“I know all about you, Mr. Valentine. You’re one of the last great vampires. You feed off innocent people and instill fear in your victims, making their last grueling hours of life hell on Earth.”
That was the last of the information she’d discovered. Rhad Valentine was a vampire. She hadn’t believed it herself at first, but when she’d arrived in Romania, she soon found out that no one doubted the existence of the undead…especially when one lived two valleys over, and there was talk of others, though no one could confirm it.
Rhad twisted his watch around to see the time. “That’s quite an imagination you have there, Miss Bonovich.”
She refused to be intimidated by him. No matter what the cost to her own life, she would find out what happened to her sister. “Tell me how you know me. Did my sister tell you about me?”
Not even a hint of awareness flickered in his gaze. “I’m afraid I don’t know your sister.” He flicked his finger under her chin. “But I let no one stay in my home without knowing who they are.”
“I had no identification on me last night.”
“And you made sure of that, didn’t you?”
His hot breath bathed her cheeks, the scent reminiscent of fine whiskey. “I’ve already told you I don’t know how I got to your house, Mr. Valentine. Whether or not you choose to believe it is your business.” Arms folded underneath her breasts, she challenged him. “So since you say you don’t know my sister, then suppose you tell me how you do know me.”
His fingers splayed out to circle the lower half of her face. “Because I have been expecting you.”
His soul had begun to breathe. Mischa was the woman he’d waited for, the one woman who would free him from the torment of his life. The moment he heard her voice, he knew. The foundation beneath his feet had shifted and just watching her had given him the feeling of rebirth. He didn’t know how she’d gotten to his front door, but he knew why.
He brought his hands to his face and imagined he could still feel the warmth of her skin. Beautiful. Sexy. Passionate. Mischa embodied them all and more.
He poured himself a glass of cognac and swirled it around in the snifter. The fragrance wafted up to him, but he didn’t enjoy the pleasant aroma as he usually did. Something more captured his senses.
He pictured her curves, those graceful long legs, those full breasts, and the proud tilt of her head. Her long, strawberry blonde hair hung to her waist and caught the light as she moved and those eyes—he let out a groan. Perfection. He’d never seen eyes the color of a perfect amethyst.
Mischa Bonovich stirred him, made him remember the male side of the beast within him. He curled his hands into fists. Already he craved her and not the taste of her warm blood cascading over his tongue, but the feel of her body writhing beneath his.
She hypnotized him, and the knowledge was heady. Did the Fates have a hand in her arrival? The question would go unanswered for now. It didn’t matter. She was here, and he felt alive again.
How could a woman create such powerful emotions within a man who’d long ago given up the thought of having any type of real life? He sat down in a red velvet settee and took a sip of the cognac. It glided over his tongue, its taste pure and powerful. Just as the woman upstairs.
The images his mind created only served to taunt him until, with a low curse, he launched himself to his feet, tossing the cognac into the roaring flames inside the fireplace.
“Is she really the one?” The question bounced off the ceiling. “How can I be sure? Is it enough to trust my instincts?” He continued to demand answers, but silence was the only response.
Lowering his head, Rhad leaned one hand against the mantel, his eyes staring at the marble floor beneath his feet. “Shaman, did you send her? I need to know.”
The winds began to howl outside the window, and in an instant, Rhad had his answer, but he needed to know more-much more.
“Why now? It’s been so long. She thinks I know her sister. Do I know her?” He shook his head. “No. I don’t, but you do. Am I right?” Flames leapt higher in the in the fireplace, and with a slight chuckle, Rhad moved away.
“You always were a crafty old bastard.” His shoes clicked against the floor as he headed toward the foyer. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to explain to me why you continued to stay with me all of these years…and what took you so long to send Mischa to me.”
His hand stroking his white beard, the shaman looked down into the castle with a smile. “That is something you will figure out on your own, my young friend.”
The young woman standing next to him placed her hand on his arm. “Do you truly believe he’ll figure it out in time? We can’t let anything happen to Mischa. What if Rhad won’t go with her?” Pretty and slim, she looked so much like her mother. If his heart could beat, it would ache.
“You must have faith, Granddaughter. Mr. Valentine is quite a resourceful fellow.” He managed a grin though he didn’t feel it inside. “You just wait and see. All will be well in the end.” He guided her back from the edge of the cloudy realm, the place that would be their home forever
“As well as it can be,” she corrected him, her voice soft, hurting. “Nothing will change my death.”
Wanting to absorb some of her pain, he wrapped his arm around the woman’s slender waist. “No, but you are protecting your sister. What you do now will ensure Mischa lives for a long, long time. Rhad is one man I know who can save her life.”
“Hamrick won’t risk hurting her. She’s his last link to you. I suppose I should be thankful he got to me before he got to her.”
The shaman’s eyes closed. “Do not talk like that, little one. I only wish I could have warned you in some way, protected you, but this ethereal form will only allow so much interaction with the living.”
She reached up to touch his face, the warmth of her palm reassuring. At least in this world, they could still feel, love. “I don’t blame you. Hamrick is a desperate man, and desperate men always do irrational things.”
Though she said the words with so much conviction, the shaman read the truth between the lines. She hadn’t accepted her death, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d been old when he’d crossed the mortal realm, but she’d been far too young, a mere twenty-two. Bitterness was a part of the grieving process. All he could offer her now was comfort and the assurance that her sister would enjoy a long and fulfilling life…if things went according to plan.
Perfect. Just beautiful. Mischa Bonovich was out of the country. Her next door neighbor, a batty old woman who was in the mood to chat, didn’t blink twice about telling him where Mischa had taken off to.
Romania. Travel would tick off another precious day, and it wasn’t like the country was the size of Rhode Island. Somewhere in the middle of millions of people was his last remaining link to the shaman.
It would be like trying to locate a particular snowflake in the middle of a blizzard. His security guys were already digging for Mischa’s itinerary, but in the meantime, he was about to board a flight for a country where English wasn’t the predominant language.
Even with the woman’s location available, it would still take time he didn’t have to get to her. With Romania being over 92,000 square miles, information supplied by his secretary who thought she was helping, Mischa Bonovich could be at the farthest end from the airport.
After popping another pain pill, he handed the flight receptionist his boarding pass and sought out his seat for the 4,000 plus mile journey. His head continued to throb, despite the medication. The neurologist had warned that would happen. Then he’d talked about a morphine pump. That was when Hamrick had tuned him out.
He wasn’t looking for something to stop the pain. He was looking for someone to save his life.
Night fell, and Rhad Valentine hadn’t returned. Arrogant bastard. If not for the food deliveries, Mischa might have been alone in the house. The housekeeper offered very few words in thick Romanian, making it clear she wasn’t interested in a conversation. She simply
placed the tray on the bedside table, gave Mischa a baleful stare, and marched out of the room like she’d been summoned by the queen.
Mischa pressed a hand to her throat and shivered. What had she gotten herself into? She was in a vampire’s castle. His lair. What on earth had possessed her to think this man might really help her find her sister? And how in the hell had she ended up on his doorstep?
There was definitely trouble brewing in the air, and had Mischa not come from a long line of believers in the black arts, she might have been spooked. But her mother had warned her to always be on the look out for danger…to never let her guard down.
And the one time she had, Mischa found herself inside a vampire’s castle with no means of protecting herself. The question was: would she need to protect herself from Rhad Valentine? Though her sister had extolled his virtues, he certainly didn’t look like the friendly, assisting type.
And as far as she knew, she could be his midnight snack. Maybe that was why he wanted her to eat. The shivering intensified. Well, she wasn’t going to fatten up so he would enjoy his meal more.
She sat on the bed, her legs curled underneath her in a lotus position. Trying to meditate was useless. A pair of turquoise eyes haunted her. She flopped back against the stack of pillows behind her and cursed the attraction curling within the pit of her stomach.
Desire sizzled along every nerve ending. Rhad Valentine had overwhelmed her when he’d walked into the room for the first time. He’d taken her breath away, and she wondered if, before her mission was over, he would take her life.
She fought back the panic and remembered that she had taken an online course for just such an occasion.
“How to kill any vampire” promised immediate results with a money back guarantee. Mischa guessed the friends she’d named as beneficiaries would be collecting that if the class failed. Of course, she never actually believed in the class, but taking it had given her some sense of control over her fears.
“Oh, Rianna, where are you, and why did you come all the way back to Romania on this quest of yours? Why could you not have been happy in Boston?” She reverted to her native Romanian tongue as she spoke and combined her thoughts with prayers, praying benediction for her wayward sister. “Soră Fates , a face pe plac la ai grijă de Rianna. Ea este tînăr şi nu de asemenea wise la timp. Chiar ceas încă o dată ei pînă la I a putea află ei. Apoi atunci I’ll a lua încă o dată.”
Sister Fates, please take care of Rianna. She is young and not too wise at times. Just watch over her until I can find her. Then I’ll take over. Just as she had since their parents had died seven years ago.
She’d never complained even though she was forced to give up her dream of being an opera star. This had simply been her lot in life. Rianna’s dreams were more important now, and though her younger sister had made a few mistakes in life, Mischa could not imagine her own life without her sibling’s irreverence and carefree spirit.
Her soul nourished by the strength of the prayer, Mischa jumped to her feet and donned the jeans and flowing, white peasant blouse the housekeeper had bought for her. Not exactly her first clothes of choice, but it certainly beat facing the vampire in a toga again…that was if he was even in the house.
She creaked open the bedroom door. Gas lamps lined the hallway, providing just enough light for her to find her way to the top of the stairs. She refused to call for help, determined to find her own way to the master’s den.
“Mischa, how nice to see you out and about,” Rhad spoke from the bottom of the stairs.
She jumped. The shadows barely allowed her to make out the planes of his face, but the deep timbre of his voice was enough to restart the shivers. “You have a habit of sneaking up on people.”
“I cannot sneak in my own home.”
“Whatever. We have to talk.” She reached the bottom landing and swept past him, trying to ignore the way her heart leaped to her throat as the sleeve of her blouse brushed against his arm. She refused to be seduced by a creature of the night, and yet, her body responded, awakening with the need for sensual pleasure.
Rhad swept out a hand, his fingers pointed toward an open door. “As you wish. Here is my study.”
Mischa walked ahead of him, her head held high. The scent of leather assaulted her nostrils, and she spared a glance at her surroundings, eager to take her mind off the man following her.
Rich, gold-embossed books adorned walls lined with shelves. Executive chairs with intricately carved legs and wooden floors polished to a shine set the scene, and the thick, heavy drapes added the finishing touch to the room. She could picture Rhad wearing a black cloak and hair gel while twisting his moustache.
She looked over a shoulder at him. “Nice decorating job.”
“Since I know you were only being facetious, I’ll refrain from thanking you. Please, sit down.”
Mischa did but didn’t waste time before she launched into her diatribe. “I want to know where my sister is, and don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Her name is Rianna Bonovich, and I know you were the last person she saw before she went missing. You’re all she talked about. That’s how I know all about you. I know everything about you.”
He sat opposite her and assumed a relaxed posture though Mischa was sure his muscles were tensed. “Everything?”
“Absolutely.” She scooted to the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “Didn’t I already know about your vampire status?” Her voice dropped a notch as if she were imparting a secret.
Rhad didn’t blink. “If such is the case, then why would you throw yourself on my doorstep? Aren’t you risking your own life?”
“I didn’t throw myself on your doorstep.” How insulting. She couldn’t deny that someone had thrown her there, but she would have retained her dignity…and her clothes…had she any choice in the matter.
“So you just fell on your way to my door?”
Her teeth nibbled at her lower lip. “That’s a subject for a different time especially since I’m not quite sure how I got here. Although, if I thought it would ensure my sister’s safety, I would do anything.”
“Including die for her then?”
A lump formed in Mischa’s throat. “If I have to.”
“I don’t know your sister, Mischa.”
“You’re lying.”
Fury flashed in Rhad’s eyes, and he got to his feet. “I believe I’ve already told you that I do not lie.”
She got to her feet to stand in front of him, determined not to back down from the danger he presented. “That’s a load of bullshit. I know you know my sister. She spoke of you often when we talked on the phone.”
“And did she tell you the things I had said to her?”
The first inkling of doubt tickled the back of her mind. The conversations she’d had with Rianna had almost always been about Rhad but never about any communications Rianna might have had with him.
Determined not to let her own doubts sway her, Mischa shot back. “That’s beside the point. I know my sister, and it’s obvious you’re not a figment of her imagination.”
Though Rhad’s jaw tightened, he ran one finger down her upper arm and dipped his head lower. “You should not take chances when you do not have all the facts.”
Dark and dangerous, he stared into her upturned face, and Mischa wondered if she’d pushed him too far. Anger flashed in his eyes, and though she wanted to take a step back, she forced herself to remain in place.
“I have what I need.”
His hand traveled to her face and he gently stroked her cheek. “Mischa, if you think to threaten me because a story in cyberspace told you I was one of the undead, then you really don’t know anything about me.”
She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. “What makes you think I found out about you online? Perhaps you’re not the only vampire I’ve seen.”
His chuckle was infuriating. “Do not play games with me, little one. I have never been defeated.”
Reali
zation struck like the chiming of a grandfather clock, and a cold chill swept over her body. “You really knew I was coming, didn’t you?” Common sense told her to back out now…to get the hell out of Dodge while she still could. But it was too late. Running wasn’t an option.
“Would my answer make any difference? Would you not have come anyway? You just said you would do anything for your sister so I assume you would change nothing about your current situation.”
She hated his mocking tone. What she hated even more was her body’s reaction to his touch. Places tingled she was pretty sure had never tingled before. And his eyes mesmerized her. She’d never seen that shade of green on a man, but on him the color was appropriate. It allowed him to hypnotize his victims. She found herself staring into the liquid pools and leaning toward him. Her will power was crumbling like the Berlin Wall.
Forcing herself to hang onto her determination, she threw caution to the winds and gripped a hand full of his starched, white shirt, trying to shake him. “Where is she? Tell me where she is, or I swear to God, I will kill you myself.”
Rhad covered her hands with his. “You mean because you took a course online? You think that really will teach you how to handle someone like me?”
How did he know so much about her? And the class? Could he read her mind? The thought unnerved her. Mischa licked her dry lips. “I did have a stake with me, but it must have gotten lost prior to my arrival.”
He dropped his hands down to his sides. “Perhaps that was for the best then.”
Her arms folded underneath her breasts, she assumed a challenging posture. “You think I couldn’t kill you? Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Valentine. I’m more than capable of protecting my family.”
His palm slid alongside her cheek. “Did it ever occur to you that you were brought to my home for a reason other than your own?”
Her gaze stabbed him. He was deliberately trying to throw her off-guard. “It doesn’t matter why I was ‘brought’ here. The fact remains I was coming here anyway so here I am.” When he didn’t speak, she continued. “I know you were the last person to see my sister, and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what I need to know to find her.”
Vampire Forgotten Page 2