Twilight Dreams (24 page)

“Like what?” he asked, reading her mind. “Like this.”

Removing his hand, he kissed her, a slow, gentle kiss that made her toes curl with pleasure. He loved her. The thought flooded her with warmth and a sense of belonging that brought tears to her eyes as he drew her close, closer. All borders and boundaries fell away as he kissed and caressed her. She made no protest as he slowly undressed her, then shed his own clothing in a blur of movement.

She slid her fingers into his hair. He was beautiful. She ran her hands over him. His body was ripped, muscular. She reveled in the heat and hardness beneath her palms.

She sighed as he caressed her in return, his dark eyes filled with love and desire as he aroused her. She knew his thoughts, his hopes, his dreams, as intimately as he knew hers. Every touch was intensified, every wish fulfilled, until sated and complete, she drifted to sleep in his arms, always and forever his.

* * *

Holly was a nervous wreck when they arrived at her parents' house in Sacramento. What if her parents took one look at her and shrieked, “Vampire!” She knew she was probably worrying for nothing, but she just couldn't help it.

She was giving serious thought to making some excuse and going back to Micah's place when he exclaimed, “Hot damn, girl!”

“What?”

“You didn't tell me you grew up in a mansion.”

Holly looked at the house at the end of the long, curved driveway. A mansion? It was just home. But she had to admit that, if she hadn't grown up here, she might think the same thing. It was a beautiful house. The white stone glistened in the moonlight. A bay window looked out over the rolling lawn. Tall trees grew on both sides of the house, offering both shade and privacy.

Micah parked the rental, then got out to open her door. “Text me when you're ready to leave.”

“Oh, no you don't,” she said, grabbing hold of his arm. “You're coming in to meet my folks.”

“I was thinking I'd do that at the wedding.”

“Chicken?”

“Who, me?”

“Come on,” she said, tugging on his arm. “I survived meeting
your
parents.”

“Okay.”

Holly opened the door, calling, “Hey, Mom? Dad?”

A woman in a pair of gray slacks and a white sweater swooped down on Holly. It was, Micah thought, easy to see where Holly got her good looks. The woman was beautiful. Elegant.

Holly grinned at Micah over her mother's shoulder.

Mrs. Parrish took a step back, holding her daughter at arm's length. “Let me have a look at you!” It was then she saw Micah for the first time. “You must be Micah,” she said, extending her hand. “I'm Vivian.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Parrish.”

“Vivian, please. I'm sorry Arthur isn't here to meet you. He had a late board meeting.”

“Next time,” Micah said, smiling. “Holly, call me when you're ready.”

“I will.”

With a nod, Micah took his leave.

“He's quite handsome, isn't he?” her mother murmured.

“I think so. Shall we go?”

“Just let me grab my bag.”

* * *

Holly's nervousness left her as they drove to the bridal shop in the mall. Talking to her mother had always been easy. How had she forgotten that? They chatted like best friends as her mom brought her up-to-date on the girls Holly had gone to school with, who was getting married, who was getting divorced, who was having kids.

Inside the shop, her mother told the consultant that money was no object, and the next thing Holly knew, she was up to her eyeballs in wedding dresses. So many gowns to choose from—plain and fancy, short and long, modest and not so modest. Beautiful gowns of satin, lace, silk, taffeta, chiffon, and tulle. And the colors—white, ivory, blush. Even black.

“I don't know how I'll ever decide,” Holly declared. “I love them all!”

And then she tried on a gown of satin and lace that drove all the others from her mind. The bodice was fitted, then flared at the hips, with a short train behind. The consultant brought in a floor-length veil, and the decision was made.

“It fits perfectly,” the consultant remarked. “You can take it with you, if you like.”

“We'll do that,” Vivian said. She smiled at Holly when the consultant left the room. “I didn't think you could find a dress in one night,” she said, “but you did. And it fits as if it were made for you.”

* * *

Her father was home when they got there.

“So, how'd the shopping go?” he asked. “Did you find anything you like?”

“It's being delivered to Micah's house,” Holly said.

“What? You mean I don't get to see it? I paid for it!”

“Sorry, Dad,” Holly said, kissing his cheek. “You'll get to see it before anyone else except Mom.”

“Well, I guess that's okay,” he said. “Where's this man you're marrying?”

“I texted him on our way home. He should be here any minute.”

“What does he do for a living?”

Holly hesitated. This was something else she should have seen coming. Her father would never approve her marrying a man who didn't work. “He's an actor.” It was the only thing she could think of.

“An actor! I've never heard of him.”

“Well, he's just starting out.”

“I'm sure he'll be a star if he gets a break,” Vivian said. “He's very handsome.”

“Handsome! Humph!”

When the doorbell rang, Holly ran to answer it.

“How'd it go?” he whispered.

“Better than I expected. Come on in. Be charming.”

“Charming? Right.”

Hand in hand, they entered the living room.

“Dad, this is Micah. Micah, my dad, Arthur Parrish.”

She stood back as the two men shook hands.

“Let's sit down and get acquainted, shall we?” Vivian suggested.

Holly smiled at Micah as she led him to an elegant white sofa. The whole room was elegant, he thought, from the matching white sofas that faced each other over a black lacquer coffee table, to the plush white carpet. He figured the furniture alone cost more than everything he'd owned—or would ever own—in his life.

Arthur sat back, one leg crossed over the other. “So, Mr. Ravenwood, Holly tells me you're an actor.”

“Not yet,” Micah said.

Arthur's disapproval was palpable.

Vivian broke the taut silence. “Can I get you two something to drink?”

“A glass of red wine, please,” Micah said.

“I'll have the same,” Holly said.

Vivian's delicately arched brows lifted slightly. “You've never cared much for wine.”

“I know,” Holly said, smiling. “But since Micah introduced me to it, I rarely drink anything else.”

* * *

“Well, I'm glad that's over,” Micah remarked as they returned the rental car to the agency. “Your old man hates me.”

“I should have told him you were a stockbroker or something.”

“Good thing you didn't. He would have asked me questions I couldn't answer. Did you find a dress you liked?”

“Oh, Micah! Wait until you see it.”

“Did you and Vivian set a date?”

“No. We need to talk to your mom and find out what days the church is available.”

Sweeping her into his arms, he murmured, “It can't be soon enough for me.”

“Me, either. Micah?”

“Yes, love?”

“I'm hungry.”

“Me, too,” he said, his dark eyes suddenly hot with desire.

“Not
that
kind of hungry.”

“Another hope crushed,” he said with a woebegone expression.

Holly poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “You turned me, Mr. Ravenwood,” she reminded him. “Now you have to feed me.”

“I guess you're right. I've never hunted in Sacramento before,” he said, taking her hand. “Let's go see what the city has to offer.”

One of the things Holly liked about being a vampire was that it didn't take long to get from one place to another. Most of the shops were closed, but at this time of night, prey could be found in restaurants, bars, hotels, and theaters.

They strolled hand in hand down restaurant row. Holly's nostrils filled with a myriad of scents—fresh baked bread, fried chicken, fish, shrimp, and rice. Once, it would have made her mouth water. Now, it was the scent of blood that enticed her.

“How about those two?” Micah asked, gesturing at a young couple exiting one of the restaurants.

Holly nodded.

With practiced ease, Micah called the couple to them and led them into the shadows. “A boy for you,” he said with a grin. “A girl for me.”

Holly placed her hands on the man's shoulders and bent her head to his neck, then hesitated.
Take him. He's just prey.

She jerked her head back.
Just prey?
What was she thinking? People were more than prey. They were men and women with homes and families, hopes and dreams. Would the day come when she would see her parents as nothing more than prey?

“Micah? Have you ever wanted to feed on your family?”

He looked up, his hand wiping his mouth. “Hell, no. What brought that up?”

“It bothers me that I'm starting to think of the people we hunt as prey.”

“Ah. I guess that's something every new vampire has to come to terms with. It's a line you either cross or you don't. I never want to cross it again.”

“I never knew being a vampire was so complicated,” Holly remarked.

“It's easy to turn off your humanity,” he said quietly. “To forget you were once human. To just think of people as food, here to satisfy your hunger and nothing more. It's easy to mesmerize them, to turn them into slaves willing to do whatever you ask. To just go rogue.”

“Do you know anyone like that?”

“No. I never sank that low. But the ones who do are a menace, not only to humanity but to our kind, as well. I know Saintcrow's destroyed a few of them.”

“Was Braga that way? A rogue?”

“Pretty much.”

“If I ever get like that . . .”

“You won't. I'll never let that happen. What's wrong?”

“Braga. He's still out there somewhere. It's horrible to wish anyone dead, yet we'll always be wondering where he is, won't we?”

“I've got his scent. If he's around, we'll know it. Saintcrow, too.” Micah looked from her to the young man, one brow raised, a silent query in his eyes.

Holly eased her hold on the man's shoulders and again bent her head to his neck. She drank quickly and took only a little, feeling guilty all the while.

When she stepped away, Micah wiped the memory from the couple's minds, then took Holly's hand in his. “Come on, sunshine. Let's go home.”

Holly had assumed Micah meant Arizona when he mentioned home; instead, he transported them back to Shirley's house in Morgan Creek.

He made love to her that night, as gently and tenderly as ever a man had loved a woman, making her feel cherished, desirable. In some way she couldn't explain, it made her feel human again. And though she couldn't put it into words, he knew what she was thinking, feeling.

That morning, when the dark sleep carried her away, she was still smiling.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Micah and Holly went to see his parents the next night.

Holly sat at the big dining room table with his whole family present while they went over the list of days the church was available. When they had the dates narrowed down to four, Holly called her parents to see which date worked best for them.

They settled on a Saturday night the second week in November, just two weeks away.

Holly's father insisted on paying for the flowers and the limo and the reception.

“I won't take no for an answer,” Arthur said. “Just send me the bills.”

Lena invited Holly's parents to stay with them, but when Holly extended the invitation, her father declined, saying they would rent a hotel room.

Holly breathed a sigh of relief when she disconnected the call.

“So, we're all set then?” Micah asked.

“Except for bridesmaids' dresses for the girls,” Lena said. “And something for the mother of the bride, and a tux for your dad and your brothers.”

“I guess we're not quite all set,” Micah muttered.

“What color were you thinking of for the bridesmaids?” Sofia asked. “I was thinking red.”

“Bloodred?” Micah asked dryly, and everybody laughed.

“Actually, I think red would be wonderful,” Holly said. “After all, Christmas is right around the corner.”

* * *

“Two weeks,” Micah grumbled as he crawled into bed beside Holly. They had returned to Morgan Creek late last night. His parents had wanted them to stay, but Micah had declined.

“It's not that long. If we were having a traditional wedding, with all the trimmings, it would take months to plan. You're lucky we're just having family. What's the rush, anyway?”

“I want to make you mine.”

“I'm already yours.”

“I want it in writing,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Written proof to show the world.”

Holly brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “That's very romantic.”

“Well, I'm a very romantic kind of guy.” He rained a trail of kisses along the side of her neck. “Haven't you noticed?”

“Not lately,” she teased.

“No?” With a ferocious growl, he tucked her beneath him, his clever hands, his fiery kisses, branding her his in a way a piece of paper never could.

* * *

Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, Rylan Saintcrow strolled along the deserted streets of Morgan Creek. He loved this time of the night, when the world around him lay asleep. And quiet. He had been a vampire long enough that it was now second nature to shut out the barrage of noise that had once threatened to drive him insane. Vampires tended to move silently, to speak in low tones so as not to draw unwanted attention. Humans were a noisy bunch.

He wondered how Holly was adapting to her new life. He had made few friends in his time, but he counted himself lucky to have Micah and Holly among them.

He paused, surprised to find himself nearing the cemetery. He had buried a lot of people there. But for Kadie, the number would have been a lot higher. She had reawakened the humanity within him, guilted him into freeing the men and women the vampires were preying on.

But there were times, though few and far between these days, when he just wanted to surrender to the hunger inside, to hunt some mortal and take what he wanted, to drink and drink until he was sated. But he wouldn't, because Kadie would never forgive him. And he didn't want to live without her.

Stepping through the gate, he wandered among the graves. He remembered all of the deceased, some more than others.

Saintcrow lifted his head when he caught Micah's scent. He found him standing by Shirley's marker, hands shoved into his pockets.

“What are you doing out here?” Micah asked.

Saintcrow shrugged. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I stopped by your place. Kadie said you'd gone for a walk. She said you seemed troubled about something.”

Saintcrow frowned at Micah. “You looking out for me now?”

“Do I need to?”

“No. I was just reminiscing.”

“A man as old as you are, I guess you've got a lot to remember.”

“A hell of a lot more than I want to.” Saintcrow made a gesture that encompassed the cemetery. “I've got a lot of blood on my hands.”

“Don't we all?”

Saintcrow nodded. “All but Kadie and Holly. We spared them that, you and I. Maybe that will count in our favor on the day of judgment.” He slapped Micah on the shoulder. “This is no time for morbid recollections. You're getting married.”

* * *

Micah thought about his conversation with Saintcrow while strolling back to Shirley's house. He had a lot of blood on his hands, too. Oh, not nearly as much as Saintcrow, but enough. Kadie had saved Saintcrow. Saintcrow had saved him. He had saved Holly's life. And she had saved him, he thought. Saved him from a lifetime of regret and loneliness.

“What goes around comes around,” he murmured, thinking he would be forever grateful that Holly had mistaken him for the late Joseph Burke.

But that was all in the past. Undressing, he climbed into bed beside his bride-to-be and slipped his arm around her. He'd come so close to losing her. Thirteen days to the wedding. Thirteen. Not a lucky number. Where was Braga? Micah cursed softly. The vampire was still out there, somewhere. Micah could almost feel him lurking in the distance, waiting for just the right moment to strike again. Next time they met, one of them would die.

* * *

For Holly, the next two weeks passed in a flurry of activity—at least from 5
PM
to 9. There were bridesmaids dresses to decide on, new lingerie for Holly to wear under her gown, a sheer, sexy nightgown for the wedding night. Since she couldn't sample any of the wedding cakes, Rosa and Sofia were given that task. They chose a four-tier cake, with each layer a different flavor—chocolate, strawberry, white, and carrot. Holly decided on a buffet for the reception and left the menu to Lena. Knowing that her mother felt left out, Holly asked her to select the flowers for the bridal party and for table decorations, and asked her father to choose the wine and the champagne for the bridal toast.

Micah was less busy. His only duty was to find a tux and make sure his father, his brothers, and Saintcrow coordinated with him. His brother Sergio was in charge of finding a band, Enzo in charge of renting limos for the bridal party.

To Holly's amazement, everything came together beautifully.

The night before the wedding, lying in Micah's arms, she confessed, “I never thought we'd pull it off.”

“With our mothers in charge?” he said, chuckling. “Never a doubt.”

“I love your family. They're so open and outspoken about everything. I always wanted brothers and sisters, but . . .” She blew out a sigh. “I've wondered my whole life if having me was so awful that my parents decided they didn't want any more kids.”

“Holly! I'm sure that's not true. Maybe your mother couldn't have any more.”

“Maybe. I almost worked up the nerve to ask my mom about it once, but I chickened out.”

“Well, by this time tomorrow night you'll be part of the Ravenwood clan. Try not to get lost in the crowd.”

“I love you, Micah.”

He stroked her cheek, then kissed her lightly. “I love you, too, sunshine. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

* * *

Holly came awake with a start, as she had every evening since becoming a vampire. As always, the assault on her senses was a little disconcerting. She knew that it was a little after five, that the moon was full, that it was sixty-nine degrees, that Micah was awake, his body curled around hers.

Smiling, she rolled over to face him. “Hello, groom.”

“Hello, bride.”

“We need to get up.”

“I'm already up.”

Stifling a grin, she said, “So, I see. You can stay in bed if you want. I have a lot to do before seven.” Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she headed for the bathroom. “Your mother's probably wondering where I am.”

Groaning softly, Micah let her go. The female half of the wedding party was getting ready at his parents' house; the male half was meeting at Sergio's.

Holly emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later. She grabbed the garment bag that held her dress and a small makeup case. “Don't be late,” she warned.

“Not a chance.”

“Good.” A quick kiss and she was gone.

* * *

Chaos reigned at the Ravenwood home. The house was crowded with Micah's sisters, nieces, and nephews, all talking at once.

Rosa grabbed Holly's hand. “This way. We reserved a room for you upstairs. Sofie's already up there.”

Holly followed Rosa up the stairs into one of the bedrooms. Sofia sat at a dressing table applying her makeup.

“Are you nervous?” Sofia asked, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

“Terrified,” Holly said.

“Well, you're marrying Micah,” his sister, Delia, said. “Who could blame you?”

Laughing, Holly unzipped her garment bag and carefully removed her gown. A few minutes later, her mother and Lena burst into the room. Holly thought her head might explode as the five women fluttered around her, helping her into her dress, arranging her hair, setting the veil in place. An hour and a half later, everyone was dressed and ready to go. Micah's four sisters looked lovely in their tea-length red dresses and matching heels. They wore fingertip veils and carried bouquets of red and white roses.

“Where's your maid of honor?” her mother asked.

“She's meeting us at the church.” Kadie's dress was the same as the bridesmaids', except it was floor-length.

Vivian gave her daughter's hand a squeeze. “You make a beautiful bride, Holly. I've never seen you looking so radiant.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I wish you every happiness.”

“I don't think I could be any happier.”

“I'm so glad you're going to be part of our family,” Sofie said.

“Me, too,” Holly said.

“Okay,” Lena said briskly. “If we don't leave right now, we'll be late!”

* * *

Micah stood in the middle of a circle of his brothers, enduring their juvenile jokes about married life, the whole “happy wife, happy life” speech, and warnings to remember to put the toilet seat down, to take out the trash, to beware of PMS.

Micah snorted, then frowned. Did female vampires suffer from PMS? If so, he could be in a world of hurt.

“All right, you idiots,” his father said. “It's time to go. One thing I do know is that being late to your own wedding is no way to start a marriage.”

“You speaking from experience, Dad?” Mario asked.

“Of course,” Luciano said with a broad grin. “That's how I know. Let's go.”

* * *

Saintcrow met Micah on the steps of the church.

“Where's Kadie?” Micah asked.

“She's in the bride's room with the rest of the women. You ready, bridegroom?”

Micah took a deep breath. “I wish we'd gone to Vegas.”

“I hear ya.” Saintcrow clapped him on the shoulder. “Let's get it over with.”

* * *

Micah followed his brothers and Saintcrow through the side door into the chapel, felt a rush of nervous tension as they took their places in front of the altar.

His gaze swept the room. He had expected family only, but his side of the church was crowded with old friends and neighbors. There were maybe a dozen people on the bride's side. His mother smiled at him through her tears while his sister Angela patted her on the shoulder. His nieces and nephews, all dressed in their Sunday best, wriggled in their seats.

Saintcrow nudged Micah. “This is it,” he whispered, so low no mortal ear could hear.

“Yeah.”

“Not too late to change your mind.”

“It was too late from the first time I saw her.” Micah frowned as Saintcrow went suddenly still. “What's wrong?”

“Do you smell that?”

Micah lifted his head, nostrils flaring. It was hard to smell anything but flowers and perfume. He opened his preternatural senses.... Braga. He'd know that stink anywhere. “You don't think he'd . . .” Micah's voice trailed off as the organ began to play the wedding march.

When Holly and her father appeared in the doorway, he forgot all about Leandro Braga. Never, in all his life, had he seen anything as beautiful as the woman who would soon be his wife. Cheeks flushed, her golden hair framing her face, she was a vision to behold, an angel clad in silk and sunshine. A veil as delicate as a spider's web trailed behind her.

He couldn't stop looking at her, couldn't believe she was really here. Really his.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

“Her mother and I do.” Arthur spoke clearly as he placed his daughter's hand in Micah's.

Micah was hardly aware of the priest's words until he said, “Repeat after me. I, Micah, take thee, Holly, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, so long as we both shall live.”

Taking both of Holly's hands in his, Micah repeated the words.

Holly gazed deep into Micah's eyes as she repeated the words that made her his wife, thinking that her marriage was every bit as life-altering as becoming a vampire. She was bound to him now, not only by blood, but by the vows they had exchanged.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest said solemnly. “You may kiss the bride.”