“Fine,” he said truthfully.
“Hungry?”
Patrick considered. “For a moment out there, when they asked the question, I could feel the hunger kick in.” He opened his eyes and looked at Roman. “Actually, it was more like a sudden need for a double scotch on the rocks, yet not quite like it used to be when the idea would sit in the middle of my mind and yell at me until I had the drink. This time it was more like…remembering what it was like to feel it. It was distant and after a moment it went away.”
And that was a ground-breaking first for him. The urge to drink, to get high or just pleasantly pissed, had lived in his mind ever since he could remember, sometimes only whispering and sometimes shouting so loudly he couldn’t think and his body separated from his control and went about acquiring alcohol even while his brain watched in disgust and despair.
The question he had been anticipating, that he had been rehearsing answers to for weeks now, had kept that voice alive in his mind, sitting at the far back and silently murmuring its siren song.
The question had been one of the first that the media had asked…which Nial had also anticipated. As soon as Patrick had moved to the center of the cluster of microphones, the question had been shouted at him. “Patrick! Patrick! Does this mean you are a vampire, too?”
Patrick had drawn in a breath and wished mightily for the scotch that would numb the discomfort he was feeling. He concentrated on phrasing the answer, just as he did when delivering lines while aching for a drink. “Have I always been a vampire? No. Garrett was generous enough to turn me, last February.”
He spoke the words deliberately, in a measured cadence, for they were life-changing and deserved an appropriate delivery. And now the truth was out there for the world to see and hear. He had exposed himself, just as the other three had done.
And the need for a drink wasn’t there. It had just…gone.
The follow-up questions had become much easier to answer. He had only to answer truthfully, which made this an easier press conference than some of those he had attended in the past, when his sobriety, the quality of his work and his failed relationships had been mental minefields to be stepped through, while he hid the uglier details from the press so the movie he was promoting wasn’t tarnished.
It had been a relief not to have to weigh the consequences of each word.
Roman had his head tilted to one side as he assessed Patrick, so he sat up, righting the chair properly and gave Roman a warm smile. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Better than fine. I’m not exhausted like I usually am after one of these.”
“I am,” Kate said tiredly. She had her head against Garrett’s shoulder. “I could fall asleep right here and now.”
Garrett glanced at Roman. “Figure it’s safe to try to leave the hotel? We should get her home and to bed.”
“Dominic said he would come and get us when it was clear enough to get to the parking lot,” Roman said. “And he can ‘hear’ if someone is hiding around corners, waiting for us.”
Patrick frowned. “I thought he could only read thoughts, not pick through minds like a dictionary.”
“That’s right,” Roman agreed. “Most people, if they’re hiding from others, can’t think of anything except the need to stay hidden and if they’ll be caught. Dominic says it’s like a neon light flashing in their minds. Very hard to miss.”
Patrick twined his fingers together, uneasy. When Dominic had been staring at his piano yesterday, had he picked up the neon-bright wanting that had dominated Patrick’s mind?
Garrett got to his feet and lifted Kate to hers. “Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day,” he said. “Time for sleep.”
Kate rubbed her eyes. Most of the makeup she had been wearing she had already wiped away. “As long as I don’t have to answer any more personal questions, I don’t care what tomorrow brings.”
The
“Hungry?”
Patrick considered. “For a moment out there, when they asked the question, I could feel the hunger kick in.” He opened his eyes and looked at Roman. “Actually, it was more like a sudden need for a double scotch on the rocks, yet not quite like it used to be when the idea would sit in the middle of my mind and yell at me until I had the drink. This time it was more like…remembering what it was like to feel it. It was distant and after a moment it went away.”
And that was a ground-breaking first for him. The urge to drink, to get high or just pleasantly pissed, had lived in his mind ever since he could remember, sometimes only whispering and sometimes shouting so loudly he couldn’t think and his body separated from his control and went about acquiring alcohol even while his brain watched in disgust and despair.
The question he had been anticipating, that he had been rehearsing answers to for weeks now, had kept that voice alive in his mind, sitting at the far back and silently murmuring its siren song.
The question had been one of the first that the media had asked…which Nial had also anticipated. As soon as Patrick had moved to the center of the cluster of microphones, the question had been shouted at him. “Patrick! Patrick! Does this mean you are a vampire, too?”
Patrick had drawn in a breath and wished mightily for the scotch that would numb the discomfort he was feeling. He concentrated on phrasing the answer, just as he did when delivering lines while aching for a drink. “Have I always been a vampire? No. Garrett was generous enough to turn me, last February.”
He spoke the words deliberately, in a measured cadence, for they were life-changing and deserved an appropriate delivery. And now the truth was out there for the world to see and hear. He had exposed himself, just as the other three had done.
And the need for a drink wasn’t there. It had just…gone.
The follow-up questions had become much easier to answer. He had only to answer truthfully, which made this an easier press conference than some of those he had attended in the past, when his sobriety, the quality of his work and his failed relationships had been mental minefields to be stepped through, while he hid the uglier details from the press so the movie he was promoting wasn’t tarnished.
It had been a relief not to have to weigh the consequences of each word.
Roman had his head tilted to one side as he assessed Patrick, so he sat up, righting the chair properly and gave Roman a warm smile. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Better than fine. I’m not exhausted like I usually am after one of these.”
“I am,” Kate said tiredly. She had her head against Garrett’s shoulder. “I could fall asleep right here and now.”
Garrett glanced at Roman. “Figure it’s safe to try to leave the hotel? We should get her home and to bed.”
“Dominic said he would come and get us when it was clear enough to get to the parking lot,” Roman said. “And he can ‘hear’ if someone is hiding around corners, waiting for us.”
Patrick frowned. “I thought he could only read thoughts, not pick through minds like a dictionary.”
“That’s right,” Roman agreed. “Most people, if they’re hiding from others, can’t think of anything except the need to stay hidden and if they’ll be caught. Dominic says it’s like a neon light flashing in their minds. Very hard to miss.”
Patrick twined his fingers together, uneasy. When Dominic had been staring at his piano yesterday, had he picked up the neon-bright wanting that had dominated Patrick’s mind?
Garrett got to his feet and lifted Kate to hers. “Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day,” he said. “Time for sleep.”
Kate rubbed her eyes. Most of the makeup she had been wearing she had already wiped away. “As long as I don’t have to answer any more personal questions, I don’t care what tomorrow brings.”
The
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