Bring Me to Life Read online

  "You told me to go. You told me."

  "All right. I know I did. I remember as well as you. Look." Rubbing my forehead, I lean forward again. If I were still human, I'd have a headache right now. Actually, I probably would have been dead for decades, but that's just wishful thinking at this point. "I don't...I can't..."

  "You're not backing out?"

  "No. No. I'm not."

  "Then may we come?"

  I could cry. Even the "we" fails to pique my interest beyond a vague acknowledgement that he said such a word, that he'll be bringing a companion with him.

  "Yes." In that single word, the previous seven decades fall away. It's all been leading up to this moment, a favour called in after all this time.

  "Yes, you may."

  I refuse to give Will my address, instead asking him how long it'll be before he and his companion show up. I don't ask for any names, and he volunteers none. The only thing I'm worried about is Will not copying down my contact details.

  I insist on him putting nothing in writing, still paranoid about such information falling into the wrong hands. I give him nothing more than the name of the town in which I live and a promise to narrow down his search parameters later. Once he's in the vicinity, he can call, and I'll give him more details. Only after he's assured me there's no one on his trail.

  There's impatience in his voice, a lack of understanding as to why my paranoia's lasted all this time, but he goes along with it. Yes, I owe him this favour, but it's a massive one, and he knows he needs to tread carefully to ensure my compliance.

  He tells me it'll be a few days---or rather, nights---before they arrive, so until then, I'm on edge. Alyssa knows something's up, but I say nothing. She's completely innocent of my past, and I don't know what I'm going to tell her about the period of time Will and Company are here. She doesn't need to know they exist because then she'll start asking how we met, and I want to keep her separate from all that.

  I make my excuses, all of which clang like blue notes against my ears, but Alyssa accepts them, or pretends to. She's a better actress than I am a liar.

  Three nights after the phone call, I'm trying to concentrate on Dracula---no self-respecting vampire fails to read it every so often---but I can't keep myself on the armchair. I can't stop fiddling with the pages of the book. I can't help but look at the clock every ten seconds. My mobile rings, and of course, it's Will, asking for more detailed directions. I make him promise it's just him and whatshisname, those two alone. No one tailing them, no one acting like an undead shadow.

  "For Christ's sake, Nathan." He speaks through gritted teeth; I can tell that much even over the phone. Impatience, yes, but no doubt concern for his companion too. "Just give me the damn address."

  "Pardon?"

  "Please?"

  Good manners are all I require. That, and acceptance of my concerns. I have my reasons.

  "We'll be there in about half an hour," he tells me, and the phone goes dead in my hand without so much as a good night and thank you.

  So much for good manners.

  "Good God." There's no sound in the room apart from the ticking of the clock and the fading echo of my expression of amazement. This is really happening. I'm going to see Will after oh-so-many years.

  I've lived for a century, give or take, but the half hour leading up to that knock on the door is possibly the longest I've ever lived through. My hand glues itself to the handle once I've unlocked the door, refuses to turn. It's only when my stomach flips over a few times that I say to myself, Open the door or throw up; your choice.

  I pick option A, and seeing him again after all this time is like a punch to my churning guts. Shit, he hasn't changed at all. The tenement lighting shows up his fair hair, light stubble, sharp cheekbones, all the features I might have fallen for, were my heart not already stolen by another. Were he not a constant, (sort of) living reminder of the one I failed to forget. There's a body behind him, if that's not an improper use of the word. A body still standing. But I don't pay the third party much attention beyond a cursory acknowledgement that he's there.

  Will's clothes are far more modern now, of course. I don't know if I expected a three-piece suit, but he's entirely twenty-first century.

  "Will." I can't say anything else, but it's a good start. An acknowledgement that might just be a welcome, a test to see if he answers and proves himself not an apparition.

  "You live somewhere people can just walk right up to the door?"

  "Um, what?"

  "I'm surprised you didn't say pardon. I mean this." He sweeps a hand in an arcing gesture and fights against the grimace I can still detect. "You don't live in, say, a tenement block with an intercom system. Anyone could show up."

  "I keep my front door locked."

  "Considering how security-conscious you are," Will points out, lifting his eyebrows, "that seems a tad careless."

  "If someone finds out where I live, an intercom system won't reverse that monumental screw-up, will it?" I ask, and we both know I'm referring to a specific someone.

  I'm not scared of Adam. I just don't want to see him; not that I think he'd ever hurt me if we ever did meet again.

  I'm not saying he wouldn't try. He'd just find it very difficult.

  "Look, maybe I should introduce you to Kieran." Will stands aside to let the other, no doubt nervous, visitor step forward.

  I automatically reach out to shake his hand in welcome; it's only polite, after all.

  The physical contact jolts through me like electricity. He's so warm.

  I cock my head, turn my attention back to Will. He meets my questioning gaze admirably.

  Inside, I'm trying to ask him what the hell is going on, but my brain refuses to tell my mouth to work.

  "Aren't you going to ask us in?" Will suggests, and there's a hint of playfulness in his voice. A vague attempt to lift the mood, which falls flat instantly.

  "Yeah, I mean, don't you have to ask him across the threshold?" This Kieran half-laughs, and the sound peters out when I shoot him a glance of irritation.

  Luckily for him, it's a momentary thing, and immediately, Will has my attention again.

  "He's not a newborn." Now it's my turn to speak through gritted teeth. I've spoken on my own doorstep, and though vampires are accepted up to a certain point, legalised, I prefer not to advertise my undeadness to any possible passers-by.

  Discretion is usually my watchword. One of many.

  "He's still fucking warm. "

  "Shouldn't I be?" Kieran sounds as uncertain as I feel, but I still can't bring myself to look at him. "I mean, I thought...Will? Haven't you told him?"

  "Told me what, Will? Told me what?"

  Will shifts his weight from one foot to the other, draws himself up to his full six feet however many inches. He's not bridling. He's not scared.

  He's not making some base attempt to threaten me with his stature. He's waiting for the penny to drop and for me to say it out loud.

  "You haven't told me he's still alive?" I can't believe he's been so...he's done this...he's so damn... "Fuck." I thump the doorframe with one fist, and Kieran jumps. "You..." I work the fingers on that hand a few times, stretching the muscles, then pinch the bridge of my nose. "You told me...

  You let me think..."

  "Look, Nathan---"

  "You let me think he was already dead. He's not a newborn; he's a fucking---"

  "No," Will says, and that monosyllable tells me he's about to say the words I never, ever wanted to hear from him. "I want you to help me change him."

  Chapter 5

  MY FLAT HAS A KITCHEN, but I hardly ever use it for cooking. At the moment, it's being used for a discussion. A heated one. While Kieran Delaney sits in my living room---oh, how apt that is; a living room for the only breather in the house, outnumbered as he is two to one by the corpse contingent.

  I still can't believe Will's done this to me.

  So. While Kieran Delaney sits, alive, in my living room, Will Bos
worth (dead) and Nathan Stephenson (likewise) dance around the issue.

  "When you asked if this place was suitable for a newborn, I thought you meant..."

  Will lifts his eyebrows. I don't know if he's urging me to go on, or trying to look innocent.

  "I thought you meant he already was."

  "Yes. Well." He looks up to the ceiling, as if seeking divine intervention, but given the nature of what we are, I don't reckon he'll find it. "I couldn't think of anyone else to ask."

  " Yo u didn't ask, though." I thump the worktop with a balled fist, and he jumps, glances toward the door. "Don't worry; he won't hear us,"

  I say. "His hearing won't be all that sharp, you know, what with him still being human."

  "Yes. Yes, I know." Will has the good grace to look contrite, lowering his eyelashes and staring at the floor, shoulders hunched.

  "Will, you..." I lift up my palms, pleading with him to understand, and the look on his face tells me he does. But he's doing this anyway.

  "After everything..."

  "I love him, Nathan."

  Well, doesn't that just stop me in my tracks.

  All the excuses I was searching for, the reasons to say no outright, just melt away in the face of such honesty.

  "Fuck." I seem to be swearing an awful lot more since this man came back into my life.

  "He's okay with this. He knows what he's doing."

  "That makes one of us," I mutter.

  "I know you don't approve, but who else was I supposed to go to? You know I couldn't ask Adam."

  Even after all this time, a casual mention of his name is like a knife in my heart. I must have visibly grimaced because Will's voice immediately softens. "He just doesn't have the self-control needed."

  And don't we all know it. "How much does he know?" I thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the living room.

  "That we've known each other for decades. At first, he thought we'd, you know." Will gives a short laugh, which sounds forced, but it's enough to at least begin to break the ice.

  "As if," I murmur. "Ridiculous."

  "Yeah, all right, all right. I'm not your type, but I like to think I'm not that hideous." He grins, and it appears more natural than his laugh ever did.

  Maybe he's beginning to feel at ease in this situation. "Anyway, I explained we'd never..."

  "Did he ask why?"

  "I thought saying 'because Nathan was involved with someone else who forced him to change and whom he can no longer bear to be reminded of' would be too much."

  "Wise decision. So what did you say?"

  "That you'd been involved with someone else, it ended badly, and after that, you cut yourself off from our social circle to make a fresh start."

  "Did he ask you to define 'end badly'?"

  "I let him think it was a normal break-up."

  So much intrigue, stretching back decades. I wonder if the full truth will ever come out to everyone involved, and that makes me shudder. It's not a shiver---never that; I can't be disturbed by outside temperatures, after all---but something remarkably similar to discomfort ripples my spine.

  There's no reason to suspect Adam will reappear in my life, but I never expected Will to, either.

  Sure, we communicated from a distance, but those were the key words: from a distance.

  "Are you sure no one knows you're here?" I ask.

  "Yes, Nathan. I told you. Several times."

  "Okay, okay. Good. Just checking. Didn't Loverboy---" My gaze flicks over to the closed kitchen door.

  "His name's Kieran. Kieran Delaney. You know that."

  I don't know whether the hint of sarcasm in my voice is anger or jealousy, and I resort to the extremely childish, extremely twenty-first century, "Whatever."

  Will raises his brows and says nothing. I notice his fingertips tapping on the worktop, though. No doubt impatience, frustration, and a desire for me to just get on with agreeing to what he asks of me.

  "Kieran. Of course. How could I forget? And what does he say about me allegedly stepping away from our former social circle but still keeping in touch with you from time to time?"

  "I phrased it as you touching base."

  "Wouldn't telling him so much about me---"

  "It's not so much, Nathan. Just as much as he needs to know."

  "Wouldn't telling him anything about me leave him open to, well, you know. Wouldn't it make it more likely that things would come out and be revealed?" I know I sound paranoid, and I am. I freely admit that.

  "I had to tell him something. Too little, and he'd think I was communicating with a secret lover, and I don't want him thinking I'm cheating."

  "Heavens." I lift my eyebrows. "It must be serious."

  "Don't take the piss, Nathan."

  "Hark at you being all 2012," I say, and the sarcasm positively drips off my tongue like some syrupy poison. I don't know what's wrong with me; I'm never normally like this. I'm a stickler for good manners, don't like swearing, have been indulging in profanity rather more than I'd like in recent days, and oh God, it's Will. He's here, and I'm back in the forties, and it's panicking me.

  Will's here, and wherever he is, Adam's never far behind.

  "Too little, and Kieran would think I was being secretive," Will says, amending his earlier phraseology probably on behalf of my delicate sensibilities.

  "Too much, and Adam would be able to track me down."

  "You think Kieran would land you in it like that?"

  "Adam Locke can be very persuasive."

  "I haven't even seen him in ages. He's been keeping his distance." Will takes a step closer and rests his hand on my shoulder. I can't work out if it's a burden or a comfort. "But you know..." He chews his lip, narrows his eyes. This is Will Bosworth searching for the right words again, looking for the most persuasive speech he can make to bring me over to his way of thinking.

  "Eventually, he'll show up. He'll see me with Kieran..."

  "Oh, don't try to lay a guilt trip on me, William." I shrug off his hand in strong distaste.

  "It's not your love life he wants to command."

  "That's not what I meant at all."

  "No?" Again, I glance at the door, wondering what on Earth is going through Kieran's mind right now.

  "No. It isn't. You think I'm laying a guilt trip on you because wah, wah, wah---" he waves his hands in the air like a really bad dancer trying to control his limbs and failing "---if you don't help me change Kieran into a vampire, Adam will get to hear of my human lover, get all jealous that someone else is happy, and try to fuck things up for me by killing him. And when he does that, Kieran will try to save his skin by telling him you're still alive---"

  "Actually, I hadn't thought of that. I was stuck on the guilt trip thing and me being the only one you can ask to ensure your eternal bliss with lover ---"

  He scowls.

  "I mean, with Kieran. It hadn't occurred to me that Kieran might grass me up to stop Adam going crazy at him---"

  "Aw, shit." Will's hands drop to his sides, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I've completely put you off, haven't I?"

  "No." The negative flying out of my mouth surprises me as well as Will. His eyes widen in obvious shock, and me? I can't believe what I'm hearing from myself. "Will. I've never changed anyone before."

  "I know."

  "I never wanted to change anyone."

  "I know that too."

  "Why me? Why ask? You know I never wanted anything to do with all this." I can't work out what to say next, but fate saves me with a creak of the door.

  Kieran peeks round, looking like an uncertain child wondering if it's okay to enter the room.

  Compared to Will and me, I suppose he is. He's in his mid-twenties, so that makes him nearly eighty years younger than me, many more years younger than Will.

  "I hope you don't mind me interrupting you guys."

  "Course not." Will opens one arm out, gesturing for Kieran to enter the room and come closer.

  I look down
while that happens. Given the subject matter of this whole conversation and the ghost of Adam Locke, whom I just can't seem to bloody exorcise, it's too painful to see another couple's closeness.

  "Please do. Please, just..." I sweep my hand in front of me, showing off this boxy kitchen, sarcastically inviting Kieran in, although he's already here. Bit hard to get rid of either of them now.

  "Just what, Nathan?" The way Will speaks is a dare. Just you try to make Kieran feel unwelcome.

  The cheek of him. It's my house. "Please just waltz in and dist---"

  "Um, maybe we should..." Kieran nods in the general direction of the front door, and a ripple of guilt runs through me. I have had some preparation time for this meeting. I could have said no then, stopped Will even coming here. But he said he needed my help, and curiosity got the better of me.

  "No; don't mind me. This is just difficult for me to adjust to."

  "Why would it be? You're already dead."

  My head flicks up, and I meet Kieran's intent gaze. His blue eyes stare back at me, unblinking.

  For a split second, I want to laugh. He's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

  He's the only live one in a room with two vampires, so the former. He doesn't seem the type to stupidity; Will certainly wouldn't fall for him if he were mentally deficient.

  Then I catch sight of the way Will looks at him and how Kieran leans in to Will, comfortably, as if they were made to be together.

  Yes, that's it. Kieran simply doesn't think.

  He's so taken with the glamorous ideal of being a vampire that he can't imagine that anything about this situation would be difficult for me.

  "How much has Will told you about me?" I ask, and Will shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Specifically, what has he told you?"

  Kieran shrugs, and though he's in his mid- twenties, in this moment, he's remarkably boyish.

  "I dunno. Not much. Just that you met during the war."

  "Yes, Mister Delaney. We are that old. Better get used to such things messing with your head."

  "It doesn't mess with my head---"

  "Such youthful naivety," I murmur. "So dismissive."