Jeanne Stein - The Becoming

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, Anna. He said he had a guest waiting for him. I must tell you, you've certainly put a spring in his step. He's not the same man he was a week ago."

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

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 beginning of anger.

"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 inner sanctum. A wave of furious energy propels me against the arm of the couch as he leaps to his feet. He moves so fast, it's like watching a wisp of smoke blown out of the room by a turbulent gust of air. I hear thunderous footsteps on the back stairs and the grinding of broken wood as he wrenches open of the attic door. Then there's silence, profound and terrible.

And I'm left alone and afraid.

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.