Night's Pleasure

by Amanda Ashley

  “To work, of course.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

  “I went to my father’s funeral.”

  He shrugged. “You couldn’t very well avoid that. And you weren’t alone. Your uncle was with you.”

  “I can call a cab. I should be safe enough at the Chronicle if I stay inside. Jolie can bring me home.”

  “No.”

  “Do you really think a Werewolf will attack me in broad daylight? There haven’t been any reports of attacks during the day.”

  “There’s a first time for everything. Besides, I’m sure no one expects you to go to the office today.”

  He was right, of course. Even though she was certain it would be perfectly safe for her to go to work, there was no point in taking chances when she didn’t have to. Still…

  As if sensing her indecision, Rane said, “I went outside late last night, after you had gone to bed. The Vampire who killed your father has been snooping around again, and the Werewolf, too.”

  His words sent a cold chill down her spine. “How do you know?”

  “Their scent was fresh. One of them left a footprint in the dirt alongside the house. It can’t be a coincidence that they’re showing up at the same time. They’ve got to be working together.”

  Filled with a sudden sense of urgency, she said, “Let’s leave tonight.”

  Savanah went through the items in her suitcase a second time, wondering if she had packed more than she needed, then decided it was better to take too much rather than too little. For one thing, Rane hadn’t said how long they would be gone, and she still wasn’t sure where she wanted to go. Exotic locales flitted through her mind: Hawaii, Rome, Bora Bora, Cabo, Portugal. They all appealed to her, yet on some deep level she didn’t quite understand, she was reluctant to leave the country. Frowning, she tried to think of someplace a little closer to home, some vacation spot where she had always wanted to go. Graceland? The giant redwood forest in Northern California? Yellowstone? Disneyland?

  Savanah shook her head. She couldn’t imagine Rane wanting to visit any of those places; the thought of a Vampire touring Disneyland struck her as ludicrous, somehow. She had to grin when she pictured him in the Haunted Mansion. It was one ride where he would fit right in!

  She slipped her mother’s Vampire kit under the layers of her clothing before closing the suitcase, then checked her overnight bag. She had packed everything she needed, save for her comb, brush, make-up, and toothbrush; she would add those later.

  With nothing else to do, she decided to change the sheets on her bed. While carrying them to the laundry room, she paused outside her father’s bedroom. Rane slept inside. Feeling like Pandora, she put her hand on the knob, then hesitated. Did she really want to see him when he was caught in the sleep of the Undead? Did Vampires dream? Would he know if she opened the door and peeked inside? Would he look like he was sleeping, or would he look like a corpse, pale and unmoving? An image of her father as she had last seen him flashed through her mind, and with it a knifelike stab of grief.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then moved on down the hallway to the laundry room, which was located adjacent to the garage at the back of the house.

  Blinking back her tears, she dumped the sheets into the washing machine, added soap, and turned the dial to Wash. How had her life turned into such a nightmare? Her mother and father had both been killed by Vampires. How could she be in love with such an odious creature?

  Leaving the laundry room, she paused again outside her father’s door. Overcome by her curiosity, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.

  The first thing she noticed was that Rane had covered the room’s single window with the bedspread so that no light entered the room.

  He lay on the top of the blankets, his eyes closed, one arm curled behind his head, the other resting at his side. He had removed his shirt, shoes and socks. From where she stood, she couldn’t tell if he was breathing. If she called his name, would he hear her? Her gaze moved over him, her fingers yearning to delve into his thick black hair, to trace the outline of his broad shoulders, to run her palms over his muscular chest and six-pack abs. How did he stay in such good shape? Did Vampires work out? Somehow, she didn’t think so, yet she knew from experience that he was firm and fit. If only things were different. If she wasn’t mourning her father, if Rane was an ordinary man, she would have crawled into bed beside him and awakened him with a kiss.

  With her curiosity satisfied, she quietly closed the door and went upstairs to her own room.

  At least he didn’t look dead. She was grateful for that. And grateful that the burns on his cheek and neck had disappeared, just as he had said they would.

  But he was still a Vampire, and Vampires killed to stay alive. How many lives had he taken in the last week? In the last ninety years? The possibilities were staggering. Even if he had to feed only once a month, he would have killed over a thousand people. And if he fed every night…

  Until this moment, she hadn’t really let herself think about his feeding habits. He had said he’d “tasted” her. She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but obviously he hadn’t had to kill her to do so. Maybe he had never killed anyone. Maybe all he needed to survive was a “taste” now and then. But even as she tried to convince herself of that fact, she knew it wasn’t true. One of her mother’s books had described, in lurid detail, how Vampires fed off their victims.

  Savanah stared at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, imagining Rane bending over her neck, his eyes glowing red, his arms imprisoning her as he sank his fangs into her throat…. Of course, he would cast no reflection. She wondered how female Vampires applied their make-up without looking in a mirror. How did they try out a new hairstyle, or decide on new clothes if they couldn’t see how they looked? She remembered the night she and Rane had gone to the mall and he had bought that long black duster that looked so good on him. She now knew why he hadn’t wanted to check it out in the mirror.

  How could she be in love with one of the very creatures she was supposed to destroy?

  With a sigh, Rane rolled onto his side. He had known that, sooner or later, Savanah’s curiosity would get the best of her. She was a newspaper reporter and she was a woman. Add the fact that she was also thinking of becoming a hunter into the mix and her snooping was inevitable. He knew he was taking a chance, resting in her home, but at the moment it wasn’t his life he was concerned about, but hers. And if she decided to drive a stake into his heart, well, so be it. Better to be sent to hell by the hand of a beautiful woman than by some heartless, no-account hunter.

  He swore softly. Why were a Werewolf and a Vampire working together? Or were they? He could understand why a Vampire wanted the books now hidden under the spare tire in the trunk of his car, but of what interest would the volumes be to a Werewolf? Was he wrong to assume the only reason Savanah was in danger was because the books now belonged to her? What other reason could there be? Since she hadn’t yet made a kill, he was reasonably certain that he was the only one who knew that Savanah intended to follow in her father’s footsteps. Not that it mattered. So long as she was in danger, he intended to do everything in his power to keep her safe.

  Since Savanah couldn’t decide where she wanted to go, Rane made the decision for her.

  “The mountains,” Savanah exclaimed. “You have a place in the mountains?” She couldn’t have been more surprised if he had sprouted horns and a tail.

  Rane grinned at her. “It’s not mine. It belongs to an old friend of the family.” In point of fact, it was Mara’s place. Through the years, she had acquired property in a number of towns and cities, not only in the States, but in a good many foreign countries, as well.

  “The mountains,” Savanah muttered, and went back upstairs to pack some warmer clothing.

  An hour after sundown, they were ready to go. Rane ha
d packed earlier that evening. It didn’t take long to throw his clothes into a suitcase. Since he had no permanent home, he carried everything he owned in the trunk of his car. He had canceled his remaining tour dates and settled up with the owner of the house he had been renting.

  He carried Savanah’s bags outside, waited on the porch while Savanah locked the front door.

  “My car or yours?” he asked.

  “Yours,” she answered without hesitation. Her car was nice and relatively new, but nothing like his.

  Rane stowed their suitcases in the trunk, made sure her mother’s books were where he had left them, and then slid behind the wheel. “Ready?”

  Savanah bit down on her lower lip, then nodded. “Ready.” She had canceled the newspaper, put a hold on her mail, informed Mr. Van Black that she had decided to take him up on his offer of an extended leave of absence.

  Settling back in the seat, she sent a sideways glance at Rane, wondering what in the world had possessed her to think that going off to the mountains with a Vampire she hardly knew would be safer than staying home. But it was too late to worry about it now. For better or worse, she had put her life in his hands.

  It was a beautiful drive, even in the dark. As the road wound ever higher, more and more stars were visible in the night sky. A full moon cast her light over the earth, bathing the tips of the mountains in silver splendor, while the car’s headlights cut a wide swath through the darkness, occasionally startling a deer grazing in the meadow that stretched for miles along the side of the road.

  Soft music came from the car stereo, lulling Savanah to sleep.

  Rane took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the scent of the woman beside him. He saw her clearly in the darkness. Her eyelashes lay like golden fans against her cheeks. Her hair fell over one shoulder in a fall of moon-shadowed silk, leaving the other side of her slender neck exposed to his view. The whisper of her life’s blood flowing through her veins was like sweet music to his ears, the smell of it more enticing than the sight of her smooth, unblemished flesh. His gaze lingered in the hollow of her throat.

  His hands clenched on the steering wheel. What madness had tempted him to bring her to this lonely place in the mountains? No one had come here in years. If he lost control of his hunger, there would be no one to save her, no one to hear her scream.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Savanah woke when the car came to a stop. “Are we here?”

  “No. I thought you might want to buy a few things before we reach the cabin.”

  Glancing out the window, she saw that they were parked in front of a small market.

  Rane followed her inside, then trailed behind her as she walked up and down the aisles, filling her cart with the basic necessities.

  She shopped quickly and in less than half an hour, they were back on the road.

  She was dozing when the car stopped a short time later.

  Sitting up, she glanced out the window. To her left, surrounded by tall pines, sat a large white, two-story house with a slate-blue roof and a covered veranda. Beyond that was only darkness.

  She looked at Rane. The word Vampire whispered through the back of her mind, sending a shiver of unease skittering down her spine. What was she doing here, with a man—a Vampire—she had known for only a few weeks? She told herself there was nothing to be afraid of. He’d had numerous opportunities to drain her dry if he was so inclined. She told herself she was just being silly. She was tired from the drive. She had been under a lot of stress, what with her father’s death and learning that Rane was a Vampire. But no matter how many excuses she made, she couldn’t stifle that little innate twinge of fear that was experienced when creatures of prey were in the presence of a predator. And then she stiffened her spine as she remembered that she was a hunter, too! She had a sharpened stake in her handbag and a bottle of holy water in her coat pocket to prove it.

  She forced a smile when Rane shut off the ignition and turned to face her.

  “Second thoughts?” he asked.

  “No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Why?”

  He smiled, a slow, sexy smile. “I hope you don’t play poker.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, frowning.

  “It means your thoughts are as easy to read as print on a page.”

  She had forgotten he could read her mind. “That’s not fair, you know.”

  “Honey, I don’t have to read your mind to know what you’re thinking. You don’t trust me.”

  She started to deny it, but what was the point? He would know she was lying. So she went on the defensive instead. “Can you blame me? Vampires killed my parents, and—”

  “Dammit, Savanah,” he said quietly. “I didn’t do it.”

  “I know that, but…”

  “Forget it. I don’t blame you for the way you feel. It’s normal. Do you want to go home?”

  “No.”

  He studied her face a moment, then got out of the car.

  She watched him walk around the front of the car. Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for her. She didn’t hesitate when he offered her his hand. For better or worse, her fate was now tied to his.

  In spite of her brave façade, she followed him somewhat warily into the house. A wave of his hand and a fire sprang to life in the stone hearth. She figured she must be getting used to the Supernatural, since she hardly jumped at all.

  He turned on the lights, revealing a large, rectangular room with plush beige carpeting and dark red velvet draperies. Twin white sofas were placed on either side of an enormous marble fireplace. In one corner, a round black table polished to a high sheen sat between a pair of overstuffed red velvet chairs. Several paintings decorated the walls. A sword in a silver sheath hung over the mantel. There were no mirrors in evidence.

  “What do you think?” Rane asked, coming up beside her.

  “It’s very nice.” When he’d mentioned a place in the mountains, she had pictured a little log cabin decorated with deer heads and secondhand furniture. “Who did you say this belonged to?”

  “I told you, an old friend of the family.”

  “How old?”

  “No one really knows,” Rane said, grinning, “but it’s rumored she knew Cleopatra.”

  “I don’t believe you! Nobody, nothing, lives that long.”

  “Maybe not,” Rane said with a shrug, “but that’s the rumor. Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

  In addition to the living room, the main floor housed a roomy kitchen with black appliances, a high, round oak table and four chairs, and shuttered windows. There were two good-sized bedrooms, both with fireplaces and private baths. Again, there were no mirrors to be seen. The décor was sparse, but what there was, was quality. She glanced at the Monets hanging in the bedrooms and the Picasso in the hallway. She wasn’t an expert, but they looked like the real deal. She thought the frames alone probably cost more than her car.

  “And this is the playroom,” Rane said, leading the way downstairs.

  The basement had been converted into a rec room dominated by a large satellite screen. Savanah shook her head. No expense had been spared in decorating this room. A couple of comfy-looking leather sofas sat on either side of an enormous glass-topped coffee table. Matching armchairs were arranged in a cozy grouping. A regulation-sized pool table occupied the far end of the room.

  Savanah quickly perused a floor-to-ceiling shelf filled with books, puzzles, and a score of electronic games. She saw a desk with a state-of-the-art computer and a twenty-one-inch monitor at the other end of the room. A doorway led to a roomy bathroom, and beyond that, a laundry room.

  “There’s a pool out back,” Rane said. He opened the curtains, then flipped a switch, illuminating a covered patio, a round table and a number of chairs.

  “Your friend must be very rich,” Savanah exclaimed.

  “So they say.”

  “Are you sure she won’t mind our staying here?”

  “I’m sure. Besides be
ing a friend of the family, she’s also my godmother.”

  “I’ve heard of fairy godmothers,” Savanah mused, “but a Vampire godmother? That’s a new one on me.”

  Rane laughed softly as he drew Savanah into his arms. “You never fail to delight me,” he murmured, brushing a kiss across her lips.

  She blinked up at him, momentarily distracted by his kiss and his nearness.

  A roguish smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Drat the man. He knew exactly what effect his kisses had on her, whether they were long and slow, or short and sweet.

  Determined not to stroke his already inflated ego, she gestured at a narrow doorway beside the bookshelf. “Where does that go?”

  “To the subbasement.”

  “What’s down there?”

  “Mara’s private quarters.”

  “Really? I don’t suppose…?”

  “No, you can’t go down there. Come on, there’s more to see.”

  Taking her hand, he led her back upstairs to the main floor, and then up a short flight of steps that opened into a master suite that held a king-size bed, a matching dresser and nightstands, a satellite screen, and a corner fireplace. The adjoining sitting area was furnished with two rocking chairs, a low table, and a bookshelf filled with a number of books and DVDs.

  “It’s lovely,” Savanah said. And indeed it was. The walls were off-white, the quilt on the bed was burgundy, as were the matching drapes that covered the room’s single window. The thick white carpet beneath her feet made her want to take off her shoes and wiggle her toes. “If she sleeps downstairs…?”

  “This is the, uh, guestroom, I guess you’d call it.”

  He didn’t have to spell it out for her. Being a Vampire, Mara wouldn’t let anyone else into her lair, so this was where she “entertained” her male companions.

  Rane grinned wryly as comprehension dawned in Savanah’s eyes and pinked her cheeks. “This will be your room.”

  “Are you going to share it with me?” She hadn’t intended to ask that. Only hours ago, she had wondered if she would ever be able to share a bed with him again.