Dead Sexy (25 page)

Regan paced back and forth in front of the entrance to the cave, waiting, wondering if she would shift again. The moon had risen an hour ago; thus far, she hadn't felt the wolf stirring inside her.

"Do you feel anything?" Santiago asked.

"No."

"I think it is safe for us to leave."

With a nod, she helped him gather their gear together. The nightmare was over until the next full moon.

Riding down the mountain was much faster and more pleasant than walking up had been. Regan had been surprised to see the horses, thinking them long gone. When she asked Santiago about it, he told her he had called them to him. Another useful trick, she thought.

The trip home was uneventful. Regan had been worried about the horses when Santiago turned them loose, but he had assured her they would find their way back to Hunonpa Luta's camp.

It seemed odd to be riding in a car again, to see houses and stores, paved roads and street lights. It didn't seem right that everything in the city looked so normal, so unchanged, when her whole life had been turned upside down.

It was after midnight several nights later when Santiago pulled up in front of her apartment. "I do not think this is a good idea."

"I have to go home sometime. I need to change my clothes, and I want to sleep in my own bed and bathe in my own tub."

"Stay with me tonight."

Regan glanced out the passenger-side window. The streets were dark, the sky overcast. The thought of spending the night in her apartment alone when Vasile was on the loose sent a shiver down her spine. She was going to have to face Vasile sometime, but not tonight. She needed to come up with a plan, needed to get her emotions under control before she went hunting the werewolf. Perhaps she should go home with Santiago. She would be safer with him than she would be staying here alone.

"All right," she decided, "but I'm coming home in the morning."

He didn't say anything, but simply turned the car around and drove to You Bet Your Life Park. After unlocking the trunk, he gathered their bags.

Regan stayed close to his side as they entered the park. Few lights were visible inside the park. It was creepy, walking along the tree-lined path toward Santiago's apartment. From time to time, vampires appeared out of the darkness, seemingly from out of nowhere. It was disconcerting, having them appear and disappear like that. Some of them nodded at Santiago. Some of them looked at her as if wondering how she would taste. Here and there, they passed couples sitting on wooden benches, enjoying the evening air and the moonlight. A few of the vampires, both male and female, were with their mortal companions. There had been a time not so long ago when Regan had wondered how any man or woman could be seriously involved with a vampire, let alone live with one, but now, after spending time with Santiago, it was easier to understand the attraction, and easy to see why the vampires were trying to have a law passed that would allow vampires and mortals to intermarry. The fact that she didn't find that as disturbing as she once had was quite disturbing.

They took the elevator to Santiago's apartment. He tucked both bags under one arm, then unlocked the door and stepped inside ahead of her. Dropping the bags on the floor, he turned on the lights and muttered a vile oath.

Startled, Regan leaned to one side so she could see around him. She gasped at what she saw. The apartment was a shambles. The sofa and chair had been ripped to shreds, tables were overturned, lamps had been broken.

Santiago waited until Regan entered the apartment, then closed the door and set the lock. Hands clenched at his sides, he explored the rest of the apartment. Regan followed him from room to room. The bedding, mattress, and pillows were in shreds, the dresser and night stands were on their sides, the chair was in pieces. The refrigerator door had been ripped off; the bags of synthetic blood had been opened, their contents splashed across the floor and splattered over the walls.

"Who would have done this?" Regan exclaimed.

"Vasile."

"But… how did he get in here?"

Santiago shook his head. "I do not know, but I intend to find out."

"How?"

"Someone must have let him in."

"I didn't think anyone else had access to your apartment."

"Stay here. I will be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"Downstairs. To check with security."

"No way! I'm not staying here alone."

For a moment, it looked like he was going to argue with her, and then thought better of it. "Very well, come along," he said, picking up her bag.

The vampire at the desk, whose name was Lenny, denied letting anyone into Santiago's apartment and said that, as far as he knew, no one had come looking for him. When asked, Lenny replied that there hadn't been any killings in the park or in the city in the last week and a half.

Santiago thanked Lenny for his time and requested that someone be sent up to his apartment as soon as possible to clean up the mess.

"We can always go back to my place," Regan suggested as they left the office.

"No. We will go to my lair."

She was about to remind him it had been trashed when she realized he meant his other lair.

"Why do you keep two places?" she asked, and knew the answer before the question left her lips. She had seen the reason with her own eyes. "Do all vampires keep more than one place?"

"The smart ones do." Taking her by the hand, he led her to his car. He held the car door open for her, closed it, then rounded the front of the car and slid behind the wheel.

"You don't spend much time in the park apartment, do you?" Regan asked.

"Why do you ask?" Glancing over his shoulder, he pulled away from the curb.

She shrugged. "It's so bland. It doesn't look like you."

He glanced at her, obviously amused. "No?"

She grinned. "All that white. It just doesn't suit you."

"Perhaps I should paint the walls black," he mused, "to match my soul."

Regan's smile faded. "I didn't mean that."

"I know."

"Do you think Vasile left town? That vampire, Lenny, said there haven't been any killings recently."

"It is always a possibility."

"I'm going to have to go home sooner or later," Regan reminded him.

"But not tonight."

Knowing it was useless to argue with him, she sat back and made a mental list of the things she had to do when she got home—pick up her mail, call her parents, call Michael, call the department, check her e-mail.

Santiago pulled up in front of the dilapidated building ten minutes later. He parked the Speedster at the curb, then came around to open the door for her. Glancing around, she wondered why he didn't find a new lair, maybe in a nicer neighborhood where the surroundings weren't so run down. Most of the surrounding buildings had fallen into the same state of neglect and disrepair as the one he occupied.

She kept glancing over her shoulder as she followed him down the stairs to his lair. The building, with its broken windows and musty smell, gave her the creeps.

He opened the door for her and she preceded him inside. His apartment in the park was just a set of rooms, but this place, this was where he lived. His power washed over her as she stepped across the threshold. Why hadn't she felt it before? Even as she pondered the question, she knew the answer. She hadn't been a werewolf before. She hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, had tried to pretend it wasn't true, but her senses were sharper now. She had noticed the difference as soon as they entered the city.

"I'm like Vasile now," she murmured, thinking aloud. "Maybe he won't want to kill me anymore."

Santiago regarded her through narrowed eyes. "You may be right." He dropped the bag he was carrying beside the sofa. "It is against pack law for one werewolf to kill another. The penalty is death."

At last, Regan thought, a ray of hope. Vasile had intended to kill her to get even with Santiago, but now… She frowned. Would he defy the laws of his kind to exact his revenge? Or had he inadvertently given her back her life?

Regan sat down. "How do the werewolves live?"

Santiago sat down beside her, one arm draped across the back of the sofa. "What do you mean, how do they live?"

"Do they live like normal people when they aren't, you know, ravaging the countryside?"

"Ah. Yes. It is easier for them now that they are not as numerous as they once were."

"Are they… do they… ?"

"What?"

"Do they get married, have children?"

"Of the dozen or so that are rumored to be under Vasile's protection, six are mated pairs."

"Mated pairs? Does that mean they're married or just… mated?"

"They are married and live ordinary lives, at least for the most part, except when the moon is full."

"Are the married ones all werewolves?"

"Two of the couples are. The third couple is mixed, werewolf and human."

"Can they have children?"

Santiago nodded, his gaze intent upon her face.

"What kind of children do they have?"

He laughed softly. "The usual kind."

"And Vasile?"

"He has never married, nor had children, that I know of." He leaned toward her, his gaze caressing her. "It is important to you, having children?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Why?" She rose from the sofa and began to pace the floor. "Why? Because I'm a woman, that's why. Because I love children. Because I've always wanted to get married and have a large family."

Santiago sat back, his expression shuttered. "Hunting vampires and raising a family do not seem to be compatible."

"No, I guess not." She blew out a sigh. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed."

Rising, Santiago drew her into his embrace. "I love you, Regan. I wish I could give you the life you want."

"So do I." Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. "Good night, Joaquin."

Blinking back her tears, she picked up her bag, went into the bedroom, and closed the door. She had thought her life was complicated before she met Santiago. Now, she wished she could go back to those relatively quiet days, when all she had to worry about was finding a new job.

Opening her bag, she pulled out her toothpaste, toothbrush, and nightgown and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her nightgown, and slid into bed. The satin sheets were cool beneath her. The pillow was redolent with Santiago's scent.

He loved her. The thought made her heart ache. In all his long life, he had loved only one other woman. And now he was in love with her. He had told her so on several occasions, asking nothing in return. Maybe he just needed to say the words.

She wiped her tears on a corner of the sheet. And she loved him. It would be so easy to succumb to him, to give in to the yearnings of her own heart, but she knew it would only lead to heartache.

Right now, she didn't have time for any kind of relationship. If she wanted to reclaim her humanity, she had to find Vasile and destroy him. It sounded so easy, yet she knew it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to accomplish. She wondered if werewolves grew stronger with age, the way vampires did. She would have to remember to ask Santiago.