She glanced over her shoulder as he walked up behind her. “Kaiden. How nice to see you.”
“Cassandra.” He glanced from his maker to Sam and back again. “What’s going on here?”
She smiled as she brushed a lock of hair from Sam’s brow. “I’ve just been buying this darling boy a drink.”
“More than one, I’d say.” It was obvious that Sam was far from sober.
Cassandra lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I may have lost count.”
Sam glared at Thorne. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone belligerent and thick with whiskey.
“I’ve come to take you home. Skylynn is worried about you.”
“Worried? Hah!” He swayed unsteadily on the bar stool. “She don’t give a damn about me. Go way.”
“Really, Kaiden, I’m not going to hurt the boy,” Cassandra said. “I’m just trying to ease his pain.”
“Yeah? Well, I’d say you’ve done a helluva job. I doubt if he’s feeling much of anything right now.”
“What does it matter to you?” she demanded, all trace of sweetness gone from her voice.
“He’s a friend of mine. Come on, kid, I’m taking you home.”
Sam shook his head. “Wanna stay here.”
“You see? He wants to stay here. And I want him to stay.”
Thorne braced himself as her eyes flashed red. It was a warning he recognized. A moment later, her power enveloped him, stealing his breath, pressing in on him until it felt as if he was being crushed.
It took every ounce of control he possessed to swallow the groan that rose in his throat.
She smiled smugly when she released him. “I want him,” she repeated.
Thorne shook his head. “You’ll have to fight me for him.”
Cassandra uttered a word once only seen scrawled on the walls of the men’s room. “Don’t be a fool. You’re no match for me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t go back and tell his sister I failed.”
“Hey,” Sam said. “What the hell are you two talkin’ about?”
Cassandra patted Sam’s shoulder. “Nothing for you to worry about, my pet. Finish your drink.”
“No.” Thorne plucked the shot glass from the bar and dumped the contents on the floor. “He’s had enough.”
“Hey!” Sam took a swing at Thorne, his arms flailing as he lost his balance and started to topple off the bar stool.
Swearing with disgust, Thorne caught the kid before he hit the ground, slung him over his shoulder, and held him there with one hand.
“We’re leaving, Cassandra. And even though you’re older than I am, I want to remind you that the ancient laws still apply.”
“Don’t talk to me about the laws,” she snapped. “I made them.”
“Maybe so, but this is still my territory and you’re here at my discretion.”
And so saying, he turned his back on the vampire who had sired him and stalked out of the tavern.
Skylynn breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the door and saw Kaiden standing there with Sam cradled in his arms.
“Is he all right?” she asked anxiously.
“He’s drunk,” Thorne replied. “Where do you want him?”
“Upstairs. His bedroom is down the hall from mine.”
With a nod, Thorne followed Sky up to Sam’s room, waited while she drew back the covers before lowering her brother onto the bed.
“Do you want me to undress him?” he asked.
“Thank you. I’ll wait downstairs.”
In the living room, Sky sank down on the sofa, but she was too keyed up to sit still. Rising, she went into the kitchen, thinking a cup of hot chocolate might relax her, only to find that, after she fixed it, she didn’t want it. She poured it down the drain, then stood there, staring out the window.
What was she going to do about Sam? He had never been much of a drinker before he left home. What other bad habits had he picked up along the way? Had he turned into an alcoholic, or was that just a one-time bender born out of desperation and despair?
She turned as Kaiden entered the room, bemused that she had sensed his presence before he actually appeared in the doorway.
“He’ll be all right,” Thorne said, answering her unspoken question. For a moment, he considered telling her about Cassandra’s interest in Sam, but then decided against it. Sky had enough on her mind without worrying that a vampire wanted her brother. Besides, he was pretty sure that Cassandra wouldn’t bother Sam again. No matter what she said to the contrary, she had always adhered to the laws she had set for their kind.
“Thank you for finding him for me.”
“No problem,” he replied, taking her into his arms. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
She slid her arms up around his neck. “Anything?”
“Just name it and it’s yours.”
“A kiss?”
“Just one?”
“As many as you can spare.” She needed him. Needed to feel loved. Protected. Safe. Needed something to distract her thoughts from a brother who had problems she couldn’t fix, who might have deep psychological scars she would never understand.
She looked up at Kaiden, swamped by a sudden rush of guilt because she was using him to escape reality, and because she had prayed and prayed for her brother to come home and now that he was there, she didn’t know how to help him. One look into Kaiden’s eyes told her he knew exactly what she was doing.
Wordlessly, he swung her into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs to her room. A thought closed and locked the door. Still holding Sky, he pressed butterfly kisses to her brow, her cheeks, the hollow of her throat before he carried Skylynn to the bed.
She reached for him, but he gently swatted her hands away.
“Patience, love,” he murmured. “We have all night.”
She gazed up at him, lost in the dark depths of his eyes as he undressed her ever so slowly, his mouth like fire as he kissed each inch of exposed flesh.
He left her for a moment to remove his own clothing and then he stretched out beside Sky, his arms wrapping around her to draw Skylynn close as his lips claimed hers in a long, searing kiss that burned everything from her mind but her need for this man’s touch. The rest of the world seemed to fall away as he rose over her and there were only the two of them locked in each other’s arms.
She felt the brush of his mind against hers and the next thing she knew, they were lying on a blanket in a verdant meadow beneath a summer-blue sky. Birds sang in the trees that surrounded the meadow.
She writhed beneath him, his name a cry on her lips as their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, each one giving pleasure to the other.
She had only to think of what she wanted—a kiss here, a caress there, and it was hers.
She climaxed amid a burst of silver light that seemed to fill her entire being with pleasure almost beyond bearing and then, enveloped in a warmth unlike anything she had ever known, she slowly and deliciously drifted back to reality.
“I feel like I should thank you,” she murmured with a smile. “That was incredible.”
“You’re welcome.” He rolled onto his side, carrying her with him.
“How did you do that, make it seem like we were in a meadow?”
“A little vampire magic.”
She lay there, cocooned in his arms, spent and content, while the perspiration cooled on her body and her breathing returned to normal.
Thorne nuzzled the side of her neck and she felt the brush of his fangs against her skin.
“You didn’t bite me this time,” she said. “Why not?”
“I didn’t trust myself to stop while we were making love.” His tongue slid over her shoulder, making her shiver with delight. “But I wouldn’t mind taking a sip now, if you’re willing.”
“How can I refuse?” she asked with a lazy grin. “You certainly deserve a reward.”
He chuckled softly.
Moments later, she felt the faint
sting of his fangs and then a rush of sensual heat that rivaled the pleasure she had enjoyed in his arms.
Closing her eyes, she tumbled into a warm red sea.
Thorne sensed the change in her, knew the instant sleep claimed her. He drew back, his gaze moving over her face and then, unable to resist the allure of her sweetness, he bent his head to her neck once again.
Chapter 30
Girard prowled the shadows outside the McNamara house. Why had he waited so long to embrace the dark side of life? The longer he was a vampire, the more he reveled in it. His physical strength and speed were incredible. He might look like an old man, but he had the vitality and staying power of a stud horse. His increased senses were remarkable.
He knew there were two mortals inside the house. He could hear the slow, steady beating of their hearts, the shallow breathing that told him they were sleeping soundly. A third heart—a vampire heart—beat more slowly. Thorne was also in the house.
Girard lifted his head. An indrawn breath carried the scent of musk and fresh blood. So, the vampire had used his whore and then fed on her.
Girard turned away from the house. Melting into the darkness, he reappeared several blocks away. He had never been a patient man, but time was no longer his enemy. No matter how much it galled him to do so, he would abide by Cassandra’s decree because he had no other choice, at least for now. He was not fool enough to pit his fledgling strength against that of an ancient vampire, and so he would not harm Kaiden Thorne in the foreseeable future.
Girard smiled into the darkness. There was no need to hurry. He had time to wait for the perfect opportunity to exact his revenge, and when it came, he would savor every delicious moment. He could picture it clearly in his mind, taste it on his tongue, as he imagined killing the woman. He would not make her suffer too long. He was not a monster, after all, and she was only a means to an end. He trembled with the realization that avenging Marie’s death was almost in reach. Only then would he find peace.
But there was no rush now. He would wait until Thorne and the woman lowered their guard. Wait until they thought the danger was past. And then, when the woman was alone and vulnerable, her defenses down, he would strike.
Retribution would be swift and final for the woman, but her death would torment Kaiden Thorne for the remainder of his existence.
Ah, vengeance was indeed a dish best served cold.
Whistling softly, Girard left the town in search of prey.
Chapter 31
An hour before dawn, Thorne dressed and left Skylynn’s place. Even though she had willingly allowed him to drink from her, the little he had taken had only whet his appetite for more. He was beginning to think that abstaining from his natural instincts for so long had made satisfying the return of his hellish thirst impossible.
As he descended the porch steps, he wondered if there would ever again come a time when he didn’t feel the need to hunt every night.
He had almost reached the corner when he caught a scent that made his hackles rise. Desmarais had been there, loitering beneath the tree near Skylynn’s bedroom window, and not so long ago.
Swearing softly, Thorne retraced his footsteps. Crossing the street, he walked around Skylynn’s house. There was no indication that Desmarais had gone into the backyard or approached any of the doors. Still, his presence so close to Skylynn was unsettling.
Dissolving into mist, Thorne returned to Skylynn’s bedroom. She slept on her side, her cheek pillowed on her hand, a faint smile on her lips. A smile he had put there.
Resuming his own form, he went to check on Sam. The boy was sprawled facedown on the mattress, one leg sticking out of the covers, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed.
Kaiden stood there a moment, then, opening his senses, he moved through Sam’s mind. The boy wasn’t hiding from anything; his amnesia had been caused by a hard blow to the back of his head. He would let Sky know tomorrow.
Satisfied that neither of the McNamaras were in imminent danger, Thorne walked down the hallway toward the master bedroom. Hunting would have to wait until tonight. No way was he going to leave Skylynn and Sam alone while they were asleep and vulnerable, not when Desmarais had been sniffing around.
The master bedroom was a large square room done in shades of brown and green with lots of ruffles and lace. It was obvious that Paddy hadn’t changed a thing since Maureen passed away. Several family photos were scattered across the top of the chest of drawers. A frame on the wall next to the bed held the image of two tiny handprints. A sewing basket sat next to a pair of glasses on one of the bedside tables; a long blue nightgown hung from the back of the door.
It seemed almost indecent to even think of sleeping in the bed Paddy had shared with his wife, but it couldn’t be helped. It would be dawn soon. He needed a place to spend the daylight hours, but taking his rest in Sky’s bed was out of the question now that Sam was home. And even though the odds were slim that anything would happen during the day, he intended to stay nearby, just in case.
After locking the door, Thorne slipped off his running shoes, stripped down to his briefs, and slid under the covers. He could feel the lethargy stealing over his body, leeching his strength, drawing him down into the thick, velvet blackness that was like death.
Sky was in the kitchen trying to decide what to have for breakfast when Sam shuffled into the room. His surly expression and the dark shadows under his eyes were ample proof that he’d had a rough night.
“You got any coffee?” he asked, slumping onto a chair.
“Of course. Do you still take it black?”
He snorted. “It ain’t coffee any other way.”
Ignoring his gruff tone, she poured a cup for Sam and one for herself, then sat at the table across from him. Feeling like a child defying authority, she laced her coffee with two teaspoons of sugar and a healthy dollop of milk.
“What happened last night?” he asked. “How’d I get home?”
“Kaiden brought you back. You were dead drunk.”
Sam’s gaze slid away from hers. “I don’t remember,” he said, his tone surly. “But what the hell, I don’t remember much of anything else, either.”
“Drinking like a fish won’t bring your memory back.”
“I’m sorry, Skylynn,” he muttered. “I know I’m behaving like a jerk, but ...”
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “You can’t help it.”
“Are you saying I was always a jerk?” he asked with a wry grin.
Sky felt a rush of hope at the familiar banter. “Not always.”
“Just most of the time?”
He sounded so much like the old Sam, she wanted to kiss him. Instead, she asked him what he wanted for breakfast.
Later, while loading the dishwasher, Skylynn wondered where Kaiden had gone. After the night they had shared, she had expected to wake up beside him. But then, her vampire rarely did what she expected.
Her vampire. The thought made her stomach curl with pleasure. Last night, after they made love, he had asked if he could drink from her. After what they had shared, there was no way she could have refused. Not that she had wanted to.
She lifted a hand to her neck, thinking how strange it was that something that sounded so hideously repulsive could be so gratifying. Was she being foolish to trust him not to take too much? He had admitted he didn’t trust himself to stop while they were making love, though she wasn’t sure why that made a difference. She pondered the question for a few minutes. Giving him her blood had been an unexpectedly sensual experience. Was it the same for him? Would she die if he took too much? Or, worse, become what he was? Maybe she would ask him about that later.
In the old movie, Love at First Bite, it had taken three bites for George Hamilton’s Dracula to turn the girl into a vampire. In Twilight, becoming a vampire had been described as a horribly painful process that took days, certainly not something Sky would ever want to experience. In other books she had read, an exchange of blood had been necessary for the trans
formation.
No matter how it happened, there was always biting and blood involved.
The drone of the lawn mower drew her gaze to the backyard. Looking out the kitchen window, she smiled when Sam waved at her. Once again, she felt a rush of hope that, with time, everything would be all right.
She dried her hands after starting the dishwasher, then went upstairs to change the sheets on her bed. At the top of the stairs, a strange vibration in the air drew her down the hallway to Granda’s bedroom. She paused a moment before trying the door, only to discover it was locked.
She frowned a moment, then called, “Kaiden, are you in there?”
There was no answer, of course. If he was in there, he would be asleep. And then, to her surprise, she heard his voice inside her head asking if she was all right.
After assuring him all was well, she went into her own room. Humming softly, she pulled the sheets off her bed and carried them down to the laundry room. She dumped the bedding into the washer, added soap and fabric softener, selected the setting she wanted, and closed the lid.
Leaving the laundry room, she went down to Granda’s lab. It still hurt to believe he was gone. It was so easy to imagine him sitting at his desk, his glasses perched on the end of his nose while he pored over his journals, or muttering to himself as he tried to solve some complicated formula. How long had it taken him to come up with the potion he had concocted for Kaiden? And how would they ever find the missing ingredient?
She wandered aimlessly around Granda’s lab. It had taken hours to put everything to rights again after Desmarais’ break-in. Thinking of Desmarais sent a chill down her spine. Where was he now? She could only hope he had left town.
She ran her hand over one of the file cabinets. She really should do something with her grandfather’s journals and notebooks, but what? Donate them to a medical research library? Give them to the hospital where he used to practice? Destroy them so no one else could have them?
Spooked by thoughts that the hunter-turned-vampire might return, she hurried up the stairs to find Sam in the kitchen poking around in the fridge.