“Do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?” Erik asked.
“No, I’m not hungry. Are you?” she asked, then felt her cheeks grow hot.
“Are you offering?” he asked with a good-natured leer.
“No, sorry.”
Laughing, he held the door for her, then walked around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. He was still grinning when he pulled out of the driveway.
It was early and a Monday. The club was practically empty, which suited Daisy just fine. Erik ordered drinks, a margarita for her, the house special for himself.
Daisy stared at his glass when the drinks arrived. “What is that anyway?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“I think so.”
“It’s very expensive Madeira laced with a little blood.”
Was he kidding? She hoped so, but there was no humor in his expression. And then he lifted one brow. “Want a taste?”
“No, thank you!”
“Want to dance?”
As had happened once before, the jukebox came on when he took her hand in his and led her onto the empty dance floor. As had happened before, she forgot everything else when he took her into his arms and held her close. She wasn’t sure swaying back and forth, their bodies so close you couldn’t have put a piece of paper between them, qualified as dancing, but she didn’t care. She loved being this close to him. Loved the smell of his cologne, the way his hands dwarfed her own, the sense of power that clung to him, the touch of his lips in her hair. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in his nearness, in the bittersweet lyrics of A Fine Frenzy singing about someone who was an “Almost Lover.”
Oh, yes, she had it bad!
Time ceased to exist as they danced. As if in a dream, he whispered in her ear, his words warm and soft, relaxing her completely, so that when she felt the touch of his fangs at her throat, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
Erik knew a brief moment of guilt as he closed the tiny wounds in her neck. Had he been less honest, he could have lied to himself, told himself it wasn’t his fault. She was beautiful, irresistible, and he was only doing what came naturally. And it was partially true. She was beautiful. And he had done what came naturally because he had no desire to resist.
When the song ended, he willed another to start. The rest of the world drifted away and there was just the two of them, slow dancing to Fleetwood Mac singing “Beautiful Child.” Erik smiled inwardly. His Daisy was certainly a beautiful child, so young when compared to the centuries he had lived.
Later, he ordered her another drink, and then they danced again, this time to Fauxliage singing “Let It Go.” The lyrics seemed made for the two of them. Did Daisy want him as badly as he wanted her?
They stayed until closing time, and then he drove her home. After carrying her bags to the front door, he went back to retrieve the painting. After propping it beside her luggage, he drew Daisy into his arms.
“So, my little flower,” he murmured, “where do we go from here?” He could have forced her to surrender to him, to be his slave in any and every way he demanded, but he didn’t want to compel her to care for him. He wanted her affection, freely given.
“What do you mean?” Daisy asked, though she knew exactly what he meant.
“Even though I know it’s not a good move for either one of us, I’d like to see you again, get to know you better.”
“You’re right. It isn’t a good idea.”
“Is that a no?”
She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Why ask for trouble? I know you’re attracted to me, and I have to admit, I’m attracted to you, too, but what’s the point? There’s no future for us. You must know that.”
“There could be.”
It was tempting. He was tempting, with his silky black hair and smoldering ebony eyes. She felt herself weakening, wanting. Wanting to sit on his lap and feel his arms around her. Wanting to taste his mouth devouring hers, wanting to touch him, to kiss and taste and explore every masculine inch.
“Why don’t you give us a chance?” he asked in that soft, honeyed voice that sent shivers of delight down her spine. “What have you got to lose?”
What did she have to lose? Her life, for starters.
“I’m not a young vampire,” Erik said quietly. “I won’t hurt you. The scent of your blood doesn’t enflame my senses beyond control. I won’t take anything you don’t want to give.” He gazed deeply into her eyes. “I think I’m in love with you.”
Of all the things he might have said, that was the last thing Daisy had expected to hear. “But…that’s impossible. I mean, we hardly know each other.” She stared up into his eyes. “Haven’t you forgotten something? I’m the Blood Thief…”
“And I’m a vampire,” he said.
And that said it all.
“So you see,” Daisy said, blinking back the sting of tears. “There’s just no way it will work.”
“You’re sure?”
She gazed up at him, mute. She couldn’t be in love with a vampire. In her family, it simply wasn’t done. She was an O’Donnell. They hunted vampires. Her father and her brother Alex destroyed vampires for a living. Her younger brother, Brandon, didn’t have the stomach for killing, so he earned his living the same way she did, by selling the blood of the Undead at two hundred bucks a pop. And since you only needed a very small amount for the desired high, a pint or two of vampire blood went a very long way.
“Daisy?”
He was waiting for her answer, but she had no answer to give as cold logic warred with her growing desire.
She jumped when the front door opened behind her.
“Hey, Daisy Mae, it’s about time you got home.”
“Alex!” Daisy stared at her brother in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, can’t a guy come to see his little sister once in a while?” Alex’s gaze settled on Erik, an unspoken question in his eyes.
“Alex, this is Erik Delacourt. Erik, this is my older brother, Alex.”
The two men eyed each other warily for a moment; then, at a look from Daisy, Alex stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Erik nodded as he shook the other man’s hand.
Daisy glanced from Erik to her brother and back again, her heart beating wildly as vampire and vampire hunter continued to size each other up. Inviting Erik inside was the polite thing to do, but all things considered, it really didn’t seem like a good idea.
Erik took the dilemma out of her hands. “I’ll say good night, Daisy. I’m sure you and your brother have a lot of catching up to do.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you around.”
Speechless, she watched him get into his car and drive away.
“So, who’s that guy?” Alex asked.
“Just a friend.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Bring my bags in, will you?” Without waiting for an answer, she went out onto the porch and picked up her painting, and then swept past him.
Returning to the living room, Daisy propped the painting on the mantel. She admired it for several moments, hardly able to believe it was really hers, and then turned to face her brother.
Alex dropped her bags beside the sofa, then jerked his chin toward the picture. “Where’d you get that?”
“From Erik. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s all right, if you like that kind of thing.”
“I do. Erik painted it.”
“You’re kidding. He doesn’t look like an artist to me.”
“Well, he is. What are you really doing here?”
Alex shrugged as he glanced around the room. “Dad was worried about you.”
Daisy groaned softly. She never should have called home after destroying Saul.
“Mom, too,” Alex said. “She wants you to come home—”
“And meet Mr. Right. Yes, I know.”
Alex dropped onto the sofa and picked up the remote. “Well, I do
n’t know about that, but I know she wants you to move back home. Permanently. She thinks it’s too dangerous for you to be out here alone. And after seeing that guy…that artist you’re hanging out with, I think she’s right.”
Sitting on the sofa, Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and counted to ten. “What’s wrong with him?”
Alex fixed her with a hard look. “Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was a vampire.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Where’d you meet him?”
“At a nightclub, not that it’s any of your business.”
“How long have you been dating?”
“We’re not ‘dating.’”
“No?” Alex glanced pointedly at her luggage. “Then what are you doing?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. And what I’m ‘doing’ is no concern of yours.”
“I’d like to argue with you some more,” Alex said, smothering a yawn, “but I’m beat. I made myself at home in the guest room. Hope you don’t mind.”
“A little late to be asking, don’t you think?”
He grinned at her. “That’s why I didn’t ask.”
“Alex…?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you destroy a vampire and her mortal lover here in LA?”
“Yeah, how’d you know about it?”
She shrugged. “That kind of news travels fast, you know that. You were careful, weren’t you?”
“I’m always careful,” he said with a wink. “See you in the morning, little sister. Oh, and I’d like eggs, bacon, and French toast for breakfast.”
“Have whatever you want. The frying pan is in the drawer under the stove.”
“Very funny.” Whistling softly, he headed down the hall toward the guest room.
Daisy stared after him. Her domineering big brother was one complication she definitely didn’t need in her life right now. She chewed on her thumbnail. She should have warned Alex that Rhys had his scent, but then Alex would start asking questions she didn’t want to answer. Questions she couldn’t answer unless she wanted Alex to know that Erik was indeed a vampire, just as he suspected.
Yawning, she grabbed the smaller of her two suitcases and carried it up to her bedroom. Maybe things would look better in the morning, she thought as she unpacked her nightgown and got ready for bed.
And maybe not.
Chapter 15
Rhys prowled the dark underbelly of the city. Though he no longer needed to feed as often as he once had, he was addicted to the chase. Life didn’t hold much excitement for a man who had lived as long as he had, but hunting…ah, that never grew old. He chose a different kind of prey for each hunt—one week he might decide to stalk only blondes, the next week, only brunettes. Another week he might prey on nothing but young males, then on females. He could be as discriminating as he chose.
Tonight, he was hunting only women between the ages of twenty and thirty who had black hair and blue eyes and who were exactly five feet tall. Thus far, he hadn’t had much luck.
He was thinking he would have to redefine his search when Erik appeared beside him.
“What brings you here?” Rhys asked, unable to completely mask his surprise. All of the West Coast vampires had their own hunting grounds. Trespassing on another’s territory was forbidden and had, on occasion, led to bloodshed.
“I felt the need of some company,” Erik said, falling into step beside the other vampire. “What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Black-haired females with blue eyes.”
Erik grunted softly. “Any luck?”
“Not yet.” Rhys lifted his head, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of prey. “But I think my luck’s about to change.”
“She’s blond,” Erik said. “A streetwalker. And very young.”
“And how would you know that?” Rhys asked, his eyes sparking red with anticipation.
“I passed her on my way here.”
Muttering, “All cats are gray in the dark,” Rhys moved quickly down the street.
With a shake of his head, Erik followed him, though at a slower pace. Coming here had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…he swore softly, thinking that Daisy’s brother couldn’t have shown up at a worse time.
His hunger stirred as the scent of blood drifted on the wind. Up ahead, he could see Rhys standing in the shadows, his head bent over the neck of the blond hooker. Apparently the Master of the City wasn’t averse to altering the cuisine he had chosen for the night.
Rhys looked up as Erik approached. A vampire caught in the midst of feeding was rarely a pretty sight, and Rhys was no exception. Blood dripped from his fangs; his eyes burned red. He growled softly, warning Erik to stay away.
Erik took a step backward. Folding his arms across his chest, he watched Rhys drink his fill and in so doing, Erik understood why he was there. It was to remind himself of what he was, what he was capable of.
While watching Rhys feed, Erik knew Daisy had been right.
There could be no future for the two of them.
Chapter 16
Daisy awoke on Monday morning to the deliciously mingled aromas of fresh-brewed coffee and frying bacon. She frowned, momentarily disoriented. This wasn’t her bedroom at Erik’s, she thought groggily, and then remembered that she was home and that it had to be Alex, cooking in the kitchen.
Muttering under her breath, she headed for the shower, wondering how long Alex intended to stay, and how she could persuade him to leave sooner if he was planning to stay more than a day or two.
After pulling on a pair of faded jeans and a blue Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, she padded barefoot to the kitchen door. Pausing a moment, she took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and entered the room.
“Hey, good morning, sleepyhead,” Alex greeted her cheerfully as she stepped into the room. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so…” He gestured toward the stove. “I made a little of everything. You take what you want, and I’ll eat the rest.”
Daisy glanced at the counter and shook her head. He had made a little of everything, all right. There were plates of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes, waffles, buttered toast, and a ham and cheese quiche.
“Alex, there’s enough food here to feed a family of six.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. Do you want coffee, milk, tea, juice, or hot chocolate?”
Realizing there was no point in arguing, Daisy sat at the table. “Juice and coffee will be fine.”
Alex carried all the plates to the table, then slid onto the chair across from hers. “Dig in, sis.”
Daisy helped herself to a couple of pancakes, two strips of bacon, and a helping of scrambled eggs. “You really are a good cook,” she remarked. “If you ever get tired of taking heads, you could probably open a restaurant.”
Alex snorted softly. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Where’s the fun in taking heads?”
“It’s not in the taking,” Alex said, speaking around a mouthful of eggs. “It’s in the hunting. You know how it is, the way your mouth goes dry and your heart beats with excitement…”
“With fear, you mean.”
“Fear, excitement, whatever it is, it makes you know you’re alive.”
“So, you’ve never thought of doing anything else?”
“No,” Alex said, looking surprised. “Why? Have you?”
Daisy shrugged. She had considered finding another line of work from time to time. Since destroying Saul, she’d been thinking of it even more, but she was reluctant to admit it, especially to her gung-ho brother.
“It’s because of that vampire you killed, isn’t it?”
“In a way. It made me feel good, knowing I could defend myself if I had to, but…” She pushed her plate away, her appetite suddenly gone. “I killed a man…”
“He wasn’t a man,” Alex said curtly. “He was a vampire.”
“Well, he was a man once,” Daisy insisted
. “If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be alive or undead, or…” She threw up her hands. “The point is, I killed him.”
“Listen, Daisy, vampires aren’t human any longer. You know that. And you can’t kill them. They’re already dead, remember? The only reason they aren’t fish-belly white and six feet under is because they exist on our blood.”
“And I sell theirs!”
Sitting back in his chair, Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, Daisy Mae, what’s this all about?”
Daisy glared at him. Even though it was a long-standing joke between them, she hated it when he called her Daisy Mae. Usually, she reciprocated by calling him Little Abner, but this morning, she wasn’t in the mood for levity.
“Daisy?”
She couldn’t tell him the truth, of course; she couldn’t tell her brother that it was her feelings for Erik that were making her doubt her chosen line of work.
“Does this have anything to do with that guy that was here last night? That artist?”
“Of course not.” Using her fork, she pushed the eggs around on her plate, careful not to meet her brother’s eyes. “Why would it?”
“I don’t know.” Alex leaned forward, his arms folded on the table, his brow furrowed. “You tell me.”
“I’m not like you,” Daisy said. “I can’t kill someone, destroy someone, and tell myself it doesn’t matter. Taking their blood…” She shrugged. “It seemed like a bizarre game at first, finding their lairs, sneaking in, stealing their blood, leaving without a trace. But now…now it just seems wrong.”
“They kill us, Daisy,” Alex said quietly. “They don’t just take our blood. They take the lives of innocent men, women, and children. We aren’t people to them, we’re prey. They’re all monsters, and the worst of them lives right here, in LA.”
Daisy’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?” she asked, praying he wasn’t talking about Erik.
“The Master of the City,” Alex said. “Rhys Costain.”
Relief washed over Daisy. “Is he the reason you’re here?” she asked, careful to keep her voice and her expression impassive.
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