Night's Mistress (Children of the Night)

by Ashley, Amanda

  She was pregnant. It had never occurred to her to ask Kyle to take precautions, but why would it? Vampires couldn’t reproduce. Everyone knew that. Only, she wasn’t a true vampire anymore.

  She went inside, careful to lock the door behind her. Fear was a new emotion, one she instantly despised. But she was safe in her house. She had never invited any of the Undead into this place. As long as she stayed inside at night, she would be safe from most of the vampire community. To her knowledge, there was only a handful of vampires who were old enough and strong enough to endure the sun’s light. She didn’t think she had anything to fear from Roshan’s family, but what if there were others who could walk in the daylight that she didn’t know about? Secrets were hard to maintain in the vampire community, but not impossible. Gossip spread like wildfire. She didn’t know how many of her enemies still existed. If any of them learned of her vulnerability, she would be helpless to defend herself.

  Maybe she was worrying for nothing. Maybe she wasn’t losing her powers. Going into the living room, she stood in front of the hearth and willed the fire to light. Nothing happened.

  She closed her eyes and tried to find her link to Rane. Nothing. It was the same with Rafe and Vince and Roshan. She didn’t know why her failures surprised her. If she could no longer feel her bond to Logan, a connection that was older and stronger than her bond to any of the others of her kind, then it was a safe bet that her link to the Cordova family had vanished, as well.

  She tried to dissolve into mist, only to blink back tears of bitter frustration when nothing happened.

  Going to the window, she stared out into the night. Without her preternatural powers, the world seemed dull and quiet. As a vampire, she had seen colors and textures clearly. Day or night, it didn’t matter, the world had been bright, the colors vibrant and alive. Once, she had been able to hear the flutter of a moth’s wings, the stirring of birds in their nests, but no more. She felt empty, adrift, cut off from all that had once been familiar.

  Mortal, she thought. I’m a pregnant mortal woman with no family, and no one I dare trust, including the baby’s father!

  Sinking down on the floor, she folded her arms over her belly and rocked back and forth. If only she had never revealed her true nature to Kyle. She could have stayed with him until the baby was born, and then, with him none the wiser as to her true nature, she could have moved on and left him to raise the baby. Kyle was a good man, strong yet gentle. He would have made a good father.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes. Maybe it would still work. If he had truly loved her, he would be happy that she was now mortal, she thought, and then frowned. Maybe without her vampire allure, he would look at her and feel nothing at all.

  She remembered the way he had stared at her when she’d told him what she was, the revulsion in his eyes when she revealed her true nature. Did she want to bind herself to a man who had looked at her like that? Would she ever feel safe with him? Would he even consider caring for a child he had created with a woman he thought of as a monster, a child that might be half vampire?

  A baby . . . She moaned in despair.

  What was she going to do with a baby?

  Chapter Nine

  It took Kyle three weeks to find a vampire hunter. It would have taken a lot less time if he had just looked online, but he was an artist, not a computer geek, and searching the Web hadn’t occurred to him until he had exhausted all other search avenues.

  The hunter agreed to meet him at his place the following night. The doorbell rang at seven o’clock sharp.

  “Right on time,” Kyle murmured as he opened the door.

  Kyle wasn’t sure what a vampire hunter should look like, but he had never expected a woman. Especially a woman who stood five-foot-nothing, with pale blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a beguiling dimple in her right cheek.

  “You’re the hunter?” He doubted if she weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet.

  “Lou McDonald at your service, Mr. Bowden. May I come in?”

  He blinked at her. Clad in a pair of loose-fitting gray trousers and a bulky white sweater, she looked completely harmless. “You’re Lou?”

  “Short for Louise.” She lifted one brow. “May I come in?”

  “What? Oh, sure.” He stepped back so she could enter the apartment, then closed the door behind her. “Make yourself at home.”

  She glanced around the room before taking a seat on the sofa. He wondered what she’d expected to find, then decided that, considering her line of work, she was probably just naturally cautious.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Coffee? Tea? Soda?”

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  Kyle sat in the overstuffed chair across from the sofa. This had to be a joke. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old.

  Lou reached into her bag and withdrew a small red notebook and a pen. “You said you’re looking for a vampire. I’ll need a name, if you have it.”

  “Mara.”

  Lou’s eyes widened. “Mara? You don’t mean the one they call the Queen of the Vampires?”

  Kyle stared at the hunter. Queen of the Vampires? Was she kidding? “Do you know her?”

  “I know of her. Why are you looking for her?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  He rubbed a hand across his jaw, suddenly conscious of the fact that he hadn’t shaved in days. “Last time I saw her, she was in Oregon. How old are you?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I’ll be twenty-nine next month.”

  “How long have you been a hunter?”

  “Ten years. I’ve made twenty-eight confirmed kills, and I don’t come cheap.”

  “I was expecting someone a little older and more experienced . . . a little more . . .”

  “You were expecting some kind of big macho man,” she said dryly, “just like everyone else.”

  “That’s why you list yourself as Lou, isn’t it? So people will think you’re a man.”

  She didn’t deny it.

  “Can you find Mara?”

  “I won’t know until I try.”

  “I don’t want her dead.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t want her dead. I just want you to find her.”

  “I’m not a private eye, Mr. Bowden, I’m a hunter. I hunt vampires and I destroy them.”

  “I’m willing to make it worth your while. Anyway, from what I hear, she can’t be destroyed.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that, too,” Lou replied. “But every living thing can be killed, one way or another.”

  “I thought vampires were already dead.”

  “Dead or destroyed, it means the same thing. No more vampire.”

  “Yeah, well, like I said, I want her alive. So if you want to work for me, it’ll have to be on my terms.”

  “Very well, but it will cost you double my usual rate, and I’ll be wanting half up front.”

  Kyle nodded. “All right.”

  She held out her hand. “Looks like we have a deal.”

  Chapter Ten

  Four weeks had passed since Mara’s first visit to the doctor. Her nausea had passed, and now she was hungry all the time, but instead of craving blood, she was craving the oddest things, like potato chips and pizza. And chocolate—the darker, the better. She couldn’t seem to get enough of it, had never tasted anything so wonderful. She loved the way it melted on her tongue, the almost sinful pleasure it gave her.

  She looked up when Logan entered the living room. “The word on the street is that someone is looking for you,” he said, sitting beside her. “I think you’d better stay here, with me, from now on.”

  “Do you know who’s looking for me?” She popped another dark chocolate truffle into her mouth.

  “I couldn’t begin to guess. What about you? Any ideas?”

  “No, it could be anybody.” During the War, she had made
enemies among the werewolves as well as the Undead. None of them would spare her just because she was pregnant. Of course, she had made a lot of other enemies in centuries past. Who knew how many of them were still carrying a grudge?

  “Ramsden called me last night,” Logan said. “He wanted your phone number. Said he needed to reschedule your appointment.”

  “I’m not going back there. I’m not sure I trust him.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mara,” he said patiently, “you need to see a doctor. All things considered, we agreed a vampire doctor would be the best.”

  “I think I’ll go to a mortal physician from now on,” she said, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to put herself through another pelvic examination. And then she frowned. If a routine exam was so embarrassing and uncomfortable, how would she ever endure childbirth?

  “What do you think about staying here, with me?” Logan asked. A muscle throbbed in his jaw when she didn’t say anything. “Or don’t you trust me, either?” he asked, his voice tight.

  “If I stay here with you, it’s like admitting that I’m afraid.”

  “You are afraid! I can smell it on you.”

  “Oh, I hate this!” She didn’t understand how it had happened, and happened so quickly. It just wasn’t fair. She ate another truffle. These days, nothing was quite as comforting as rich, dark chocolate.

  Logan frowned at her as she licked a bit of chocolate from her lower lip. “You look like you’re having great sex,” he muttered.

  Mara grinned. “I heard a woman on a talk show remark that good chocolate was better than sex.”

  Logan quirked a brow at her. “Is it?”

  Mara licked the last bit of candy from her fingers. “Try it for yourself and see.” She unwrapped another truffle and offered it to him.

  Logan eyed it the way Adam must have looked at the apple; then, remembering what had happened the last time he partook of human food, he shook his head. “No, thanks. Once was enough.”

  Unable to help herself, Mara burst out laughing.

  “Think it’s funny, do you?” he asked with a growl.

  Impulsively taking him by the hand, she led him into the bedroom. She might be losing her preternatural abilities, but she had powers of her own that had nothing to do with the supernatural—feminine wiles as old as Eve’s. She pushed Logan toward the bed until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he sat down, and then she began to move. She had once danced for Pharaoh; now she danced for Logan, her body dipping and swaying slowly and provocatively to music only she could hear.

  He whistled softly as she began to undress, each move sensually tantalizing as she removed one piece of clothing after another, each inch of bared flesh more provocative than the last, until she stood naked before him, a goddess clothed in mortality.

  “Beautiful,” Logan murmured. He held out his arms in invitation, eager to touch her, to run his hands over her alabaster skin, to nuzzle her breasts, to bury himself in her warmth.

  Instead of moving into his embrace, she crossed her arms. “Now you.”

  “What?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t expect me to do a striptease, do you?”

  “Why not?” She closed the distance between them and ran her fingertips down his cheek. “I did.”

  “Mara . . .”

  She retreated when he reached for her. “Don’t tell me you’re shy?”

  “Maybe.” His voice was a low growl of frustration.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “If you want me naked, you’ll have to undress me.”

  She canted her head to the side, a seductive smile teasing her lips. “Think I won’t?”

  “I’m hoping you will,” he said, his dark eyes filled with mischief.

  “Are you going to help me?”

  “Nope.” He flopped back on the bed, his arms outstretched. “How much do you want me?”

  She climbed on the bed and straddled his hips. “How much do you want me?” It was a foolish question. His desire was readily apparent.

  He laughed softly. “Are we making a contest out of this? ’Cause you’re not really dressed for a fight.”

  “And you’re over-dressed.” Taking hold of the hem of his sweater, she eased it up, revealing a hard, flat belly. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt and as she lifted his sweater higher, she rained kisses on each inch of newly exposed skin.

  After tossing his sweater aside, her hands made quick work of his belt buckle. She tossed his belt on the floor, along with his shoes and socks, and after gaining her feet, she stood at the end of the bed and slowly tugged his trousers off and flung them aside. The black briefs he wore did little to hide his erection.

  “You’re quick,” he said with a grin.

  “And you’re horny,” she remarked as she relieved him of his briefs. “Now we’re even.”

  “You think so?” In a blur of movement, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. Falling back on the bed once more, he rolled over, carrying her with him, so that she lay beneath him. “What are you gonna do now?”

  “Anything I want,” she murmured, and locking her hands behind his neck, she drew his head down and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that left both of them breathless.

  She ran her hands over his face, his shoulders, his chest, his taut buttocks, and each caress reminded her of days gone by, of endless nights of lovemaking along the banks of the Nile. She hadn’t intended for things to go this far. She was in love with Kyle. But what had started out as a little harmless flirting with an old flame had quickly gotten out of hand. She knew she should tell Logan to go, but, somehow, she couldn’t summon the words. It felt good to be in his arms, like returning home after a long vacation.

  He murmured to her in his native tongue, making her wonder if he, too, was recalling those halcyon days gone by. She moaned softly as his hands worked their familiar magic, cried his name as the tension built deep within her, built until she thought she would explode with need, until, thrusting deep, he brought her to fulfillment.

  Sated, she closed her eyes, but he wasn’t done with her yet. Holding back his own release, he aroused her again, more slowly this time. Her nails raked his back as she writhed beneath him, mindless with wanting. Her skin was slick with perspiration, her body arching upward as he continued to move deep within her, his own climax coming quickly on the heels of her own. Breathless, she lay spent beneath him, trembling with little aftershocks of pleasure as he held her close.

  “So,” he said, his voice a low rumble in her ear, “do you still think good chocolate is better than great sex?”

  Later, after they had showered and dressed, Logan again brought up the subject of her moving in with him.

  “This is a big place,” he said. “You can have your pick of the bedrooms. Hell, you’ll have the whole house to yourself during the day.”

  He was very persuasive. Staying here was tempting, so very tempting. Living with Logan wouldn’t be a hardship. He had a house that was even bigger than her own, with a lovely view, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a Jacuzzi. Best of all, she enjoyed his company. Still, if she agreed to move in with him, she wasn’t just admitting she was afraid, she was surrendering a portion of her free will. The thought rankled.

  “If you won’t come here,” Logan remarked, playing his ace in the hole, “then I’m moving in with you.”

  “You can’t come into my house unless you’re invited.”

  He lifted one brow. “Can’t I?”

  She stared at him uncertainly. Thresholds had a mystical power of their own. They repelled vampires and other supernatural creatures. Had Logan found a way to nullify that power?

  “The bond between us may be broken, Mara, but you’re forgetting one thing. I’m still a vampire.”

  The threat was clear. If she refused to move in with him, or refused to allow him to move in with her, he could forcibly bend her will to his. Without her supernatural powe
rs, there was nothing she could do to stop him. She probably wouldn’t even be aware of it. Not only that, but he had tasted her blood, which meant that no matter where she went, he would always be able to find her, a power she had once used to her own advantage without wondering or caring what mortals thought about her invading their privacy.

  “You’re not playing fair,” she said petulantly.

  Logan shrugged. “You know what they say about love and war.”

  “Are we at war?”

  He trailed one finger down her cheek. “No, darlin’, but one of us is in love.”

  She had no answer for that. She cared for Logan deeply, but she wasn’t in love with him. And then, in the back of her mind, came that troubling question again: Was she?

  Knowing Logan wouldn’t relent, Mara agreed to move into his house, at least until the baby was born.

  Logan did his best not to look smug, but he failed miserably. It made her want to smack him.

  The following evening, Logan arrived at her house with a small moving van. “I would have hired someone to help out, but the fewer people who see you, the better.”

  With Logan’s supernatural strength, there really wasn’t any need for help. In addition to her suitcases, he easily managed the few large items she wanted to take with her.

  Two hours later, Mara had settled into the upstairs master bedroom in Logan’s house. It was a spacious room, but it was definitely masculine, from the heavy dark furniture to the gray walls and carpeting. She blew out a sigh as she opened one of her suitcases. The room was nice but not to her liking.

  Logan stood in the doorway, watching her unpack. “So, what color are you going to paint it?”

  Mara looked up. “What?”

  “The room. What color are you going to paint it?”

  “Are you serious? You’ll just have to paint it again when I leave.”

  He shrugged. “The colors don’t suit you.” She was never meant for insipid shades of gray. “I’ll run down to the paint store and get some samples while you unpack.”