They were having such a fair when the knights came to town, but Kadie had eyes only for the one who rode in the front. Head high, shoulders back, he sat his charger like a king. She had never seen anything more beautiful.
When he deigned to look her way, her whole body tingled with excitement. As unobtrusively as possible, she followed him to the lists, stood in the shadows as he prepared to challenge the local champion.
With her hand pressed to her heart, she watched the knights ride toward each other, heard the harsh echo of lance against armor, gasped as their champion tumbled to the ground, rolling over and over.
Saintcrow reined his prancing charger to a stop beside the body. He dismounted in a fluid move, something that should have been impossible for a man encumbered by armor.
Tossing his helmet aside, he strode toward the fallen knight and knelt beside him.
He cried, “To the victor belong the spoils!” then buried his fangs in the defeated knight’s throat.
She tried to look away, tried to run away, but she stood rooted to the spot, her mouth opening in a silent scream when he lifted his head and she saw his eyes . . . as red as the blood that stained his lips . . .
Screaming, “No!” Kadie bolted upright, her heart hammering, her body bathed in sweat. “Only a dream,” she gasped. “Only a dream.”
She was reaching for the light beside her bed when a dark shadow disengaged itself from the corner.
“Who’s there?” She wanted to sound brave and bold; the quaver in her voice proved she was anything but.
“It’s me.”
Kadie’s breath whooshed out of her at the sound of his voice. How was it possible to be relieved and frightened at the same time? “What are you doing in here?”
“It’s my house.”
“It’s my room. Don’t I have a right to privacy?”
“Not with me.”
She switched on the light, shrank back when she saw him looming over her. “What do you want?”
“A midnight snack?”
Her hand flew to her neck in an unconscious gesture of protection. He was going to drink from her again. She wanted to protest, to rail against such a personal invasion, but how could she when she remembered all too clearly how much she had enjoyed it the last time?
Even as she tried to summon words of complaint, she couldn’t deny that she was eager to be in his arms again, to experience that wondrous sensual pleasure she had known before.
And he knew it, damn him.
He was smiling when he sat beside her. One arm slid around her waist, drawing her up against him. Her cheek rested on his chest—his bare chest. Only then did she realize he was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that rode low on his hips.
He stroked her hair and she marveled that his hands—so large and strong—could be so gentle, that the touch of a man who wasn’t really a man could arouse her so quickly.
Placing his knuckles under her chin, he raised her head, his gaze meeting hers. “I want you.”
His voice was low, but she had no trouble hearing him. Or knowing that he wanted more than just her blood.
He smiled at her again and she felt her heart slam against her ribs. It would be so much easier to resist him if he wasn’t so outrageously handsome! If she had wanted to hire someone to pose for her ideal man, Rylan Saintcrow would have been the perfect model, from his long, black hair and deep ebony eyes to his strong jaw line. She had always been drawn to tall men with broad shoulders and well-developed arms, and Saintcrow fit that description to a T.
“Kadie?”
“Are you asking my permission to . . . to . . . ravish me?”
“Would you rather I forced you?”
She bit down on her lower lip.
“You would have a clear conscience then, wouldn’t you?” he asked with a knowing grin.
“I hate you,” she said between clenched teeth. “I really hate you.”
He laughed softly. “Sure you do.” He ran one finger down her cheek. “I’ll take your blood when it pleases me. I am, after all, a vampire. I need it to survive.” His gaze moved over her, his eyes smoky with desire. “But I won’t bed you against your will. When I take you to my bed, the decision will be yours. I’m not a rapist. Not now, not during the Crusades.”
Kadie couldn’t help noticing he’d said
when,
not
if
.
He lowered his head ever so slowly, giving her ample time to avoid his kiss.
Undecided, she met his gaze. Surrender or not? His breath was warm on her face when she turned her head to the side, denying him her lips but giving him access to her neck.
Moments later, she felt the brush of his fangs at her throat. And wished, fleetingly, that she had taken him to her bed.
Chapter 10
Vaughan’s gaze moved over the other vampires seated at the table in the back of the tavern. The vampires didn’t socialize very often. Even here, in Morgan Creek, they tended to be solitary creatures, suspicious of one another.
Nolan Browning had resided here for almost fifty years, longer than any of them except Saintcrow. Quinn and Felix were relative newcomers, having only lived here for the last thirty-five and forty years, respectively, while Wes Lonigan was their newest resident; he’d arrived less than thirty years ago. And then there was Lilith, the lone female in their group. She was a short, skinny creature, with straight brown hair, pale gray eyes, and the demeanor of a shrew. No one liked her. He’d often wondered why Saintcrow allowed her to stay. She’d been here almost as long as Browning. Only Kiel was missing.
“He’ll give the new female to us sooner or later,” Trent Lambert remarked with a shrug. “He always does.”
Vaughan scowled at Trent. Lambert had long ago resigned himself to the way things were. He had a safe lair and a variety of prey and he was content.
“You can’t blame Saintcrow for not sharing,” Felix said. “After all, he hasn’t had a woman in thirty years.”
“What’s the big deal, Vaughan?” Wes Lonigan asked. “This new female’s no different from all the rest.”
“She was mine,” Vaughan said, slamming his fist on the table. “I saw her first. He had no right. . . .”
“He has every right,” Browning said, his voice flat. “This is
his
town. We’re here on
his
sufferance.”
“Am I the only one who misses hunting?” Vaughan asked, his voice rising with his temper. “Sure, the women here are sweet, but where’s the excitement? The challenge? It’s been so long since I hunted, I think I’ve forgotten how.”
Quinn nodded, his long blond hair falling over his forehead. “I hear ya.”
“He took her out tonight,” Vaughan said. “Did you know that? We can’t leave here, but he took her out.”
Vaughan’s revelation gave rise to several disgruntled murmurs.
“If he can go out, why can’t we?” Felix asked.
“You’re forgetting that out there,
we’re
the hunted,” Browning reminded them. “We’re here because we wanted to be here. Saintcrow didn’t drag us here kicking and screaming. We all thought it was a good idea, remember? With hunters crawling out of the woodwork, there are damn few safe havens left. We’re lucky to have this one. Saintcrow’s one of the few master vampires this side of the Mississippi.”
“Right,” Gil said, nodding. “And if he wants that new female, so what? Without his protection, where would we be?”
“Anywhere but here,” Felix mumbled.
“We’re living like frightened sheep instead of wolves!” Vaughan exclaimed.
“You’re right,” Lilith said, speaking up for the first time. “We are living like sheep. And I’m damn sick of it.”
Trent and Felix looked at each other, then nodded in agreement.
“So,” Vaughan said, his eyes showing red, “what are we going to do about it?”
Chapter 12
Kadie woke with a raging thirst. Flinging the covers aside, she hurried down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then drank two glasses of water.
Why was she so thirsty?
Of course, she thought with morbid humor, lifting a hand to her throat, she was a quart low. She was exaggerating, she hoped, but she was certain Saintcrow was the cause of her unusual thirst.
She knew now why the other women didn’t complain about the vampires feeding on them. It was an amazing sensation. Sensual when it should have been sickening, amazing when it should have been abhorrent.
Would making love to Saintcrow be the same? Did vampires make love like human men? Or was it some totally different, bizarre experience entirely? And did she really want to know?
She poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it into the living room. At the window, she pulled back the curtain. There wasn’t much to see other than rocks, trees, and the dark clouds rapidly gathering overhead.
She had always loved the rain. At home, she liked to wrap up in a blanket and sit on the front porch when it stormed. Even though Kathy had been afraid of the thunder and the lightning, she had always crawled into Kadie’s lap.
Kadie felt her throat grow thick as she thought about her little sister. Kathy had been a change-of-life baby. Kadie had been sixteen when her mother announced she was pregnant. Kadie remembered being horrified at the thought of her mother having another baby. Kathy had been spoiled and coddled by her parents from the day she’d been born. Kadie had never been jealous of the attention Kathy received. She had doted on her little sister, been heartbroken when Kathy took sick. Her father, a respected surgeon, had been unable to diagnose her illness. Specialists had been called in but to no avail. Her ailment remained a mystery. Recently, her father had discovered an infusion that enabled Kathy to enjoy several weeks at home before it wore off and she had to return to the hospital for another treatment.
With a sigh, Kadie turned away from the window, praying that a cure could be found.
The day stretched before her, as gloomy as her thoughts. Kadie began to understand why Brittany worked in the library, why Marti and Jeremy worked in the grocery store, and why Leslie and Chelsea handed out popcorn at the movie theater. They didn’t get paid, but it gave them something to do, a sense, however false, of being useful.
Moving to the sofa, she wondered if there was something in town she could do.
She sat up with a start when the doorbell rang. Feeling a little apprehensive, she set her coffee cup aside, then went to the door and looked through the peephole.
It was Carl Freeman.
Curious, she opened the door. “Hi. What brings you here?”
“I was just taking a walk and thought I’d stop by.”
“That’s some long walk.”
“Tell me about it.” He shuffled from one foot to the other. “Can I come in?”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to let anyone into the house.”
“Maybe you could come out?” he suggested.
“I guess so.” Leaving the door open, she stepped outside.
“How are you liking it here?” he asked.
“Is that a trick question?”
“Yeah, I guess it is. I mean, what’s there to like?” Kadie pondered that a moment. He was right. She could think of nothing in this town to recommend it. But there had to be something. “The trees are pretty,” she remarked, glancing at the oak in the front yard. “The air is clean.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “You’re one of those ‘the glass is half-full’ kind of people, aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but if you look hard enough, you can usually find something good in any situation,” she said, and then frowned. Why had she said that? She hated it here, beautiful trees and clean air notwithstanding.
Kadie felt a sudden apprehension when he moved closer. She took a step to the side, then folded her arms over her breasts.
He cleared his throat. Not quite meeting her eyes, he said, “You’re very pretty.”
Murmuring, “Thank you,” Kadie took a step backward, her apprehension turning to alarm when he took another step toward her. “What are you doing?”
“Scratching an itch.”
Before she could retreat into the house, his arms closed around her and then he was kissing her, his body rubbing against hers, his hands stroking her arms, her face, her back.
At first, she was too startled by his behavior, too outraged by his brash assault, to react, until he plunged his tongue into her mouth. Gagging, she drove her knee into his crotch as hard as she could.
He released her immediately, his hands clutching his injured manhood.
Pivoting on her heel, Kadie escaped into the house and slammed the door behind her. She turned the lock with a flourish, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. What had just happened? She had never said or done a single thing to encourage him.
She pressed her hand to her heart. What would Saintcrow think when he found out?
What would he do?
He had told her that none of the vampires would dare touch her on pain of death. Did that apply to the humans in town, too?
She was suddenly certain that it did, and just as certain that she knew why Carl had rubbed his body against hers, why he had kissed her. It was no secret that he wanted to end his life. Had he finally found a way to make it happen?
Panic sent her into the bathroom. She showered for twenty minutes in hopes of erasing Carl’s scent from her skin, washed her hair three times, brushed her teeth.
Pulling on clean clothes, she tried to relax, but it was hopeless. She fretted over Carl’s actions the rest of the day, her tension growing with each passing hour. She didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s death.
Her nerves were drawn tight as a bow string when Saintcrow appeared in the living room.
As usual, he asked about her day, only to pause, his brows rushing together, his eyes narrowing, as he looked her up and down, his nostrils flaring.
He didn’t ask any questions, just looked at her as though awaiting an explanation.
Kadie glared at him. She saw no need to explain what he obviously already knew.
And still he stood there, waiting.
“Don’t hurt him,” she said.
“The man has been looking for death since he came here. He’s found it.”
Kadie placed her hand on Saintcrow’s arm. It felt like iron beneath her palm. “You can’t kill him just because he kissed me!”
“You think not?”
“I won’t be the cause of a man’s death!”
“He knew what he was doing. If I spare him, it will weaken my authority and put your life in danger.”
“But . . .”
“The subject is closed,” he said harshly. Then, more quietly, “I’ll make it quick.”
Before she could beg Saintcrow to reconsider, he was gone.
Unable to sit still, she paced the living room floor, her mind conjuring one gruesome image after another, all of them ending with Carl Freeman dead and drained of blood.
Kadie went to the window and stared out into the darkness. Where was Saintcrow? What was he doing? She sat on the sofa, her fingers drumming on the cushion beside her, then got up and went to the window again. She glanced at her watch, surprised to find that what had seemed like hours had been only a few minutes.
She was ready to scream when Saintcrow reappeared.
Kadie stared at him, mute, but when he said nothing, she had to ask, “Did you . . . is he . . . ?”
“No.” He swore a pithy oath, then grabbed her arm and yanked her up close against him. “You owe me one, Kadie Andrews.”
She stared up at him. “What . . . what do you want?”
Desire blazed in his eyes. “I think you know.” One hand fisted in her hair. “That’s my price. Is his life worth it?”
“You said you wouldn’t force me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are! This is blackmail of the worst kind!”
“Yes, or no?”
“How do I know you didn’t kill him?”
“Because I’m telling you that I didn’t. Do you believe me?”
She met his probing gaze without blinking or flinching and she knew, somehow she knew, he was telling her the truth. She blew out a sigh. Giving him what he wanted—what she wanted, if she was honest with herself—seemed a small price to pay for a man’s life.
“Very well, Saintcrow. The answer is yes. I’ll sleep with you. As long as it isn’t in a coffin.”
His laughter startled her. “You win, Kadie. It’s enough that you believe me. For now.”
“You don’t want me?”
“Always, but I want it to be your idea, not mine.”
“Then what was this all about?”
The heat faded from his eyes. “I’m not sure.”
Stunned, and unaccountably disappointed, she dropped down on the sofa. “Where’s Carl now?”
Saintcrow leaned against the hearth, his arms folded over his chest. “I let him go. As far as anyone else knows, he’s dead and buried.”
“You let him go?”
“It was either that or kill him. I trust you won’t tell anyone he’s still alive.”
“No, of course not. Can I ask you something?”
He nodded.
“I saw a graveyard. Are there people buried there? I mean, is it a real cemetery?”
“It’s real, and yes, there are people buried there. People who have died here,” he added, anticipating her next question. “Most from natural causes.”
“Most?”
“There have been casualties from time to time.”
She didn’t have to ask what kind of casualties. The town was filled with vampires, after all. “Have you ever seen any ghosts out there?”
“Don’t tell me you saw one?”
“No, but . . .” She felt a flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. “I felt something . . . something cold and kind of clammy. It was creepy.”
He started to assure her that the dead couldn’t hurt her, then changed his mind. Most of the Undead were more dangerous than the living.
“Anything else you want to know?” he asked, though he had no idea why he was answering her questions. He had never done so for any of the others.
“Just one. I was wondering why there are so few men here. Human men, I mean.”
“Probably because men rarely get lost.”
“Yeah, right,” Kadie said. But she smiled in spite of herself. “Seriously, why?”
He shrugged. “Very few people find this place. Sometimes there are more men, sometimes more women. At the moment, the females outnumber the males. Women live longer. Men are more aggressive than women, less inclined to accept captivity, more likely to start fights they can’t win.”
She contemplated that for several minutes before asking, “Are you going to keep me here forever?”
“Perhaps.” His gaze moved over her, as warm and tangible as a caress. And then he took her hand in his and drew her to her feet and into his arms. “But I think not.”
Unbelievably, at that moment, with his arms holding her close and his dark eyes making love to her, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
She woke early the next morning, still thinking of Saintcrow, still wondering what it would be like to make love to a vampire.
Going downstairs, she came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the living room. All the old furniture was gone, replaced by the Jonathan Adler furniture, the new end tables and lamps. Saintcrow had arranged it so the sofa faced the fireplace. The easy chair and one table were to the sofa’s left, the love seat and the other table to the right.
How had he gotten everything so quickly? she wondered, and then grinned. More vampire mojo.
There was a note on one of the end tables.
Kadie—
If you want to rearrange the furniture we can do it when I rise.
RS
The kitchen was also refurbished. She couldn’t help smiling when she noticed there were two new chairs though she had only ordered one. The new blender and microwave were in place, new silverware gleamed in the drawer.
After making a pot of coffee, she pulled a new Spode china cup from the shelf. She hadn’t seriously expected Saintcrow to buy all these things. She glanced at the cup in her hand. What if she broke it? It wouldn’t be like breaking one of her cheap ceramic mugs back home.
With a shake of her head, she poured herself a cup of coffee. If he wanted to keep her, then he could keep her in the manner to which she was seriously unaccustomed!
Cup in hand, she returned to her bedroom. She hadn’t paid much attention on waking, but now she noticed several packages on the dresser. No doubt she’d find her new sheets, towels, and bath soap inside. Not to mention a bottle of the world’s most expensive perfume.
Unable to resist, she opened the smallest package and spritzed herself with Clive Christian No. 1. It smelled divine. Feeling like a movie star, she returned to the kitchen, wondering if Saintcrow would hire her a maid and a cook if she asked him to.
Kadie was sitting on the new sofa, watching a movie on her new DVD player, when Saintcrow appeared. As usual, her foolish heart skipped a beat—partly from the suddenness of his arrival, but mostly because he was such an amazing-looking man.
He glanced around the room. “So, how do you like it?”
“How do
you
like it? You paid for it.”
He shrugged. “A sofa’s a sofa. A chair’s a chair. Do you need anything else?”
“Yes.” Sitting up, she leaned forward, her elbows braced on her knees. “I want to know about you.”
He lifted one brow. “What about me?”
“Gee, I wonder. Let’s see. You’re a nine-hundred-year-old vampire. Why don’t you start there?”
He dropped into the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “What do you want to know?”