Hiliad's Special Gift Ch. 10-12

"Connee? Hey," Wilma said as she came in the room. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she sat on the bed beside me.

I forced myself to sit up but became dizzy. "Hi, Wilma. What time is it?"

"It's just past seven. Wow, the color has come back. You look way better."

Panic set in when I realized how late it was.

"Wilma, please, please don't allow Hiliad back in here," I pleaded.

Complete understanding crossed her face. "I can try, but I can't promise you anything."

I didn't like the sound of that. "Has Hugh ever ... did he ..." I couldn't say it.

"No. Well ..."

"Why are you still with him, then?" I asked incredulously.

"No, no, that's not ... there are times when I have to ask him not to drink from me because I get so weak, but he's never gotten out of control ... Connee. I didn't mean—"

"No, no. It's okay. Where are they, Hiliad and Hugh?"

"They're in their cubby holes somewhere around here."

Good, good. Once Wilma leaves I'll sneak out of here, I thought.

"No, Connee, Lucille doesn't want you going anywhere." She promptly covered her lips, her eyes wide.

What? Huh? Did she just—

"Hiliad never told you?" Wilma asked, surprised.

"Told me what?" I asked a little concerned.

"Wow. I'm shocked. I'm a telepath, Connee."

With those three words, I immediately tried to remember what I'd thought when she was with me before. I had no freakin' idea.

"Connee, I'm going to ask you something, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Do you love Hiliad?"

I swallowed hard. I couldn't breathe. I knew then that anything I thought she'd hear. So, I might as well tell her. "I ... honestly, I don't know. Did Hugh scare you at all?"

"No, not at first. But there were ... sometimes he'll get a look of hunger in his eyes that makes me want to run, but I don't. I am in love with him."

Ha! I can't say the same about Hiliad.

"Connee, Hiliad is a complicated man. I'm not very fond of him—can't stand him, actually. But I know he does care for you on some level."

"And what level might that be?" I snapped.

"I'd probably run if I were you. But ... god, I can't believe I'm saying this, give him a chance. Make him take you out. Don't give him ... let him drink from you. Make him want you so badly he'll treat you like a queen."

I actually smiled. "Why didn't he ... if he took so much blood, why didn't he just change me?"

"Because I don't want to," came a voice in the doorway.

I turned sharply and saw Hiliad staring at me.

A few minutes before Hiliad went into the bedroom, Hiliad's POV:

"Haven't you done enough to her, Hiliad?"

"Let go of my arm, Hugh Lewis. I will see Connee." Hugh was really making me angry. I glared at him. "I advise you to move."

I could tell from his expression he was thinking about it. Like he had a choice?

"Watch your step with her."

"Oh, Mr. Lewis," I snarled, "You are the last one to warn me to watch myself with my human companion."

He actually flinched. I was thrilled.

Walking down the hallway, I felt Hugh close behind. I was quite humored by his attempt to stop me. I ran through things in my head I wanted to say to Connee, none of them acceptable even to me.

I had taken one step inside the bedroom when I heard Connee ask Wilma why I hadn't changed her.

"Because I don't want to," I heard myself say.

Looking at Connee, since she'd been given blood during the day, I was relieved to see how much rosier her cheeks were. But the look in her eyes—she was scared of me. I wasn't expecting that. I at least hoped I didn't show any surprise.

"Hiliad, Connee doesn't want to see you," Wilma said, not that she could do anything about it.

"That's up to her to decide."

"Get out," Connee stammered.

"Connee, please, let me explain." I knew I sounded pathetic, and if Hugh ever said a word about it, I'll tear his throat out.

I noticed a twinge of color leave her face before she shook her head and sunk back into the pillow.

"Mr. Fildri, I will not have you upsetting my patient," Sylvester said sternly from behind Hugh.

He walked beside the bed and asked Connee how she was feeling. She grumbled she was fine. Her gaze never left mine.

"I need to evaluate Ms. Byers, now. Leave us," Sylvester said, apparently meaning Wilma as well, considering he glanced at her.

We all convened in the living room, where Liza was getting her bag together to take over to Naluchra for me that night. Somehow, she knew not to say a word to me. That's why I liked Liza so much. She was dependable and kept her opinions to herself, most of the time.

"Wilma, what was she thinking when you were in there?" I didn't look at her, but I expected an answer. I didn't hear a word.

When I finally turned to look at her, she told me, "I will help Connee, Hiliad. I will not help you."

I could do nothing but scowl at her.

We waited for half an hour, too long if you ask me, before Sylvester came back out. "She'll be fine. I do not want her back to work, Mr. Fildri, for a week." I didn't like the way he said my name. "Against my orders, she wants to see you."

Maybe there was hope.

He continued. "Liza, Hugh, can you be with her? She must not be aggravated."

They both nodded. Wilma chortled.

And we headed into the bedroom, still without anything to say. The first thing I noticed was she had changed clothes and was sitting on the side of the bed, her body tilted toward us. She still looked angry, but she looked wonderful.

I know I fucked up. Hurting Connee was the last thing I wanted to do. But here we were at a crossroads. And I had no damned idea which way it would lead us.

Connee's POV:

When Wilma, Liza, Hugh and Hiliad walked into the bedroom after Sylvester left I thought I was doomed. It was a good thing the doctor gave me a tranquilizer, though it hadn't taken effect yet. I wish it had. Wilma came to sit beside me. She put her hand on my shoulder, but I pulled away. It was nothing personal. She had done a lot for me. There was nothing she could do to console me. Liza and Hugh—god, he was hot, but mean looking, meaner than Hiliad—stood firmly at Hiliad's side between the bed and the door.

Hiliad. The one being I didn't want to see. But here he was. I looked him over carefully. He still looked the same. But his eyes—they were filled with something I'd never seen before. I quickly averted my eyes.

"Connee," Hiliad said softly. I couldn't speak. "You look well."

"I feel better."

"I'm glad to hear it. Connee, I ..." I saw Hugh tense up, "There's nothing I can say to make up for what I've done."

His voice killed me—the pain and quivering. I wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to make me feel bad for something he did.

"What got into you? Why ... why couldn't you stop?" Hiliad bowed his head. He didn't answer. "Did you want it to happen again?" I asked, not even thinking that might have been something he didn't want known.

That was obvious when Hugh, Liza and Wilma shot Hiliad curious, eyebrow raising glares.

"No, no. Of course not."

"What happened? Explain it to me. I deserve that much."

Hiliad nodded in agreement. "You have an amazingly irresistible scent of allure to me." He took a step closer, but his body guards did not stop him, though they remained on high alert. "No human can ever understand."

He glanced to his side, and I knew he wanted to say more. He was afraid to speak with the others there. God help me, but I let him off the hook. "Guys, can you leave us alone for a minute?" I was surprised how much control I had over my voice; my mind was another matter.

"No," Hugh interjected. "Absolutely not."

"Connee, are you sure that's wise?" Wilma asked me.

"No. But I want to hear what he has to say."

"We'll be right outside," Liza said, surprising me a little.

"No," Wilma said as she approached Hugh. "You and Liza will wait in the living room, out of ear shot. I will wait by the door in case anything happens."

Hugh growled but took her hand and led her out. Liza was the last to leave, and I could have sworn I saw a look of warning in her eyes towards Liza.

By then, my head was beginning to spin a little, so I put my feet on the bed and propped myself up on the pillows. I waited for Hiliad to explain. But he took a step closer to the end of the bed. I put my hand up for him to stop.

"I felt your body go limp, Connee, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to hurt you; didn't want to kill you. You have to believe that."

What was I supposed to say to that? That's right—nothing.

"I wanted you so badly at that moment I ... I lost control. If Liza ..." He closed his eyes briefly. "I would have indeed killed you if she hadn't pulled you away. I was certain I'd ripped a chunk of your skin ... I would have attacked her if she wasn't holding you. I could barely hear your heart beat. I thought you were ... Liza said she was bringing you back to her house, here, and for me to stay the hell away from you."

The tranquilizer was definitely kicking in, as I had trouble focusing on him.

"I couldn't stay away. Liza called Hugh for Wilma to watch over you, but I think she really wanted Hugh here to ... Connee, I would never ... can you ever forgive me?"

We stared at the other for several long, tense moments. "Hiliad, I have never forgiven my father; I have yet to forgive. I honestly don't know if I can ever forgive you." I yawned long and hard, no longer able to keep my eyes open.

"Oh, Connee," he said regretfully.

"Hiliad, no, don't, please," I pleaded weakly. I just couldn't hear anymore.

He nodded then turned and walked towards the door. "Hiliad," I called out. He turned and looked at me. "I know you feel something for me because of your tears. Give me time to figure out what I feel for you."

Again he nodded and left me alone to my thoughts, a total of ten seconds before I fell back to sleep.

But what Mr. Hiliad Fildri had planned for himself later that morning was nothing I would have imagined him ever doing.

Chapter TWELVE:

Hiliad's POV:

Walking in, I could have killed Liza for making me agree to this. I made a mental note to kill her again within the next few decades. Sure, I know I'm vain enough to have it done before, but it was never here. It was always in private. Never with other vamps seeing me degrade myself. But at least I'd look good—not that I needed that much help.

A perky, short little pixey with big brown eyes, her fangs exposed, approached us.

"Sheriff, it's an honor to have you here."

"Get on with it, Dani," Liza warned.

"Right. This way, Sir. We'll want to wash your hair first."

I sat in the chair, the cape draped over me and clipped at the back. Dani had a look of excitement in her eyes that definitely made me apprehensive. Oh, yeah, Liza dies again.

Seconds later, it was over. Dani spent a little too long rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. But honestly, I had to admit, her fingers gave an awesome massage. That didn't mean I would give her more of a tip, though.

"So, Liza, what are we doing tonight?" Dani asked as I sat in the chair across from the mirror of her station. I just knew she and Liza planned on making me walk out with mult-colored hair in a Mohawk. Maybe I'd color Liza's hair pink before ... no, she likes pastels. She'd probably like it.

"What I want done is this ..." I informed her.

Dani set about cutting and trimming and smiling in a way that I didn't like nor appreciated.

I'll win Connee back. This was only the beginning.

Connee's POV:

I was groggy as hell when I woke up hours later. It was still dark outside, which was great because the sun wouldn't hurt my eyes. I stretched long and hard and felt better. Oh, man, did I ever have to pee badly. It must have been the fluids Sylvester had given me.

I threw my legs over the bed and tested my feet first before I stood, my hands still on the bed, just in case I got weak. I was proud of myself for making it to the bathroom on my own. I tried to avoid looking in the mirror, but caught my reflection anyway. What a mess. It looked like squirrels had been trying to build a nest in my hair. And my face ... ugh.

Sitting on the toilet, I stared at the shower curtain and figured I was strong enough to take a shower. Then my stomach growled.

After undressing, I pulled the shower curtain back and grinned. Liza sure liked to primp up. There were three different types of shampoos and conditioners, with four bars of soap, all still wrapped. I ran the water to the right temperature and stepped in. It was absolutely the best shower I'd ever have in my entire life. And yet, it did nothing to help me come to a conclusion about Hiliad.

I dried my hair, leaving it a little damp to allow the little waves that presented themselves when I did. A flowery scent assaulted my nose. I'd never noticed it before. Maybe it was the conditioner, although it didn't smell like flowers when I went to put it in my hair.

Hoping Liza was thoughtful enough to leave food downstairs, I stepped out of the bathroom and my mouth dropped. There were four bouquets of roses, all lavender, set strategically throughout the room. The one closest to me was on the nightstand, and I saw a card in the tendrils.

I so didn't want this. Did he honestly think a few flowers would make me think everything was all peachy keen? And he was here? It only pissed me off more.

I slipped on the pair of jeans and t-shirt that were lying on the bed then decided what I was going to do about Hiliad. That lasted about two seconds with no resolution. I kept staring at the flowers by the bed. I told myself I'd flush them down the toilet. And that's what I set myself on doing.

I grabbed the vase and walked into the bathroom, but the damned card kept screaming at me. Setting the vase on the sink, I removed the card and looked at the one word, written in handwriting I recognized as Hiliad's: Downstairs.

Meet him downstairs? What an ass! I grabbed the bouquet in a huff and threw them in the toilet, stuffing them down hard. But I never flushed them. With my current luck, it would get backed up and the water would spill all over the floor. And I was not in the mood to clean anything up.

I pulled them out and threw them in the trash bin beside the commode, pressing them down so they wouldn't fall out. I stood up and looked at the trash can, my hands on my hips. Only then did I feel my palms burn and hurt like hell. I'd forgotten about the damned thorns. Looking at the watery blood, I remembered when Hiliad licked my wounds I'd previously inflicted upon myself. I could even feel his cool tongue lapping at my skin, and smiling up at me with his eyes.

Sighing heavily, I went to the next bouquet that was set on the small table by the window, against my better judgment.

The card read, 'go.' Oh, here we go with the damned demands! The next card had written, 'and.'

Okay, so, I got it: 'Go downstairs and' ... And what? Make passionate love to me? Tell me you love me? Get down on my knees and ... I rushed to the last vase, set on the dresser by the door and read it.

'Eat.' Okay, I just needed to calm down.

I headed down the hallway to the kitchen and saw Wilma standing in front of the stove. "Wilma?" She turned around startled. "I'm sorry, sorry."

"No, it's okay. I thought you were ... Hiliad."

So, he was in the bedroom. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Much better. Wilma, I don't like you doing all this for me."

"It's not a problem. Have a seat. I'm almost done."

A carafe of coffee was sitting on the table so I poured a cup. "How could you let Hiliad in the bedroom? I was in the shower."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But you know how fast he is. I was in the living room when he rushed in."

"Do you know he left me flowers?"

She turned around sharply. "He did?" I hated the smile on her face.

"Yeah." Maybe she hadn't seen him.

"The only time I saw him he told me to make you something to eat."

"Why? Just because he asked you to?" I was appalled.

"No, Connee," she said as she set the plate of food in front of me. "I did it for Hugh. Now eat. When you're done, I'll take you back to your apartment."

I didn't touch the food but looked over her face.

"Wow, you look exhausted."

"I am," she sighed. "You'd think I'd get used to being with a ..."

I was just about to put the fork to my mouth when I finished her sentence. "Vampire?"

"Yeah."

We didn't talk while I ate, and I didn't want to. As I took the last bite and finished the coffee, Wilma's cell phone rang. She flipped it over and grunted. "What?" she answered coldly. I figured it was Hiliad, as it was still dark outside. She said nothing else but closed her phone. "Connee, look out the window," she said calmly yet cautiously.

"Why? Is Hiliad out there? Like that would—"

"Yeah, he is. Just go look." I could tell she was trying to hide a smile.

I threw my hands up in the air exasperated. I scooted the chair out from under me and went to the window, each step feeling like I was walking in molasses. Pulling back the curtain I saw Hiliad standing under the driveway lamp post and ... I bust out laughing.

Hiliad was wearing dress pants, a buttoned down dress shirt, a jacket, and shiny, black dress shoes. I thought for sure I was hallucinating. When I'd calmed down, I looked over his face. Even in the dim lighting, I could see his cheeks were rosy pink; he must have fed. Well, at least he was thinking of curbing his appetite before ... then I noticed his hair. It was very light blonde, not greasy looking or dark like he always wore it, and it was trimmed, cut and styled close to his scalp. No more pony tail! I could see highlights around his face.

"Oh, my god!" I stuttered.

He was holding flowers—more flowers, ugh—and smiling. I had never, ever seen Hiliad without his fangs, and he did look ... completely different. I gulped hard. What was he doing? What the hell was he thinking?

Hiliad looked off to the horizon and shuffled his feet. I knew the sun was coming up soon and he'd be off to his coffin. I laughed at that. He bowed, set the flowers on the ground at his feet, mouthed 'I'm sorry' then flashed off.

"Oh, goody. What else does Danny Zuko have up his sleeve?"

"I don't know, Sandy," Wilma snickered beside me. How long had she been standing there? "But he's off to a good start, don't you think?"

DAY ONE

I spent the remainder of the day in bed in my own apartment. I slept much better in my own bed than in Liza's. At least I was on my own ground. But as much as I thought about what Hiliad could give me, what I could give Hiliad, what kind of life we could possibly have, how exactly he would eventually kill me, I didn't know what the hell to do.

It was just past four in the afternoon, and after eating something light because it's all my stomach could handle, I sat in front of my computer, the computer Hiliad bought for me. I logged onto AIM to talk to Theresa, my cousin. She was always logged on. But today she wasn't.

Instead, there was an instant message from a 'Viking God' that read, 'IM me.' Was he going to stalk me for the rest of my life? My stomach gurgled, and I knew I was going to lose my dinner. Sure enough, a second later I ran to the bathroom and lost it. And it hurt like hell. I had gotten some of my strength back, but after I vomited again, it all but drained me.

Going back to the computer, I immediately shut it off and went back to bed. But I couldn't sleep. I kept seeing Hiliad in his costume the night before, that's the only way I could describe it. I didn't like the smile that crept onto my face.

I checked the windows to make sure they were locked. They were. I then proceeded to check the rest of the windows and the front door. Those, too, were locked solid. But Hiliad had the key, and he needed no invitation from me to enter. So I did the only thing I could do. I pushed the couch, with much difficulty in my condition, in front of the door. I could only pray he wouldn't break the windows to get in.