Page 40 of John’s Yearning

He knew what it felt like to put on a brave face. He’d done that too after Nicolette’s death, when he’d lain there in a dark room in Cain’s palace for a week to recover from his severe burns. Fresh human blood had seen him through the worst and aided his healing process. But it hadn’t soothed his emotional wounds. He saw both in Savannah now: the physical and the emotional pain. He could do nothing for the latter, but he had a way of healing the former.

In her flat, he led her to the living room and made her sit on the couch.

“I think you need a drink,” he said. “Red wine?”

She nodded and was about to get up, when he pressed her back down gently.

“In the kitchen?”

She looked up at him, a grateful expression in her eyes. “On a shelf underneath the island.”

“I’ll get it.”

He walked to the kitchen and found the bottle, opened it and poured half a glass. Then he glanced down the hallway, assuring himself that Savannah hadn’t left the living room. She hadn’t. He brought his hand to his lips, extended his fangs and pricked the pad of his thumb. When blood oozed from the tiny wound, he held his thumb over the glass and let it drip into the red wine. He squeezed his thumb, causing the blood to flow more freely. Then he brought his thumb to his lips again and licked over the incision. His saliva closed it instantly, leaving neither a scar nor any sign that there’d ever been a wound. With his finger he mixed the liquid so the color of the wine hid the blood. Savannah wouldn’t be able to taste it; the quantity was too small, and the wine would mask its flavor.

Savannah still sat at the same spot where he’d left her, but was now holding the picture of Buffy in her hand. John stared at it, his heart breaking for the scared little girl in it. He felt like he knew her, though he’d never met her in person. But when he looked at her, all he wanted was to protect her. Protect her like his own.

John sat down next to Savannah and reached for the picture, while handing her the glass of wine. “Here, that will make you feel a little better.” It would, at least physically. Vampire blood had healing properties that humans responded to very quickly. It didn’t take much to take care of a few bruised ribs. “Drink,” he encouraged her softly, took the photo from her hand and placed it back on the coffee table.

Savannah took several sips, then a few more, as if she realized that the alcohol was helping calm her nerves. In truth, it was her body’s primal instinct to crave the healing vampire blood, without actually knowing it. It was nature, the perfect symbioses between the two species. Another yin to a yang. Because just like his vampire blood could heal her, her human blood could heal him.

A moment later she set the empty glass on the table and looked at him. “What now? What am I gonna do now? I gave them the money. Why didn’t they return Buffy to me? I don’t understand it. I followed the instructions.”

“I don’t understand it either.” He motioned to the kidnapper’s note. “This shouldn’t have happened. The ransom note. None of the other parents received one.”

“Then maybe Buffy’s disappearance isn’t connected to that of the other children. Maybe it’s personal. It must be Alexi. It has to be him.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to agree with her assumption, as if that would make everything alright.

He took her hands in his and squeezed them. “We don’t know that it’s him. But I agree that something isn’t right. They weren’t after the money. They were after you tonight. Why only ask for two-hundred-and-fifty thousand dollars when they could have asked for a million, knowing you had that kind of money in the bank?”

She drew back a little, stunned. “How do you know that?”

“I ran a background check on you. It’s standard. We do it with all our clients,” he explained, though he still felt as if he needed to apologize. “That’s how I learned that you took out a quarter of a million dollars today. Had I not seen that, I don’t think I would have realized something was wrong.”

She seemed to contemplate his words, then slowly nodded. “I understand.” She sniffled. “You think the money was just a pretense to get me to meet them?”

“Yes. They wanted to make sure you were alone. They knew you wouldn’t risk Buffy’s safety.”

“But why? If Alexi wanted to kidnap me, there are easier ways. He knows where I live, he knows my routine.”

“We have to consider that it’s not Alexi, though, believe me, I’m not discounting him entirely. But there’s something else going on. And I’m going to figure out what it is. Buffy’s disappearance is connected to the other children. I can sense it.” And his instincts were rarely wrong.

Savannah pressed one hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. “I don’t want to believe that. I just don’t.” New tears welled up in her eyes. “Because believing that she’s been taken by a child trafficking ring means the chances of ever seeing her again, of ever holding her again…” A sob choked off her words. But he still knew what she was thinking. That she would never see Buffy again.

It hurt him to see her like this, to see her lose hope. He gripped her shoulders. “Please, Savannah, trust me. I will bring Buffy back to you. I know I will.” He had leads. Alexi was one of them. The strange smell on the ransom note was something else he could follow up on. And maybe the license plate of the van would lead to something after all.

“I want to believe you. I do. But I miss her. I miss her so much.” Her hands clung to his jacket now as if she needed to hold onto something to keep herself from collapsing. “I’m scared for her. I’m so scared. She’s everything I have.”

He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I know what she means to you. That’s why I’ll get her back for you. I’ll work tirelessly until she’s back in your arms. Until she’s safe again.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Savannah’s head.

It felt good to have Savannah in his arms, to know she was safe now. “When I saw that man drag you into the van, my heart stopped.” He rubbed one hand over her back, while the other found its way to her nape, without him directing it. As if the need to feel her skin, her warmth was just too strong to resist.

Savannah suddenly lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes still wet with tears. But there was something else in them, too. Awareness. Awareness of him, of him touching her, holding her. He should have released her in that instant, should have risen and moved away from her as far as he could, but he didn’t.

“You saved me,” she murmured. Her lips were red and wet with her tears.

He could smell the salt, wanted to taste it too. He knew he shouldn’t. Nevertheless, he dipped his head toward her face. “You have to stop me.”

She didn’t honor his plea, didn’t pull back. Did she want this? Maybe even need this? To feel close to another being so she would know that she wasn’t alone? He tried to justify what he was about to do by answering yes to those questions, when he knew, or at least suspected, why she wasn’t putting up any resistance. It was the vampire blood in her. Even though the quantity was small, to a human unaccustomed to it, it was potent. It couldn’t really make her do anything she absolutely didn’t want to do, but together with the alcohol she’d downed so quickly, it was the perfect mixture to loosen anybody’s inhibitions. If those inhibitions had even previously existed. From Savannah’s response to his kiss the previous night, he knew that she didn’t carry around a lot of inhibitions with regard to physical love.