Woman King Page 22

  “Let’s swim,” I said, walking toward the water.

  William blocked my path. “Let me help you out of your dress,” he said, reaching around to unzip the back of my black sheath, then letting it fall to the floor.

  Very suddenly I was wearing nothing but black lace boy shorts, a matching bra and heels. William came around and ran a finger under one bra strap pulling it down around my arm.

  “There you go, walking away again, but I want to finish our discussion. I saw the way he was looking at you, Olivia,” he purred, and then he slipped his finger under the other strap and pulled it down, exposing my breast. Slowly, he ran his thumb across my nipple and then leaned in closer. “There is no man alive who wouldn’t want you, the way you were dressed tonight.”

  I grabbed his hand where it rested on my breast and brought his thumb to my lips. “You fool,” I said, as I slipped his finger into my mouth and gently bit it. “I’m not interested in any man alive. I’m in love with you. Only you. But if you want me to stay, you’re going to have to accept me for who I am… my work… my ideas, all of it…or this night will be nothing but a waste of time.”

  William brought me into his arms and held me. We stood there for some time, until finally he lifted his head and began to speak.

  “It’s been more than a decade since I’ve had a mate,” he said. “In fact, for almost all my nearly two hundred years I have lived my life alone. Then one day, you walked into that tunnel, throwing all my plans to the wind.”

  I smiled, squeezing his hand.

  “What I’m trying to say is, yes. I agree,” he said. “I will change. I will learn to be more flexible.”

  I kissed him then, thinking it was the most economical way to express my thoughts. It was hopelessly impractical to bind myself to a vampire, but I was in love for the first time in my life, and had no wish to sacrifice my happiness for practical purposes. I had been that person who jettisoned her emotions in exchange for a well-ordered life, and it had nearly killed me. I was ready for a change, damn the complications. I wanted a lover who understood me, maybe better than I understood myself. So I kissed him again, and threw my fate into the hands of the supernatural, just as my ancestors had done.

  We undressed and climbed into the pool, bringing our bodies together. I kissed his face, his eyelids. He pressed his lips into the small of my neck and nibbled on my earlobe. We floated in the warm pool for some time before he spoke.

  “Would you have slept with that reporter?”

  I shifted in his arms so I could look at him more directly. “No,” I said. “In fact, I’d been dreading the date since the moment I’d agreed to it. If you hadn’t kidnapped me, I’m certain the evening would have ended badly.”

  “I didn’t really kidnap you,” William said smiling. “I knew you’d come with me.”

  “How can you be so sure of yourself?”

  “I’m not sure of myself, far from it,” William said. “But, I’m sure about us. I know we’re meant to be together.”

  “I don’t know if I would have come for you,” I admitted. “I was convinced you’d never be comfortable with my work with the Council.”

  William nodded, pulling me closer. “Darlin, I’m certain you and I are destined to get under each other’s skin. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be together.”

  Before I could reply, William kissed me again. Our kisses quickly turned heated, as we pressed our bodies together in the warm, salt water. Finally, he picked me up and sat me on the edge of the pool, parted my legs and asked me to lie back, leaving me exposed to him. He started at my ankle, placing feathery kisses along my leg. Eventually he reached my center, kissing me deeply at my core. Then he moved his lips back to the tender skin on the inside of my thigh, where without warning, he bit me. At the same moment his teeth pierced my skin, he used his fingers to the same effect. This is what being hit with a Taser must feel like, I thought, as my body bucked and rocked against his mouth. I screamed at the shock of the pain and the pleasure.

  Hard to believe, but I had forgotten for a moment that I was making love with a vampire. Your imagination only goes so far when it comes to day dreams of moments like these. Imagining being bit is nothing like the real thing. It’s shocking, but perhaps not as scary as one might think. This wasn’t an attack, at least not the lethal kind. He was a gentle lover and true to his word that night at his house, seemed to take only a sip before he raised his head to gauge my reaction. I sat up and smiled, beckoning him to join me. William climbed out of the pool, standing above me, his long red hair matted against his shoulders, glistening from the water. He was beautiful and menacing to behold, pale and thin, his body marked with tattoos and ancient scars he must have received on the battlefield before he died. He sat down next to me.

  “Dar-lin,” he said, his twang more pronounced tonight. “Are you ready? ‘Cause this is the point of no return.”

  “Which point?” I asked playfully. “The trespassing on state property, or the part where you make love to me?”

  “Both,” he said, smiling as he slipped inside me, “Both.”

  Our first time together was slow and languorous.

  “This is why you belong in a castle,” he whispered. “Good things happen to you.”

  The second time, after he had fed me strawberries and Champagne, was different, rougher. William approached me from behind, and ran his hands down my back and bent me over at the waist as a ballet dancer would with his partner. I could feel his sharp nails, the ones he used to play guitar, as he ran them along my spine to the top of my neck. Then he ran his sharpened teeth along the same path, reaching the top of my neck and grazing my skin at my nape, a place that would be covered by my hair in the morning. The rest of his body followed as he penetrated me. My senses were overloaded, overcome by his sensual nature and my own lust and desire pouring through my body. Sex had never been this good, or this intense, before and I wondered for a moment if it was because I allowed myself to feel so greatly now, or because I was with someone who made me feel so much.

  When we were finished, I slumped over onto the pool floor. “My God,” I said, deciding to leave it at just that. I looked over at William and knew he was thinking the same thing. We had truly given ourselves to each other tonight. Our emotions had been as exposed as our bodies, but neither of us had any regrets. I could feel it.

  We dressed and walked hand in hand back to the car. My body began to ache as soon as I slid into the seat. I was sore in places I knew many women would never be. I smiled, amazed at what I had done with William and how badly I wanted to do it again.

  “You tasted my blood,” I said, as he pulled his car back onto Highway 1.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t,” he said, his voice drifting off a bit. “In the end, I had to take a small taste. Did I hurt you?”

  I yawned, overcome with fatigue before I said, “I’m fine,” I said. “It was magnificent, but I have to tell you I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

  “Go to sleep then,” he said. “I’ll wake you when we’re home.”

  As I drifted off, I wondered which home he meant.

  It was disorienting to wake up in bed and feel another body next to mine. It wasn’t something I’d done very often, and at first my mind could not reconcile the facts. A moment of panic set in as I tried to retrace my steps from the night before. A horrible image of JP jumped into view for a moment. Then, slowly, my body began to register the sensation of the cool mass beside me. A tumble of memories came flooding in, causing me to blush, and I realized that it was William next to me.

  What confused me at first, too, was the bed, which had not existed in his house when I’d first visited. Made of a dark wood, the queen-sized frame sat in the middle of his bedroom against one of the walls. I knew instantly that he had made the bed for us. I was touched at his thoughtfulness, but also chagrined at his expectation of success.

  I sat up to get a better sense of things. As I placed my hands down on the s
heets to push up, I became aware of something else that was new and unexpected: the trio of copper bands with the sapphires I had admired at the jewelry gallery was sitting on my ring finger. I examined my hand, not sure what to do next. An image from a vintage horror movie popped into my head: the scene where the innocent, impoverished girl is lured from the village to a fate worse than death…to be the bride of a vampire.

  But I knew that wasn’t my story. I had walked into the castle as a willing participant. I was curious to know what significance the rings had for William. I looked over at the body next to mine. My suitor seemed to be asleep, or at least in a deep trance. Just as they do in fairy tales, I kissed my sleeping prince, gently biting his lower lip. I pulled the blanket away, running my tongue across his chest, savoring the cool, smooth skin. I found his nipple and bit it to see if I could wake the dead.

  Instantly, I felt his senses alight, and once again I experienced the merging of our desire. I was hungry and impatient, my teeth suddenly set in a clench. My awareness was instantaneous to his, and quickly I was rolled underneath him as he slid into me. I would have howled at the sun had William not kissed me. My body was inexplicably ravenous and I bit down on William’s lip, impatient for something I could not name. Despite my provocation, he did not drink from me.

  After we’d finished making love, he wordlessly left our bed, put on a robe and walked out of the room. When he returned, he was carrying a tray with a glass of juice and whole-grain toast.

  “Wow, a bed and food,” I said. “You were certainly confident your campaign to kidnap me would be successful.”

  William looked mildly rebuked. “I was hoping,” he said. “I figured I could always throw the food away.”

  “Yes, but the bed, that took some work,” I said, sitting up to sip the juice. “What would you have done with the bed, if I’d refused?”

  “I would have worked to get you in it, of course,” he said, coming to sit next to me. “Eventually I would have worn you down.”

  I held up my hand and wiggled my finger with the ring. “You have a good memory,” I said. “Usually, though, people ask before becoming engaged.”

  William took my hand, and stared at the rings. “My mother had a set very similar to these. When I saw you admiring the trio at the gallery, I knew I had to buy them for you.”

  “Are we married?” I asked, unsure if vampire courting rituals skipped some of the crucial steps humans found necessary. He shook his head as he squeezed my hand.

  “That would be a little fast, darlin, even for a vampire. Think of it more as a set of commitment rings,” he said. “A sign that we’re together.”

  “Are we bound to each other?”

  “No, I didn’t drink enough of your blood, and you have not drunk from me, but after last night I would say that we are unquestionably committed.”

  I was more than fine with that, but I wondered how people would react when I appeared with what looked to be a set of wedding bands on my finger, with nary a mention of a man in my life.

  “These are beautiful, but I think we need to ease into my wearing them in public; at least until the campaign is finished. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, especially from JP. Please don’t mistake me; I do want to wear them. But I can’t show up overnight with three rings on my finger.”

  I was being scrutinized, but eventually the former Resistance fighter saw the elegance of my strategy.

  “You’re right,” he said. “When you get home, take off two of the rings and leave the single plain copper band. That doesn’t look like it has any significance and people won’t notice.” It was good advice from someone who’d managed to blend in for decades.

  I would have been happy to sit in bed and chat all day about rings and commitment, but all of the discussion of JP had given me an uneasy feeling. I scanned the room for my purse, realizing that I hadn’t heard my phone ring. I also had no idea what time it was. I assumed it was late, given what time we’d left Hearst Castle and because the sunshades had been drawn on the skylights in the bedroom.

  “Where is my purse?” I asked. “I need my phone.”

  William walked over to one of the leather chairs and retrieved my purse. I dove in immediately looking for my iPhone. The ringer was off. “Did you turn off the ringer?”

  “We didn’t get home until dawn, I thought it better to let you sleep.”

  “Very sweet of you, but campaign managers have to hear their phone ring.”

  I would have said more, but my eyes fell upon the clock, which read 11 am, and the number 50 that appeared next to the telephone icon on my screen. “Shit, someone has been trying to get in touch with me.” I looked at the texting icon, where the numeral 30 sat, unblinking. My email was similar; there were 250 outstanding messages waiting in my inbox, which was more than twice what I usually had for this time of the morning.

  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that something had gone wrong with the campaign. My heart was in my throat as I opened my email. I quickly began scanning the subject lines to see what I had in store. The first headline I saw sent my pulse racing.

  “Candidate’s Chief Fundraiser Rails Against ‘Fat, Lazy Americans’ In Secret Video Recording By Internet Journalist.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I said, scanning the rest of the story. JP, it seemed, had managed to get lucky last night after all.

  ****

  CHAPTER 27

  There is an old French saying one of my teachers would use to scold us for misbehaving when she left the room. Quand le chat n’est pas là, les souris dansent. When the cat’s away the mice will dance. In other words, leave the children alone, and they will get into mischief. The same holds true for campaigns. There is no rest until the end, no moment when you can let your guard down. Every word must be spoken with intent, and every action must be carefully vetted to weigh its potential impact. One step in the wrong direction can be the end. To be a good candidate requires discipline. As with all things in life, without discipline, you get chaos.

  I let out a few more expletives as I scanned the emails.

  “Darlin, you sound like some of the men I’ve heard in the trenches.”

  “I assure you I can do worse,” I said. “Listen, something happened last night after we left. I need to get in touch with Gabriel. I will probably need to get out of here quickly and go back to my house. I need my laptop and my phone charger.” I dreaded dialing his number. I knew he would be furious at me for being out of touch. C’est la vie, I thought. I can’t take it back; I can only try to fix the mess.

  “Olivia,” Gabriel said, his French accent weighing down the first vowel of my name. “Call Levi, he will explain everything. There is a video; that damn reporter Richard invited took it. After you speak with Levi, call me back.”

  I pressed the number on my speed-dial for Levi. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Where have you been?” was his only greeting. “I have been trying to reach you for hours. The reporter, you know the one Richard invited, he videotaped us…Richard and me …I don’t know what happened. Last night I thought perhaps that he’d had too much to drink. He said…some unfortunate things.”

  “I know about the video,” I said, scanning my email. “Let me take a look and I will call you back in five minutes.”

  William, who had walked out of the room, returned with what looked like a brand new MacBook. We sat at his desk, side by side, and called up YouTube to view the video. Even before watching the video, my heart sank. The clip had already been viewed 10,000 times. The video itself was shaky at best; JP had clearly filmed it with his phone at a distance so the two men would not see him.

  They were standing on the deck at Richard’s house, near the bar, illuminated by outside lights mounted to the side of the house. Levi and Richard clearly were already in the middle of a conversation. Richard looked agitated. He was holding a glass of wine in his hand, but didn’t appear to be drunk.

  “Come on, Levi. Do you honestly believe that woman has a c
hance? She thinks the Bible should be the basis for all of our laws, for the Supreme Court for Christ’s sake. She is crazy and so are her few meager supporters. They’re pathetic, the lot of them. Those fat, lazy high-school dropouts…Why on earth should they forever have jobs building houses, or making cheap American cars no one wants to buy? There is no room for them in this new economy. What person in their right mind would support someone who wants to ‘ask for a sign from God’ to fix immigration? This is Silicon Valley, not the Beverly Hillbillies. People are smart enough to know better.”

  I watched the video five times in succession, trying to memorize all of the words and gestures. The one thing that stood out immediately was that Levi never said a word. He never agreed with Richard. On the flip side, he didn’t try to stop him either. At the end, when Richard had finished his tirade, Levi said, “OK, Richard. Let’s go inside now. Let’s let the voters make up their minds. I think they can be trusted to make good choices.”

  Levi’s faith in voters was something I could use. It was a small thing, but it provided the foundation necessary to build a plan for responding. The bitter irony of the moment settled upon me as I prepared to conference in Gabriel and Levi. I had assumed Stoner Halbert would try to do something directed at me personally. Now, it appeared that either Halbert’s demon had come in contact with Richard and egged on his outburst, or we’d been walking around with a ticking time bomb inside the campaign for weeks.

  I’d warned Levi not to jinx us.

  I pulled out my phone, which was beeping frantically, to see what the noise was about and ran smack into a set of Twitter feeds from Lacy Smith’s campaign.

  Barnes must quit campaign.

  Intellectual elite have no place in government

  It’s of the people, by the people.