Read Twilight Dreams Page 14


  “Enough.”

  Saintcrow’s voice penetrated Micah’s mind, but he ignored it. Just a little more.

  “Enough!”

  Power slammed into Micah like a sledgehammer, driving him backward, into the wall. Slightly dazed, he stared at Saintcrow.

  The vampire flashed his fangs. “Hard to let go, isn’t it?”

  Micah nodded.

  “One taste, and you think if you could just drink it all, you’d never thirst again.”

  Micah licked a bit of blood from his lips, felt it sizzle like liquid fire on his tongue.

  “It’s not true, that feeling,” Saintcrow said. “You’re a vampire. No matter how long you survive, you’ll always need to feed. Maybe not as often as you grow older. But the hunger is always there.” He paused, one brow raised. “Are you listening to me?”

  Nodding, Micah stood. “That was amazing. I feel like I could conquer the world with one hand tied behind my back.”

  Flashing a wry grin, Saintcrow said, “For now, let’s concentrate on conquering Braga.”

  * * *

  Braga’s unmistakable scent still lingered in the air when Saintcrow went to check the bridge later that night. Mahlon’s scent was there, too, though less evident.

  Saintcrow frowned into the darkness. It was obvious his wards had held. But he had expected that. He was older and stronger than she, but they were both tenacious, both unforgiving when one of their own had been hurt or threatened. She would never give up, any more than he would.

  Perhaps he should just hunt her down and take her out. And yet, he couldn’t blame her for wanting revenge. Had Braga or Mahlon hurt Kadie, he would have hunted the culprits to the ends of the earth, and when he caught them, they would have begged for mercy, pleaded for death long before it came.

  For centuries, he had ignored Braga’s threat, but that had been before Kadie came into his life. As long as Leticia Braga lived, Kadie’s life would forever be in danger.

  Mahlon was another problem. Was he Braga’s minion by choice, or compulsion? If the former, he might seek revenge for Braga’s death. If the latter, Mahlon would likely be glad to be free of her.

  Saintcrow glanced over his shoulder, his desire stirring as he heard Kadie’s footsteps hurrying toward him. It amazed him that his feelings for her continued to grow stronger, deeper. “What are you doing out here, love?”

  “I missed you. Is something wrong?” She wrinkled her nose against a cloying smell. “Is that her?”

  He nodded. “She was here shortly after dark, but she’s gone now.” Taking Kadie’s hand in his, he started walking back toward their lair.

  “What are we going to do, Rylan? She’s never going to give up.”

  “I haven’t yet decided.”

  “Do you think Micah and Holly will stay together?”

  “They will if Micah has anything to say about it. I’m not sure Holly wants to tie her life to a vampire’s.” He slid a glance in Kadie’s direction. “You’re not sorry, are you?”

  She glared at him. “Rylan Saintcrow, how can you even ask that?”

  Pausing, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “Just checking.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked when they passed the turnoff to the house.

  “Nowhere in particular. It’s a beautiful night and I’ve got a beautiful woman by my side. I’m just not ready to go back inside yet.”

  “If we leave here, where will we go?”

  “I’ve got an old castle in Sibiu. I haven’t been there in a century or two. The place isn’t in my name, so it’s unlikely Braga would think to look for us there.”

  “A castle sounds great, but where the heck is Sibiu?”

  “Transylvania.”

  “I should have known,” Kadie said, laughing. “A vampire castle in Transylvania. What a novel idea.”

  “It’s not much of a place,” he warned as they continued on. “Might not even be habitable after all this time.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know we’ve got somewhere to go.” Her steps slowed as they neared the cemetery. Some of the friends she had made in Morgan Creek were buried there. Mona had died of natural causes; Leslie had been killed by one of the resident vampires, most likely Quinn. And Shirley was there, along with Rosemary and Donna.

  Saintcrow squeezed her hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I was just remembering another time when I came here.”

  He grunted softly.

  On impulse, Kadie opened the rickety wooden gate and entered the cemetery. It hadn’t changed since the last time she’d been here—row after row of weathered wooden crosses. No headstones. No flowers. Most had no names or dates to identify the dead or the year of their passing. Shirley’s grave, marked by a tall marble cross, stood out from the others.

  Feeling suddenly melancholy, she made her way to the graves of her friends. She hadn’t been present when they were buried, so she’d had no way of knowing who lay in which grave. It had bothered her that nothing marked their final resting places so she had fashioned crosses and placed them at random on the graves.

  She frowned when she looked at the crosses. Someone had switched them.

  “You had them backwards,” Saintcrow remarked. Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She leaned back against him. “There was no way for me to know.” At the time, she had told herself it didn’t matter if the right name was over the right grave. Mona and Leslie had been past caring. She had etched their names on the crosses so they wouldn’t be forgotten. “Do you feel that?” Twisting out of Rylan’s arms, she glanced around.

  “Feel what?”

  “That sudden chill,” she said, shivering. “It’s the same feeling I had once before, like someone—or something—was trying to warn me of danger.”

  “Well, Braga’s been sniffing around,” he remarked. “That’s danger enough for one day.” Taking her by the hand, he said, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  Hand in hand, they strolled toward the gray stone house.

  They had just reached the foot of the hill when an explosion shook the ground. Flames leaped toward the sky, momentarily turning the night to day.

  “The bridge,” Saintcrow muttered darkly. “May her black soul rot in hell, she’s blown up the damn bridge.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Holly jumped to her feet. “What was that?” She glanced nervously around the living room. “An earthquake?”

  Micah shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Moving to the window, he parted the curtains. Bright orange flames lit the sky. Sparks, ash, and bits of debris drifted through the air.

  Moving up behind him, Holly peered out the window. “Is the town on fire?”

  “No. The fire’s coming from the direction of the bridge. Saintcrow’s here.”

  Before she had time to ask how he knew, there was a knock at the door.

  “You want me to answer that?” Micah asked.

  “I’ll do it,” Holly said. “After all, I’m the one who has to invite him in.”

  It was a grim-faced vampire who stood on the other side of the door. He lifted one brow in silent inquiry as he waited for her to decide whether or not to admit him.

  “Oh, just come in,” she said, again feeling that peculiar vibration as Saintcrow stepped over the threshold.

  “Evening, Holly,” he said.

  She nodded, then followed him into the living room.

  Micah still stood near the window. “Was it Braga?”

  “I don’t know if she lit the fire,” Saintcrow said, hands clenched at his sides, “but she’s the one responsible.”

  “Why would she do that?” Holly asked.

  “I can’t say for sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say she’s testing the wards.”

  Micah left the window to perch on the arm of the sofa. “Why didn’t they hold?”

  “It wasn’t just the bridge that was warded,” Saintcrow explained. “I set wards around the whole town to
repel intruders. I never expected anyone to set off a bomb or whatever the hell they used. I should have planned for that, too. Lack of foresight on my part, I guess.”

  Holly sat on the sofa near Micah. “Where’s Kadie?”

  “She’s packing.”

  Holly’s eyes widened. “Where is she going?”

  “Nowhere without me,” Saintcrow said dryly. “I told her to be ready in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

  Holly stared at him.

  “You might do the same,” Saintcrow suggested. “Feel free to rescind my invitation when I leave.” He glanced at Micah. “I’m going down to check the damage if you want to come along.”

  “Yeah, I think I will.” Micah looked at Holly. “I won’t be long.”

  She nodded. A quick getaway, she mused as the two men left the house. A quick getaway to where?

  * * *

  “So,” Micah remarked as he surveyed the scorched pile of wood that had once spanned the deep ravine. “What now?”

  “I’ve decided you were right. It’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “You’re thinking about that place you mentioned, the one out of the country.”

  “Yeah. I’m not worried about Braga or Mahlon coming after us here. The wards should repel them, but a man armed with a rocket launcher could do a hell of a lot of damage.”

  “You don’t really think she could get her hands on that kind of firepower, do you?”

  “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

  “Shit.”

  “Go tell Holly to throw some things in a suitcase. We’re leaving tomorrow night.”

  * * *

  “Leaving? Where are we going?”

  “Saintcrow’s got a place in Transylvania.”

  “Transylvania! I can’t go gallivanting off to the vampire capital of the world. For one thing, I don’t have a passport. For another, I have to go back to work soon. I—”

  Micah shut Holly up the only way he knew how. He kissed her, long and slow and deep.

  Holly felt herself drowning, going down for the third time, when Micah lifted his head. She stared up at him, breathless, her whole body yearning for him, ready to give him anything he desired. “Where did you say we were going?”

  * * *

  In the morning, Holly showered and ate breakfast. What kind of magic had Micah worked on her last night to convince her to go off to Transylvania with three vampires?

  She smiled inwardly as she ran her fingertips over her lips. What kind, indeed? All he’d had to do was kiss her and she was ready to agree to anything.

  What was she going to do about her job? Even though Mr. Gladstone had been kind enough to let her take her vacation early, it seemed unlikely that he would give her more time off. He might, she thought, if he knew her life was in danger. Unfortunately, even if she had her phone—which she didn’t—she couldn’t very well tell him the truth. Even if she could tell him about Saintcrow and Micah and Braga, he wasn’t likely to believe her. Sometimes she couldn’t believe it herself.

  Her anxiety grew with every passing hour. Was she doing the right thing? What would she do in Transylvania? How long did Saintcrow intend to stay? Questions, questions, and no answers.

  She thought the day would never pass.

  * * *

  Holly was in the bedroom making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything when Saintcrow and Kadie arrived. She heard their voices as they greeted Micah, who had appeared with the setting sun. Try as she might, she couldn’t discern their words. Were they talking about her? Did they think of her as excess baggage? Were they worrying about what to do with a helpless mortal?

  She looked up when Micah entered the room.

  “Are you ready, sunshine?”

  Her throat dry, she nodded.

  “Hey, don’t ever think of yourself as excess baggage, sweetheart. I love having you around. You must know that.” He drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you into this. I know you’d rather be anywhere else, but I’m glad you’re here.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “I love you, Holly. I’ll keep you safe, and when the danger’s passed, I promise to take you home.”

  Holly blinked up at him. He loves me. Three little words and they changed everything. In that instant, she felt certain that the only place where she would ever feel at home was in his arms. For the first time, she was glad that he could read her mind. Smiling up at him, she thought, Kiss me.

  For a moment, he gazed deep into her eyes. Then, murmuring, “My pleasure,” he bent his head to hers. His kiss, when it came, was achingly tender.

  When he kissed her a second time, she knew her life had changed irrevocably.

  * * *

  “Traversing an ocean takes a little longer than going to Arizona,” Saintcrow said. “It might make you sick to your stomach, but that’s normal.”

  Holly nodded.

  “Since it’s such a long journey, you’ll be going with me.”

  “What?” Stricken, Holly looked anxiously at Micah. Please, I don’t want to go with him.

  “I know,” Micah said, “but it’s for the best. Saintcrow is more powerful, more experienced. Kadie and I can make it on our own. But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to get us both there.”

  Holly shook her head. “But . . .”

  “I understand your misgivings,” Saintcrow said. “But you need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  Micah reached for Holly’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “If you can’t trust him, sunshine, trust me. I’ll be close by.”

  In the end, she had no choice. She gasped as Saintcrow lifted her effortlessly into his arms. At his command, she closed her eyes and held on tight.

  If traveling between cities was like moving through a long, dark tunnel, traveling across the ocean was like flying through time and space at warp speed.

  She had no idea how it was done, didn’t want to know, didn’t ever want to do it again. When this was all over, she was taking a plane home!

  It took almost half an hour before her stomach stopped roiling and her head stopped spinning. And even then, she felt disoriented. When she finally had the strength to lift her head and look around, all she could do was stare—at age-old tapestries on high stone walls, at a fireplace big enough to hold a pair of elephants, at rugs and furniture that would have been at home in an antique shop. Flickering candles in huge standing candelabras, placed at intervals around the enormous hall, filled the room with light.

  “Welcome to my humble home,” Saintcrow said. “I apologize for the dust and the lack of amenities.”

  Humble? Holly stared at him. “It’s a castle. A real castle.”

  “Only a small one.” He waved a hand in the direction of the hearth, and a fire sprang to life.

  More vampire magic, Holly mused. She curled her legs beneath her on the high-backed sofa. It was covered in silk damask—probably worth a small fortune back in the States, she thought absently. “Where are Micah and Kadie?”

  “Making the bedrooms habitable. I trust you want one of your own.”

  “Of course.” She regretted the words as soon as they were spoken. Did she really want to sleep alone in a room in this drafty old castle? She didn’t know if there were ghosts in Morgan Creek, but she wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few roaming the castle’s dark halls and corridors.

  “It’s been awhile since anyone’s lived here,” Saintcrow remarked.

  Holly nodded. She could have guessed that by the cobwebs dangling from the high ceilings and the dust in the corners. “Did you buy this place?”

  “No. It was given to me by a paramour a few centuries ago.”

  A paramour? Holly didn’t think she had ever heard anyone use that word. It was an old-fashioned term for an illicit romance. She couldn’t help wondering if Kadie had ever asked about the women in her husband’s past. Silly question, she thought. What woman wouldn’t?

  What was she going to do in this place while Micah and his friends rested?
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  “You might want to alter your hours to coincide with ours,” Saintcrow suggested.

  Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of course, she was already doing it to some degree. She had been staying awake until well after midnight and getting up later in the morning.

  “You might want to start now,” Saintcrow said. “Due to the time change, it’s a little after four in the morning. I’ll stock the kitchen before I take my rest. Stay inside tomorrow. The castle is warded against intruders so no one will bother you.”

  Holly nodded, her mind whirling. Braga had blown up a bridge. What was to stop her from blowing up a castle?

  “Micah’s waiting for you upstairs, first door on the left.”

  Taking a deep breath, she climbed the narrow set of stone steps to the second floor.

  Micah was waiting for her there. The room was large and square, with a big, four-poster bed adorned with crushed velvet hangings. A pair of rosewood tables flanked the bed. A matching wardrobe took up most of one wall. Oriental rugs, their colors faded by time, covered the floor. She spied her suitcases at the foot of the bed. A fire crackled in the hearth, taking the chill from the room.

  “I think you’ll be comfortable here,” Micah remarked.

  She nodded.

  “If you need anything tomorrow, call Saintcrow. He’ll hear you.” He kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, sunshine.”

  “You’re not going to leave me!” She hated the note of panic in her voice, but who could blame her for being a little uneasy? After all, she was in the land of Count Dracula, the most infamous vampire of them all.

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  “Stay with me until I fall asleep.”

  “All right.” He turned his back while she changed into her nightgown and slid under the covers. Removing his boots and shirt, he slid in beside her, his arm slipping around her shoulders.

  And knew immediately that agreeing to sleep next to her had been a horrible mistake. Did she really expect him to lie beside her and just go to sleep as if there weren’t a beautiful, desirable woman beside him? Sure, she was wearing a nightgown, but he could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric, hear every breath, smell the scent of her hair and skin. The blood whispering through her veins.