Nights master, p.5
Night's Master, page 5
part #3 of Children of The Night Series
Delving inside my handbag for my keys, I muttered, “Thanks for the picnic.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and then, whistling softly, he sauntered back to his car and drove away.
I stared after him, confused by both his abrupt change in attitude and his kiss. It hadn’t been a bad kiss, as kisses go, but it hadn’t set me on fire, either.
Ah, well, it really didn’t matter, since I’d probably never see him again.
The rest of the afternoon stretched before me. Feeling at somewhat of a loss, I grabbed a rag and went from room to room, dusting the furniture. The house wasn’t very big—two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room with a fireplace and hardwood floors, a sunny kitchen, and a small dining room—but it was located on a large lot at the end of a long, narrow street. A white picket fence surrounded the backyard; directly behind the fence was an open field. To the right, a stand of tall timber covered several acres. The only other house on the road was a good distance away.
I had fallen in love with the place at first sight. In my spare time, I had repainted the living room, the bathroom, and one of the bedrooms.
About eleven o’clock that night, I took a long, hot shower, then slipped into a silky tank top and my favorite pajama bottoms, the ones decorated with tiny blue and purple hearts. After fixing a cup of hot chocolate, I lit a fire in the hearth, then settled down in front of the TV to watch a late movie.
I was drifting on the brink of sleep when someone rang the bell. Smothering a yawn, I went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Rafe.”
The sound of his voice made my heart skip a beat. “What do you want?”
“To see you, of course. Why else would I be here?”
I glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. It was late for working people like me, but I supposed it was the shank of the evening for a Vampire.
I opened the door a crack. “I never gave you my address. How did you find me?” Since I was new in town and had a private phone number, I knew he hadn’t found my name on the Web.
His gaze burned into mine. “Honey, I could find you ten feet down in the dark.”
The look in his eyes, the heat in his voice, did funny things in the pit of my stomach.
“Are you going to invite me in,” he asked, “or make me stand out here on the porch like some horny teenager?”
Stifling a laugh, I took a step backward. “Come on in.”
I felt a peculiar shimmery sensation in the air around me as he crossed the threshold, only then remembering that a Vampire couldn’t enter a home without an invitation from the owner.
Raphael followed me into the living room. “Nice place,” he said, glancing around.
I followed his gaze. The room wasn’t anything fancy, but it was warm and cozy, from the braided rug in front of the hearth to the oil painting of a herd of wild horses running in the moonlight that hung over the mantel. A pair of red oak end tables flanked a high-backed sofa; a matching chair sat at an angle.
I gestured at the couch. “Please, sit down.”
I don’t know if he expected me to sit beside him or not, but I took the chair. Sitting next to him while I was wearing a skimpy tank top and pajama bottoms seemed like a really bad idea. Picking up the remote, I switched off the TV.
I was trying to think of something to say when Raphael sniffed the air, and then frowned. “Where have you been?”
The tone of his voice lifted the short hairs along my nape. “I haven’t been anywhere, why?”
“Who were you with today?”
“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, is it?”
“Answer me, dammit! Who were you with?”
“You’re not my father. I don’t have to answer to you.”
He uncoiled from the sofa and stood towering over me, his expression lethal. “Who were you with?”
I looked up at him, my mouth suddenly dry. “Just a guy who came into the bookstore.”
“What’s his name?”
“Cagin.”
Raphael’s whole body grew taut. “What were you doing with him?”
“I wasn’t doing anything. If you must know, he took me on a picnic.”
If possible, Raphael’s black eyes grew even darker, narrowing to ominous slits. “You’re dating a Were?”
“He’s not a Werewolf. I asked him if he was, and he said no.”
A mild oath escaped Raphael’s lips. He raked a hand through his hair, then resumed his place on the sofa. “Werewolves aren’t the only Were-creatures. You know that, don’t you?”
I shook my head.
“There are a number of Were-creatures,” he explained. “There are Were-leopards, Were-coyotes, Were-bears, Were-lions, and Were-tigers, to name only a few. Cagin is a Were-tiger.”
I envisioned Cagin with a mouth full of sharp teeth. The better to eat you with, my dear. “I didn’t know. I mean, I had no idea.” But it explained the funny feeling I’d had when I met him, and it made me wonder anew how I was able to discern Vampires and Were-creatures from other people. I’d never been psychic or anything before. Or maybe I’d just never had the chance to use my gift, if that’s what it was, until now.
“There’s a big difference between Werewolves and other Were-creatures,” Rafe went on. “The Were-tigers and such don’t have to change when the moon is full.”
“So they’re really just shape-shifters?”
“Right. They’re born that way, not made. Most of them are harmless, but you never know when one will turn on you. And once a Were-creature gets a taste for human flesh, they’re just as dangerous and vicious as the Werewolves.”
“So, where do the other Were-creatures stand in the war? Whose side are they on?”
“The Were-tigers are the only other Supernatural creatures involved. The rest have remained neutral so far.”
“Why are the Were-tigers involved?”
“They like to fight.”
I blew out a sigh, thinking I had been much happier before I knew Vampires and Were-creatures existed. It made me wonder what other monsters were lurking out there in the dark.
“Stay away from Cagin,” Raphael said flatly. “You’re not safe with him.”
“But I’m safe with you?” I tapped my fingertips on the arm of the chair. “Seems to me that it’s just a case of choosing who I want to bite me, a Vampire or a Were-tiger.”
“You can’t trust the Werewolves,” he said curtly. “You can’t trust Cagin.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Good point.” He gazed into the fireplace for several moments, then said, “I told myself I wouldn’t see you again, that no good could come from it.”
“Then why are you here?”
He turned to look at me, his dark eyes intent upon my face. No other man had ever looked at me quite that way, as if every fiber of his being was focused solely on me. My breath seemed trapped in my throat as I waited for his answer.
“Because,” he said quietly, “I couldn’t stay away.”
His voice was so warm and filled with such desire, I was surprised I didn’t melt on the spot.
“Raphael…”
“I know how you feel. You’re afraid to trust me, and I don’t blame you. Hell, I don’t trust myself sometimes, but…” He blew out a breath that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. “If you won’t be my lover, would you at least be my friend?”
I didn’t know what to say. Raphael Cordova was eighty-five years old. He’d been a dyed-in-the-wool Vampire for seventy-two of those years. Yet, at that moment, he sounded far younger than his years. Looking into his eyes, I saw the boy he must have been before his life was turned upside down. He probably hadn’t had many friends, what with being tutored at home and all. And later, after he had been turned, it probably hadn’t been any easier to find guys to hang out with. After all, not many thirteen-year-old kids were out on the town in the wee hours of the morning.
“What was it like, sleeping during the day and being awake all night? What did you do for fun? Did you get to go out late at night?”
“Not as much as we wanted to.” A slow grin spread over his face. “Rane and I snuck out of the house a lot. Worried my Mom no end, the way we were always sneaking out. My dad was more lenient. He understood our need to explore the night, to learn what it meant to be what we had become, especially as we grew older.” He grunted softly, and I knew from his expression that he was remembering his past. “Rane and I got into some hellacious situations. There were a couple of times when we’d have been in a world of hurt if our old man hadn’t come to our rescue.”
“What kind of situations?”
“Nothing too bad until we turned sixteen. It was about that time that we really started stretching our wings, so to speak, testing our powers, seeing how far we could go. One night we got into a brawl with a motorcycle gang. Those guys really knew how to fight,” he recalled with a wry grin, “but they were no match for a couple of teenage Vampires.
“The closest call we had was with a Vampire hunter. He trailed us one night. Being young and stupid and overconfident, we didn’t pay any attention to him until he followed us into an alley that dead-ended against a six-story building. We were trying to decide whether to scale the building or turn and fight when he sprayed us with holy water. That stuff burns like hellfire. Some of it splashed in Rane’s eyes, momentarily blinding him. While he was trying to shake it off, the hunter came after me. He had a silver dagger in one hand and a thick wooden stake in the other. If the old man hadn’t shown up when he did…” Raphael shook his head. “I guess I wouldn’t be here now.”
“I’m glad your father found you in time.”
“I guess it’s pretty stupid of me to be telling you all this, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so. Friends shouldn’t have secrets from one another.”
He stared at me for a full thirty seconds, and then he smiled. “So I haven’t scared you away for good?”
“I don’t know. What does being your friend entail, exactly?”
“Whatever you want it to.”
“You mean like being there when you’re feeling blue, driving you to the airport, and listening when you need someone to talk to?”
“Pretty much,” he said with a melancholy smile, “except for driving me to the airport. So, what do you say?”
I couldn’t resist the soulful expression in his dark eyes, or the barely suppressed note of hope in his voice. Here was a being with Supernatural powers, a man who could probably destroy me with a glance, and yet he wanted me to be his friend. How could I refuse? Besides, I didn’t have any friends in Oak Hollow, either.
I stuck out my hand. “Hello, friend.”
His hand, large and strong, engulfed mine. “Friends,” he murmured. “Forever.”
Forever. Here was a man who could promise me eternity and mean it. “So, friend,” I asked, “what do you want to do now?”
His smile was slow and oh-so-sexy.
“Never mind that!” I said. “We’re friends, remember? Not lovers.”
He was still holding my hand. He squeezed it lightly. “You’ll let me know if you change your mind about that?”
I nodded.
“So,” he said, releasing my hand, “do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“Sure.” Picking up the remote, I turned the screen on, then surfed through the channels until I found a movie neither of us had seen before. After a moment’s hesitation, I joined Rafael on the sofa, careful to keep a respectable distance between us.
The screen might as well have been blank, the movie silent, for all that I got out of watching it. I couldn’t concentrate on the plot, couldn’t think of anything but the man sitting beside me. His presence filled the room; his masculine scent teased my nostrils. He rested one arm along the back of the sofa, his hand tantalizingly close to my nape. Even though we weren’t touching, I was aware of every breath he took, every glance he slid in my direction. Every time he moved, I went still inside, waiting, wondering if he would reach for me. Friends, I thought. How could I be friends with a man who made me feel this way?
I was almost twenty-four years old. I’d had a number of boyfriends in high school, but nothing really serious until I was a senior. My parents hadn’t liked Shane, which only made me more determined to see him. Even when I realized my parents were right about him, I refused to give them the satisfaction of breaking up with him until much later, which pretty much ruined my last year of school.
I didn’t get serious about anyone else until Lyle. I was certain he was the man I would marry, the man I would spend the rest of my life with. That, too, had ended badly. Maybe Lyle and I would have lived happily ever after if I’d been willing to compromise my standards, but I’d made it through high school with my virginity intact, thanks to a vow I’d made with my friend, Sherry, who had been my best friend at the time. We had watched the so-called popular girls in school, heard the way the guys talked about the ones who put out, and decided our self-respect was worth more than a one-night stand with the captain of the football team. When I told Lyle I was a virgin and intended to stay that way, he had tried, forcibly, to change my mind. I’d had him arrested. Needless to say, that put an end to our relationship. I’d sworn off men after Lyle.
And now Raphael was here, tempting me with his ebony eyes and his slow, sexy smile. No matter how often I reminded myself that he was a Vampire, it didn’t seem to help. He was just the kind of man I had always dreamed of, only he wasn’t really a man at all, and I was afraid that allowing myself to care for him wouldn’t be a dream come true, but a nightmare. And yet I wanted his touch more than my next breath.
As if he knew what I was thinking, he turned toward me, the heat in his eyes hotter than any fire.
My heart seemed to slow, and then it sped up. I could feel it pounding in my ears. From the way Raphael was looking at me, I knew he could hear it, too, just as I knew that the heat in his eyes wasn’t entirely from the urge to make love.
What would it be like, to let him bite me, to know he was drinking my blood?
The thought washed through my veins like ice water, and even though I was loathe to admit it, even to myself, it held a modicum of fascination. In the old Dracula movies, the women always swooned when under Dracula’s spell. They never resisted; instead, they bared their throats in silent invitation, their expressions bordering on sheer ecstasy as he bent over their necks, his black cloak settling over them like a shroud.
“Does it hurt?” I asked curiously.
Raphael didn’t pretend he didn’t know what I was asking. “That depends on the Vampire.”
That was interesting. “In what way?”
“There are some who feed like wild animals. They take what they want without a care for their…” He paused, and I could see him searching for a word that wouldn’t frighten or offend me.
“Prey?” I said it for him, since he seemed to be having a hard time.
He nodded. “Others who are more thoughtful make it a pleasant experience.”
“So, how come you never hear anyone talking about how wonderful it is to be some Vampire’s dinner?”
“Because we wipe memory of us from their minds.”
“You can do that?”
He nodded again.
“Have you ever done that to me? Bitten me and then made me forget?”
“No, and I never will.”
I hoped he was telling me the truth. “How often do you have to…eat? Drink?”
He shrugged. “Once a week is sufficient to sustain life, though not very satisfying.”
“What if they’re drunk? Do you get tipsy?”
“No,” he said, chuckling.
“What if you drink from someone who’s got a really bad cold? Or the flu? Do you get sick, too?” Although research scientists had managed to eradicate AIDS and most of the contagious diseases known to man, there was still no cure for the common cold.
“We tend to avoid those who are in ill health, even though their sickness doesn’t affect us.”
I wondered if that was common knowledge. I mean, if Vampires could drink tainted blood without it affecting them, maybe scientists could use their blood or DNA to find a cure for the new strain of influenza that had recently been discovered.
“Do you like it?” I asked, my curiosity growing by leaps and bounds. “Drinking blood? I mean, isn’t it really gross?”
“It should be, but it isn’t.” His gaze slid to my throat. “It’s very sweet, actually.”
“Right.”
He laughed softly. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“No, thank you!”
He laughed again, a husky, sexy sound that wrapped itself around me like warm velvet. The attraction between us flared to life, ignited by the heat in his eyes. I wanted to be in his arms, to feel his body pressed against mine, to taste his kisses…and that was all, I assured myself, just a kiss, nothing more, even though my whole body ached with wanting him.
Surely one kiss wouldn’t hurt.
“Kathy.” His voice was thick with longing.
“Kiss me.” The words came out in the barest of whispers, but he heard them.
His arm slid around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, closing my eyes as his mouth claimed mine. His lips were firm and cool, his kiss unhurried. I scooted closer, wanting to feel his body pressed against mine. I slid my hand under his shirt, my fingers moving restlessly over his broad back.
At my touch, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over my lower lip, dipping inside to taste and explore. Heat exploded through me, as if I had swallowed a piece of the sun. That quickly, I was on fire for him.
He cupped the back of my head in one hand while he lifted me onto his lap, so that I was straddling his hips. I moaned softly, scorched by the heat of his arousal. In a distant part of my mind, I remembered my mother warning me to never, ever, sit on a boy’s lap. As I had only been ten or eleven at the time, I had been puzzled by her advice. The reason for her warning was blatantly obvious now.
“Kathy…” His voice was ragged as he whispered my name.
