Page 17

There had been something unreal about the stranger. I found myself imagining all sorts of scenarios where things had turned out differently if the man with the curly hair hadn’t stepped in and taken him away. He would have come over to the table and introduced himself. We would have invited him to join us, of course. At some point, Emily would have made an excuse to leave, giving me a sly smile and a wink.

We would have talked about what we did for a living, our favorite current TV series, or maybe vacations we’d taken. Perhaps the conversation would have deepened, turning flirtatious. I would have looked at him in a way that was inviting, wanting. He may have responded in kind, or placed a hand on my thigh under the table.

It would have been wholly unlike me, but I would have accepted an invitation to his place, or maybe invited him home. He would have said yes, his hypnotic blue gaze heating. We would have made it just outside the door to the bar before he pulled me in for a kiss, our mouths crashing against one another. I would let my hands feel the hard muscle of his chest, slide under his coat and around his sides, and pull him closer. He would have gripped me just as tightly, his tongue delving into my mouth until we were interrupted by the arrival of our ride.

The whole way back to my house would have been an exercise in impossible restraint, trying to keep our hands off each other until we made it just inside my front door. I would have threaded my fingers into his long hair as he kissed me again, demanding more this time. And I would have given it to him.

As the fantasy played out in my mind, I let my hands glide across my body, imagining being touched and touching. In my vision, we undressed each other, and I reached lower, gripping myself, giving in to my desire for the handsome stranger. It didn’t take long. As I imagined kissing, sucking, and stroking one another, I moved my hand faster. I chased the feeling building at the base of my spine, craving release. And when it came, I pictured the man’s beautiful face, his sly smile, and the glint in his eyes.

9

VINCENT

Iregained consciousness sometime early the next evening. With my eyes closed, I moved my arms experimentally. They felt sore, and moving them was harder than it should have been, but I could still move them. I was in bed. The scent of soap and fresh linen mostly masked the faint trace of the previous night’s vileness, but it was still there.

Opening my eyes, I reached for the light controls beside the bed. Despite my body’s protests, I pushed myself up. Karl had somehow managed not only to get me back to my room but also to clean the filth from my body and get me into bed. I marveled at the effort it must have taken. I ran a hand through my damp hair, and a wave of gratitude for the man washed over me.

I rose from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. My progress was slow, but I eventually made it and leaned against the doorframe to look inside. Clean marble and fresh towels greeted me. There were no signs of what must have happened here while I was unconscious. I flicked on the lights and stood at the sink. Looking into the mirror, a stranger stared back at me.

The face was mine, but not quite. Deep, dark circles shadowed each of my eyes. My cheekbones jutted out, and my skin and lips were paler than usual. I wore only pajama bottoms, which hung off my protruding hip bones. I was bare-chested, and my arms and torso were clearly visible. I reached up and touched my chest in disbelief, leaning closer to the mirror for a better look.

The night before, while staring into the same mirror, my body had been muscular and toned, just as it had been for over two centuries. The reflection I now faced was that of a lean, thin man I didn’t recognize. I estimated that I’d lost more than a third of my muscle mass in less than twenty-four hours. Whatever had been wrong with me, it had taken an enormous amount of energy to remedy.

Shuffling into my dressing room, I pulled on a pair of soft athletic pants, cinching the waist so they wouldn’t fall down, and a fresh T-shirt. I tried to get used to the shirt’s new, baggy fit. With every movement, my muscles felt easier to use. By the time I was dressed, I felt more like myself, only much, much weaker.

I went to the door of my rooms and found it unbolted. I paused; a momentary surge of panic seized me. It made sense. There was no way for Karl to lock the door from the outside. But I hadn’t slept unsecured in over a century, and the thought that the door had been unlocked all day made me uneasy.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I opened the door. Moving the great weight took more effort than I was accustomed to. Distracted by my loss of strength, I nearly tripped over Karl, who sat just outside, his back to the door and his knees drawn up.

Karl looked up as I stepped around him. His eyes were bloodshot, his appearance disheveled, and he gripped a gun in his right hand.

“I hope that isn’t for me,” I said.

Karl blinked and shook his head. “You’re okay?” he asked, his voice coarse with exhaustion and worry.

I crouched in front of him and peered into his face. Karl had changed clothes and showered, but despite his efforts, he looked almost as bad as I felt.

“I’ll be okay. I think. Have you been out here all day?”

“Just about. I did what I could for you and thought it was best to wait out here,” he said, holding up the gun. “I wasn’t sure whether we should expect trouble, and I couldn’t lock your door…”

“I owe you my life,” I said. “But this wasn’t an attack. I was sick, and I would have died in that room if you hadn’t dragged me out of it.”

I stood, stepping back to allow Karl space to get to his feet.

He tucked the gun into a pocket of his wrinkled suit jacket. “I tried to call your friend Nathaniel,” he said. He must have seen the confusion on my face because he went on to explain. “Nathaniel’s been trying to reach you all week. When he couldn’t get in touch with you, he started calling my phone, so I had his number. I left his messages on your desk.” Karl cleared his throat. “Anyway, I thought he might know what to do about… I couldn’t reach him, however. I hope I did the right thing.”

“Yes, you did. He couldn’t have done more for me than you did, though.” I sighed, leaned back against the wall for support, feeling lightheaded.

“Sir, maybe you should get back to bed. Now that you’re awake, I’ll clean up the rest.”

I listened for a few seconds. Aside from Karl’s, I heard no other heartbeats in the apartment and no movement. “Are we alone?” I asked, just to be sure.

A look of hesitation crossed Karl’s face. “Yes, I thought it was best to give the others some time off,” he said. “At least until everything is taken care of. Do you need anything? Should I call someone?”

“No. That was a good idea.” I ran a hand through my hair. There was hardly a good way to explain all this to Karl, let alone the rest of the staff. “I know you must be tired, too. I can clean up the study later. Go home and get some rest.”

Karl relaxed at my suggestion. But before he could respond, his phone rang. Karl pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s Nathaniel. Would you like to take it, sir?” he asked, holding out the phone.