Shannah frowned. His sister’s kid? She couldn’t help wondering if the sister knew that her brother was a vampire. At the same time, it suddenly made vampires seem more human, somehow. He had a sister and a niece, which meant he wasn’t a very old vampire, unless his sister and her family were vampires, too. Did his family know what he was? And if they didn’t know, how did he manage to keep it a secret?
“Are you ready to go?” Ronan asked.
“Yes,” she said, smothering a yawn. “I’m a little tired.”
Leaving the club, Ronan hailed a cab. Once inside, he drew Shannah into the circle of his arms and held her close. Brushing a kiss across the top of her head, he considered how much his lifestyle had changed since she had shown up on his front porch. His existence, which had been simple and blissfully free of complications for hundreds of years, had turned upside down, and all because of this one frail mortal female.
He knew she had been ill at ease in the club, but she hadn’t seemed repulsed, or worse, frightened. He didn’t want to force the Dark Trick on her, but he wasn’t sure he could accept her decision if she refused. Would she hate him if he brought her across against her will, or thank him once it was done? His one fear was that she would despise him for doing it, despise herself for what she had become, and destroy herself. That was the one thing he knew he could never live with.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jim Hewitt paced the floor of his hotel room. “Dammit, where the devil are they?”
With a shrug, Carl Overstreet sat back in the room’s only chair. “Beats the heck out of me. Maybe he left town and took her with him. Maybe he killed her.”
Hewitt swore. They had staked out the vampire’s lair day and night. For the last week, there had been no visible sign of activity in the house. Alarmed, Hewitt had gone to the house and knocked on the door and when there was no answer, he had tried looking in the windows. Yesterday morning, he had broken a back window and gone inside, afraid of what he might find. But the house was empty. There was no sign of foul play. No sign of the vampire at all. He had found a small suitcase containing women’s clothes, and an overnight bag in the living room. He had found more clothing in the bedroom closet, which had him hoping that she was still alive and would be returning to the house sooner or later. On the other hand, he had known vampires to quit their current residence at a moment’s notice and never return.
He swore again. If anything had happened to the woman, it would be his fault. He had bungled this hunt from the beginning. He just hoped that Eva Black wasn’t paying for it. He had seen a number of vampire kills in his time. Bodies drained of blood, some with their throats torn away, some who appeared to be sleeping, until you realized their skin was the color of paper. Either way, it was never a pretty sight.
Killing a vampire was never easy, or pretty for that matter, he mused ruefully. Whether they were dispatched while resting in their coffins or they were awake and defending themselves, it was never easy and always messy.
“I’m going to go out and check the house again,” he said, caressing the hawthorn stake he had made earlier that day. “Maybe this time I’ll get lucky.”
“Okay, see ya,” Overstreet said.
Powering up his laptop, he began to write his next article.
So, dear reader, we come together again. Our subject this week is vampire hunters. I see your eyebrows going up, your smirk, your disbelief. Vampire hunters, indeed, you’re thinking. Poppycock! Well, I didn’t think these wielders of holy water existed either, until I met one. To preserve his anonymity, I’m going to call him Steve.
Steve is thirty-five years old and he’s been hunting vampires for eighteen years. When I asked him how he came to such a profession, he shrugged and said, “It’s what my family does.” Apparently vampire hunters are born, not made.
Vampire hunting, it turns out, is a pretty lucrative business, which is a good thing, since cleaning bills and new clothes for hunters are probably astronomical, given all the blood involved in lopping off heads and ripping out hearts.
But I digress. I can see that many of you are skeptical and think I’m making this up. Be assured that I’m quite serious. If you’re smart, you won’t wander outside after dark, or invite strangers into your house. If you’re a believer, buy yourself a good sturdy crucifix and keep it with you at all times. A word of caution, a cross is only as effective as your faith.
Until next time, watch your neck!
Chapter Twenty-Five
During the next several nights, Ronan introduced Shannah to a number of vampires, both male and female. Xavier and Tonio worked at the Aladdin, Michal worked at the Bellagio. Francine, who was tall and willowy with long blond hair and incredible green eyes, was a dancer in one of the night clubs on the Strip; Cleo was a standup comedienne, Domini was a cocktail waitress at the Diamondback.
Shannah found them all to be rather charming, especially Pete Sandoval. She hadn’t expected to like Ronan’s friends, and she hadn’t expected them to like her, either. After all, they were vampires, predators, and she was prey. It was all so strange. Looking at them, she never would have guessed they were vampires. Of course, Ronan didn’t look like one of the Undead, either, most of the time. Except for Pete Sandoval, all the vampires Ronan had introduced her to were young in the life. Of course, vampires considered anyone under two hundred years old to be young.
She watched them all, noting that they laughed at each other’s jokes, most of which Shannah found rather macabre. When they weren’t working, they went out on the town, going to the shows, trying their luck at the gaming tables, or just wandering along the city streets like the rest of the tourists, peering in shop windows, marveling at the lights and the fountains. She hadn’t expected vampires to have a sense of humor, or to enjoy shopping and movies. Ronan had been right. The Undead were pretty much like the living, all things considered.
Shannah enjoyed their company. But she enjoyed being alone with Ronan most of all. He took her to the best restaurants in the city and kept her company while she ate. He took her shopping at the most exclusive stores, insisting that she buy whatever she liked no matter what the cost. Until she met Ronan, she had never had the pleasure or the luxury of buying new clothes without worrying about the price. Her parents hadn’t been poor by any means, but they weren’t rich, either, at least not in the way Ronan was rich.
The only time she was ill at ease was when he left her at the hotel while he went in search of prey. She knew now where he had gone all those nights back home when he’d had to go out. She tried to accept it, to tell herself that it was normal for him, a part of his existence, and that he would die without it. She reminded herself that he wasn’t really hurting the people he preyed upon, that, unlike movie vampires, he wasn’t a ravening monster who ripped out people’s throats. But the thought of what he did to survive, what his friends did, sickened her just the same.
He had given her his blood on numerous occasions.
It was the reason for her renewed health and strength. If it wasn’t for Ronan’s blood, she knew she would be dead now. How could she condemn him for drinking blood to stay alive when she had done the same thing, and for the same reason?
He was out hunting now. Rather than wait in their room, Shannah had gone down to the casino. There was something exciting about the lights and the noise, though she tired of it all rather quickly. She glanced at her watch, wondering how much longer he would be, wondering what the tourists would think if they knew that the dealer at the blackjack table and the pretty waitress serving drinks were vampires.
Shannah was absently feeding quarters into her favorite slot machine when Ronan found her twenty minutes later.
“Come on,” he said with a grin, “we don’t want to be late.”
“Late?” she asked, smiling. “Late for what?”
“Pete and Francine are getting married.”
Shannah blinked at him. “Married?” Vampires getting married. It was something she had never contempla
ted.
Ronan nodded, his expression rueful. “I can’t believe it, either, but they want us to be their witnesses.”
“Do a lot of vampires get married?”
“Not often, but it happens.”
“Do they always marry other vampires?”
His gaze rested on her face. “Not always.”
Shannah frowned. Ronan had been a vampire for over five hundred years. What if he married a vampire and they lived another five hundred years? Could any relationship possibly survive that long? Talk about being in love forever! She shook her head. Could any marriage, even the most sublime, endure for five centuries?
“Come on, love.”
Laughing, she dropped her winnings into her purse and followed Ronan out of the casino. Taking her by the hand, he led the way down the street to a small white chapel.
Pete and Francine were waiting inside, along with Xavier, Domini, and Cleo. Pete wore a black tuxedo with a red bow tie and a matching cummerbund, Francine wore a slinky red dress that was slit up the sides, matching stiletto heels, and a red hat with a short veil.
“I’m glad you two could make it,” Pete said as they entered the foyer. “Tonio and Michal had to work the late shift tonight.”
“This is kind of sudden, isn’t it?” Ronan asked, shaking the groom’s hand.
“We had the night off and nothing to do,” Pete said with a shrug. “I’ve never been married before and neither has Francine, so we thought, hey, why not give it a try for a hundred years or so and see how it works out.”
A hundred years or so, Shannah thought. Most people didn’t even live that long, yet Pete and Francine were going to spend a century or so seeing how they liked being married because it was their night off and they had nothing better to do.
Xavier snorted softly. “You will probably be tired of each other after the first fifty years.”
Shannah stared at the vampires, thinking that they were making a mockery of something that was sacred. Her great grandparents had been married for sixty-two years. She had always hoped to have a marriage as strong and lasting as theirs had been, but that wouldn’t happen now.
She stood beside Ronan, her hand in his, while Pete and Francine were united in marriage by a red-haired man wearing a gold Elvis Presley jumpsuit.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister said in a strong, obviously fake Southern drawl. “You can kiss her now, son, she’s all yours.”
Pete kissed Francine, then swept her into his arms. “We’ll celebrate tomorrow night,” he said, addressing his guests. “Right now, I want to be alone with my bride until the sun comes up.”
Cleo laughed. Xavier patted Pete on the back.
Ronan wished Pete and Francine well, bade Cleo, Domini, and Xavier good night, and then took Shannah by the hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s go, love,” he said quietly.
Hand in hand, they walked back toward the bright lights of the casino.
“Something’s troubling you,” Ronan remarked while they waited for the street light to change. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She raised one shoulder and let it fall. “It’s just that, well, I always thought marriage was special. I know it doesn’t seem to mean much anymore. Celebrities change husbands like they change their underwear. Some of their marriages don’t even last a day! And Pete and Francine…” She shook her head. “They’re getting married because they didn’t have anything else to do tonight. It should mean more than that. People should be in love when they get married. It should mean something, a lifetime commitment. They talk about trying it out for a hundred years. I…” She blinked lest he see her tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run on like that.”
“No harm done, love.”
“I wish…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Stepping into the darkness between two buildings, Ronan pulled her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Holding you.”
She stared up at him and then she leaned into him, her cheek resting on his chest.
“I always wanted a big wedding,” she whispered. “I used to cut out pictures of wedding dresses when I was a little girl and I had a collection of bride dolls…and now…” There would be no long white dress, no honeymoon, no children. She sniffed back her tears. Crying wouldn’t change anything.
Ronan held her close while she cried, one hand stroking her back. He felt her pain and her anger, sensed the illness that was lying in wait to steal her away from him.
She would need his blood before the night was through.
He waited until she was in bed, asleep, before he went in to her. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he spoke softly to her mind. When he held his wrist to her lips, she roused enough to take what she needed before sleep claimed her once more.
Feeling restless, he went out into the night. He hadn’t gone far when Valerie materialized beside him.
“Do you mind if I walk with you?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“You have been here a week,” she said, slipping her arm through his, “and you have not yet come to see me again.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“With your little mortal?”
“Uh-huh.”
“She hasn’t long to live, has she?”
He shook his head. None of the other vampires had detected Shannah’s illness but nothing got by Valerie.
She ran her fingernails lightly over his forearm. “Are you going to bring her across?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you discussed it with her?”
“She’s against it. The funny thing is, I met her because she wanted to be a vampire, or she thought she did. Once she found out it was possible, she changed her mind.”
“Mortals,” Valerie said disdainfully. “I’m surprised they’ve survived as long as they have.”
He laughed softly. Like many ancient vampires, Valerie had conveniently forgotten that she had once been mortal herself.
“It’s a good thing for us that they have,” Ronan replied dryly.
“So true,” Valerie said with a grin. “You care deeply for this girl, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Valerie looked up at him, her gaze probing his. “You’re in love with her.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.
“I’m afraid so.”
“I warned you years ago not to get involved with mortals,” Valerie said. “No good ever comes of it. If you turn her into a vampire, she’ll tire of you sooner or later and strike out on her own. If you don’t bring her across, she’ll die. Either way, you’ll lose her.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I know you’re right.”
“But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”
“No,” Ronan said with a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t change a thing.”
“I’m going out for a midnight snack,” Valerie said. “Will you join me?”
“Maybe another time.”
“As you wish,” she said, and vanished from his sight.
Returning to the hotel, Ronan went up to Shannah’s room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stroked the curve of her cheek, reveling in the warmth and softness of her skin. He ran his fingers through the rich fall of her hair, breathed in the all too human scent of her. She was lovely, more lovely than any woman he had ever known. But it wasn’t her appearance that enthralled him. It was the sweetness of her spirit, the warmth of her smile, her trust.
He sat at her side until dawn’s first light brightened the sky, and then he went in search of his own resting place, impatient for the coming night when he could see her again.
It was late afternoon when Shannah woke. Yawning, she sat up, squinting against the sunlight pouring into the room. Rising, she drew the drapes across the window, shutting out the light.
Ronan couldn’t abide the sun. Was she becoming a vampire? Was that why the sun’s light
hurt her eyes, why she slept so late? Was he turning her into what he was against her will?
He had given her his blood last night. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. How much longer would he be able to keep her alive? She felt good this morning, yet she lacked the abundance of energy she usually felt after she had taken his blood. Did that mean it was losing its effectiveness, or that the end was near and nothing could stop it? She shivered, suddenly cold all over.
Sooner or later, his blood would stop being effective.
Sooner or later she would have to decide between being what he was, or not being at all.
Shaking off her dismal thoughts, she wondered how the newlyweds were doing and then wondered, with a morbid grin, where they were spending the day. Did they have a double casket? Were they sharing the same one? Or had they just pushed their old ones close together, like twin beds? The thought gave her the creeps.
Feeling tired in spite of the fact that she had just gotten out of bed, she called room service and ordered something to eat.
After breakfast, she combed her hair and brushed her teeth and then decided she just didn’t have the energy or the desire to get dressed and go out.
Still wearing her nightgown, she curled up in a chair. She read one of Ronan’s books for a while, then turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found a movie she wanted to watch.
Ronan found her curled up in the chair when he entered the room shortly before sundown. Her nightgown was black; long and flowing, it kept her modesty intact and managed to be sexy at the same time.
He started to wake her, then changed his mind, deciding she probably needed the rest.
Sitting on the sofa, he thought about what Valerie had said the night before. Most vampires shunned any contact with mortals other than what was necessary for their survival. Until he met Shannah, it had been a rule that he had followed as well.
Was Valerie right? Was he destined to lose Shannah no matter what he did? Tonio had brought a mortal woman across thirty or forty years ago. They had lived together for about ten years before the woman decided she wanted to “see the world on her own.” To Ronan’s knowledge, Tonio hadn’t seen or heard from the woman since.
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