The whole thing was too fresh in his mind, as if it had just happened.
Everything seemed surreal. He should be dead—he’d felt the
crunching of the bones in his neck. He’d come out of the hypnosis only
a breath before the actual moment of death.
“Gray . . .” she began again.
“Later,” he managed. “Just . . . later.” He let the doctor lead him
from the room, noting the sympathetic look Dr. Greene cast Tara as
they passed.
They had walked a few yards when the doctor cleared his throat.
“I’ll have to take you to Julian,” he said. “The final decision is his.”
“About what?”
“About whether we can let you go.”
Gray stopped, stood stock still in the middle of the corridor. Dr.
Greene slowed to a halt and looked back at him questioningly.
“Damn,” Gray muttered, then caught up with Dr. Greene. There
didn’t seem to be anything else he could do.
“You saw?” Julian asked when they arrived in his office.
“I saw.”
“Are we good?”
Gray nodded. “We’re good. You had good reason to kill Liam.”
And Liam might also have had good reason to do what he’d done.
Gray wasn’t sure about that yet. The larger part of him still said vampires
were evil, but maybe that was just Liam inside him, doing the
talking. And years of Dracula movies. Reality, in the form of Julian and
Daniel, told him vampires were just like people—some good, some
bad. And fate had led him to the former variety. That much, he was
sure of. Vampire or not, Julian Cavanaugh was a good man. Gray
couldn’t fault him for protecting a nest of children—then or now.
Julian studied him for a long time, and when he smiled, Gray knew
the vampire was satisfied with whatever he saw.
“Go home,” Julian said, gesturing with a nod toward the door.
So Dr. Greene took him home. But even there, he didn’t know
what to do. Could he return to his life, burdened with the knowledge of
the existence of the ancient caverns, filled with vampires, far below his
feet? Could he walk away from all that had happened in the past week,
knowing Tara existed in this city? Both questions seemed unanswerable.
He needed time. Time to get used to what he knew and what he
should do with that knowledge. Not that he would tell anyone about the
enclave of vampires. He just needed to figure out how to assimilate
their existence into his view of the world. To make it make sense.
A big job, he thought. Especially for a psychiatrist.
* * *
Two weeks. Two weeks, and nothing from Gray. Tara didn’t know
whether she was frustrated or angry. But, in truth, she had to admit she
wasn’t surprised.
It was his own fault they’d arrived at this crossroads. His own
damned fault for having been a vampire hunter in a previous life. His
fault for refusing to believe the truth of his dreams, his visions, his
memories. His fault for forcing the issue with Daniel.
Then again . . . maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Maybe it was
destined. She’d thought for a while that they’d been fated to meet and
find each other again, and for love to blossom between them as it had
between Liam and Felicity. But things didn’t seem to be shaping up
that way. It was looking more like, boy meets girl, boy meets girl’s
vampire friends, boy runs off screaming into the night.
She should just forget him. Which would be a lot easier if she
could quit having those damned dreams. Nighttime had become a regular
sex-with-Gray fest. He didn’t even have the decency to appear as
Liam anymore. He was just Gray. Big and sexy and solid, gorgeous,
devoted, and very, very skilled.
Luckily, she’d gotten used to sleeping during the day, to make up
for what she missed during the night.
Besides, at night she also had Daniel to occupy her now.
He was mortal, having undergone the same procedure that had
transformed Rafael. She had stayed with him throughout, helping him
deal with the pain of the dialysis. The transformation had left him weak
for a few days, disoriented, barely able to eat. He’d stayed in the Underground
until he felt better, and Rafael had offered assistance. Having
recently undergone the procedure himself, Rafael provided more
insight than she could have, Tara knew, although she’d stayed close by,
if only to reassure Daniel and to keep him company.
“So you haven’t heard from Gray at all?” Daniel asked on day
fifteen, when he had graduated from clear broth to noodles and white
bread. He was eating at the kitchen table, blinking at the noon sunlight.
“No. I’ve left a few messages, but nothing.” She went to the
window to close the blinds, afraid the sunlight might hurt Daniel’s newly
changed skin.
“He’s a creep,” said Daniel matter-of-factly. “Is it too soon for
pizza? Rafael said pizza is the best stuff ever.”
“No pizza yet, hon. Give it some time.”
“I’m just sick of this broth. The same thing over and over, every
day, every meal.”
She gave him a dry look. “And what kind of variety did you have
before?”
“I guess that’s a point.” He paused, poking at his soup. “Could
you not call me ‘hon?’ I mean, I’m, like, five hundred years old.”
“From here on out, you’re a ten-year-old boy. That means you get
schoolwork, you go to bed at a reasonable hour, and as long as you’re
living in this house, I get to call you sweetheart, honey, pumpkin, or
whatever nickname I feel is appropriate.”
He made a face. “Gross.”
“And that’s exactly how a normal ten-year-old boy should react.”
He finished his soup, frowning reflectively. Finally he looked up at
her and said, “If you’re going to call me all those things, could I call you
‘Mom?’”
She smiled, touched. “That would be fine.”
He was there, in a misty darkness, strong and solid, and she
was drawn to him. She went to him and his arms closed around
her, until her face was pillowed against his broad chest. He was
warm and beautiful, and he bent her backward over his arm and
caught her breast in his mouth, drawing at her, making fire pool
between her thighs. She wanted him inside
And he was there, deep inside her, and she was pulsing around
him, the fire flying through her veins, through her heart, up to
shimmer over her skin
Tara woke abruptly. It was nearly sunrise. From the living room,
she heard the television. Daniel was watching his usual Japanese fare,
and had likely been up much of the night. She was never going to get
him on a regular schedule, so she could send him to school. Maybe she
should home school him. Julian certainly wouldn’t be likely to protest.
She’d had a feeling one of his biggest concerns about Daniel’s change
was how to assimilate him into regular culture. Easing him into a version
less mainstream than he’d be exposed to at a public school might
be the way to go.
And thinking in long-winded, excruciat
ing detail about the pros
and cons of home schooling Daniel just might drive that dream out of
her head.
Wishful thinking. It was hopeless.
She got up and dressed, then joined Daniel in the living room.
“Good show?” she asked. To her, it looked the same as the other shows
he watched—bright colors, fast movement, and characters with big
eyes and irritating voices.
“It’s a new one. It’s the middle of the series, and I’m not sure
what’s going on.” He shrugged. “Lots of action, though.”
“That’s good. What do you want for breakfast?”
“Eggs. Could I try eggs?”
Tara nodded. “Sure. Boiled eggs should be a good step up for you.”
She went to the kitchen and put water on to boil. “When that
show’s over, could you turn to the news?”
“Sure.”
It was so domestic, she thought. Just her and her little boy. She
could devote her attention to him because Julian was footing the bill.
And, based on her last discussion with Julian, he might be sending her
a few more kids to take care of. At least three had decided to look into
the change. It would be a while, though, before any of them were
ready. With the loss of Gray’s services, Julian had decided to let Dr.
Greene take over the psychologist’s duties. The doctor had agreed but
had insisted on taking some classes first, afraid his amateur efforts
might do more harm than good.
If only Gray were still in the picture. He’d done a good job with
Daniel, after all. But apparently he’d decided to bow out.
Or maybe Julian had killed him—a thought she tried hard to deny
but couldn’t. Julian had said he hadn’t, and Dr. Greene had concurred,
but recent events had made her a little wary when it came to trusting
Julian.
When Daniel’s eggs were done, she peeled them, dropped them
into a bowl and put them on the table in front of him. “Eat slowly,” she
said.
He did. “These are good.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
“Food is cool.” She could tell he wanted to wolf down the eggs,
but he restrained himself. “Food is very, very cool. I can’t wait to try
more of it.”
“Do you feel okay? It’s not disagreeing with you?”
“It doesn’t seem to be.”
“Good.” She considered. “Will you be okay by yourself for a bit?
I was thinking about running out for some coffee.”
“I could come with.”
“Would you want to?”
“Sure. Why not? Any chance to see the sun.”
“Put on some sunscreen.”
He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Mom.”
Tara smiled. She had to admit, she really liked the sound of that.
They went to the coffee shop together, the one where she’d met
Gray. Tara hadn’t been in it since Gray’s ill-fated trip to the Underground.
She wasn’t sure why. Maybe she was afraid of seeing him.
And maybe she was afraid of not seeing him, then having to confront
Julian about whether or not Gray was even alive.
“It smells really good in here,” Daniel said when they got to the
counter. “Can I try something?”
“How about some tea? Tea’s easy on the stomach.”
“I’m game.”
They sat together at a table, and Tara looked out the window at
the people passing by.
“Do you think he’ll show?” Daniel asked after a few minutes.
Surprised, Tara looked at him. “Do I think who will show?” Her
voice sounded guilty.
“Santa Claus,” said Daniel. “Give me a break.” He looked out the
window. “Oh, there he is.”
“Santa Claus?”
“No, Gray, you big grown-up goof.”
She looked where Daniel was pointing. Gray was walking up the
sidewalk, hands buried in his pockets, gaze focused glumly on the ground.
“He misses you,” said Daniel.
Tara gave him a sharp look but detected no sarcasm in his voice
or face.
“I said that because I know you miss him,” Daniel went on.
“What’s a few vampires compared to the course of true love?”
“You’re a nosy little brat.”
“I’ve had five hundred years of practice.”
Still, Tara couldn’t bring herself to approach Gray directly. If this
was meant to be, if the greater powers of the universe really wanted
them to have a chance, he would see her, and he would stop, and
maybe he would take her in his arms and kiss her, right in the middle of
the coffee shop.
He bought his coffee, turned away from the counter, and walked
right toward them, still completely oblivious of her presence. So much
for the greater powers of the universe. She blinked back tears as he
took a seat at another table.
“Just go talk to him,” Daniel suggested. “I really don’t want to
watch you mooning the rest of the week because you didn’t.”
She considered. He was right. If she didn’t go, she would regret
it. “All right.”
Gray was more than lost in his thoughts. He seemed to be wandering
in a separate dimension. He didn’t look up or respond to her
presence in any way until she actually sat down across from him, touched
his hand, and spoke.
“Gray?”
He looked up, blinking himself back to reality. “Tara?”
“Good. You remember. I thought you might have forgotten while
you were off in la-la land, there.”
He smiled a little. “Sorry. I was just . . . thinking.”
“About what?”
“You.”
“Because I’m still having dreams.”
Desire hit her hard, out of left field, and she had to take a long
breath before she could talk again. “You, too, huh?”
His rueful smile faded into smoldering sobriety. “Vampires or no
vampires, I don’t think I can walk away from this.”
“From what, exactly?”
“From you.” He looked down at the table, then leaned closer to
her, his voice low and barely audible in the rumble of the coffee shop.
“I think I’m in love with you. I think it’s more than bleed-over from
Liam and Felicity. I think it’s just me.”
There were those annoying tears again. “I think it’s mutual.”
“Could we talk? I think I need to talk.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
“Let me get Daniel.”
“Daniel? I thought—”
Tara smiled. “The Blue Fairy granted his wish. He’s a real boy
now.” She waved to Daniel, who picked up his cup and joined them.
“So,” he said. “Is the mooning over?”
Tara cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to start giving you an
allowance.”
Daniel shrugged. “Cool. Why?”
“So I can take it away when you say stuff like that.” She rolled
her eyes toward Gray. “Let’s go.”
Gray followed Tara to her apartment, Daniel trailing after them,
seemingly absorbed in watching the sunlight. Gray felt intensely awkward,
not sure what he was going to say to Tara when they actually sat
down to talk.
“It’s s
o bright,” Daniel said.
“Which is why you need to stay out of it until you get a little more
used to it.” She gestured toward the shade of the building. “This way a
little?”
“Aw, jeez,” he muttered under his breath but spent the rest of the
walk in the shade, only letting his hand drift out into the sunlight from
time to time. Gray watched him, curious, as he turned his hand in the
light as if trying to catch it.
“Something new and different, I guess,” he ventured, not at all
sure how Daniel would respond.
“It’s been a long time. I didn’t really remember what it was like. I
mean, you helped a little, helped me remember some of it, but that was
nothing compared to actually being out here in it.” He made a face.
“Except Tara wants to keep me in the house all the time.”
“It’s probably wise,” said Gray. “I’m guessing you could sunburn
pretty badly, if you don’t take it a little at a time.”
Daniel shook his head in disgust. “Grownups suck.”
Tara led the way into her apartment. “Daniel,” she said, giving
him a meaningful look.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be scarce.” He went into his room and closed
the door.
“How is he doing?” Gray asked. It seemed as good a way as any
of avoiding the actual subject.
“He’s doing well. He thinks I’m being overprotective, though.”
“You probably are.” At her arch look, he smiled. “Most good moms
are, a little.”
Tara settled into the couch, sipping her coffee. “Correct me if I’m
wrong, but I don’t think you came here to talk about Daniel.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I got the impression you really didn’t want to see me or my weird
vampire friends ever again.”
“You, yes. Your weird vampire friends, no.”
“We kind of come in a package.”
“I worked that out. Among other things I worked out over the
past two weeks.”
“What things?”
He looked at her, into her eyes, then discovered he couldn’t talk at
all while he did that, much less say what he had to say. So he looked
away, then closed his eyes completely. “I love you. I know it took me
way too long to figure it out, but it’s true.”
“I said it before—I think it’s mutual,” she said, and when he looked
to see her carefully sipping her coffee, he noticed that her hand was