"Did you ever think about ... you know, changing?"
Saephan gave her a blank look. “Oh, you mean rebirth? Becoming a vampire? We thought about it, but then we'd both have to get our blood from someone else and I'm not sure I'd like that, being as how it's such an ... intimate experience. Most vampires pair up with humans, if they pair up at all. And of course, Lord Raphael would have to give permission for my rebirth in any event."
"Rebirth?"
"That's what we call it. Seems better than calling it what it is."
She looked up with interest. “What is it?"
"In a word, complicated. It behaves like a particularly aggressive virus, gobbling up everything in its path, but there's so much more to it than that. How do you explain Raphael's mental power, for example? His ability to communicate with his vampires telepathically, to affect the physical world with a thought?"
"Magic?"
He made a pained expression. “I'm a scientist; my mind cannot encompass that possibility. Let's say instead that we don't yet have the knowledge to explain it."
"Yeah? Well, this—” She touched her injured shoulder with a slight wince. “Is pretty magical."
"Isn't it though? Of course, Lord Raphael's blood is far stronger than most. I've done some rudimentary research on the healing properties of vampire blood—I'm a trauma surgeon, so research isn't exactly my area of expertise, but it's quite astounding, really."
"Don't let the Botox crowd know about it. They'll storm the walls."
"Isn't that the truth? No worries there. My lips are sealed."
She focused on the other part of his revelation. “So Raphael has to give permission before any of his people can make a new vamp?"
He looked as if he wanted to argue with her choice of words, then smiled instead. “Well, naturally. The vampire lords control the population quite stringently. Can't have stray vampires running all over the country; they'd soon outnumber the regular folks and where would that leave us? Or them, for that matter. You want more eggs?” he asked, noticing her empty plate. “I'd be happy—"
"No, thank you. That's more than I usually eat for breakfast in an entire week. Speaking of which, how long was I out?"
"Thirty-eight hours, give or take. I got here shortly before sunrise yesterday, and you'd already been under for quite awhile. Somebody really did a job on you."
She picked up her empty plate and carried it to the sink. Saephan was there, taking it from her, then rinsing and putting it in the dishwasher. “You need to rest,” he reminded her.
"I feel pretty good, a little sore,” she said absently, distracted by the sight of her front door. Frowning, she walked slowly across the living room. There was—was that sawdust?—all over everything. Probably because a new door had been installed. She gave Saephan a confused look over her shoulder.
"New door,” he confirmed. A look of realization lit his face. “But, you don't remember that, do you? I wasn't here, of course, but I believe Lord Raphael had to quite literally knock the door down to get to you. He saved your life, you know."
"I know,” she said somberly. “I remember that much.” She was surveying the door, running her hands around the edges.
"Okay, enough excitement. Back to bed with you."
Cyn huffed out a breath. “I don't think so. I've got work to do.” She made her way back to the kitchen and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee be fore heading up the stairs to her office.
"Ms Leighton, I must insist. Lord Raphael has entrusted me—"
Her heavy office door swung closed, cutting off the good doctor's last words. Her old friend Benita had betrayed her two nights ago, almost to her death. And Cyn intended to find out why.
Chapter Forty
Cynthia knew the moment Raphael stepped into her condo, felt the wash of power singing in her blood, as if her body recognized him on some totally different level. She stood and opened her office door, hearing his voice downstairs as he spoke to Saephan. Not bothering to listen to what they were saying, she walked back to her computer and sat down, wanting to finish what she'd started earlier. This case was about to come to a head and she had every intention of being involved in the final confrontation.
"Dr. Saephan tells me you should be resting."
Cyn responded without turning, her fingers flashing over the keys to save and print her work. “I am resting.” She took a moment before turning, reaching automatically for the walls that had always surrounded her, shields that kept her from caring too much, from depending on anyone but herself, from letting anyone else care about her. And nothing was there. Her walls had crumbled, and in the empty spaces was only Raphael. She sighed and swung her chair around to find him watching her with those black eyes that seemed to see right through her. A rush of heat took her breath away. He was leaning casually against the doorframe of her office, long legs encased in faded denims hung low on narrow hips, a black turtleneck sweater smoothed over his broad chest beneath a leather jacket that showed off those wonderfully wide shoulders.
Was that all there was, this automatic lust that seized her every time she saw him? Was it no more than the unique biology of a vampire that made her long for him when they were apart? She wished it was true. It would be so much simpler if it was. But it wasn't. Oh certainly, there was lust. She could feel her body responding to him even now, from across the room. But it was so much more than that. How could she define it, even to herself? It was as if he weighed more than gravity as he stood there in her office, as if the world held its breath when he walked by. She stood and walked over to the door.
"I owe you an apology,” she said, looking up at him.