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"You just have to let your mind go like you did in thedojo."
"Can't you just blockme?"
"Not everything. Your gift is that you can sense violent memories, either in objects or in us – see our kills. I can try to block other memories, but not of my kills or anything associated withthem."
"Some gift," I say and close my eyes. I blank my mind for a moment, focusing on my breathing, and when he enters my mind, I almost gasp from the connection that forms. It feels so intense and disorienting… I'm aware of his senses, as he leans over me, touching my hand. I can tell he doesn't want to look at me, but can't help watch my face, his eyes moving over my mouth with a sense of longing, going to my cheeks and remembering my dimples. His sense of regret that he can't – that he shouldn't – haveme.
"Concentrate," he says. "Focus."
Then I seem to fall into a memory, like I've tripped over the entrance to a deep well. When the memory comes into focus, it's late evening, moonlight, a woman with garish makeup and a low-cut bodice, and beneath it is a long skirt. She stands in a dark alley as if looking to turn a trick. Another century. London. 1896. I'm in his point of view, and I feel his feelings, think his thoughts as he experiencedthem.
That night, he's hot for human blood, and there's still a part of him that's reluctant to reveal how base that lust was and still is. He still lusts after humans, our bodies and our blood, and even now, getting one is almost all he can think of like some junkie for ahit.
But that night, he sees the whore standing there, her ample bosom and flesh suggesting she's full of blood. With only a tiny hint of remorse, he slips to her side and pulls her into the doorway in a dim alley before she can even protest. He's so fast, unnaturally fast, and in the dark she can't seehim.
His blood lust builds, his heart pounding, and the woman bared her neck, willing Michel to touch her. His eyes are so acute he can see the tiny capillaries in her fair skin. When he touches her, he feels her pulse like it's his own. But more than this, he searches her memories and relives them as he prepares to bite her and the memories are almost as important as the blood. He bites down, draining her blood, taking it in, lost in thesensations.
I feel everything he does – the woman's blood draining out of her and into him, warming him, the pleasure in the sensations so intense. He's reliving some memory from her past when she was happiest, in the arms of her first lover. I see and feel the moment just before the woman dies, her body going limp in Michel's arms. Then, just before the woman's heart stops, he drops her to the ground and is gone, no more than a shadow in the darkness, his bloodlust slaked but a renewed sense of self-revulsion building in hisconsciousness.
"That's enough," Michel says and I ignore him, not wanting to break the connection. I keep it between us, unwilling to stop and just like he says, he's unable to prevent me from staying. Despite what I've just witnessed, despite what I've just felt, every fiber in me screams out for him to let me continue. I want to prolong that moment of connection for as long as possible. I try to find more and he feels so much affection and desire for me but also guilt and fear and then he physically pulls back, blinking, stepping away and our connection breaks because we're no longer touching. He leans against the table and runs a hand through his hair, breathinghard.
Nothing I've ever experienced can match the need vampires feel for human blood, for that connection with the human is overwhelming. How they manage it and function, I have noidea.
I cover my face with my hands, trying to get hold of my emotions. Finally, I breathe normally and sit back up, avoiding Michel's eyes, my cheeks hot from the intimate moment weshared.
"I saw you kill a woman." I swallow as I remember the scene. "I felt it. London.1896."
"She was the last human I killed illegally," he says, his voice soft. "Now, like all other vampires who are part of the treaty, I subsist offdonors."
Terri pours me a glass of ice water from the pitcher. "You passed the test." She offers me the glass and I spill a bit in my eagerness to drink. Ed turns tome.
"Welcome to the Special Cases Unit of the Council of Clairveaux, Boston Division. You're hired," he says. "Not that there was ever any doubt once you beat poor Michel." Ed grins at me. "I think his pride is stillsmarting."
"Not at all," Michel says, not meeting my eyes. "If she couldn't beat me, she couldn't work as a witness." Then he does meet my eyes. "We need you, Eve. You must be able to protect yourself from my kind. You're very valuable. Vampires will kill each other to get you on theirside."
That's what Julien says. "Why?"
"You can kill us. Some want to use your kind as assassins against theirenemies."
Terri speaks up. "Michel can fill you in on the politics of this unit and why it started some other time. For the next six months, you'll train to be a blood witness. You'll help on special cases – those that involve vampires killing outside the law. You'll gather evidence to help us find those they work for. When we get a suspect, you'll read them – see their kills. Judge if they were sanctioned orillegal."
I shake my head. "I thought I was going to doresearch."
"You will, but you need to train as a blood witness, because you're very rare. When we get one, we don't letgo."
"I know it's a lot to take in," Ed says. "Come with me. I'll show you your new office." He leads me to a room at the back of the building. "The cubicle in the corner," he says and points to a small alcove by the window. I check it out. A small desk and filing cabinet. A laptop computer. A partition that separates me from the rest of the room. At least I have awindow.
"The case files for each murder are there as well as background information on the SCU are in the filing cabinet," he says. "Everything you need to get up to speed. I trust your university courses have made you a quick study." He buttons his jacket. "We'd usually just let you do some reading on your first day, but we have a new murder toinvestigate."
I raise my eyebrows. This is a surprise and I turn to see Michel standing in the office, leaning against the wall. He's put on his cassock-coat and has his hands in his pockets. He looks like a blue-eyed long-haired very pale Neo and I can't shake the sense that I've truly swallowed the red pill and there's no goingback.
O'Neil hands me the River Man case file. I opened it up once more, my hands shaking just a bit. I flip the pages, the crime scene photographs, autopsy diagrams, the witnesstestimony.
"Get your coat," Ed says and pulls on his trench. "We're going to the crimescene."
* * *
In the sedan,O'Neil reminds me to keep quiet around the Boston PD detectives and uniforms who are there on the scene. No mention of any special skills or ofvampires.
