Kim Harrison - Hotter Than Hell

Simon had removed her collection of vampire books from the end table in the main room and stored them on the bookshelf with other novels. She wasn’t sure why they bothered him but they did. Again, she didn’t care. Lately she hadn’t had any time for reading, in any case. Why escape into fiction when reality was so wonderful?

He kissed her neck frequently, but he didn’t bite. Much.

On Friday night, the club where Simon played reopened and he insisted on taking her with him. He didn’t have to insist very hard; she was anxious to go. She’d heard him play on his portable piano, and they’d listened to numerous recordings, but she wanted to see him on stage with a band, lost in the music she knew he loved.

And he did love it. At the small but crowded nightclub Claire sat at a small table near the raised stage. She sipped wine and watched as Simon and the other three musicians made beautiful, fast, and furious music. They all loved what they did, not just playing their instruments but creating this music. Simon’s face lit up when he performed. Claire had always known he had remarkable hands, but to see them fly over the piano keys and make such music, that was magic. It was a different kind of magic than that which her grandmother had told her about, but still, it was magic. Until tonight she had only seen Simon look this happy in bed, and yes, she was a little jealous.

But more than that, she was happy for him. Everyone should have something or someone in their life that they loved so much.

When the evening was over, at an hour much later than Claire had ever been out even on a Friday night, they walked from the club heading toward the apartment. It was a trip of just a few blocks, which was one of the reasons Simon had chosen her apartment building. The evening was a bit cool, but with Simon beside her she didn’t feel too chilly. He was very warm, very much alive, and she smiled contentedly as she remembered that she’d once believed he might be a vampire.

She was still convinced that such creatures were real. She knew in her heart that there was more to the world than most people ever saw. But Simon, Simon was just a man. The perfect man, perhaps, but still…a man. He was warm-blooded, his heart beat well, he didn’t mind going out in the late afternoon sun.

…and he ate her garlic bread.

They held hands very easily, as they walked toward home. Claire couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt so close to a person, when she’d ever felt so much a part of someone’s life. This relationship which had begun so very oddly was important, and if she had her way it would only become more important in days and weeks and years to come. Only one small detail kept her from perfection.

“There’s something I should tell you,” she said as they reached the front entrance to the building. She sensed there were possibilities with Simon, possibilities that went beyond sex and shared laughter. Such a connection couldn’t be built on a lie, no matter how small.

And this lie wasn’t particularly small, to be honest.

As they walked up the stairs, she gathered the strength to begin. “Do you remember when you accused me of stalking you?” she asked.

“Four days ago?” he responded lightly. “Yes, my memory works well enough to remember that.”

“Well, you weren’t entirely off the mark.”

They continued to climb. “You wanted my body,” he teased.

“No! Well, yes I suppose I did, but that’s not why I was following you.”

A small line appeared between his eyes, a hint of a frown. “What, then?”

Claire licked her lips as they entered the third floor hallway, where a few days ago she had attempted to gather proof that Simon was not what he appeared to be. “I thought you might be a vampire.”

She expected an outburst of laughter, and was prepared to order him to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake the neighbors. He continued to walk steadily, and there was no laughter. He didn’t so much as smile. “Why would you think such a thing?”

It seemed like a long way to the section of the third floor where their apartments were located. Maybe this conversation would be best finished in her apartment or his, since he wasn’t taking the news as well as she’d expected he would. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe she should’ve kept the truth to herself for a while longer.

It was a little too late for that particular revelation.

“Why?” he prompted.

Claire ticked off her reasons. “I never saw you during the daytime, for one thing, and I never saw you bring in food, and you listen to that old music…which I understand now, really I do, but I didn’t before I knew you…and I could swear that when you looked at me you were looking right through me, looking into my soul in a way that was not at all human. And, ok, I Googled you and you’ve moved a lot in the past few years. A man who doesn’t want his immortality to be discovered might…” she hesitated after her breathless rush of words, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded “…move frequently,” she finished in a lowered voice.

Finally they reached her apartment, and she grabbed her keys from her purse. Simon said nothing as she fumbled with unlocking the door, and she was terrified that she’d ruined the best relationship she’d ever had simply by telling the truth.

“What about now?” he asked as they stepped into her apartment. “Do you still think I’m a vampire?”

“No!” she insisted. Here, alone, the door closed behind them, she could take Simon’s face in her hands to look him in the eye. Yes, there was power in those eyes but it was perfectly ordinary power, right? Maybe what she saw, what touched her, was a power only she could see.

“Because I didn’t gag on garlic bread or explode in the sun?”

“Because I love you!” she insisted.

Once again Simon went very quiet, and Claire cursed herself. It was too soon for those words that sent some men running. Simon was a man, just a man, and he would run like hell from those words delivered too soon. But it was too late to take them back, and in truth she didn’t want to take them back. “I love you,” she said again. “It happened too fast and it took me by surprise but that’s the truth. I don’t want any kind of lie between us and that’s why I wanted to tell you about my ridiculous notions.”

He seemed to relax a little. “Did you tell anyone about your theory?”

“No. Who would I tell? My girlfriends would never believe me. Co-workers? I’m pretty sure that would get me fired, or sent to counseling at the very least. There’s really no one else to tell.” Except Granny Eileen, and she’d been gone five years.

“That’s good.” More relaxed than he had been as they’d entered the apartment, Simon began to undress her. As always he took his time, caressing skin as it was revealed, kissing her mouth and her throat, raking his talented hands across her body. He played her as well as he played his piano, and they did make music.

Simon removed his clothes, with her help, as they walked into the bedroom. Once there, he did not rush to the bed as he sometimes did, but held her so that she was facing the mirror while he stood behind her. They were both naked, both entirely bare, but for the small gold cross that caught a glimmer of light from the other room. Simon’s hands covered her breasts. His fingers rocked back and forth, very gently, and she found herself leaning into him, reveling in the sensation of her skin against his. There had been a time when Claire had been embarrassed to look at herself this way, but Simon thought she was beautiful and he’d said so so many times she was beginning to believe him. He bent his head and kissed her shoulder.

“Do you really love me?” he whispered.