Cliff’s Descent by Dianne Duvall
Chapter Fourteen
When Cliff awoke the next afternoon, his mind was wonderfully quiet and his body rested after the best night’s sleep he’d had in months.
A smile stretched his lips.
Emma.
He couldn’t wait to see her again tonight. Couldn’t wait to hold her and talk to her. He’d grab his phone right now and call her if all outgoing and incoming calls to his cell weren’t monitored.
Oh well. He could wait. He felt great!
Unfortunately, Cliff’s mental reprieve proved to be a temporary one. He was hanging out with Melanie and Linda in the lab shortly before the dinner hour when the whispers began. Not those carried to his ears by the multitude of employees who inhabited the building but the whispers in his head.
Damn it. His mood soured. What had he expected? That one night with the woman he loved would banish the voices forever and miraculously heal the brain damage he’d suffered?
If Melanie and the other doctors here at the network found a cure for the virus that wouldn’t kill him, they didn’t even know if the brain damage could be reversed or if the voices and violent impulses would continue to plague him for the rest of his mortal life.
Just give up, they taunted. Give in. No point fighting it when you know we’ll win.
Never. He would never give in. He had something more than his own sanity to fight for now. If he could beat this, he might have a future with Emma.
And what he wouldn’t give for that, to have a storybook happily-ever-after with her. Marriage. Kids. A dog and a white picket fence. The works.
Perfect, a voice taunted. Then you could yank a slat off the fence and impale the dog with it. They’re so nice and pointy.
Closing his eyes, Cliff rejected the words and abhorrent images they inspired and focused on thoughts of Emma.
She doesn’t want you. You’re just a novelty to her, the voice continued.
A bad boy, another joined in. You know how much women love bad boys.
And a taste of the forbidden.
Once she realizes how fucked up in the head you really are, she’ll run—not walk—into the arms of another.
Fury tore through Cliff, so violent he nearly shook with it, but he resolutely tamped it down and headed for one of the specially designed treadmills the lab boasted.
Emma loved him. He wouldn’t let the madness take that from him.
Determination fueling him, Cliff ran at speeds that would wreck a normal treadmill, as if by doing so he could outrun the insanity that loomed. Melanie and Linda chatted as they studied whatever medical data the vampires’ latest scans provided. One desk had two large desktop computers set up side by side with the backs facing the treadmills. Sometimes Melanie and Linda would sit at them, elbows nearly touching, faces carefully blank. Melanie would type so swiftly her fingers would blur. Linda would look at Melanie’s computer screen, then type something on her own. Melanie would read it, then type again.
Cliff had swiftly concluded this was what they did when they wanted to discuss something without the vampires listening in. They also used sign language. He could’ve easily learned the latter so he’d know what they were talking about but opted not to. He knew how much a lack of privacy sucked and didn’t want to take that little bit away from them.
And considering how setbacks could incite the damned voices, he thought it best if he didn’t know what they discussed in case it didn’t bode well for his future.
Stuart woke around sunset and joined Cliff on his run. He was a good guy. Though he hadn’t been a vampire as long as Cliff, he seemed to be struggling today, too.
Miguel, one of the other vampires housed at the network, wandered in and leaped onto a third treadmill. He was only just beginning to experience the mental deterioration but wasn’t as wary of Cliff as some of the others. Flashing Cliff and Stuart a smile, he tried to race them to see who could clock the highest speed. He even cracked some jokes that managed to take the edge off.
Until Dr. Whetsman made a surprise appearance in the lab.
In no time at all, Cliff found himself grinding his teeth.
It would be so easy to kill him, the voices growled. To wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze. Watch his eyes bulge and fear fill his face while you cut off his breath and tighten your hold until his fucking head falls off.
Cliff clenched his hands into tighter fists as he ran on the treadmill. He’s just an asshole. Not worth my time. The world is full of assholes.
And you can kill them all, the voices pointed out, gleefully providing both verbal and visual suggestions that made The Texas Chainsaw Massacre look as tame as a children’s cartoon.
Fucking Whetsman.
Even the prick’s fear-induced flatulence couldn’t diminish the anger that continued to grip Cliff every time the man opened his damned mouth until Doc Linda suddenly slammed her pencil down, swung on him, and nearly shouted, “Oh, come on! What the hell did you eat today? That’s disgusting!”
Stuart burst into laughter, stumbled, then flew backward off the treadmill and slammed into the huge padded mat Melanie had fastened to the wall behind them for just such occasions. On Cliff’s other side, Miguel did the same while the vamps down the hallway burst into guffaws.
Even Melanie couldn’t hide her laughter as Whetsman’s face flamed and he beat a hasty retreat from the lab, muttering something about unprofessionalism.
Cliff slowed his speed as the anger within him receded. With Whetsman gone, he could once again focus on thoughts of Emma, which reduced the voices to annoying mumbles. His jaw loosened, as did his fists.
A moment later, Bastien strolled in. “What was Whetsman doing in here? I thought that asshole worked the day shift.”
Melanie shook her head. “I don’t know. It was weird. I thought he’d already left.”
Bastien grimaced. “And what the hell is that smell? Did someone die?”
That sent the vampires into another round of laughter.
“I would have,” Linda muttered, “if he’d stayed any longer.”
Melanie’s face creased with a combination of amusement and disgust. “It’s Whetsman.” She nodded at Cliff, Stuart, and Miguel.
Bastien glanced at them, then rolled his eyes. “The man is a menace.”
“You’ll hear no argument from me,” Melanie grumbled.
Curling an arm around her waist, Bastien bent to press a kiss to her lips. “Did he say anything I should kick his ass for?” he asked hopefully.
“No.”
“Damn.” Releasing her, he turned and headed toward the treadmills.
Cliff slowed to a stop and hopped off. Because the equipment had required serious advancements to allow the vampires to run at top speeds, the belt surface was higher off the floor.
“You ready?” Bastien asked.
“Sure.” Cliff followed him out of the lab and down the hallway. The guards stationed in front of the elevator and stairwell door all nodded as they approached.
The ride up was a quiet one.
As always, guilt assailed Cliff. When some of the vampires had begun to grumble about him being the only one allowed to leave the network, Seth had stepped in and shut that down fast.
“When Bastien came to me, he sought permission to take all of you along on his hunts,” the powerful leader of the Immortal Guardians had said. “I told him he could take one of you and only on a trial basis, something I have never allowed in the past. This is not fun and games, gentlemen. This is an experimental treatment, if you will, the equivalent of a Hail Mary pass that we hope will reduce the aggression this virus spawns and buy us more time to find a cure. Cliff has been a vampire years longer than the rest of you, so he is the logical choice. And he has a history with Bastien that makes him far less likely to bolt.”
He had paused then and met each vampire’s gaze, one by one. “Do not forget the purpose of Immortal Guardian hunts. You were wise enough to accept our aid so you would not become monsters. Immortal Guardians hunt and slay the vampires who do not so they won’t prey upon innocents. If you think going out and killing vampires who have succumbed to the same madness he’s battling himself is easy for Cliff, then you’re too foolish to be allowed to join him.”
The vampires had voiced no complaints since.
When the elevator deposited Cliff and Bastien on the ground floor, they crossed the building’s foyer.
John, the brother who held the highest rank among the guards, nodded and tossed them a greeting.
Bastien and Cliff exchanged a few words with him before they headed outside.
Bastien paused. “Do you want to drive or run?”
“Drive.”
They ducked into Melanie’s Chevy and soon left the nondescript network building in the rearview. Cliff suspected Bastien felt as guilty as he did over having to leave the other vamps behind because he always avoided discussing the night’s hunting grounds until they were far enough away that the vamps couldn’t hear them.
True to form, Bastien halted some miles down the road. “How are the voices?”
Cliff grimaced. “They’re back.” He shook his head. “I really had to fight the urge to attack Whetsman.”
Bastien grunted. “Me, too. And all I did was pass him in the hallway. Damn, that man’s annoying.”
Cliff nodded. He shouldn’t have mentioned Whetsman because the voices roared even louder, calling for blood.
“Where do you want to hunt tonight?” Bastien asked.
“How about Duke?”
“Duke it is.”
They found what they sought shortly after arriving on campus. Four vampires. Two victims. Even with extraordinarily enhanced strength on their side, the bastards remained as cowardly as they’d been as mortals, only attacking smaller numbers of humans they knew were weaker.
And they delighted in terrorizing and torturing their victims.
Well, two could play at that game. Drawing his weapons, Cliff cut those fuckers up. And while it dampened the voices, the pleasure he took in the act disturbed him.
What would Emma think if she could see him like this? How would she feel as she watched him tear into those vampires with such viciousness? Would she loathe him for it? Would she fear him?
He didn’t think he could bear either one.
Bastien studied him carefully while they waited for a cleanup crew to come wash down the pavement and collect the dead vampires’ belongings. “You okay to run around on your own, or do you need to hunt again?”
“I’m okay,” Cliff told him. Or he would be once he saw Emma.
“Okay.” He motioned to Cliff’s shirt. “It occurred to me that we wouldn’t have to sneak back into network headquarters without the other vampires seeing you if you changed your clothes first.” Because Cliff hadn’t felt comfortable returning to sublevel 5 and greeting Stuart and the rest with the blood of other vampires on his clothing, Bastien always texted Melanie first to determine when they could slip in unnoticed. “So I brought you an extra pair of hunting togs tonight. Do you want to change now before you head out looking for other vampires or after you get back?”
Cliff glanced down. “The blood should alleviate any doubts they have about me, so I’d better keep these on, but I’ll take the clean clothes with me.”
“Okay.”
A network cleanup crew arrived, composed of two men and three women. The men wore jumpsuits that bore a pest control company logo. Each carried a tank in one hand and a sprayer in the other. The women were dressed casually and could pass for students.
“Mr. Newcombe?” the tallest woman greeted them.
“Yes.”
“Hi. I’m Tami. Mr. Reordon sent us.” She glanced at the two injured, unconscious males, at the shriveling-up bodies of the vamps, then took in the copious blood that painted the pavement and grass. If the gruesome scene disturbed her, she let no hint of it show. “We’ll have this cleaned up for you in a jiffy.”
“Thank you,” Bastien said.
Cliff couldn’t help but notice the uneasy sidelong glances the men slid his way and tried to take a page from Bastien’s book. When mercenaries had shot Melanie and nearly killed her, Bastien had flown into a rage and left a bloodbath in his wake. One that had required the network to send a cleanup crew bus. And Bastien hadn’t given two shits about the network employees’ responses when he had helped them tidy up the mess by leaping from rooftop to rooftop and hurling mercenary bodies at that bus.
“Do you know if anything was caught on video?” Tami asked.
Bastien shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. No surveillance cameras were aimed our way while we fought, but the vamps attacked the men before we arrived, so you might want to double-check.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you need any help with the victims?”
“No, sir. We’ll take it from here.”
The second woman knelt beside the unconscious males and set her large purse on the ground. As Cliff watched, she began to remove first aid supplies from it, check the men’s vitals, and tend their wounds with an efficiency that reminded him of Melanie.
Bastien turned away and walked with him back to the car. Once there, he drew a cell phone from an inner pocket of his coat and handed it to Cliff. “If you come upon vampires who are harming mortals, text me and wait until I arrive to confront them.”
“Unless they’re killing the mortals.”
“Unless they’re killing the mortals,” Bastien agreed, “and they don’t outnumber you too badly.” Leaning into the back seat, he grabbed the duffel bag and drew it out. “How are the voices?”
“Lower.”
“But still there?”
“Yeah.”
He glanced at his watch. “We’re coming up on the top of the hour. Why don’t you meet me in four hours instead of two? You don’t have to track down other vampires the whole time. Go for a run or… hell, I don’t know. Go see a movie.” Delving into another pocket, he withdrew his wallet and handed Cliff a lump of folded bills.
Cliff grinned as he pocketed them. “Gee thanks, dad.”
Bastien laughed. “Are movie theaters even open this late?”
“I doubt it.” Anything that wasn’t either a twenty-four-hour superstore or gas station tended to close before midnight.
He shrugged. “Well, whatever you think might help clear your head.” He passed him the duffel. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Cliff looped the strap over his shoulder. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”
“Hmm. Good point. Have fun then.”
“You, too.” Grinning, he raced away.
Though Cliff wanted to shoot straight to Emma’s house, he needed to fulfill his obligations to Bastien and the Immortal Guardians first.
With that in mind, he headed to NCCU to see if he could accidentally run into some other vampires.
He did find—in record time—two out hunting and watched them for a bit before approaching them. Neither one harmed the victims they chose beyond drinking from them, something he thought promising. Unfortunately, they weren’t interested in making friends or engaging in small talk. The first was good. They didn’t seem to be part of whatever new vampire army was amassing. But the second made it impossible for him to try to win them over to the Immortal Guardians’ side.
Tonight anyway. Maybe he could find them another night and try again.
Having performed his duties, Cliff sped to Emma’s quaint country home.
Excitement and nerves battled inside him. Would she really be happy to see him again? She had said she would, but…
Last night seemed like a dream.
The voices, dampened by his violent clash with the sadistic vampires earlier, tried to resume their constant diatribe.
Cliff ignored them as he skidded to a halt on her neatly mown lawn.
Lights inside brightened the windows, but blinds kept him from peering within.
He glanced down at his blood-soaked clothing, then at the bag Bastien had given him. Dropping to one knee, he set the bag on the ground, unzipped it, and rifled through it. Clean clothes, clean boots, and—yes!—scentless hand wipes.
It took Cliff mere seconds to doff his hunting garb and wipe the blood from his exposed skin. He couldn’t imagine what Emma would think if she were to look out and see him standing bare-ass naked in her front yard but considered it worth the risk. It suddenly felt incredibly important that he come to her tonight as clean and gore-free as a normal man would.
A full minute later, he wore clean clothes. Once he stuffed the hunting garb and red-smeared hand wipes into the duffel, he zipped it and gripped the handles.
His heart pounded in his chest as he left the grass, strode up the stone path, scaled the wooden steps to her porch, and stopped before her front door. He raised a hand to knock but hesitated. He glanced down at his clean clothes and the duffel. What was he missing?
A thought dawned. Swearing, he set the duffel down and zipped back to one of the fields he’d run through on his way here.
Seconds later, he once more stood before Emma’s door, this time with a bouquet of pretty wildflowers clutched in one fist.
Please let it have been real, he thought.
Raising his hand, he knocked, then picked up his duffel bag. If both hands were full, maybe he would be less tempted to touch her as soon as he saw her.
Footsteps padded across the floor inside. Locks clicked. The door swung open.
Then Emma stood before him.
His breath left him in a rush. She’s so beautiful.
She wore a colorful dress tonight that hugged her breasts and slender waist before it fell loosely to a few inches above her knees. No shoes adorned her feet. Instead, pink-painted toenails gleamed in the porch’s light.
Tilting her head back, she smiled up at him. “Hi.”
Joy filled him as he tightened his hold on the duffel. She was happy to see him! “Hi.”
Stepping out onto the porch, she rose onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew him down for a kiss.
Every voice in his head fell silent as Cliff dropped the bag and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the flowers. Or Emma. She felt so good in his arms that he just wanted to squeeze her closer and never let her go. Instead, he reveled in the touch of her lips against his and poured all the love and affection he felt for her into the kiss.
She hummed her approval, tightening her arms a moment before she slowly withdrew and lowered her heels to the floor. She didn’t move away though. The front of her body still pressed into his, inciting fiery desire he could do nothing to cool. “I missed you today,” she said softly, a smile toying with the edges of her lips.
“I missed you, too,” he admitted with a smile, then offered her the flowers. “These are for you. Some of the blossoms have closed for the night, but they’ll open again in the morning if you put them in water.”
Her lovely features brightened. “They’re beautiful, Cliff. Thank you. That’s so thoughtful.”
Even that made him happy… that she would take pleasure in something as simple as wildflowers he’d picked for her instead of disparaging them. Back in college when he’d still been human, he’d dated a girl who considered anything short of a dozen roses an insult and frequently complained that he didn’t buy her nicer things than her friends’ boyfriends bought them.
Taking his hand, Emma turned and tugged him after her. “Come inside.”
Snagging the duffel bag, he followed her in and closed the door behind them. When he turned back to face the living room, he stilled.
The coffee table in front of the sofa bore a crisp white runner it hadn’t before. Two long, thin candles rose from silver stands on it and loomed over a pair of plates and neat place settings with carefully folded napkins beside them.
Since she had no dining table, Emma had set the coffee table for a romantic dinner for two… without the food, though the mouthwatering aroma of something pasta related filled the room.
He set the duffel down.
Emma watched him carefully as she toyed with a daisy-like flower. “I wasn’t sure how much time we’d have. Last night we only had a couple of hours and…” Shrugging, she sent him a sheepish smile. “I don’t know. I thought it might be rude to just pounce on you as soon as you walked in the door.”
“Hell no. Pounce away,” he retorted with a grin, drawing a laugh from her. “I nearly pounced on you, too. But this…” He motioned to the coffee table. “This is perfect, Emma. I love it.”
She beamed.
Cliff glanced at his watch. “We have three and a half hours.” He cast her a hopeful look. “Could we maybe have a date night?” He hadn’t been on an actual date in years and craved the normalcy of it.
“Yes.” Her lovely face lighting with excitement, she rushed into the kitchen. “The lasagna is ready. I was just keeping it warm in the oven. Let me put these beauties in water first.”
In the time it took her to find a vase and arrange the flowers in it, Cliff removed the lasagna from the oven, filled both plates, lit the candles, and found a bottle of sparkling grape juice in the fridge.
When she saw him filling a couple of wineglasses with it, she wrinkled her nose in apology. “Sorry. That’s all I have. I’ve kind of been on a health kick lately.”
He sent her a reassuring smile. “This is fine. I can’t get buzzed from alcohol anyway.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot. That kinda sucks.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. But on the plus side, it keeps half-crazy vampires from going on drunken rampages.”
She laughed. “True.”
They settled beside each other on the sofa, close enough that their arms brushed. Then they picked up their wineglasses.
“To us,” she said with a soft smile.
“To us,” Cliff repeated, stealing a tender kiss before they clinked their glasses together and took a sip.
Emma’s stomach rumbled as they spread napkins on their laps and tucked into the tasty pasta.
Cliff grinned and took a bite. “Mmmm. This is delicious.”
“Thank you.”
His mind cycled back to the sparkling grape juice and her health-kick comment. “You aren’t having any health problems, are you?” If so, he’d have to find a way to bring it to Melanie’s attention. Maybe he could say he heard Emma mention it in the cafeteria or something.
“No.” With what appeared to be great reluctance, she said, “It’s just how I’m dealing with the aftereffects of the mercenary attack.”
His chewing slowed as he eyed her with concern. He hadn’t really thought about the lingering effects the mercenary attack might have on network employees. He studied the arms left mostly bare by her dress. Cliff ran himself ragged on the treadmill to try to silence the voices that battered him. He’d noticed the increased muscle definition in Emma’s arms, the slight narrowing of her waist and slimming of her hips. Did she exercise vigorously to combat… what? Nightmares?
She shook her head. “It isn’t what you think. I’m fine. I just want to be in better physical condition if something similar goes down in the future so I can be like you and help others out.”
Cliff stared at her. Did she have any idea how much those words meant to him? That she saw him as someone who helped others rather than someone who was destined to lose his mind and harm them?
“I’ve been meaning to pour more effort into my health anyway,” she added, “so it’s a win-win.”
Swallowing, he nodded and asked her about her day, much of which she’d spent singing off-key to Sly and the Family Stone while she scraped old paint off the siding out front.
He laughed when she claimed her warbling had scared off two squirrels and stunned every bird within a mile’s radius into appalled silence. She laughed when he told her about Linda’s outburst in the lab that sent Stuart and Miguel stumbling and flying off the treadmills. And the two of them continued to laugh and talk as they enjoyed their dinner, just as they would have on an ordinary date.
Cliff loved it. And loved Emma all the more for it.
As soon as both plates were empty, he drew her onto his lap.
Smiling, Emma looped her arms around his neck and toyed with his dreadlocks.
“Thank you for this,” he murmured, rubbing noses with her.
She shook her head. “I love you, Cliff. Not just your perfect body and handsome face, but your intelligence and sense of humor and caring nature. I love every minute we spend together, however we choose to spend it.”
