Page 22 of Blood Lust

He stands at the door, waiting, talking animatedly with Rolando. Everyone is doing their own thing, but I notice one person is missing.

“Where’s Charlee?” I am used to being mildly assaulted when I come out for the night, and it doesn’t feel right without her.

“Charlee is staying in Callery tonight.” With a nod, Rolando retreats to the study he is always cooped up in. Oz continues, “She’s going to get some supplies and bring back some food for the house. I’ve also asked her to look for news about you to see if we can get any information to help jog your memory.” I feel a knot of nerves begin to grow in my stomach. “She’ll be back tomorrow night.”

I might know more tomorrow night. The thought is exhilarating. Oz opens the door and stands to the side as if to say, ‘Ladies first.’ I walk past him into the night, the scent of lemongrass wafting over me as I do. God, I love the smell.

We trek through the woods, with no trail or path to guide us, just Oz and his keen sense of direction. It couldn’t be me. I’d probably get lost just trying to find my way back to the house from here, and everything looks the same to me. “How long have you been in America,” I ask, trying to make conversation. Oz is quiet a lot, and I can’t very well pick his brain if he’s not talking. I don’t mind being the one to steer the conversation, though. With an empty mind, I have nothing but questions.

“We came here in 1586 and left about two years later, traveling south. We did go back to Europe for a few centuries and then spent some time in East Asia before returning permanently in 1985.” My jaw drops. It’s one thing to hear in the abstract about being around in medieval or colonial times but quite another to hear about more recent decades. I don’t know much about history at the moment, but I know enough that Oz and Leland were in America exceptionally early.

I need to see how much of this is in the archives and what I can dig up. I suddenly have a powerful urge to have Rolando show me everything he’s been working on.

My question opens Oz up a bit. He starts recounting tales of random battles he and his family have fought against rival covens or humans who were up to no good. From his stories, I am able to determine that this coven, this family, isn’t unique. Most vampires seem to be genuinely decent, but others are very dark.

“We keep who we are when we change,” he tells me. “If you were a good person in life, you would be good as an immortal. Maybe with a few less cares of simple moralities, but when it counts, you’ll be the same for the most part.” Am I a good person?

“Yes,” Oz says suddenly. Had I said that out loud? Stopping in front of me, I almost run into him, having been watching the ground, and trying not to trip on anything. I can see well in the dark, but it doesn’t matter if I’m not looking at the roots trying to trip me. I would think that being a vampire would make me graceful or something. Oz chuckles softly, probably laughing because I nearly plowed into him. “We’re here,” he says, gesturing to a dark opening in the rock face beside us.

A cave?

Did he bring me to a freaking cave?

I step forward and past him, eying the opening. It’s dark enough that even my super sight can only penetrate so far. I can hear water, various insect and rodent life thriving inside. My tense muscles relax. So what if it looks like where a serial killer would go to dump their victim’s bodies? This is Oz’s place, and if there is anyone on this planet I trust, it’s him.

A whisper in my ear sends a shiver down my spine. “I promise the view is worth it,” Oz is no longer laughing at me. It feels like electricity is passing between us. I could lean back into his chest and lose myself in him. The thought sends a spark of arousal to my core. “Let me show you,” he breathes, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. I let him lead me into the darkness.

I’d let him lead me anywhere.

“I found this place ten years ago,” he tells me, his voice echoing. He leads me into the main chamber of the cave system. It isn’t enormously large, but the rock formations are beautiful in their own right. “It has six easily accessible chambers, one if you swim through the water and under that ledge,” he points to the far side of the cave. “And another that is pretty much a dead drop about fifty feet down,” he gestures to a crevice this time.

I look around, peering down into the abyss, unable to see past a few feet. It is so dark. I step over to the water’s edge. It flows gently. Water from above trickles down the walls, forming what looks like a small pond, except the pond doesn’t overflow. It keeps going under a ledge of rock, and I can make out the sound of the water lapping against the stone in its slow current.

Oz lets go of my hand for a moment, turning on a small lantern already waiting here. The light doesn’t reach too far, but it allows me to see a bit further. Going from seeing crazy far in the dark to barely at all is strange. I guess it’s because we’re never in complete darkness until we get into the depths of the Earth. He slips his hand back into mine and says, “I want to show you my favorite chamber.”

He sounds excited, and so am I. I want him to show me more magic, and that’s exactly what this place feels like. His warm hand guides me to a small opening. Letting go of me again, he places his hand on the small of my back, the gap too narrow to walk side by side. Can he tell how his nearness affects me? Is he doing this on purpose?

The next chamber is filled with various sharp-looking rocks hanging from the top of the cave and smaller patches of rocks growing up from the bottom. They look almost like teeth. I laugh to myself, thinking it is ironic that vampires were in a room with pointy rock teeth.

“It’s the next chamber ahead.” I turn in a circle and walk backward, craning my neck to look up at the spears of rock hanging down. Some are impossibly sharp, others more blunt or bulbous. It is truly mesmerizing. I turn back toward Oz, who is watching me with a patient smile as I join him. He likes watching me take it all in. This is his place, and he is sharing it with me. I wonder if watching me see his cave through fresh eyes is almost as good as seeing it all for the first time himself.

The next opening isn’t nearly as narrow. A steady dripping sound of water and the soft hum of insects breaks up the quiet. He sets the lantern down in the center of the room, but I can’t see the walls. It’s bigger than the other chambers. From the sounds of the echoes, it is probably twice the size of the chamber we were just in. “Sit with me,” he asks, lowering himself to the smooth rocky surface of the cave floor. I do as he asks, purposefully planting myself next to him. The casual touches, hand-holding, glances, and smiles while showing me his favorite place… He has to feel about me the same way I feel about him.

He doesn’t pull away, even as our arms brush against one another.

Oz reaches over to the lantern and turns it off with a click that echoes. “Now,” he says, his deep voice soft but no less rumbly than usual. “We wait.”

“Wait for what?” My voice sounds loud in the darkness.

“Shhhh,” he hushes, reaching for my hand again. I don’t doubt it anymore. He feelssomethingfor me. I don’t want to scare him off, but I am learning that I’m not the most patient person in the world. Still, I quiet myself, leaning against him. I tuck my head onto his shoulder. I feel him stiffen for half a second and then relax, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

It is so dark that my eyes can’t focus on anything other than him, but not wanting to move my head, I settle for just staring into the depths of nothing. Finally it seems like my eyes might be adjusting. This strikes me as odd, I kind of took the vampy sight thing as a one size fits all sort of deal. Things are getting clearer, though. I can see a stalagmite ten feet away, short and squat. A blue light begins to bloom on the wall beyond it, followed by dozens more.

I gasp and look all around. The entire cave ceiling and most of the walls are covered in little glowing worms. They are beautiful. Thousands of them twinkle against the rock like stars. “Dazzling, isn’t it,” Oz whispers, and I look at him. He’s staring at me, watching my reaction. His stare penetrates me, setting me on fire from the inside. I want to wrap that warmth around me, to give in and drown in it.

I brush my lips against his.

Oz’s hand quickly goes to the back of my head, holding me to him as he kisses me back. His lips are sweet, and I want him to kiss me everywhere. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, catching me off guard. Oz is so gentle with me in every other aspect, his sudden hunger is surprising. I massage his tongue with my own and moan into the kiss.

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