Twilight Dreams (11 page)

“That was very thoughtful. Thank you.” He constantly surprised her, she thought.

He shrugged. “Kadie used to like it.”

To Holly's surprise, Rylan Saintcrow proved to be remarkably good company. They played several hands, and then, unable to restrain her curiosity, she asked the inevitable question. “How long have you been a vampire?”

He studied her face for several moments, then laid his cards aside. “A very long time. It happened during the Crusades. A lot of men died on the way to the Holy Land. They were the lucky ones. Many of us died from lack of food and water, or from the heat. We all learned firsthand what hell was like as we marched across the desert in full armor.

“In the beginning, we thought it was exciting, riding off to war for God and glory, but our enthusiasm quickly waned, replaced by the stink of fear and death.

“I was wounded in battle. It was a mortal wound. I dragged myself off the field to die. A woman found me there. A beautiful woman with long blond hair and the face of a saint. She gave me a drink of water, sang me a song.”

He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “She spoke to me in a quiet voice. I don't recall much of what she said. I was close to death when she asked me if I wanted to die. A foolish question at such a time,” he said with a wry grin. “I was too far gone to answer.

“What happened next is only a hazy memory. ‘The lust for life burns strong and bright within you,' she said. ‘It would be a shame to let that flame be snuffed out so quickly.' I can still feel the sting of her teeth at my throat, but it didn't really hurt. I was drifting away in a sea of red when she slapped me. It jerked me back from the brink of eternity. Lifting my head, she held her bleeding wrist to my mouth and told me to drink.” He grunted softly. “When I woke the next night, I was a vampire, although I didn't realize it at the time. All I knew was that I was ravenous.

“I heard voices in the distance. Three men were gathered around a small fire. I called out and they invited me to join them. I must have looked pretty awful, my clothes all torn and stained with blood. When they drew their weapons . . .” He shrugged. “I did what vampires do.”

“What does any of that have to do with Braga?”

“Nothing. Her quarrel with me happened centuries later.”

“And the vampire who turned you?”

“I never saw her again.”

So, Holly thought, like Micah, Saintcrow had been turned and left to fend for himself. Was that why he had taken Micah under his wing, because he'd known what Micah had been going through?

Saintcrow glanced out the window.

Holly followed his gaze. The clouds were gone; the sun was a bright blaze of light in the clear blue sky.

Saintcrow rose with a rueful grin. “Alas, I fear I must take my leave.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was gone.

Holly took a deep breath and blew it out in a long, slow sigh. How quickly her life had changed from the mundane to the bizarre!

Picking up the deck, she shuffled the cards, then dealt a hand of solitaire, only to sit there, staring at the ace of spades.

Saintcrow had been alive during the Crusades.

Micah was a vampire. Would he live as long as Saintcrow?

But Micah's lifespan wasn't the question she contemplated on the walk back to Shirley's house. Rather, it was Micah himself and her deepening feelings for him that troubled her. Against her better judgment, she was falling in love with him. And how dangerous was that? If she let herself love him, she might one day find herself having to make the same kind of life-and-death decision Kadie had made.

Holly paused at the bottom of the porch steps. If she had to make such a choice, what would it be? Leave the man she loved? Stay with him and grow old while he remained forever young? Or give him her heart and soul and become a vampire?

It was a question for which she had no answer.

A decision she hoped was never placed before her.

Chapter Thirteen

Leticia Braga paced the floor of the abandoned warehouse she was currently using as a lair. “We've searched the town from one end to the other,” she muttered. “There's no trace of the vampire or the girl he was with. Where could they have gone?”

From his place in the corner, Mahlon shrugged. “The trail is cold.”

“You have a gift for stating the obvious!” she snapped. “Now, how are we going to find him?”

“The girl's house.”

“What about it?”

“Maybe I can find something useful inside.”

“Well, don't just stand there!”

“Yes, mistress.”

Leticia shook her head as she watched him shamble out the door. He was as strong as an ox. And as dumb as a stump. But he was unfailingly loyal, due in no small part to the fact that she had once saved him from a mob bent on burning him at the stake. She wasn't sure what he was—part fairy or demon, part troll or ogre—but it didn't matter. They were both stronger when they were together.

Restless, she changed into a long black dress, then transported herself to a small tavern located on a side street in North Hollywood, a place inhabited by vampires and their human companions.

It was early and the crowd was sparse. She had been visiting vampire hangouts across the country for decades. She was well aware that the odds of running into anyone acquainted with Rylan Saintcrow were slim at best. Nevertheless, sooner or later, she was certain her luck would change. Fate would not be so cruel as to deny her the satisfaction of destroying the man who had killed Gavin.

She was on her way out of the club several hours later when she passed two vampires standing near the door. Neither posed a threat, and she spared them hardly a glance until she overheard one of them mention Saintcrow's name. She paused just outside the door, her attention focused on their conversation. They mentioned Saintcrow again, and then a new name, one she had not heard before. Micah Ravenwood.

Keeping the pair in sight, she returned to her table to wait for Mahlon.

He arrived twenty minutes later.

“Did you find anything in the woman's house?” Braga asked, never taking her gaze from the vampires near the door.

“The vampire we saw has been in her house. There was no sign of either of them. Her refrigerator was empty.”

“You looked in there?”

“I was hungry, mistress.”

Leticia gestured at the pair near the entrance. “We may have another lead. One of them mentioned . . . Come,” she said, rising. “They're leaving.”

She followed the two men out of the club. Mahlon trailed after her.

The vampires strolled down the street, whispering to each other, until they reached an alley and darted into it.

Leticia grinned. Fools, she mused, if they expected to take her unawares, or elude her so easily.

A thought carried her to the far end of the alley, while Mahlon followed the vampires, neatly trapping their prey between the two of them.

Before her quarry could dissolve into mist and disappear, Leticia pinned the nearest one against the side of the building. “Don't move,” she warned. “I can tear your throat out before you summon your power.”

Mahlon slammed the second man against the opposite wall, then dropped a silver chain around his neck, negating his ability to dissolve into mist.

Leticia glanced from one unknown vampire to the other. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

She stared at the man in her grasp, surprised by his impudence. Eyes burning red, she hissed, “I won't ask you again.”

Whatever else he was, the vampire had the good sense to answer. “Trent Lambert.”

“And your friend?”

“Quinn. What the hell do you want?”

“Just some information.”

Lambert regarded her warily. “What kind of information?”

“In the bar, you mentioned the name Saintcrow. Would that be Rylan Saintcrow?”

“Maybe. Who wants to know?”

“Leticia Braga. I'm an old friend of his.”

“Is that right? Funny, he never mentioned you.”

“I'm hoping to renew our acquaintance. I'd take it kindly if you'd tell me where to find him.”

Lambert shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't seen him in years.”

Leticia summoned her power and let it wash over him.

Lambert reeled under the onslaught, his fingers clawing at her hands in an effort to free himself.

She tightened her hold on his throat. “Are you sure you don't know where he is?”

“I haven't seen him in five years,” Trent gasped. “I swear it. Not since I left Morgan Creek.”

“Morgan Creek?” Her eyes narrowed. “Where might that be?”

“It's a ghost town in Wyoming.”

Smiling, she withdrew her power. Lambert breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a hoarse cry of pain and horror as she slowly ripped out his throat, then tossed the body aside.

Galvanized into action, Quinn kneed his captor in the groin.

Grunting in agony, Mahlon loosened his hold on the chain.

Teeth clenched against the searing pain, Quinn yanked the chain from around his neck, dissolved into mist, and fled the alley.

Mahlon looked up at Braga, his face fish-belly white, his hands cradling his genitals. “Sorry, mistress.”

Leticia shrugged. “No matter. I have the information we need. Let's go.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You've been with Saintcrow.”

Holly looked up from the magazine she had been reading, puzzled by the underlying note of disapproval in Micah's voice.

“We played cards earlier today,” she said, shrugging. “He's not so bad, after all. He told me part of his life's story. It's almost inconceivable that anyone—even a vampire—could live so long.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you mad at me?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Why should I be mad?”

Holly closed the magazine and tossed it on the coffee table. “You tell me.”

“Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'm jealous of his power. Jealous because he can be with you during the day and I can't. Because he made peace with what he is centuries ago, and I'm still trying.”

“I'm sorry we can't be together during the day, too, but there's nothing I can do about it,” she snapped. “Instead of being angry, you might try being glad that I had some company!” She glared at him, almost sorry she had let him in.

“You're right. I'm sorry.” He dropped onto the sofa beside her. “I know this isn't easy for you.”

“My grandmother always said what can't be changed must be endured. I guess it's good advice, though right now it's a little hard to follow.”

“Yeah.” His gaze met hers, slid to the hollow of her throat, then returned to her face. “Holly?”

Her heartbeat quickened at his unspoken question. It was madness to let him drink from her again, but for all that, it was a pleasant kind of insanity.

When he reached for her, she went willingly into his arms. She had expected him to bite her. Instead, his mouth covered hers in a hot, searing kiss that drove everything else from her mind. His tongue dueled with hers, evoking new sensations deep within her. His hand moved up and down her back, slid around to cup her breast. Desire shot through her and she leaned into his touch, willing, eager, to give him anything—everything—he wanted and more, as long as he kept holding her, kissing her.

“Sweet,” he whispered, his breath mingling with hers. “So damn sweet.”

He kissed her again, gently this time, the kind of kiss a man bestowed on the woman he loved. She moaned softly, bereft when he took his mouth from hers. He brushed a lock of her hair aside, and then she felt the heat of his tongue against her skin, the prick of his fangs at her throat.

But there was no pain. Only pleasure washed through her, as warm and liquid as sun-kissed honey.

She whimpered in protest when he lifted his head. “Don't stop.”

“Don't tempt me, sunshine.”

She blinked up at him. “Why do you call me that?”

“Because you're the only light in my life, Holly. Because your smile brightens my nights like the sun I'll probably never see again.”

She stared at him. Never in all her life had a man's words touched her so deeply.

“Stay with me,” he murmured.

“What?”

“I can't lose you now. I need you in my life, sunshine. Say you'll stay.”

“Micah . . .”

“I know what you're thinking. We just met a few weeks ago. We're still strangers in many ways.” He shook his head. “I know you have a life waiting for you when you leave here. Friends. Family. I won't keep you away from them. Just let me be part of your nights.”

His arms tightened around her, and then he was kissing her again, slow, deep kisses that turned her blood to fire. She clung to him, wanting to be closer, closer, as desire unfurled within her. There was a touch of desperation in his kisses, a hunger, a need that went beyond the physical, wending its way into the very depths of her heart and soul.

She knew she should refuse. Agreeing to share her life with a vampire she scarcely knew was madness. But when she gazed into his eyes, when she saw the naked yearning reflected there, she could no more deny him than she could stop breathing.

“Holly?”

“I don't know how we'll make it work when we leave here,” she murmured. “But I'm willing to try.”

He didn't say anything, merely held her close, his face buried against her neck.

It was an odd feeling, she thought, comforting a man who was virtually immortal, a being who could easily break her in half. Yet, at this moment, he seemed as vulnerable as she.

Had she made a mistake? She searched her heart and soul for some sense of doubt or apprehension, but all she felt was an abiding sense of peace.

* * *

Standing outside in the shadows, Saintcrow grunted softly as he listened to the discussion between Micah and Holly. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on what had turned into a very intimate conversation. He had come to ask Micah if he wanted to accompany him while he checked the outskirts of Morgan Creek, and then maybe go into the nearby town in search of prey.

Saintcrow rubbed a hand across his jaw, somewhat surprised that Holly had agreed to stay with Micah. Did she realize what she was getting into? Micah had tasted her blood. She was bound to him now. No matter where she went, Micah would always be able to find her, read her thoughts, bend her will to his, if he so desired.

It was a heady thing, being a vampire, he mused. The power. The strength. The vitality. The ability to move from one place to another with blinding speed, to dissolve into mist, to transform from human to animal. The overwhelming need for blood that plagued every fledgling for the first decade or so. The boredom that came after hundreds of years of existence. Not every vampire could handle the drastic changes. Some, unable to control the power, lost all trace of their humanity and turned into killing machines—true monsters that left nothing but death and destruction in their wake. Such behavior quickly caught the attention of mortals, thereby putting the survival of every vampire at risk. Such rogue vampires rarely lasted long. Sooner or later, an older vampire destroyed them. He had taken down more than one in his time.

Micah had been on the edge of becoming just such a creature when Saintcrow found him.

Rylan grinned inwardly as he turned away from the house and headed for the bridge. Whether a man was mortal or vampire, there was nothing like the love of a good woman to keep him on the right track. Kadie had certainly been an influence for good in his own life. He didn't know what he would do without her, remembered all too clearly how close he had come to losing her.

Theirs was a unique love story, he thought wryly. Kadie had wandered into Morgan Creek like so many others, but unlike the rest, Saintcrow had wanted her the moment he'd laid eyes on her. Little had he known that she would turn his world upside down.

It had been Kadie who had convinced him to free the mortals the vampires fed on. Kadie who had made him realize how cruel he had been. He had broken up families, deprived children of their parents. Until Kadie, he had salved his conscience with the fact that he was a vampire, a predator. And mortals were prey. Wanting to please her, he had freed them all—mortals and vampires alike.

The biggest surprise had been learning that Kadie's father was a hunter. That little surprise had almost cost Saintcrow his life. Had it not been for the timely arrival of Kadie and Micah, he might have died at her father's hands. Instead, Kadie had been mortally wounded. She had never wanted to be a vampire, but when given a choice between life as a vampire with him, or death, she had chosen to stay with him.

To his relief, she had never been sorry. And neither had he.

It would be interesting, he mused, to see what path Holly followed when she had to make the same choice, as she surely would, sooner or later.