you just aching to assist me in my…experiment, you can't deny you are a little curious. We almost did it once."
"That was under a completely different set of circumstances," she sighed.
"Well, then, here are mine. One night, one bottle, one time, one thought."
"Excuse me?"
"One night to settle down our base urges for each other, settle our burning curiosity. One bottle to share, you can pick. One time, this is not a permanent arrangement, no strings, no expectations, no promises, just you and me and the aforementioned."
"What's the one thought?" Helen asked cautiously.
"That will come afterwards," he said cryptically.
Helen sat there speechless. On one hand she was deeply disturbed that he would even propose such a thing, in a public venue no less. It was debaucherous, it was surreptitious, it went against every value she had been raised with, but on the other hand, she was deeply, deeply considering it.
John was the only man she had ever been with and thought she had only gone that far because she had been convinced that she and John were going to share a life together, full of love and lovemaking. What Nikola, her best friend in the world, was offering was a chance to remove that stain from her, a chance to break that shattered promise, to free her from John's hold on her.
And there was no better man to do it with. She trusted Nikola whole-heartedly, and she knew he would never hurt her intentionally, and she couldn't deny this side of him was mysterious, alluring and playful.
He offered one night, no attachments. It would be a moment placed outside of time, just for them.
She looked at Nikola and bit her lip in thought.
"Step five: well that's the easy part."
"What? What's step five?"
"She either agrees or she doesn't, you respond accordingly."
"What if she says no?"
"Then you return to normal and enjoy your meal with her."
"What if she says yes?"
Nikola fell against the door, Helen's hands pinning him against it, her lips commanding him to kiss her with all he had.
He fumbled in trying to fulfill her demands and lock the door at the same time. She gripped his cravat and pulled him up the long staircase. He followed willingly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pushing her against the wall, the uneven footing of the stairs putting him in the perfect position to nip at her neck. She gasped at the attack but slid her hands into his wild hair, enjoying the way it felt between her fingers.
She had never done something so juvenile as this, so chaotic and needy.
With John, it was an expression of love. With Nikola it was a culmination of her angers and frustrations, her needs, her desires, her hunger for those teeth in her skin, those claws against her back, those black eyes looking into her soul and tearing John out of it, like a tumor.
This was his gift to her, one night just to feel.
His human hand cupped her face, pulling her into a searing kiss.
God, why hadn't she done this sooner.
A part of her knew she had always wanted this, wanted the foreign genius with her, in her; he set every nerve on fire.
Nikola released her and gripped her hand, leading her further up the stairs to the top of the stairwell. Once she reached the top she pushed him roughly against the wall again. Her hands pulled open the buttons of his vest and sliding them into the warm space, feeling him through the thin fabric of his shirt.
He growled like an animal. He remembered how aggressive she could be when driven by desire. She was a born lover, as remarkable with her hands as she was with her mind.
Their lips mingled once more, sucking the air out of each other, trying to see who would break and gasp for air first.
He tugged her over to the door to his apartment, hands fumbling for the doorknob. The door opened and he pulled her through quickly, shutting it behind them and locking it.
"You promised a bottle," Helen said raggedly, her chest heaving with the ragged lust running through her system.
Nikola smirked and lifted a finger.
"Stay there," he rushed to find the bottle he'd been saving for a special occasion. This definitely qualified.
He returned and she had taken off her hat, gloves and coat and was proceeding to push her gown down over her hips. Nikola froze, god she was beautiful.
Her blue eyes caught him staring and she smiled.
"Enjoy what you see?" she said temptingly and he wetted his lips.
"Immensely," he walked over to her. She was still in her undergarments but even so, she was delectable.
He felt his fangs yearn to retract and taste the white supple skin it could see but he resisted and instead used them to pull the cork out of the bottle and take a large swig from it, then hand it to her.
She did the same, and her temporary distraction was enough for him to envelop her with his hands.
Oh if he had to wait three years or thirty to see her again it would be worth it. Tonight she was his, willingly.
She peeled his offending layers off his arms and let it drop to the floor. All her left was his undershirt and she was already tugging that out of his trousers.
Her hands trailed close, and he smirked, taking them in his and holding them away.
"We have all night for that, your mine till sun up, why go rushing things?" he teased and kissed her gently.
He lifted the bottle to his lips and took another sip.
She met his challenge and stole the bottle back.
"Afraid of ending too soon?" she teased.
He smirked, ooh she had a crude sense of humor sometimes, he loved it.
"I have plans," he wiggled his eyebrows, using his grip of one of her hands to spin her around so her back was against his chest. "Starting here."
He lowered his mouth to her neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh, enjoying her resounding gasp.
His hands removed the pins from her hair and shoved it aside.
"May I bite you?" he asked in a haughty whisper. She shuddered.
"Not there," she challenged.
Nikola smirked and turned her to face him before lowering to his knees and nuzzling her stomach.
"Here?" he asked simply.
She tried hard to suppress a groan.
"No," she said as evenly as she could.
He smirked against the fabric of her clothing and took one of her hands in his soft hands and peppered it with wet kisses till her came up to the wrist.
"Here?" he asked again,
"No," Helen shuddered.
He smirked, he of course knew where she wanted but he was being perfectly clear about the winner of this battle of wills.
Her violent tug of his hair indicated she knew as well, and wordlessly pleaded to stop this torture.
He obliged her and gently pushed up the underskirts to reveal her stocking-clad legs. The scent of her was like an old friend.
He unclipped the stockings and slid them down her leg to pool at her feet. She kicked them off.
He saw the remnant scars of his teeth in her flesh. That had been a moment of strained eroticism for him, but now he had full reign to make her feel whatever he wished.
He lightly kissed the skin of her thigh, and the scars, resulting in a sharp gasp from her. He noted that reaction but pulled away, letting her skirts fall back down.
He wasn't going to give her what she wanted, not now.
Her growl of frustration was delightful and he grinned triumphantly, sitting back on his haunches, pulling the wine from her hands and wetting his thirst with it.
She damn near knocked it out of his hands, and it splashed onto his face, ash his back hit the floor, the force of the shove leaving him dazed.
She straddled his hips and licked the alcohol off his face in long lazy strokes, then the alcohol saturated tongue pushed past his lips and met with another strong, heated kiss.
This woman was torture, sweet torture.
"If you play your cards right, Nikki, it won't be something she'll forget easily."
"She won't instantly fall in love with me."
"No, but once she knows what you can offer her, it will be only a matter of time."
"I have time."
The night rolled away, wave after wave, in a mindless pleasure-filled blur. Tongues fought tongues, skin against skin, kiss after kiss, until the morning rays fell across Nikola's eyelids.
He cracked his eyes open slowly, the fog of sleep over him, as he took the time to register the warm, pale entity lying next to him.
The bare expanse of her back lay open to him and he used the arm draped around her waist to pull her closer into his embrace, lowering his lips to the skin in a slow open-mouthed kiss.
She moaned sleepily, a dry chuckle escaping her lips.
"You look…absolutely delicious in the morning," he said softly, continuing his trail of kisses.
"And you're up way too early," she half-mumbled into the pillow.
He laughed weakly and rested his head against her skin, enjoying the way the sun hit this exact spot, warming everything up.
"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.
"Probably close to around 9:30, I don't know for sure, I'm just going by the position of the sun," he sighed, nuzzling her.
"Always the scientist," she laughed, rolling over to face him. "Your eyes are so pretty in the morning."
She caressed his cheek, feeling the rough stubble across his chin.
"Even your mustache looks attractive," she added jokingly.
"What is wrong with my mustache?" he laughed incredulously.
"After what you did last night, not a darn thing," she twirled the mustache playfully.
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her gently.
"You weren't so bad yourself," he teased, his arm still draped around her, putting him in the perfect position to pin her into the mattress and give her a decent kiss, tugging her warm naked body under his.
She responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his lithe torso.
His other hand situated itself in her curls, entangling them in the long red locks.
"Good morning, Miss Rose," he whispered after breaking the kiss.
"Good morning Mr. Tesla," Rose whispered back.
"You look ravishing, must you go to rehearsals?" he whined slightly, placing a few short kisses to her chin, neck, and collarbone.
"I must, but they aren't till noon…and I could use a wash, care to help?" she offered with a sly grin.
"I can't very well refuse, now can I?" he smirked.
"Well, it would be very ungentlemanly," she responded.
"And I am nothing if not a gentleman," he added.
"I'll get started on that hot water," she pushed him to the side and rose up off the bed, unashamed of her naked state and Nikola watched her leave with a playful eye.
He reached over to the other side of the bed and found the bottle of wine and glass her had left there the evening before, pouring himself a generous portion before getting up himself, pulling on his briefs.
It was nearly November, 1890.
He walked over to the small desk in the corner of the room, there were papers strewn across the top and he rifled through them absently. Most were memos from George, requesting blue prints, and requisitions on materials, a few cheques he'd yet to cash in, and a slightly crinkled playbill from the last performance he'd attended.
He gently grazed it and heard a sound of metal scratching against wood, coming from beneath the pamphlet.
He moved it aside and found a silver metal locket on chain.
Nikola lifted it gently in his free hand, examining it fondly, using the thumb to open it. There she was, frozen in time, her blonde hair, her sparkling blue eyes, promising more than they could offer.
He smirked sadly.
"Next time, Helen," he said to himself. "Next time."
"Nikki!" called Rose from the bathroom.
"Coming," he said, placing the locket back down on the desk, and turning to join his 'friend' in the adjoining room.
His thoughts still on the small face locked inside that locket.
He had time, and so had she. One day she would accept his offer of love as whole-heartedly as she had accepted John's.
If he played his cards right.