The Becoming

Chapter Thirty-Nine

My heart is beating too quickly, drumming too loudly in my chest. Avery can pick up on a thing like that. I have to calm myself, literally slow the mad rush of my blood through my veins. He mustn't know what I suspect.

How do I get the story from him? My first impulse, to rip into him, doesn't seem so practical now. He has been a vampire for three hundred years, while I, less than a week. What worked with Williams might not work with him. My strength comes from our union, Avery's and mine. Am I ready to test who is the stronger?

I watch Avery.

He's busying himself with the roses, arranging them just so in the vase. He wants everything to be perfect tonight. He's pleased with himself, confident that he has won me, satisfied that his life is exactly as he wishes it to be. He is not trying to hide any of this from me, nor is he prying into my thoughts. He is too full of self-congratulations to bother.

I move toward him, placing my glass at the table's edge. I thrust the ring box into his hand.

He takes it and raises his eyes. You have questions for me, Anna? I sense your heart is troubled. Tell me what's wrong.

He is being simple, direct. Let's see if he will be honest. I'll start with something he might not find threatening.

Tell me about Dena.

Avery raises an eyebrow. My housekeeper?

I met her today. She has marks on her neck. You have fed from her.

He nods. Of course I have. She offered herself. Many mortals do, you know. They think it's exciting.

You didn't hide the marks.

She didn't want me to. It's a symbol. Remember when I told you about how it could be with Max? Well, the pleasure is addicting to some and one host may not be enough.

So you had sex with her, too?

He shrugs. Before you came into my life. I haven't touched her that way since.

But you've taken her blood since, haven't you?

The blood was a condition of employment, the sex a perk.

That you could withdraw at any time. Did she know that? Maybe that's why she was so frightened of me. She thought I might force myself on her, feed from her, the way you did.

Avery shakes his head, an impatient little frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Force myself on her? I don't see it that way.

She came to me of her own free will. I helped her and in turn, she helped me. She can leave my employ at any time. I don't know why she acted frightened around you. Perhaps you should ask her the next time you see her.

His cavalier dismissal of his housekeeper's distress triggers a spark of anger in me. I will ask her, Avery.

The frown deepens. He speaks aloud, his voice heavy with disapproval. “Why do you persist in involving yourself with mortals?

Why do you care what they want or don't want? I have tried to show you again and again that you are above all that now."

I believe that is true, Avery.

He peers at me, sudden distrust sparking in the depths of his eyes. “What are you hiding from me, Anna? What dark suspicions are you harboring? Tell me before you irreparably damage our evening."

"Will you be honest with me?"

"Haven't I always been honest?"

"No. You haven't."

He lets nothing project, no denial, no question. He simply nods his head and says, “Go on then."

I move to the other side of the table. If this is to be the showdown, I want something solid between us. “Let's start with the night of your party. You alerted the Revengers that I was coming."

"Is that a question?"

"No. The question is why? To see if I could get away? Was it some kind of performance test?"

He smiles. “If it was, you passed, didn't you? You got away."

"And came straight back to you. Was that the idea? Was that the reason you had my house burned down, too? To assure I would be dependent on you?"

He doesn't respond, his mind as blank and impenetrable as his expression.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. The bond between us had already been forged. My home was special to me. My grandparents raised my mother there. Now I have nothing left of that life. It was a stupid, pointless, hurtful thing to do."

Avery stirs a little, eyes flashing in the candlelight, but still, he says nothing, lets no emotion filter into his thoughts.

It's disconcerting, but I've come this far. I may as well press on.

"Then there's Donaldson and Beso de la Muerte . A very good distraction. It's taken me awhile to figure that one out, but I think I have it now. You killed him, didn't you? And you wounded me in order to slow me down so you could get home before I did. I think you planned to kill him before I found out he knew nothing about David or the fire, but you weren't quite quick enough. Still, there must be something else about Donaldson that you didn't want me to know. Like maybe, your connection to him? He hardly seemed the type to seek out vampires. He had a family that, judging from the pictures I found at the cave, he still cared about. Yet, he became a vampire, and you called him a rogue. How does that happen? Was he your rogue?"

This time, Avery allows himself a smile. “You are a wonder, Anna, do you know that?” He sips delicately at the glass in his hand, his eyes locked with mine. “If I'd had any idea how smart you are, or how intuitive, I might just have killed you in the hospital.

Perhaps I should have."

"Your mistake, I agree. Will you answer my question?"

He blows out an impatient sigh. “I turned Donaldson. He was a fussy, irritating little man who happened to stumble on an impropriety in one of the hospital accounts. He was doing an audit for his company. He made the mistake of coming to me about it.

I convinced him he had more to gain by looking the other way. When he objected, I set up the bookkeeping discrepancy in his own firm. I showed him how easy it was for one with computer savvy to set up such things. When his boss found out about it, Donaldson came over to my side very quickly. He didn't want to go to jail. I gave him immortality and the hospital problem disappeared. He was supposed to leave the country right away. How was I to know he had such a dark nature? It happens sometimes. He found he liked the killing. He left his family to protect them, the last decent thing he did."

He's still smiling at me, but there's no warmth now. He's watching me the same way a cat might watch a mouse, and he waits for my next move with the same placid feline patience. He's not the least bit afraid.

I rest the palms of my hands on the table and lean forward to continue.

"And what about Williams, what he said to me and what happened after? It wasn't me he needed to hide from, was it? He was afraid of you and what you might do when you found out what he told me. He was afraid of your power. Not mine. He retreated because he thought you and I were in league and that somehow threatened him. I still don't understand it."

I look into Avery's dark eyes. “But you aren't going to explain it, are you?"

Surprisingly, he responds. “You would not understand it—the balance of power between old-soul vampires in a community. I think perhaps now you never will."

"That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

A long moment passes. I have to fight back anger and frustration and regain my composure before I broach the subject most important to me—David.

His sharp eyes detect a shift in my expression, his mind probes into my subconscious. “You are very good about hiding your thoughts from me, Anna,” he says softly. “But there is something more you want from me."

He's turned his back to me, champagne glass in one hand, the velvet ring box in the other, staring out at the horizon. His shoulders slump a little and he adds, “I'm sorry it's come to this. I had such hopes for us.” He fingers the box. “The stone in this ring belonged to my mother. In the past, it's been worn by women, mortal women, good women. When I met you, though, I knew you were the last one destined to wear it. For all eternity."

He slips the box back into his jacket pocket. “But you can't let go. I read it in your heart. Your home. Your friends. Even when I strip them away, you refuse to let go."

I don't move from my place. I'm sure now that Avery knows what I've done. How he will react may determine whether I survive this or not.

He places the glass down on the table. “This is all about your friend, David, isn't it?"

Yes.

He turns to look at me. The candlelight on his face reflects, in icy radiance, an expression both hostile and derisive. He opens his mind and draws me in, daring me physically to come closer.

But I keep my distance because what I feel emanating from him is both frightening and malignant.

There's nothing soft or loving or forgiving left in his heart or his attitude towards me. Those feelings are erased by the enormity of cold fury.

"You found him,” he says simply.

Only his eyes blaze with contempt, flashing the danger.

He's letting me into his thoughts to scare me, and it works.