Night's Mistress (Children of the Night #5)

by Amanda Ashley

  After Runs With Thunder left the fort, I contemplated leaving as well. Instead, I followed Custer’s regiment from a distance. What a grand sight they made, with Custer riding proudly at their head while the band played “Garry Owen.”

  I had met Custer at a dance at the fort shortly before he left. I had thought him an arrogant fool. He was so sure of victory, so certain that he was indestructible.

  I trailed the Seventh by night and burrowed into the welcoming arms of the earth by day. Resting in the ground on June 25, 1876, I heard the sounds of battle as white man and red man met on the banks of the Little Big Horn. I heard the war cries of the Lakota and the Cheyenne, the bugle calls of the Seventh Cavalry, the gunshots and the sibilant hiss of arrows flying through the air, the screams and sobs of the wounded and the dying. Even buried deep in the earth, I smelled the blood as it soaked the ground. So much blood.

  And later, I listened to the silence.

  And then came the high-pitched keening of the Indian women as they grieved for their dead.

  I rose with the setting of the sun. The battlefield was littered with corpses. The Indians had carried their dead away, but I prowled the battlefield, looking for Runs With Thunder.

  I had been about to abandon my search when I found him, badly wounded. He had crawled away from the battlefield and lay in a shallow ravine, hidden behind a clump of sage. He smelled of blood. And death.

  “Runs With Thunder.” Calling his name, I sank to my knees beside him, shook him when he didn’t answer. “Thunder, answer me!”

  Slowly, his eyes opened. He looked at me blankly for a moment, and then his lips formed my name, though no sound emerged.

  “I can’t let you die,” I whispered, stroking his cheek. “Your spirit guide was right. I’m going to change your life. I hope you won’t hate me for it.”

  He tried to speak, but it was beyond him. His heartbeat was sluggish, heavy. His eyes filled with horror when I bent over him, my fangs extended. And then, smiling faintly, he closed his eyes.

  His blood was warm and sweet as I drained him of what he hadn’t lost in the battle, drank until he was a breath away from death, and then I bit into my wrist. When I held it to his lips and bid him drink, he did so greedily.

  When I felt he had taken enough, I carried him away from the Little Big Horn into a cave high in the Black Hills. In the nights that followed, I taught him what it meant to be a vampire—how to feed, how to shut his mind to the barrage of sound that assaulted him on every side, how to call his prey to him.

  I took him to New York and Rome, to London and Los Angeles. We hunted the nights together, and it was wonderful. But, after a year or so, he began to long for the Paha Sapa and his own people.

  “I must go home,” he said. “Back to the Lakota. Come with me, chikala.”

  I considered it, but in the end, I knew that as much as I cared for him, I would never be happy living in a hide lodge. Selfish creature that I was, I wanted to wear the latest fashions, not a buckskin tunic and moccasins. The Dakota sky at night was beautiful, but I wanted the bright lights of Paris. The Great Plains were quiet, the Black Hills majestic, but I favored tall buildings and city streets, all the better to get lost in.

  We made love one last time and he fell asleep in my arms. Not wanting to say good-bye, I left him while he slept. I saw him from time to time through the years. I never blocked the blood link between us as I did with so many others; instead, I kept it open so that I would always know where he was . . .

  Thinking of him now was like losing him all over again. With a sigh, she saved her work and closed the document. She had been in Chicago in 1947, buying a new wardrobe, when she felt Runs With Thunder’s life force fade and finally disappear. There was no way to describe the feeling, but she had known when he drew his last breath. It was a pain like nothing she had ever felt before. Filled with sorrow, she had gone to ground for the next ten years.

  Runs With Thunder had been her last fledgling, until Vince came along. She had turned no one since then.

  And now she never would again, she thought with a sigh of regret, but perhaps it was just as well.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lou McDonald leaned back in her chair, her feet propped on a corner of her desk as she listened to the latest update from Cindy.

  “Mara had another appointment last night. According to her chart, the baby’s growing and gaining weight and Ramsden isn’t expecting any complications. Oh, one more thing. I overheard him tell Susan that he thinks Mara’s either lost her powers or she’s losing them.”

  “What do you mean, lost them?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t hear the whole conversation. Is it possible she isn’t a vampire anymore?”

  Lou grunted softly. “Who knows what’s possible these days? Kind of makes sense, though.” She drummed her fingertips on her thigh. “If she’s not a vampire anymore, it would explain how she could get pregnant.”

  “True enough,” Cindy agreed.

  “Anything else new on that end?”

  “Not really. What’s going on with you? Made any kills lately?”

  “Just one. It’s not as easy as it once was, you know, now that the vamps have gone back underground, so to speak.”

  “Underground,” Cindy muttered. “That’s a good one. Which one did you take out?”

  “Travis Jackson. I caught him off guard in L.A. He went down hard.”

  “Chalk up one for the good guys,” Cindy said, a smile in her voice.

  “I’ll get his grandmother one of these days, and that other old broad, too,” Lou said in her best wicked Witch of the West voice.

  “I can’t believe those two old ladies are giving you so much trouble,” Cindy said with a laugh. “I mean, come on, girl.”

  “Hey, if you can do better, go for it.”

  “Very funny.”

  “They’re not as easy to corner as you might think. They used to be hunters, remember? They know all the tricks that hunters use, which makes them twice as hard to find. But I’ll get ’em. Both of them. You wait and see.”

  “I know you will. Listen, I’ve got to go. Ramsden’s calling me.”

  “All right. Talk at ya later.” Lou tossed her cell phone on the desk, then gazed out her office window. Hunters had been trying to destroy Mara for centuries and they had all failed. But she wouldn’t fail, and when it was a fait accompli, her customers would double and so would the price of her services.

  She was about to leave her office when her business phone rang. She stared at it a moment, then decided to let the machine pick it up.

  “Lou? This is Kyle Bowden. Dammit, where the hell have you been?”

  “Avoiding you,” she muttered, then swore softly when her cell phone rang. Knowing she couldn’t avoid him forever, she picked up the phone. “What can I do for you, Bowden?”

  “You can do what I’m paying you for. I want to know where Mara is, now. No more games, no more evasions.”

  Lou considered a moment, then shrugged. What could it hurt if Kyle knew where Mara was, as long as Lou knew where they both were? “She’s in Tyler, Nevada, just outside of Reno.”

  “What’s she doing there?”

  “Her doctor is there. Thomas A. Ramsden. He’s not listed in the phone book, but his office is on Franklin, between the bank and the post office.”

  With a muttered “Thanks,” Bowden ended the call.

  Lou grunted softly. It might have been a mistake, telling Bowden where to find Mara, but what the hell? The guy was in love and the baby was due in a few weeks. Might as well let him spend a little time with the mother of his child while he could, since Mara’s days were numbered one way or the other once the baby was born. If Ramsden didn’t kill her, Lou would take her head, vampire or not.

  With that thought in mind, Lou went home to pack a bag. Whatever went down when the baby was born, she intended to be there to see it all firsthand.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Logan stared at Mara, a bemuse
d expression on his face. “You want to learn how to drive a car, now?” He glanced at her ample girth.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked with a frown. “Don’t you think I’ll fit behind the wheel?”

  His laughter thrilled her even as it irritated her. “Come on,” he said, “there’s nothing to it.”

  As it turned out, sitting behind the wheel, even with the seat all the way back, turned out to be a tight fit.

  Mara glared at Logan. “Don’t say a word.”

  He shrugged as he settled into the passenger seat. “I’m not the one who ate a whole pizza last night.”

  “I didn’t eat the whole thing!” She hadn’t eaten the crust.

  He wisely refrained from making a comment. Instead, he spoke to the car and the engine revved to life.

  “There’s nothing to driving,” he said. “You just tell the car where you want to go, and it’ll take you there.”

  “That’s not how you do it.”

  “Yeah, well, I like being in control.”

  “I want to drive, the old-fashioned way.”

  “Put your seat belt on.”

  “You don’t wear yours.”

  He didn’t say anything, just looked at her. She felt a rush of resentment. He was a vampire. He didn’t need a seat belt. She did.

  Logan spoke to the car, telling it to release control to the driver, then he looked at Mara. “Okay, that’s the gas,” he said, pointing. “That’s the brake. Those are the headlights. Make sure the street is clear before you pull out of the driveway. Hey,” he admonished as she stepped down hard on the gas pedal, “take it easy.”

  She backed out of the driveway, the car jerking crazily down the road until she got a feel for the gas pedal. She smiled, immensely pleased with herself when she managed to keep the car moving smoothly.

  “Where should I go?” she asked.

  “Turn left at the corner. There’s a long stretch down Winter Ridge Drive that won’t have much traffic this time of night. Don’t forget to signal for the turn.”

  He clicked on the radio, then sat back, content to watch her while she got a feel for the car. He grinned. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her lower lip caught between her teeth. He glanced at her abdomen. It still amazed him that she was pregnant. The fact that he wished the child was his was even more surprising, but there it was. He was one of the oldest vampires in existence, more powerful than any creature who walked the earth, and he was jealous of the puny human male who had sired her child.

  “Pathetic,” he muttered. “Just pathetic.”

  “What?”

  “I said turn right.”

  “That’s not what you said.”

  “Well, it’s what I’m saying now.”

  She turned down the road he indicated, frowned as the road climbed higher and higher and got narrower and narrower until they ran out of road. A full moon shone down on a patch of tall grass surrounded by a stand of timber. Putting her foot on the brake, she looked at Logan and said, “Now what?”

  Leaning forward, he switched off the engine and turned off the lights.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He flicked a switch. The console between the seats disappeared. The steering wheel folded up and slid out of sight.

  Mara lifted an inquisitive brow as Logan turned toward her, one arm stretched along the back of the seat. “Is this part of the lesson?” she asked.

  “The best part. It used to be called ‘parking.’”

  “Parking?”

  “Didn’t you ever park in a car and neck?”

  “No. Did you?”

  “Sure, it was all the rage in the late fifties. Of course, kids don’t do it much today. They just go to a motel.”

  “You weren’t a kid when parking was popular.”

  Logan shrugged. “It was still fun,” he said, moving closer. “Wanna give it a try?”

  “Well, as long as it’s part of the lesson,” she said, trying not to grin.

  “Radio,” Logan said, “play some tunes from the fifties.”

  He put his arm around Mara and drew her up against him as Bonnie Guitar’s voice came over the speaker and the words to “Dark Moon” wafted through the air.

  “So,” Mara said, her voice shaky as his tongue laved the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Is this still part of lesson one?”

  “Yes, and this is lesson two,” he murmured, and claimed her lips with his.

  Kissing Logan was like diving into a deep, warm pool. She felt weightless, breathless, as he deepened the kiss. Every nerve ending hummed to life as sensual heat flooded her being. The music faded into the distance as Logan became her whole world. He was the air she breathed, her reason for living. His mouth moved over hers, now as light and gentle as a summer breeze, now hard and demanding. His tongue dueled with hers while his hands moved over her body, his touch tender, almost reverent.

  She shivered with pleasure as he whispered love words in her ear, soft sweet words that made her feel beautiful, desirable. When she was trembling with need, certain she would expire or explode, he lifted her out of the car. Holding her close, he opened the trunk and grabbed a blanket. Nuzzling her neck, he spread the blanket on a patch of grass, lowered her onto it, and dropped down beside her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously.

  “You stopped kissing me, so I was wondering if that was the end of lesson two.”

  “What do you think?” he asked with a roguish grin.

  She slipped her hand under his shirt. Her fingers rubbed back and forth across his belly, then slipped inside his trousers. “I think I’m ready for lesson three.”

  “You keep that up,” he growled, “and we’ll skip right to lesson four.”

  Closing her eyes, she flung her arms out to the side. “Teach me,” she murmured. “Teach me everything.”

  “You asked for it.”

  He stretched out beside her, his arm sliding under her shoulders, drawing her body up against his, letting her feel the heat and strength of his arousal as he covered her mouth with his.

  She moaned softly as his tongue tangled with hers. Caught up in his kisses, she hardly noticed the disappearance of their clothing until she felt his bare skin against hers.

  She ran her hands over his back, his chest, loving the hard, muscular strength beneath her questing fingertips, the way his muscles quivered at her touch, the groan that rose in his throat as her hands caressed him.

  Effortlessly, he rolled over, carrying her with him, so that she ended up on the top.

  “Oh,” she purred, “I like this.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I didn’t want to squish you, or the little one,” he said, and kissed her, slow and long and deep. “A taste?”

  “You told me I tasted like poison,” she said, pouting.

  “You’re human now, so . . .” He shrugged. “I’m willing to risk it.”

  She gazed up at the sky, her body quivering as his fangs brushed her skin. There was no pain, only a rush of sensual pleasure, a sense of satisfaction that came with knowing her life’s blood was nourishing him.

  “Logan, let me taste you.”

  He didn’t argue, didn’t question, merely made a slit in the pad of his thumb with his teeth and held it to her lips. His blood slid down her throat, hot and thick. It increased her desire, amplified her senses, heightened her pleasure as his body melded with hers.

  It was, in a word, amazing. Drinking from humans had been wondrous beyond compare. Why had it never occurred to her that the opposite misght also be true? If humans knew how wonderful a small drop of vampire blood tasted, how it magnified human senses, hunters would be seeking vampires more zealously than they did now, not for their heads, but for their blood.

  Logan moved deep within her. Fulfillment came quickly and completely.

  He kissed her gently, tenderly. “Thus endeth the lessons for tonight,” he murmured, and
rolled onto his side, taking her with him, so they lay face to face, their bodies still entwined.

  “Logan . . .”

  “What is it, love?”

  “Tasting your blood.” She gazed into his eyes, her own filled with wonder. “It made me feel . . . it was almost like being a vampire again! Did you know? Did you know it would make me feel like that?” Why hadn’t she known how vampire blood affected humans? And why had it never occurred to her before?

  “I’ve heard rumors to that effect.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it can be addicting.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “And in the long run, it’s dangerous.”

  “I want more.”

  “Maybe after the baby is born.”

  The baby. Mara slid her hand between her body and Logan’s. Of course, concern for the baby had to come first. But after he was born . . . She smiled inwardly. If she couldn’t be a vampire again, tasting Logan’s blood would be the next best thing.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Mara blew out a sigh as she smoothed her skirt over her hips. She was heartily tired of shapeless maternity clothes, swollen ankles, having to relieve herself every five minutes, and visits to the doctor, who now wanted to see her every week, and who had chided her, once again, for gaining too much weight.

  Logan was waiting for her in the lobby of Ramsden’s office. He looked up and smiled when he saw her.

  Running into him at this time of her life had truly been a blessing, Mara thought as she walked toward him. He had been the one thing she could count on these past months, the only thing in her life that didn’t change from day to day. At first, she hadn’t planned to stay with him after the baby was born, but more and more she found herself wondering what she would ever do without him. As a vampire, she had been fearless, indomitable. As a mortal woman who would soon be responsible for a baby, she wasn’t sure she could face the future alone. If not for Logan, she would now be dead by Rogen’s hand. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed someone to protect her and her unborn child from her enemies.