by Cynthia Eden
He walked up behind her, and she glanced at him, stunned. “I can see you,” she murmured.
A dark brow lifted.
“In the mirror. I can see you.”
He smiled. “Of course you can. Why wouldn’t you be able to see me?”
“But . . . the legend says . . .”
He shook his dark head and bent to inspect her small wounds. “Forget the legend. Only half of it is true.” He frowned. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Surprised, she stared at him.
His jaw clenched. “Despite what you think, I really don’t enjoy hurting people.”
She felt a hot blush hit her cheeks. He wasn’t what she’d expected. In reality, she’d expected to be disgusted by him. Repulsed. After all, he was a killer, a vampire.
But when he’d touched her in the alley, she hadn’t felt repulsed. She’d felt . . . desire.
When he’d kissed her, when he’d touched her, a fire had burned deep within her body. Despite all reason, she’d wanted him. She hadn’t cared about where they were or who might see them. She hadn’t cared about the dirt on the walls or the garbage on the ground. William was all she’d thought about.
And that knowledge shamed her to the depths of her being.
She had a promise to keep. She couldn’t forget her vow, not for a moment.
“You’ve given me the first bite,” she murmured, turning to face him, locking her gaze upon his. “Will you give me the other two?” She knew it took three bites to convert a human. Three bites and then a mixing of the blood.
“No.” His voice was clipped. He moved away from her, heading toward the open balcony doors.
Savannah followed on his heels. “What do you mean, ‘no?’” You have to!”
He stepped slowly onto the balcony, tilting his head back and staring up at the brilliant full moon. “I don’t have to do anything.” A warning.
A shiver skated up Savannah’s spine at the steel laced in his tone. But she refused to back down. “Why did you give me the first bite if you didn’t intend to transform me?” Her hands clenched into angry fists.
He turned to face her, and the moonlight seemed to shine in the depths of his eyes. “I wanted to taste you,” he whispered, his voice a sensual purr. “I had to taste you.”
She swallowed. She hadn’t been expecting that answer.
Her surprise must have shown because a mask of anger swept across his face. “I can feel, Savannah. I can want, I can need, just like any man.”
“But you’re not a man,” she blurted. He was more. So much more.
“Yet I have a man’s needs.” His eyes drifted slowly down her body, lingering on the rounded curves of her breasts and hips. “A man’s desires.”
Heat pooled low in her belly. Her breath hitched.
He stepped toward her and lifted his hand to gently cup her cheek. “I want, just like any other man.” His jaw clenched. “And I have found that I want you, very badly.”
“So that’s why you bit me,” she concluded softly, her voice husky and quiet in the dying night. “Because you wanted me.” The idea left her shaken.
William’s hand dropped from her face. She suddenly felt very cold without his touch.
He walked to the edge of the balcony and stared down at the mountainside. “My wants, my needs, can be deadly.”
“Not to me,” she rushed to reassure him.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Especially to you. And I am not willing to take the chance that I might put you in danger. I want you to leave at first light.”
She moved to stand beside him. “I’m not leaving.”
“You must!” He snarled, turning on her like a cornered animal. “If you stay, I’ll take you. I need you like I’ve never needed anyone else in all my years of existence. I hunger for you. For your blood. For your body. For your very life.”
Savannah lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you. Or of what you might do to me.” She didn’t have room in her heart for fear.
“I’ll kill you,” he said, his voice a tortured whisper. “I kill everyone who gets close to me.”
“Then transform me. If you are so worried about me, then change me! Make me immortal!”
His face was a haggard mask. “You want me to condemn you to a life of darkness? Of endless hunger and death? Of loneliness? Because if you become like me, that is what you will get.”
She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. It was time to lay her cards on the table. There was no choice. It was time for the truth. “And if I don’t become like you, I’ll die.”
William froze. “What?” His eyes flashed fire.
“You heard me.” Her words trembled faintly. “I’ll die.” She shook her head. “Why do you think I came to you? Why do you think I spent all of that time researching you? I’m dying, William. And your kiss is the only thing that can help me.”
He grabbed her by the arms. “You’re dying?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “The doctors say that I have six months, if I’m lucky.”
“And if you’re not?” His scar was a vivid white against his skin.
“Two months.”
He swore viciously and closed his eyes.
“So, you see, I don’t have anything to lose.” She had to make him understand, had to make him listen. He must give her the kiss!
His eyes opened slowly and he stared down at her, his expression fierce. “What’s wrong with you?”
She rubbed her throbbing temple with a tired hand. What wasn’t wrong with her? She couldn’t remember what it was like to feel healthy, strong. She’d spent the last five years of her life in and out of hospitals. Going through endless exams. Endless treatments. Nothing had helped her. Nothing could help her.
“I have a brain tumor.” Her voice was perfectly calm. She’d gotten used to telling people. Her stomach didn’t clench anymore. Her hands didn’t shake.
“Surely the doctors can—”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing they can do. They tried. Believe me, they tried, but . . .” She shrugged.
His eyes seemed to burn down at her. His face was like carved stone. Had her words affected him? Would he help her now?
“You understand, don’t you? You understand why I must have the kiss?” She waited, hope flickering through her heart.
He turned from her and stared into the night. “No, I don’t understand.” He paused, seemingly lost in thought.”You said you didn’t have anything else to lose. You’re wrong. You still have your soul.”
Unlike Savannah, William had lost his soul long ago. The moment Henry had taken his last, shuddering breath. The moment the blood had stopped flowing from the gaping hole in his chest, William’s soul had died.
And he just couldn’t bring himself to destroy Savannah’s soul.
“So you’re going to let me die?” Her voice was sharp, angry.
William felt his throat tighten at her words. Let her die? He shuddered at the thought. She had such strength, such passion within her.
He moved quickly, turning to capture her against his chest. “I’ll help you. I’m rich. I can send you to the best doctor in the country—”
Her eyes flashed. “Didn’t you hear me? The doctors can’t help me! I’m dying, William. I will be dead before the year is out.”
William knew that doctors could perform miracles these days. It wasn’t like it had been in his time. Sickness could be cured. “With the right care—”
She laughed savagely. “The right care? They cut into my brain. They shaved my head, and they cut into my brain. Then they told me I was saved. That the cancer was gone.” She took a deep breath. “Within two years, the tumor was back. And it was bigger than before. They made me endure their tes
ts again. The therapy. The shots. Nothing worked. Nothing.” She looked deeply into his eyes. “The doctors can’t help me. Only you can.”
His jaw clenched against the pain he heard in her voice. Against the images her words aroused in his mind.
“Please.” A whisper of sound. “Help me.”
The moonlight caressed her skin, illuminating the two tears that trickled gently down her cheeks. He caught the tears on his fingers, stared wonderingly at them.
Savannah grabbed his hand. “William—please.”
She looked so beautiful in the moonlight. So pure. So alive.
Could he really just stand back and watch death take her?
Her gaze beseeched him, a silent echo to her plea. Her firm breasts pressed against his chest. The warmth from her body reached out to him, wrapped around him. The delicate scent of lavender rose once more to tease his nostrils.
“Please. I will do anything you want . . .”
His body stiffened as lust tore through him. “Be careful what you offer, sweet Savannah.”
She shook her head and pressed ever closer to him. “No, name your price. If I have it, I’ll give it to you, I swear!”
Need and hunger battled against his judgment.
“Anything,” she whispered, her voice desperate.
“Why? Why, Savannah?”
She bit her lip and her lashes fell, cloaking her gaze from him. “Because of Mark.”
“Who is Mark?” William asked softly, as an unfamiliar rage swept through him. “Your lover?” The words were a growl, and he knew his gaze pierced her.
“A dead man.”
William frowned.
Savannah pulled away from William and rubbed her arms, telling herself that the chill she felt was caused by the night air and not the memory of her brother. “He’s been gone almost a year now.”
“I’m sorry.” William’s voice was solemn. “Death is never easy.”
And he would know. Savannah nodded, accepting his sympathy. For months after Mark’s death, she’d hated the empty words that her friends gave her. The empty condolences. They hadn’t understood what she was going through. They hadn’t understood what she felt.
He understood. She knew it. William understood her loss.
“What happened to him?”
“He was . . . killed.” A scream echoed in her mind, and a flash of blood filled her vision.
William’s gaze was intense. The moonlight seemed to reflect in his eyes and shine back at her. “How was he killed?”
She took a deep breath. “A vampire killed him. Him and his wife.” They’d only been married for a little over a year. They’d gone to the family cabin in the woods, planning to have a nice, romantic weekend getaway.
“How do you know it was a vampire?”
“Mark and I were twins. We always had a special connection. And, when the second tumor came, something happened to me. It . . . changed me. Changed my mind. After that, Mark and I weren’t just close emotionally, we were—” She broke off, not certain how to explain. “Sometimes, I could read his thoughts. Share his dreams. We were connected. More connected than I’ve ever been to another person.” At first, the connection had been frightening, overwhelming. But, then, with each day that passed, she’d grown more accustomed to the feeling of sharing another’s mind, another’s thoughts.
William nodded once, accepting her words. “Were you connected to him the night that he died?”
She swallowed and looked down at her hands. They were clenched into tight fists. “I thought it was just a nightmare. I could see him, I could see Sharon, and they looked so happy.” When she closed her eyes, she could still see them sitting by the fire, laughing, kissing.
“There was a knock at the door.” Her voice was hollow, wooden. “Mark had barely opened the door before . . . it attacked him.” A shudder racked her body. “Its eyes, his eyes,” she corrected, “were red, like they were on fire. He picked Mark up by the neck and threw him across the room.” A scream echoed in her mind. “He killed Sharon. Before she could even stand up, she was dead. Blood soaked her neck. Her gown. The floor . . .”
Her temple began to pound. “By the time Mark realized what was happening, Sharon was gone. And then the creature turned on him . . .”
She couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell him of the horrors that Mark had endured. He’d been tortured, viciously tortured, before he had received the release of death. In the end, he’d begged his killer to end his torment. The man had laughed, seeming to enjoy Mark’s pain, his anguish.
William didn’t say a word. His eyes just watched her with unshakable intensity, as if he were looking into her very soul.
“When I woke up, I told myself that it was just a nightmare. That Mark was fine. Then the phone rang.” A sad smile twisted her lips. “It was a police officer. He told me that my brother was dead. Mark’s body had just been found at the cabin.”
“I’m sorry, Savannah.” His words were soft, sincere.
She barely heard him. Her gaze was turned inward, viewing a blood-filled scene that only she could see. “I went to the cabin. I drove there as fast as I could. There was blood everywhere. I saw Mark. And Sharon. It looked like they had been mauled by a wild animal.”
William touched her arm, and she blinked, her eyes focusing on his dark visage. “But it wasn’t an animal. It was a vampire.”
“And you plan to go after him? To go after the vampire that killed your brother?” Disbelief was heavy in his voice.
“I have to.” She couldn’t rest until her brother was avenged. And she couldn’t let that thing stay out there, killing innocent people.
A sad smile twisted William’s sensual lips. “You haven’t got a chance. There is no way that you can defeat a vampire. You don’t have the strength.”
A flush stained her cheeks at his dismissive words. “I don’t have the strength now, but I will—if you transform me.” Once she had the strength of an immortal, she could defeat the monster.
William stared down at her, his gaze hooded. “My poor, lost little fairy. You truly do not have any idea, do you? Even if I transformed you, that doesn’t mean you’ll have the strength to defeat another vampire. A vampire’s strength increases as he ages. You will be but a babe, while the creature that killed your brother—” He shrugged. “He could have the power of centuries.”
Savannah paled. Her mind raced frantically. “You have the power of centuries.” He’d been an immortal since the Battle of Hastings. He had to have immense power. “You can help me defeat him. You can teach me, show me what I need to know—”
“I could,” he agreed slowly, his face giving nothing away, “but why would I?”
She gasped at his cold tone.
“It’s time for you to leave.” He turned away dismissively. “I’m sorry for your loss, but there is nothing that I can do for you.” He walked back inside the house.
Savannah followed on his heels, leaving the balcony door open in her wake. “How can you turn me away?” she asked softly, confusion filling her. “I read Henry’s diary. I know the kind of man that you are—”
He froze. “Don’t you mean the kind of man that I was?” He glanced back over his shoulder and his eyes flashed red. “As you so astutely noted before, I’m not a man. I’m a vampire, a killer, just like the one who attacked your family.” His razor sharp teeth gleamed as he smiled at her.
She refused to give in to the sudden fear that swept through her. She rushed toward him, grabbing his arms. “No, you’re not. You’re nothing like him. I read the diaries. I know.” And she did know. She sensed it deep inside.
He pushed her back a step. “You know nothing.” His words were little more than a growl. His hand lifted, caressing her throat lightly. “I could kill you now, and there would be nothing you could do to s
top me.”
“You won’t kill me,” she whispered. “You won’t hurt me.” Her gaze met his in an unblinking stare.
He stopped smiling. Hunger flashed across his face. Lust blazed in his eyes. “Won’t I?”
Chapter Four
There is a price for the gift. A terrible price.
—Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
November 5, 1068
SAVANNAH’S CHIN lifted and she met his gaze with a bold stare. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be. You should be terrified.” The words were cold, flat.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she repeated calmly. “But I think you’re afraid of me.”
He jerked back from her as if he’d been struck. “I fear nothing. No one.”
“No, of course, the ‘Dark Knight’ would not admit to fear,” she said, using the title he’d earned at William the Conqueror’s side. “But not admitting it doesn’t mean that it’s not there. It doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the fear.”
His lips twisted. “And why would I be afraid of you, little one?”
She lifted one brow. “I don’t know, Dark Knight. Why are you?”
His eyes narrowed. Did a flush darken his cheeks? She couldn’t tell, not for certain. The moonlight wasn’t strong enough.
His arms lifted to wrap around her, to pull her against his chest. “I don’t fear you,” he muttered angrily. “But I do want you.”
Her heart pounded. God help her, she wanted him, too.
“I want to drink from you, to taste the sweet nectar of your blood. I want to bury myself in you, to lock you to me,” he growled. He bent, and licked the slender column of her throat. She shivered and molten heat pooled low in her belly.
“I want you, as I’ve never wanted another.” He sounded angry, almost enraged, as he made the admission.