Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
JULIAN
Maris was acting odd. Jumpy and scared. I could smell the fear rolling off her.
Sour and acrid, it changed the soothing scent of lemon and rose that I’ve associated with her.
I watch her now as we walk down the hall.
She’s holding my hand tightly and from the way she’s keeping my hand close to her side I’d think the fear I’m smelling is from the fear of losing me.
She squeezes my hand tighter. Maybe it is?
I stay silent and Maris brings me to the kitchen. She flips a switch and the warm yellow lighting of the overhead light floods the kitchen. It makes the windows look darker. Night is almost here.
“It’s just out back. Here’s the menus.” Maris grabs a stack off the counter and puts them on the table in front of me. “You pick. My treat tonight for, you know,” she says, pointing at my side.
“Right,” I tell her. I don’t have my shirt on. I tossed it to the side when I got up from the settee. I did it without thinking when I scented her fear. I wanted to get to her, to soothe her as fast as I could. I should hide the wound from her, make an effort but I don’t.
I want her to see that it’s gone. I put my hand down on my hip and her eyes follow. Her gaze lingers for a beat before she clears her throat and opens the back door. She has to see the wound is gone. I’m not even bothering to hide it now.
“Be back in a sec.”
She knows.
I watch as Maris slips out the back door and vanishes around the side of the house.
She could be running for help. Finding a way to get away from you, my subconscious tells me.
She could even be running back to town to tell everyone they were right about the vampire.
That I’ve healed too fast. That I have to be a monster.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I mutter. It’s true, it wouldn’t. That time in Bulgaria when I got sloppy comes to mind and then again in Paris when I thought I was in love with an opera singer. Rosanna killed her. Probably for the better considering it wasn’t love. It was lust. Hunger.
Not at all what I have with Maris.
In a vampire’s life there’s a one in a million chance they’ll ever find their mate.
The other half of their nonexistent soul.
I’ve met a few couples through the centuries to know it’s real.
There’s a shine to those pairs. Something that lights them up from the inside and makes you wonder if they somehow found a way to be human again.
A vampire’s fated mate is as close as we get to getting our soul back.
That’s what Maris is to me. My soul. My reason for being.
If it was anyone else but Maris that had just walked out the door, I’d be going after them.
I would stop them even if they swore they wouldn’t tell anyone they’d seen me heal completely.
The entire town saw me get stabbed today.
Even if they didn’t believe Maris outright, there would be questions, suspicions.
Both practically a death sentence if the Varcolacus found out I’d been so sloppy around humans.
But it’s not just anyone.
It’s Maris.
If she wants to bring the entire town down on my head in a murdering mob then that’s her right as my mate. My wife. My life's entire existence is hers. If life were a game, then mine is nothing but a dice in Maris’ hand, hers to throw when she pleases.
I’m not going anywhere so long as she’s here. I’m hers to do with as she sees fit.
I sink down into a chair and pull the menus towards me.
I’m debating between the merits of curry or dumplings when I hear Maris outside.
She’s on the back step, just in front of the door with a hand on the knob.
I hear the knob move, just the faint twist of her hand before it stops. She’s hesitating.
Maybe she did call for help. I wonder what would get here faster. Dumplings or the mob?
I look up when the door opens a few seconds later and see Maris. The second my eyes meet hers she drops her head and looks at the floor. Hmm, maybe she did call a mob in.
“Dumplings or curry?”
Maris’ head snaps up in surprise. “W-what?”
“Dumplings or curry?” I hold up the menus. “For dinner.”
“Oh, um, dumplings, I guess. They’re my granny’s favorite and the homemade kind. I haven’t had them in a long time.”
I nod and toss the other menu back onto the table. “Dumplings it is. Which are your favorite?”
Maris hesitates, comes forward a step and then another. She answers me when she’s standing beside the chair across from me. She puts a hand down on the back of the chair and bites her lip. She looks young right now, like a school girl, awkward and uncertain of herself.
“The pork,” she answers me, eyes going to my completely healed side. “The black bean noodles are good too.”
“I’ll get that, too.” I take out my phone and dial the number for the resturant and watch Maris. The phone is picked up on the second ring.
“Thank you for calling Beijing Noodle. Can I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to place a delivery order.”
“Sure thing, what’s your order?”
Maris and I watch each other while I order. She slips into the seat across from me and leans forwards, elbows on the table. Her eyes go back to my side while I order.
“An order of the black bean noodles, an order of the pork dumplings and an order of the tomato egg noodles.”
“Ohhh, those are my fave! Good choice. Can I have a name for the order and the address?”
I can see the gears turning in Maris’ mind.
She’s going over what happened today. The stabbing.
The blood. How she saw it with her own eyes, that maybe she’s misunderstood and if only she tries hard enough she can make sense of today, make it fit into place, like a puzzle piece that she can rearrange.
“Vesper House,” I say because I know they’ll know it. Everyone knows Maris, and besides, this house has a plaque which is one less than the number of stop lights Vesper Point boasts.
The other end of the line goes silent and there’s a nervous laugh. “But you’re not Maris.”
That’s not bad. I was wondering what the reaction would be when I gave her address for the delivery. I’ll take them being nosy.
“You’re right. I’m not.”
There’s another pause and the sound of them putting their hand over the phone to muffle it but it’s easy to hear what they’re saying with my hearing.
“There’s a man at Maris’ house….no, it’s not Billy!”
Billy. I squeeze my phone so tight that I feel it start to bend in my hand. I’m going to do more than scare Billy if he dares set foot on Maris’ property.
“The doctor?! Get out.”
That’s more fucking like it. Yes, the doctor. Between me getting stabbed and this delivery drama, the entire town better know that I’m Maris’ or I’m going to be fucking livid.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I ask.
“Oh! Um, s-sorry. Yeah, we can have the order that way. Just give us ten.”
“That’s perfect. How much is it?”
“Thirty even.”
“Great. Thank you. Goodbye,” I start to hang up the phone but stop when I hear the worker blurt out.
“You’re the doctor, right? The new one at the hospital?”
I think about hanging up the phone so I can be alone with Maris and get to work ripping the bandaid off of explaining to her what I am and what we are, and most importantly, who she is to me. I don’t, though. I hit the speaker button instead and set the phone on the table between us.
I cross my arms and lean back in my chair while Maris looks between me and the phone in confusion. “Yes, I am the new doctor in town. I’m Doctor Julian Vale. Pleased to meet you.” Realization dawns on her beautiful face when she realizes what they asked me.
There’s another hushed giggle before they answer. “So, are you two dating then?”
Maris’ eyes go wide and she lunges forward to grab the phone but I’m faster than her.
Much, much faster than her. I’m already standing by the time she gets anywhere near the phone.
It’s an easy enough task to catch her hands before she grabs the phone.
Maris pulls, trying to get free, a futile effort, but I don’t tell her that.
My wife is a murderess after all, that would just make her fight harder.
I slide my fingers between hers and hold her hands while I answer. “Yes, we are.”
“Julian!” Maris yelps.
“I told you so!” Someone laughs before I drop one of her hands and end the call.
“Why did you say that?” Maris whispers. I’m still holding her hand and I give it a squeeze while she looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head.
“Because we are,” I tell her.
Maris shakes her head. “Julian, I don’t understand what’s going on. I like you, you know I do and after today with the knife…no one’s ever done something like that for me but we’re not dating. I don’t even know you.”
I sigh. Humans get hung on the order of things.
The need for formalities and ‘what are we’ talks ad nauseum, I’ve seen it throughout my life.
People will be on their death beds trying to clarify the parameters and boundaries of their intimate relationships.
Maybe it’s the fact that they’re so fragile, so human, that they want to control some aspect of their lives.
When death can sweep you away so easily, the comfort of having order somewhere in your life must be a necessity.
I wouldn’t know. I’ve been dead for far too long to remember what that feels like…although, with finding Maris I think I’m as close to understanding urgency as I’ve ever been.
“We just met, Julian. You don’t even know me.
” Maris moves to the side like she’s going to try and find a way around me.
I kick the side of her chair, sending her a foot out from the table and drop to my knees in front of her.
I’m not holding her hand anymore. I reach forward and put my hands on either side of her seat and pull her into me.
Her knees push up against my chest. It’s only when she’s where I want here that I lean back to look up at her do I speak.
“I know you. My soul knows you, Maris. I have looked a very long time for you. I have searched for you in every face I’ve seen. I did not dare dream that I would ever find you. There is no other soul in this world or the next that matters to me. Only you. Just you.”
“Julian.” Maris has stopped looking like she’s trying to get away.
She leans forward, the dig of her knees into my chest sharpens.
Her dark eyes move over my face and then lower to my chest. She reaches a hand down and touches my chest, her touch is featherlight, fingers just skimming my body.
I’m practically purring with satisfaction when she touches me with her other hand too.
This one slowly moves up my cheek and into my hair.
There’s a slight tug as she sinks her fingers into my hair and cradles my head in her hand.
Vampires are dominate by nature, predators that calculate their next move five steps in advance to never leave themselves open to attack.
What I’m doing now? Giving up my dominance to Maris, no not giving it up, I’m handing it over to her on a silver platter.
Submitting eagerly. There’s not another vampire I can think of that would do this.
They would never let a human have this kind of power over them, and never would they put themselves on their knees like I am, but I do it with a smile on my face.
I will. For her.
Maris swallows hard and presses her palm flat to my chest. Her fingers are warm on my skin. I drink it up, let her warmth soak right into me like it belongs there.
“You’re not human,” she says finally.
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Kill you? If I had to damn the world to save you, to even be with you for this one night, I would happily do it.” I move forward then.
Maris gasps but doesn’t drop her hold on me, in fact the woman holds on tighter.
The hand in my hair twists and pulls, the sting of it adds the sweet edge I expected from Maris.
“I would never harm you. My life is yours, do you understand me? I do not live without you. I would not live if you willed it that way. I am yours and fuck this world if you are not mine.” I grip the edges of her seat and the wood creaks beneath my grip asI look up at the woman meant to be mine.
“We’re mates, Maris.”