Night's Honor
Page 30
She had listened intently, her eyes wide with fascination. “Thank you for the explanation.”
“De nada,” he said. When she lifted the bottle of wine and looked at him in inquiry, he gestured for her to help herself to a second glass.
Silence fell between them as she did so, and they sat for a few minutes, each wrapped in thought. He noted that her fear had subsided somewhat as they talked, and he watched the flames in the fireplace as he considered that.
Finally he stirred and sighed. “You present some interesting challenges, Tess Graham.”
She straightened in her chair. “I’m sorry. What can I do to make it better?”
“That is what I am trying to decide.” He set his empty glass aside. “I’ve already told you that you must make a proper blood offering freely and willingly by the end of the trial year, and that is not an arbitrary requirement. There are reasons why it is necessary.”
“I think I understand,” she said. “Without your bite, I can’t give as much blood as the others, or as often. Also, it would give me increased speed, strength and healing capacity, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, among other things. Regular blood offerings also establish a connection between us—it’s nothing like telepathy, mind you. It just increases my awareness of where you are in a crowd, which can be a handy safety measure.” He rubbed his forehead. “But I’m afraid your capacity to give a blood offering won’t be enough.”
Her expression turned wary again. “What do you mean?”
Meeting her gaze, he said, “You have to do more than confront your fear. You have to conquer it.”
“I—I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and frowned at her. “You walked into this room directly toward me, despite the fact that every instinct you had was telling you to run the other way. Didn’t you?”
She shifted uneasily under the weight of his stare. “Yes.”
He would have smiled, except that it saddened him too much. She was certainly brave enough. An edge of bitterness entered his tone. “I respect the courage it takes for you to do so, but that’s confronting your fear. It’s not conquering it. As you grew closer, I heard your heart rate accelerate, and I could taste the pheromones of your fear in the air.”
He paused to read her expression, but he could see no real comprehension on her face. She merely looked trapped and frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“No,” he said. “This is not about sorry. I cannot in good conscience set you loose in a room full of predators. Many of them have far fewer principles than I do, and a few have absolutely none at all. They would circle around you like sharks drawn to a pool of blood. Even if my reputation held off most of them, you would certainly not go unnoticed, and that defeats any purpose you may serve for me. It is not acceptable. Do you see?”
The comprehension he had been looking for dawned in her eyes, and it looked very much like dismay.
“I do now,” she whispered. She squared her shoulders. “I’ll change it. I just have to figure out how.”
Such tenacity. Her surface emotions might be all over the map, but underneath it all, she had a spine of steel.
Oh, he liked her. Far more, in fact, than was good for his peace of mind.
“Are you sure you want to?” he asked gently. “You may have chosen to come here, but I do not think you have yet chosen to stay.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw that he had scored a hit. He liked that she didn’t rush to answer him. Instead, her gaze turned troubled and she studied the remaining wine in her glass for a few moments.
Then she looked up and leaned forward, her angular expression firming into determination. “Yes, I want to.”
“Very good,” he said. He smiled, and even though she was still uneasy in his presence, she returned it. Then he turned brisk. “Starting tomorrow evening, we will add two more things to your training schedule.”
“You want me to do more?”
Her dismay had returned, but he ignored it. “You will begin daily meditations and focus on a series of biofeedback exercises. There are techniques you can learn that will help you to control your body’s reaction to stress, especially your heart rate. That should help to dampen the fear pheromones.”
Her gaze sparked with interest. “I would love to learn that. What’s the other thing?”
He adjusted one shirtsleeve. “I will take over your etiquette lessons. Prolonged exposure should help you master your aversion to Vampyres, at least enough so that you can mask your true feelings.”
He did not have to look at her to gauge her reaction. He heard it in the loud thump of her heart. Still, she replied without a second’s hesitation, “That makes sense. Thank you for taking the time to work with me.”
Buried underneath all her tension and nerves was the heart of a lion. He smiled and heard himself asking, “Do you dance?”
“Probably not in the way that you mean,” she replied in a dry voice. “I’ve never taken formal dance lessons. The only kind of dancing I’ve ever done is in a nightclub.”
Bah. She meant modern dancing, which was little more than hopping around and waving one’s arms to disco music. Watching a crowd of people on a nightclub dance floor was like watching a school of fish smacking their fins in shallow water. It was all flapping and splashing, and entirely devoid of dignity.
He glanced at her, amused. “You are correct. That is not what I meant. I will teach you to waltz. Perhaps also a minuet. Those should cover the times when you might attend a function and be asked to partner someone.”
“How often would something like that happen?”
He shrugged. “Not often, but it is a situation that has arisen before. Someone might be alone and require a dancing partner.”
The spark in her eyes faded, to be replaced with a clear look of dread. “I suppose I should be prepared.”
“Tess, you are good for my soul,” he said. He gave her a completely serious look. “If I ever feel that I am suffering from an overabundance of pride, I shall look for you immediately so you can trample all over it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, dismayed. Then she quickly tried to change course. “Or maybe I mean, you’re welcome?”
“De nada,” he said. When she lifted the bottle of wine and looked at him in inquiry, he gestured for her to help herself to a second glass.
Silence fell between them as she did so, and they sat for a few minutes, each wrapped in thought. He noted that her fear had subsided somewhat as they talked, and he watched the flames in the fireplace as he considered that.
Finally he stirred and sighed. “You present some interesting challenges, Tess Graham.”
She straightened in her chair. “I’m sorry. What can I do to make it better?”
“That is what I am trying to decide.” He set his empty glass aside. “I’ve already told you that you must make a proper blood offering freely and willingly by the end of the trial year, and that is not an arbitrary requirement. There are reasons why it is necessary.”
“I think I understand,” she said. “Without your bite, I can’t give as much blood as the others, or as often. Also, it would give me increased speed, strength and healing capacity, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, among other things. Regular blood offerings also establish a connection between us—it’s nothing like telepathy, mind you. It just increases my awareness of where you are in a crowd, which can be a handy safety measure.” He rubbed his forehead. “But I’m afraid your capacity to give a blood offering won’t be enough.”
Her expression turned wary again. “What do you mean?”
Meeting her gaze, he said, “You have to do more than confront your fear. You have to conquer it.”
“I—I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and frowned at her. “You walked into this room directly toward me, despite the fact that every instinct you had was telling you to run the other way. Didn’t you?”
She shifted uneasily under the weight of his stare. “Yes.”
He would have smiled, except that it saddened him too much. She was certainly brave enough. An edge of bitterness entered his tone. “I respect the courage it takes for you to do so, but that’s confronting your fear. It’s not conquering it. As you grew closer, I heard your heart rate accelerate, and I could taste the pheromones of your fear in the air.”
He paused to read her expression, but he could see no real comprehension on her face. She merely looked trapped and frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“No,” he said. “This is not about sorry. I cannot in good conscience set you loose in a room full of predators. Many of them have far fewer principles than I do, and a few have absolutely none at all. They would circle around you like sharks drawn to a pool of blood. Even if my reputation held off most of them, you would certainly not go unnoticed, and that defeats any purpose you may serve for me. It is not acceptable. Do you see?”
The comprehension he had been looking for dawned in her eyes, and it looked very much like dismay.
“I do now,” she whispered. She squared her shoulders. “I’ll change it. I just have to figure out how.”
Such tenacity. Her surface emotions might be all over the map, but underneath it all, she had a spine of steel.
Oh, he liked her. Far more, in fact, than was good for his peace of mind.
“Are you sure you want to?” he asked gently. “You may have chosen to come here, but I do not think you have yet chosen to stay.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw that he had scored a hit. He liked that she didn’t rush to answer him. Instead, her gaze turned troubled and she studied the remaining wine in her glass for a few moments.
Then she looked up and leaned forward, her angular expression firming into determination. “Yes, I want to.”
“Very good,” he said. He smiled, and even though she was still uneasy in his presence, she returned it. Then he turned brisk. “Starting tomorrow evening, we will add two more things to your training schedule.”
“You want me to do more?”
Her dismay had returned, but he ignored it. “You will begin daily meditations and focus on a series of biofeedback exercises. There are techniques you can learn that will help you to control your body’s reaction to stress, especially your heart rate. That should help to dampen the fear pheromones.”
Her gaze sparked with interest. “I would love to learn that. What’s the other thing?”
He adjusted one shirtsleeve. “I will take over your etiquette lessons. Prolonged exposure should help you master your aversion to Vampyres, at least enough so that you can mask your true feelings.”
He did not have to look at her to gauge her reaction. He heard it in the loud thump of her heart. Still, she replied without a second’s hesitation, “That makes sense. Thank you for taking the time to work with me.”
Buried underneath all her tension and nerves was the heart of a lion. He smiled and heard himself asking, “Do you dance?”
“Probably not in the way that you mean,” she replied in a dry voice. “I’ve never taken formal dance lessons. The only kind of dancing I’ve ever done is in a nightclub.”
Bah. She meant modern dancing, which was little more than hopping around and waving one’s arms to disco music. Watching a crowd of people on a nightclub dance floor was like watching a school of fish smacking their fins in shallow water. It was all flapping and splashing, and entirely devoid of dignity.
He glanced at her, amused. “You are correct. That is not what I meant. I will teach you to waltz. Perhaps also a minuet. Those should cover the times when you might attend a function and be asked to partner someone.”
“How often would something like that happen?”
He shrugged. “Not often, but it is a situation that has arisen before. Someone might be alone and require a dancing partner.”
The spark in her eyes faded, to be replaced with a clear look of dread. “I suppose I should be prepared.”
“Tess, you are good for my soul,” he said. He gave her a completely serious look. “If I ever feel that I am suffering from an overabundance of pride, I shall look for you immediately so you can trample all over it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, dismayed. Then she quickly tried to change course. “Or maybe I mean, you’re welcome?”
