Spencer. He looked around the room. “Now, you should all die.”
17
L ivia saw Thomas grow pale when Michael Bonnard spoke but she heard no real threat in Bonnard’s dark tone, saw none in his stance. She threw Thomas a warning look. He met her eyes and stayed silent.
Spencer smiled. “Why, Michael. I rather thought you’d grown fond of me, too.”
Bonnard locked his gaze on Spencer. “You spoke of the laws of your people. In the tradition of my people, one who sees what you say you saw—the Shift—must die. The identities of Shifters, our stories tell us, must be protected at all costs.” No one moved, no one spoke. Slow-drifting headlights of a car out on the street swept the room, briefly illuminating dim corners, then vanished.
Bonnard grinned. “Luckily, you were hallucinating. I’m just a guy who chased off a dog. Nobody Shifted and nobody saw it. So everyone’s safe.”
“Michael,” Spencer said gently, “we can go around like this as many times as you like, or we can move on to more important matters. If the Shift is what you call it, then the Shift is what I saw. If on that account your tradition requires my death, however—and by extension, the deaths of my companions, now that they’ve heard mespeak of it—we have a conflict in which I’m afraid your tradition must be the one to step aside. While the death of Father Kelly is possible, it is not something that will be accomplished in this room without a good deal of opposition. The deaths of Livia and myself are flatly outside your capability. Michael, we do not die. I suppose your people have their own name for our kind. We call ourselves ‘Noantri.’ The English word is ‘vampire.’”
Closely, Livia watched Michael Bonnard receive this news. A brief flash in his dark eyes was the only visible evidence of astonishment, but Livia sensed the almost-undetectable tightening of his shoulders, his back. It was a victory of self-discipline that he remained still.
“You’re bleeding, Michael,” Spencer said. “Your wound was not as bad as mine, yet under that bandage your flesh remains torn. I’m almost completely whole. As a scientist you can’t be trying to deny that sort of evidence.”
“I grew up on the reservation. I’ve seen a good deal of healing that science can’t explain.”
“Not like this. I know it. Unless you had Noantri among you. Which, now I think of it, is of course possible.” Spencer leaned forward, tugged open the drawer in the coffee table, and removed the brown bottle. “This is what Livia fetched me from the cellar. It’s human blood. Sniff it, you’ll see.”
Thomas blanched and turned away. Bonnard took the bottle, looked at Spencer, and did as instructed.
“It’s blood,” Bonnard confirmed. “Whether it’s human, I can’t tell. All it proves is that
you
believe you’re a vampire. Or that you’re straight-out kinky.”
“In the weeks we’ve been together, have I done anything to make you think I might be ‘straight-out kinky’? Our condition,Livia’s and mine, is the result of a micro-organism introduced into the body. The presence of Father Kelly notwithstanding, it has no inherent spiritual or mystical dimension. Come, you’re a scientist. Surely you’re willing to grant the possibility of phenomena outside your current field of vision?”
Bonnard didn’t answer.
“Michael,” said Spencer. “This is an historic event.” An imploring note crept into his voice. “Maybe not for you. Maybe you’ve met a dozen different strains of human, maybe your people have a rainbow of abilities the Noantri haven’t even dreamt of. But for us. For Livia and myself. Whatever your secrets, we shall keep them. Father Kelly is a priest, he can be counted on to keep secrets, too. Please, Michael. Acknowledge the truth of this stunning moment.”
“I might,” Bonnard said, “if it were true.”
Spencer gripped the arm of the sofa and blew out a frustrated breath. He turned to Livia, but
17
L ivia saw Thomas grow pale when Michael Bonnard spoke but she heard no real threat in Bonnard’s dark tone, saw none in his stance. She threw Thomas a warning look. He met her eyes and stayed silent.
Spencer smiled. “Why, Michael. I rather thought you’d grown fond of me, too.”
Bonnard locked his gaze on Spencer. “You spoke of the laws of your people. In the tradition of my people, one who sees what you say you saw—the Shift—must die. The identities of Shifters, our stories tell us, must be protected at all costs.” No one moved, no one spoke. Slow-drifting headlights of a car out on the street swept the room, briefly illuminating dim corners, then vanished.
Bonnard grinned. “Luckily, you were hallucinating. I’m just a guy who chased off a dog. Nobody Shifted and nobody saw it. So everyone’s safe.”
“Michael,” Spencer said gently, “we can go around like this as many times as you like, or we can move on to more important matters. If the Shift is what you call it, then the Shift is what I saw. If on that account your tradition requires my death, however—and by extension, the deaths of my companions, now that they’ve heard mespeak of it—we have a conflict in which I’m afraid your tradition must be the one to step aside. While the death of Father Kelly is possible, it is not something that will be accomplished in this room without a good deal of opposition. The deaths of Livia and myself are flatly outside your capability. Michael, we do not die. I suppose your people have their own name for our kind. We call ourselves ‘Noantri.’ The English word is ‘vampire.’”
Closely, Livia watched Michael Bonnard receive this news. A brief flash in his dark eyes was the only visible evidence of astonishment, but Livia sensed the almost-undetectable tightening of his shoulders, his back. It was a victory of self-discipline that he remained still.
“You’re bleeding, Michael,” Spencer said. “Your wound was not as bad as mine, yet under that bandage your flesh remains torn. I’m almost completely whole. As a scientist you can’t be trying to deny that sort of evidence.”
“I grew up on the reservation. I’ve seen a good deal of healing that science can’t explain.”
“Not like this. I know it. Unless you had Noantri among you. Which, now I think of it, is of course possible.” Spencer leaned forward, tugged open the drawer in the coffee table, and removed the brown bottle. “This is what Livia fetched me from the cellar. It’s human blood. Sniff it, you’ll see.”
Thomas blanched and turned away. Bonnard took the bottle, looked at Spencer, and did as instructed.
“It’s blood,” Bonnard confirmed. “Whether it’s human, I can’t tell. All it proves is that
you
believe you’re a vampire. Or that you’re straight-out kinky.”
“In the weeks we’ve been together, have I done anything to make you think I might be ‘straight-out kinky’? Our condition,Livia’s and mine, is the result of a micro-organism introduced into the body. The presence of Father Kelly notwithstanding, it has no inherent spiritual or mystical dimension. Come, you’re a scientist. Surely you’re willing to grant the possibility of phenomena outside your current field of vision?”
Bonnard didn’t answer.
“Michael,” said Spencer. “This is an historic event.” An imploring note crept into his voice. “Maybe not for you. Maybe you’ve met a dozen different strains of human, maybe your people have a rainbow of abilities the Noantri haven’t even dreamt of. But for us. For Livia and myself. Whatever your secrets, we shall keep them. Father Kelly is a priest, he can be counted on to keep secrets, too. Please, Michael. Acknowledge the truth of this stunning moment.”
“I might,” Bonnard said, “if it were true.”
Spencer gripped the arm of the sofa and blew out a frustrated breath. He turned to Livia, but
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