Night's Illusion

by Amanda Ashley

  “Tell me about your childhood,” Johnny said.

  “Why?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

  She hesitated, embarrassed by her sordid childhood. Would he think less of her when he knew how she’d lived, what she had done to survive? Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, she said, “I was an only child. My father was a drug dealer, which was nice for my mother, since she was hooked on meth. I’m not even sure they were married. They fought a lot. I learned early to cook and take care of myself because neither one of them had much time for me.”

  She looked down at her hands, remembering how envious she had always been of the kids at school who had caring parents, kids who had good lunches and clean clothes and dreams of a bright future. She’d had dreams, too, of being a beautician with a salon of her own. “One day when I was fifteen, I came home from school and they were both gone.” Her dreams had died that day. “I thought they’d just gone out drinking or something, but they never came back.” She shrugged, as if it was of no importance. “I never saw either one of them again.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I stayed in the house until the landlord came for the rent. I hocked what little my parents had left behind that was worth anything, but it wasn’t enough and he evicted me. I couldn’t afford another place and I had nowhere else to go, so late at night, I broke into houses that were for sale. Not nice ones that had alarms and cameras, but the ones in run-down neighborhoods. When my money ran out . . .” She bit down on her lower lip. “Do you want to hear my confession?”

  Giovanni frowned. “Is there something you need to confess?”

  She nodded, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “When I ran out of money, I turned to stealing whatever I could—food, cash. Once I stole a car someone had left running and sold it to a dealer who didn’t ask any questions. Another time, I found a wallet with some money in it, and I kept it.”

  “I can’t condone what you did,” he said, his voice kind. “But I can understand your reasons. You must realize that any forgiveness I offer is only between you and me.” Still, he was sure Heaven would understand the why of the sins she had committed and forgive her.

  “I know.”

  He made the sign of the cross on her brow. “I forgive you for your past sins, Cassie, on condition that you don’t repeat them.”

  She smiled up at him. “Thank you. I feel better.”

  “Good.” Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her gently, and then more deeply.

  She wrapped her arms around him, one hand delving under his shirt, sliding up and down his back. His skin was cool and firm beneath her fingertips.

  He gasped her name as desire swept through him with the intensity of a forest fire. “Cassie!”

  Pulling away from him, she asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

  He groaned low in his throat. “No, but . . .”

  “I want you,” she whispered. “I know you want me.”

  “Cassie . . . please don’t make this any more difficult than it is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I do want you, but I’m afraid. . . .”

  “Afraid of what?”

  Sitting up, he buried his face in his hands. “Cassie, I’m a vampire.”

  “Yes, I know. But . . . what are you afraid of?”

  “My desire for you is for more than just for your . . . your body.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t. I never understood it myself until now. For my kind, desire is closely entwined with our thirst for blood. I’m afraid of... of hurting you.”

  She stared at him a moment, trying to make sense of what he was telling her.

  And then he looked up at her, a faint red glow in his eyes, and she knew. “You’re afraid that if we make love, you might . . .” She couldn’t say the words feed on me out loud.

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. What if I can’t control my hunger? What if I take too much?” What if he killed her? He raked his fingers through his hair, then lurched to his feet. “I should go.”

  “Will I see you tomorrow night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We can take it slow, like you said. I know you’re afraid. But I’m willing to risk it. Are you?”

  Was he? After getting to know her, care for her, did he want to go on without her? What if he hurt her? Killed her? What if he didn’t? Was he going to let the fear of something that might never happen keep him from the woman he loved? Because he did love her. Deeply. Desperately.

  “Johnny?”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said.

  And hoped she wouldn’t live to regret it.

  * * *

  After leaving Cassie, Giovanni wandered the streets for hours, his mind in turmoil. He was haunted by images of taking her in his arms, caressing her, kissing her, until, overcome with lust and hunger, he buried his fangs in her throat and ravished her. He told himself he had more self-control than that. Hadn’t he proved it by centuries of abstinence? But what if he was wrong? He shook his head. She might be willing to risk her life, he thought ruefully, but was he? What if loving her, being with her, only made his lust and his hunger grow stronger? If he hurt her . . . He groaned low in his throat. How could he give her up when he’d just found her? But if he truly loved her, how could he continue to put her life at risk? Best to leave now, while he still could.

  * * *

  Lost in thought, Cassie sat on the sofa. It was time to do some serious soul-searching. Was it wise to continue a relationship with a vampire? Johnny was afraid of hurting her. If he was afraid, why wasn’t she? Was she being foolish? Suicidal? She hadn’t trusted anyone in years, and yet here she was, putting her heart and her life in the hands of a vampire she’d known only a short time. She grinned inwardly. Talk about walking on the wild side. But then, she’d grown up taking risks—staying in her parents’ house after they deserted her, stealing food and cash to survive, breaking into vacant homes to spend the night. She had always lived life on the edge. Why stop now?

  * * *

  In spite of his fear that seeing Cassie again was a mistake, Giovanni found himself waiting for her outside the Winchester Lounge the following night.

  “I’m surprised to see you,” she said, smiling tentatively. “Even though you said you’d meet me, I didn’t think you meant it.”

  “I couldn’t stay away.” He handed her a small velvet box.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  Curious, she lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, was a beautiful silver crucifix on a thick, silver chain. She looked at him askance. “So, the rumors are true? Vampires are repelled by crosses?”

  “Not exactly. But silver against preternatural flesh burns like the devil and leaves a hell of a scar. Should I ever try to bite you, just slap it against my skin and I’ll back off right quick.”

  “Vampire health insurance,” she murmured. “How quaint.”

  “It’s not funny, Cassie.”

  “I know. Thank you,” she said, fastening the chain around her neck. “It’s lovely.” She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her a present. And it meant all the more because he had given it to her, no matter the reason.

  They walked in silence for a moment before she asked, “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “I was just thinking that.... Never mind.”

  “What?”

  “If we’re going to keep seeing each other, why don’t you move into my house? It’s a lot nicer than your place. It’s got a TV and Wi-Fi and you would have your own room. You wouldn’t have to pay rent, so you could save some money. You’d have a car at your disposal. I know you said no the last time I asked, but we know each other a little better now, and. . . .”

  It made sense, in a way, Cassie thought. And it would save her a lot of money.

  “You’ll have the place all to yourself during the
day. I take my rest elsewhere.”

  “All right,” Cassie said. “I guess we can try it for a few weeks and see how it works out.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Yes. I’d love to get out of my place. I found a dead rat in the toilet this morning.”

  “Are you working tomorrow?” he asked as they reached her building.

  “ No.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you pack your things and do whatever else you need to do? I’ll pick you up at sundown and you can move in tomorrow night.”

  “Sounds perfect! See you then.”

  “Okay if I kiss you good night?”

  She gazed up at him. “You never have to ask.”

  Feeling blessed, he took her in his arms and kissed her, wondering what he had ever done to have met such an amazing woman. “Good night, Cassie.”

  “’Night, Johnny.” Humming softly, she ran up the stairs. Who would have thought that meeting a priest would turn out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her? She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve him, but she intended to make him the happiest man in the world.

  Cassie grinned inwardly. She just might be falling in love with a vampire.

  * * *

  She didn’t have much to pack. Her clothes and shoes went in one bag. The Minnie Mouse doll she had loved when she was a little girl went in another bag, along with an old framed photo of her mother, a throw pillow she’d won at a carnival, a fleece blanket, and a few toiletries. She piled what few foodstuffs she had in a cardboard box. She started to pack her dishes, then decided against it. They were old and chipped. She was moving into a new place. It was time for a matching set of dishes and silverware, a couple of new pots and pans.

  She gave the apartment a cursory cleaning, took a shower, washed her hair, and she was ready to go when the sun went down.

  Johnny arrived five minutes later. “All set?” he asked.

  In reply, she gestured at the things piled on the sofa.

  “Is that everything?”

  She shrugged. “I travel light.”

  “All right, let’s go. I’ll carry the box,” he said, tucking it under his arm. “You get the rest.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked when he slipped his free arm around her waist.

  “I’m going to take you to my place.”

  “How?”

  “Hard to explain. Just don’t make any sudden moves.”

  Before she could question him further, his arm tightened around her and they were moving, but not in any way she recognized. Before she could even figure out what was happening, the trip was over and she found herself standing in another place.

  “Welcome to your new home,” Johnny said.

  Head still reeling, stomach roiling, Cassie glanced around. There were crosses, large and small, as well as several small clay and porcelain figures, and pictures of the Virgin Mary and other saints. A particularly large crucifix enjoyed a prominent place on the wall above the white-brick fireplace. The room was square, the walls painted a pale green, the floors covered in a darker green carpet. A flowered sofa, flanked by a pair of walnut end tables, stood against one wall. An easy chair and ottoman took up one corner. A small den opened off the living room. Through the door, she could see a leather sofa. A large, flat-screen TV hung on the wall across from the sofa. A small bookcase held books and DVDs.

  “Nice,” she said, wondering if he had decorated the place himself.

  “The bedrooms and baths are down the hall. My bedroom is the last one on the right. Take any of the others you like. The last one on the left is the biggest.” He had moved his things out of there last night and switched the beds, thinking she would likely prefer the larger room and closet. “I’ll put this stuff in the kitchen.”

  Cassie nodded, only then remembering that vampires didn’t eat. Were there appliances in the kitchen? Why would there be?

  As she carried the bags down the hall, she peered into the bedrooms. The first three were painted white and unfurnished. She paused at Johnny’s room. The door was open and she looked inside. A cross hung on the wall over the double bed. Beige drapes hung at the single window; the walls were white, the carpet a darker beige than the drapes. A lovely statue of the Virgin Mary stood atop a modest chest of drawers across from the bed.

  Crossing the hall, she opened the door to the room that would be hers. It was, indeed, larger than the others and the only one with its own bathroom. She dropped her bags on the foot of the king-sized bed and looked around. The walls were a pale blue; the drapes, heavily lined, a shade darker. A four-drawer chest and a small padded rocking chair were the room’s only other furnishings.

  Except for religious objects, she hadn’t noticed any pictures or knickknacks in the house, she thought as she made her way to the kitchen. But then, guys didn’t seem to collect knickknacks the way women did.

  “I’m surprised you have a stove and refrigerator,” she remarked, standing in the doorway.

  He shrugged. “They came with the house. So, what do you think of the place?”

  “It’s lovely,” she said, and then grinned. “No one would ever guess a vampire lives here.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Why?” She cocked her head to the side, a grin playing over her lips. “There’s no coffin, no cobwebs, no creepy Renfield eating bugs and hovering in the shadows.”

  “You’ve seen way too many horror movies,” he said, chuckling.

  “I guess. Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you . . . I mean, in the movies . . . Do you sleep in a . . . a coffin?”

  “No.” He was about to tell her he slept on the floor in the bowels of an old church but decided against it. He wasn’t sure what she’d think, but he didn’t want to freak her out.

  At least until she knew him better.

  “I need to go to the store and buy a few things,” she said. “You know, bread and milk and eggs.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  She felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of riding in the Mustang again. She loved the purr of the engine. The sense of power beneath the hood.

  A door at the end of the hallway led to the garage. Johnny punched the button to raise the door. Seeing the look of anticipation on Cassie’s face, he said, “Feel free to use it whenever you want.”

  “Do you mean it? I can drive your Mustang?”

  “Sure.” He tossed her the keys, then opened the driver’s side door for her.

  She grinned at him as she slid behind the wheel.

  Laughing softly, he shut the door and went around to the passenger side.

  He’d barely gotten inside when she peeled out of the garage, leaving a trail of rubber behind. “You do have a driver’s license, don’t you?” he asked dubiously.

  “Of course,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Relax.”

  Relax? He didn’t think so. He breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the grocery store.

  He was definitely driving home.

  Chapter 15

  At home, Giovanni helped Cassie put the groceries away. The way food was produced had changed drastically since he was a boy. Even after all this time, he found it quite fascinating. In his day, people grew their own fruits and vegetables, raised their own cattle, sheep, pigs, and chickens. They had spun their own cloth, chopped wood for heating and cooking. But those days were long gone. Now bread came already sliced and wrapped in plastic. It was no longer necessary to butcher your own meat—you could find it already cut, weighed, and packaged. Milk came in handy cartons. There were aisles and aisles of bins containing fruits and vegetables from all over the world. Nuts in handy jars. Pretty much everything and anything people could possibly want available at any season of the year. Truly an amazing age.

  He no longer had any real desire for mortal food, save for a good glass of wine, and yet he sometimes wished he could taste a few of the things Cassie had brought home—such as pistachio ice cream and tac
os, and maybe a chocolate bar or two. He saw such things advertised on TV and couldn’t help wondering what they tasted like.

  As if reading his thoughts, Cassie asked, “Do you ever miss eating?”

  “Sometimes, like now,” he admitted. “In my day, we didn’t have so many choices. Food was often scarce. In times of war, the armies came through and carried away everything they could, leaving families to starve.”

  “That’s terrible,” she said as she stacked several cans on a shelf. And yet it was happening today, too, she thought. Wars were raging in many foreign countries, tearing families apart, killing young and old alike. “What would happen if you ate something? Say, an apple or a banana?”

  “It would be vile,” he said with a grimace. “I actually tried eating an orange once. The consequences were not worth repeating.”

  She grinned at him. “Does it bother you, watching me eat?”

  “ No.”

  She quickly put the milk and eggs in the refrigerator, the bread in the cupboard. “How often do you have to . . . ?” She frowned. “Do you call it eating or drinking or . . . ?”

  “I can go several days without feeding, perhaps a week.” Then, curious to see her reaction, he said, “But I generally feed every day or so, simply because I enjoy it.” He grinned as she tried to hide her revulsion. “ I only take a little. Going for a long period without feeding weakens us.”

  Cassie put away the last of the groceries. “Do you mind my asking so many questions?”

  “No. I want no secrets between us. You may ask me anything you wish.”

  Something warm and intimate passed between them as they smiled at each other. Giovanni closed the distance between them and, somewhat tentatively, took her in his arms. She went willingly, lifting her face for his kiss. He gazed into her eyes a moment before claiming her lips with his.

  As always, whenever he kissed her, he was surprised by how quickly he wanted more than just kisses. His whole body came alive as she leaned into him, her lips sweet and pliable, her breasts warm against his chest. He felt a rush of embarrassment when he realized she could likely feel his arousal, but she didn’t back away.