The Becoming

It dawns on me that there's nothing personal in Avery's bedroom either. I guess after hundreds of years, there's nothing personal left.

Is that what I have to look forward to?

I shake off the maudlin flood threatening to drown me and keep looking. At each end of the long hall that separates the bedrooms, there's a door. The one on the left leads to a back stairway. I follow it down to the kitchen. Then return to try the other one. It leads up. Evidently there's an attic.

The door at the top of these stairs is locked. I'm filled with apprehension. I press my ear to the door, but there's no sound. I knock and call out, “David?"

Nothing.

I put my shoulder against the door and shove. There's a splintering of wood and the door gives way. As soon as I step inside, I'm greeted with an unfamiliar odor—one of must and decay. Even not having to draw breath keeps me from gagging. It's a reflex. The atmosphere in the room is suffocating.

Cautiously, I look around, mouth open, trying to gauge the source of the smell. It seems to come from a wall of chests, stacked near the top of the gables. As I approach, the smell gets stronger. Each chest looks different, but the size is pretty much the same.

A little bigger than an old fashioned steamer trunk. There are eight or nine, some made of wood with metal hinges rusted with age, some made of more modern materials with brass or plastic hinges.

The most modern looking of all is also the one nearest my grasp. It's a plain, wooden affair with shiny hinges. There's a picture painted on the top, a portrait of a girl with golden hair standing in a window. She looks about twenty and her smile is full of joy and youth. She has on an old fashioned jumper and her hair falls in luxuriant curls to her shoulders. The portrait is so lifelike, it could be a photograph instead of a painting.

Something compels me to open this trunk, to see what lies beneath such a charming picture. My hand shakes as I release the catch.

Before I see it, I know what it is . It's more than the odor, it's the feel of death. There are photographs inside, daguerreotypes brown with age, a lock of hair, a scrap of clothing.

And human remains.

A desiccated corpse that must have been lying here for years. Suddenly, I know why Avery said what he did the other night.

In the union between vampire and mortal, it's the vampire that suffers.

He was speaking from personal experience. I've found Avery's heart. Here in this attic, three hundred years of mortal lovers lost while the vampire continues unchanged and untouched by anything save this realization.

But there's another realization that hits me, too.

Like a knife in the chest.

David is not here.

Lawson either misunderstood or lied about his kidnapper being a vamp doctor.

And I've invaded Avery's privacy in a way I know he'll never forgive.

I don't know what to do. I retreat from the attic mausoleum, softly closing the ruined door behind me. Avery will know at a glance that someone has been here. The idea that he lives with the mortal remains of those he's loved should repulse me. Instead, I'm filled with sadness and foreboding. Sadness because he clings to all that's left of love lost, and foreboding because I'm afraid it reflects something of my own future. I know now it's not a casket filled with earth from the mother country a vampire carries with him from one place to the other.

Seeking refuge in the guestroom, I stretch out on the bed to think. Avery is not due home for hours. I don't think I can wait that long. After a few moments, I find the paper he's given me with his hospital number and dial.

His receptionist answers, and when I tell her my name, I hear the smile in her voice.

"He's on his way home, A

I put the receiver down softly. And he won't be the same man tomorrow, either.

Chapter Thirty

I'm downstairs in the living room when I hear Avery's car pull up. He drives around to the back, the same way I did, so I meet him at the kitchen door.

He smiles when he sees me, but the smile quickly fades. “What's wrong? Things didn't go well with Williams?"

Williams. I'd forgotten about him. So much happened after.

It's easier to let him pick the story out of my brain than to try to recount it. I “tell” him everything, right up until the time Lawson's story about a vamp doctor kidnapping David sends my world into a tailspin.

He senses there's more. What aren't you telling me?

I take him by the hand and lead him into the living room. I know I need to sit down for the rest of it. I imagine he will, too, after I've told him what I've done.

We take seats on the couch. I purposely leave distance between us. “I thought you were the one."

Confusion draws his brows together, pulls at the corners of his mouth. “The one?"

It takes him only a minute to understand. Then a dark, implacable expression settles on his face. “You thought I kidnapped David?

Why on earth would you think that?"

"Lawson. He told me a vamp doctor had David. That he was taken to punish a newbie—for what, he didn't know. But suddenly all I could think of was you and I. You're a doctor, I've just become a vampire. It all fit. I just couldn't figure out why you'd want to do it."

Avery is very quiet. His thoughts shut off from me. But it takes no effort to interpret the emotions playing across his face. There's disbelief and the begi

"How could you think I'd do something like that to you?"

I hold up a hand. Avery, there's more.

He grows very still, his eyes boring into mine as I let him learn the rest. I hope by doing it this way, he'll feel the shame and regret as well as hear the words.

But there's no way I can predict the depth of his rage as he learns how I violated his most i

And I'm left alone and afraid.

Chapter Thirty-One

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.