“What’s wrong?” she had asked, wondering why he didn’t come in.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t?” She had stared at him in confusion. “Why not?”
“You tell me.”
It had taken her a moment to realize what he meant, and then she remembered she had revoked her invitation. “You really can’t come in?”
He shook his head.
“How does that work? What keeps you out?”
“Thresholds have mystical power.”
“But all buildings have thresholds.”
“It’s only effective in homes, to protect the inhabitants. It doesn’t work in places of business, only where people live.”
“So, it’s like some invisible force field?”
“That’s as good an explanation as any.”
“Amazing.”
“So?”
She had grinned up at him. “Mr. Thorne, won’t you please come inside?”
Sky was still standing in the open doorway, bemused by the whole can’t-cross-the-threshold-without-an-invitation thing, when Kaiden walked up the porch steps.
“Waiting for me?” he asked with a wicked grin.
“No. Desmarais was just here.”
“What?” Lifting his head, Thorne took a deep breath. He had been so eager to see Sky, he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else.
“He couldn’t get in,” Sky said. “It was almost funny, watching him try.”
“Well, if he’d had a gun, you wouldn’t be laughing.”
That sobered her mighty quick. “I never thought of that,” Sky said, stepping aside so he could enter. “But why would he come here? I mean ...” She shivered. “If he’d gotten inside ...” She swallowed hard. She had no doubt he would have killed her on the spot.
“Exactly,” Thorne said. “You need to make sure who’s outside before you open the door.”
“Shouldn’t he have known he couldn’t get in without an invitation? I mean, you said he used to be a hunter.”
Thorne shrugged. “Sometimes fledglings, especially cocky ones, forget the rules. And sometimes they have to test the laws just to see if they really work.”
Like children always pushing the envelope, she thought, eager to see what they could get away with. Girard Desmarais was an old man in mortal years, but he was just a baby as a vampire.
Thorne followed Skylynn into the living room, the lingering odors of fried chicken and mashed potatoes tickling his nostrils. He was already forgetting how much he had enjoyed the taste of mortal food, how pleasurable it had been to savor the many tastes and textures, to drink something besides blood.
Skylynn sat on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap to stop their trembling. She couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened if she had hollered “come in” instead of going to open the door. She pushed the troubling thought aside. It hadn’t happened and there was no point in dwelling on it.
She took a deep breath. There was something she needed to know, the sooner the better.
Thorne sat beside Skylynn, his thigh brushing hers. One look at her face and he knew something was bothering her, something besides the close call with Desmarais. For a moment, he was tempted to read her mind, but he had promised not to, and so he waited.
“Kaiden ...” Pausing, she licked her lips. “What if ...” She took a deep breath, and said it all in a rush. “What if I’m pregnant? Will the baby be a vampire?”
He should have seen this coming, he thought, but it had been so long since he’d had to worry about fathering a child, it had never occurred to him to mention it.
She looked at him, her beautiful blue eyes filled with worry. “Would it have to have blood to survive? Would I have to keep it indoors during the day?”
“Skylynn ...” He scrubbed his palms up and down his thighs. “I can’t father a child.”
She stared at him, the worry in her eyes turning to pity. “Maybe a fertility clinic ... ?”
“It isn’t that.” Might as well get it out in the open, say it so she’d understand. Give her a chance to back out. “Vampires can’t reproduce,” he said flatly. “The dead can’t create life.”
The dead can’t create life.
She reeled back as though he had slapped her. Did he have to put it quite so bluntly? Was he deliberately trying to drive her away? Her gaze searched his and she realized what he was doing. He was giving her an out, a valid reason to change her mind before things went any further between them.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t know... . Did you have children, before?”
“No. I was too busy being a rakehell to think about getting married, let alone having children.” It was something he regretted, now that it was eternally too late to do anything about it. “If you want children, I’ll understand,” he said quietly. “I only want what’s best for you.”
“You’re what’s best for me. Don’t you know that?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t need anyone but you. Just you. Only you.”
“Sky.” Humbled by her love, he laid his cheek against her breast. What kind of selfish monster was he, to expect her to give up one of life’s greatest blessings just to be with him? And yet, after so many centuries alone, didn’t he deserve a few years of happiness? She was young. She would soon tire of sharing his bizarre lifestyle and when that happened, he would let her go. It would destroy him, but she would still be young enough to marry and have children, to watch those children grow up and have children of their own.
And perhaps, on quiet moonlit nights when she lay safe in her future husband’s arms, she would think back and fondly remember the monster who had loved her.
Chapter 27
As the miles slid past, the fever took over. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his fevered dreams filled with disjointed images of planes and tanks and roadside bombs, of buddies being blown to bits, of women sobbing and frightened children, of being afraid to close his eyes. Sometimes a woman was there, her hair and face covered, her bright blue eyes wide with terror as she ran and ran from a nameless, faceless enemy. And sometimes a tall, dark-haired man was there sporting realistic plastic fangs and red contacts that blazed like twin coals plucked from the bowels of an unforgiving hell.
He saw those eyes now, boring into him, penetrating his heart, piercing his very soul, heard a voice whispering in his ear.
“Wake up, soldier. You’re safe now. Wake up.”
He came awake with a harsh cry, the sound of his own heartbeat echoing like thunder in his ears.
“It’s all right, son.”
He blinked at the man bending over him. “Who are you? Where am I?”
“You’re in a hospital, here in the States.”
“I’m American?” He glanced around. The room was filled with beds. He saw several nurses moving from one patient to another, checking blood pressure here, taking a temperature there.
The man nodded. “I’m Dr. Wharton.” The doctor picked up a clipboard and pulled a pen from his coat pocket. “How are you feeling, Sam?”
“Sam?”
The doctor paused in the act of looking over the chart on his clipboard. “Your dog tags were missing when they found you, but according to the fingerprints on file, you’re Samuel Patrick McNamara.”
“If you say so.” He repeated the name in his mind but it had no meaning.
“You listed your sister, Skylynn O’Brien, as your next of kin. We tried to notify her, but the number listed in Chicago has been disconnected and there’s no new listing.”
Sam shrugged. So, they couldn’t find the sister he couldn’t remember. Big deal.
The doctor made a notation on his clipboard. “Do you remember anything that happened before you got here?”
Sam stared at him, then shook his head. “No.” His fingers curled around the blanket that covered him.
“It’s all right.” The doctor made another notation. “Just try to relax. Let the memories come back on their own. Don’t t
ry to force them.”
“What if my memory doesn’t come back?”
“Let’s not worry about that now,” the doctor said briskly. “From the looks of you, you’ve had it pretty rough. A little downtime will be good for you.”
“How did I get here?”
“I’m not sure of the details,” the doctor replied. “It’s all hush-hush, but from what I gather, the Iraqis traded you and several other men for one of their own. You were burning up with fever and suffering from severe head trauma by the time you got here.”
“Sam! Hey, Sam! Is that you?”
Sam looked past the doctor to see a tall, lanky, redhead grinning from ear to ear.
“Do I know you?” Sam asked.
“Are you kidding me? Hell, we trained together at Hood. Roger Boyle. Don’t you remember?” He held up his hand, two fingers crossed. “We were tight, man.”
Sam shook his head. “Sorry.”
Boyle hobbled closer to the bed. Only then did Sam notice that Boyle’s left pant leg was empty from the knee down.
“What’s his story, Doc?” Boyle asked, leaning on his crutch.
“I’d say retrograde amnesia, most likely caused by a severe blow to the head. But, all things considered, I’d say his odds of a full recovery are good.”
“When can I get out of here?” Sam asked.
“Soon. You’ve been discharged, due to your injuries. The paperwork should be here any day now,” the doctor said, “but I need to run a few more tests before you can go home. In the meantime, you take it easy, and I’ll see you in the morning.” With a nod, the doctor moved on to his next patient.
“That’s rough,” Boyle said, “not being able to remember who you are.”
“You said we were tight. Do you know anything about me?”
“Just that you lived with your grandfather in Vista Verde, California, and you have a married sister, Skylynn, who lives in Chicago. You drive a restored ’66 VW Bug and you’re hoping to be a mechanic when your tour’s up. You took a few college courses, worked at the local market before you enlisted. Does any of this ring a bell?”
Sam shook his head.
“Well, like the doc said, it might take some time.”
“Yeah,” Sam muttered. “Time.”
“Hang in there, buddy. I need to get off my feet.” Boyle grinned ruefully. “Foot.”
Sam nodded as he watched Boyle carefully make his way back to his own bunk at the other end of the room. All things considered, he guessed he’d rather have lost his memory than his leg.
Sam folded his arms beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. Sam. His name was Sam and he had a married sister, Skylynn. Was she older or younger? Did she have kids? Dammit, why couldn’t he remember?
Chapter 28
Thorne lay on his side, one elbow bent, his cheek resting on his hand as his gaze moved over Skylynn’s face. He had made love to her off and on all through the night. He ran his fingertips along the side of her neck. He needed to stop being so greedy, to remember that she didn’t have his strength or stamina. But making love to her was like an addiction he couldn’t shake. The more he held her, the more he kissed her, the more he wanted her.
He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but about a week ago, he’d fallen into the habit of spending the night at her house. It was the closest he’d come to having a normal life in centuries. He found himself liking the arrangement far more than was probably good for either of them.
She smiled in her sleep. Was she dreaming of him? It didn’t matter. Waking or sleeping, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It amazed him that, even knowing what he was, she loved him enough to give herself to him completely. He deserved neither her love nor her trust, not now, when the monster within him was fighting so hard to get out, when it was a struggle to keep his hellish thirst under control. When all he really wanted was to gather her into his embrace and drink and drink until there was nothing left.
With a growl, he sprang off the bed, his hands clenched at his sides as he turned his back to her. What madness had made him agree to stay with her when just being near him put her life in danger? And yet, how could he leave when Desmarais was sniffing around like a wolf on the scent of fresh blood? An apt description for all their kind, Thorne mused. Predators all, whether they killed or not. And those who spared the lives of their prey were rare indeed because the urge to kill, to take it all and leave nothing behind, was always there.
Why had Desmarais approached Skylynn? Was he still hoping to find the missing ingredient for the formula? Now that he was a vampire, that hardly seemed likely. Unless Desmarais knew it would allow him to walk in the daylight. Would Paddy have shared that information with Desmarais? And if not, then what was Desmarais after?
The answer came with such clarity, Kaiden was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him sooner. Desmarais was seeking revenge for his wife’s death. Cassandra had warned Desmarais of dire consequences if he destroyed Thorne. And if the monk couldn’t destroy him, what better way to avenge himself than by killing someone Thorne held dear?
The logic was inescapable.
Closing his eyes, Thorne forced himself to take several long, slow breaths. He would have to remain calm and clear-headed if he hoped to best Girard Desmarais. The man was nothing if not sly and resourceful. Add to that Desmarais’ fifty years of experience as a slayer and Desmarais was not a threat to be taken lightly.
Expelling a deep breath, Thorne slid back under the covers beside Skylynn and put his arm around her. She made a soft sleepy sound as she snuggled against him. He drew her closer, basking in the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin against his.
He ran his fingers lightly through her hair. Making love to Skylynn was the most incredible high he had ever known. It made him feel young again, truly alive again, and for that, he would forever be grateful.
“Kaiden?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re not going home, are you? I ...”
“What is it, love?”
“I don’t want to wake up alone.”
“Then I’ll be here.”
She snuggled against him and then she smiled. “Good. The curtains are closed, and I promise not to disturb you.”
He laughed softly as he hugged her tight. “You can do whatever you like, darlin’.”
“I love you,” she murmured. And then her eyelids fluttered down as sleep claimed her once again.
Lying there, with the scent of their heated lovemaking all around him, he vowed he would forfeit his existence and everything he possessed before he let anyone or anything hurt a hair of her head.
Skylynn woke slowly, reluctantly. She had been having such a delicious dream, she hated to see it end. In her dream, Kaiden had made love to her all night long. Never before had she felt so cherished, so loved. He had made her feel as if anything was possible, and maybe it was. He had tasted her during their lovemaking and in some way that she would never understand, he had given her access to his thoughts and feelings. It had magnified every touch they shared, enhanced every caress. It had been amazing, their minds and hearts and bodies merging so that they really had become one flesh.
With a sigh, she rolled over and opened her eyes. And he was there, the man who made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world. Remembering the night she had spent in his arms caused her stomach to curl with pleasure. He was so gorgeous, his body hard and sculpted with muscle, his face serene at rest. A male sleeping beauty. If only she could wake him with a kiss, she thought with a sigh, and then smiled. It was probably just as well that she couldn’t. She ached in places that had never ached before, but it was a wonderful kind of pain, a reminder of how thoroughly, how exquisitely, he had loved her. It was a night she would never forget, one she couldn’t wait to repeat.
Whispering, “I love you,” she kissed his cheek even though he couldn’t feel it. And then, with a low groan, she slid her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there a moment; then, tak
ing a deep breath, she headed into the bathroom for a hot shower.
Sky had just poured herself a cup of coffee when there was a knock at the door.
She froze a moment, remembering last night when Desmarais had come calling, and then laughed with a giddy sense of relief. The sun was up. It couldn’t be the vampire.
Still, Kaiden had warned her about opening the door without knowing who was on the other side. And he was right. Better to err on the side of caution.
Wishing she had a weapon, she went to the door. She peered through the peephole and then, with a cry, she turned the lock and opened the door.
For a minute, she just stood there, too stunned to speak, and then she threw her arms around him.
“Sam! Oh, Sam! I’ve been so worried about you.” She released him a moment and stood back so she could get a good look at him. He needed a shave, his hair was long and unkempt. He looked thinner, far older than his years.
Blinking back tears of joy, she wrapped her arms around him again. “I’m so glad you’re all right.” She hugged him tightly, then grabbed his hand, afraid if she let go, he might disappear again. “Come on in. We’ve got so much to talk about! I want to hear everything, where you’ve been, why I never heard from you.”
When he seemed reluctant to follow her, she tugged on his hand. Once inside, she shut the door, then headed for the kitchen, pulling Sam along behind her. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Slow down, lady,” he said, jerking his hand from hers. “Who are you?”
Sky turned to face him. “What?”
“Who are you?”
Skylynn blinked at him. “Are you kidding?” she asked, frowning. “It’s me, Sky”
“Skylynn, right. You’re my sister?”
“Yes, of course.” How could he not know her?
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