Page 9 of Vacation with the Vampire
If that was supposed to be a compliment, he had another thing coming. I shifted forward, ready to go to battle with his smug face, whether I was injured or not. Uncouth? Who even said that? “Oh, I am about to…” I warned, but at that moment, the door opened. I snapped my mouth shut.
The man who entered, I was pretty sure Raoul had called him Teebow, looked like he had stepped straight out of a magazine. Tall, looming over Raoul even though Raoul was not short himself. He was impeccably dressed in a sharply tailored suit that probably cost more than my entire trip to Paris. Dark hair, perfectly styled in that sleek way that was so popular right now. Shorter on the sides, a little longer on top. His features were almost too symmetrical, too precise, like they’d been carved rather than born. Carved straight out of the finest marble.
It was his eyes that made me shiver, though; they were cold, so very cold. Not just the emotionally distant kind of cold; aloof. Cold in a way that felt literal, like looking into stone thathad been sitting in shadow for centuries. That gaze was both beautiful and terrifying.
He carried a wooden box with him. It was smooth and fairly flat, no bigger than a shoebox. Dark and polished, it was fitted with a small lock, a golden key with filigree decorations sticking out of it. It was the kind of box your grandmother might have stashed somewhere in the attic, covered in dust and filled with mementos. Somehow, I had a feeling this box held something far more sinister than a stack of yellowed letters and faded photographs. This box gave me a shiver, the same as the eyes of the stranger, our host, did.
Without thinking, I leaned back slightly into the couch; Raoul shifted immediately. It was subtle but unmistakable, how he placed himself between his friend and me. The movement was so instinctive, so automatic, that it caught me off guard. I was not alone in that; Teebow’s gaze flicked to him, then to me, then back again. I began to wonder if they were even friends, or just careful acquaintances politely sizing one another up. Still deciding whether the other would be friend or foe down the line.
“Here,” our host said simply. He stepped forward and held out the box, his eyes on my vampire companion rather than me. I did not think he was trying to be polite or that he’d sensed my unease and was being nice about it. I was pretty suresomethingwas being conveyed in the stone-cold look he pinned on Raoul.
It made me glad I’d stumbled upon Raoul by accident, not this guy. Sure, my sleeping beauty was dusty, grumpy, and seemed to think he was far superior to anyone else, but he was also surprisingly caring when it came down to it. Case in point: hewas infinitely gentle as he settled onto the edge of the couch, making sure he didn’t jar my awful, definitely broken wrist.
He took the proffered box from our host and placed it in his lap, his expression focused as he deftly ignored the hovering presence in the room. His fingers moved with familiarity as he opened it, lifting the lid with care. I held my breath as I waited for my first peek, half expecting medieval torture devices masquerading as a surgeon’s kit.
The box was lined with black velvet and held something that glimmered. I leaned in slightly, curiosity overriding fear. Nestled against the dark velvet lay a piece of—was that glass? No, not exactly. It was a lens, maybe, but it was purple-hued, irregular in shape, and set in an intricate silver frame that curled around it like vines or claws. It caught the light in strange ways, the color shifting faintly as it moved. It reminded me of fluorite, or pale amethyst, except this was smoothed into a pane that was almost transparent.
It was really quite beautiful, but it also made absolutely no sense as a healing aid for a broken wrist unless you took that New Agey stuff way too seriously. Raoul was probably a real vampire, so I didn’t think he had even heard the term New Age.
“This will hurt,” he said casually, and he began lifting that strange crystal lens out of the box. It caught the light, looking pretty, useless, and definitely not like an object capable of hurting anyone, not even if you conked them on the head with it.
I gave him a sharp look. “Excuse me?” I was in enough pain already as it was; he didn’t need to add ominous warnings like that. My eyes flicked from him to the man now leaning againstthe unlit fireplace, observing us. Then back to Raoul’s dark brown eyes, dotted with little flecks of gold.
“It will also heal you,” he continued, as if that balanced things out. “I suggest you remain still.” From the box, he withdrew a small strip of leather and held it out to me. “For your teeth,” he said, offering it casually. The leather was worn and creased, possibly by teeth that had bitten down on it before. Yuck.
I stared at it, then at him. “You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding!” I was so not putting that anywhere near my mouth! It made my stomach turn just looking at it.
“I am not,” Raoul said, deadpan. He jiggled the leather strap in front of my face expectantly, but I refused to grab it. That was definitely a bit too much of a trick out of the medieval butcher—I mean surgeon’s—toolbox.
“I’m not biting that,” I said, and I shoved his hand away with my good one. He barely budged, but after a long second he lowered his fist, those dark eyes beginning to glow with a golden hue that was definitely not natural. Oh God, he really,reallywas a vampire, and I still couldn’t believe I’d discovered vampires were real.
“As you wish,” Raoul drawled, and he tucked the leather strap back into the box. His eyes warned me that he wouldnotbe pleased with me if I proceeded to bite my own tongue during this painful procedure he’d planned for me.
Great, fantastic. I should tell him I wanted a hospital right this instant. I eyed the crystal lens with its mysterious purple hue and wondered again how that could possibly hurt me, or healme. It was either remarkably stupid, or simply pragmatic, when I muttered, “Okay, let’s just do it, I guess.”
Raoul held my gaze a little longer, the golden glow of his eyes intensifying, swirling. I wasn’t sure what that meant, only that it felt magnetic, hypnotic, even. As if I were about to tumble down a rabbit hole and into Wonderland if I kept staring just a little longer. Maybe not a Wonderland, but something darker, more twisted, more sensual. My skin broke out in goosebumps, and I yanked my eyes away first.
He took my wrist then, the injured one. His touch was careful, surprisingly so, as he turned it gently, examining the swelling. I bit down on my lip to hold back a moan of pain, then recalled that nasty leather strap and quickly released my lip again. He hadn’t noticed, I hoped, his golden stare focused on my injury as he brought the lens closer.
For a second, nothing happened, and I nearly crowed in victory to point that out. Then a gentle warmth brushed my skin. It spread slowly, like the first touch of sunlight after being cold too long. Then it deepened, intensified, seeping into my skin, my bones, wrapping around the ache and… I gasped as the sensation intensified, turning into something that definitely bordered on pain.
“Okay, okay, that’s weird,” I muttered, thinking the worst was over, surprised anything was even happening at all. It wasn’t exactly pain, but it was intense. Like my body didn’t know what to do with it, like something was shifting and knitting itself back together in ways it absolutely should not be able to.
Then it got worse, a whole lot worse. I fought not to bite my lip again as tears sprang to my eyes. The pain lanced through my wrist, blistering; blazing like wildfire through my nerves. I clenched my jaw, gripping the edge of the couch, but I refused to cry out. “Almost done,” he said, his eyes flicking once to my face.
“Uh-huh,” I breathed. “Sure, take your time…” I wasn’t sure if that was judgment I saw on his handsome face, curving the corner of his mouth. Perhaps he enjoyed inflicting this kind of pain, or perhaps he was thinking, “I told you so.” Whatever that expression was, it got me fired up enough that the last wave seemed more bearable.
The warmth peaked, then faded, and it was over in the next breath. I blinked down at my wrist, because as the warmth left me, it took more than just that blazing agony he’d induced. It had taken the swelling, the bruising, and yes, the pain. I flexed my wrist very cautiously, but there was not even a hint that I’d broken my wrist. Not even a lingering bit of stiffness.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Nope. I don’t like that.” I wasn’t sure why, but magic healing crystals were somehow more confrontational than Raoul’s glowing eyes and the hint of fang at the corner of his mouth.
“We will proceed,” Raoul said, already moving. He shifted on the edge of the couch to perch beside my abused knees, the crystal still in his hand.
“Wait, wait!” I protested, because I really wanted a minute to gather myself after that. Too late, he was already moving on, and he definitely had no patience to give me a breather. A shuffle, a whisper of noise, also yanked my eyes to the host, this Teebow.He still stood by the hearth, staring, and I definitely thought he was judging, but was he judging me or Raoul?
I thought my vampire was going to put that crystal to work a second time, and though my head still reeled, I leaned in to watch. Only, he reached down and started picking out the debris embedded in my skin manually, with deft, long fingers. I yelped in pain. “Are you serious?!”
“Would you prefer I leave the stones embedded?” he drawled, shooting me a mild look that definitely seemed to imply I was an idiot for not expecting it.
