16. Alexander
16
ALEXANDER
I waited, my finger tapping against the outside of my coat.
The door swung inward, and Michael stood there, holding the door and standing in my path to Emily. She was on the sofa, her hands on her knees, her eyes bright and wild. Full of life. It was painful to see, given what the book was doing to her.
The dog wasn’t in the vicinity. Doubtless, the creature would have lost its mind at the sight of me.
“Emily,” I said.
“What do you want, dude?” Mike asked. “We’re in the middle of something here.”
“Alex.” She got up and came over, her bare feet whispering across the tiles in his kitchen.
I despised my reaction to seeing her here. I wanted her safe, and she wasn’t in her apartment, protected by my wards. As much as Michael cared for her, he didn’t have the power to stop vampires from murdering her, kidnapping her, and forcing her to give them the book. And if they did that, she was dead anyway.
There has to be another way.
But my research had turned up nothing so far. I held out a hand to her, and she took it and came into the hall. She hugged me, and I looped a possessive arm around her back, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
I cursed myself for wanting to touch her.
“Thanks for everything, Mike,” Emily said. “I’m good now. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to figure it out.”
“Sure,” Mike said, and shut the door.
“Figure what out?” I asked, as we walked back to her apartment.
“It’s going to sound silly,” Emily said, glancing up at me and stunning me with those beautiful blue eyes, “but I’m kind of convinced that the blood-stained library book I brought home has either made me sick or it’s cursed me. Or both.”
I entered her apartment behind her.
“There are just too many weird things happening. First, I get sick right after bringing it home, and then the bats, and the only time I feel good is either when I’m out of my apartment or when I’m with you.”
I froze. “When you’re with me.”
“Yes.”
“What about when you’re with Morgan? Or Mike?”
“I haven’t seen Morgan in a while, so I can’t tell, but when I’m around Mike, well, we’re usually outside of my apartment.”
Good news, given that I didn’t want him near her at all. But this was important. A test, even. “Do you mind if I call your friend over here?”
“Here? To the apartment? Now?”
“Yes,” I said. “I want to test if you feel better when he’s around. I will be standing out in the hall.”
“Wait.” Emily came closer. “Wait, you’re actually taking me seriously.”
“Of course.”
“But I’m telling you that I think some ancient journal is making me sick. That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”
“Ignoring signs and symptoms is crazy. Not testing out theories because you’re afraid other people will think poorly of you is crazy,” I said. “Besides, I’ve spent my fair share of time around the mundane.”
“You have?”
“Yes. Now, wait here.” I went over to Michael’s apartment. I didn’t want to engage with the mortal again, but this was a necessity. If Emily felt better around me, could it be that there was a way I could save her without turning her?
I knocked.
Michael cracked the door open, and his shoulders slumped at the sight of me, his upper lip curling. “What do you want?”
“I would like to invite you over to Emily’s apartment for a short time.”
“No thanks. I’d much rather read a book than watch you two get it on.” He made a move to close the door.
I slammed my palm into it and forced it open, careful not to use too much of my strength and give the game away. “I’m not requesting it for me. It’s for Emily. She’s ill. She’s sure that it’s the book making her sick.”
“Yeah. I heard all about it.” Mike rolled his eyes.
“She feels better when she’s around me,” I said. “I would like to test if she feels better when she’s around you. Or whether you feel ill in her apartment.” He wouldn’t, but it was a good enough excuse. “If she’s at risk of poisoning of some kind, we should act fast. We should call the … landlord.”
“The super.”
“Yeah.”
“Fine.” He exited into the hall and slammed his door shut.
We found Emily sitting on the sofa, clutching her stomach, sweat gathered on her brow again. She glared at the book, which was on the coffee table in front of her. “I had to fetch it,” she said, meeting my gaze. “I just felt compelled to go and fetch it, and I don’t know why, Alex.”
“Shit, Em, what the hell?” Michael rushed over to her and sat down. “You were fine five minutes ago.”
“Some placebo effect, huh?” She gave a weedy laugh then coughed. “Ouch. My stomach hurts.”
“I’ll be in the hall.” It killed me to walk out of the room and leave them alone in there together. I stood outside, waiting for five full minutes before I entered.
Emily lay down. Michael crouched next to her. “This is getting worse,” he said. “We should take her to the hospital.”
“Out.”
“What did you say to me?” Michael came over, swinging his arms like a glorified Neanderthal.
“I said that you should get out now. You’re not helping.”
“I'll call an ambulance.”
“Stop it,” Emily murmured. “Just listen to Alex. Leave, please.”
“Seriously? You’re going to—” Michael’s jaw clenched and he left, again, slamming the door behind him. And I’d thought I had a temper issue.
I moved over to the sofa and sat on the edge of it, taking Emily’s hand into mind. She sighed.
“It’s the strangest thing,” she whispered. “When you touch me, I feel so much better. I feel like I’m alive again.”
“Michael didn’t make you feel any better?”
“No,” she said.
“Perhaps,” I started, then cut off.
I can’t do this. I can’t tell her to give me the book when it might kill her faster. Or make her condition worse.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Alex, tell me,” she said.
“It’s nothing, Emily.” I bent and kissed her forehead, and she gave another of those happy, comforted sighs. My pulse lifted. I wanted nothing more than to make her feel better.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Something about you. Something that you like.”
You. “Solitude. ”
“Hmm. I like that too. It’s why I like books. It’s difficult for real life to intrude when it’s a book. You can just get lost in your own fantasy world.”
I nodded.
But fantasy worlds weren’t as lovely or as kind as they were in books. In real life, books could kill you as easily as they could entertain you.
“When I was little, after my parents died, I thought I was going to die as well,” she murmured, her lips parting to let the words slip past. “I used to think that if I prayed hard enough, I would die too and I could join them.”
I squeezed her hand at the thought. “What happened to them?”
“A car accident,” she said. “They died in a car accident. And my grandparents on my mother’s side didn’t want to take me, so I wound up in an orphanage, basically. It was a difficult time for me. I wanted so bad to go back to the way things were before they passed. Isn’t that funny?”
“What?” I asked.
“You can’t tell when you’re in the good times. Like, when you’re having them they feel normal, until things change and then you realize you didn’t appreciate the moments you had, the people around you, while they were still there.”
A tear rolled from her eye into the crook of her nose, and I swept it away.
“I guess that’s why you’re supposed to appreciate every moment or whatever cringey thing they say.” She laughed. “Hey, I am starting to feel better.”
“Good.” I lifted her off the sofa, holding her underneath her knees and behind her upper back.
She gasped. “Alex? What are you doing?”
“Taking you away from that book.” I walked her into her bedroom then laid her down on top of her sheets.
I locked the door and turned toward her. She smiled at me, the color returning to her cheeks .
“Yes,” she said. “It’s much easier to breathe when you’re around. But why? What’s happening? Do you think that book is actually cursed? Maybe I should just throw it—” She cut off the words catching in her mouth, and an alarmed expression passed over her fine features.
“Emily?”
“I couldn’t even say it. The thought of throwing the book—” Again, a choking noise. “I don’t think I can get rid of it.” Her eyes widened, and she struggled upright. “Alex, what am I going to do? This isn’t right. It can’t be real.”
“Don’t panic.” I drew closer to her and sat on the end of her bed. Being near her was torture enough already, especially after the shower I’d given her.
“How can I not panic? I mean, there’s a cursed book out there. Or maybe I’ve got some blood fever and I should go to the doctor?”
Tell her. “I’m not sure that would work. But if you want to go, I can take you.”
“What about your business? Your life?”
“I don’t have one,” I said.
“Everybody has a life.”
“Not me,” I replied. “I’m either working or here. And I prefer being here.”
“Alex.”
“Yes?”
“Please lie on the bed with me,” she whispered.
It was a request that was impossible to deny. I removed my coat and hung it from the hook on the back of her bedroom door, taking time with the movements, giving her the chance to rescind the invitation.
If I bit her, it would be over, but how was I going to do anything with her that didn’t involve my fangs? The restraint it would take would be nearly impossible. And if I bit her, I didn’t want her to forget. I wanted her to know what it meant.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I removed it and switched it off, setting it on her bedside table without checking who had been calling.
“Are you sure, Emily?”
“Of course,” she said.
I lay down beside her, awkwardly, on my back, and stared up at the ceiling. If I touched her now, there would be no going back for me.
“Alex? Did I do something wrong?”
“Why would you think that?” I grunted.
“Because you’re just lying there,” she said, coloring. “Earlier, you were, well—you were all over me. Literally.”
“I find you exceedingly difficult to resist,” I said.
“You seem to be handling it just fine now.” And then her hand snaked across my chest, fingers inching toward the buttons on my shirt.
I caught her wrist and held it, my finger and thumb looped around it easily. “You have no idea what you’re doing, Emily. I am not like the men you’ve been with before.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I still want you.”
The words were too much.
I pinned her hand above her head and rolled on top of her, bracing myself on my forearms, my forehead pressing against hers, and my breaths coming in hisses.
Control yourself.
My fangs itched to lengthen, but I kept them at bay by sheer force of will. And then I claimed her mouth.