“The voices left once before,” I offered, “after Charles’ friend gave me Cruor blood to heal some injuries.”
“With his life source in your system, you were temporarily pulled from your own realm. Clairaudients cannot access thoughts in the realms they occupy, so you will not hear immortal thoughts when in the immortal realm.” She stared into the middle distance, smiling softly. “I’ve met someone like you once before. In Nepal. Anytime she drank Cruor blood, though, she heard human thoughts until the immortal essence filtered from her system. Did you experience likewise?”
I shook my head. Part in answer to her question and part in shock to learn others like me existed. “I don’t think so.”
“Your gift will protect you more than it puts you at risk,” Valeria said, “so long as you do not fear it.”
***
AFTER THE MORE SERIOUS MATTERS had been discussed, the Liettes engaged us with their light banter. Mrs. Liette asked a lot of questions, though nothing too personal or too hard to answer. She clung to every word spoken, listening intently, inhaling through her nose with a small smile, her chest rising at the intake of air, as if the very oxygen in the room made her happy. She was breezy, and the moments with her seemed to freeze time.
Mr. Liette, however, was the one who most shared my interests. It happened he was a firm believer in the possibility of the Ankou having a cure for the dual-natured. His wife and Charles shared a look over his ramblings, but I was enthralled as he sustained the possibilities with information that seemed to make sense of it all. I was most charmed when he brought up Nostradamus’ predictions. He believed Nostradamus was an early messenger of the Universe, and any disproven theories were merely evidence that the future wasn’t set in stone.
Charles huffed at his father’s sentiments and implored him to talk about something else. “Anything else,” he said. “Area 51. Elvis is still alive. Aliens. Just please”—he rubbed his hands down the sides of his face—“stop talking about Nostradamus!”
Mr. Liette chuckled and leaned closer to me. “He hates when I talk about this stuff.”
I stole a glance at Charles and smiled. He was smiling back.
After dinner, dessert, and another round of tea/blood, the Liettes gathered their things and said their goodbyes before disappearing into the night.
As it was too early for bed, and Charles and I wanted a reprieve from the lingering energy in the living room, we headed to the basement.
Charles plopped onto the sofa, pulling me into his strong, comforting grasp. “They like you. I can tell.”
“Yeah….”
“Oh no.” Charles frowned. “What now?”
“Your dad thinks someone followed them.”
Charles scratched the back of his neck. “He mentioned that outside.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
He smirked. “My dad thinks everyone’s out to get him.”
Charles switched on a spare television set he’d brought down earlier in the day, and I tried to pay attention to the screen. Some show on the Discovery channel talked about human cloning.
We snuggled under a throw blanket, and Charles wove his fingers through my hair. During one of the commercials, he looked right at me, and my heart jumped with his heavy gaze. He swept his nose slowly across my jaw, bringing his lips to my neck and inhaling.
The glow of the television reflected off his fangs, but, this time, he didn’t pull away. He cupped my face and gently kissed me, his fangs rubbing against my bottom lip. I shivered, partly from nervousness and partly from the desire building within me. He broke the kiss but didn’t move his face away from mine.
“Are you afraid?” he whispered.
“No.”
“You sure?”
My heart beat unsteadily, and I couldn’t infuse my voice with any level of certainty. “Yes?”
His fingers grazed over my thighs, between them. He kissed my neck, then pressed his lips near the curve of my ear. “Ready now?”
I wanted to say yes. He knew my secrets, and I’d accepted we’d take the issue of our ‘future’ one day at a time. There was no reason to resist my intimate desires toward him. Finally, I managed to squeak out a quiet, “I think so.”
He leaned back into the couch, chuckling. “Of course.”
I sat up. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
Faint amusement replaced the fire in his eyes. “No,” he said. “You were too busy thinking.”
I frowned.
Charles wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. “It’s okay,” he said. “It was a long day—let’s relax.”
I took his advice, but, inwardly, my frown remained. Hoping to get everything off my mind, I forced myself to focus on the television.
The airing had moved on from talk of human cloning to talk of curing hereditary abnormalities through stem cells, reminding me of the talk I’d had with Mrs. Liette about the rules of procreation in their world.
“I’m wondering—” I peeked up. “—about your sister?”
Charles dropped his head into his hands. “My mom brought her up?”