Twilight Dreams (9 page)

“Why not?”

“Sooner or later, they're bound to notice I'm not getting any older.”

“Oh, right. I hadn't thought about that. But that's all the more reason to tell them the truth.”

“You could be right. But I've got a big family. A secret like this is hard to keep. All it takes is one of my nieces or nephews letting it slip to one of their friends, or a teacher, that their uncle is a vampire.”

“I doubt if anyone would believe it.”

“At the moment, it's not a risk I'm willing to take.”

Holly looked pensive a moment, then asked, “What about the blood?”

“What about it?”

“How can you . . . ?” She shuddered.

“I can't survive without it,” he said flatly. “It's as simple as that. I've tried, believe me, but not feeding . . . it's not worth the pain.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Why did you pick this house?”

“What?”

“This house. Why did you choose this one?”

“I liked the colors inside, the furniture. It probably sounds silly, but it just felt right. Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

He shook his head, wondering if he should he tell her this had been Shirley's place.

“Micah?”

“You remember the woman I told you about? Shirley?”

“Yes. Oh, no! This is her house, isn't it?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll look for another one tomorrow.”

“No, it's okay. You're all settled in. Besides, it suits you.”

Holly shook her head, then sighed. “Sometimes you seem so normal,” she murmured, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “I didn't mean that the way it sounded.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Normal, huh?”

“I just meant that if I didn't know what you are . . .” She waved her hand in a vague gesture of dismissal. “Just forget what I said.”

“Don't worry about it, sunshine. Do you need anything?”

“No.” She shivered as a gust of wind blew down out of the mountains.

“You're cold,” he said. “You should go inside.”

“I guess the cold doesn't bother you.”

“No. Hot or cold, it's all the same to me.” Pushing away from the railing, he shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Call me if there's anything you need.”

She nodded, then bit down on her lip as he started down the stairs. “Micah, wait.”

Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“I don't want to be alone.” She didn't want to admit that Morgan Creek made her uneasy. She had never been afraid of the dark, but this town spooked her. It was so quiet, and kind of eerie tonight, with the moon peeking through the clouds, as if it were spying on her.

“There's nothing to be afraid of,” he said, reading her thoughts. “No one here will hurt you.” No one alive, anyway, he thought, recalling that Saintcrow had told him Kadie believed there were ghosts in the graveyard. He'd never seen one, but it wouldn't surprise him if one showed up. Lots of people had died here, not all of them peacefully.

“Please stay.”

“I can't spend the day here,” he said. “But I'll stay until the sun comes up.”

“Thank you.” Hoping she wasn't making a huge mistake, Holly hurried into the house; then, remembering he couldn't follow unless invited, she said, “Micah, please come in.”

She felt the oddest sensation as he stepped over the threshold. It was a feeling she couldn't explain, an odd vibration in the air that whispered over her skin and raised goose bumps on her arms.

When she shivered this time, it had nothing to do with the cold.

Chapter Eleven

Holly slept late. When she woke, she lay there for a while, thinking about last night's conversation with Micah. What would it be like, to be turned into a vampire against your will and left with no one to guide you, no one to tell you what to expect? She couldn't imagine the horror a newly-turned vampire must feel as she slowly realized that the life she knew—the future she had planned—was gone, with no hope of ever getting it back.

What would have happened to Micah if Saintcrow hadn't come along to teach him what he needed to know? It must have been scary as hell, at least in the beginning, not knowing exactly what he had become or what to do. How awful, not to be able to tell his family the truth, to have to tell one lie after another to keep those he loved the most from learning what he had become.

Like he'd said, sooner or later, there would come a time when he wouldn't be able to go home at all, because his family would grow old and he would always look the way he did now.

When she was eighty—should she live so long—he would still look the way he did today—handsome, virile. Young.

Shaking off her dismal thoughts, she went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Three weeks wasn't a terribly long time, but it suddenly seemed like an eternity.

* * *

Micah knocked on her door shortly after the sun went down. After a day spent alone with her own thoughts, Holly was delighted to see him.

“You busy?” he asked.

She arched one brow. “Busy dying slowly of boredom.”

“Yeah, I figured that, so I came to spring you for a few hours.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's my mother's birthday. If we leave now, we'll get there right on time.”

“What about Braga?”

“She doesn't know where my folks live, or where we are. We should be safe enough for an hour or two.”

“What about Saintcrow?”

“I already told him we were going. He's going to meet us at the bridge to lower the wards. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to leave.”

It took less than a heartbeat to make up her mind. “Just let me change my clothes.”

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Saintcrow glanced at Micah and Holly, who stood side by side near the end of the bridge.

“We won't be gone long,” Micah assured him. “An hour or two, three at the most.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.” Micah put his arm around Holly's waist. “You ready?”

Holly nodded. She had only a fuzzy memory of the journey from her house to Morgan Creek. As before, she felt a sudden dizziness, a sense of moving swiftly through a long, dark tunnel. When the world righted itself, they were standing in front of a florist shop. Micah bought two dozen long-stemmed red roses. He held the flowers in one hand, wrapped his arm around her waist, and the next thing she knew, they were standing on the sidewalk in front of a large, two-story house located between a ranch-style house that was for sale and a vacant lot.

“Home sweet home,” Micah murmured, and Holly didn't miss the wistful note in his voice. Light blazed from every window. Music and laughter spilled through the open front door.

“Dammit,” he muttered, “they haven't eaten yet.”

“What are you going to do?”

He shook his head ruefully. “Mass hypnosis,” he muttered. “Come on.”

Mass hypnosis?
On his own family? Was he kidding?

Taking her by the hand, Micah led her up the stairs to the veranda. “If anyone asks how we got here, we flew. By plane,” he clarified. “And we have to leave by ten to catch a flight back because I've got an early call in the morning. Got it?”

“Got it.”

There was chaos the minute Micah stepped into the foyer. Everyone—men, women, and children—ran to greet him, all talking at once as they smothered him with hugs, kisses, and questions.

Afraid of being trampled in the rush, Holly stayed out of the way.

“Mikey!” A tiny woman with short, thick black hair hurried in from the kitchen, her face wreathed in smiles, her sparkling brown eyes shining with tears. “You came!”

The crowd in front of Micah parted like the Red Sea.

Micah passed the bouquet to Holly, then swept the woman into his arms. “I couldn't miss your birthday, Ma.”

She hugged him fiercely. “Can you stay?”

“Just for a few hours. I have to be on the set early in the morning.”

“You're here now,” she said, wiping her eyes with the hem of her apron. “That's all that matters. Come, we were just about to eat.” She paused when she saw Holly standing off in a corner. “Who's this lovely lady?”

“Ma, this is Holly Parrish. Holly, my mother, Lena.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Ravenwood,” Holly said. “Happy birthday.”

Lena shook her finger at her son. “You didn't tell me you had a girl!”

Murmurs and speculation ran through the crowd. A couple of men punched Micah on the arm. Others winked at him.

Ignoring them, Micah said, “She's just a friend, Ma. Here,” he said, taking the flowers from Holly. “Happy birthday.”

Lena beamed at her son as she accepted the bouquet. “Come, you two. Dinner is ready. Let's eat.”

Holly was amazed by the size of the Ravenwoods' kitchen and the adjoining dining room. Both were huge, but judging from the size of the crowd in the house, they needed the space to accommodate their nine children, and their assorted spouses and kids. In the dining room, two long trestle tables, covered with white damask cloths, were set with gleaming silverware and candles. Two large, round tables had been set up in the kitchen for the kids.

Lena found a beautiful crystal vase for the flowers.

When everyone was seated, Micah introduced Holly to his family, but she forgot most of their names as soon as she heard them. All except for his youngest sister, Sofia. Dressed in ubiquitous black, her dark eyes lined in kohl, she looked like a crow in a field of wildflowers, albeit a beautiful one.

Following Holly's gaze, Micah said, “She's into the whole vampire-goth scene. My folks are hoping she'll outgrow it.”

Holly nodded, thinking she had never seen a more beautiful family in her life. They could have all been movie stars, from Micah's father, Luciano, to his youngest niece, Maiya.

Holly had expected to be bombarded with questions about herself and her relationship with Micah, and while there were numerous inquiries, none were too personal.

Holly answered their questions, marveling at the amount of food it took to feed such a large crowd. There were three kinds of pasta, two kinds of sauce, loaves of homemade bread, salads, and several kinds of wine. She had never been surrounded by such a large, exuberant family, or felt such an abundance of love. No wonder Micah was homesick.

After dinner, the children and grandchildren sang happy birthday to Lena, and then they all trooped into the living room to watch her open her presents.

Of course, there was cake—the biggest birthday cake Holly had ever seen—along with four kinds of ice cream, including spumoni. Micah's favorite, Lena told Holly with a wistful smile.

Later, after Micah's married siblings and their kids had said their good-byes and his two single sisters had gone off with their dates, Holly and Micah relaxed in the living room with his parents.

“So, Holly, how long have you and Micah known each other?” Lena asked.

“We just met a few days ago,” Holly replied.

Lena glanced from Holly to Micah and back again. “You're the first girl he's ever brought home to meet us,” she remarked, smiling. “Can I hope . . . ?”

“Ma, you're embarrassing her,” Micah said.

“Pshaw, no reason to be embarrassed. It's past time you settled down. You can't blame a mother for wanting to see all of her children happily married.”

“Ma . . .”

Holly grinned, amused by Micah's discomfort. It was obvious this was a topic that had been discussed before—and often.

“Will we be seeing you on the big screen soon?” his father asked.

“I'm afraid not,” Micah replied. “They scrapped the film I was working on. I'm not sure why. So, it's back to square one.”

“You'll make it,” his mother said, a note of pride in her voice.

When Lena went into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee, Micah's father slipped him a hundred-dollar bill.

Micah shook his head. “Dad, I don't need this.”

Luciano snorted. “Right. Don't tell your mama.”

Looking somewhat sheepish, Micah slipped the bill into his pocket.

It was a few minutes before ten when Micah stood. “I've got to go, Ma. Happy birthday.”

“Your being here was the best gift of all.”

Taking her in his arms, he hugged her tight. “I love you, too.”

“Don't stay away so long next time,” his father said, giving him an affectionate slap on the shoulder. “You know how your mama misses you.”

“And bring Holly with you when you come back,” Lena said, squeezing Holly's hand.

* * *

“You have a wonderful family,” Holly remarked as they walked away from the house.

“Yeah.”

“How did you do it?” she asked. “Make them all believe you were eating when you only drank the wine?”

“I don't know how to explain it. It's just one of the many perks of being Undead.”

Holly didn't miss the faint note of bitterness in his voice. She had expected him to magically transport them back to Morgan Creek. Instead, hands shoved deep in his pockets, he strolled down the street.

“Where are we going?” she asked, looking around.

He shrugged. “Nowhere. I just feel like taking a walk. You mind?”

“Is it safe?”

“Don't worry about Braga. I'll pick up her scent long before she appears. Besides, the odds of her being here are pretty slim.”

Holly nodded, hoping he was right. “I've never been to Arizona before.”

“It's a nice place, if you don't mind the heat.”

“Probably not a lot of vampires here,” she said, thinking about the long, hot sunny days.

“None that I know of, although I'm sure there are probably a few.”

“Alaska seems like the place to go,” Holly said. “Aren't they supposed to have a lot of long nights there during the winter?”

“So they say.”

They walked in silence for a short time. It was a nice, upscale neighborhood. The yards were well-tended, the houses in good repair. Dogs barked at them as they passed by; a few growled deep in their throats.

“It's because of me,” Micah said as yet another dog growled. “Animals have a keen sense of smell. They know I'm different.”

“All animals?”

“I don't know about all of them. But dogs and cats don't like me.”

Holly pondered that as they crossed the street. No pets for vampires. It was kind of sad, actually.

Her breath caught in her throat when Micah took her hand in his. She felt him tense a little, perhaps waiting to see if she would pull away. When she didn't, he stopped walking and drew her slowly into his arms.

She gazed up at him, caught in the web of his stare, her heart beating wildly.
Vampire.

“Holly . . .” Her scent surrounded him, seeping into his pores, filling his senses, spiking his desire. And his thirst. He glanced at the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat. “You're driving me crazy.”

“Micah . . .” She shook her head as his arms tightened around her. Imprisoning her like iron bars. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, his voice husky with need.

His power enveloped her, raw, primal. Exhilarating. Frightening. “Don't hurt me.”

“Never. Just a taste, Holly.”

“And if I refuse? Will you take it anyway?”

He took a deep breath. “No.”

Torn by indecision, she worried her lower lip. What would it feel like, to let him bite her, to know he was drinking her blood? What if he didn't stop? Maybe she was crazy, but morbid curiosity trumped her good sense. “Promise you'll only take a little?”

“I promise.”

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “Do it.”

She tensed when his tongue laved her neck, just below her ear.

He murmured, “Relax, sweetheart,” and then she felt the scrape of his fangs at her throat. She had expected it to hurt, maybe like getting a flu shot. She closed her eyes, the tension draining out of her, as a delicious warmth spread through her, followed by a wave of sensual pleasure.

It was over all too quickly.

Holly opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her.

“Didn't I say you'd like it?”

She blinked at him, pursed her lips to keep from asking him to bite her again.

Micah cocked his head to the side. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. Lord have mercy! If people knew how amazing being bitten could be, they would be lining up in droves for the privilege.

“In droves?” Micah laughed softly. “Seriously?”

Holly glared at him. “Stop reading my mind! It isn't polite.”

He laughed harder, then wrapped her in his arms again.

The next thing she knew, they were standing on the roadway that fronted the bridge. Saintcrow materialized almost immediately to lower the wards.

“Looks like the two of you had a good time,” Saintcrow remarked. “Any sign of Braga?”

“No.”

Frowning, Saintcrow regarded Holly for a moment, then shot a glance at Micah, one brow arched.