A sudden shot of adrenaline snapped her awake and she jerked forward, peering into his face. He looked very intent, brows drawn down, eyes narrowed. She glanced at the window. Although it faced south, not east, the sky had definitely begun to lighten. "Henry?"
He blinked, focused, and shook his head when he saw her expression, his smile both reassuring and slightly embarrassed. "It's all right, this happens every morning. It's like a warning." His voice took on the mechanical tones of a dozen science fiction movie computers. "You have fifteen minutes to reach minimum safe darkness."
'Fine." Vicki stood, still holding his wrist. "Fifteen minutes. Let's go."
'I was making a joke," he protested as she pulled him to his feet. "As warnings go, it's not really that definite. It's just a feeling."
Vicki sighed and shot an anxious glance out the window at the streaks of pink she was sure she could see touching the edges of the city. "Okay. It's just a feeling. What do you usually do when you feel it?"
'Go to bed."
'Well?"
He studied her face for a moment-his intent expression back-sighed in turn, and nodded. "You're right." Then he pulled his hands free, spun on his heel, and walked across the living room.
'Henry?"
Although he stopped, he didn't turn, merely looked back over his shoulder.
I don't have to stay if you're sure you're all right. Except he wasn't sure. That was why she was there. And while he might be regretting making the offer-she recognized second thoughts in his hesitation-the reason he'd made it still existed. It seemed that if they were to both get through sunrise, she'd have to treat this like any other job. The client fears that under certain conditions he may attempt suicide. I'm here to stop him. With a start, she realized he was still waiting for her to say something. "Uh, how do you feel?"
Henry watched the parade of emotions cross Vicki's face. This isn't any easier for you, is it? He thought. "I feel the sun," he said softly and held out his hand.
She took it with what he'd come to recognize as her working expression and together they made their way to the bedroom.
The first time Vicki had seen Henry's bed, she'd been irrationally disappointed. By that time she'd known he didn't spend the day locked in a coffin atop a pile of his native earth, but she'd been secretly hoping for something a little exotic. A king-size bed-"I bet your father would have loved to have one of those?" '-with white cotton sheets and a dark blue blanket was just too definitively normal looking.
This morning, she shook free of his hand and stopped just inside the closed door. The soft circle of light from the lamp on the bedside table left her effectively blind, but she knew, because he'd told her on that first visit, that the heavy blue velvet drapery over the window covered a layer of plywood painted black and caulked around the edges. Another curtain just inside the glass hid the wood from the prying eyes of the world. It was a barrier designed to keep the sun safely at bay and a barrier, Vicki knew, that Henry could rip down in seconds if he chose. Her body became the barrier before the door.
Standing by the bed, Henry hesitated, fingers on shirt buttons, surprised to find himself uncomfortable about undressing in front of a woman he'd been making love to- and feeding from-for months. This is ridiculous. She probably can't even see you from there, the light's so dim.
Shaking his head, he stripped quickly, reflecting that helplessness brought with it a much greater intimacy than sex.
He could feel the sun more strongly now, more strongly than he could remember feeling it before. You're sensitive to it this morning. That's all. God, he hoped it was all.
For Vicki, watching the flicker of pale skin as Henry moved in and out of the circle of light, standing guard at the door suddenly made less than no sense. "Henry? What the hell am I doing here?" She walked forward until his face swam into focus and then reached out and laid her hand gently on his bare chest, halting his movement. "I can't stop you?" She scowled, recognizing the words as inadequate. "I can't even slow you down."
'I know." He covered her fingers with his, marveling as he always did at the heat of her, at the feel of her blood pulsing just under the skin.
'Great." She rolled her eyes. "So what am I supposed to do if you make a run for the sun?"
'Be there."
'And watch you die?"
'No one, not even a vampire, wants to die alone."
It could have sounded facetious. It didn't. Hadn't she realized only hours before that was all she had to give him? But she hadn't realized, not then, that it might come to this.
Breathing a little heavily, wishing the light was strong enough for her to see his expression, Vicki managed not to yank her hand free. Be there. Bottom line, it was no more than Celluci had ever asked of her. Only the circumstances were different. "Jesus H. Christ, Henry." It took an effort, but she kept her voice steady, "You're not going to fucking die, okay? Just get your jammies on-or your tuxedo or whatever it is the undead sleep in-and get into bed."
He released her and spread his arms, his meaning plain.
'Fine." She pointed at the bed and glared at him while he did as he was told. Then, pushing her glasses hard against the bridge of her nose, she perched on the edge of the mattress. If she squinted, she could make out his features. "Are you okay?"
'Are you daring me not to be?"
'Henry!"