Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02]

by Night's Touch

  “They were probably afraid you’d tell someone when you were younger,” Vince suggested. “It might have been a hard secret to keep.”

  “I guess so.” She tried to imagine how she would have reacted if she had found out when she was eight or nine or fifteen. Would she even have believed it? As for keeping such a thing a secret, until she went to school, she’d had no one to tell.

  “They’ve been good to you, Cara. They raised you the best they could. It’s obvious that they love you. I think you’re being too hard on them.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe.”

  “They’re the only parents you’ve got,” Vince said quietly. “You might want to remember that.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. He was right, she thought. Vampires or not, they were the only family she had.

  Chapter 17

  Serafina stood by the table in Anthony’s lab. She felt like shouting and wished Anton was there to share in her victory.

  Bringing the dead back to life had sounded easy when she read the incantation in the book, but she had expected the actual execution of the spell to be far more complicated than it appeared on paper. With that in mind, she had found a spell for bringing animals back to life. She had practiced on a cat, a dog, a monkey, a sheep, a goat, and, lastly, a small ape she had stolen from a kid’s petting zoo.

  Restoring life to the dead had given her the most amazing sense of omnipotence, and reaffirmed her own powers, as well.

  She could do this. She could bring her beloved back to life.

  Anton walked through the house, wondering where his mother had gone. She had been away from home and the bookstore more and more of late. When he asked where she was spending her time, she just smiled and said she would tell him when the time was right. He wondered if she was having an affair. He wondered what she would say when he told her that he’d struck out with Cara. Not that he cared. True, her rejection had stung his pride, but that was all. He’d never wanted to date her in the first place. She was too blond and far too innocent for his taste. He preferred women with dark hair and dusky skin, women who knew the score and were willing to play the game according to his rules. As for his mother’s plans for revenge, well, he’d worry about that when the time came.

  After grabbing a beer from the fridge, he went down to the basement. Lately, he had become more and more fascinated with his father’s journals and diaries. His father had made a note of the date he had met Brenna Flanagan, and of the subsequent times he had met her either at Myra’s bookshop or at The Nocturne. The name Roshan DeLongpre was also mentioned, as was a young vampire named Jimmy Dugan. His father had used Dugan’s blood in some of his experiments. All experiments with Dugan’s blood had failed.

  His father had taken copious notes on his research. He had listed the people he had tested, among them a young man named Roger West. Anton studied the various compounds and ingredients his father had used, and the reaction of each subject to each new injection. His father had noted that Roger West had rejected the vampire’s blood and that he had died a violent death, his body slowly shriveling up until, at the end, he had looked like a human dried apple.

  Anton read the entries with cool detachment. His father’s anger and frustration as each new attempt failed came through loud and clear. Anton didn’t make any judgments about whether what his father had been doing was right or wrong; instead, he studied his father’s notes and tried to figure out where his father’s formula had gone wrong.

  An elixir with the power to grant eternal life. Anton smiled, thinking of the possibilities, the fame and fortune that would come to a man who could provide mankind with such a wondrous gift.

  Chapter 18

  The vampire stood on the sidewalk in front of the house with the white picket fence. She didn’t have to be inside to know what was happening. Her preternatural senses were so keen, she could almost picture the couple inside. The woman was mortal, young, and in love. The man was the vampire’s own fledgling. She had brought him across exactly a year ago. In all her long existence, she had only bestowed the Dark Gift on five other men. She had made them, used them, and forgotten them.

  But this last one, Vince, there was something about him, something that kept him alive in her memory, and so she had decided to come and see how he was getting along in his new life.

  Her mind connected with his. Come to me. It was not a request, but a command, one he could not ignore.

  Smiling, she faded into the shadows and waited.

  Come to me.

  Vince frowned as a familiar voice whispered through the corridors of his mind. It was a voice he would never forget, one he was compelled to obey.

  Cara frowned when he eased out of her embrace and rose from the sofa. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Why? It’s early.”

  “It’s after midnight.” He tried to fight the compulsion to leave, but it was useless. Leaning down, he kissed her. “I’ve got a customer bringing a car in early in the morning. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

  She looked up at him, her expression worried. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, darlin’.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.” He kissed her again. “Good night.”

  It was all he could do to keep from running out of the house toward the vampire who waited for him—the vampire who had changed his life forever.

  Once outside, he stood on the sidewalk and then, as if guided by an invisible hand, he walked down the street until he came to a small park.

  The vampire was waiting for him on a park bench. She smiled as he approached.

  “Vincent. How well you look.”

  “What do you want?” She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin was like smooth porcelain; her hair was thick and black and fell to her hips in rippling waves. Her eyes were an amazing shade of green. Clad in a pair of skin-tight black pants and a wine-red sweater that outlined every curve, she looked sexy as hell.

  “Is that any way to speak to me?” She spoke like a queen questioning a commoner and as she did so, he felt her power roll over him, sizzling through his veins like an electric shock. The hair prickled along his arms.

  “I’m sorry.” His tone was curt.

  “Come, sit beside me.”

  He hesitated only a moment, certain that any refusal would only cause him more pain.

  “So tell me,” she said, “how are you getting on?”

  “What do you care? You made me and dumped me.”

  “Mind your tongue!”

  He bit back the sharp retort that rose in his mind.

  She dragged her fingernails down his arm, leaving tiny furrows of blood behind. Her touch made him shiver. “I’ve thought of you often this past year.”

  “I’ve thought of you, too,” he muttered darkly.

  “I’m sure you have.”

  Her gaze bored into him. He had the distinct impression that she could see into his very soul, that she knew everything he had said and done in the past year, every thought that had crossed his mind, then and now.

  Her fingers kneaded his biceps. “Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

  “Your name, for a start.”

  She laughed softly. “You may call me Mara.”

  “I thought vampires had to sleep during the day. Why doesn’t the sun render me powerless?”

  “My blood is very old and very powerful,” she explained. “The sun no longer has any effect on me, and since my blood now runs in your veins, you are able to be active during the day. In a year or two, the sun will have no power over you at all.”

  Vince felt a rush of excitement. If what she said was true, someday in the near future he would be able to return to his family and resume his old lifestyle. “What is it about thresholds? What power do they hold?”

  She shrugged. “They have a built-in power all their own. Every home that has not been defiled is protected by
that innate magic.”

  “Defiled how?”

  “Homes where there has been foul play, murder, incest, or any kind of depravity. Such acts destroy the threshold, rendering it powerless.”

  Vince nodded. It made sense in an otherworldly sort of way. “How long have you been a vampire?”

  “I was made when Cleopatra ruled Egypt.” Seeing his frown, she added, “Sometime in 51 BC.”

  Vince swore in astonishment. These days, most people lived to be seventy-five or eighty. A few lived to be over a hundred. But to live for thousands of years…he shook his head. It was incredible. “Is the vampire who made you still living?”

  “No.”

  “Am I the only vampire you’ve made?”

  “No. There were five before you.”

  “Are they still alive?”

  She made a vague gesture with her hand. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

  “Then what are you doing here? I mean, if you didn’t give a damn about them…”

  She laughed softly. “Why do I care about you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I came.” She frowned thoughtfully. “The woman inside. Cara. What is she to you?”

  “How do you know her name?”

  “I read it in her mind. She’s in love with you. Are you in love with her?”

  “Why ask? Can’t you just read my thoughts?”

  “If I wish, but conversation is more stimulating.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I love her. Have you ever been in love?”

  “Many times,” she replied, her expression wistful. “But it never lasts. Mortals are such fragile creatures, and they live such a short time.”

  “The ones you made, were you in love with them?”

  “No.”

  “Why did you bring them across?”

  She shrugged. “It’s been so long, I don’t recall. Curiosity, I suppose. Or maybe boredom.”

  “Is that why you brought me across?” he asked bitterly. “Because you were bored?”

  She laughed again, the sound soft and musical, like the chiming of silver bells on a summer day. “I’m afraid so.”

  Vince muttered an oath.

  “You’re not happy with your new state of being?”

  Vince frowned into the distance. Was he happy as a vampire? There were things about his new lifestyle that he liked, but until she had told him he would soon be able to go out in the sun, he would have said that, all things considered, he would rather be mortal.

  Out of curiosity, he asked, “Can you undo what you’ve done?”

  “No. Only death can free you.” She studied him dispassionately for a moment. “Would you like me to release you?”

  “You’d destroy me?” he exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “Just like that?”

  “If you wish.”

  “Damn, woman, you’re one heartless…” He let the thought die, unfinished, at the warning look in her eyes.

  “I don’t want you to be unhappy,” she said. “I’m not sure why. Come, spend the night with me.”

  “Is that a command?”

  “Are you refusing me?” She looked suddenly like a child whose stocking was empty on Christmas morning.

  “I’m sorry, but…”

  “Your little mortal wouldn’t like it.” She finished his thought for him as she caressed his cheek. “Perhaps it was that streak of honor that first attracted me to you. Ah, well, I’ll see you again,” she said, and vanished from his sight.

  Vince shook his head. If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was another woman in his life.

  Mara watched her fledgling get into his sleek black car and drive away. Sometimes she longed for the old days. Life had been simpler then, slower. There had been a charm and beauty to life in the long ago time that was missing today. She had seen so many changes in the eons since she had been made. Occasionally, when the rush and noise of the world grew too great, she sought shelter in the arms of the earth. There, lost in the quiet darkness, she sometimes slept for hundreds of years. Each time, she emerged regenerated, only to find a new world awaiting her.

  So many changes. Kingdoms rose and fell. New discoveries were made in the earth and in the heavens. There were always wars in distant lands. Cures were found for old diseases while new ailments were constantly being discovered. Earthquakes, tidal waves, tornadoes, and floods reminded humanity of how frail and precarious their existence was. Airplanes flew higher, cars went faster. Mankind was constantly inventing new and better ways to destroy itself. Sometimes she wondered how mortals slept at night when their lives were in constant peril.

  She shook her head. The only constant was change.

  Her fledgling had changed, as well. Until Vince, she had not made a new vampire in over a thousand years. She was surprised at how powerful he had become in such a short time. Did he have any idea of just how invincible he was?

  She thought of the young female inside the house and experienced a rush of unexpected jealousy. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of destroying the female. It would be all too easy. She could do it from here with no more than a thought, but to what end? Mortals lived such a short time, there was little satisfaction in depriving them of the few years they had.

  Perhaps hunting for prey would dispel her melancholia. It had been years since she had needed to feed, but she was suddenly overcome with the urge to hunt, to hold a mortal in thrall, to feel the rapid beating of a fearful heart, to savor the warm sweet taste of life’s elixir.

  Leaving that part of the city, she sought a place to hunt. Though she had no fear of recriminations, old habits died hard. It had ever been her wont to find her prey among the poor and downtrodden. Should she decide to drain her victims dry, there would be no one to mourn their passing, no one to comment on their absence.

  She had just turned down a seedy looking street when she realized there was another vampire nearby.

  Curious, she sought him out. He was young in the life, compared to her; but then, compared to her, they were all little more than fledglings.

  He came to an abrupt halt when he saw her, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her for what she was.

  Mara plucked his name from his mind. “Roshan DeLongpre,” she murmured. “I bid you good evening.”

  He bowed from the waist. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, madam.”

  His voice was deep and rich, his manner respectful yet wary. She liked him immediately. “I am Mara.”

  Though he tried to hide it, his surprise was evident in the widening of his eyes and the sharp intake of his breath. “Like all of our kind, I have heard of you.”

  “Oh?” She took a step closer, noting his finely chiseled features, the strength of his jaw, the spread of his shoulders. “And what have you heard?”

  “That you are truly immortal, and that the sun no longer holds any power over you.” His gaze moved over her in frank admiration. “And that you are the most beautiful of women.”

  She smiled, pleased by the compliment and his obvious sincerity. “I take it you are the master of the city.” She had known it wasn’t Vincent. He was too young in the life and too new to the area.

  “I am.”

  “I am surprised you allow another into your domain.”

  “You speak of Cordova?”

  She nodded.

  “He is my daughter’s friend.”

  Ah, she thought, the woman in the house. Cara. “How is it that you have a child?”

  “We adopted her when she was an infant.”

  Mara digested that for a moment. “What was it like, raising a human child?”

  “It was…” He searched for the right word. “Interesting.”

  She smiled, thinking that interesting was probably an understatement. “How did she feel, having vampires for parents?”

  “Until recently, she didn’t know. She was understandably upset when she found out.”

  “Yet she is in love with a vampire.”
<
br />   “She doesn’t believe he’s one of us.”

  “It should be…interesting…when she finds out the truth,” Mara remarked with a faint smile. “Come, hunt with me.”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  “And mine,” she said, linking her arm with his. “I have not hunted with a companion in many years.” She threw back her head and took a deep breath. “Do you smell it?” she asked, and he heard the underlying note of excitement in her voice, saw it in the predatory gleam in her extraordinary green eyes.

  Roshan nodded. The scent of prey was in the air.

  Mara was a skilled and ruthless hunter, but then, that was to be expected, Roshan thought with a wry grin, seeing as how she’d had thousands of years to perfect her skill.

  She called her desired prey to her with a look, and because she was in the mood to hunt, she took only a taste from each of her chosen victims before offering them to Roshan.

  There was nothing like it, he thought, the thrill of the hunt, the surge of power as you held your prey in your grasp, the thick, rich taste of their life’s blood sliding over your tongue, the way it filled you with warmth and strength, the exhilarating sense of being invincible. In the last few years, he had hunted only when necessary and taken only what he needed to survive. But tonight, tonight they drank from dozens until even his prodigious thirst was quenched.

  And then, to his surprise, Mara drew him into her arms. “Shh,” she whispered, “don’t be afraid. I want only a taste.”

  He would have refused, but he found himself powerless to resist. He stared into her eyes, eyes as deep and green as the Nile, sighed as her fangs pierced the skin of his neck just below his left ear. It had been a long time since anyone had drunk from him. He had forgotten what it was like, the heat of it, the sensual pleasure that bordered on ecstasy. And yet, even as he reveled in it, he felt the sharp prick of his conscience, certain that Brenna would not approve.

  Mara licked the wound in his neck, then swept her hair aside, offering Roshan her throat. A thrill of anticipation ran down his spine. To drink from Mara was akin to drinking from the wellspring of eternal life.