Twilight Dreams (6 page)

“So, do you have questions?” he asked.

“Thousands,” Holly muttered irritably.

“Ask away.”

“Is it true—all the things the books and movies say? You drink . . . blood? And don't age? And you can't go out in the sun? Or have children?”

He nodded. “And a wooden stake in my heart will kill me, in case you were wondering.”

“And you can read my mind.” It wasn't a question.

“Yeah.”

“Do you sleep in a . . . ?” She couldn't say the word. It was just too gross to even think about.

“No, I don't sleep in a coffin. Just a bed.”

Her relief was almost palpable.

Suddenly filled with restless energy, Micah paced the floor in front of the hearth.

Holly watched him a moment. How had she dated him, kissed him, and never realized what he was? It seemed obvious now. The way he moved, as if he weren't tethered to the earth the way she was, the ever-present hunger lurking in his eyes. She had foolishly thought it was desire; she knew now it was a yearning for blood. Her blood.

Suddenly uncomfortable at the silence between them, she blurted, “Kadie and Saintcrow seem . . . happy.”

“No reason why they shouldn't be. They're very much in love.”

Vampires in love? That was a whole new concept. What kind of life did they have? What was the point of living forever if you couldn't have a family? How did they fill their nights when they had no purpose in life other than to feed? “Have you ever been in love?”

Micah snorted. “You just learned vampires are real and you're asking about my love life?”

“Have you? Been in love?”

“Just once,” he said quietly. He paused in front of the hearth, one hand braced against the mantel. “Her name was Shirley.” The memory of losing her knifed through him again, as fresh as if it had just happened. “She passed away a year ago.”

“Did you . . . ?”

Micah didn't have to read her mind to know what she was asking. “Yes, I drank from her. And no, I didn't kill her.” He spoke sharply, aggravated that she would even think such a thing. “What about you?” he asked, turning the tables on her. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Not really.” Her gaze slid away from his. She had been falling in love with him, Holly thought. Thank goodness she had learned the truth before it was too late. Still, he seemed nice enough. For a vampire. But she didn't trust him. And she still wanted to go home.

Vampire . . .
She gave herself a mental shake. In spite of all he had told her, all she had seen with her own eyes, it just didn't seem possible such creatures actually existed.

“Creatures? Really?”

She blushed from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. She had to remember he could read her thoughts. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

“As long as necessary.”

“Are you going to . . .” She lifted one hand to her throat. “Bite me?”

“I already did, sunshine. I already did.”

And with that bit of disturbing news, he vanished from her sight.

* * *

Micah stood in the shadows outside the house. His annoyance at Holly for thinking he had killed Shirley, combined with his resentment at Shirley for not letting him bring her across, filled him with impotent anger. And that anger, like so many strong emotions, sparked his hunger. He envied Saintcrow. The man was a rock, able to control his hunger and his emotions, to come and go as he pleased day or night, to spend eternity with the woman he loved. Dammit, it wasn't fair!

A thought took him to the nearest town. He prowled the night, searching for prey, but it was Holly who dominated his thoughts. The fact that he was drawn to her only made matters worse. He didn't want to care for her. He had vowed if he fell in love again it would be with a vampire, someone who would understand him, someone to share the next couple of hundred years with, but he was afraid it was too late for that. Like it or not, he couldn't get Holly Parrish out of his mind. He wanted her, for a lifetime or an eternity, it didn't matter.

He wanted her.

And he would have her.

One way or another.

* * *

He had bitten her. The thought made Holly sick to her stomach, and she thrust it aside. She tried to push all thoughts of Micah from her mind, as well, but it was impossible. Why, of all the men in the world, did Micah have to be a vampire? Sure, she hardly knew him, but she had been attracted to him from the night they'd met. She had been so certain that he was different from other men. Well, she had been dead right about that, she thought dryly. She just hadn't known how different!

Tomorrow, when he was sleeping in his coffin—
no, his bed
, she amended—she was leaving this place. There had to be a road nearby. Sooner or later, roads led to freeways, and freeways led to towns. She would hitchhike if she had to. Maybe she would get lucky and a nice, fatherly cop would pick her up and make sure she got safely home.

She wondered where Micah had gone, then decided she didn't want to know. There were times when ignorance was bliss, and she was certain this was one of those times.

Moving to the window, she stared into the darkness. What was it like, to drink blood to survive? She couldn't even begin to imagine it. It was one thing to lick your own blood from a paper cut, another entirely to drink it—drink it!—from a stranger. How much had he taken? A tablespoon? A cup? A pint? She shuddered. More?

She lifted a hand to her neck. When had he bitten her? And why couldn't she remember? It seemed impossible that she could forget something so horrendous.

She added that to the list of things she didn't want to think about, afraid she might go a little crazy if she let herself dwell on it.

What was it like for Micah from day to day—or rather, night to night? Did he miss the warmth of the sun on his face? Vampires were supposed to live for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. What did they do for excitement when they had seen everything, done everything? Did they ever get tired of existing on a warm, liquid diet?

She frowned. Micah had eaten lobster and rice when they went out to dinner together. How was that possible?

Had he wanted to be a vampire? Had it happened the way it did in movies? Vamp drinks from human. Human drinks from vamp, and
voila!
A new vampire is created.

She pressed a hand to her forehead. Just thinking about it gave her a headache.

Stretching out on the sofa, she tried to force all thoughts of vampires from her mind, but, of course, that was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she envisioned Micah bending over some poor, unfortunate soul, or worse, sinking his fangs into her own throat.

She tossed and turned for hours until, at last, she tumbled into a restless sleep.

* * *

The sun shining through the front window roused Holly. Remembering her decision to leave here while Micah slept, Holly bolted upright. Rising, she straightened her clothes as best she could, grabbed an apple from the ice chest in the kitchen, and ran out of the house.

Walking briskly, she left the house on the hill behind. Last night, it had seemed as if the other houses were miles away, but as she neared the residences now, she realized they were much closer than she'd thought.

Micah had told her Morgan Creek was a ghost town. It certainly felt that way, even though the homes she passed looked well-tended.

More buildings loomed ahead. Drawing closer, she saw a grocery store, a library, a restaurant. All closed up tight.

Farther down the street, she noticed a movie theater and a gas station. What had happened to the people who lived here? Had Micah and Saintcrow killed them all and taken over the town? Maybe there really were ghosts here. That would explain the sudden chill that swept over her as she hurried down the deserted street.

Her steps quickened when she saw the bridge up ahead and the road beyond. With any luck at all, she would find a ride into the nearest town and be home by tomorrow.

Chapter Nine

Grumbling under his breath, Saintcrow rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, a hooded jacket, and sunglasses, and left the house. A thought took him into the town proper. Eyes narrowed against the light and heat of the sun, he spotted Micah's woman running toward the far end of the bridge, frantically waving her arms in hopes of flagging down a passing car.

He didn't waste time trying to reason with her—simply wrapped his arms around her and willed the two of them into Blair House.

As soon as he released her, she ran for the front door, a cry of dismay erupting from her throat when the door refused to open. Like a doe trapped by a mountain lion, she whirled around to stare at him, her heart pounding like a trip hammer, her eyes wide with fright.

“Where the hell did you think you were going?” Saintcrow removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his jacket pocket.

“Home.”

“Didn't Ravenwood tell you that was a bad idea?”

She nodded. She was visibly trembling now, her face pale.

Saintcrow blew out a breath, annoyed by her fear. Not that he could blame her. He was a very old vampire. Even humans who didn't recognize him for what he was sensed his preternatural power and strength. “Relax,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Then let me go.”

“Lady, you can't be that dumb. I know Micah told you about Braga. She's a dangerous, vengeful creature who wouldn't think twice about draining you dry and tossing your corpse into a ditch. If you go back home and she gets your scent, you're as good as dead.”

She glared at him, arms akimbo. “What if I don't believe you?”

“Why would I lie?”

Holly couldn't think of a logical reason, but that didn't mean he was telling the truth. “How can you be awake? It's daytime.”

“I've been a vampire a very long time. I can be awake during the day as long as I don't spend too much time in the sun. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed. We'll talk later.”

And with those ominous parting words, he vanished from her sight.

Holly stared at the place where he had been standing. How had he done that? And how had he known she was at the bridge?

She looked at the door. Curious, she tried to open it again. The handle turned, but the door remained closed. She tried the windows and the back door with the same results.

With her mind still reeling from her conversation with Saintcrow, she returned to the living room and sank down on the sofa. She hadn't believed Micah when he told her that her life was in danger if she went home, but in spite of her words to the contrary, when Saintcrow said her life was in danger, she believed every word.

How strange was that?

* * *

Micah rose with the setting of the sun. He would have preferred to take his rest upstairs, in one of the bedrooms, but he didn't feel comfortable doing so with Holly in the house, so he slept in the basement with the heavy iron door bolted from the inside. Not that he was afraid she would try to destroy him—although that was always a possibility. It was more that he didn't want her to see him when he was trapped in the dark sleep, helpless, vulnerable. He had never seen a vampire at rest, had no idea what he, himself, looked like.

He still found it unsettling, sinking into that deathlike oblivion. No dreams, no tossing and turning. He grunted softly. No trouble falling asleep. Once the sun went down and he closed his eyes, it was, indeed, like death. If he lived long enough, he would be able to be active during the day, but that was decades—maybe centuries—down the road.

He dressed quickly, ran a comb through his hair. As soon as he opened the basement door, he knew Saintcrow had been in the house.

What he didn't know was why.

Racing up the stairs, he found Holly in the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. His gaze moved over her, lingering on the curve of her neck. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Why wouldn't I be? There's no one else here.”

Micah frowned. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“What did Saintcrow want?”

“How do you know he was here?”

“I can smell him. What happened?”

Holly leaned back against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. “I left.”

“Left?” Micah raised one brow. “What do you mean, you left? Where did you go?”

“I was going home. I would have made it, too, if Saintcrow hadn't grabbed me and brought me back here.”

“Why would you do that? I told you it wasn't safe for you to leave.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice rising as anger and frustration replaced her fear. “Why? Maybe I don't want to be here! Maybe I don't like being held prisoner by vampires! Maybe I'm scared out of my mind because some psycho vampire who doesn't even know me wants to kill me!”

“All good reasons,” Micah allowed with a grin. “Although, if you ask me, that last one seems like reason enough to stay.”

“It's not funny, damn you!”

“You're right—it's not funny. It's serious as hell.”

“What is this place? What kind of town has businesses and houses but no people?”

“A very strange town.” Micah jerked his head toward the living room. “Let's go sit down and I'll tell you what I know.”

Holly hesitated a moment, then went into the front room and sat on one of the sofas, her hands tightly folded in her lap.

Micah took a place on the other couch. “Years ago, and I don't know how many years exactly, this town was inhabited by a coven of vampires. Saintcrow was their leader. He put some sort of supernatural whammy on the bridge that also extended to the mountains that surround the town, so that anyone who wandered into Morgan Creek was unable to leave. The vampires provided the people with food and shelter, books and movies . . .” He paused, wondering how to explain the rest without making Saintcrow and the others sound like monsters, only to realize it was impossible.

“What happened to the people?”

“Not what you're thinking, exactly, but . . . the vampires preyed on the men and women who lived here. The vamps weren't allowed to hurt anyone. Or kill them,” he added quickly. Although that had happed from time to time. “But they did drink from them.”

Holly's eyes widened in horror. “They kept people here to feed on? Like cattle? That's disgusting! It's . . . it's . . .” She shook her head. “How could you do that? What about children?”

“Hey, I wasn't even here then. This was all set in motion long before I met Saintcrow. And as far as I know, they never kept any children here.”

“As far as you know.” She shook her head. “He's a monster.”

“I don't know about that.”

She stared at him, aghast. “You think what he did was right? Is that what you intend to do with me? Keep me here like your own private stock?”

“Of course not!”

“So, where are all those people now?”

“Kadie convinced Saintcrow to let all of them go.”

“For someone who says he wasn't here, you seem to know an awful lot about what went on.”

Micah nodded. “Three of the women who lived here decided to stay when the others left. I fell in love with one of them. I told you about her.”

Holly nodded. “I just don't understand what any of that has to do with the woman who's after you?”

“There's no connection that I know of. It was just bad timing that Braga and I crossed paths. I don't know how she put it together that Saintcrow and I know each other. All I know is Saintcrow told me she's dangerous, and so is the man she travels with.”

“So,” Holly murmured, “if I'd never met you, my life wouldn't be in danger, and I wouldn't be here now.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Talk about bad luck.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way.”

“How else would you expect me to feel?”

“I'm trying to help you, sunshine, whether you believe it or not. If you want to leave, leave.”

Holly chewed on her thumbnail. If everything he had said was true, going home would be foolhardy, perhaps fatal. “How did Saintcrow know I was at the bridge? I left in the morning, when your kind is supposed to be dead to the world—you should pardon the pun.”

Micah shook his head. “He has incredible power. I don't know how he does it, but he knows everything that goes on in this town. It's like he's got some kind of physical connection to the place.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful.

Micah sat back, hands resting on his thighs, watching her, reading her thoughts. Some of her fear had evaporated, replaced by what she considered morbid curiosity about the history of Morgan Creek and the vampires who had lived here, preying on those who'd had the misfortune to stumble into the town. Kept like rats in a trap, was the way she viewed it.

She wasn't far wrong, he thought. Still, from the vampire point of view, he could understand why Saintcrow had done it. Fifty years ago, vampire hunters had stalked their kind relentlessly. It must have seemed like a stroke of genius, taking over a ghost town, warding it so no one who entered could leave, thereby assuring that the town's location and inhabitants were kept secret from the rest of the world.

From a human standpoint, it was despicable. But if Micah had learned one thing in his short time as a vampire, it was that humans and vampires didn't live by the same codes of conduct.

Holly blew out a sigh. “I don't know what to do.” Closing her eyes, she massaged her temples.

Micah watched her a moment; then, moving behind the sofa, he began to rub her back and shoulders. She started at his touch, then relaxed, her head falling forward, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips.

“This is all so unreal,” she muttered. “No one will ever believe it.”

No one would ever know, Micah thought as he kneaded the tension from her neck. If she decided to leave, he would wipe all memory of himself, Saintcrow, Kadie, and Morgan Creek from Holly's mind. It was a handy talent, one he had used often on those he preyed upon.

All things considered, he couldn't help thinking that would probably be the best course of action for all concerned. Except . . . he wasn't ready to see the last of Holly Parrish. And wiping her memory wouldn't keep her safe. Ignorance might be bliss, but it wouldn't protect her from Braga.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked.

“I guess that depends on you.”

Holly didn't pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. Even now, knowing what he was, she couldn't deny the attraction that hummed between them like the sizzle in the air before a storm. She had tried to ignore it, told herself it wasn't real, but to no avail. It intrigued her, tempted her, even as it frightened her.

She folded her arms over her chest. “What if I still want to go home?”

“If you're determined to leave in spite of everything, then I'll take you back.” Saintcrow might have been able to justify keeping people against their will, but Micah couldn't do it. He wasn't Holly's keeper or her jailer. She was a big girl, old enough to make her own decisions, no matter how stupid they were.

She leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “Do you mean it?”

He nodded. He didn't tell her he would erase her memory before he released her.

Decisions, decisions, Holly thought, settling back on the sofa. Now that Micah had agreed to take her home if that was what she wanted, she hesitated. Did she really want to go home and take a chance on facing a vindictive vampire? Or stay in Morgan Creek with an attractive one until the danger was past?

In the end, there was really only one decision that made any sense. “As much as I hate to admit it, I guess staying here
is
the smart thing to do. But you promise you'll take me home when that other vampire is no longer a threat?”

He nodded again.

“All right,” she murmured. “I'll stay. Oh, wait! I can't. I have a job! My boss expects me to be at work tomorrow. I have an appointment with a new client at ten, and I'm supposed to interview a new secretary for one of the partners, and . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Can't you take some time off?” Micah asked.

“My vacation starts next week.”

“All right, here's what we'll do. I'll take you home late tonight. You go to work in the morning. Tell your boss something's come up and you need to take your vacation a little early. Don't go out for lunch. Work overtime if you have to, but don't leave the building until I get there. You should be safe as long as you're surrounded by people. When the sun goes down, I'll bring you back here.”

“Can the Braga woman go out during the day?”

“I don't think so. But her bodyguard, Mahlon, can, and I don't want to mess with him. Even Saintcrow's afraid of him.”

If that was true, Mahlon must be scary indeed. “Are you sure all this is necessary?”

“It's
your
life.”

When he put it like that, there was nothing else to say.

* * *

As promised, Micah took Holly home that night. He sat on the sofa, watching an old Steve McQueen movie, while she went into her room. He heard the water come on, detected the scents of soap and shampoo as she showered and washed her hair. Soon after, he heard the sound of a blow-dryer. Fifteen minutes later, she stepped into the living room clad in flowered PJs and a light blue robe.

After a moment's hesitation, she joined him on the sofa. He noted she left as much room as possible between them.