John

"David warned me this would happen," I begin. "That one day I'd meet someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Carlos echoes, his brown eyes still wide with thinly concealed alarm. He might claim not to care what I am, but I can smell his fear.

Good, I think. It will make this easier.

"Just as each human's chemistry is different, so is each vampire's. The same scent can be both adored and reviled. Some flowers, for example, might smell like sweet perfume to one person and like urine to another. Everyone's genetic makeup is different, so each person's olfactory experience is unique. We all live in a distinct, individual world of smells."

"Okay. Um... thanks for the weird science lesson, I guess. What does it have to do with me, again?"

"Odors take a direct route to the brain — to the limbic system. Emotion and memory. You probably have some favorite scents. Some smells that always trigger a positive reaction, right?"

"Sure." Carlos shrugs, still eying me uneasily. "Chocolate and peppermint. Stuff like that."

I nod. "Well, vampires have favorite smells, too. Or rather, smells that trigger certain reactions in us. Human smells."

"As in... food?"

"Sometimes."

"So you... you drink blood, then?"

"No. Like I said, I'm not fully turned. Just infected. I eat human food, and while I have some slightly enhanced abilities, I'm still more or less human. However, that could change."

Carlos swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "How?"

"You know what the strongest driving force in nature is?" I ask. "Stronger than the need to eat; stronger than self-preservation, even?"

He shakes his head. "What?"

"Sex. The urge to reproduce. It's what drives a male spider to approach a female many times his size, who will gladly eat him if she gets the chance."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," Carlos says, with an adorable squeak in his voice that makes me want to eat him right now.

"Certain humans have a scent that appeals to certain vampires. We — they — call them 'edibles.' Whatever chemistry their blood contains sustains our own virus-altered cells, like an engine that only runs on a particular fuel. That's David's theory, anyway."

"So, are you saying I'm one of these... edibles?" Carlos makes a face that tells me he's understandably not thrilled with the idea.

"Nope. You're something else. Edibles are rare in terms of the total human population, but common compared to... catalysts."

"Is there more science coming?" Carlos winces and lifts his cast in a gesture of self-defense, as if an onslaught of terminology could be worse than broken bones.

I laugh, taken off guard by his easy charm, and feel the dangerous thing within me stir again at the same time.

"I'll try to keep it simple," I say. "A catalyst is like a perfect match; like a lock and key. They're incredibly rare — one in ten million, probably. For a vampire, a catalyst can unlock their greatest potential, the peak of their power. For someone like me..."

I sigh. There's no sense beating around the bush anymore.

"Carlos, you're like a drug to me. I want you. Bad. But if I get too much, it could trigger, well... a catalyst. It might break the hold David put on my infection and make me turn."

"I'm guessing this scenario doesn't end well," Carlos whispers.

"Not particularly. I'd have to bite you — really bite you, not like that nip in the shower — to trigger it, and in that case, I'd probably infect you, too. Then... Well, then it would be up to the genetic dice to decide if either or both of us turn out as sane, transmuted creatures, or as mindless killing machines."

Carlos blinks rapidly several times and takes a breath. "Right. So, how do we avoid that, again?"

"We put an end to this." I gesture between us. "The less close contact we have, the less chance that we'll give in to..." I clear my throat. "The less chance of an accident. To put it bluntly, there is no 'us.'"

To my surprise, rather than relief at the prospect of maintaining a safe distance from something that can only end in disaster, a look of deep hurt crosses Carlos' face like the shadow of a dark cloud.

"Right," he says. "That's, um... definitely for the best, then. We need to focus on Kyle, anyway. And on finding my aunt. Actually, to that end... I have an idea."

~ ★ ~

"Absolutely not," I say, after Carlos explains his crackpot idea to me. "I'm not standing by and letting you risk your life and your sanity on some long-shot crap-shoot chance of contacting Kyle in the afterlife."

Two days have passed since our last conversation, and in that time I've done my best to keep my distance, and Carlos has done the same. This house is still the safest place for him, despite any threat he might face from me, and I can't deny it's nice to come home to a hot meal and a pair of happy, well-cared-for dogs.

"It's just a seance," Carlos huffs, still refusing to meet my eyes.

"It sounds like an invitation to get possessed, and from what you've told me, that's at the top of your list of things not to do."

Carlos looks away and sighs. "At least I'd be doing something useful."

I lean back in my chair and rub my hand across my mouth.

I'd explained that we hadn't been able to identify the body we'd found, drained of blood and hanging upside down from a tree in the park not far from where Kyle was killed. It was too close an imitation of the second feast to be a coincidence, and yet the timing was off. According to Carlos, the "Feast of Blood" wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow night. In the meantime, I had no intention of letting him out of my sight.

"Listen," I say, "I get that you're worried about your aunt, but whatever's happened to her is not your fault. Just like what happened to me isn't my fault."

Carlos shakes his head. "What happened to you — what happened to your dad — that was random, yeah. Me? I was born to this shit. You believe in karma?"

"Uh... I don't know. I guess that depends if people really have souls that survive death, and I'm not completely convinced of that."

To my surprise, he bursts out laughing, doubling over and nearly overturning the glass of the red wine he'd matched with the chicken mole he'd served for dinner. I had had none, as wine disagrees with me, and yet the bottle is almost empty.

"An agnostic vampire? Okay, now I can die happy. I've seen everything."

I frown as he giggles into his folded arms, one of which is still enclosed in a thick white cast from the elbow down.

"Are you drunk?" I ask, rising and coming around to his end of the long table.

He sighs, shoulders heaving. "Maybe."

I rest my hand on his back, then nearly double over myself as I breathe in his scent.

Fuck, that's good.

I blink and shake my head, and take another breath, convincing myself that I'm okay; that I'm a stable, well-adjusted individual who isn't about to sink my teeth into the man with whom I may or may not be falling in—

"Alright," I say. "Alright; we'll consider it. But first, let's get you to bed. You're wasted."

Carlos giggles again, the sound like champagne bubbles in my ears.

"Story of my life," he says. "Wasted."

I frown as I guide him up the stairs, wondering what he means. He makes it clear enough when we reach the door of his room and he presses himself against me, hip to chest, and wraps his arms around my back, resting his head on my shoulder.

"I don't know what's going on, John," he says. "My mom, my aunt; whatever the fuck is happening here. But if you can use me in any way, you should. Use me. I'm a... I'm a medium, like my mom was. I could talk to Kyle. Maybe to Richard. Maybe even find out whose body you found. If there's a chance, shouldn't we take it? I'm just a waste of resources, otherwise."

Feeling as if his question goes much further than he thinks, I merely tighten my arms around his back and enjoy the sensation of his strong, slender body against mine.

"Go to sleep," I say. "We'll talk about this tomorrow. But... if you think a seance is what we need, then that's what we'll do."

He pulls away from me a little and meets my eyes, his own as dark and sweet as molasses in the dim light.

Then he sways and falls against the door-frame, forcing me to catch him.

"Whoa. You okay?"

He blinks up at me. "Not really. My world is kinda falling apart. Got any tips?"

A laugh escapes me, as unstoppable as a cough or a sneeze, and in that moment, I know I'm lost. Still, I don't have to take this beautiful man down with me.

"A good night's rest," I say. "Undisturbed. And tomorrow, a seance, first thing."

"First thing," he slurs, and collapses in my arms.

I shut my eyes. David warned me I would be tested, but if this is what he meant, he was off base.

I scoop Carlos up in my arms, carry him into his room, and lay him in his bed. And, even as I gaze down at his lovely, unconscious face, his long dark lashes casting shadows on the high slopes of his cheeks, I tell myself I'm not tempted.

Nope. Not even a little bit.

Then, in my room, I call David.

Because, like I said, he warned me this would happen.