Night's Surrender

by Amanda Ashley

  “Well, now that that’s settled,” Mara said, turning her attention to Rafe, “perhaps you can tell me why Edna and Pearl are living in your lair on Park Avenue?”

  “You don’t have to talk about us like we’re not here!” Pearl said, bristling.

  “Be quiet. Rafe?”

  He sent an apologetic glance at Pearl. “They said they were tired of living in that drafty old wreck of a castle and asked if they could stay with us in New York for a while and I said yes. It’s my understanding that they plan to move into one of Nick’s lairs.”

  Mara’s gaze swung in Nick’s direction. “Is that true?”

  Nick dropped into one of the easy chairs beside the fireplace and drew Abbey down on his lap. “Yes, not that it’s any business of yours. Why? You got a problem with that?”

  “Not if you don’t.”

  “They did their best.” Nick took a deep breath, his nostrils filling with Abbey’s scent. The steady beat of her heart, the whisper of the crimson tide flowing through her veins, rumbled in his ears like thunder.

  He lifted Abbey from his lap and stood abruptly, his breath coming in short, hard gasps.

  Abbey called his name, but he was past hearing. A thought took him out of the house, away from the growing temptation of her blood, and into the city.

  He needed to feed, he thought desperately.

  Before it was too late.

  He should have known Mara would follow him. She caught up with him as soon as he reached the city. With a smile that was decidedly smug, she linked her arm through his.

  “It’s been a while since we hunted together,” she purred. “What are you in the mood for? Chinese? Italian? Mexican?”

  “Very funny,” he growled. “Does Logan know where you are?”

  She waved a hand in the air, as if to dismiss his question.

  “He won’t like it, you following me.”

  “He’ll understand. I’m your sire. You need me right now.”

  “Like hell.”

  “Stop it. You’re hurting and on the edge of desperation. In your current condition, you’re liable to do something you’ll regret later, like drain a family of five or something.”

  Nick growled again. It was the sound of a hungry predator.

  “This way,” Mara said, tugging on his arm.

  He followed her blindly, the hunger blazing through his veins like liquid fire, stealing the breath from his body. He burned with need, with the urge to hunt, to kill.

  His head went up as he caught the scent of prey.

  Mara smiled. “Almost there.”

  They ghosted along a narrow, winding pathway through a park toward an outdoor amphitheater. Hundreds of people, maybe as many as a thousand, sat in a wide semicircle around the stage, some clapping and singing along with the band, others dancing or swaying to the music. Several couples were making out in the darkness beyond the floodlights.

  “Smorgasbord,” Mara whispered. “Drink your fill.”

  Nick inhaled deeply. The air smelled of perspiration and pot, excitement and lust. And blood. So much blood. Enough to satisfy every craving clawing at his vitals, every need.

  His fangs brushed his tongue as he called his first victim to him. He wrapped the young woman in his arms, like a spider cocooning a fly, before he sank his fangs into her throat. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as the first crimson drops fell on his tongue, groaned deep in his throat as warmth spread through every nerve and cell, filling him, reviving him.

  He hissed, felt his eyes turn to flame when Mara laid a restraining hand on his arm.

  “Enough!”

  It was a command from his sire, one he was compelled to obey. Teeth bared, he glowered at her over the top of the woman’s head.

  “Abbey will be upset if you take a life,” Mara reminded him. “Look around, Nicky. There is more than enough prey to quench even your thirst.”

  With a curt nod, Nick released the woman from his thrall and called another to his side.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Abbey glanced around the living room, which had fallen uncomfortably quiet after Mara’s departure. She wanted to ask what was going on, but hesitated to break the taut silence. The air was charged with emotions, one of which—rampant jealousy—was clearly written on Logan’s face.

  Edna and Pearl looked uneasy, as if they expected everyone to blame them for what had just happened.

  “Well, that tears it,” Rane muttered.

  Savanah laid her hand on his arm. “Rane, please,” she said quietly. “You’re not helping.”

  Shaking off her hand, Rane focused his gaze on Pearl. “Did you know this would happen?”

  “Of course not. There’s no way to predict how the serum will work, or how the recipient will react.”

  “But you knew there was a chance?”

  “I didn’t expect it to work at all,” she snapped. “Nick is a grown man. He knew what he was getting into. I told him it probably wouldn’t work, that it was as likely to destroy him as not. He decided to take his chances.”

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Abbey said, rising. “I made my choice, and Nick made his. We’re the ones who have to live with it. Dad, I know you don’t like Nick. I know you’re worried about me. But I knew what I was getting into. I would have married Nick no matter what. I wish you’d accept my decision and give us your blessing.”

  “She’s right,” Rafe said. “You can’t live your daughter’s life for her.”

  Rane glared at his brother. “And when he turns her against her will, am I supposed to accept that, too?”

  “You don’t know that will happen,” Rafe said. “And if it does . . . what the hell. We’re all vampires here. She’ll have all the love and support she needs to transition.”

  With an aggrieved sigh, Rane sat back, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Where’s Logan?” Kathy asked, glancing around the room.

  Rane snorted. “Where do you think?”

  Nick spoke quietly to the woman in his arms, wiping the memory of what had happened from her mind before releasing her from his thrall.

  Mara stared at him, one brow lifted. “You have a prodigious thirst. Any chance of filling it tonight?”

  He flashed her a wry grin, then shrugged. “It’s been several months since I fed, you know. Lots of lost time to make up for.”

  She laughed softly. The husky sound sank deep into Nick’s memory, reminding him of the nights he had spent wrapped in her embrace. Long nights of unbridled passion punctuated by an overpowering lust for blood. They had hunted together, sometimes sharing their prey. There had been no guilt back then, only a need that couldn’t be denied, and Mara, more beautiful than any woman he had ever known, urging him on.

  So many memories shared in such a short time. Nights of passion and pleasure he would never forget. It was only later, after she had abandoned him, that he had started to hate her.

  “There were more good times than bad,” she murmured.

  “Do you think so?”

  “Don’t you?” Leaning forward, she licked a bit of blood from his lower lip. “Sometimes I think that . . . Logan! What are you doing here?”

  “Looks like I’m interrupting a love scene,” he said, his voice raw. “Too bad I left my camera at home.”

  “Stop it.”

  “I won’t stop it! I’ve seen the way you look at him. The way he looks at you.”

  Mara fisted her hands on her hips, her jaw jutting forward, her eyes flashing fire. “I thought we settled this.”

  “So did I. Obviously I was wrong.” Eyes red, fangs extended, Logan glared at Nick. “Stay away from my wife, or fight me for her, here and now.”

  Nick shook his head. “You damn fool. Calm down. There’s nothing going on here. Mara loves you, not me. And I’m in love with Abbey.”

  “That’s not what it looks like,” Logan growled. “To hell with both of you. I’m outta here.”

  He was gone amid a swirl of glittering black mo
tes.

  “Sorry,” Nick muttered, although he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. She had followed him, not the other way around.

  “It’s not your fault.” Mara blew out a sigh. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine. You’d better go after him.” Before she could leave, he placed his hand on her arm. “Wait. Can I ask a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  He hesitated, reluctant to tell her what he wanted.

  There was no need to tell her. She knew him better than he knew himself. Biting into her left wrist, she held it out to him. “Go on.”

  He cradled her arm in his hands and lowered his head. Her blood was like no other, thick and rich. Her power flowed into him and through him. He could feel it cleansing him, destroying the last of Pearl’s serum.

  Mara touched his cheek and when he lifted his head, she kissed him. She tasted of blood and midnight and eternal darkness.

  Taking a step back, she gazed deeply into his eyes, into the very depths of his soul.

  And then she was gone.

  Nick stood in the shadows on the front porch. An indrawn breath told him Abbey was alone in the house.

  Hands clenched, he stared into the distance, wondering if he would be welcome. Had her father turned her against him?

  A wave of his hand opened the door, but when he tried to enter the house, he couldn’t cross the threshold. It told Nick more clearly than anything else that the transformation from human to vampire was complete.

  The house belonged to Abbey. He could no longer enter without an invitation.

  “Abbey?”

  “I’m in here.”

  He bit back an oath. Should he ask for an invite, or just get the hell out of her life now, before it was too late?

  “Nick?”

  “I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He heard the frown in her voice, the sound of her footsteps as she padded toward the door. “I can’t come in.”

  She stared at him blankly for a moment, then murmured, “Oh, of course. Nick Desanto, you will always be welcome in this house. Please come in.”

  He followed her into the living room. “Why were you sitting in the dark?” When he turned on the lights, she looked away, but not before he saw the tears shining in her eyes. Muttering an oath, he closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry, love.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Where do you think?”

  She nodded. “Hunting.”

  “I had to get out of the house. Away from you before . . . before I did something we’d both regret.”

  “You were with Mara, weren’t you?” When he hesitated, she said, “Don’t lie to me, Nick. I can smell her perfume on you.”

  “She knew I was in no condition to be left alone. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Is that why you kissed her?”

  “I didn’t.”

  She lifted one brow. “That’s her lipstick, isn’t it?”

  Shit! “She kissed me. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “Isn’t that what men always say when they’ve been unfaithful?” Fighting tears, she sank down on the sofa.

  “Dammit, Abbey, nothing happened between us. She kept me from killing when that was all I wanted to do. She gave me some of her blood to strengthen me. And she kissed me good-bye. That’s all there was to it.”

  Abbey clasped her hands tightly in her lap. Right or wrong, justified or not, she was jealous of every moment Nick spent with Mara. If he needed blood, she wanted him to take hers. She wanted to be the one he turned to, no matter what the problem, even though she realized that there would be times when only another vampire could provide the help he needed. She would just have to get used to it.

  “You’ve got to believe me,” Nick said quietly. “By the love I have for you, I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I believe you, Nick. I’m sorry I was so upset. I should have trusted you.” She bit down on her lip. “Did Logan find the two of you together?”

  “Yeah, he found us. It wasn’t pretty.”

  “He’s jealous, too, but then, who can blame him?”

  Murmuring her name, Nick pulled her into his arms. She resisted a moment, then relaxed against him. She could feel the subtle differences in him, the latent strength, the tightly leashed power. The faint hum of preternatural energy brushed her cheek, as warm as a spring breeze.

  She looked up, meeting his gaze, and felt that incredible power flow over her, raising the hairs along her arms, making her stomach curl with anticipation.

  He lowered his head slowly, giving her time to pull away. When she didn’t, he covered her mouth with his, his tongue sweeping across her lips, darting inside to tangle with hers.

  Abbey moaned softly as Nick deepened the kiss. She slid her hands under his shirt, her nails raking his back and shoulders.

  A moment later, the lights went out and a fire sprang to life in the hearth. Nick’s mouth never left hers as he drew her down onto the rug in front of the fireplace and stretched out beside her.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he muttered, and in moments, they were undressing each other until they lay naked in each other’s arms.

  He drew her body close to his, his eyes blazing with desire as hot as the flames crackling in the hearth as he kissed and caressed every inch of her, until, desperate for release, she cried out for him to take her. Only then did he rise over her, a mystical, preternatural being with fire in his eyes and magic in his hands.

  His fangs pricked her throat, quickly and gently, and his power flowed into her, reestablishing the blood bond between them, giving her access to his thoughts, as he had access to hers. As their bodies came together, she felt everything he felt, knew what he was thinking, just as he was aware of her thoughts and feelings. He knew what she wanted almost before she did. She writhed beneath him, wanting to be closer, closer.

  “Now, darlin’,” he murmured huskily, and swept her over the edge of passion into ecstasy.

  Nick held Abbey close, one hand lightly stroking her hair. Exhausted and fulfilled, she had quickly fallen asleep in his arms.

  He lay there, his eyes closed, relishing the weight of his preternatural power. He knew then that, had the cure worked, sooner or later he would have asked Mara to turn him again. He had been a vampire too long to ever truly be happy as a mortal. He had missed the preternatural strength at his fingertips, the sense of invincibility, the ability to move faster than the eye could follow. The blood.

  Nick listened to the slow steady beat of Abbey’s heart, the quiet flow of blood in her veins. It was like music to his ears. He wasn’t sorry he had tried Pearl’s cure. It had made him realize how much he had enjoyed being a vampire, something he had lost sight of somewhere along the way. Nor did he regret the few short weeks he’d had to sample mortal food and drink. So many flavors and textures, such variety, and yet, on some level he hadn’t recognized at the time, it hadn’t really satisfied him, no doubt because as Mara had pointed out, he had never been truly human.

  Cradling Abbey against his chest, he stood and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom. Even in sleep, she snuggled against him. She stirred but didn’t wake when he tucked her into bed.

  He stood there a moment, listening to the night. She called to him like a jealous lover, her voice soft and enticing as she whispered to him, reminding him of the myriad pleasures to be found in her darkness.

  Nick stared out the window. The lure of the hunt was tempting, he thought, glancing at Abbey again, but not so tempting as the woman sleeping in his bed.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Logan Blackwood prowled the timbered hills behind Mara’s house in Northern California, his gut churning, his thoughts chaotic. He had acted like a lovesick fool. The knowledge made his stomach muscles clench. And yet, who the hell could blame him? He wasn’t blind or stupid. He had seen the way Mara looked at Nick, the way
Nick looked at her. She had flown to Nick’s side the first time he had tried that blasted cure.

  She had gone to him again tonight.

  Logan slammed his fist into a tree, splitting the trunk in half. What was he supposed to do? Just sit idly by while she played nursemaid to another man? Dammit, he loved her. He had loved her from the moment he first saw her, gliding toward him through the dark of night, a vision in a long white gown, her hair falling over her shoulders like black silk, her skin translucent. One smile and he had been lost. He had loved her then. He loved her now and for always. Even when he should have hated her, he loved her. But this time she’d gone too far. He might be a vampire, but he was still a man, and a man had his pride. He wasn’t her lap dog or her consort. He was her husband.

  “A little jealousy is a healthy thing in a husband.”

  He didn’t turn to face her. “Is it?”

  “Hektor . . .” His ancient name, whispered softly, weakened his anger, as she had surely known it would. But he refused to face her.

  He heard her sigh and then she was standing in front of him—beautiful, ethereal, a goddess come to earth, an enchantress who had stolen his heart and his soul centuries ago.

  “Don’t be angry,” she murmured, her fingertips trailing down his cheek. “You know it’s you I love. You and no one else.”

  “You love him, too. Admit it.”

  “In a way, yes, I do.” Rising on her tiptoes, she nipped his earlobe, hard enough to draw blood. “But only you have my heart.”

  “Do I?”

  Annoyance flickered in the depths of her deep green eyes. “You doubt me?”

  He shrugged.

  Lifting her chin, she stepped out of her heels and began to undress, slowly, provocatively. She unzipped her long red gown and let it fall. Holding his gaze with hers, she removed her lacy black bra, the matching panties—until she stood naked before him, her skin glowing in the light of the moon. Perfect. Eternally flawless.

  Determined to hold on to his anger, he started to turn away, only to discover that he couldn’t move. Trapped by her gaze, he stood there as she slowly stripped him of his clothing, her fingers trailing fire wherever she touched him.