Desire the Night

by Amanda Ashley

  He eased her down onto the floor, oddly reluctant to let her go.

  Standing, he paced the narrow cell from one end to the other. He had been a vampire for three hundred and sixty years. Wasted years, he thought, looking back through the corridors of time. True, he had traveled the world many times over, seen countries and kings rise and fall, but what had he ever accomplished? Nothing. Lisiana had bequeathed him a long life, but she had robbed him of the chance to have a home and a family. Tied to no one, he had lived like a vagabond, always on the move, drifting through the centuries, leaving no mark of his passing.

  Of course, he’d had little incentive. In the beginning, hunger overrode every other desire, every other need. For a time, he had indulged his every whim. He had taken what he wanted, heedless of the consequences to others. He wasn’t particularly proud of his behavior back then, but being a vampire had put him outside the law. Clothing and carriages, horses and homes, gold and wine and women. He had used his preternatural power to take them all, and blamed Lisiana. She had stolen much more than that from him. Didn’t he deserve to get even?

  Eventually, he grew weary of such a life. Without realizing it, he had accumulated a good amount of money, which had enabled him to buy lairs in London and Paris, in Madrid and Portugal.

  And then he had come to the New World. And ended up here, in what was, for all intents and purposes, a prison. Considering how he had spent his existence, perhaps it was where he belonged.

  Swearing under his breath, he shook off his maudlin thoughts.

  He paced back and forth, never tiring, until he sensed the sun’s rising, and then he stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes.

  Once, he had dreaded the beginning of each new day, hated the darkness that dragged him down into nothingness. But that was before Verah had trapped him. Where he had once dreaded the darkness, he now welcomed it as his only escape from reality.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Verah stood outside the cell, her brow furrowing as she stared at the captives sleeping on the floor. The vampire had one arm around the girl’s waist, almost as if he was trying to protect her.

  The girl had been here for the last two days and nights. Verah tapped her fingertips against her lips. She had thought to find the female dead by now, since Gideon had not fed in quite some time.

  Verah glanced at the goblet in her hand. She rarely bled the vampire during the day, mainly because he was trapped in sleep and therefore immune to the pain and humiliation. Where was the fun in that? But she had just received a rush order from an old friend.

  A wave of her hand unlocked the cell and she stepped inside, her skirts rustling over the cement. She never entered the cell at night. Weak or not, shackled or not, he was still a vampire. Only a fool would underestimate him. And she was not a fool.

  Since he wore only enough to cover his loins, it was easy to find a place to bleed him. Chanting softly, she made a quick incision in his thigh. Dark red blood flowed from the cut into the goblet.

  She stood when the goblet was full. There was no need to bandage the wound. Vampires healed quickly from all but the most severe wounds. Even in his weakened condition, the cut in his thigh was already little more than a faint pink line. It would be gone before she left the basement.

  It wasn’t until she started toward the door that she noticed the female was awake and watching her, a look of horror on her face.

  “Do not bother to ask for your freedom,” Verah said before the girl could speak. “You will never see daylight again.”

  With that, Verah stepped out of the cell, locked the door behind her, and left the basement.

  Kay stared after the fair-haired woman who had so casually sliced into the vampire’s leg and drained his blood. What did she do with it? Surely she didn’t drink it. The mere idea made Kay gag. Perhaps she used it in casting spells.

  Kay glanced at the vampire. His arm was curled around her waist, trapping her in place. Asleep, he didn’t look so frightening. His features were strong and masculine; some might even think him handsome. His cheeks, so pale when she had first seen him, had a hint of color this morning, no doubt due to the blood he had taken from her. She noticed that the wound in his thigh had already healed, leaving no trace of a scar.

  She had never seen a vampire before. She had heard of them, read about them, but she hadn’t really believed they existed. Kay lifted a hand to her neck. She knew differently now.

  Almost as frightening as the realization that vampires existed was her certainty that the fair-haired woman was a witch, and a black witch at that. Unlike white witches, black witches were evil creatures who drew their power from the pain and fear of others.

  It took considerable effort to lift the vampire’s arm so she could slip away. Rising, she noticed the dark brown splotches on the cement. Dried blood, she thought, grimacing. Would her life’s blood be the next to stain the floor?

  Kay straightened her clothing, ran a hand through her hair. She was hungry and thirsty. And more frightened than she cared to admit.

  With nothing to occupy her time, the hours ahead seemed endless. She slept and woke and slept again, her dreams filled with eyes that blazed red as hellfire in the gloomy cell.

  When next she woke, those eyes, calm and gray now, were watching her.

  Gideon sat up, bracing his back against the wall. He scowled when he caught Verah’s scent. “She was here?”

  “The witch?”

  “You know what she is?”

  Kay nodded. “She bled you while you slept.”

  “She does that from time to time.”

  Sitting up, Kay scooted to the far side of the cell. “What does she use it for?”

  “She drinks it. It keeps her young and vibrant.”

  “Really? Couldn’t she just cast some kind of illusion and get the same effect? It would be a lot easier, and a whole lot less disgusting than drinking blood.”

  “An illusion only works on the outside. My blood not only keeps her looking young, it gives her the inner strength and vitality of youth.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah. And what she doesn’t use, she sells to others, claiming it has magical healing properties.”

  “Does it?”

  “I don’t know if works for others. It certainly works for her.”

  Kay frowned as her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in days. “I don’t suppose she’s going to feed me?”

  “Probably not. She’s never bothered to feed any of the others.”

  “The others … how long … ?” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “How long did they last?”

  “A few days, perhaps a week, depending on how often the witch steals my blood, and how much she takes.”

  Feeling suddenly cold all over, Kay rubbed her hands up and down her arms. A few more days, perhaps a week.

  “I’m sorry,” Gideon said quietly.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He frowned at her.

  She made a vague gesture with her hand. “You’re a vampire. You’re only doing what comes naturally.”

  He stared at her a moment, and then he grinned. “You are a most unusual woman, Kiya Marie Alissano.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m a vampire,” he answered, as if that explained everything.

  “Most people call me Kay.”

  “Do they? I think I prefer Kiya.”

  She shrugged. What difference did it make what he called her? “Do you have a name?”

  “Gideon Marquet.”

  “Have you been a vampire very long?”

  “A few hundred years. How did you wind up here?” She wasn’t like any of the other women the witch had brought him. The others had all been helpless, poor, down on their luck. Mostly women who would not be missed. Judging from this girl’s appearance—well-kept hair and nails, designer clothes—she came from a different class of people. Someone, somewhere, would be looking for h
er, though they would never find her, living or dead.

  “I went to a nightclub with a friend of mine. I think someone must have drugged me.” She shuddered with the memory. “When I woke up, I was here.” She was shivering now. She wrapped her arms around her bent knees and drew them up to her chest. “Are you going to feed on me tonight?”

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On you.” His gaze moved over her, lingering on her lips, the swell of her breasts beneath the white silk shirt. “I’ll leave you alone tonight in exchange for one kiss, freely given.”

  “A kiss?” Was he kidding? How could he think about kissing at a time like this?

  Gideon nodded. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. He could have compelled those the witch brought him. He could have taken them by force. Neither option appealed to him. Nor had any of the women. But this one … there was something about her that intrigued him like no other. “So, what do you say?”

  She eyed him warily. “How do I know you’ll stop with a kiss?”

  He shrugged. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Trust a hungry vampire? Yeah, right.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “Hmm.” He was a good-looking guy. Cleaned up and well fed, he was probably devastating. “One kiss,” she said, and scooted closer to him. “No tongue.”

  He grinned, his shackles rattling as he reached for her. She could feel the power in his arms as he embraced her. For stretched seconds, he simply held her, his gaze locked on hers. She felt a tingle of awareness bloom inside her as his hand moved up and down her spine, then slid over her shoulder to stroke the edge of her breast.

  She started to push him away when he claimed her lips with his, and all thought of protest—indeed, all thought, period—vanished as his mouth closed over hers. She hadn’t expected to enjoy his kiss. He was a vampire, after all, but his kiss was like nothing she had ever known. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape as she drew him closer, suddenly inexplicably hungry for the press of his body against hers.

  She moaned softly when he took his mouth from hers, sighed as he rained kisses along the length of her neck. Lost in a maelstrom of sensual pleasure, she was scarcely aware that he had bitten her until, with a choked cry, he pushed her away, then retreated to the other side of the cell.

  Kay blinked at him, confused and suddenly light-headed. And then, seeing the red in his eyes, the single drop of crimson at the corner of his lower lip, she realized what he had done. “You said you wouldn’t feed on me.”

  “I’m a vampire,” he said, his voice faintly mocking. “I was only doing what comes naturally.”

  She glared at him when she realized he was repeating what she had said earlier.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, then cocked his head to one side. “What are you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your blood. It isn’t human.”

  She didn’t deny it.

  He rubbed a thoughtful hand across his jaw. “It isn’t vampire.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t believe in fairies or trolls and you’re too pretty to be a zombie. So, what are you?”

  Kay stared at him, wondering what he would do, what he would say, if she told him the truth. She considered a lie, then shrugged. Maybe it would save her. If not, she would be no worse off than she was before. “I’m a werewolf.”

  For the first time since he’d been imprisoned, Gideon laughed. The sound echoed off the walls and the ceiling, sounding totally out of place within the squalid confines of the cell.

  Kay stared at him, perplexed. “You think that’s funny?”

  He blew out a breath. “Don’t you?”

  “There’s nothing funny about being a werewolf, or turning fanged and furry when the moon is full, or spending the night in the woods once a month so I don’t hurt anyone, or … stop laughing!”

  “Don’t you see? You’re our way out.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Werewolves are supposed to be strong, aren’t they? The next time the moon is full, you can break down the door and get us the hell out of here.” It would have been easy for him to do just that if it wasn’t for the silver chains that rendered him almost powerless. “Can’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to do anything like that.”

  “But you’re strong when you’ve changed? Stronger than normal, right?”

  She nodded. It was a strength she had never fully tested, much to her father’s disgust and her aunt’s disappointment.

  “Can you control when you change? Or is it involuntary?”

  “Totally involuntary. It happens the first night of the full moon whether I want it to or not.” Why did she sound so defensive? She loved being in her wolf form.

  “So, do you go totally wolf, or are you aware of what you’re doing? Do you remember it the next day?”

  “Yes, I’m still me inside. I can understand what people are saying. And I remember everything that happens, everything I do.”

  He dragged his hand across his jaw. “When’s the next full moon?”

  “In three days.”

  “Damn,” he muttered. “Locked up with a werewolf.” He shook his head, then grinned at her. “It’ll be interesting to see which one of us survives.”

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  Kay studied the vampire sleeping beside her. The fact that he was asleep meant that the sun was up. How long until sundown? she wondered. How much longer could she go without food? Without water? Even now, her stomach was cramping painfully. She had never been this hungry, or this thirsty. How long did it take to starve to death? Would she survive long enough to find out? Could Gideon resist the urge to feed for another two days so they could put his escape plan into effect? Was she strong enough to break down an iron-barred door? She had to be, she thought glumly, because if she couldn’t do it, she was as good as dead.

  Cheerful thoughts, she mused, but it was hard to remain upbeat in this morbid place. The smell of urine and fear and unwashed bodies hung heavy in the air. The endless gloom and lack of sunshine was disheartening. Add to that the disquieting knowledge that her cellmate was a vampire and a girl could get depressed mighty fast. How slowly the hours passed when one had nothing to do but contemplate one’s own death!

  She ran her hand over her skirt. Like her shirt, it was badly wrinkled. She would have traded her brand-new Prada pumps for a change of underwear and five minutes in a hot shower with a bar of lavender soap and a bottle of shampoo.

  “Stop wishing,” she muttered. “It ain’t gonna happen.”

  Her father had warned her that leaving the pack would be dangerous, but Kay had insisted she wanted to live on her own for one year. She wished now she had listened to her father and stayed home where she belonged, even though it meant that she would now be engaged to Victor Rinaldi. Of course, all things considered, life with Victor was looking pretty good right about now.

  In an effort to distract herself from her surroundings and her dismal future, she concentrated on Gideon again. No doubt about it, he was an extremely attractive man with his long black hair and deep gray eyes, not to mention his quirky sense of humor, which she found endearing.

  Suddenly overcome with an irrational need to touch him, she sifted her fingers through his hair, ran her fingertips along his sculpted cheekbones, then lowered her hand to trace the width of his shoulders, the rock-hard planes of his chest and flat belly.

  He never stirred. Was he really dead while he slept, or merely trapped in the darkness, aware of what went on around him, but unable to respond? She couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be sucked down into oblivion with every sunrise. True, she was compelled to change into a wolf when the moon was full, but it was something she enjoyed. And it was only one night a month. Unlike movies and books, she didn’t turn into a ravening monster that killed everything that crossed her path, although deer and rabbit
s were fair game.

  There were advantages to being a werewolf, though she was only half wolf. Even in her human form, her senses were sharper than those of mere mortals. Werewolves aged more slowly than humans, and healed more quickly.

  Rising, she paced the floor. Gideon’s plan had to work. It was bad enough being caged as a human; she had no idea what effect it would have on her in her wolf form. During the full moon, she had always been in the wild, free to run and hunt to her heart’s content. Who knew how she would react if she couldn’t escape? She had never attacked anyone before, but then, she had never been in close quarters with a human—or a vampire—when the moon was full.

  She paced until her legs ached and then she sank down on the floor and buried her face in her hands. She was hungry, so hungry. And thirsty …

  Ever so slowly, she lifted her head and stared at Gideon. He drank from her to sustain his life. What if she drank from him?

  The mere idea turned her stomach. It was one thing to eat raw meat in her wolf form, quite another to sink her human teeth into mortal—well, almost mortal—flesh.

  Her stomach growled loudly. With a low groan, she curled up on the hard, cold floor and cried herself to sleep.

  Warmth, pressing against his side. The scent of blood and woman. Not yet fully awake, Gideon was still aware that Kay was lying beside him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, one of her legs flung over his.

  Slowly, he slid his hand along her side, lingering at the warm swell of her breast beneath his palm. Three years since he had lain with a woman. Three long years of abstinence. Vampires were sensual creatures by nature. With their preternatural senses, everything was enhanced—taste, smell, touch. Especially touch. He groaned softly, remembering how soft and sweet her lips had been. Turning his head, he captured her mouth with his, felt his desire roar to life.

  Tamping down his hunger, he drew back, frowning when he noticed how pale she looked, how shallow her breathing, how irregular her heartbeat. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since Verah had brought her here; last night he had taken more than he should have, which had weakened her still more.