touches to simple things like his shoe nudging hers, or his thigh, or his elbow.
He really came to dislike weekends. Like this one. Because they kept him from seeing Emma.
Cliff settled himself on a barstool in his small kitchen, picked up the foot-long sandwich he’d just put together, and took a big bite.
Stuart spoke in a room down the hallway. “Hey, Cliff. You want to join us for a poker game later?”
“No, thanks,” he said. “I want to put some miles in on the treadmill.”
“Okay.” Some of the smile left Stuart’s voice, hinting that he’d guessed Cliff’s reasons.
Cliff had begun to hear voices. Voices that urged violence and anger and filled his mind with images that sickened him.
Those voices were louder today. Much louder. Something he’d begun to notice tended to happen on days he didn’t see Emma.
Damn, he wished she worked weekends.
As soon as the thought dawned, he swore and called himself a selfish bastard. She deserved some time off and no doubt needed it after the long workweeks.
How do you think she spends that time off? a sly voice sneered. Alone?
A gravelly laugh filled his head. Not hardly. You think she’s saving herself for you? A fucking vampire?
She’s probably out with another man right now. Letting him kiss her. Letting him touch her.
If it weren’t for the network, you could be that man. You could be with her right now.
You should kill them.
Kill them all.
Cliff clenched his fists, squishing the hell out of his sandwich as gruesome images filled his mind. Every muscle tensed as he closed his eyes and struggled to quiet the voices. To shut them out. To forget the things they showed him.
This is not who I am, he told himself mentally. This is not who I am.
He wasn’t a monster. He didn’t slaughter men and women who tried to help him.
He saved them. He protected them.
Every time a murderous vision leaped to the forefront of his mind, he superimposed one over it of him helping network employees the day the mercenaries attacked. Of him digging Sadie out of the rubble. Of Sadie hugging him and calling him her hero. Of rescuing Emma.
Emma.
So beautiful and so kind.
Emma smiling.
Emma laughing.
Emma touching his arm.
Her thigh pressing against his.
The violent images faded. The voices quieted.
Relief left him a little light-headed as Cliff opened his eyes. When he saw his mangled sandwich, he shook his head and tried to piece it together enough to eat without having to grab a spoon.
Yeah. He definitely needed to put in some time on the treadmill. Running himself ragged often helped ease some of the agitation that had begun to afflict him with more frequency and greater intensity. But he would have to wait for that. Bastien and Melanie were in the lab with the treadmills, and it sounded like things were turning amorous.
“The vampires will hear us,” Melanie protested softly in the other room.
Yep. Things had definitely turned amorous in there. He glanced around for his earbuds.
“What happens at the network,” Bastien murmured persuasively, “stays at the network.”
Melanie’s breath caught as fabric rustled.
“Um,” Cliff said with a grimace. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to them engage in a quickie and wasn’t seeing his earbuds anywhere. “That doesn’t mean we want to hear it. It’d be too much like listening to our brother and sister do it.” Not quite, but close enough.
“Dude, speak for yourself,” Stuart said. “They won’t let me subscribe to the porn channels here.”
Laughing, Cliff shook his head.
Though several more vampires now resided on sublevel 5, Stuart was Cliff’s favorite.
Bastien sighed. “And I believe that’s Chris and Seth striding up the hallway, so…”
A hasty rustle of clothing ensued, making Cliff wonder just how far Bastien had managed to coax Melanie into going. He grinned, imagining how red her face must be a moment later when Chris Reordon and Seth entered.
“You need to add a quiet room down here,” Bastien drawled.
Yes, they did.
“Why?” Chris asked. “For interrogation purposes?”
“Okay,” Bastien replied, voice bland.
A moment passed. Then… “Oh hell no,” Reordon blurted. “I am not spending tens of thousands of dollars to soundproof a room down here so you two can have sex without the vampires hearing you.”
“You want the vampires to hear us?”
Cliff and the other vampires laughed.
“No,” Chris sputtered. “I mean, I don’t want you having sex! Not while you’re both on the clock. Melanie is supposed to be working—”
“She is.” Bastien defended her, an edge entering his voice. “Long hours.”