Twilight Dreams (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was almost 11
AM
when Holly awoke. Turning onto her side, she stared out her bedroom window. The danger was past and she was home, in her own bed.

Where was Micah?

She shook the thought away as soon as it surfaced. She wouldn't think about him, not now. She needed a little space of her own. A little time to reflect on the events of the last few weeks. Time to sift through her jumbled thoughts and feelings when Micah wasn't there to influence her.

Throwing the covers aside, she headed for the shower.

A short time later, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she went into the kitchen, only then remembering that—like old Mother Hubbard—her cupboards were bare.

It seemed odd to go out alone during the day.

Holly pushed her shopping cart up and down the aisles, buying whatever caught her fancy. She stopped to shoot the breeze with a neighbor she met in the bread aisle, thinking how strange it felt to exchange idle chitchat with another human being after spending so much time among vampires.

She smiled at the cashier when he said he'd missed her.

“I was on vacation,” Holly said, swiping her credit card.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yes. And no. See you next week.”

At home, while putting the groceries away, she let herself think of Micah. He would be resting now. Had he gone to see his parents? What had they said about being held by Braga? Had he told them that he, too, was a vampire? If so, what had their reaction been? Having met his parents, she was certain they wouldn't stop loving him, vampire or not.

Had he stayed home or gone back to Morgan Creek with Kadie and Saintcrow?

Was he missing her?

Was he angry because she had left without so much as a good-bye?

Of course, he wouldn't have to look very far, since he knew where she lived. Would he come here? Did she want him to?

When all the groceries were put away, she made a late breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. She ate quickly, loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, then went into the living room, took a deep breath, and called Mr. Gladstone.

She crossed her fingers when he answered the phone.

He was polite, he was sympathetic, he was succinct.

She was no longer employed at the offices of Gladstone and Becket.

* * *

Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, Micah strolled the dark streets of downtown Los Angeles. He passed drunks and derelicts, gang members with shaved heads and leather jackets. This time of night, decent people stayed off the streets. He nodded to the officer behind the wheel of a black-and-white when the cop slowed to give him the once-over.

A week had passed since Saintcrow had destroyed Braga and Holly had hightailed it for home.

Holly. She was in his every waking thought. Time and again, he had contemplated going to her house. A few times, he'd made it as far as her front porch, but so far he hadn't found the courage to knock on the door.

Give her time
, Saintcrow had said.

Easy for him to say. He didn't spend his nights wondering if the woman he loved had decided she never wanted to see him again. Or if she was going out with someone else.

But Holly wasn't his only worry. In the last week, he'd had several calls from Sofia asking questions about vampires. She seemed to think that being Undead was some kind of romantic fairy tale where everyone lived happily ever after. So far, nothing he'd said had changed her mind.

Tired of his own company, Micah went in search of a nightclub, hoping to drown his sorrows in blood and wine.

The first club he came to was a seedy tavern in a bad part of town, populated by a handful of disreputable-looking patrons, from the pasty-faced druggie slumped over a corner table to the hooker trying to persuade a john to take her home.

Micah ordered a glass of red wine, thinking that even if he was starving for nourishment, he would rather go hungry than prey on anybody in the place.

Muttering, “What the hell am I doing here?” he left the tavern in search of greener pastures.

Lost in thought, it took him a moment to realize someone was stalking him. Lifting his head, he opened his senses. Two men trailed behind him. Both had had too much to drink; one was armed with a snub-nosed pistol. They were spoiling for a fight.

Micah grinned into the darkness as he deliberately slowed his pace.
Bring it on
, he thought.
I could use the diversion.

In the end, it was little more than a scuffle that the would-be assailants never had a chance of winning. Micah knocked out the gunman with a well-placed uppercut. The second man eased Micah's hunger before he was rendered unconscious.

“This is what it's like to be a vampire, little sister,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Walking the streets alone. Preying on the stupid and the weak. There's no way I'm letting this happen to you, Sofie. No way in hell!”

* * *

Holly spent a week feeling sorry for herself. She had lost a job she loved. She had lost a man she might have loved. She drowned her sorrows in hot fudge sundaes with double whipped cream, and cookies-and-cream lattes. When she wasn't wallowing in self-pity, she buried herself in housework and yard work.

When the allotted week was up, she went online and filled out job applications and resumes until she couldn't see straight.

Thanks to a downturn in the economy, no one was hiring.

Friday night, determined not to sink into a swamp of self-pity again, she showered, did her hair and her nails, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a silky white shirt, and went to a nightclub where one of her favorite bands happened to be playing.

She had hoped listening to music she loved and being surrounded by people having a good time would somehow boost her morale. An hour later, she felt more depressed than ever.

“Another good idea shot to hell,” Holly muttered, slipping into her coat. She seemed to be the only person in the crowd without a friend at her side or a date in her arms.

Why had she left Micah? she wondered, threading her way through the crowd toward the door. So, he was a vampire. So, he drank blood. At least he made her feel beautiful, desired. Happy. If she sent him a mental invitation, would he hear her? Would he answer?

The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than he was there, striding toward her. Had he always been that handsome, his hair that dark a brown, his eyes so mesmerizing? Just looking at him took her breath away. Tall, dark, devilishly sexy. He cut through the throng of people on the dance floor like a hot knife through butter, his gaze focused on her, oblivious to the number of women who turned to stare longingly at him as he passed by.

“Holly.”

Just hearing her name on his lips made her heart skip a beat.

“You heard me.” She couldn't stop looking at him. Just being close to him made her feel as if she had been sleepwalking through life since they'd parted.

“Did you think I wouldn't?” His gaze caressed her, so intense it was almost tangible.

“I didn't know. Micah . . .”

“Yes, love?”

“I just . . . I . . .”

“I know.” He smiled down at her, his arms gently circling her waist, drawing her body close to his as he lowered his head to claim her lips.

This was what she wanted, she thought. What she had been missing. What she needed. Just Micah.

“I missed you, too. Are you ready to go?” he asked, taking her hand in his.

She nodded. She didn't care where they went, as long as they were together, as long as he would fold her into his embrace when they got there and kiss her again.

Outside, he wrapped his arms around her. “Hold on tight.”

Holly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were in Shirley's house in Morgan Creek.

Micah set her on her feet. Moments later, a fire crackled in the hearth; soft music came from the speakers. A bottle of wine and two glasses waited for them on the coffee table, along with a plate of crackers and cheese.

Holly looked at Micah, her brow furrowed as she removed her coat. “When did you do all this?”

“I made a quick trip to the store when I heard you thinking about me, just in case you called for me.” Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa. “How have you been, Holly?”

“Don't you know?”

He shook his head. “I blocked you from my thoughts for a while, hoping it would help me forget you. It didn't work. I started to call you a dozen times, but Saintcrow told me to give you some space, so . . .” He shook his head again. “If you hadn't called me tonight, I would have come to you. I need you in my life, sunshine.”

“Oh, Micah.” She leaned into him, lifting her head for his kiss. Right or wrong, she wanted him. Tonight or for always, she wanted him.

“Holly!”

He swept her into his arms, his mouth exploring hers in a searing kiss she felt all the way to her toes. It burned away every doubt even as it ignited her desire. He eased her back onto the sofa, his body tight against hers, his hand stroking up and down her side, lightly skimming her breast, cupping her buttocks to draw her closer.

She moaned softly when his tongue laved her neck, clutched his shoulders at the touch of his fangs.

“Holly?”

She nodded, then sighed when she felt the prick of his fangs. His bite heightened every sensation.

She wanted him desperately, felt bereft when he lifted his head.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she whispered. “Now.”

“Are you sure?”

Of course she was sure. Wasn't she? She gazed up at him, torn. There was only one thing more intimate than letting him drink her blood. Was she ready to cross that line?

As always, he knew what she was thinking. “It's okay, sunshine,” he said, his voice thick. “When we make love, I don't want you to have any doubts.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Taking it slow was the smart thing to do. She was young, innocent in many ways. When he took her, he didn't want her to have any regrets.

* * *

Later, wrapped in Micah's arms, Holly felt guilty. She hadn't meant to lead him on. She had been so certain making love was what she wanted. And yet, when it came right down to it, she had hesitated. Frowning, she stared at the flames, absently noting that the wood burned but was never consumed. She didn't really have anything to feel guilty about, she told herself. It was a woman's right to change her mind. And until she knew him better, until there was some kind of commitment between them, she wasn't risking her heart. And once she gave Micah her body, her heart would surely follow.

Remembering, too late, that he could read her mind, she bit down on her lower lip. Maybe he hadn't been listening.

She looked up at him, and frowned, thinking he looked far away. “Micah?”

“What?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“No reason, except you seem so distant.”

“Sorry. I was thinking about my sister. Sofia. She wants to be a vampire.”

“What?”

“Yeah. She's been fascinated with vampires since she was a little girl. It's bizarre. When she found out I was one, she asked me to turn her.” He shook his head. “After what happened to my folks, you'd think being a vampire would be the last thing she'd want. I told her we'd talk about it when she's older, but I'm afraid she won't wait.”

“Is it that easy to just go out and find a vampire? And suppose she finds one . . . ?” Holly grimaced at the thought of his pretty little sister turning into a predator roaming the night in search of blood.

“I don't even want to go there.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I think I'd better sit her down and have another talk, explain to her about being sired and what it means before she does something stupid.”

“What does it mean?”

“It's like the blood bond you and I share, only it's stronger, more compelling. Only death can break it.”

“That's kinda scary.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “It can be. Especially if you're turned by someone you don't like.”

“Is there really no way to undo it once you're turned?”

“If there was, believe me, I'd have tried it a long time ago.”

Holly rested her cheek against his chest, content to be in his arms. She tried to imagine what her life would be like if she stayed with him. She would go to work while he slept, but they would spend their nights together. She tried to imagine living with a man who could only share half her life. There would be no summer days at the beach. No picnics in the park on the Fourth of July, but at night they could watch the fireworks together. No Christmas mornings with his parents or hers, but they could spend Christmas Eve with family. What about kids? Somehow, she doubted children would be possible.

Holly sighed, then murmured, “Where do we go from here?”

“I guess that's up to you.”

She had contemplated what it would be like to stay with Micah. Now, she tried to imagine her life without him, but it didn't bear thinking about. The past week had proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wanted—needed—him in her life.

“Before you make a decision, you should know that I can't father a child.”

Holly nodded. Hadn't she guessed as much?

“Is that a deal breaker?” he asked. “I know kids are important to most women.”