He parked the car and followed her inside.
“What kind do you like?” Cassie asked as they took their place in line.
“I’m allergic to dairy.”
“Really? Why didn’t you say something? We could have gone somewhere else.”
“My lady wants ice cream,” he said gallantly. “My lady gets ice cream.” Though he wondered how one decided which flavor to choose. Neapolitan. Pistachio. Chocolate Fudge Ripple. Moose Tracks. Cherry Garcia. Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. They all sounded quite exotic.
Cassie grinned at him, thinking again that she’d never before met a man like him. “Maybe we could go get a nightcap later.”
“Anything you want.”
At the moment, she wanted a hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream and three cherries. They found a table for two near the window. Giovanni couldn’t help smiling at the look of enjoyment that spread over her face as she licked a bit of chocolate from her lips. He couldn’t help wondering if he would ever be able to arouse a similar look of pleasure.
“Would you still like to go out for a drink?” he asked as they left the ice cream shop.
“Sure.”
Giovanni had been worried that she would quickly tire of his company. After all, he wasn’t known for his wit. He wasn’t much of a storyteller. But she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go home.
He drove to a small, out-of-the-way nightclub he sometimes frequented when prey was scarce. The bartender, Rick, was a vampire who kept a ready supply of red wine liberally laced with blood for a few of his customers.
“Nice place,” Cassie said as they stepped inside. “I’ve never been here.”
“I like it. It’s never too crowded.”
He was right about that, she thought, glancing around. The lights were low, the music soft and slow with a mysterious, dark undercurrent. The décor was reminiscent of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Lots of colorful masks and beads.
At the bar, Cassie ordered a mimosa. Johnny asked for a glass of the house special.
“I’m so glad you asked me out,” Cassie said as they made their way to a booth. “I don’t remember when I’ve had such a good time.”
“Me, either.”
“So, you said you’re retired. What do you do with your time these days?”
He should have expected a question like that, he guessed, but he was totally unprepared with a reply. “I’ve been looking for something to do,” he lied. “But there’s not a lot of call for retired priests.”
“No, I guess not.”
“What about you?” Johnny asked. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you work in that dreadful place?”
“I don’t have much education and I didn’t have any experience when I took the job. I thought maybe, after a few months, I could find something better. But”—she shrugged—“nothing better ever came along. And with tips, the pay’s not too bad.”
“I guess we do what we have to do to survive,” he said quietly.
“Exactly.” Cassie sipped her drink. He was hiding something, she thought, though she had no idea what it might be. He didn’t seem like the criminal type, nor could she imagine him doing anything cruel or illegal. But his voice had been laced with regret.
Johnny glanced at the band. “Would you like to dance?”
“Sure.”
Leading her onto the small dance floor, he took her in his arms.
Cassie had always been self-conscious about dancing. She didn’t feel that she was very good at it and it made her uncomfortable, which tended to make her somewhat clumsy. But it was different with Johnny. She felt at ease in his arms. He moved so effortlessly that somehow his confidence spread to her. When she closed her eyes, it felt as if they were floating above the floor.
Giovanni held her as close as he dared. She fit in his embrace as if she were part of him. Her nearness, her warmth, filled him with desire and he wished he dared carry her home and make love to her all night long.
The very idea brought him up short. A pimply-faced teenage boy had more experience than he did. No doubt Cassie would laugh at his clumsy attempts to seduce her. The thought cooled his ardor and when the music stopped, he led her back to their table. “It’s late,” he said abruptly. “I should probably take you home.”
Cassie stared at him. Had she offended him somehow? She’d been having such a good time; she’d thought he was, too. She wanted to ask him what was wrong. Instead, she said, “Yes, it is late.”
When they reached her apartment, she bade him a quick good night, opened the car door, and ran up the stairs.
Giovanni stared after her, wondering why she was so upset.
Chapter 8
Cassie tossed and turned all night long as she replayed her evening with Johnny. Had she been too forward? Asked too many questions? Said something to make him mad? Try as she might, she couldn’t solve the riddle. She had been hoping for another dance or two. And maybe a goodnight kiss.
Like a dog with a bone, she worried it all the next day but came no closer to finding an answer. He’d seemed to be having a good time. Had she been mistaken?
For once, she looked forward to going to work, hoping that being busy would keep her from fretting about the night before. Serving drinks and talking to customers helped, but every time the door opened, she looked up, hoping to see Johnny striding toward her.
But he didn’t show up that night, or the next.
And then, just when she’d given up hope, he appeared at one of her tables. She couldn’t smother the excitement she felt when she saw him, or her heart’s leap of joy at seeing him again. It was all she could do not to run toward him and ask what she’d done wrong.
She forced herself to finish serving the people at another table before approaching him. “Hi,” she said. “What can I get for you this evening?”
“Your forgiveness,” he said contritely. “Can I walk you home? I feel I need to apologize for the other night.”
“You don’t have to . . .”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”
“If you insist. Would you like a drink?”
“Not tonight. I have something to do. I’ll see you when you get off. We need to talk.”
Nodding, she watched him thread his way through the tables to the door. We need to talk. Everyone knew what meant.
He was going to tell her good-bye.
* * *
Giovanni willed himself to the next town. Ever since meeting Cassie, his hunger had grown stronger. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because he so badly wanted to taste her sweetness. All he knew was that he had to feed each night before he saw her for fear that he might lose his hard-won self-control.
He stalked the dark streets, his presence shielded from those around him as he searched for prey.
It had taken him a long time to accept what he was. Being a vampire, preying on humankind, went against everything he believed. And yet, it was necessary for his survival. He could feed on animal blood. He could exist on blood stolen from blood banks. Both would sustain him, but they didn’t strengthen him, nor did they ease his hunger for long. Neither was particularly satisfying. It was like drinking water when you wanted wine or eating salad when you craved meat.
Entering a dive in a seedy part of the city, he found a middle-aged woman sitting alone at the bar. He slid onto the stool beside her. Bought her a drink. He eased his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer, and then spoke to her mind, his will overshadowing hers. And then, as if he was nuzzling her neck, he bit her. It took only moments to feed.
When he lifted his head, he released her from his thrall, bade her good night, and left the bar with no one suspecting what he had done.
* * *
When Cassie stepped outside after work, she found Johnny waiting for her. She smiled tentatively, not sure what to say.
“Would you like to take a walk?” he asked.
“Sure, if you want.”
“You don’t sound too certain.”
; “Well.” She glanced up and down the deserted street. “It is kind of late, don’t you think?”
Giovanni nodded, but he couldn’t help wondering if she was suddenly afraid of him. Some mortals sensed the otherworldliness about him, the danger that lurked beneath the surface, without knowing what it was that troubled them. “Would you rather go out for a drink?” Most of the bars were closed, but Rick’s Place stayed open until dawn.
“Why don’t we go to my place?” She didn’t really want him to see where she lived, but it was too cold for a walk, although the chill in the air didn’t seem to bother him a bit.
“Are you sure?”
She blew out a sigh. “Not really, but let’s go.”
Wishing he dared take her hand, he strolled down the street at her side, keenly aware of her presence, of his desire for her.
Ten minutes later, Cassie invited him into her apartment. She was immediately sorry. Seeing it through his eyes made her realize just how ugly and dilapidated it really was. The couch sagged in the middle. The overstuffed chair was faded, the rug practically threadbare. “Can I get you a drink? The place won’t look so bad after you’ve had a couple.”
“I’ve seen worse,” he said, with a crooked grin. “Hell, I’ve lived in worse.”
“So, would you like a drink?”
“Some red wine, if you’ve got it.”
“I do, although I’m not sure how good it is. A friend of mine gave me a bottle of Merlot for Christmas, but I’m not much of a wine drinker. Please, sit down. I’ll be right back.”
Giovanni looked at the sofa and the chair, uncertain which to take. In the end, he settled in the chair, guessing she might feel better with some space between them. He glanced around the room, thinking she deserved something much better. Did she know a man had been murdered here? The scent of old, violent death lingered in the air.
He stood when she entered the room.
Cassie smiled, thinking none of the other men she had ever dated had shown her such respect.
She handed him a glass, then settled on the sofa and took a sip of the soda she had poured for herself. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“I have a confession to make.”
“You’re a priest,” she said, grinning. “And you want to confess to me?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He took several sips of wine, then set the glass on the low table beside the chair. “This isn’t easy for me to say, but you need to know. I don’t have any experience with women. Or with dating. I’ve only been on one date in my whole life and that only recently. I’ve never been intimate with a woman and . . .”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re a . . . a virgin? Seriously? This isn’t just some kind of come-on to make me feel sorry for you and take you to bed, is it?”
“No!” He stared at her, aghast. “How could you even think such a thing?”
“I’m sorry.” She set her glass aside. “I should have known better. You’re not a jerk like most of the guys I’ve dated.”
“I left the other night because I wanted to hold you, kiss you, and I was ashamed because I didn’t know how to . . .” He huffed a sigh. “I’m an idiot.”
Cassie laughed softly. “No, you’re not. But . . . are you saying that even after you left the Church, you never . . . weren’t you even curious?”
“You have no idea! You probably won’t believe this, but until I met you, I never really felt . . . felt . . .”
“What?”
“Physical desire.”
Speechless, Cassie stared at him. And then she smiled. “I think I’m flattered.” She patted the cushion beside her. “Come here, Johnny.”
He blinked at her. Slowly gained his feet. And then sat beside her, but not too close.
“You didn’t have any trouble kissing me the other night,” she murmured. And then she frowned. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”
“I knew a girl once. A long time ago.”
“Oh?”
“Maria Elena. We were both very young. She was betrothed to someone she did not love, and she came to confession.. . .”
“You were a priest then?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Did you do it in the confessional?”
“Good Lord, no! We were never intimate!” he exclaimed. “We never exchanged more than a few chaste kisses. And then she got married and . . .”
“You loved her?”
“Yes. But it was never meant to be.”
“I’m sorry. But I’m so glad you’re here now, with me.”
“Cassie.”
Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she kissed him.
At the touch of her lips on his, Giovanni’s arms went around her. Holding her close, he kissed her as if he was suffocating and she was his next breath. Cassie clung to him, and for a time, nothing else mattered but the taste of her, the funny little sighs she made, the way she moaned his name. He was drowning, he thought, overwhelmed by feelings and emotions he had never felt before, not even with Maria Elena. It was exhilarating and a little frightening because, as his desire heightened, so did the urge to bury his fangs in her sweet flesh. The musky scent of her skin was almost his undoing.
Alarmed when the need became almost overpowering, he took a deep breath and pulled away. Afraid his eyes had gone red, he stood and turned his back toward her.
“Johnny?” she asked breathlessly. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Fine. I just think we’d better slow down.”
“You’re probably right.” She smoothed a hand over her hair, straightened her short uniform skirt. “Are we good?”
Turning, he winked at her. “Better than good.” Reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet and kissed her gently. “I think I’d better go before this gets out of hand.”
“Johnny . . .”
He covered her mouth with his fingertips. “We need to go slow,” he said. “There are things about me you don’t know. Things I can’t tell you now.”
“What things?”
“I’d rather not say at the moment.”
“You’re not wanted by the police, are you?”
“No. Nothing like that,” he assured her. “I’m not a fugitive. I don’t have a price on my head. I’m not running away from anything. Okay?”
“All right. But you know it’s going to drive me crazy trying to figure out what it is, don’t you?”
“When the time is right, I’ll tell you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. Will I see you tomorrow night?”
“If you want to.”
“You know I do.” He kissed her again, lightly, then took his leave.
Cassie stared after him. Damn.
She hated secrets.
Chapter 9
Giovanni swore under his breath when he opened his eyes and saw Mara standing beside him. “What are you doing here?”
“I think the better question is what are you doing here?” She glanced around his lair with distaste. “A cellar in an abandoned church? Is this the best you could find?”
Sitting up, he raked his fingers through his hair. “What do you want?”
With all the grace of a ballerina, she lowered herself to the cement floor beside him. “I was talking to Angelica last night. She asked me about you and about how we met, and, in passing, she mentioned the name of your sire—Alric.”
Giovanni frowned. “So?”
“What do you know about him?”
“Nothing. He turned me and abandoned me. I haven’t seen him since.”
“No contact at all?” she asked, surprise evident in her voice.
He shook his head. “I never even knew his name until Angelica told me. Why?”
“He’s here.”
“Here? Where?”
“I don’t know his exact location. Only that he’s in the States, somewhere on the West Coast.”
“Do you think he’s looking for me?”
“No,” she said fl
atly. “He’s most likely looking for me.”
“You? Why?”
“There’s some history between us.”
“Really? You’ve never mentioned him.”
She made a vague gesture. “It was a long time ago.”
“I’m getting the feeling it won’t be a cordial reunion.”
“Hardly.”
“So, what’s between you?”
“A little over two hundred years ago, I destroyed someone he loved.”
Giovanni grunted softly. He knew something of Mara’s early life. She had been born in Egypt and raised as a slave in the house of Chuma, one of Pharaoh’s advisers. She had been fifteen when Chuma gave her to one of his allies as a gift. Her new master had soon tired of her endless attempts to escape and kept her in chains in a dungeon. She had spent years there until, one night, a vampire known as Dendar appeared in her cell and turned her. She had killed the man who kept her in chains, and she had destroyed the vampire who had sired her.
She had mellowed in the centuries since then, he thought. But he knew she was still capable of dealing death and destruction without a qualm. “I assume you had a good reason.”
“Calidora betrayed me to a hunter. She betrayed Alric, too, but he was so smitten with her, he refused to believe it. I killed the hunter. And I killed her. Alric never forgave me. He swore someday he would avenge her.” Mara shook her head. “It happened a long time ago, but he never came looking for me, and after a while I thought he must have gone to ground, but certainly not for so long, which made me think someone had destroyed him.”
Giovanni shook his head He knew old vampires sometimes went to ground when they grew tired or bored with their existence. But he had never heard of any of his kind who rested in the earth for more than a century.
Mara shrugged. “Time has little meaning to our kind, as you well know. But enough about me. How is your little mortal female?”
“She’s wonderful.”
A slow smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I see. Does that mean . . . ?”
“Of course not! I just met the girl.”
“But you like her?”
“Very much. Probably more than I should.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I can’t just carry her off to my lair.”
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