by Lisa Kessler
Gretchen lifted her chin slightly. “Muriah told me to let you know she didn’t share your secrets…yet.” Gretchen swept by him while he held the door to the restaurant open, kicking himself for asking Muriah to get involved.
He followed her inside, grateful when the maître de met them at the door, welcoming the distraction from his present conversation with Gretchen while he figured out how to handle it.
Once they were seated, he met her eyes. The candlelight made them sparkle. He wished he hadn’t noticed.
“Gretchen, I’ve known Muriah all her life,” he explained. “Of course she knows things about me.”
She unfolded her napkin, smoothing it across the thighs. “Were you lovers?”
Lukas felt his jaw go slack for a moment before he shook his head. “No. Never. She’s always been like family to me. Nothing more.”
“Really?” Gretchen sipped her water. “You’re not that much older than she is, and she’s a beautiful woman. Why wouldn’t you be involved?”
“I’m old enough to know better.”
Thankfully, their waitress broke the tension at the table. After placing their orders, Lukas sank back into a comfortable discussion about their work, grateful to see Gretchen’s defensive posture relax.
Throughout dinner, he made it appear he ate, cutting his food and shifting it around his plate, raising his fork while they discussed what he hoped to gain from his meeting with Calisto. Gretchen’s intuitive mind never failed to amaze him. Lukas had worked with many great scientists, but none of them held his attention like she did. Most of them were caught up in gaining fame from their discoveries. The wonder of solving ancient mysteries eventually evaporated for them, but as he watched Gretchen sitting across the table from him, her green eyes sparked with joy while she recounted a dig in the southwest United States.
“When I found the Mayan art on the Native American pottery fragments, I knew there was a connection. Dr. Powell doubted my theory, but it made sense.”
Lukas nodded, lifting his glass to his lips, careful to only allow for a small sip. Too much would make him ill. Dear God, she was beautiful. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve come across turquoise in some of the Mayan funeral masks.”
Gretchen leaned closer to him. Her scent intoxicated him, tempting him until he ached to touch her.
“Exactly!” Her face lit up even more. “Turquoise isn’t mined in the Yucatan. They had to have traveled north to trade with the tribes.”
“I agree. Have you published your findings yet?”
She picked at her food and lamented about needing to collect more data from other tribes. While he found her theories interesting, her passion impressed him the most. She remained perceptive, and hungry for new discoveries, but not for selfish gain. Fame didn’t seem to motivate Gretchen.
If it did, he had no doubt she would have already leaked their findings to the university.
She hungered for knowledge and understanding. For truth.
And as much as he wanted to make her happy, he would do everything in his power to keep her away from the truth about him, from the truth that Night Walkers were not merely a Mayan myth, or that they still roamed the earth.
Feeding.
…
Her hotel stretched high above them, like it held the moon up in the sky. Gretchen forced her gaze back to the sidewalk—feet on the ground and head out of the clouds, she reminded herself. Small waves splashed against the sea wall as they walked along the edge of the bay.
The possibility of romance drifted on the lazy breeze, but when she glanced over at her handsome “date,” he looked miles away. “You’re awfully quiet.”
He turned away from the water, his gaze meeting hers. “Sorry.” He rubbed his lips together, looking like he might add something more. Finally, he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
She wanted to shake him and force him to talk. Instead, she shifted her clutch to her other hand. “Any specific reason why?”
The wind blew through his dark hair. He stopped walking and rested on his forearms, leaning against the railing. “Because you’re beautiful and one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met.” He met her eyes, but he wasn’t smiling. “I have no business involving you in any of this.”
Gretchen tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, stepping up to the railing beside him. Her pulse surged hearing him admit he found her attractive. She didn’t trust herself to look into his eyes and still be able to keep her emotions in check, so she watched the moonlight sparkle on the water instead.
“Last time I checked, I still have my free will. I came with you to San Diego because I want to know what’s happening in the jungle every bit as much as you do, and after the past few months of work, I think I have a right to search for those answers.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod.
“Tell me something.” His voice was soft and low, like the tide. “Why haven’t you ever been married?”
“I had bigger plans than a wedding.” Gretchen shrugged, unsure where the conversation was headed but encouraged that Lukas finally asked about something unrelated to work. “I had a couple boyfriends in college, and I dated one of my professors after my doctorate, but relationships don’t travel well, and I like to travel.” She hesitated for a second, glancing his way. “My mom left us when I was little, and a few years ago I lost my dad suddenly. He used to love to take me places camping…” She let out a small sigh. “I feel closer to him when I’m out exploring, I guess.”
Lukas smiled at her, and her stupid heart fluttered in her chest. “Your father raised an amazing woman.”
The brief moment of light was quickly extinguished, though, and his features smoothed back into the chiseled mask of a tormented man.
“What about you?” Gretchen asked. “You’re a good-looking, intelligent guy. Have you ever been married?”
“No.” He clenched his fists, and his forearm muscles contracted. Gretchen did her best not to think about his strong hands as he went on. “I would never wish my life on anyone I loved.”
“You need to look in a mirror, Lukas. Your life is not so bad.” Gretchen straightened up, her brow furrowed. “Maybe you’d notice that if you didn’t waste all your energy pushing everyone away.”
He shook his head, still staring out at the water. “This isn’t what I want.” He stood up and took her hand, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. His gaze demanded hers, and her breath caught in her throat seeing the hunger in his dark green eyes. “There are sins in my past that can never be forgiven, Gretchen. My only solace is to find answers. Anything beyond that…love, passion…it’s all an illusion for me.”
He leaned toward her, and Gretchen’s chin tilted up instinctively, aching to taste him, to heal his wounded spirit. The moment his cool lips brushed hers, her pulse jumped. His kiss, like rich chocolate, infused her senses, making her hungry for more. A moan escaped her throat as his tongue swept along the crease of her lips, enticing her to open her mouth and surrender to the passion she’d been trying to bury.
His fingers slid into her hair and awareness bloomed through her body, forming a pool of heat in her belly. Gretchen let her hands explore his chest, living the fantasy she’d harbored for months, when he suddenly took a step back, breaking the contact.
“T’fu! Dammit.” Lukas shook his head, cursing under his breath. A rich undercurrent of a Russian accent flavored his words. It reminded her again that “Smith” was probably not his real last name.
He released her hand. “Forgive me. I usually have more self-control.”
Gretchen wished he had a lot less. Her legs felt rubbery, her senses on overload, and he apologized for it? She thought he’d finally given up keeping a “professional” distance, but no, Lukas was like an onion with never-ending layers. Would he ever let her in?
“Did I give you the impression I didn’t want that, too?” She did her best not to shout, but the kiss had jostled whatever
control she might’ve had. “Don’t apologize for something we both wanted.”
His gaze darkened. “I don’t want to bring you into something you don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.” She waited. He stayed quiet. She did her best not to explode. “Fine, you know what, don’t tell me.” Gretchen spun on her heel toward the hotel.
He caught her elbow. “Gretchen, wait.”
“For what?” She glared at his hand, then up into his eyes. She shook her head, pulling her arm free of his grasp. “I wish you would trust me with the truth.”
“You’re safer without it.”
She rolled her eyes and walked back to the hotel with Lukas, her silent partner, beside her.
“Are your sins illegal?” The words were out before she remembered it was best not to ask questions when she might not want to know the answers.
Lukas pulled open the glass door to the hotel lobby. “I’m not a fugitive, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Gretchen passed through into the lobby, barely glancing up at him. “Good to know.”
They rode up to her room standing on opposite sides of the elevator. She felt his gaze on her face, but she didn’t break her staring contest with the elevator doors. She’d never met a man who openly admitted he found her beautiful and enjoyed her company, kissed her like she was water in the middle of the desert, and at the same time kept a formidable wall between them.
Frustrating didn’t begin to describe the mixed messages he sent.
She stopped at her door. “If I invited you in, would you accept?”
He reached to touch her cheek, his thumb stroking along her jawline while his stare held her with more intimacy than his arms ever had. “Please believe me that I wish I could accept.”
His touch sent hot shivers down her spine, but his words were like a nasty cold shower. Gretchen stepped back. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.” She jammed her hotel key card into the slot and pulled open the door. “I look forward to hearing what your historian has to say.” She looked over her shoulder at him, hoping her face masked the pain she felt in her chest. “You don’t have to worry about me crossing the professional line again. Goodnight.”
She slammed the door closed behind her.
Chapter Eight
Lukas soared, navigating the night wind as his great horned owl toward the La Jolla coast. Seeing the hurt in Gretchen’s eyes and knowing he was the cause reawakened the bitterness in his soul. He could still taste her lips, feel her hands on his chest.
She was everything he could have hoped for in a mate. Throughout his long life, she was the first person he’d ever considered a partner. Until Gretchen, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled or laughed. He’d never wanted a woman so intensely, either.
Which was exactly why he couldn’t allow himself to be with her.
The owl screeched over the dark water of the Pacific as Lukas struggled to push Gretchen from his thoughts. He needed to keep his mind focused and shielded. The last thing he wanted was for his maker to see Gretchen’s face in his mind or hear her name in his thoughts. He had every intention of keeping her out of this Night Walker world. He had to protect her.
He flew silently over the sands, scanning the area below for any sign of life. Using his preternatural sight, he spotted Calisto on the beach below. He carried a woman in his arms, heading toward his large home.
Lukas batted his silent wings, pushing further north to land safely in the shadows as a man. He straightened his clothing and started toward the house. Calisto surprised him, storming out toward the waves.
Without the woman.
A gust of wind carried the scent of the ocean but not even the slightest trace of human blood. Lukas’s brow creased, and he opened his mind, reaching for his maker’s thoughts.
Calisto’s mind was locked down, shielded, and his dark eyes glowed crimson. Lukas raised his hands. His maker didn’t relax his stance, but the red glow gradually faded from his eyes.
“Why are you here, Lukas?”
“I’m here to talk.” He noticed his maker’s hands were fisted at his sides, his brow furrowed, his jaw set. Lukas raised his chin. “I have some questions I hope you can answer.”
Calisto shook his head, turning back toward his house on the cliff. “There is nothing to talk about.”
Lukas took a step closer. He had to struggle to keep from growling in frustration. “You really think I came this far just to walk away?”
“What I think is none of your concern,” Calisto replied.
“You arrogant bastard.” Lukas raised a brow. “You don’t even know why I’m here.”
Calisto spun faster than any human man ever could and knocked Lukas to the ground. They both tumbled onto the sand, and Lukas wrestled to gain leverage, struggling to break free of his maker’s clutches. Centuries ago, this man was a healer for the local Kumeyaay people. He saved Lukas’s life that night and mistakenly made him immortal, but now his hands tightened around Lukas’s throat.
“I know why you are here, and I will die before I let you anywhere near her,” Calisto growled.
Lukas shook his head, gasping for air. “I don’t know…what…you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” Calisto tightened his grip. Lukas shoved Calisto’s chin up and back. Arching his back, he kicked his legs and twisted, tossing his maker off of him.
“You’re insane.” Lukas’s voice sounded raspy, his vocal chords strained and swollen but already healing. A positive side-effect of being a Night Walker.
He scrambled to his feet, his gaze locked on his maker. “What happened to you?”
Calisto stood and raked his fingers through his hair. He stared at the waves and shook his head. “Open your mind to me. I need to know your true reason for returning to San Diego.”
Gretchen filled his mind, and Lukas ground his teeth. There was no way in hell he could open his mind right now. “Since you were the one who attacked me, I think you’ll understand when I decline your request. What the hell is going on here? Do you always greet old friends with such a warm welcome?”
Calisto’s dark eyes cut over him. “You and I were never friends, Lukas.”
“Maybe not.” Lukas shrugged. “But you still have no reason to kill me on sight.”
“So, why have you come?”
“To find out more about what we are and where we came from.”
“Then you have come to the wrong man.” Calisto turned toward him again, his gaze shifting to his house before focusing back on Lukas. “I know very little about our race.”
“Have you ever met another Night Walker?”
Calisto finally released his fists, calming. “Why would you care after all these years?”
Lukas pressed his palms to his temples, attempting to control his growing irritation. “My reasons don’t matter. Have you met other Night Walkers or not?”
“You ask questions, yet you give me no reason to answer them,” Calisto said.
“You still talk like you’re a riddle-loving three-hundred-year-old Spaniard.”
Calisto raised a brow. “And you speak as though you were born in this century.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere.” Lukas took a step forward, his gaze locked on his maker’s. “Look, you’re the only other Night Walker I’ve ever known. Since I left, I’ve been researching, trying to find out why we exist and what we are.”
Lukas waited but Calisto remained quiet. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, realizing he’d wasted his time coming. “I know we’re similar to vampires, but they don’t have animal spirits like we do. They’re not tied to the earth like we are.”
“You left before I could teach you about the animal spirit inside of you.” Calisto grumbled, then sighed. “We each carry a connection to one animal.”
“I know.” Lukas tried not to remember the night he vanished. “I found out on my own eventually, but it wasn’t until I started researching our origins that I learned more about why
we change.”
Calisto crossed his arms. “If you already know so much about our kind, then why do you question me?”
“Because I’m an archeologist now. My colleague and I found something in the Yucatan jungle… Something deep inside the earth.” Lukas swallowed the fear brewing in his gut and met his maker’s eyes. He lowered his voice. “I found something evil.”
That’s all it took for Calisto to finally invite him inside his spacious home. Lukas related his discovery of Mayan blood altars, the glyphs of the Goddess of the Moon and the wolf.
A muscle in Calisto’s cheek clenched.
Lukas watched as he rose from his chair. “Well?”
“Please wait here.” Calisto hesitated for a moment. “There is someone I think you should meet.”
He left without another word, leaving Lukas alone in the living room. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected his maker’s home to look like, but this wasn’t it. The neutral interior exuded calm and peace, but it also felt lonely. Empty.
Lukas didn’t own a home of any sort. He never had any interest in staying in one place. As far as he was concerned, his tiny studio apartment in New Mexico, the one he hadn’t set foot inside in over two years, was plenty.
The purpose of a home was to have a safe place for a family. A place to put the people that mattered most.
But he would never have that, so he saw little point in owning a house to remind him of that fact. The few pieces of equipment and books he chose to keep were back in his apartment, collecting dust, he assumed. It was just as well.
Lukas turned when he heard the door open. Calisto held hands with a woman. A moment later, Lukas noticed her scent. Or lack of scent. Mortals had an aura of warmth, the metallic scent of blood. This woman had none. Her dark eyes sparkled, her long, black hair shone in the light, and her peaceful smile seemed to calm his maker.
But she wasn’t mortal.
Calisto had made another Night Walker.
Lukas frowned, too stunned to speak.
His conversion had been accidental. He’d suffered a rattlesnake bite, and in trying to save him from the venom, Calisto had stolen his humanity in the process. Once the Night Walker blood swam through his veins, his thirst became unquenchable. Instantly.