them again, bring me
Saintcrow. Alive.
You’ve got 48 hours.
“Dammit!”
“Micah, what’s wrong?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, then swung around to face Holly. “Wrong? This is way beyond wrong.”
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“Braga has my parents and probably Rosa and Sofia. She’s given me forty-eight hours to deliver Saintcrow or she’s going to kill them all.”
Holly stared at him, eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He sank down on the sofa beside her, then rose to pace the floor. “Even if I was of a mind to do as she asks, there’s no way I could accomplish it. I’m no match for Saintcrow. Even if I could take him unaware, which is never gonna happen, I couldn’t defeat him.” Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder. “Shit! He’s here.”
Micah stalked toward the door and flung it open. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly.
Saintcrow lifted one brow. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Sorry. What can we do for you?”
“I was taking a walk, and I got the feeling that you were pretty shaken up. I came by to see if I could help.”
“You’re the only one who can.”
“So what’s going on?” Saintcrow glanced from Micah to Holly and back again.
“This.” Micah held up his phone so Saintcrow could read the screen.
A muscle twitched in Saintcrow’s jaw.
“Do you think they’re still alive?” Micah asked.
“She’s got nothing to bargain with if she kills them.”
“Nothing?” Micah raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve got eight brothers and sisters. Nieces. Nephews. Cousins.”
Saintcrow studied Micah through narrowed eyes. “You’re not going to try anything stupid, are you?”
“You mean like trying to take you out? Hell, no. Besides, she wants you alive.”
“Undoubtedly,” Saintcrow muttered dryly. “So, what do you want to do?”
“Give her what she wants and save my family. There’s just one problem. You.”
“There’s no problem. We’ll give her what she wants.”
Micah stared at Saintcrow. “What? You’re going to walk in and give yourself up, just like that?”
Saintcrow twitched one shoulder. “I’ve never gone after her before. I know why she hates me, and I don’t blame her. Until now, the fight’s always been between the two of us. I figured we’d meet sooner or later and settle it between us. But she’s crossed the line now. She’s made it clear that as long as she’s alive, Kadie’s in danger and so are you. And now, apparently, so is your family. It’s time to end this once and for all. She’s helpless during the day, but I’m not. Neither is Holly. . . .”
“Holly!” Micah exclaimed. “No way! She’s got no part in this.”
“Just listen to me. Our best chance of getting your family out of danger without anyone getting hurt is to make our move when Braga is at rest. Holly’s the only one of us who can cross your family’s threshold uninvited during the day. I’ll cause a distraction of some kind to draw Mahlon outside. Once he’s out of the picture, Holly goes inside, tells your old man to invite me in. I’ll take Braga out. End of story.”
“Do you really think it will be that easy?” Micah asked.
“Barring any unforeseen complications, yeah. Holly, you in?”
Holly nodded. She didn’t like the idea of being anywhere near Braga or her bodyguard, but she had met Micah’s family. She liked all of them. And she loved Micah. How could she refuse to help?
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Saintcrow said. “I promise.”
And, as she had once before, Holly believed him.
* * *
Saintcrow timed their exit from Romania so that they arrived in Arizona an hour before dawn. Twenty minutes later, Holly and her vampire companions were ensconced in the best suite in the best hotel in town.
Micah and Kadie went to seek their rest immediately on their arrival.
Holly was too wound up to even think about sleeping. Her head ached, her stomach was in knots. She stared at Saintcrow, who stood at the window looking outside.
“Do you really think we can do this?” she asked.
“There’s a risk, but I think we can pull it off.”
“Why are you so afraid of Mahlon?”
“I’m not afraid of him. There are rumors about him—that he’s a Djinn, he’s immortal, he’s Braga’s lover, he’s a demon. I think they’re all stories Braga started to make him seem more dangerous than he really is. He’s taken her blood, so he’s incredibly strong. But he’s still just a man. The only thing that ever worried me was his ability to hunt vampires while they’re resting.”
“Are we going to Micah’s house today?”
Saintcrow nodded. “Around three. Braga will be at rest. Mahlon won’t be expecting any of us. I’ll draw him outside. Once he’s out of the way, I’ll stake Braga.” He flashed a wry grin. “I know what you’re thinking. Movies always show a fountain of blood gushing from the wound when a vampire is staked, but that only happens with fledglings.”
“But to kill her like that, when she’s helpless . . .” Holly shook her head. “It’s . . . it’s murder.”
“She’s already dead, Holly.”
“So are you,” she retorted, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Yes,” he said dryly. “I know.”
“I’m sorry, I . . .”
“Forget it.”
“Do you feel . . . alive?”
“Right now, I just feel the need to rest.”
She nodded, embarrassed that she had asked such an inappropriate question.
There were three bedrooms in the suite—one for Kadie and Saintcrow, one for Micah, one for her.
But, today, she didn’t want to sleep alone.
After changing into her nightgown, she tiptoed into Micah’s room. The heavy drapes were drawn against the light of the rising sun. He didn’t stir when she slipped under the covers.
Propped on one elbow, she let her gaze move over his face. Straight black brows, smooth olive-hued skin, a fine, straight nose. She ran her fingers lightly over his lips, remembering the heat of his kisses, the way her stomach curled with pleasure at his touch.
He loved her, or so he’d said.
“Did you mean it?” she whispered. “And if you do, then what?” She lifted a lock of his hair and let it fall through her fingers. “I want to love you,” she confessed, “but I’m afraid. Not afraid that you’ll hurt me, but afraid of what you are, of the changes it will make in my life. I know I said I’d stay with you, but I don’t think I can.”
She had to tell him, she thought as she snuggled against him and closed her eyes. She had to tell him it wasn’t going to work between them.
But not until this was over.
* * *
Saintcrow rose shortly before two that afternoon. When he went looking for Holly to let her know it was almost time to go, he was surprised to find her asleep in Ravenwood’s bed.
He regarded the two of them for several minutes. Micah loved Holly. There was no doubt about that. Saintcrow was reasonably certain that Holly loved the boy in return, or at least cared for him a great deal. Did she have what it took to join her life with that of a vampire? It took a special kind of woman—a strong woman—to make the sacrifices necessary.
Heaving a sigh, he left the room. At the moment, he had other, more pressing matters to take care of.
Downstairs, at the gift shop, he bought a hooded sweatshirt, a pair of gloves, and dark glasses.
When he returned to their suite, he slipped the sweatshirt over his head, put the gloves and glasses in his pocket, then went into Micah’s room to wake Holly, but she was already awake and dressed.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I guess so.”
With a nod, he wrapped his arm around her.
Saintcrow stood in the shade of the patio. Motioning for Holly to remain quiet, he opened his senses. Counting Mahlon, there were six mortals in the house—five adults and an infant.
Saintcrow frowned. Braga’s scent was also there, but it was faint. Too faint. He swore under his breath when he realized he had underestimated her.
“What’s wrong?” Holly asked.
“She’s not here.”
“What do you mean? Where is she?”
“I don’t know. Dammit. She’s not resting inside.”
“What do we do now?”
“You go around to the front of the house. I’ll make some noise out here. Hopefully, Mahlon will come to investigate.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I don’t know. Right now, we’re playing this by ear. You stay out of sight until I call you.” Reaching into his jacket, Saintcrow withdrew a pistol with a two-inch barrel and thrust it into her hand. “Hang on to this, just in case.” Delving into another pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and a couple of twenties, which he tucked into the pocket of her jeans. “If anything goes wrong, run like hell. When you’re safely away, call a cab to take you to a hotel. When the sun goes down, contact Micah.”
Holly glanced at the pistol in her hand. “How do you know I won’t change my mind and make a run for it? Or call the police?”
“Because you’re not the kind of woman to turn her back on someone in trouble. And calling the police might get Micah’s family killed.”
“I don’t know how to use a gun.”
“There’s nothing to it. Just point the damn thing and pull the trigger.”
Holly stared at him a moment. Then, muttering under her breath, she headed for the front yard.
When she was out of sight, Saintcrow moved to the side of the house and began pounding on the trash cans. When that didn’t attract any attention, he went into the garage, opened the door to the family car, and leaned on the horn.
He grinned when he heard the back door open, followed by the heavy tread of Mahlon’s footsteps. Leaving the garage, he stepped outside to wait.
Mahlon lumbered into sight, his ham-sized hands fisted at his sides. He stopped abruptly when he saw Saintcrow. “You.” With a snort of disdain, he flexed his muscles, cracked his knuckles, then took a step forward, arms outstretched.
Saintcrow danced out of reach. The man was big. He was powerful. But he was slow.
Mahlon grunted as he changed direction, then lunged forward. He caught Saintcrow around the middle, lifted him overhead, and hurled him against the garage.
Saintcrow landed hard, then scrambled to his feet. Damn! The brute wasn’t as slow as he’d thought.
Smiling, Mahlon wiggled his fingers, silently beckoning Saintcrow.
Saintcrow shook his head. He hadn’t existed this long by making the same mistake twice. He backed away, as if he was afraid, waited for Mahlon to close the distance between them.
Closer. Closer.
Mahlon was smiling when he sprang forward.
Saintcrow waited until the last moment, spun out of reach, and buried his hand in Mahlon’s chest.
* * *
Holly hid behind a hedge in front of the Ravenwood house, the gun heavy in her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she shoved it into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her shirt over it. She almost jumped out of her skin when a horn blared. What was going on back there?
Her hand gripped the pistol. Could she really fire it if Mahlon came charging around the side of the house? Would a gun this small even do any damage to a man of his bulk?
She sighed with relief when she heard Saintcrow holler, “Holly, get back here!”
Leery of what she might find, she made her way around to the back of the house.
Mahlon lay facedown in a widening pool of blood.
“Is he . . . ?”
Saintcrow nodded. “Oh, yeah. Holly? Holly!”
She dragged her gaze from the body, only then noticing the bloody object in Saintcrow’s hand. Was it . . . ? Revulsion swept through her at the realization that it was Mahlon’s heart.
“You’re not going to faint on me, are you?” Saintcrow asked.
She shook her head. “No. What do we do now?”
“I need to get in the house. Go inside and tell Micah’s father to invite me in.”
“Right.” Holly opened the patio door and stepped inside. The kitchen and dining room were empty.
Micah’s parents were seated on the sofa in the living room, their hands lashed behind their backs, their feet tied at the ankles. One of his sisters—she couldn’t remember which one—knelt on the floor in front of her husband, desperately trying to untie his hands, while her baby wailed for attention.
They all looked up, startled to see her. Micah’s sister stood and picked up the baby.
“Holly!” Micah’s father exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Get out, quick!”
“I’m fine.” She tried to untie his hands, but the knots were too tight. “I need you to invite a friend of Micah’s and mine inside.”
“What are you talking about? You need to get out of here before that goon comes back.”
“He won’t.” Holly moved to Micah’s mother but, again, the knots were too tight. “Please, Mr. Ravenwood, I don’t have time to explain. Just please invite my friend, Rylan Saintcrow, inside, and he’ll free all of you.”
“Why can’t you invite him in?” Micah’s mother asked, her voice shaky.
“We’re wasting time,” Holly said curtly. “Please, Mr. Ravenwood, just say the words!”
Micah’s parents exchanged worried glances; then his father said, “Rylan Saintcrow, please come in.”
An instant later, Saintcrow stood in the middle of the living room. Holly was relieved to see that he no longer held Mahlon’s heart and that he had wiped the blood from his hands.
Moving quickly, he untied Micah’s family. “All of you, get in the car and get out of here. Go to a hotel. Stay together. Mr. Ravenwood, if you’ve got a gun, take it with you. Micah will join you tonight and explain everything.”
Mr. Ravenwood regarded Saintcrow for several taut seconds. Then he pulled a rifle from the hall closet, grabbed a box of shells from the shelf, and herded his family out the back door.
“The body!” Holly exclaimed.
“Don’t worry. It’s gone.” Saintcrow jerked his chin toward the back door. “Maybe you should go with them?”
Holly bit down on the inside corner of her lip, then shook her head. “What do we do now?”
He regarded her a moment, as if weighing her resolve. And then he shrugged. “I’m gonna have a look around.”
She trailed behind him as he moved through the house. “What are you looking for?”
“Just getting a good whiff of her scent.”
“Then what?”
“I drank a little of Mahlon’s blood before I killed him.”
Holly grimaced.
“It will lead me to her. Are you ready for this?”
“I guess so.”
“You don’t have to come along, although I might need your help if she’s holed up in someone else’s home.”
Holly swallowed hard, then nodded. “Let’s go.”
Saintcrow put on gloves and dark glasses, pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, and stepped outside. He stood on the porch a moment, head lifted, turning slowly from right to left. Was he scenting the air?
Grunting softly, he descended the stairs.
Holly trailed behind him. She had expected Saintcrow to zap them to wherever Braga was hiding out. Instead, they went on foot, following a track or a scent only he could detect. It took them to a part of town where older homes were being torn down to make way for new apartments.
Holly shivered when he came to a stop, not certain if the sudden chill had been caused by an attack of nerves or by the dark clouds gathering overhead. She glanced at Saintcr
ow.
His attention was focused on the last house still standing. It was a small, single-story dwelling. “She’s inside,” he muttered. “Come on.”
Holly knew it was only her imagination, but it suddenly seemed as if the house had developed a dark aura.
She trailed behind Saintcrow. What was she doing here? She wasn’t a vampire hunter. If anything happened to Saintcrow, she would be defenseless.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
This time, she wasn’t sure she believed him.
He paused at a pile of rubble. Holly watched him sort through it until he found a short piece of jagged wood that had a sharp point at one end. Wordlessly, he handed it to Holly before approaching the front door.
It opened at his touch.
Holly stopped breathing as he put one foot over the threshold. Tossing her a grin, he stepped inside.
Her mouth dry, her knuckles white around the makeshift stake in her hand, she followed him inside.
“Stay behind me,” he said. “And stay close.”
She could hardly hear him over the rapid pounding of her heart.
They found the vampire in a small walk-in closet. She looked dead.
“You’re still against this, aren’t you?” Saintcrow said, a note of exasperation in his voice. “You’re as bad as Kadie.”
“I don’t know how you can do it, just kill her while she sleeps.”
“Would you rather I did it while she was awake?”
“Of course not! But . . .”
“I don’t relish doing this,” Saintcrow said quietly. “But she’s never going to give up, and frankly, I’m tired of playing the game.”
“Are you worried you can’t beat her in a fair fight?”
He snorted his disdain. “If that’s what you think, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m doing her a kindness by destroying her while she’s at rest. It’ll be quick and painless. She won’t feel a thing. But I’m a patient man, so I’ll leave it up to you, Holly Parrish. I can take her heart while she sleeps, or . . .”
He shoved Holly against the wall as Leticia Braga lunged to her feet. Teeth bared, fingers like claws, she attacked Saintcrow, all the while screeching at the top of her voice that he had killed the love of her life.
Holly was too stunned to scream, too terrified to move.
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