She finished cramming everything into her briefcase and raced to catch up with him. He was waiting for her outside. Hands shoved into his pockets, he turned with her and started down the street. She'd stayed too long tonight and missed the bus. It would be a long walk home.
Nick walked with her, his eyes scanning the street. What was his connection with Stephen? Why did he look like he was in pain? And why had he told her about the silver?
She thought about grilling him for information. The tight press of his mouth warned her he wasn't inclined to talk, but she'd gotten into this situation by being pushy. Maybe she could find a way out the same way.
"So, have you known Stephen long?" Nick's jaw tightened, but he shook his head. "How long?" He shrugged and sped up, forcing Madeleine to stretch her legs. "Come on, Nick, give me something. Help me get out of this."
"Even if I knew a way out, which I don't, I can't help you. Stephen would—" He stopped and shook his head. "He's dangerous, Madeleine."
"I figured that out when he bit me."
"No, it's worse than that. He's hard and cold. I don't think he's afraid of anything or anyone."
He didn't fear death. She knew that from experience. "So, he's a bad dude among the vampires," she said, trying to sound casual.
"Dylan's gone."
"What?"
"Dylan used to live in the house. Now he's gone. Stephen just threw him out, and who knows what will happen to him now."
"Isn't Dylan a vampire?" She'd somehow assumed that they all were in that house.
"Yes, but he's young. Young vampires are very vulnerable."
"Like you."
Nick spun around on his heel, his lips pulled back in a snarl and a spark of red illuminating his eyes.
"I am not one of them!" It was difficult to tell who was more startled—her or Nick. His shoulders drooped, and his hands came up, curling and opening, as if not knowing how to plead his case. "I'm so sorry, Madeleine. I don't know what came over me."
Her heart pounded in her throat. "Don't you?" she asked quietly.
Nick raised his chin and continued to stare at her, defiance turning his eyes stone cold.
"You were turned without your permission, weren't you?"
Nick looked away, finally dragging his gaze from hers.
"Who?" As Madeleine asked the question, possibilities popped into her head. Stephen? No. There had been a grim hopelessness in Stephen's eyes when he'd told her he hadn't chosen to be a vampire. He'd never convert someone else. "Who converted you?" It shocked her that she was using the language Stephen had taught her, but after only four days, it flowed off the tongue easily.
"I don't know. They wiped my memory."
"And Stephen took you in."
He glared at her. "I'm not some orphan off the street, Madeleine. He took me in so I could finish the conversion." Madeleine shook her head, not understanding, and he explained, "It works like this. You get converted by drinking a vampire's blood, but you stay a half-vampire until you die or you make your first kill."
You need blood. Fresh, human blood. And there's a body in the living room with plenty of it. Stephen's words crowded her memory.
"That's what Stephen wanted you to do that night." Her voice was dazed. "I was supposed to be your first kill."
"Yeah."
The answer shocked her into reality and how close she'd been to death. All gentle thoughts of Stephen faded. It was too easy to forget what he was.
"Don't worry about me. Be careful around Stephen."
She barely heard his words.
"Nicholas?"
Nick tensed beside her as a new voice intruded. He took a step closer, his body crowding hers, covering her.
"Nick, here." Slowly, they turned at the quiet call. Dylan stepped out of the shadows.
"Oh, Dylan, you don't want to be here," Nick warned. "If Stephen finds out, he'll kill you."
"With what? He's no threat to me." The young man smirked. His faced turned sweet when he looked at Madeleine. "How are you doing, Madeleine?"
His voice was so gentle, so concerned. So different from everyone else since this started that she felt tears well up in her eyes. Dylan put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.
"I'm sorry you got caught up in all of this." He shook his head. "I tried to get you out that first night, but Stephen had already laid claim. I'd like to help now but I'm not sure I can." He glanced over his shoulder. "It isn't wise to fight Stephen. He's dangerous."
That was the second time in a very short while someone had warned her Stephen was dangerous.
"What happened to Danielle? Who killed her?" The questions were out of her mouth before she knew it was even in her mind. Stephen would tell her nothing about her cousin.
"I can't say. It wouldn't be wise." He looked away, his jaw tightening as if he fought revealing some secret. "I'm sorry about your cousin. I brought her into this. I didn't understand what would happen. She was fun."
His smile was gentle, reminiscent. Madeleine nodded, feeling like a mourner at a funeral listening to an old friend talk.
"I didn't know Stephen would take an interest in her." Dylan slammed his fist down into his open palm. "I shouldn't have left her alone. I thought she'd be safe. Stephen sent me out for something, and I left her there. I came back, and she was gone."
Madeleine felt the air rush out of her lungs. Stephen and Danielle? Had Stephen killed Danielle? He'd denied it, but then he'd lied about knowing her at all. She hadn't let herself think about the possibility.
"Oh, Madeleine, I've upset you. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know—" He stopped. "I don't want to say too much, but Stephen was ordered to kill you, and he hasn't."
Madeleine flinched. It had been easy in the past few days to forget the ultimate outcome of their relationship. Hearing another person say it made it that much more real.
"I'm afraid he's planning to use you now that Danielle's gone."
"What?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."
"Vampires he doesn't like have been turning up dead. Staked. I don't know how he's doing it, but somehow he's killing vampires."
Stephen? Killing vampires! She didn't believe it. Or maybe she just didn't want to believe it.
Dylan continued, "However he's killing them, it's something he can't do on his own. He needs a human's help."
He let the statement linger and finally Madeleine lifted her eyes. "I don't know what you want."
"Has Stephen done anything or talked about dead vampires? If you can give me something, maybe I can get the Council to back off. Let you live. Killing vampires might seem like a good idea to you, but in the end, you'll still end up dead. Look what happened to Danielle."
It was too much to take in. Her overburdened mind couldn't assimilate all the information, but that didn't stop the questions. Had Stephen used Danielle, then killed her? Was he planning to do the same with her? He'd handed the stake to her and urged her to use it. Maybe it had been a test. But had she passed or failed by refusing?
Dylan put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't really know what's going on, just that he's dangerous and somehow you fit into his plan." He looked over his shoulder. "I have to go. It isn't safe. Be careful, Madeleine."
Before she could respond, he disappeared. She stared at the empty space and listened to the rapid patter of her heart. Dazed, she stumbled behind Nick as he silently urged her home. The sun was fully set. It was the first time since it all began that she'd been outside after dark, but even fear couldn't penetrate her thoughts. Was Stephen using her? Planning to use her to kill other vampires? It didn't seem possible, but then none of this was possible.
She barely noticed entering her building or Nick waiting patiently while she unlocked her door and slipped inside. The flurry of her thoughts precluded any conversation.
She left her briefcase by the door and dropped onto the couch. Slowly, her exhausted mind began to sort through Dylan's statements, and none of it made sense. Questions streamed by her,
one right after the other. She needed answers, and the only person she could get them from was Stephen.
That strange overwhelmed sensation faded, slowly dissolving into anger. And with it the return of her resolve.
Tonight, she was getting her answers.
She just had to wait for Stephen to appear.
Chapter Eight
He entered through the crack in her window. Even in his vapor state he could feel the waves of emotion emanating from her. She was furious. She lay staring up at the ceiling, her fingers tapping violently on the bed covers. Moving to the darkest corner of the room, he reformed and sent his thoughts to her, willing her to sleep. She fought it, but finally true exhaustion and his influence won, and her eyelids fell shut. He listened in the darkness, tuning in to the rhythm of her breath, the sweet sound of her heart sliding into the relaxed pulse of sleep.
He eased out of the shadows and stood beside her bed.
His tongue slipped along the bottom edge of his lip, remembering her taste. So sweet. Sexy. His fangs were half extended—a regular occurrence lately.
She curled on her side, her hand bunched up under her chin. She looked sweet. Innocent. Safe. Stephen shook his head. Lightning flashed outside the window. She didn't move. The heat from the day had called another storm. Rain would come soon.
She'd waited for him. Stephen rubbed the tips of his fingers across his forehead—a gesture from his human days, a mortal affectation that had no meaning. He didn't get headaches. Still, the action seemed to help. She'd waited for him—and that's why he'd stayed away.
Four nights indulging in Madeleine and he'd found himself addicted—to her taste, her smile, her wit, her strength.
Something strange was happening to him. He'd spent four nights with a human, and he hadn't bitten her, hadn't seduced her. They'd talked or fought. He felt the corner of his lips curl up into a smile. It was fun to fight with Madeleine.
She was so full of life.
And it would end tonight.
It would be simple. She wouldn't feel it. She would drift off and never wake.
And now she slept, unaware of the danger that waited for her.
He wandered around the room, still hesitant. Waiting for her to sink fully into sleep. He grimaced in the dark. He was stalling. How human.
He turned and forced himself to Madeleine's side. His weight rolled her toward him as he sat on the edge of the bed. She grumbled in her sleep, and her forehead crinkled in complaint. He smiled. She didn't like being disturbed.
He drew in a deep breath he didn't need, inhaling her scent. His tongue slipped out and brushed the inside edge of his lip. She shifted. Sleep eased the tension from her body, but her mind wasn't resting. She sparkled with mental energy as she snuggled down into the blankets. He wondered briefly if the dreams were still haunting her. She hadn't complained about them in days but that didn't mean much. Maddie was changeable and might have decided to enjoy them. Or maybe she'd found a way to ignore them. Stephen felt the edges of his eyes tighten. He didn't like the idea of her ignoring him—even if it was just in a dream.
A lock of hair fell across her forehead. He automatically moved to brush it back.
The slow half smile that seemed to hover over his lips whenever he was around her returned as he watched her sleep. She made him smile. She was so tough, so proud, and yet so vulnerable.
The morning crept closer and still he didn't move. It did him no good to remember that he hated those he was protecting, or that Madeleine had done nothing wrong, nothing worth dying over. He had a responsibility to the Community.
He ground his teeth together and placed a hand on the mattress behind her hip.
He bent over and opened his mouth against the warmth of her neck. The throb of her heart pounded through his ears.
The air was filled with her scent—warm, sweet, and sensual. She shifted underneath the thin blanket, her restless movements brushing against his leg. He tensed and endured the almost painful pleasure of touching her.
He dropped his jaw and positioned his teeth over her pulse, preparing for the sharp spike of pleasure as he entered her body.
The image hit him like a bullet, plowing into his thoughts with deadly force.
Madeleine naked on a bed, this bed. Writhing beneath his touch. Her throat arched back, open to him, begging for his mouth and the pleasure he could give her. She wanted it. She grabbed his head and pulled his mouth to hers.
Stephen straightened and looked at Madeleine. She twisted under the sheets, her body reacting to the dream that had captured her mind. The warm, delicious scent of her arousal reached him. He forced himself to stand and slowly backed away. This wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn't happen. Humans couldn't transmit.
Her lips slowly caressed the column of his neck, imitating the long, teasing kisses he'd given her. She opened her mouth and nipped the taut flesh with her teeth. He threw back his head and allowed a groan to escape. She smiled against his skin, thrilling in her power. She sucked lightly on the base of his throat, twirling her tongue over the pulse point, teasing it until he was begging, pleading for the gentle bite of her teeth. Her nipples grew hard as she tempted him. She rubbed them lightly against his chest, loving the sweet friction.
Eyes trained on her sleeping body, he backed away. He stumbled over a small bump in the carpet and fell back against the wall. The strength of his legs betrayed him, and he sank slowly to the floor. Madeleine's form no longer held the sleep of the innocent—she twisted in slow movements, seductive, her body unconsciously seeking sensations, needing his touch. His hands clenched convulsively, wanting to provide what she sought.
She rolled onto her back, and her hand skimmed across her stomach. A tight band wrapped around his chest as he watched her hand against her pale skin.
This was no dream he'd given her. She'd created it. And somehow, she was giving it to him.
Another wave hit him. He tensed and let the scene play through his mind.
"Please, Stephen, please, " she begged. And he was there, sliding into her warmth, filling her. She groaned at the joy of holding him inside her. He raised his head and their eyes met. Glowing with power and love, he began to move inside her.
Stephen closed his eyes and groaned quietly. He wanted the reality. He could have her. He could create the dream she envisioned. Except for the love. The man in her fantasy loved her—she trusted that and loved him in return.
Her body tightened under the slow steady assault of his thrusts.
Locked in her mind, Stephen's body responded. Each pleasure she felt, each touch she experienced, he received—the shudders, the need, the ache. Stephen clenched his jaw, too caught to seek an escape.
She needed more, just a little more pressure. He moved in sync to her unspoken commands, filling her. The sweet tension between her thighs began to build. She couldn't find the words, but they weren't needed. He knew what she wanted. He moved inside her. She couldn't stop. She had to have it. It—
The picture evaporated, ripped from the screen in his head.
Madeleine came awake and sat up, staring into the darkness. Her heart pounded, her body empty and crying for release.
Stephen sank farther into the shadows. His fangs were stretched to their painful limit, and he could feel his eyes glowing. If she saw him now, she'd see the vampire from movie nightmares. He wanted her. Wanted the flesh. His body was hard with arousal. He could have her. She was needy and aching.
But the reality wouldn't be her dream. He was too gone, too far from control to get near her. New images filled his mind, these of his own creation—a broken, bloodied body, eyes staring sightless at the sky. Madeleine.
He came here tonight with a purpose—to kill her.
But not like that.
She shook her head and looked into the shadows. She couldn't see him but she was too close, too tempting.
He closed his eyes and dissolved his form into a fine vapor, the mist indistinguishable in the darkness. He shifted, heading for
the window, but found he couldn't resist one final touch. He circled her body, twining himself around the curves and angles.
As he slipped around the corners of her flesh, Madeleine tensed as if sensing his presence. His muffled faculties recognized her distress and he comforted her, sending soothing thoughts to ease her. Slowly, her body began to relax, though need still hummed through her veins—a need he couldn't satisfy. Even in his vapor state he could sense it. It was too much.
He forced himself from her body, from her room, and left her alone and wanting.
Tension encased his body as he eased into his corporeal form a few blocks away. Away from temptation. He released a quick laugh. He'd never escape the temptation of Madeleine.
He stalked down the street, burning the energy that shimmered through his body. It felt good to move. Not as good as moving in Madeleine would have felt. The thought reignited the fires in his body, and he growled into the quiet street.
He had to talk to someone. Someone who might know what the hell was happening. How could Madeleine have sent him her thoughts? And how could he receive them? Even vampires couldn't transmit to other vampires—a vampire's mind was too protected, too shielded for others to implant thoughts. Joshua's opinion had been that it was an evolutionary development designed to protect them so no vampire could control another the way humans were controlled. Joshua would have known. But he was dead, and there was only one other vampire Stephen trusted.
Within moments he was standing inside Death's Door. He slipped in the back again, not wanting the attention. If Gayle's comments were true, the rumors were going fast and furious. And too damn close to the truth. He stepped to the edge of the light, watching the mass of bodies scattered at tables around the dimly lit dance floor. A few patrons looked up. Some nodded. Some dropped their gazes and whispered to companions. Gayle wasn't on the main floor, but Stephen waited. Gayle's innate awareness of his club would send him over soon.
"It looks like someone's taking up where your father left off."
Stephen tensed at the snide comment from behind him. He turned slowly and stared into the dark corner, a corner so black that none but the eyes of a vampire could pierce the darkness. Even with his hypersensitive sight, Stephen could barely make out Matthias' face.
Silver Dagger Page 11