Count

28. The World of the Living Has Its Charms

"Hey, Inari," said a coworker friend of mine, "can I speak to you for a minute?"

"Sure," I said and followed her into the break room.

"So," she began. "A source just leaked to me that one of the biggest publishing houses in London has been covering up its violations of environmental protection guidelines. This is a huge story that's going to take a lot of research and work, and I was wondering if you'd like to help me."

"Yes!" I said. "Absolutely."

Reactive reporting was fine, but this kind of deep investigative journalism was what I lived for. A new project was just what I needed to help pull me out of my funk.

I dove into it with abandon, and after three weeks of late nights, we were ready to publish. On Friday, we presented our article to Ms. Neil and other board members, and they okayed it for publication.

We went out for drinks to celebrate. I was proud of the work we'd done and happy that my life was back on track. I was in such a good mood that I called up Malachi the next day and asked if I could come over to his place.

He'd been in and out of London, but I guessed that he wouldn't have found business here so frequently if not for me, which was sweet. This would be our fourth date.

We sat on the couch in his apartment, sipping white wine and talking. Malachi fiddled with a playing card. "Congratulations on finishing that article, love," Malachi said. "I can't wait to read it."

"Thank you," I said. "There's no feeling like rooting out corruption." I held up a clenched fist as I said it, being silly.

"Which makes me wonder why you ever kept the company of vampires."

I frowned and rested my glass between my knees. "They aren't all bad."

He exhaled sharply through his nose. His teasing manner slipped away to reveal something dark and severe. "Have you ever read the Inheritance Cycle?"

"The Eragon books? Yeah, I love them."

"Tell me, why was it vital that the evil king Galbatorix be stopped, even at the cost of lives?"

It had been a while since I'd read the books, but I thought I remembered the answer, and I saw where this was going. "He was immortal, so people would suffer under his tyranny for generations."

"Precisely. It's the universal truth that all things die. Immortality is despicable. An evil human will eventually perish, but vampires come to no natural end. They can go on murdering and cheating and raping us unless we do something about it."

"But Sergio isn't like that!"

Exasperated, he leaned forward, the card held still in his hand. "Humans fall into their trap because vampires are pretty, and we can't resist pretty things. But think about it: would you love Sergio if he weren't handsome? If he were inhumanly strong and drank blood and were ugly, would you see his monstrousness for what it was?"

That was a good point; humans seemed to lose all reasoning ability when beautiful things, or people, were involved. I thought about evil characters in movies that I couldn't help rooting for because they were attractive. Stripping their looks away, picturing them as hideous, I found myself repulsed. But was Sergio the same?

Malachi continued. "I bet he has a glass room in his house somewhere: a balcony or on the roof, perhaps."

I stayed silent, thinking about the observatory.

"Do you know what that's for? It's for killing vampires. You lock them inside during the night, then as the sun comes up..."

"Stop," I said, sick.

"Oh, they have laws governing their conduct between themselves," he continued icily. "Supposedly, murdering another vampire is criminal. But to those old, aristocratic types, laws never seem to apply."

I didn't want to believe it, but 'not wanting' wasn't a good reason to reject evidence. Disheartened, I stared at my wine, watching how the golden liquid rippled with minute movements of my legs and hands.

Malachi's voice gained a compassionate tone. "Inari, I understand how difficult this must be." He placed a hand on my thigh. "Let me help you forget, love."

I set down my wine and faced him, letting him scoot closer and kiss me. It was odd, after vampires, to kiss a warm, breathing person.

He was an excellent kisser, just the right balance of gentle and demanding. He snaked an arm around me and tugged me closer. He kissed my mouth, my shoulder, under my chin. "Let me show you how good a living man can make you feel."

I answered by standing and pulling him toward his bedroom.

Once inside, we tugged off our clothes while making out, sliding our hands over each other's bodies to feel out every plane and crevice. His skin was hot against mine.

I hadn't gotten laid in a while, and though I missed Sergio, Malachi was by no means a poor replacement. He was dashing, roguish⁠—nipping my ear and palming my breast.

"Hold on," he murmured, reaching over the side of the bed for a condom. He rolled it on.

I slid my hands up his back and drew him close. "Fuck me," I begged.

"With pleasure." He groaned as he entered me, handsome features screwed up in bliss. "You feel so good." He pressed deeper slowly, stretching me and letting me adjust.

I sighed dreamily. There was nothing like the first moments of sex—except maybe the final moments, or exposing corruption, or pizza.

Malachi slid his dick in and out, pressing unpolished kisses to every inch of my neck. His breath was ragged, his body warm and becoming slick with sweat as he fucked me. It was so different from Sergio, yet so natural.

I tangled my fingers in his mess of hair. "Malachi." His name was a moan and a sharp profanity all in one. I encouraged him with a constant stream of little sighs, loving the snug feeling of him inside me.

"Do you know how incredibly sexy you are?" he asked. "If not, it's a crying shame."

I laughed. "This experience is pretty convincing."

"Good." He thrust harder. Then he slowed, then built up speed again, then slowed.

"Oh, fuck," I groaned. This was lovely torture.

He picked up speed again, this time showing no signs of stopping. "I'm close, Inari," he said.

"Me too."

We came together, tensing and undulating as ripples of pleasure spread through us. It was wonderful. Malachi was wonderful.

Yet still, a voice in my mind whispered, Sergio.