The room is empty. I find him standing at the window in the living area, looking out over the cityscape in the distance, his wings hidden and he's now just a man. He turns to me.
"Eve – is something wrong?"
I go to him and take his hand, then I lean on him, my cheek against his chest. He says nothing, but I hear his sharp intake of breath. He slips his other arm around my waist and leans down, his lips pressed on the bite on my neck.
"Since I'm insane now," I whisper. "I might as well just give in. You can have me anyway you want me," I say, my voice cracking from emotion. He pulls back and examines my face. "Whatever you need to do," I say. "It seems like the logical thing for me to do in this little delusional world I've created. I'll be your pet," I say. "That appeals to me so much. Anything you want."
"This isn't a delusion," he says, squeezing my shoulders. "Eve, this is real."
"It can't be real. I don't believe in angels and demons and vampires with wings."
"It's real. I now have the gift of transmutation. I can alter my body at will. That's all. I'm still the same."
"How can that be possible?"
"I told you before about the origin of vampires."
"The myth that fallen angels created you."
"Not a myth. It’s all there inEnoch. All vampires have this in them, but it’s suppressed by our human origins. This is just our nature being brought out. I drank the waters of life and have been purified."
"You took some kind of drug that activated some kind of psychic ability so you can project images at will. There's no way you can alter matter like this. It's not physically possible."
"It's not a delusion or a projection."
"I've gone insane,” I say. “That's the only explanation. I don't even believe in mental projection. It's not possible according to the laws of physics."
"The laws as humans know them you mean." He sighs. "How can I explain this in terms you'll understand?" He shakes his head for a moment. "Imagine self-assembling nanobots, controlled by an intelligence, converting energy into matter and back again."
"Occam's Razor – the simplest explanation is the most likely. I'm insane."
He sits on the couch and pulls me between his legs. I put my arms around his neck and lean in, pressing my cheek against his.
"How can I prove that you're not imagining this?"
"You can't," I say, rubbing my cheek against his. "You could do anything, and it could just be my own mind making it up. So I give up. I give in. Since this is a delusion, I might as well enjoy it. I might as well go for everything."
I reach up and slide my hand behind his head, pulling him to me, kissing him, the feel of his cool lips on mine sending a wave of desire through me. He kisses me back, and for a moment, we connect and the kiss deepens, but just as my lips part, he pulls away.
"No," he says, "not like this. I don't want you likethis."
"With me like what?" I run my fingers through his long bangs, brushing them out of his eyes, tucking his hair behind his ears. "Ready and willing? Can't you tell that I want you? I want it all. All in, like I said. No more doubt. No more resistance. I’m your little pet, your little blood slave."
"With you thinking you're psychotic. You think this is a delusion but I'm real. This," he says, placing my hand on his chest, "isreal."
"Of course you'd say that." I wrap my arms around his neck again. "But real or delusion – who can tell? There's no way, so why bother to even try?"
He removes my hands from around his neck and pushes me away.
"Stop," he says, his voice a harsh whisper.
"Don't argue with me, Michel. I'm offering freely. Here," I say and pull my hair to the side, pulling down the strap of my nightgown, offering my neck, shoulder, and breast.
He shakes his head and I can see the desire in his eyes.
"I know you want it, Michel. I can tell when you touch me. You hate that Julien fed on me and fed me his blood. That I've tasted him and not you. Do it. Feed on me. Feed me your blood. Make me your little blood slave. You can't prove to me that this is real. I could be a brain in a vat and this is all just a simulation for all I know."
I close my eyes and wait. When he doesn't reply, I open my eyes. He holds a hand to his forehead as if thinking. He fixes my strap, and then pulls me out of the room and to the closet, handing me my coat. I slip it on, content to just let him do what he will with me.