CHAPTER 74: AN UNEASY ALLIANCE
“Shall I take first shift?” Aimée asked, throwing another clump of moss into the shelter they had built from spruce branches. To keep the vampire from seeing how badly her hands were shaking, she made a point of casually rolling the pressure out of her shoulders from where he’d almost broken bones from squeezing her. Even after trekking through the heavy forest towards the vampire’s friend ‘Masaaki’ for the last three hours, her body still hurt from that inhuman grip. She was trying to act relaxed to keep the vampire from seeing how much his venom had affected her, but inwardly, a large, terrified part of her was chanting, Demon, demon, demon, enthralled by a demon….
“You might as well be sitting in a corner, arms around your knees, gibbering in terror,” the vampire sighed. He lowered his hands from where he had been adjusting a conifer branch, turning to face her, his gray eyes soft. “I told you, Inquisitor. It’s best if you just think of me like a really big crush you suddenly and unexpectedly discovered you have on a total stranger. I’m not gonna hurt you, not even a little, so please just chill. Your fear-stink is making me hungry, and your blood-pressure is lighting you up like a pastry.”
Aimée stiffened, her every nerve on edge that he could see her weakness. She had thought that she’d done a better job of hiding it.
“It wasn’t a splinter, remember?” he said, giving her a flat look.
Meaning he could sense her. Probably just as thoroughly as she felt the desire to be close to him. Even now, despite everything, she had sidled closer to him than strictly necessary, just to ease the tension in her chest. Aimée reddened and looked away.
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “I just warned you what to expect, is all.” He went back to adjusting the slanted roof of their structure.
Refusing to let him see her face burn, Aimée busied herself with collecting more moss for bedding. “You think this friend of yours can help us against Buðlungr?”
This time, it was the vampire who hesitated. “He’s a yatagarasu.”
Aimée froze and turned, despite herself. “A yatagarasu and a vampire? Friends?”
“It’s complicated,” Theo muttered.
“It’s unheard of,” she insisted. “Unless you enthralled him, too?”
“We were…uh…friends first. Sort of.” He actually sounded embarrassed.
Aimée let out the breath she was holding on the wave of understanding. “The queen.”
“He stopped me from killing her,” the vampire said. “He had…overextended himself…and needed some help.”
“Overextended how?”
The look of suspicion he gave her was enough to spike a surge of rage in her stomach. “You wanted me to trust you, vampire, and yet you won’t do the same?”
“Well, forgive me, but you spent the last…” He looked her up and down, considering, “…twenty years of your life hunting people like me.”
It had been twenty-four. Ever since she was fourteen and trapped her first selkie. His hide still hung on her wall in the Order’s enclave at Eklutna. Now, seeing this vampire who wasn’t torturing or killing her despite his every capability of doing so, she had the unconscious wonder if maybe that selkie, who had come out of the water and smiled at her as he offered her an oyster, had been like this vampire lord…
No, she thought, shaking her head. There are no good demons. The selkie had probably wanted to steal her into the sea, to break her spirit, turn her into one of them…
“You know, when you’re having that inner debate about whether I’m good or evil, you get this ridiculous little frown on your face. Right…” Grinning wide enough to show his inhuman fangs, the vampire poked her forehead between the eyes. “Here.”
Unbidden, Aimée’s knees almost went out from under her at the touch. She felt her heartbeat quicken, felt that surge of desire, that need for him to touch her again…
Immediately, the vampire looked abashed. “Sorry.” He quickly stepped away from her and cleared his throat. “So…yeah.” He glanced behind him at their meager shelter. There was room for two if they slept side-by-side, but neither one of them had envisioned that, regardless of how much Aimée’s body and mind screamed for it. “You can go first. After, uh, drinking from you, I…” He flushed, something Aimée wasn’t even aware was possible in a vampire. It looked so human… “I’m feeling pretty good.”
Aimée quenched the feeling of sickness that twisted in her guts at the idea that this…creature…had fed off her. That even now, it was digesting her…
Her soul to be more specific. Or, rather, the energy that her soul produced, but it was a minor detail. Either way, disgusting.
“And that,” he gestured to her face, “is the look you get when you re-realize you’re enthralled to a vampire.” He was studying her solemnly. “I’m sure it’s a lot like my look, when I’m re-realizing that I bound myself to an Inquisitor.” He cursed and shook his head. “What the hell was I thinking?”
“We’re alive, aren’t we?” Aimée demanded. Duke Buðlungr had been coming for them. She’d felt it. He’d been distant, but gaining fast.
“True,” Theo said, grimacing. “But at what cost?”
Aimée’s mouth fell open. “Who are you to talk about cost? It’s all I can do not to approach you and grind myself upon your body like a whore.”
“Believe me, it makes us both uncomfortable,” the vampire said. “I’ve never wanted to ditch a thrall so badly. Just leave ‘em tied to a tree and come back once a day with some food and water…”
The thought of that, of losing him, brought Aimée three steps in his direction before she managed to squash the fear. She forced herself to slow, then stop, but her entire body fought to get his assurance he wouldn’t do as he threatened and leave her there.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Theo said. “I’m not that kind of asshole.” He cocked his head at her, considering.
“Every démon is an asshole,” Aimée said, waving it off. “You cannot help it. It’s part of your despicable, unholy natures.”
His eyes started to sparkle in amusement and, teasingly, he quipped, “Though maybe it would be for the best…”
Aimée felt every fiber of her body stiffen as she fought another sudden urge to step closer to him at the thought of him abandoning her. “You…” she managed, realizing he was doing it on purpose, “…unconscionable dick! Va baiser le trou du cochon, monster!”
He seemed to take a moment to consider her words. Then, slowly, “I mean, neither of us wants to be here,” he said idly, watching her with mirth. “I could just—”
“Don’t you say it!” Aimée cried.
“—leave.”
She gasped and immediately closed the distance between them, pressing herself into him despite all attempts to regain control. As soon as their bodies touched, the pang of fear was replaced with a heady rush of relief and she melted into him.
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You press yourself against a vampire like his devoted pet. With that horrifying thought, Aimée scrambled to re-surface from the heady mix of emotions and looked up, the vampire was grinning down at her like a self-satisfied cat. He had not moved.
“Connard!” she shouted, backing away and brushing her chest where it had touched his.
“Then again,” he went on, plucking at conifer bark lazily, “In the last day, I’ve been blood-bound twice, ripped open to feed another lord, alerted to the fact my best friend was a buttfucking feylord, used as a punching bag, run over, and molested by an Inquisitor. I could just—”
Aimée had her dagger out and to his throat in an instant. “Say it,” she snarled over it. “I dare you, vampire.”
But he just grinned wider. “Kill myself.”
Aimée groaned and dropped her knife, leaning into him again. “Please,” she whispered, drawing in the pleasure of touching him, reveling in it, forcing back the agonizing fear of his untimely departure. “Mercy, démon. For the love of God tell me you’re not planning to kill yourself.” Just the thought…it left her unable to think of anything else, so strong was the panic.
“Theo. Say it.”
When she looked up, the amusement had fled the vampire’s face and now he gave her a hard stare. He still hadn’t moved, despite her body flexing against his.
“Theo,” she muttered into his chest.
“Not demon, not monster, not creature, not beast, not thing. Theo.”
“Theo!” she snapped, fisting her hands on his shirt. “Now tell me.”
He shrugged and stepped away from her, instantly making her body ache to return. “I’m not going to kill myself.”
The relief washed over her and Aimée’s knees went out beneath her. She fell to the ground, gasping at the power of the poison. “Thank you.”
“I told you that was the agreement. You got what you wanted. Now you call me Theo.”
“You can hardly say this is what I wanted, vamp—” Aimée started to snarl as she picked herself off the ground. Then, at the beast’s raised eyebrow, she quickly swallowed the rest down. Much more subdued, she muttered, “Theo.”
“Awesome.” That mischievous grin formed on his face again. “So I shouldn’t tell you I’ve always had these insane urges to go on a drive out in the country…” he waited, eyes twinkling as he watched her, obviously enjoying the game, “…find a really high cliff and—”
Aimée gasped at the surge of panic that followed. “Connard!”
He waited, that same eyebrow raised.
“Theo,” she muttered. “Putain. Theo.”
“—blow bubbles off the edge.” He brought his arms over his chest and looked down at her thoughtfully. “You know, I think we can make this work.”
Aimée narrowed her eyes at him. “Make what work, Theo?”
Theo laughed, a full-throated guffaw that gave her unspeakable pleasure. “I forgot that the French have this singular ability to make any word into a curse.”
“It’s true,” Aimée muttered, and when she met his eyes and saw the lack of malice there, she had to smile.
“So,” Theo cleared his throat, blushing again. “Erm. I can take the first watch.”
Aimée glanced at the shelter, then swallowed at the thought of him wandering off as she slept there alone. “I think I should probably go first,” she said, thinking she could simply stay awake until dawn, just to make sure he stayed put. She knew it was insane, but she was more worried about losing track of him than losing sleep.
The flat look the vampire gave her told her he knew she was lying. “I’ve been around the block enough times that when a first-time thrall offers to take ‘first shift,’ they don’t plan on waking me up.”
Aimée felt her heart start to hammer. “I would,” she said. “I just thought maybe you needed some sleep—”
Sighing, the vampire closed the distance and—still not touching her—looked down into her eyes. “You’re not going to sleep tonight, are you?”
Aimée flushed until it felt like her face would explode. “I don’t need sleep,” she babbled. “We’ve been hunted and tortured and—”
The vampire wrapped his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the shelter. “Come on then, in you go.” And then he was pulling her down with him, and even as Aimée’s body reveled in the contact, her startled mind realized his intent.
“No,” she babbled, “I don’t need you to—”
And then he’d pulled her atop him, chest-to-chest, under the shelter they had built. Even as she went totally stiff in horror, he adjusted her so that her head could rest on his chest. “There. Now I can’t go anywhere without you feeling it. Better?”
Mortifyingly, it was. Much better. The anxiety had melted away and she felt, ridiculously, like she could relax completely knowing he was there.
“This is not,” she gritted, as she nonetheless lowered her ear to his chest and listened to his heartbeat, “what I had in mind.”
“You’ll sleep like a baby. Trust me.”
And feeling the wash of calm rolling over her from his proximity, she knew he was telling the truth.
Then the vampire moved underneath her, getting comfortable, and for a terrifying moment, her body thought he was trying to get up.
“Your heartrate just spiked, Inquisitor,” he commented, a deep rumble under her touch. The mischievousness was back. “Are you nervous I might—”
“Theo,” she said quickly.
“Stay here, utterly motionless, all night?”
Aimée groaned in relief and dropped her forehead to his chest. “Thank you.”
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve had to deal with my fair share of the enthralled. I know what makes them tick.”
Aimée felt her fingers tighten on his flesh. “You know what makes me tick. Like you would train a dog? Teach it tricks?”
“So you don’t want me to just lie here completely still and let you sleep atop me to prove I’m not going anywhere?” He raised a brow at her. “’Cause honestly, Inquisitor, no offense, but I don’t really like you. Given the choice, I’d sleep alone.”
She bared her teeth. “The feeling is mutual. Theo.”
He chuckled. “There’s that French spirit again.” He went still beneath her. “Seriously, though, I was just trying to help you relax. If you want to tough it out, I’ll get up.”
Just the panic at the thought of him leaving her there was enough to make her want to shout at him to stay. She managed to control herself, but barely. “You can…stay if you…want to…Theo.”
He tilted his head to look down his chest at her. “You know, every time you say it that way, I wonder if there’s a word in French that sounds like ‘Theo’ that actually means ‘revolting manpustle.’”
Her lips twitched in a grin, despite herself. “Close.”
He was silent for several minutes and she listened to him breathe, trying not to agonize over the way her body had melded into that of a demon, and how pleasant the demon’s venom made that feel.
“Takes like two weeks,” he said softly.
“What does?” she gritted.
“For the poison to wear off. I can’t feed from you for two weeks. More, if you want to go the gentle route.”
Just the thought of weaning herself of the poison was enough to make her nauseous. “I know that,” she gasped. “Just don’t say it.”
“So how do you wanna do this?” he asked. “Cold turkey or slow-and-easy?”
She swallowed hard, and despite every ounce of Inquisitor training and years of painful discipline screaming at her to say otherwise, she replied, “Slow.”
“All right, you got it,” he said. “You’ll be going about batshit in about 24 hours, so I’ll give you a little dose then.”
“A full day?” she gasped, lifting her head. She’d actually been thinking of asking him for a dose now. To go a full day…
He met her eyes and there was calculation there. “You sure you don’t want cold turkey?”
Humiliatingly, she just shook her head. “Twenty-four hours.” She could do twenty-four hours. Just the thought of two weeks was enough to make her cringe.
“Slow and easy it is,” he agreed. He leaned his head back to look up at the ever-brightening sky through the holes in the branches above. “Hopefully we can both last that long.”
“I can last if you can, démon,” she challenged.
She watched him grin and immediately realized her mistake. “You know, whenever I look up at the sky and see how insignificant we really are in the grand scheme of things, I’ve always had this inexplicable urge to go find a sword and—”
“Theo!” she cried. “Merciful God, Theo.”
His eyes twinkled when he glanced down at her. “—polish it until you can see the stars in the blade.” He settled under her once more, getting comfortable. “Good night, Aimée.”
She tried not to feel pleasure at his every movement, but the contact was overwhelming. To distract herself, she said, “Good night…Theo.”
At the lack of a curse in his name this time, she watched him smile.
And, in seeing that simple gesture, Aimée hoped she was never had to choose between killing him or regaining her place with the Order. This one is not evil. She was sure of it. She’d seen enough demons to know the rotten when their putrescence stank up a room.
Oh? that deeper part of her mind demanded. And what of the selkie? You still pin his skin to the wall like a war trophy. Was he evil?
Aimée had gotten great accolades for trapping him that night. She’d earned her place in the Holy Order of Angels, had received a blessing of the Order’s matron herself. But it had always nagged at her, that oyster he’d offered her in friendship. She’d gone back weeks later and found it in the bushes above the high tide line, where she’d sprung her trap and had him carted off to the bowels of the Vatican drugged and bound in the back of an Inquisition van…
She’d visited him afterwards, had seen the lifelessness in his once-playful blue eyes, and had wished, just for a moment, she could have let him keep his oyster and walked away. It was something that had nagged her from that very first day, no matter how many depraved vampire nests she destroyed, no matter how many trolls and goblins and salamanders she put in chains. That very first one, that smile…
So similar to Theo’s smile, now that she thought about it. Mischievous. Playful. A love for life…
“I saw you crying,” an ancient Gaelic voice had said, almost shy, “Are you hungry…?”
Now, with the selkie long dead and that worn and polished half-shell even then as a bulge in her pocket, Aimée swallowed hard and tried not to think about it.