Her defenses would be gone. She would be alone, but lonely now, no longer content to hide in the shadows of her past. For a moment she glimpsed the bleak years crawling by, years without Nick. Years without love. The thought became almost unbearable.
But his eyes. His eyes made her want to forget all that, made her want to think only of the present and of having him hold her in his arms. His eyes made her quiver with anticipation for the fulfillment the next few moments would bring her. His eyes made her want what she had never had before.
He took her hand in his. Silently they moved to the bedroom and stood in the moonlight, kissing, touching one another, fingers fumbling with clothing as they undressed. Erin’s heart thundered in her ears. She couldn’t stop looking at his eyes.
“Why do you hide them?” she whispered.
He paused, his gaze holding her in thrall. “They say the eyes are a window to the soul. I’ve never wanted anyone to see mine.”
“Not even me?”
His smile was almost grim. “Especially not you. I didn’t think you’d like what you saw.” Erin glimpsed a deep sorrow in those gray depths, a dark loneliness that took her breath away, and it gave her a small measure of comfort to know that when he had to leave her, it wouldn’t be without regret.
When the last of their clothing dropped to the floor, Slade stared down at her.
“Erin,” he said raggedly, “do you have any idea how beautiful you are? How much I want you?” The intensity of his gaze made her tremble. Unconsciously, Erin took a step back, but his arm shot out and he grasped her, imprisoning her as much with his eyes as with his hand. “Do you want to stop this, Erin? It’s not too late. Say the word—”
“No,” she said fiercely. Her gaze raced over him, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat. He wanted her. There could be no denying that, and a surge of strength flowed through her accompanied by a thrill of excitement. “I don’t want to stop. I want this. I want you. Oh, Nick.” She reached for him and he enfolded her in his arms. Erin closed her eyes, almost overcome with emotion. “I’ve been dead inside for so long. With you, I feel so—”
“I know.” His arms tightened around her as his lips touched her hair. “Believe me, I know.” He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head back as his lips slowly descended toward hers. Erin trembled inside with wanting, with needing him so.
How could a kiss be so passionate and demanding, and yet so tender and giving? Be so possessive, and yet so empowering? Erin had never felt so weak and yet so strong as she did in his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, letting their bodies touch as their tongues entwined, the kiss deepening with an abandon that made her heart race.
He lifted her, bringing their bodies even more intimately together, and Erin gasped, breaking the kiss. She clasped his shoulders, and her head tipped back as his lips moved to her neck, found the pulse point that gave away her excitement, and lingered. Then he bent his head further, and his mouth found her breasts. He caressed each tip with his tongue, and the exquisite sensation he created nearly drove Erin crazy. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she cried out.
Slade answered her passion with a low, desperate groan, fitting their bodies together even more tightly as he moved across the room to the bed, letting her tumble gently backward, still holding on to her. He positioned himself over her, and their lips were only inches apart as she gazed deeply into his eyes.
“I’ve never felt like this…” She trailed off, unable to voice her emotions.
“Like what? Tell me how you feel, Erin,” he demanded, tracing a finger across her lips.
Erin shuddered, her body responding to even so slight a touch from him. “Excited,” she replied huskily, glorying in the feel of his body on hers. “Desperate. Frightened.”
“You’re afraid of me?” The deep, liquid tones had never sounded so gentle.
“You’re like the night,” she murmured. “You scare me and yet you fascinate me. You make me want to learn all your secrets. You make me want to be…a part of you somehow.”
“I want that, too,” he said softly, his eyes glowing with an inner fire that warmed Erin all the way to her soul.
“Nick,” she whispered, “Please…”
“Yes,” he breathed, his lips against hers. “I’ll take care of everything, Erin.” And then his mouth sought hers once more as he pulled her to him in an embrace so passionate that Erin felt breathless and shivery and utterly protected. Her fears ebbed away as the desire mounted between them.
One kiss melted into the next. One touch led to another. For an eternity, Slade possessed her body with his lips and his hands and his eyes. And when Erin thought she could stand no more, when her body screamed for that final, ultimate release, he joined his body with hers, making her a part of him.
The shock of him inside her made Erin cry out. Instantly Slade’s movements stilled. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his expression shuttered, as if he didn’t want her to see the exertion of his control.
“No,” Erin said quickly. “It’s just…it’s been so long…and only a few times…” Her face flamed at the acknowledgment.
Slade buried his face in her neck. His lips grazed her cheek. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” The discomfort was gone now, Erin realized, and in its place was a sense of fulfillment, a feeling of completeness she had never known before. She gave a slight movement with her hips and a thrill of excitement raced through her. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded, running her fingers through his hair. “I’ll die if you stop.”
“So will I,” he groaned, and his body began to move inside her once again.
He held her as Erin had never been held before. He touched her in a way Erin had hardly dared dream of. He whispered to her, telling her things that made her breathless with excitement, that made her want him even more. If this was darkness, then Erin wanted to be lost in it forever.
A new sensation sprang up inside Erin. With every thrust it grew and strengthened until she wondered how she would be able to stand it. She’d never felt such pleasure, never experienced such closeness with another. It made her want to draw him deeper and deeper inside her. It made her want the night to never end.
But the pleasure turned to frantic urgency. She clutched the sheet with anxious fingers. “Oh, Nick. I don’t think…I can do this….”
“Let it happen,” he said deeply. He kissed her brows, her nose, her lips. “Let go.”
“But I feel so…helpless….”
“Trust me,” he murmured. “Just trust me.” He quickened his thrusts, responding to the demands of her body. Erin was on fire. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel. She looked up into his eyes, his beautiful, beautiful eyes, and felt the world shatter around her.
* * *
Slade stared into the darkness, his arms wrapped around Erin as she slept. Lying here like this, she seemed so vulnerable, so light and fragile. Yet he knew she could be strong when she had to be. He’d witnessed her resolve more than once. But would it be enough to sustain her when she found out the truth—about him, about everything?
God, he wished she never had to know. He wished he could hold her like this forever, shutting out the rest of the world, hiding her away from the evil that stalked the night. He wished at that moment for so many things.
If only the guilt he harbored would go away and free him to love a woman like Erin. But that was impossible, as remote a possibility as water on the moon. Slade could never have someone like her. The darkness in his life would taint her. Already he’d stolen something precious from her; he had taken her trust. What more would he wrest from her before all was said and done? Her life? Her soul?
He got up, slipped on his jeans and walked into the living room. He poured himself a glass of brandy, carried it to the window and stared out into the darkness with a brooding frown.
What had he done? he asked himself in disgust. What the hell had he
done to Erin tonight? He’d brought them together as closely as a man and woman could be. He’d forged a bond between them that wouldn’t be easily severed, no matter how many miles—or how much darkness—separated them. He’d made her need him almost as much as he needed her.
It was strange, he thought grimly. He’d never thought much about loneliness, but already he ached inside at the thought of a time when she would no longer be in his life, when the glimmer of light she’d brought back to him would be taken from him once again.
A noise from the bedroom startled him, and he whipped his head around to listen. It sounded like a groan, and he wondered as he headed toward the door if Erin might be having a nightmare, or if she might be sick. He stood stock-still in the doorway, arrested by the sight that met his eyes.
Erin was lying on top of the covers, moonlight silvering her naked body with a soft, subtle glow. Her dark hair spread like an exotic fan across her pillow as she tossed her head back and forth. She muttered something, and Slade stepped closer, straining to hear. Chills raced up and down his spine.
“No,” she moaned. “Please, no.”
The bedroom seemed strangely cold. Slade’s eyes narrowed as he looked swiftly around the room. The window was cracked slightly, and a draft of wind seeped through. Dead tree limbs scratched against the glass like a lost soul trying to get in.
Slade’s gaze went back to Erin as she moaned again and twisted on the tangled sheets, almost as if she was in the throes of deep ecstasy. With a start, he realized that he was getting turned on watching her, even though a part of him felt betrayed. Angry. She was indeed dreaming, and it obviously wasn’t a nightmare. Suspicion seeped its way into his mind. Just who the hell was she dreaming about?
The breeze outside picked up, and the feel of it inside the room made Slade’s flesh crawl. There was something unnatural about it. Something evil. Something that reminded him of a night eight years ago—
He strode across the room and slammed down the window. Erin’s movements immediately quieted. She lay back against the pillow, sighing softly. In regret or in relief? he wondered.
Slade stalked over to the bed and leaned over her. “Erin, wake up. You were having a dream.” He gave her arm a little shake.
Erin’s eyes flew open. For a moment she looked dazed, lost, then her eyes cleared and she gasped, jerking the sheet over her naked body and clutching it to her chest. “What happened?” Her eyes were wide with shock, and something else, something that looked a little bit like guilt.
“You tell me,” he said. “Just who were you dreaming about?”
A spark of anger flashed in her eyes before she lowered her gaze. “You,” she said. “I was dreaming about you.”
He tightened his hold on her arm. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” she uttered softly.
Take it easy, he told himself firmly, realizing his error. None of this was Erin’s fault. He was letting the memories get to him. Just because Simone had dreamed of someone else when he’d held her in his arms didn’t mean the same would happen with Erin. Drake D’Angelo was dead, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. Simone was dead. The past was dead. But he and Erin were alive. Wasn’t that all that mattered?
He loosened his grip and rubbed his hands up and down her bare skin. She was so soft and smooth and felt so damned good. He wanted her again, he realized. He wanted her moaning and writhing again, but beneath him this time. Or on top of him. He didn’t give a damn, just as long as it was him she made love to. So long as he was inside her and soon. Just as long as she knew that she belonged to him—at least for tonight.
He could tell by the subtle glow in her eyes that she wanted him, too. Slade stood and tugged off his jeans, kicking them aside as he stepped toward the bed and climbed in beside Erin. He gathered her in his arms and she turned willingly toward him, lifting her lips for his kiss before he even had time to think.
She was so eager, he thought. Gloriously giving but not without her own demands. In fact, she was quickly taking the lead this time. She shoved him on his back, trailing kisses over his face, down his neck, until her tongue flicked across the pulse in his throat.
He tangled his fingers in her hair, drawing her face up to his for a long, deep kiss. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, and she groaned erotically, stirring his blood even more. He wanted her. All of her. Over and over and over. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her. Not in this lifetime.
He drew her over him until she was straddling him, and then he pulled her close until he could taste first one breast, and then the other. She gasped, her breath coming in fast little pants as she straightened, tightening her thighs around his hips. She reached down and her hand closed over him. Slade thought he would explode from the sensation. She was so bold, he marveled. Not at all like the Erin of a little while earlier. A wave of uneasiness washed over him, but her hand was moving on him, exerting just the right amount of pressure, and he couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.
“Enough,” he rasped, propelling himself forward to grab her. He rolled them both over until she was on the bottom and he was lying over her. This time, he was the one who reached downward, parting her thighs with his hand, feeling her moist heat with his fingers. She lifted her hips, inviting a deeper touch and Slade removed his hands, thrusting inside her. He set a fast rhythm and she immediately responded, her untutored movements an aphrodisiac to his already heightened senses. “Who were you dreaming about, Erin?” he gasped, driving inside her deeper, harder, faster, until he thought the whole damned universe must be spinning out of control around them. “Who?” he said again.
“You.” Her nails raked across his back as she clung to him, drawing him even closer.
“And who are you making love to?” he demanded.
“You. Only you.”
“Say my name. I have to hear you say my name.”
“Nick,” she moaned, and it sounded like a wanton plea.
He felt his control slipping away. He thrust inside her one final time, and she shuddered in his arms as his own release sent him soaring.
Sated, exhausted, Slade felt himself drifting off to sleep a few minutes later, holding Erin in his arms. He roused himself, knowing there was still much to do that night.
Erin nestled herself more firmly against him, and even in his half-asleep state, Slade couldn’t help but respond. He trailed a lazy kiss along her cheek, tugging at her lobe with his teeth. “Who did you just make love with, Erin?” he asked softly.
“You,” she murmured drowsily, and then added something that sounded like “my love.”
It was a long time before Slade could bear to let her go. Finally he slipped out of bed and dressed, then bent to brush his lips against hers. She clung to him, making him wish he could climb back into bed with her.
“I have to go out for a while,” he said. “You’ll be safe here.”
She was awake now, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Where are you going?”
“To find Roman Gerard,” he said, slipping on his dark glasses.
“But what if…what if he’s…”
“I know what I’m doing, Erin. Don’t worry about me. You just stay inside here. And don’t invite anyone in. Is that clear?”
Yes, she thought. It had always been clear. She just hadn’t wanted to admit what she had always known was true.
Vampires really did exist.
And Nick knew it, too.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Alucard Theater slumbered in deep shadow. The black brick facade blended eerily with the night, making it seem almost an illusion in the darkness. Slade tried the front door and found it locked, but when he tried the stage door off the alleyway, the knob turned in his hand and the door swung silently inward.
He slipped inside. The cavernous interior seemed to echo with the thunderous applause from a thousand performances. The curtain was pulled on the stage, shielding what lay beyond, but Slade paid it little attention
, anyway. His gaze scanned the auditorium, taking in the rows and rows of sagging seats.
A balcony hung suspended by what seemed no more than imagination over the back half of the theater, and as Slade gazed upward, something stirred in the shadows.
Slowly he climbed the steps to the balcony, remembering everything he’d learned about Roman Gerard in the past few days. An eccentric director who never left the theater. A recluse who never showed himself to anyone. A man who, from all accounts, had a pretty dark secret to hide.
A rat scurried across the floor of the balcony as Slade looked around. He went back down the stairs and searched in the darkness for a door that might lead to a basement or cellar or a room without windows. If Roman Gerard was a vampire, his coffin would be around here somewhere. Unless, of course, he’d had it moved.
Slade located a trapdoor on stage and lifted it to reveal a flight of stairs leading down into complete blackness. Cautiously he descended, playing the flashlight he’d brought with him on the dripping ceiling and walls. Dampness pervaded the air, a kind of seeping cold that put his senses on the alert. Something clung to the moisture, an odor so subtle anyone else would never have noticed it, but Slade recognized it immediately for what it was. Decay. The decline of untold ages. This was a very old passage.
There was no sign of a coffin, but as Slade made his way out of the theater, he experienced an almost overwhelming sense of dread, a premonition that stirred old memories to life and made him remember a past he wanted desperately to forget.
“Kiss me, Nick. Just one last kiss…”
The darkness was playing tricks on him, he thought as he left the theater. He knew the voice was coming from within his soul. He knew Simone’s plea would never be silenced easily. After all, it hadn’t diminished in eight long years. Why should it now?
The breeze outside picked up, and the shadows in the alley deepened. The voice he heard in the wind now was as ageless as the moonlight and as immortal as time itself.
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