Part 25 (2/2)

He scowled. ”If I ever finish... ”

”Brovik's made an accountant of a great artist.”

Kurt smiled slightly. ”I'm much more than that that. I thought perhaps I should go back to my hotel and not inconvenience you?”

”You kidding? I want you to inconvenience me, again and again again and again. Do you have to go back soon?”

He fixed on that distant point where all the marble hardness of his features melted away, until he was vulnerable as the boy I once knew. He found the notes he was looking for and began to play softly as he spoke, ”Brovik called before you woke. I told him I've- uh- found you. I'm free to stay awhile.”

”How long?”

He looked up, smiling impishly. ”How does eternity eternity sound?” sound?”

I was sucked too dry by Ethan to offer him much. It was too easy for him to fall victim and I drain him of all I lacked. ”Kurt, I don't like men very much.”

Amus.e.m.e.nt played over his face. ”This is a warning?”

”You know what I am.”

He shrugged. ”I'm not as callow as I look.”

”But your body is forever eighteen years old, and feels all the immediacy of that age.”

He looked up from the keys with an ironic little gleam. ”Well- lucky you.”

”Lucky me.”

One moment he was all he looked, a lovely, charming boy, the next something else entirely, wise, knowing and deep, an ancient elf of the forest whose solemn eyes concealed a wellspring of pa.s.sion and oceans of rage, that escaped in tantalizing drops when he played or made love. Yet, I couldn't taste all he contained, because he was Brovik's slave and I was forbidden to trespa.s.s there. I had to be content with his body, but believe me Joe, it was a great consolation prize.

I held out my hand. ”Come back to bed.”

He lay down on his back. I raised myself over him, tracing the tattoo on his forearm with my fingertip. ”The blood didn't fade it.”

”Brovik said it could be removed. I refused.”

”Why?”

Shadows fell over his face. ”To remind me... ”

”Of what?”

Kurt looked into a very different place than the one he saw when he played. ”Bargains with the devil. It's too painful to speak of.” He pulled me down to him, whispering into my neck, ”For now, let's forget... ”

SIXTEEN.

Kurt held some major demons at bay, but respecting his wishes, I didn't question him further and thoroughly enjoyed his company. Longing for the experiences we'd both missed as mortal kids, we'd hang out in the Village among the students, not to hunt but to hear their banter and feel their excitement. Here Kurt wasn't his usual solemn and dignified self, but frenetic and playful, as we ran from shops and restaurants to downtown clubs, and then back to my bed.

He liked rock music, which surprised me, spending hours searching out stores where he bought piles of records that he paid for with an American Express card, while I looked enviously on.

”Must be nice to buy whatever you want,” I said, on one of those occasions.

Boyish mischief sparkled in his smile. ”What would you like? I'll buy it. Anything. How about the entire store?” He picked up an alb.u.m from a display. ”Here, Chopin, I will buy for you- yes?” I shook my head no. ”Why is it wrong to accept gifts from your lover?”

”That's what my suitors call the jewelry they give. I consider it payment for services rendered.”

”Not from me. You liked the books I used to give, didn't you?”

”Books are different. You were sharing a part of your soul.” I pressed up against him. ”You're the only gift I desire. The gift that keeps on giving giving, and giving giving and and giving giving.”

He choked back laughter. ”Please, you embarra.s.s me.”

We pa.s.sed a bodega bodega on the way out of the record store, where large buckets full of red roses and other flowers stood reminding me of the night Ethan had danced with me in the ballroom full of roses, presenting me with rubies. Now that was barter. But it also reminded me of the last moment I stood in the sun. I brushed away the demon whispering in my ear, as Kurt searched among the flowers, until he was satisfied with one perfect, blood red rose. on the way out of the record store, where large buckets full of red roses and other flowers stood reminding me of the night Ethan had danced with me in the ballroom full of roses, presenting me with rubies. Now that was barter. But it also reminded me of the last moment I stood in the sun. I brushed away the demon whispering in my ear, as Kurt searched among the flowers, until he was satisfied with one perfect, blood red rose.

He kissed me softly and presented it. ”This won't offend?”

”No, it's lovely. Thanks.”

We wandered hand-in-hand down Bleeker Street, among crowds of unsuspecting kids, blending in perfectly, old enough to be their grandparents and not quite human.

I'd often waken during the day to find Kurt talking business on the phone, with mortals in Brovik's employ. He'd sometimes leave at twilight to meet them dressed in a dark suit, and tinted gla.s.ses, his golden curls gelled darker. He appeared slightly older, if hardly his true age. I'd wrinkle my nose, telling him he looked like a nerd. But, on those evenings when he was free, I'd wake to find him at the piano composing.

He still responded evasively whenever I attempted to draw him out about his past and we never discussed our condition. We acted as mortal lovers do, went out, had fun, and then fell onto my futon to make fevered love. But finally one night, vampirism rudely b.u.t.ted in.

A light burned in the bathroom when I awoke. The rest of the apartment was dark, the heavy blinds and curtains still closed. Drowsily aroused, I rolled over to snuggle up to Kurt, but he was gone. The sun hadn't set yet. Where was he?

Rising from the tangle of bedclothes, I crept up on him as he stood naked before the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection, skin blanched yellow-white as the inner flesh of an almond. His shoulder was icy cold, but he didn't even flinch when I touched him.

He turned to me. ”The beast awakens.”

He was a ghastly caricature of himself, his lush mouth gray and drawn, face etched stone hard, usually luminous eyes flat, blue b.u.t.tons, hair brittle and dull. Pus.h.i.+ng me aside, he grabbed his clothes. I switched on the lights. He covered his eyes like a movie Dracula when sunlight floods in on him, snarling- literally, ”Shut them, d.a.m.n you!” ”Shut them, d.a.m.n you!”

I snapped them off, and lit one of the hundreds of votive candles we'd bought the night before. A small flame furtively licked up the sides of the gla.s.s as Kurt pulled on his jeans and s.h.i.+rt. He glanced at the tattoo on his forearm for a moment, noticed me looking and snapped, ”Why do you stare?”

”I know the best spots... ”

”You want to see this? It arouses you s.e.xually?” He pressed his body against me, for once not raring to go. ”By all means accompany me. See what I am.” He pushed me away. ”Get dressed! Can't stand it much longer.”

A delayed feeder. He'd waited until the last possible moment to feed, when instinct pushed one mercilessly to become a ravenous, mindless beast. Why? Ethan said this was dangerous. He'd waited until the last possible moment to feed, when instinct pushed one mercilessly to become a ravenous, mindless beast. Why? Ethan said this was dangerous.

We finally emerged into the street. ”The piers? The river is good for dumping them.”

”No.” He set out at a brisk walk. ”My flavor has a distinctive smell.”

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