Night's Surrender

by Amanda Ashley

  “Since it isn’t safe for them to return to the States, I’ve decided to let them stay here to look after things.”

  “Thank you for everything,” Abbey said.

  Mara nodded. “Give my love to your mom and dad. And tell your mother the books are hidden where no one will ever find them.”

  “I will.”

  Abbey hugged Mara and Logan, then picked up her suitcase.

  “Ready?” Nick asked.

  When she nodded, he tucked his suitcase under one arm and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Here we go.”

  The next thing she knew, they were standing in the middle of the living room in the cottage.

  Abbey dropped her suitcase on the floor beside Nick’s. She clung to him for several moments, until the world stopped spinning. They had left Mara’s place at six P.M., Romanian time. Here in California, it was ten hours earlier and the sun was shining brightly.

  She was about to ask Nick if he wanted to go riding when he turned sharply toward the door, his eyes showing red, nostrils flaring.

  “What is it?” Abbey whispered.

  “Hunters. A lot of them.”

  “Here?” She glanced nervously around the room.

  “No. Up at the house.” He drew in a deep breath. Blood had been spilled. Copious amounts of it.

  “My parents!” Abbey exclaimed, the color draining from her face. “I’ve got to go up there!”

  She ran toward the door, skidded to a stop when she almost ran into Nick.

  “Not so fast,” he said. “Not until I check it out.”

  “Nick, they could be hurt. Or . . .” She blinked back her tears. They couldn’t be dead!

  “There’s nothing you can do up there. You need to stay here until I find out what’s going on.”

  “I can’t just sit here and wait, not knowing.”

  “Abbey, listen to me. I don’t know what happened up there, but I smell blood, and I’m not sure whose it is. I’m going to take you to my lair in New Jersey. When we get there, I want you to call your uncle Rafe and ask him to come and stay with you. Got it?”

  “But . . .”

  “Don’t argue with me. You can’t do any good here.”

  He didn’t wait for her answer. Wrapping her in his arms, he transported the two of them to his lair in New Jersey. “I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I find out.” He scribbled his address and phone number on a scrap of paper and thrust it into her hand. “Call your uncle. Promise me?”

  She nodded. Nick was right. There was nothing she could do at home. “Be careful!”

  “Don’t worry about me. Make that call. And keep the doors and windows locked.”

  Nick dissolved into mist as he approached the Cordova house. He could hear voices inside—a lot of voices. He hadn’t told Abbey, but the blood he’d smelled was mostly vampire blood. And overlying it, the unmistakable smell of death.

  Hovering outside a downstairs window, he quickly took in the scene before him. The living room was a shambles. Sofa pillows were scattered on the floor, drawers had been emptied. Pictures hung askew, leading Nick to believe the intruders had been searching for a wall safe. No doubt the rest of the house had also been turned upside down.

  Eleven hunters formed a loose circle around Rane and Savanah. A fire burned in the hearth; a poker rested on the coals, its tip glowing bright red. Both vampires were bound by heavy silver chains. Judging from the bloodstains on their tattered clothing, they had been tortured. It was hard to tell how long it had been going on, or how badly they had been hurt, since vampire wounds healed quickly.

  “I grow weary of this.” Meloni’s voice, thick with anger and impatience. “Where are the books?”

  “We’ve told you a hundred times,” Rane said. “They aren’t here and we don’t know where they are.”

  “Liar!” Meloni raked a silver-bladed dagger down Rane’s arm from his shoulder to his wrist. Blood oozed from the shallow gash. “I know you have them!”

  “We did.” Rane’s voice was tight, laced with pain as the silver burned through him. “We gave them away.”

  Meloni snorted. “You expect us to believe that?”

  “It’s the truth!” Savanah cried. “Leave him alone!”

  “Truth!” Meloni exclaimed with a sneer. “Vampires don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  Having seen enough, Nick unleashed his preternatural power as he materialized in the midst of the hunters.

  As one, the hunters reeled backward, their faces going slack, weapons clattering to the floor.

  A thought held them immobile. They all glared at him, their combined hatred a tangible presence in the room.

  “Nice party,” Nick muttered. Holding Meloni’s gaze with his, he said, “Release my friends.”

  Moving robotlike, she did as she was told though her eyes blazed with impotent fury.

  Rane helped Savanah to her feet. “Where’s Abbey?”

  “She’s safe,” Nick said curtly. “What the hell’s going on? How’d they get past your wards?”

  “A couple of them caught Savanah outside, alone. They shot her with darts laced with silver. I heard her cry out and when I went to see what was wrong, a bunch of them sprayed me in the face with holy water. It rendered me helpless just long enough for them to overpower the two of us.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell them where the books are?” Nick asked.

  “They would have just killed us that much sooner. Besides, we don’t know.”

  Nick grunted softly. Rane could have told the hunters that Mara had the books. They might have believed him. Or maybe not. Either way, he was pretty sure the hunters wouldn’t have left them alive.

  “What do we do now?” Savanah asked.

  “If it was up to me, I’d have a big lunch and bury the remains,” Nick said. “But it’s your house, so . . .” He shrugged, then frowned when another vampire materialized in the room. Though he had never met Rafe Cordova, there was no mistaking the man’s resemblance to Rane. They could only be brothers. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Abbey.”

  “Kathy’s looking after her,” Rafe explained. “I thought I might be needed here.” His gaze moved over Rane. “How you doing, brother?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Rafe.” Savanah smiled warmly. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too,” he said, giving her a hug.

  Rane jerked his head toward the hunters. “Shouldn’t we get back to the matter at hand?”

  “Wipe their memories and let them go,” Rafe said.

  Nick snorted. “Seriously?”

  “You can’t be thinking of killing all eleven of them,” Rafe said incredulously. “Someone’s bound to know this bunch was coming here. We’ll have every hunter in the country breathing down our necks.”

  Nick glanced at Meloni and the others. “Looks to me like they already are.”

  “Rafe’s always been a softie,” Rane said, “but I think in this case, he’s right. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not in the mood to dispose of eleven bodies.”

  “I think you’re making a big mistake by leaving them alive,” Nick said. “But you do what you have to do. Abbey’s waiting for me at my place.”

  “Is she living with you now?” There was no mistaking the disapproval in Rane’s voice.

  “No. I took her there to get her out of harm’s way. I’ll bring her home tomorrow.”

  Savanah stepped between Desanto and her husband. “Thank you, Nick.”

  He gave her a curt nod of acknowledgment, and then left the house.

  Nick found Abbey asleep on the sofa, her cheeks stained with tears. He stood there looking at her for a long time. She was, he thought, the most beautiful being he had ever seen. Just being near her made him ache inside in a way he didn’t understand. He loved her with all his heart, and yet it went deeper than that.

  He glanced up as a woman entered the room. “You must be Kathy,” he said. “
I’m Nick. Thanks for coming.”

  She nodded. “Everything okay at Rane’s place?”

  He nodded. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

  “You love her, don’t you?” Kathy asked, nodding in Abbey’s direction.

  “More than my own life. Thanks again for keeping an eye on her.”

  “Happy to help. Now, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be going home.”

  “We’re good. Let me know if I can ever return the favor.”

  Nick walked Kathy to the door and then, moving to the window, he stared into the distance, his thoughts turned inward. He loved Abbey with his whole heart, but what did he have to offer her? He was ancient; she was little more than a child. He had seen things, done things, that would sicken her if she knew.

  She deserved a normal life, with a man who shared similar interests, one who had grown up in the same era she had, shared similar memories.

  A man who could give her children, and grow old at her side.

  A man who wouldn’t look at eleven helpless humans and think of them as lunch.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brow furrowed, Mara stared at the computer screen. Several days ago, she had hired a rather disreputable Internet detective to search for the man whose sperm Savanah had chosen.

  The findings were interesting, to say the least.

  She glanced over her shoulder as Logan came up behind her.

  “What’s up, wife?”

  “My man came through. The information given on the donor card lists his name as Miles Jay Cunningham, age twenty-nine, born in Loch Lynn Heights, Maryland, unmarried. He listed his profession as accountant.”

  “Seems harmless enough.”

  “Ah, but when my man dug a little deeper, he discovered that Miles Jay Cunningham, also known as Miles Novotny, was a warlock aligned with a well-known coven in New Orleans.”

  “The plot thickens.”

  “That’s not all. In Boston, he was known as Miles Lightner, a self-proclaimed psychic and healer. In Santa Fe, he went by the name of Ace Lightner. For a time, he worked as a dealer in Atlantic City. Until they caught him dealing from the bottom.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He died in prison two years ago while he was serving a fifteen-year sentence for stealing uncut diamonds worth a cool half million from one of his clients.”

  Logan clucked softly. “End of the trail.”

  “Yes, but it might explain why Abbey was able to read Nick’s mind. I think her abilities are negligible at best, but Nick’s preternatural powers have somehow enhanced hers.”

  “So, what are you going to do with this info?”

  “I don’t know. Give it to Abbey, I suppose, although I’m not sure she will appreciate knowing her biological father was a crook.”

  “She might like to know he was a warlock.”

  “I wonder if Savanah knew?”

  Logan shrugged. “Where are the lovebirds now?”

  “Abbey’s at home with her parents.” Mara cocked her head to the side, a distant look in her eyes. “I can’t find Nick.”

  “Isn’t he with Abbey?”

  “No. He’s stronger than I thought,” she murmured, looking troubled. “He’s blocking me.”

  “What the hell is he up to?”

  Mara shook her head, her expression troubled. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a pretty good idea.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Abbey woke in her own bed in the cottage with no recollection of how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was lying on the sofa at Nick’s house, praying that Nick and her parents and her uncle Rafe were all right.

  Rising, she showered and dressed, then went up to the main house, thinking Nick was probably there, waiting for her.

  She found her parents in the living room, putting things to right. “Hunters did this?” Abbey glanced at the overturned furniture, the torn pillow cushions, the papers and books scattered on the floor. The wooden stakes, clubs, and silver chains stacked in one corner. The blood stains on the carpet.

  “Yes,” her mother said succinctly. “Hunters.”

  The word, spoken with loathing, echoed inside Abbey’s head. She had heard the word most of her life. She knew what it meant. But never before had the reality of the danger vampire hunters presented hit home quite so forcefully. Hunters had invaded her home. Had they prevailed, her parents would now be dead.

  Abbey looked at her mother and father. She could see no visible wounds, but vampires healed quickly. Her gaze drifted to the blood on the rug. Was it theirs? Or . . . ? “Where are the hunters?”

  “They’re gone.”

  Gone. What did that mean, exactly? And did she really want to know? Visions of her parents fighting, killing to defend their lives, filled her mind with grotesque images.

  “But you’re both all right?”

  “We’re fine,” her father said. “Where’s Nick?”

  “I thought he was here.”

  Rane shook his head. “He helped us out yesterday. We haven’t seen him since.”

  Refusing to consider what that meant, Abbey spent the next few hours helping her parents clean up the mess. The hunters had searched every room, every closet, every nook and cranny. Tables were overturned, mattresses ripped, drawers emptied. Clothes had been tossed out of closets.

  By nightfall, the clutter had been cleaned up. The ruined mattresses were stacked outside the back door, along with the living-room carpet, and the broken furniture. Few pieces had been left intact or unscarred. After looking it over, her father decided to scrap the lot of it.

  “You’ve been wanting to redecorate,” Rane said, draping his arm around Savanah’s shoulders. “I guess now’s the time.”

  Where was Nick? That was the question that haunted Abbey throughout the night. She tried several times to contact him telepathically, but either she had lost the ability to do so, or he was blocking her.

  She told herself not to worry, that everything was fine. But try as she might, she couldn’t make herself believe it.

  In bed that night, she cried herself to sleep. In the morning, her cheeks were still damp with tears.

  Her parents came by late that afternoon to see if she wanted to go furniture shopping with them, but Abbey declined, saying she needed to look after the stock.

  “You really should come with us,” her mother coaxed. “After all, we need to refurbish your old room, too.”

  “There’s no hurry,” Abbey said. “I’m happy in the cottage. Mom, could I talk to you a minute before you go?”

  Savanah glanced at Rane.

  “No problem,” he said. “I’ll wait outside.”

  “What’s on your mind?” Savanah asked when she and Abbey were alone.

  “I was wondering who . . .” Abbey bit down on her lower lip. “When you went to the sperm bank, did they tell you anything about my biological father?”

  Savanah frowned. “Just his age and that he was a healthy white male. Why? What brought this up all of a sudden?”

  “Sometimes I can read Nick’s mind.”

  “I see. Have you and Nick exchanged blood?”

  Abbey hesitated, then said, “I tasted a little, but I could read his thoughts before that.”

  “I suppose I could look into it, if it’s important to you. Of course, it’s been so long . . . I don’t know if they’d still have that information, or even if the office is still there. But I’ll check into it tomorrow evening and if I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  “Not this time.”

  “All right. We won’t be long,” her mother said, giving her a hug.

  After her parents left, Abbey quickly changed into her work clothes and tugged on her boots. She hurried down to the barn where she fed and watered the stock, mucked out the stalls, checked the cinches on all the saddles, noting that the one on her father’s favori
te saddle needed to be replaced. But no matter how busy her hands, her mind replayed one question over and over again.

  Where was Nick?

  Had he changed his mind about marrying her?

  Was he hurt? Dying? Dead?

  Why couldn’t she contact him?

  Why hadn’t he contacted her?

  Try as she might, she couldn’t stop worrying. Couldn’t stop wondering if his last kiss good night had really been good-bye.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  If you were a vampire, there was no better place to be than in the heart of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. It was one big, never-ending party. A veritable smorgasbord for a hungry vampire as people from all over the country—all over the world—came to eat, drink, and be scared out of their minds.

  The city was rife with haunted houses and voodoo churches, with stories of ghosts and zombies who prowled the city’s graveyards by night, and with witches and fortune-tellers who plied their trade by day.

  You never knew who lurked behind an elaborate feather mask. Was it merely a human out for a good time, or a creature of the night looking for prey? People let down their hair and their morals. Whiskey and wine flowed like water.

  And so did the blood.

  Nick had been in town less than an hour and had already counted at least thirty vampires roaming the streets, mingling with the tourists, luring them into dark corners and darker alleys.

  He wasn’t sure what had drawn him to the city. A need to indulge his vampire nature, perhaps? Or to remind himself yet again that he was no fit companion for the woman he loved.

  He knew Abbey was trying to contact him but he ruthlessly blocked her thoughts.

  He needed time alone. Time to decide what was best for the two of them. His two biggest fears were that if the cure didn’t work, he might, in a moment of weakness, drain her dry, or worse, force her to accept the Dark Gift, something that would surely make her hate him. And no doubt bring the wrath of the entire Cordova clan down on his head. Yet, loving her as he did, how could he watch her wither away and die when he could so easily prevent it?

  Nick let the crowd on the street carry him along, though he was oblivious to the noise and the excitement.