Night's Pleasure

by Amanda Ashley

  Savanah shuddered at the grisly image.

  “Anyway, there I was, lying on the ground, bleeding, with your mother standing over me. I figured I’d bought the farm for sure. Instead, she told me we were even, but that if she ever saw me again, she’d take my head.” Rane grinned. “She was a tough broad, that one.”

  Savanah smiled faintly. Maybe things really did happen for a reason, she thought. Rane had saved her mother’s life and now, years later, he was here, protecting hers, because her mother had let him live.

  “Do you know who killed her?”

  He shook his head. “No, but we can ask Mara when she gets back from Egypt. She might know.” Of course, there was no telling when that might be.

  “Thank you for telling me about my mom,” Savanah said as Rane pulled into the driveway. “And for taking me into town. It was good to get out of the house for a while.”

  He nodded. “Anytime.” Switching off the engine, he exited the car and opened her door for her. Savanah grabbed her package from the back seat, then took Rane’s outstretched hand. They had only taken a few steps when he came to an abrupt halt. Lifting his head, he sniffed the wind.

  “What is it, a skunk?” Savanah asked, although she couldn’t smell anything other than the scent of pine trees and the honeysuckles that grew near the front porch.

  “A little more dangerous than that.”

  Alarmed, she glanced around. Anyone, anything, could be hiding in the shadows. The night that had once seemed so lovely now seemed fraught with danger. Fear of the unknown sent a shiver down her spine.

  “Stay close,” Rane warned as he continued up the path.

  “Like glue,” she muttered.

  Rane paused at the front door, his senses reaching beyond the barrier. There was no one inside. The house was empty.

  “Rane?” Savanah tugged on his arm. “You’re scaring me.”

  “Someone’s been here.” He removed the Supernatural barriers he had placed around the door, then opened it and stepped inside.

  “Are you sure?” Savanah looked behind her, her gaze probing the shadows. Was the prowler still there, lurking in the darkness even now?

  “Don’t worry, they’re gone.”

  “How do you know?”

  Rane glanced at her over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold, his expression clearly reminding her that he was no ordinary man.

  “Oh, right,” she muttered. “Superman lives.”

  “I guess that makes you Lois Lane,” he said as he switched on the lights. He locked and bolted the door; then, summoning his powers, he replaced the protective barriers around the house.

  Savanah dropped her purse and shopping bag on the sofa. “Do you know who it was?”

  “No, but I’ve got a pretty good idea what they were hoping to find.”

  “The books!” Savanah exclaimed, her eyes wide. “My mother’s books.”

  “Right the first time.”

  “What if whoever tried to get in is still here?”

  “They’re gone.”

  “How can you be sure? What if they’re hiding somewhere in the house?”

  “They didn’t get in.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Savanah sank down on the sofa. “You’re sure they didn’t get in? That the books are still here?”

  “I’m sure.” He sat beside her, his arm slipping around her shoulders to draw her closer. “Why don’t you destroy those books? You’ll never be safe as long as you’ve got them.”

  “I can’t. I have so little that belonged to my mother….”

  “Would she think they’re worth your life?”

  “I don’t know. So,” she said, changing the subject, “did your supernose tell you who was here?”

  Rane shook his head in exasperation. She was a stubborn creature, but somehow, it only endeared her to him more. “It wasn’t a scent I recognized,” he said, answering her question.

  “Was it a Vampire?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, that’s a first.”

  He grunted softly. “Whoever it was, they were wearing something to mask their scent. I’m not sure what they used, but it was common enough during the war.”

  “Were you involved in that?”

  “Not as involved as Mara and the rest of my family.” He had kept to the sidelines, getting his licks in when he got a chance.

  “Tell me about her, about Mara.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Is she really as old as they say?”

  He nodded.

  “And she’s your godmother?”

  “Yeah. She’s the one who named me. And Rafe. She came to see us every now and then while we were growing up, checking on us, bringing us presents at Christmas and on our birthday. We didn’t even know she was a Vampire until after we were turned.” He laughed softly. “Rafe and I look older than she does.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  “More beautiful than you can imagine.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  She was, but she didn’t want to admit it.

  Rane stroked her cheek. “Don’t be. She might be beautiful on the outside, but you’re more beautiful on the inside, where it counts.”

  She slipped her arms around his waist. “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  She grinned at him, thinking they sounded just like Princess Leia and Han Solo.

  Rising, she took him by the hand and tugged him to his feet.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  He let her lead him up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Now what?” he asked.

  “I want to show you something.”

  “Oh?” His gaze moved over her from head to foot. He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the musk on her skin. “And what might that be?”

  With a smile, she slipped her sweater over her head and tossed it on a chair. “Me, of course.”

  Rane sat on the foot of the bed. “Show me more.”

  She kicked off her sandals, slithered out of her jeans and tossed them aside.

  Rane’s gaze moved over her, his eyes hot. “More.”

  The look in his eyes sent frissons of heat coursing through her. With hands that trembled, she removed her bra and stepped out of her panties. Even though they had made love before, even though he had seen her naked before, she was tempted to cover herself with her hands. After all, it was one thing to be naked together, and quite another to be naked alone.

  “One more thing,” Rane said.

  Savanah frowned. What else did he want her to take off? She was naked. And then she realized she was still wearing her mother’s crucifix. Reaching up, she slipped the chain over her head and dropped it on the dresser, and then she looked at Rane and said, “Now you.”

  “You want me to do a striptease?” he asked with a wicked grin.

  “Yes.” She tugged on his hand, then took his place at the foot of the bed when he stood.

  With a wry grin, Rane removed his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt.

  “More,” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

  Rane heeled off his shoes, removed his socks with a flourish, then unfastened his belt and drew it slowly out of the loops. After dropping his belt on top of his shirt, he removed his trousers, revealing a pair of black briefs.

  “More,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. He was gorgeous, all broad shoulders and rippling muscles.

  Any doubts she might have had that he wanted her vanished when he removed his briefs.

  She went eagerly into his arms, a soft moan rising in her throat as their bodies melded together. He moved deep within her, pleasuring her, completing her. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the magic that was Rane.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The full moon cast long silver shadows across the countryside. Clive lifted his head, basking in the glow of the m
oon’s light, feeling it swell within him, growing, expanding, calling forth the wolf that lurked just under the surface. It was a glorious sensation. Usually, he enjoyed running with the pack, but not tonight. Tonight, he didn’t want to share the hunt with anyone else, didn’t want to share his kill. As the alpha male, it was his right to hunt alone.

  Eager to shift, he kicked off his shoes, excitement rising within him as he caught the scent of prey on the wind.

  He was unbuckling his belt when his cell phone rang. He considered letting it ring; then, with a growl of annoyance, he reached for the phone. “What?”

  “Clive? It’s Roc.”

  “Did you find the books?”

  “No, I couldn’t get into the house. There’s some kind of protective barrier around the doors and the windows.”

  Clive swore. “Is the woman still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And Cordova?”

  “He’s with her. What do you want me to do?”

  “Keep an eye on the house, follow them if they leave.”

  “And if I get a chance to grab her?”

  “Take it, but don’t kill her unless you have to. I’ll get up there as soon as I take care of a few things here.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  “Some pack trouble.”

  Roc grunted. That usually meant one or more of the wolves needed disciplining, or worse.

  “Keep in touch,” Clive said, and ended the call.

  After dropping the phone inside one of his shoes, Clive removed his shirt and his trousers. He would take care of his business here, and then he’d call his lieutenant and they would pay a visit to the Gentry woman. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t willingly give him the books, but that was all right.

  Clive grinned inwardly as he threw back his head and surrendered to the beast within. He was sure he could persuade her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming.

  Lost and alone, she wandered through an unfamiliar landscape, searching, always searching—for her father’s killer, for her mother’s books, for a sense of peace and security. For Rane.

  A dark mist surrounded her on every side. The air was thick, so thick she could scarcely breathe, barely see where she was going. A light shone in the distance, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Sunlight? Candlelight? A will-o’-the-wisp?

  She slogged on through the mist, her feet moving as if through heavy quicksand. Bottles of holy water clinked together in the pocket of her jacket; she carried a sharp wooden stake in one hand, a heavy wooden mallet in the other.

  She felt a prickle of unease as she moved deeper into the gray haze. Someone was following her, she was sure of it. She spun around, her gaze trying to penetrate the thick vapor, but she couldn’t see anything through the mist. Moving on, she walked faster and faster, until she was running blindly through the haze. Heart pounding, side aching, she ran on and on, her gaze fixed on the light, but it never seemed to grow any closer.

  Her terror multiplied when she heard footsteps behind her, footsteps that grew ever louder, ever nearer.

  And then, to her horror, she felt a hand grip her shoulder. With a cry, she flung herself around, raised the stake in her hand, and plunged it into her pursuer’s chest, only to realize, too late, that it was Rane.

  She cried his name as dark red blood fountained from his chest and then, to her horror, his body turned to ash. She screamed in anguish as a gust of wind stirred the ashes until nothing remained to show that he had ever existed….

  Savanah bolted upright, her cheeks wet with tears, her last agonized cry ringing in her ears.

  Frantic, she glanced around the room, blew out a sigh of relief when she saw Rane lying beside her.

  “Bad dreams?” Sitting up, he drew her into the shelter of his arms.

  “Yes. It was awful. I dreamed I…that I…” She couldn’t say the words.

  “Let me guess. You killed your first Vampire?”

  She nodded.

  “Was it the Vampire who killed your father?”

  “No.” She looked up at him, her eyes haunted. “It was you.”

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It was just a dream.”

  “What if it was a—a premonition?”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “I don’t know. I knew I was dreaming, but it seemed so real.” She shuddered at the memory. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a Vampire hunter.”

  “I guess only time will tell. Do you want a light on?”

  She did, but she didn’t want him to think her a coward, so she shook her head. “I’ll be all right.”

  Scooting under the blankets again, she turned onto her side. Rane slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close, so that her backside was nestled against his front. Spooning, she thought with a faint grin. Wasn’t that what they called it?

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Rane was holding her. There was nothing to be afraid of.

  It was late afternoon when she awoke. In the light of day, her nightmare didn’t seem as frightening or as real. She told herself it was only natural to dream about killing Vampires; she was supposed to be a hunter, after all. A hunter without a kill, she thought glumly.

  Rising, she slipped on a robe and padded into the kitchen, surprised to find Rane sitting at the kitchen table.

  His arm snagged her waist as she headed for the coffee-maker. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

  “Hi.”

  He drew her down and kissed her, driving every other thought from her mind but the heat of his mouth on hers. How could there be such magic in one kiss? she thought, and then grinned. He was a magician, after all.

  She sat on his lap, her arms twining around his neck, her tongue mating with his. She shuddered with pleasure as one of his hands cupped her breast while the other slid up her neck into her hair, holding her head in place as he deepened the kiss, his hungry mouth devouring hers.

  She moaned softly, her hands clutching his shoulders. “Let’s go back to bed,” she murmured breathlessly.

  “A wonderful idea,” he said, his mouth trailing fire along the side of her neck. “But we have company.”

  “Company?” she asked, frowning. How could they have company? No one was supposed to know where they were. “Who can it be?” And where were they? No one had knocked at the door.

  “Mr. Leon Webb. He’s on the porch.”

  The words had scarcely left Rane’s mouth when the doorbell rang.

  “Who’s Mr. Webb?”

  “An acquaintance,” Rane said. Lifting Savanah from his lap, he took her by the hand and went to admit their visitor.

  Webb was tall and muscular, with short-cropped iron-gray hair and eyes so pale a blue they were almost colorless. Clad in a pair of well-worn camouflage pants, a dark green T-shirt, and scuffed combat boots, Savanah thought he looked like a walking ad for Gangs-R-Us. He carried a leather-bound case in one hand.

  Rane invited Webb inside, then closed and locked the door behind their guest. “Savanah, this is Leon Webb. Webb, this is Savanah.”

  Savanah drew her robe more tightly around her. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she was pleased at all.

  Webb gave her a perfunctory nod, then placed the leather case on the coffee table. He opened it with a flourish, revealing half a dozen handguns.

  Savanah looked at Rane askance. What use did he have for a gun?

  “I wasn’t sure exactly what you wanted,” Webb said, “so I brought the best of what I have.”

  “And ammunition?”

  “Of course. The gun’s no good without it.” Webb lifted a nasty looking weapon from the case and handed it to Rane. “I think that’s the best choice. It’s lightweight, good for close-up work. It should take down anything she comes across.”

  She? Savanah sat on the sofa, a cold knot of suspicion forming in the back of her mind. “What does he mean, ‘she’?”

  “It
’s for you,” Rane said.

  “Me? Why do I need a gun?” As far as she knew, Vampires were impervious to bullets. She looked at Rane, willing him to read her mind since she couldn’t ask him outright, not with Mr. Webb standing there, listening.

  “I want you to have some protection against Werewolves.”

  Savanah frowned at Rane. What was he thinking, to mention such a thing in front of this man?

  “That should do the trick,” Webb said, apparently not bothered or shocked by Rane’s mention of Werewolves.

  After checking to make certain the weapon wasn’t loaded, Rane offered it to Savanah.

  She stared up at him. She had never held a gun in her life, much less fired one.

  “Go on,” Rane said. “Take it.”

  Reluctantly, she did as he asked. The gun nestled in her palm as if it had been made for her. From the look of it, she had expected it to be heavier than it was.

  “We’ll take it,” Rane said. “And all the ammunition you’ve got with you.”

  Webb nodded. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “No, that should do it.”

  “I’ve got a couple of paper targets out in the trunk.”

  “All right, we’ll take those, too.”

  “What about gloves?”

  Rane shrugged. “All right. Black. Leather.”

  Webb nodded again. “I think I’ve got just what you want.” With a curt nod at Savanah, Webb headed for the door.

  Rane followed him, but didn’t go outside.

  Savanah stared at the gun still clutched in her hand. Could she actually pull the trigger on a living creature? Would she be willing to take a life to save her own?

  Rane returned, alone, a few minutes later.

  “Where’s Mr. Webb?”

  “Gone.” Rane dropped a large brown paper sack on the coffee table. “There’s ammo inside, a couple of paper targets, and a pair of gloves. We’ll see what kind of marksman you are after the sun sets.”