Eyes narrowed, she scowled at him, and then shrugged. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, glancing up at the building.
“Nothing you need to know.”
Her husky laugh rose in the air with the deep-throated resonance of a cathedral bell. “There must be a woman involved. I wonder, is she prey? Or lay?”
“Neither,” he retorted, his voice little more than a growl.
“This one must be special,” she said with a pout. “I was hoping you and I could spend some time together.”
“Not right now.”
“I can wait,” she replied with ill-disguised arrogance.
She was gone before he could reply.
Thorne glanced up at Sky’s apartment. Desmarais was a problem that could also wait. The feud between the two of them had been going on for decades, and whether the hunter was human or vampire was immaterial. For now, the only thing that mattered was reestablishing communications with Skylynn. Once that was done, he would find Desmarais and, hopefully, the missing ingredient in Paddy’s formula.
She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming; there was no other explanation. One minute she was relaxing on a warm, sunny beach, laughing with Sam, and the next, she was wandering through a haunted house, her heart pounding loudly in her ears as she ran from room to room, looking for the only man who could save her.
And that was how she knew it was a dream. The only man indeed.
Wake up. She had to wake up. And even as she tried to escape sleep’s hold, he appeared. Tall and dark, he loomed over her. A long black cape fell from his shoulders, making him seem even larger and more forbidding.
She stared into his eyes. “Go away. I’m dreaming.”
“You must want me here,” he said, his voice a husky purr.
She shook her head. “No. That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” He held out his arms and she went to him willingly, her face lifting for his kiss, her eyelids fluttering down as his mouth closed over hers. Heat ignited in the deepest part of her being and ran through her veins like liquid fire. She clung to him, afraid to let go, as his tongue stroked her lower lip.
Her moan was part protest, part pleasure. In a distant part of her mind, she knew it had to be a dream because he was a vampire and she would never willingly have kissed him. Would she?
In the way of dreams, there was no sense of time passing. His lips moved over hers in a seemingly endless dance of seduction.
He continued to kiss her as he swept her into his arms and carried her up a long winding staircase that seemed to go on forever until, finally, he kicked open a door at the top of the stairs and stepped into a room as black as pitch. It was disorienting, being held in the dark by a man she couldn’t see.
“A light,” she murmured. “I want a light.”
Wriggling out of his hold, she stumbled forward, searching for a window. Miraculously, her fingers slid over what felt like a velvet curtain and she drew it back, smiling as a shaft of bright golden sunlight illuminated the room.
Sunlight! No, she thought frantically, sunlight was bad. Clumsy in her haste, she tried to close the curtain, but it was too late.
There was a horrible cry, a hiss, the stink of burning flesh.
She screamed, “No! No!” as Kaiden disintegrated before her eyes, screamed again as an errant breeze whispered through the room, scattering the ashes that had been left behind.
Sky bolted upright, her body bathed in perspiration. “Kaiden!” She switched on the bedside light, her gaze moving frantically around the room. Relieved to find herself alone in her own apartment, she slumped back on the pillows. That was by far the worst nightmare she had ever had.
She mopped her brow with a corner of the sheet, then closed her eyes, waiting for her heart to stop pounding, her breathing to return to normal.
Lying there, recalling her dream and how horrified she had been when Kaiden had been destroyed, she admitted what she had feared all along.
Human or vampire, she was in love with him.
Chapter 17
Girard sat up, instantly awake and alert. No aches and pains, no disorientation. He felt young, vigorous, and hungry.
“Ready to hunt?”
Vampire or not, having Cassandra materialize in front of him made him jump. “Dammit, woman, if I wasn’t a vampire, you’d have given me a heart attack.”
“Come along,” she said with a toss of her head. “You still have a lot to learn about hunting.”
Leaving his hotel room, they walked down the street side by side.
“Tonight we’ll work on your technique. For one thing, it isn’t necessary to terrorize your prey, or rip their throat to shreds,” Cassandra remarked with a knowing grin. “Unless you enjoy it.”
If he could, he would have flushed with shame. He hadn’t meant to behave like the monsters he had once destroyed, but the smell of the woman’s blood, the rapid beating of her heart, the scent of fear on her skin ... he had been like an addict who was unable to control his addiction. He’d had no thought save one—to take what he so desperately craved as fast as he could.
“Nor is it necessary to kill them,” Cassandra added.
“No?”
She shook her head in exasperation. “I thought you were a hunter. Don’t you know anything about us?”
“Of course I do!” he exclaimed. “And one thing I know is that vampires kill! I watched Thorne kill my wife!”
“That was over thirty years ago.”
“What difference does that make?” he demanded angrily.
“I also heard it was self-defense.”
“Self-defense or not, my Marie is just as dead.” Squaring his shoulders, Girard looked her in the eye. “Are you going to tell me you’ve never killed anyone?”
“No, but as I have always said, do as I say, not as I do. So, tonight, let’s try a little restraint, shall we? I’ll teach you how to hunt without killing. If you want to kill in the future, don’t do it in any city where another vampire makes his lair, or your new life will be over before it’s really begun. Most of us are very tidy. We don’t like to leave bodies where they might be found. It’s much easier to drink from a few and leave them alive, their memories wiped clean, than to dispose of a body drained of blood without arousing suspicion. Do you understand?”
He nodded curtly.
“Good. I’m assuming you know what will destroy you, and that you need to find a secure lair?”
“Of course I do,” he muttered. “I’m not an idiot.”
“To my knowledge, Kaiden is the only vampire who resides in Vista Verde. You would be wise to leave here as soon as possible. If you plan to stay in a town inhabited by a vampire older than you are, which will be every vampire you meet for a while, it is customary to make your presence known and ask permission to stay. Our numbers are not as large as they once were, but most big cities have their share of the Undead. If there are more than one or two, the oldest is usually designated as the Master of the City, and you would do well to stay in his or her good graces. Places like Vegas and Rio are popular with our kind as they attract a lot of tourists and transients.”
She paused, her nostrils flaring. “Just ahead, a man and a woman. Do you smell them?”
Girard nodded, his whole body throbbing with anticipation.
“Remember, we’re not going to kill them.”
“Are you through lecturing me?” he asked impatiently.
“I don’t like your tone.”
“And I don’t like being treated like a child.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “Thus endeth the lecture. For the time being.”
“About time! So, what are we waiting for?”
Chapter 18
Sky dropped her suitcases on the floor, then stretched her arms over her head. It was good to be home. She had arranged to have whatever she couldn’t carry on the plane sent overland. Her apartment in Chicago had come furnished, so there hadn’t been much to ship other than her winter wardrobe, about twen
ty pairs of shoes, her book collection, a few photo albums, a hope chest that had belonged to her grandmother, and a large box of odds and ends that she didn’t need but couldn’t part with.
She kicked off her shoes and ran a hand through her hair. Granda’s house had always been home, and now it belonged to her. And Sam. How she wished her brother was here now.
Curious, she went to the front window and pulled back the curtain. Was Kaiden still in Chicago? Or had he returned to Vista Verde, as well? And if he had, what then?
Turning away from the window, she carried her suitcases upstairs. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with Harry? He was a nice enough guy, he made good money, had a promising future, and he loved her. But no, like Bella Swan, she had to fall in love with a vampire.
She grinned as she tossed her underwear into the top drawer of her dresser. Edward Cullen was pretty sexy, but her vampire was sexier.
Her vampire. Sky closed the drawer with a bang and began hanging her jeans in the closet.
Logically, she knew she should have nothing more to do with Kaiden Thorne. After all, she had seen a number of horror movies, and things rarely ended happily for the foolish female who fell in love with the sexy vampire or werewolf or mummy.
But all the logic in the world couldn’t change how she felt about Kaiden. Right or wrong, vampire or not, she loved him and there was nothing she could do about it.
After putting everything away, she looked out the window. A single light burned in the front window of the house across the street.
Was it for her?
Was she crazy to be thinking about going over there, alone, at night? Maybe so, but if he’d wanted to hurt her or drain her dry or turn her into a monster, he’d had plenty of chances over the years.
But was giving him another chance now, when she knew what he was, a good idea? Or the stupidest thing she had ever done? She bit down on her lower lip. He had gone to Chicago to see her, claiming he wanted to talk. So, she would go over there and listen to what he had to say.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she took a quick shower, put on her favorite blue sweater and a pair of jeans, carefully applied lipstick and eye shadow, dabbed a little perfume behind her ears, and she was ready to go.
Humming softly to keep her courage up, she hurried down the stairs and ran across the street before she could change her mind.
The door opened before she rang the bell.
She wished she had a camera to capture the look of surprise on Kaiden’s face, then wondered if vampires could be photographed.
“Sky.” The tone of his voice mirrored the surprise in his eyes.
“Hi. Are you busy?”
“No.” He frowned, a deep V forming between his brows. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head. “You said we needed to talk.” She bit down on her lip, suddenly uncertain. “So, talk.”
“The front porch is hardly the place,” he said, taking a step back. “Maybe you should come inside.”
“Said the spider to the fly,” she murmured as she crossed the threshold.
“We can go over to your place if that will make you feel safer,” he said. “Or we can go to one of the clubs.”
“No, here is fine.” She stifled the urge to laugh at the look of bewilderment on his face.
Moving into the front room, she perched on the edge of the sofa. “I’m listening.”
He looked down at her, his arms folded over his chest. “What do you want to know?”
“What do you think?” She looked at him as if he wasn’t too bright. “This was your idea, remember?”
Thorne nodded. Why had he thought talking about this would be a good thing? What could he say? What should he say? Curious to know what she was thinking, he let his mind brush hers. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find—confusion, fear, curiosity. Certainly not love and acceptance.
“You’re not talking,” she remarked, a faint smile playing over her lips.
“There’s really not a lot to say. I was turned a long time ago. I’ve been around the world. I’ve seen some things, done some things I’m not proud of.” He paused, wondering how honest to be.
“What kinds of things?”
“What do you think?”
“Oh.” She chewed on the edge of her thumbnail, trying to find a tactful way to ask the question uppermost in her mind. In the end, she just blurted it out. “Do you still kill people?”
“No, not for a long time.”
“Do you like being a vampire?” Even though she knew that’s what he was, it was still a shock saying the word out loud, knowing it was true.
“What choice do I have? It’s what I am.”
“You weren’t acting like one until just recently. Did Granda’s potion have anything to do with that?”
“Everything.” He sat in the chair beside the sofa, then leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “Whatever was in it kept my vampire tendencies at bay and allowed me to live like a mortal. I tried like hell to recreate it, but like I told you, something’s missing and no one knows what it is.”
“Why did that man, Desmarais, want it? He’s not a vampire.”
“He is now.”
“When did that happen?” she exclaimed.
“A few days ago. Apparently he went looking for a vampire to turn him.”
Her eyes grew wide with disbelief. “Why would anybody do that?”
“I don’t know for sure, of course. I don’t know what effect Paddy’s potion had on Desmarais, but I’m guessing it increased his vigor, made him stronger, maybe slowed the aging process. Without the potion ...” He shrugged. “If you want to stop aging, becoming Nosferatu is the best way to do it.”
Sky shuddered. “I hope you won’t take offense at this, but I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to become a vampire,” she said, and then frowned. “Did you want to be one?”
“No. The same vampire who turned Desmarais seduced me a few hundred years ago.”
She blinked at him. “A few hundred years ago? How old are you, anyway?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I’ve been a vampire for 432 years.”
She stared at him, unable to think of anything to say. Four hundred and thirty-two years. It was impossible, incomprehensible. And even as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea of living for such a long, long time, she wondered what it would be like to stay forever young. She had watched Granda grow old, noticed as the lines and wrinkles multiplied year by year, watched his dark brown hair turn gray. She had listened to his complaints as his steps grew slow, his eyesight dimmed, his hearing faded. It was the price you paid for living a long life. Unless you were a vampire.
She studied Kaiden’s face. His skin was unlined, his jaw line firm. There were no age spots on his hands, no gray in his hair. His dark eyes were vibrant.
Maybe being a vampire wasn’t so bad, after all, she thought. Until she remembered the blood part.
Kaiden sat back, his gaze narrowing as he watched the play of emotions on Skylynn’s face. He didn’t have to read her mind to know what she was thinking.
“You’re wondering about the blood,” he said quietly.
“How can you ... I mean ...” She grimaced. “How can you bite people and drink their blood? It sounds so repulsive.”
“It is, to a mortal. But you have to understand that when you’re a vampire, it’s entirely different. You’re different. The scent of mortal food, the taste, becomes repugnant.”
“And all that changed, with Granda’s potion?”
He nodded. “It was like being human again.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Yes.” He missed the sunlight, the food, the quiet that came with the lessening of his powers. He missed dreaming. With the potion, he’d even been able to avoid the Dark Sleep, that awful sense of falling into nothingness.
Leaning back on the sofa, Skylynn heaved a sigh. “It’s all so ... so ...”
“Unbelievable? Inc
redible?”
“Exactly.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you sleep in a coffin?”
“No.”
“What was in that big black box you brought with you when you first moved in?”
“I wasn’t moving in,” he said, grinning. “I was moving back.”
“Back?”
“I’ve lived here, off and on, for the last 150 years.”
She digested that a moment. Then, like a dog worrying over a bone, she said, “The box. What was in the box?”
“A coffin.”
“But you don’t sleep in it?”
“Not anymore.”
“But you used to?”
He shrugged. “It felt right, when I was a new vampire.” “Do you still have it?”
“Yeah.” He kept it in the basement. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if he needed a reminder of what he was, although, with Paddy’s potion, he had been able to forget it for long periods of time.
“You’ve been a vampire for centuries,” she remarked thoughtfully. “There must have been women in your life.”
“Of course. I’m a vampire, not a eunuch, but those relationships never turned out well.”
“What do you mean?”
He considered lying but decided she deserved to know the truth. “I never trusted most of them enough to tell them what I was. When they started to care too much, or I did, I left.” He thought briefly of Mariana. She had fallen in love with him, had begged him to marry her, and when he refused, when he told her the truth in hopes of cooling her ardor, she had killed herself. Her death still weighed heavily on his conscience.
“Four hundred years is a long time to be alone,” Sky mused thoughtfully. “Is it because of what you are that you never married? That you never let yourself care too deeply for anyone?”
“Not entirely.” His gaze met hers, honest and direct. “It wasn’t easy, watching you grow up. Even saying it out loud sounds twisted, like I was some dirty old lecher lusting after a young girl. But it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t lusting after you, but I’m a healthy male and I couldn’t help noticing how pretty you were, couldn’t help wishing that I was a teenage boy so I could take you to a football game, or out for a Coke, or steal a kiss at the movies.”