The silence stretches on. Ten minutes. Then fifteen, and twenty. When I can no longer stand the wait, I force myself up the stairs.
Avery is standing at the window, his back to me.
I'm sorry. It's all I can think to say.
He doesn't answer. Doesn't move. His mind is a black void, empty and cold. I've never felt anything like it. Even the temperature in the room has fallen. I find myself shivering, despite the bright sun, and know it's Avery who is doing it.
I have only one excuse, I begin again. I was desperate to help David. He is my friend, and I must try to save him. Williams offered nothing but the possibility that he might be able to make some kind of deal with the Revengers. When I saw Lawson on the beach, I thought I might be able to make my own deal. What Lawson told me-
Avery's voice cuts in, quiet and controlled. You believed I kidnapped David. You came here and searched my house and broke into a sacred place without first coming to me. You did all this despite what's happened between us.
His back is still to me, and despite the dark energy emanating from him, the need to be closer compels me forward. I stand beside him, so close we almost touch, but unbidden, I can't take the chance to reach out.
That's a wise decision, he tells me.
Avery. You must understand my position. You've been a wonderful teacher. I don't think I would have survived the changes without you. But David is my friend. I can't let him die without a fight. I won't. You talk about our natures. It's not in mine to abandon him.
I feel Avery move before my eyes register it. One moment he's next to me at the window, the next he's across the room, one hand resting on the casket of the young girl.
"This was my wife, Marianna." His tone is weary, his voice sounds ageless and old. "We met when she was a girl in the early nineteen hundreds. I didn't want to fall in love with her. Her father was a patient at the hospital where I practiced. He had tuberculosis, a death sentence in those days. His wife had already succumbed to the disease and there was nothing I could do to help save render him comfortable and free of pain. He knew he was dying. He begged me to look after his daughter because she had no one else and I agreed. When I saw her for the first time, at his funeral, I knew I was lost."
His fingers trace the delicate lines of the portrait. "She was so beautiful. Pure of heart and spirit. It had been a long time since I allowed myself to form an attachment to a mortal. I was more vulnerable than she. Still, despite my apprehension, I let myself fall in love. It was glorious at first. It was glorious until she learned of my 'nature.' She was twenty-five when she killed herself."
His eyes, clouded with visions of the past, clear and darken dangerously when he fixes them on me. Don't speak to me of
"nature," Anna. You have no idea what lies in store for you. The sooner you learn to separate yourself from the affairs of mortals, the better it will be.
I don't understand you, Avery. You certainly have not separated yourself from mortals-you're a doctor.
He waves a dismissive hand. My vain attempt to make amends for a hundred years of indiscretion. It took me that long to realize I wanted to live in harmony with men, not prey on them. Becoming a doctor enables me to do that without becoming involved.
But there are caskets here to attest to the fact that you didn't always feel that way. You've fallen in love with mortals again and again.
"To my eternal regret," he thunders.
The sound of his voice makes me jump. "I'll probably feel the same way in a hundred years," I say quietly. "But first, I have a friend who has been missing for twenty-four hours. If you can't or won't help me anymore, I understand. But I'll find David, and if there is a vampire involved in his disappearance, he'll regret it, I promise you."
So now you think Williams is involved.
He's picked it out of my head before I realize I'm actually thinking it. Yes. He's the only other person who knows of our connection. I think you should know what he told me today. All of it.
I let him sort through the things Williams said. When I recall his comments about Avery wanting me gone, he stiffens.
"I never told him I wanted you to leave."
"Well, there's obviously a reason he wants me out of the way. Do you have any idea what that might be?"
Avery considers the question, leaving his mind open to allow me to follow his probe. But he shakes his head after a moment.
There is nothing in your becoming a vampire to threaten Williams. He is an old soul. Almost as old as I am. You are mistaken about him.
No.
I've taken a step back from Avery. I may not know everything about him, but there's something not right about Williams. He lied to me about your feelings, for one thing. If it's true I don't threaten him in any way, why does he want me to believe you think I would be better off gone? It's the one argument he could make that might convince me.
I've already told you, Avery counters stiffly. I never said I wanted you to leave.
Then what is it? What is it about me that threatens him?
Avery moves toward the door . I don't want to stay in this room any longer. I'm going back downstairs.
He waits for me to pass by him, pulling the door shut behind us, before he adds, Any questions you have for Williams, you can ask him yourself. He'll be here in thirty minutes.
It's a long thirty minutes. Avery disappears into the library, leaving me alone to wait in the living room with nothing but my thoughts.
I've exhausted all of my options. Donaldson is dead, Lawson says the Revengers had nothing to do with David's kidnapping, and I seem to have alienated my best and only ally, Avery. Will he allow me to go after Williams? Or will he stop me from doing what I know I must?
When the doorbell rings and Avery doesn't appear to answer it, I go myself to the door. Williams is dressed as he was this morning, even has another cigar in his hand. He seems surprised to see me.
"I expected Avery."
"Why?" I counter. "You and I had the appointment, remember?"
He shrugs and pushes by me. "Is he here?"
"Does it make a difference?"
He tries to get into my head, but I don't let him. And I know he can't sense Avery's presence, house "security" would prevent that.
Very well. It's probably better if we speak in private anyway.
He leads the way to the living room. With the air of someone very much at home, he crosses to the sideboard opposite the fireplace and reaches underneath for glasses and a decanter. He raises a glass in my direction. "Would you care for a drink?"
I shake my head and watch as he pours himself a healthy two fingers. Even at this distance, I can tell what it is by the rich oak smell.
Scotch.
Williams takes a sip and smiles approvingly. Avery always has the best.
He seats himself on the couch, crosses one leg over the other and looks at me. Are you going to sit down or do you plan to hover over me all evening?
I don't plan to do anything with you all evening. Tell me what you've learned.
A little wrinkle of impatience creases his brow. You really must learn to slow down. If you're lucky, you'll live a very, very long time. However if you insist on rushing full speed ahead toward every little problem that presents itself, well, I'm afraid that might prove to be your undoing.
Little problem? I've taken a step toward him. Outrage exudes like sweat from every pore of my body. It's overwhelming, this blind fury, something I've never before experienced, and it scares me.
Williams, however seems unaffected and certainly unafraid. The only reaction to my exhibition of temper is a raised eyebrow. See what I mean? You'll burn yourself out if you continue this way. I've seen it happen.
He's toying with me.
I know it. I should be able to deal with it. But too much has happened to me in the last few days, too many mental and physical changes with no chance to adapt. All the anger, frustration and fear boil to the surface. One moment I'm human, the next, animal.
With no thought except that I want to wipe that smug look off Williams face, I lunge at him, teeth and nails bared.
The ferocity of the attack knocks him off balance. He is not prepared for such a physical reaction. The glass flies from his hand, and his arms go up to shield his face. But he is older and stronger and when the shock of the unexpected wears off, he begins to fight back.
I know at once I can't win against him. Unlike Donaldson, he is a skilled fighter. He flips me onto my back and I'm pinned under him like an insect on the head of a pin. His lips roll back to expose sharp teeth, one hand is at my jugular.
What did I tell you? He hisses into my head. Impatience will be your undoing.
I look into his eyes. He will kill me, wants to kill me, and I am powerless to save myself.
I close my eyes, lift my chin to proffer the pulsing artery like a gift. I want it over. I can't save David. I can't save myself.
Suddenly, I just want it over.