by Kira Hillins
The grass shook beside her. With a quick draw of the flashlight, she found the fuzzy white creature standing asleep after a long day of grazing in the field. The idea to lead this poor animal back to camp was preposterous. Sheep to the slaughter, and yet, she didn’t believe in Tristan. He never claimed to be a vampire, just a sick man with a disease—the only sick man with this disease.
What else could she do? If she had to go along with his absurd request to get answers to her questions, then she’d do it. She’d chase sheep in the middle of the night for some poor soul’s sick fantasy.
She grabbed hold of the thick wool around the sheep’s neck and pulled as hard as she could. The animal wouldn’t budge. “Come on.” It jerked from her grasp then ran farther off into the field.
Irritated that the sheep wouldn’t cooperate, she put her hands on her hips and heaved a sigh. “No dummy. Go the other way.” She wondered if this was the same animal that had used her face as a salt lick this morning.
“I will take it from here.” His growling voice sent icy claws up her spine again. She dropped the flashlight to her feet. She turned to find his peaked face next to hers, gaze firmly on the sheep behind her. “Go back to the camp.”
His request was not a statement. Panic spread through her. He brushed her arm as he stalked past her, shoving her just enough with his shoulder to get her feet moving.
With her eyes on the light of the fire, she ran. The lion stalking his prey was nothing more than a sick beast desperate to make her believe in something impossible. He would not sink his teeth into the animal. He would not draw its blood. She had to believe that.
The sheep called out once, and then its voice went silent. The crime was committed. No way would she turn around and investigate. To see the dead body would make her ill.
Tristan had gone too far. Somehow he’d found a way to kill it. He’d carried a knife or a silencer underneath that long black trench coat, but it wasn’t his…fangs.
After a short sprint, she reached the fire that crackled. The sound normally gave her a cozy feeling, but it only made things worse. It chattered as if it meant to distract her from his presence when he arrived, she’d never see him slip in behind her. Then his blade would plunge into her back. He’d laugh as her blood spilled on the ground.
Eyes on the flames, Anna paced. If only the sheep had enough sense to run away. If only her thoughts would clear, giving her sense enough to do the same. With nowhere to run but out into darkness, she did the only thing she could think of. She buried her face in her hands and sat.
“What the hell am I doing here?”
“I am curious as well.” Her spine tingled at the sound of his voice, stern and much stronger than before. He spoke with the same growling undertone she remembered from her childhood.
She looked at him between spread fingers. Tristan stood full and magnificent. His skin was as pale as the moon and his hair black as the night. His dark eyes glistened in the firelight.
She shivered. He’d somehow managed to find the fountain of youth. It was the only explanation to look as young as a thirty-year-old man. He should be gray-haired. He should have wrinkles like an old man, but he was beautiful.
“You are one hell of a magician,” she whispered.
“You do not believe in me?”
“The way you look now has to have a logical explanation. A magic trick, or makeup, but nothing else could make you look as young as me.”
“I am no sorcerer, Anna.”
She glared. “So, because you ate the sheep, you look like this now?”
He chortled. “In a matter of speaking.”
“Anyone could’ve killed the sheep in the field.” She scanned his clothes that now hugged his muscular body. There wasn’t a drop of blood on him that she could see. He’d probably let the animal go and spent the time preparing for his act. “You’re just a liar and a con.”
“You believed in me before. What has changed?”
“Everything’s changed.” She peered into the fire as if asking it for an answer. It offered nothing but chattering nonsense. “I grew up.”
“You have become a beautiful woman.” He gazed down at her. “You look just like—”
“—my mother?”
“Yes.” He lowered his brows. “Mac would not be amused you came to find me.”
No matter how much he tried to intimidate her, she would not show fear. “He sent me here.”
“Do not be absurd. He would never do something reckless as to send you after a killer.”
“Then you admit it.” She trembled, not so much because of fear, but from anger and heartache. Tears welled in her eyes. “You killed them, didn’t you?”
“I have killed many.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why do you cry?”
As he walked around the fire, she hugged her knees. He faced her, hands in his pockets, foot resting on a short stone as he awaited her response. He didn’t deserve to know, but the fire charmed her into confession.
She drew a deep breath. “Mac died three months ago.”
“Mac.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry to hear this.”
Tristan deserved to know the lies he’d told went with Mac to the grave. He was the reason her family was in shambles. He deserved every bit of misery he felt, if, in fact, he felt anything at all. A good con was always in character.
“He died believing in your idiotic stories. He sent me here because he was worried about you.” She wiped tears with the back of her hand. “You killed all the people I care about, including my mother.”
“You think I killed your mother?”
“Yes. Admit it.”
“I did not kill Sia.”
“Don’t you dare say her name!” Fire burned through her veins. She searched the ground for a rock to knock him out cold with. It would make her feel better and give her the opportunity to get away.
“Your mother died giving birth to you. I made a promise that I would take care of her child.”
Anna picked up a jagged stone then stood fast. “Liar! You killed my parents. Then you destroyed Mac’s life.”
The half grin on his lips sent her back a few steps. She was ready to defend herself if he tried to kill her too.
“You may hit me if you like. But I speak the truth. I would never lie to you.”
“You don’t know how to tell the truth. As soon as I get back to town, I’m turning you in for murder, though I should kill you where you stand.”
As she held the stone out in front of her, ready to strike him down, his face softened. “You want me to die, yet you help me regain my strength. You are a hypocrite.” He paced with his hands clasped together behind his back. By the way he grinned he enjoyed her anger, maybe a little too much.
“If anyone’s a hypocrite here, it’s you.” She dropped the rock then fell to her knees. “You promised you’d take care of me. All I wanted was to be with you. But you left me with Mac…and now he’s gone.” If the memories would just go away, the ache in her heart would to.
He knelt before her. He pressed his cool palm against her tear-stricken face. When she looked at him, a calm sensation worked over her. Her thoughts were less clouded than just a moment before.
“There will never be night and day in my world. Only darkness.” He breathed a sigh. “I am a monster, undeserving of your heart. But believe my words; I never desired to leave you. I left to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” She sniffled, embarrassed that she’d cried so hard in front of the man she despised for so many reasons.
He dragged his thumb across the wet skin below her eye. “I would have turned on you if I had stayed.”
“Turned on me?”
“Your blood calls to my senses, Anna. It is unbearable. That is why I left.”
She shuddered as she stared at her reflection in his eyes. “I can’t believe in you anymore. I won’t. You killed everyone I loved.”
“I swear to you, on my eternal life. I did not murder your loved o
nes.”
“Eternal life?” She leaned back from his touch. “That’s enough, Tristan. Vampires are fiction.”
“I am but one diseased man.”
“There are psychiatrists in prison that can help you.”
He sighed. “I have no choice but to make you believe again.”
“How? Another magic trick?”
Tristan raised his upper lip in a sneer. His canines curved downward into a sharp point. It was her imagination, or a trick he’d mastered for his act. She reached out, hand still in the air near his lips. She was apprehensive to touch them, fascinated over the possibility that they were genuine.
“They can’t be real.”
A flicker of light caught her attention. She looked into his eyes. Fire danced in their darkness, but it wasn’t a reflection of flames. They were blood red and glowing intensely all on their own. That irrepressible chill she’d experienced when she found him was now an arctic blast on her skin.
His brows lowered as he leaned in close. He growled as if ready to tear her apart. “Do you believe now?” He gnashed his teeth wildly as he caught her shoulders.
Her bloodcurdling scream echoed around his fallen castle. The truth showed in his unnatural face. She believed in him again. The silly vampire crush she’d carried as a child was now a woman’s nightmare. His intentions were clear—he yearned for her blood.
She scrambled to her feet. She took off out into the dark field, heart thumping with her every step. She ran in hopes he wouldn’t catch her and do to her what he’d done to the sheep.
The tall weeds obscured her vision. She stumbled over rocks and branches. Panting for breath, she glanced back to see if he followed. It was too dark to see anything.
She lost her footing then fell fast to the ground. Her head hit a rock with a crunch. As she lay back on the rough terrain, blood ran down into her eyes. Dizziness swept over her. Then everything around her began to fade.
A monster, a diseased man with an appetite for flesh, had her where he wanted. She was going to die. There was nothing she could do about it now, but let it happen.
Chapter Thirteen
Prisoner
Anna opened her eyes, but only for a moment before they closed again. The brief capture of dark red above her made her aware she no longer lay outside in the grass underneath a black blanket filled with stars, but in a soft bed beneath a heavy comforter.
She sat up and looked around. The canopy above her was dressed in golden tassels and silver streams of rich silk. It reminded her of a queen’s bed in a medieval castle. She didn’t feel worthy dressed in modern clothes that were probably covered in dirt.
She looked down her front. Her camping clothes had been replaced with a white silk gown. Elastic stretched around the neckline with slack enough to drop down around her shoulders. Simple white ribbon was laced in front and tied in a perfect bow.
Warmth spread through her face and neck. The thought of Tristan undressing her was unnerving. Remembering the meeting of eyes, his canines protruding from his mouth, she pulled the comforter over her.
He’d chased her through the field, catching up only because of her clumsiness. If she hadn’t tripped, maybe she’d be in her hotel recuperating or at least on the next flight out of here, wherever here was.
Her head ached. Touching the soft bandage wrapped around the wound, she remembered the jagged rock. It’d been in league with the campfire, and this lone vampire she believed in again.
Vampire! She jumped from the bed. Barefooted, she ran across the cold stone floor to the dresser on the side of the room. She brushed her hair from her neck and inspected for wounds in the round Victorian mirror. No teeth marks—good.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced around. She hugged her torso as she strode toward the open fireplace. Though she could feel the heat from the low-burning fire, a cold draft swirled around her and up inside her gown.
She stopped in her tracks. Tristan’s shadowed frame leaned back against the wall near the fireplace. He stood with a foot nestled on the stone behind him. With his arms folded over his chest, he looked rather perturbed. But then, he’d always carried that look.
“Do not be frightened.”
Frightened?—not at all. He’s only a blood-thirsty demon who wants to kill me. She swallowed apprehension. “Where are my clothes?”
A mischievous grin played on his lips. “Your torn clothing has met their fate in the fire.”
Anna glanced at the wooden door. She could reach it and get out before he caught her. Then, she didn’t know where here was. They could be on top of a mountain in some abandoned castle for all she knew. If that were the case, it was certain what her outcome would be.
Her feet hurt from the cold floor as she went to the fireplace. She lifted her chin like a brave and courageous woman, one who never gave up no matter how difficult the obstacles that lay in her path. By the hungering look in his eyes, he yearned for her blood.
She brushed her hair back away from her neck. “Just get it over with.”
He’d never had this look before, as if he no longer carried misery inside him. He looked at peace, like a normal man with a conscience. Then he laughed.
“You amuse me even now.”
“I’m just making it easy on you.” She lifted her chin. “My blood…calls to you, whatever the hell that means. So just do it…bite me.”
His laughter echoed through the room. “I am too amused to indulge in you, Anna.”
“Amused?” She stamped her foot. “How dare you make fun of me! You have always made me feel like an idiot.”
“When have I ever teased you?”
“The last time we met.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I tried to kiss you, but you pushed me away. Do you know how humiliating that was?”
“You were a child then.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was eighteen with a crush.”
He stepped toward the bedroom window. “Now you stand before me playing games. Nothing has changed. You may be a grown woman, but you still act like an immature child.”
“If anyone’s playing games here, it’s you.” She didn’t mean her words to come out so harshly, but, how could she sympathize? “If you’re going to kill me, then get it over with. But don’t stand here and laugh and call me names.”
He looked at the full moon shining outside the window. “I apologize.”
She hadn’t expected him to be sorry, nor was she ready to tell him it was okay, because none of this was. He’d done the right thing by stopping the argument, and now she wasn’t sure how to respond.
She glanced around at the furniture. The dresser was a giant, and its mirror almost touched the ceiling. It was covered in an abundance of dust, so much that she could barely make out the reflections.
The bed, though, someone had taken care of. Either that or Tristan had cleaned before he’d stuffed her inside the gown and under the covers.
“So, what? Did you bring me to some castle on a tall mountain in the middle of nowhere?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Yes.”
She looked out the window. It was too dark to see how far up she was. “How’d you find this place?”
“It belonged to a friend of mine who threw himself from this very window.”
Beneath his long, dark locks lurked the eyes of a tormented man. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. All those nights she’d fantasized about them being together came back with just a mere glance from him.
She brushed her arm against his, and he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“In ways, Mac reminded me of him.”
He strode to the fire. She followed. The coldness of his stare sent chills over her that increased every time his eyes changed from orange to red, then to black as the night again. He frightened her, but also drew her in. Maybe the change was an emotional outpouring from his soul, a call for help. Or maybe it was a sign that he was ready to take what he wanted. Why had he brought her h
ere if he had no ill intentions?
“I need to call home. I’m sure Betty is worried about me.”
She stared up at him. She wondered if her fear gave off a scent like a strong perfume, if it surrounded her aura, and coaxed him to woo her into a trance. They were so close—close enough to get a kiss she’d desired since her youth.
“I…” He drew a step back. “I will take you to the town tomorrow night.” He strode to the door. “Daylight comes, so I must leave you.”
Her fears returned as if the spell he’d cast on her had broken. “So what makes you think I won’t run away while you sleep?” Yes. There was that bad girl attitude. “You can’t go out in the sunlight.”
His eyes deepened into a prominent shade of red. Those daggered canines showed when he grinned. “You may leave if you like, but you will not get very far.”
His deep growl sent chills through her body, but it didn’t stop her from following him out of the room. “I’m sure I’ll get far enough to find help.”
He descended the large stone staircase and into the great hall of the castle. Candlelight cast a glow, illuminating the golden tapestries that hung on the walls. Light flickered from the chandelier’s crystal stem holders and reflected pastel colors across the floor where they walked.
“It’s so beautiful.” Her whispering voice echoed around her.
“It is inspiring.” Tristan slowed his pace. “Follow me.”
Every so often, she’d catch his glance. Sometimes their eyes met, and she’d pretend not to notice. She could sense his calm, and soon the fire in his eyes disappeared.
He led her through a wooden door and into a large kitchen. “I apologize if you are hungry, but I did not expect you to come here. Until then, there is fruit on the table.”
It sounded as if he’d planned on bringing her here at some point—but why? She shivered at the thought. “I’m not hungry.”
“I will find us something warm to eat tonight.” He glanced out the window near the side entrance door of the kitchen. “The sun is rising, so I must take my leave.”
A plan developed in her mind. While he slept, she would make her escape and hope she’d find her way back to her hotel before nightfall. From there, she’d go home and forget about all of this.