Jeanne Stein - The Becoming

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.

Williams's teeth are at my neck. He's snarling and snapping at me, coming closer and pulling away as if wanting to prolong my fear.

Smiling as he enjoys the taste of it.

The smile is what pulls me back. It releases the hold he has on my mind. I can't, I won't, let him kill me. In a last desperate effort to save myself, I gather strength to push against him. But his power is inexorable and relentless. He is an old soul. I understand in a flash that it is centuries of consuming the most essential of all life force—living blood—that gives him this capability. It is what he will use, finally, to kill me.

Unless.

I have Avery's blood coursing through my veins, don't I?

He is a most powerful vampire, older even than Williams. He is the only creature I have fed from. Can I channel his energy for my own use?

I let my body relax for a moment, clear all thoughts out of my head.

Williams senses a change, pulls back a little as if to watch. His eyes narrow, his face feral and dangerous. Then he lunges again, and my instinct tells me he's tired of this game. He's ready for the kill.

But I'm ready, too. My blood is on fire now, my thoughts centered. I parry his thrust, get an arm between his face and my neck and push.

He flies off me and crashes into the coffee table. The splintering of wood and breaking of glass is lost in the howl of rage that escapes his lips. He pulls himself upright, all vestiges of humanity gone. I'm facing the animal now, too, and for a split second, terror is all I have.

But I recover quickly. I remember how it was with Lawson, how the vampire can swallow up the human, and I let it happen. I face Williams if not as an equal, then as the more desperate. I have nothing to lose, no inhibition about attacking a mortal to hinder me the way it did with Lawson. This will be a fight to the death. I use that realization to propel me forward.

When our bodies hit, it's with the force of a head-on collision between two semis. I dig my heels in and push him backward, for the first time cognizant of the fact that I might be stronger. He fights against it, but I don't let up. I want him on the ground, beneath me, subject to the same fear I felt moments before. I let him read that in my mind, see the flash of understanding bloom in his eyes. He knows I can do it. He knows I've fed from Avery.