Twilight Desires

by Amanda Ashley

  “I’ve never been here at night before,” Sofia remarked. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Drawing Sofia toward him, he stepped aside to allow a couple of joggers to pass. The faint scent of her perfume wafted to him on the breeze, along with the scent of her hair and skin. And her blood. Always the blood, he thought. Would there come a time when being with her didn’t spike his hunger? When he could take her in his arms with no thought other than to hold a beautiful young woman?

  She looked up, her gaze meeting his. Her hair shone blue black in the glow of a nearby light. Unable to resist, he slid his hands into the heavy mass. It fell through his fingers like ribbons of dark silk.

  In her apartment, in the park, it didn’t matter where they were. He wanted her.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Let’s go get a drink.”

  They stopped at the first nightclub they saw. Like most clubs, the interior of Roxy’s was dark and intimate. Dim lighting, soft, sensual music, booths with high backs that offered a degree of privacy.

  Another bad choice, Ethan thought as he slid into the booth beside her.

  “Sofia? Hey, chica, is that you?”

  A waiter with a wide smile stared down at Sofia. “Long time no see,” he said, winking at her.

  Sofia shrank back against Ethan, her face suddenly pale.

  “Mateo,” the waiter said. “Don’t you remember me? I’m a friend of Jack’s.”

  She nodded, her body trembling. She had seen him with her former boyfriend, Jack, a few times. He had even made a pass at her once or twice. He was a good-looking guy with black hair and dark eyes, but something about the way he had looked at her, as if he couldn’t wait to pounce on her, like a cat on a mouse, had always made her wary.

  “I haven’t seen Jack lately,” Mateo said. “Do you know if he left town?”

  Sofia pressed closer to Ethan. “I don’t know where he is.”

  “I haven’t seen Cash, either. It’s kinda strange, Jack and the boss both disappearing at the same time.” Eyes narrowing, Mateo looked at Ethan. “You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?”

  “Never met either one of them,” Ethan said, steel underlying his voice.

  Mateo grunted. “So, what’ll you two have?”

  Ethan ordered a glass of chardonnay, Sofia asked for a tequila sunrise.

  “Who the hell was that?” Ethan asked when Mateo went to turn in their order.

  “Just some guy I met once or twice. I used to date Jack, back in my goth period,” she said. “Jack was kind of dark and edgy, and I found that appealing. Turns out he belonged to a vampire named Cash. One night, Jack took me to Cash’s tavern . . .” She shuddered with the memory. “Anyway, if Micah hadn’t found me . . .”

  “You don’t have to say any more.” There was no doubt in Ethan’s mind that Sofia’s brother had killed Jack and destroyed Cash. “Too bad he didn’t kill Mateo, too.”

  “Why would he kill Mateo? He never did anything.”

  “The guy’s a vampire.” Ethan grinned inwardly. He didn’t miss the irony of wanting a vampire dead when he was one himself.

  Sofia’s eyes widened with shock. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  She shook her head. No wonder Mateo had inspired such fear in her. “I never would have guessed.”

  “That’s the idea,” Ethan said dryly. “Better for all concerned if we don’t advertise it.”

  Sofia stuck her tongue out at him. “Very funny.”

  Mateo winked at her when he returned with their drinks. “Maybe we can get together sometime, chica,” he suggested.

  “I don’t think so. I’m . . .”

  “The lady’s with me,” Ethan said. “I suggest you stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

  Mateo glared at Ethan, then turned on his heel and stalked away.

  “You’d better stay away from that guy,” Ethan said. “He’s no good.”

  “Gee, you think?”

  Chuckling, Ethan picked up his drink. And spat it out into his napkin.

  “What’s wrong?” Sofia asked.

  “I think our waiter added a little something extra to the wine.”

  “Like what?”

  “Ground oleander,” Ethan replied. Not that it could hurt him. But it was a warning.

  Sofia’s brows shot up. “Oleander! But . . . that’s poisonous.”

  “Yeah.” Ethan’s gaze swept the room, eyes narrowing when he saw Mateo standing near the bar, a smirk on his face. Ethan grunted softly. They would meet again, he thought. And when they did, only one of them would walk away.

  * * *

  Sofia sighed as they left the club two hours later. She hated to go home. It had been nice chatting with Ethan, being in his arms when they danced, laughing together as they shared stories of their childhood. The only downside had been Mateo. Time and again, she had caught him watching her every move, like a snake stalking a rabbit. Once, she had seen him glaring at Ethan, his eyes filled with such loathing it had made her shiver.

  It was still fresh in her mind as they walked back to the park to pick up her car. She wasn’t surprised when they turned a corner and found Mateo waiting there, legs slightly spread, arms folded over his chest. Somehow, she had known they would see him again. He was a little taller than Ethan, though not as broad through the chest and shoulders.

  Ethan came to an abrupt halt and stepped in front of Sofia. “You want to do this now?” he asked, glancing around. “Here?”

  Mateo jerked his head toward the alley beside him. “In there.”

  Ethan’s first thought was to tell Mateo to go to hell, then take Sofia home, but he quickly dismissed that idea. Whether he walked her back to her car or used his vampire powers to transport her home, it would be all too easy for the other vampire to follow. Better to get rid of the threat once and for all. “After you.”

  Mateo winked at Sofia. “This won’t take long, chica.”

  Locking his gaze on Mateo, Ethan spoke to Sofia’s mind. As soon as we’re out of sight, go home and lock the door. He didn’t wait for an answer. Still looking at Mateo, he said, “Let’s get this over with.”

  Smirking, Mateo led the way into the alley.

  Ethan followed, all his senses alert as he searched for some hint that Mateo had help hidden in the darkness, but he detected no one else lurking in the shadows.

  When Mateo reached the middle of the alley, he whirled around, a faint shaft of moonlight glinting on the ten-inch blade in his hand.

  Ethan snorted. “I didn’t think you’d fight fair.”

  Mateo shrugged and lunged forward, the knife slicing toward Ethan’s throat.

  Ethan ducked it easily enough, feinted to the right, and drove his fist into the other man’s face.

  Dark red blood spurted from Mateo’s nose. He let out an angry roar and charged again. And again.

  Ethan avoided the blows. It soon became obvious Mateo wasn’t the street fighter he thought he was, and just as obvious his preternatural powers weren’t as strong as Ethan’s and never would be, due to the fact that Ethan had been turned by one of the oldest vampires in existence. He dodged every blow easily, his own fists finding their mark every time.

  Whether he was a coward or just smart, Mateo knew when he’d had enough. With a cry of frustration, he made one last swipe with the knife and vanished from the alley.

  “Shit,” Ethan muttered. “I doubt if I’ve seen the last of him.”

  After wiping his bloody hands on his jeans, he willed himself to Sofia’s apartment.

  * * *

  Sofia paced the living room. Had she done the right thing in leaving Ethan? What could she have done if she had stayed? Calling the police had been her first instinct, but she had immediately squelched it, certain Ethan would not want the cops involved.

  Her mind filled with images of the two vampires ripping each other to shreds. She knew vampires grew stronger with age, and Ethan was still
a fledgling. She comforted herself with the knowledge that Saintcrow had sired him. Hopefully, being turned by a vampire who had lived during the Crusades would make him Mateo’s equal, if not stronger.

  She ran to the door when the bell rang, then hesitated. “Ethan?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  She flung open the door, her gaze quickly moving over him. His clothes were spattered with blood, but he seemed unhurt. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” He followed her into the living room. “Mind if I wash up?”

  She shook her head, relieved he hadn’t been hurt. Or killed.

  “Hey, I’m fine,” he said again.

  “I know, but I was so worried.”

  She followed him to the bathroom, stood in the doorway while he washed the dried blood from his face and hands, then ran a comb through his hair.

  He grimaced at the crimson stains on his shirt, then took it off and tossed it in the wastebasket beside the sink.

  Sofia stared at him, hands clenched to keep from running her fingers over his chest and down his arms. She didn’t know if vampires worked out, but he must have done so at some point in his life, because he was buff to the max.

  Ethan grinned when he looked in the mirror again and caught Sofia staring at him.

  Cheeks flushing, she turned away. “Can I get you any . . . ?” She bit off the last word, remembering she couldn’t offer him cake or cookies or a cup of coffee. Only a glass of wine. The words or your blood whispered through the back of her mind.

  Her skin tingled when he came up behind her. She could feel him standing there, close, so close, but he didn’t touch her.

  “I should go,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for the way things turned out tonight.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  He swore under his breath, thinking how foolish he had been to think he could have a normal relationship with Sofia, or with any woman, when so many things were against it, not the least of which was his infernal hunger. It was always there, sometimes resting beneath the surface, making him think he had it under control, sometimes clawing relentlessly at his vitals until he thought he might go mad with need . . . the way it was now, no doubt stirred to life by his fight with Mateo.

  Sofia’s scent filled Ethan’s nostrils. The rhythmic beat of her heart, fast now that he was so near, was like sweet music to his ears. Her blood called to him, a constant temptation with its promise of relief from the craving that colored his every thought.

  “Ethan?” She still had her back toward him.

  And suddenly he couldn’t face her. Silent as the clouds drifting across the sky, he transformed into mist and left her standing there.

  She knew he was gone even before she turned around. Disappointment swept through her, followed by a quick rush of irritation. Why did he always run away? Sure, she had been scared earlier, but she wasn’t some hothouse flower that would wilt at the first sign of trouble. And yes, she had been afraid when Mateo confronted them, but running away hadn’t even entered her mind. She had known about vampires before she met Ethan, and what she hadn’t known, she had learned from Micah. Day or night, she never left her apartment without a good stout stake tucked into her handbag and Micah’s number on speed dial. A girl couldn’t go through life being constantly afraid of what might happen, but a smart girl was always prepared.

  Chapter Eight

  Ethan materialized on the bridge leading to Morgan Creek. A deserted ghost town was just where he belonged, he thought as he strolled down the main street. There were no temptations in this dismal place, just the spirits of the men and women who had died here, if what Saintcrow had said was true.

  Ethan had never believed in ghosts, but then, he had never really believed in vampires either, which made him wonder what other supernatural creatures might actually exist. Werewolves? Trolls? Zombies? Bigfoot? The Loch Ness monster? Hell, maybe they were all real.

  He paused as a cold chill caressed his cheek. Odd, when there was no hint of a breeze. And then he chuckled. One of Morgan Creek’s ghosts, maybe. Kadie was sure they lingered in the shadows of the town.

  He passed a few businesses, all long empty, swore softly as he felt the same chilly sensation, stronger now, as the words She’s in danger whispered in the back of his mind.

  It wasn’t his imagination, not this time. He focused all his thoughts on Sofia and knew the ghost or whatever had tried to contact him was right. She was in danger.

  With a muttered curse, he willed himself to her apartment.

  The door stood open.

  “Sofie!” he called, his voice edged with panic when he saw that someone had jimmied the lock. He didn’t have to go inside to know she was gone.

  Mateo! An indrawn breath carried his stink. Ethan swore again. How had the vampire gotten inside? Surely Sofia wouldn’t have invited him in.

  It was easy enough to follow the vampire’s scent. It led out of town, twisted through a maze of new construction, and ended in a tavern that had obviously been out of business for several years.

  Ethan slowed as he drew closer, his senses sweeping the area. Sofia was here, along with Mateo and another human whose scent he didn’t recognize. Undoubtedly the stranger was the one who had burst into Sofia’s apartment and dragged her outside.

  Something he would live to regret, Ethan vowed.

  He stood in the shadows, unmoving, as he determined Sofia’s location. She was in a dark room. A basement, maybe, or a storage area. Mateo and his companion were in the tavern’s main room.

  Ethan frowned as he detected the heartbeat of a second female and then, a moment later, the unmistakable copper-tinged aroma of freshly spilled blood. He clenched his hands into tight fists. Was Mateo easing his hunger? Or was he baiting the trap?

  Ethan licked his lips as the scent of blood grew stronger, the woman’s heartbeat weaker. She was dying.

  “Shit!” Gathering his power, Ethan propelled himself toward the tavern. He kicked the door open, broke the neck of Mateo’s companion, grabbed the other vampire by the arm, and hurled him across the room.

  Mateo crashed into the wall but quickly recovered. He smiled, fangs gleaming in the semidarkness. “Took you long enough,” he said with a sneer.

  Ethan wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Driven by his hunger and his fear for Sofia, he lunged forward, his hands curling around the other vampire’s throat, driving him back against the wall.

  Mateo struggled, his nails gouging Ethan’s face and throat in a frantic effort to free himself.

  “No way,” Ethan snarled. Ripping the vampire’s heart from his chest, he threw it across the room. It hit the far wall with a juicy splat.

  The woman moaned softly as she struggled for breath. Ethan turned toward her. The scent of her blood, hot and fresh, drew him across the floor to her side. As though he had no will of his own, he dropped to his knees, his whole being focused on the steady stream of crimson leaking from the gash in her throat.

  She was so near death, what would it matter if he drained her of what little life remained?

  As from far away, he heard footsteps. A harsh gasp of shock. Someone calling his name.

  “Ethan? Ethan!”

  Sofia. It took him a moment to remember why he was there.

  “Ethan?”

  Guilt at what he had almost done rose up in him, and with it a deep sense of shame. “Are you all right?” His voice was harsh. He didn’t look at her.

  “Y . . . yes.”

  As she drew closer, he barked, “Stay where you are!” Dammit! How long had she been standing there? How much had she seen?

  He took several deep breaths, then bit into his wrist. Forcing the woman’s mouth open, he let his blood drip onto her tongue.

  Sofia gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving her life, if she’s not too far gone.”

  Sofia glanced around the room. Mateo lay in a heap on the floor, a gaping hole in his chest. The horrid man who had dragged her out of her ap
artment lay a few feet away, his head at an unnatural angle. And then there was Ethan, kneeling on the floor, his eyes almost as red as the blood dribbling into the woman’s mouth. The stink of urine and death hung heavy in the musty air.

  It was like some grisly scene from a slasher movie.

  Stomach roiling, she ran behind the bar and retched in the sink.

  When her stomach quieted, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then stood there, listening. The woman had stopped moaning. Was she dead? Where was Ethan? Taking a deep breath, Sofia risked a glance over her shoulder.

  The woman was still on the floor. Ethan sat beside her, head bowed, hands clenched at his sides.

  “Ethan?”

  “Give me a minute and I’ll take you home.”

  “Is she going to be a vampire now?”

  “No. She’s just asleep. She’ll be all right when she wakes up.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Try me.”

  “I went back to Morgan Creek. One of the ghosts warned me that you were in danger.”

  “A ghost told you?”

  He nodded. “I went to your apartment. You were gone. I followed Mateo’s scent here.” He shrugged, as if there was nothing more to say.

  Suddenly cold, Sofia folded her arms over her chest. She could have been killed tonight. “Ethan.”

  He took a deep, calming breath, then stood. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  “What about the woman?”

  “I’ll come back for her.”

  She tried not to notice the blood splattered over his face and clothing, tried not to flinch when he wrapped his arms around her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

  Traveling vampire-style was a little unsettling, like hurtling through time and space on a roller coaster. It left her feeling a little dizzy.

  When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the middle of her living room, alone.

  * * *

  Keeping his mind carefully blank, Ethan returned to the tavern for the woman. Her eyelids fluttered open when he lifted her into his arms.