Lanie searched through the covers for her nightshirt, damning the unfairness of it all. Mac didn’t deserve this, but rather than succumb, he was going to do the honorable thing and take his own life. He didn’t want to risk hurting anyone—anyone else, that is. Thinking of the homeless men, something didn’t seem right. She hadn’t known Mac long, but he’d proved his mettle time and again. Hadn’t he pushed her out of the way of the attacking chupacabra? Thrust her behind him when the researcher had turned into a vampire and come after them? Only minutes ago, in the middle of a heated moment when she was totally at his mercy, he could have easily killed her—but he didn’t. He’d pulled himself from her as soon as he realized what he’d done.
Scrambling from the bed, she looked under it for her nightshirt, but still couldn’t find it. Frustrated, she ripped the covers off, letting them pile on the floor, feeling blind in the darkened room. Growing desperate, she raced to the window and threw open the curtains, letting bright sunlight flood the room. That’s when she saw the huge brown stain on the wall.
Crossing to it, she noticed a brown paper bag and what looked like a take-out soup carton in the trash can by the desk. Though concern for Mac urged her to hurry, curiosity won out and she picked up the carton. The inside was covered with the same brownish red substance that stained the wall—and also Mac’s shirt. Looking inside the bag, she saw another carton, this one sealed, and a small white piece of paper—the register receipt.
Pulling it out, she saw the name of DAVE’S ALL-NIGHT BUTCHER SHOP across the top and the itemized listing for two cups of pig’s blood.
With the amount of blood on the wall, the carpet, and his shirt, Lanie didn’t think he could have consumed very much. She pulled out the other container. It felt full.
Placing all of it on the desk, she went back to looking for her green shirt. With light filling the room, she quickly spotted it half buried in the pile of blue bedspread. The shirt was long enough to reach her mid-thigh and feeling like she’d already wasted too much time, she yanked it over her head and raced out of the room.
She reached the elevators and pressed the down button—and waited. It seemed to take forever, and growing too impatient to wait, she headed for the stairs, feeling she could run down the three flights faster than the elevator could take her.
She burst out of the exit on the lobby level winded and desperate. She ignored the stares of hotel staff and guests as she scanned the area, looking for the one person who wasn’t there.
Afraid she might already be too late, she hurried outside, quickly looking up and down the sidewalk. She had no idea if Mac would burst into flames under the sun’s rays or not, but she prayed she didn’t find a pile of ash on the sidewalk.
When she didn’t see either Mac or a pile of ashes, it occurred to her that he might have chosen someplace more private for his final moments. She looked around and noticed the opening to the alley beside the hotel. She ran the length of the sidewalk, ignoring the bite of the hot concrete on her bare feet.
When she reached the alley’s opening, she stopped long enough to check for exiting cars and then dashed into it. Midway down, leaning against the wall as if in pain, with his hand over his eyes, stood Mac.
She raced to him, feeling more relieved than she wanted to admit. “Mac, it’s me.” She tried to grab his arms, but he shook her off.
“Leave me alone. I have to do this.”
“The sun’s not going to kill you,” she argued, glancing up. “In fact, I’m not sure it’ll even give you a decent tan today.”
He resisted her efforts.
“Please, Mac. We don’t even know if vampires really burn in sunlight. The chupacabra didn’t; it turned to stone. So how are you feeling? Are your limbs stiff?”
Suddenly he stilled. “Lanie, so help me, if you’re screwing with me—”
She smiled because he couldn’t see her and reached for his arm again. This time, he didn’t fight her off.
“Listen, I’m not really dressed to be outside. Can we go back to the room?”
His hand still covered his eyes. “I can’t see.” He didn’t sound panicked; she wasn’t sure he’d know how to sound panicked, but she could tell from his clipped tone that he was upset.
“Your eyes are sensitive to the light, that’s all. You’ll be fine once you have your sunglasses. Keep your eyes closed and take my arm. Here, like this.” She took his hand and placed it at the crook of her elbow. “Now, just follow my lead.”
Moving slowly, she guided him through the hotel’s side entrance. Once they were far enough indoors, she stopped.
“It’s not as bright in here; do you want to try opening your eyes?” Mac gradually pulled his hand away and blinked several times. Lanie saw immediately that they were red and irritated.
“Better?”
He gave an almost imperceptible nod and then, as if suddenly noticing her lack of proper clothing, he gave her a stern look, his eyes raking over her from head to toe. This time when he grabbed her elbow, she wasn’t sure who was leading whom.
When they reached their rooms, Lanie realized she had forgotten to grab her key card. She almost laughed when Mac reached into his pocket and pulled out his. He was the perfect Boy Scout, she thought, always prepared—even when planning his own death.
“Is it too early for a drink?” she joked, trying to break the tension as she hurried over to the drapes and closed them again.
He didn’t even crack a smile. “Don’t you understand the severity of this situation? I’m turning into what they are. Just because I’m in control of my thoughts and actions at this particular moment doesn’t mean that I won’t morph into the thing I was when I killed those homeless men.” He walked over to where his duffel bag rested on a stand inside the closet. “Go to your room, Lanie. Shut the connecting door, and don’t come back in here for any reason.”
She didn’t like the sound of his voice. “What are you going to do?”
He pulled something from the bag as he turned to give her an exasperated look. “Would you please go next door? You’re only making this harder.”
She gasped when she saw the gun in his hand, and her thoughts started racing.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting to this a little?”
“Lanie, I killed those homeless men.”
“You don’t know that. You told me yourself that you couldn’t remember what you did last night.”
He gestured to her neck. “I practically killed you.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “Oh, please. I’ve drawn more blood shaving my legs.”
He shook his head. “It’s more than that. I liked the taste of your blood.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Well, eeeuw—but still not convincing evidence that you deserve to die.”
“That creature changed me when it attacked me. All my old injuries have healed, I can move incredibly fast, my night vision is better than most people’s day vision, the sun hurts my eyes. I’m full of energy after dark, but once the sun comes up, it’s almost impossible for me to stay awake.”
Lanie held up her hand to stop his litany of changes. “Mac, I have no doubt that you’ve been changed because of that attack, and I think that had the chupa killed you, the venom would have brought you back as a vampire. But you didn’t die. Therefore, you’re not like the vampires we’ve seen. I mean, come on, Mac—taking a little blood in the heat of the moment is a lot different from what my father and Burton did to those researchers, or to Davis.”
When he still seemed unconvinced, she pressed on. “At any time this morning, you could have killed me, but you didn’t. You’re in control of yourself.”
He shook his head. “But for how long? Look what I did to those men.”
“I’m not sure you killed them.” She walked across the room and picked up the bag containing the empty containers of pig’s blood. “Look what I found.” She handed him the bag.
Mac stared at it in surprise. “Where’d you find this?”
She took the bag from him and pulled out the full container. “This one is still full.” She peeled off the lid and wanted to throw up. Inside was partially congealed dark red pig’s blood. “You say you like the taste of blood? Here, drink this.” She held it out to him, her gaze locked with his so he’d know she was serious. Slowly, he accepted the cup from her and raised it to his lips, but that’s as far as he went. She saw the disgust on his face as he lowered the cup and set it on the desk.
“Maybe I only like human blood.”
She wanted to hit him, but instead stared at him for several seconds, blinking. “Fine.” She pulled her hair off to one side as she walked over to stand directly in front of him and then tilted her neck. “Have at it.”
For several long seconds they stood there, and she felt his gaze on her exposed neck and prayed she hadn’t misjudged his nature. When it was obvious he wasn’t going to bite her, she straightened. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand gently on the one still holding the gun. “You’ve gone through some changes, but you’re not a killer.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” she agreed, slipping her hand over the barrel of the gun so she could point it away from her as she slipped it from his hand. He seemed stunned, and slightly amused, by her daring, but didn’t try to stop her. “Tell you what,” she continued. “If you do turn out to be a full-fledged vampire—I’ll shoot you myself.”
His eyes opened wide and the barest hint of a smile touched his lips. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Besides, you shooting yourself wouldn’t do the trick. Based on our previous experience, if you really are a vampire, it’s going to take more than one bullet to kill you. How were you planning to pull that off?”
The phone rang before Mac could respond, and he walked across the room to answer it. Lanie thought his voice sounded remarkably normal, under the circumstances.
The conversation lasted only a few minutes and from what she heard on Mac’s side, he was talking to Uncle Charles. When he hung up, he turned to her. “Damn. I forgot about the reception tonight.”
“What kind of reception?”
“It’s sort of a bon voyage for one of the captains who’s retiring. Since so many of us are in town, they decided to make a big event out of it.”
“Oh.”
“In fact, it’s black tie. How ’bout it?”
Her heart gave a small flutter of excitement. “You want me to go with you?” She prayed she didn’t sound too much like a schoolgirl who’d just been asked to the prom. Leave it to Mac to bring her back to reality, though.
“Yeah, I want you to go. I can’t leave you here alone.”
Of course, she thought. This wasn’t a date. He had a girlfriend—which was a whole other issue Lanie knew she’d have to deal with soon. She did not have sex with other women’s boyfriends.
“I’ll have to go shopping.”
“Fine. I’ll take you.”
“That’s okay. I’m a big girl. I think I can handle buying an evening gown on my own.”
He gave her a curious look. “I meant that I wanted to buy the dress for you.”
“Oh.” That took her by surprise. “Why?” Then she knew. It was a guilt gift, either for trying to rip out her throat or for almost having sex with her—or both. Lanie sighed. Maybe now was the time for that talk after all.
“Mac, what about Sandra?”
He had the audacity to look confused. “What about her?”
Lanie gave him a pointed look that, being male, he totally misinterpreted. “Oh, that. I called her from the plane earlier and told her we wouldn’t be flying back for a couple of days. I’ll tell her about the vampire thing later. I don’t want to worry her.”
Lanie heaved a labored sigh. “What about what happened this morning—before you bit my neck?”
He cringed at the reminder. “That’s not really any of her business.”
Lanie was shocked at his attitude. “You don’t think your girlfriend has the right to—”
“Sister.”
“What did you say?”
“Sandra is my sister.”
Lanie felt herself grow red as she tried to ignore the grin spreading across his face. “You call your sister Babycakes?”
“Actually, Keith, my partner, started calling her Babycakes about five years ago, when they began dating. Now they’re married, but the name sort of stuck. She hates it, which of course is why I use it.”
“That’s . . . nice,” she offered lamely.
“So you’ll go to the reception with me?”
“Are you asking me—or telling me?”
He gave her a slow, easy grin that did funny things to her insides. “Asking.”
“Then yes, I’d love to go. Thank you.”
He took a step toward her and it was more than she could take. “You know what? I think I’m going to run next door now and get dressed.” She hurried across the room and then stopped at the door, seconds from a clean escape. “I almost forgot. Dirk phoned and wants you to call him.”
Mac told himself that he wouldn’t smile as she bolted through the door, but he couldn’t help it. He enjoyed her discomfort because it meant that despite the fears she might have regarding his humanity, or the lack thereof, she found him attractive—as a man. If he’d doubted it, he had only to consider the little bout of jealousy she’d quickly tried to hide when she’d thought Sandra was his girlfriend. The revelation buoyed him like nothing else had so far.
Maybe, just maybe, if he got this “vampire” thing under control—or better yet, got over it completely—they could pick up where they’d left off this morning. He hoped so, because the memory of her body against his would be burned into his flesh and his mind for a long, long time.
He waited until he saw the connecting door to her room close, and then he crossed to the phone. He called the satellite phone number Dirk had given him and waited for the other man to answer. It didn’t take long.
“About damn time,” Dirk said when he found out who it was. “Everything okay? Your girlfriend said you were sleeping when I called earlier.”
Remembering the way Dirk had looked at Lanie back at the research facility, Mac decided not to correct the misconception that she was his girlfriend. “Yeah, rough night,” he said, letting Dirk interpret that any way he wanted to. “What’s up? Lanie said it was important.”
“We found your plane.”
Mac was instantly alert. “Here in D.C.?”
“Close enough. It’s still in one piece, but there was no sign of Burton or anyone else.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. What the hell is Burton doing here?”
Mac’s thoughts turned to the homeless men, wondering if he was drawing the logical conclusion—or if it was wishful thinking that Burton was responsible.
“Damned if I know. Let’s keep our eyes open,” Mac suggested. “Thanks for the intel. Where’s my plane now?”
“Old cornfield, not far from here.” Dirk gave him the location. “Anything else I can do?”
Mac’s mind was already thinking to the day ahead. “I don’t know yet. Keep your phone on, okay?”
“Roger that.”
Mac hung up and, after hearing the shower go off in the next room, knocked on the connecting doors. After a moment the door opened and Lanie stood there, a towel wrapped around her freshly washed body. Mac had to swallow a groan. Her skin still bore a fine sheen of moisture, and the smell of her soap and shampoo lingered in the air. Mesmerized, he watched a droplet of water fall from a dangling tendril of wet hair and land at the base of her throat before it rolled downward and disappeared into her generous
cleavage.
Immediately his body tightened in response and he was almost overcome by the urge to rip off the towel and carry her to the bed.
Instead, he cleared his throat and took a step away from her. “I talked to Dirk and they found my plane not far from here.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Here? Then that means Burton and my dad could be in town.”
“Exactly.”
Her brow furrowed. “But I thought you said he wouldn’t come here.”
Mac shrugged. “It doesn’t make any sense.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Digging in it, he pulled out several large bills and held them out to her. “I know I promised to take you shopping, but I need to go pick up my plane. You’ll have to go without me. Take this and use it.”
She shook her head. “That’s okay. I have my own money—”
Mac took her hand and pressed the bills into it. “I insist. I’m bailing on the shopping spree, not the reception.” He hesitated. “Plus, I feel guilty for, you know.” He waved his hand toward her neck.
He realized his mistake immediately, but it was too late to take it back. He watched the flush spread from her face down her neck and saw the spark of anger light her eyes as she gripped the money in her hand. “Well, if it’s a matter of easing your guilt, by all means, let me see what I can do.”
It was too late to take back his words, so he merely smiled.
“I should probably run,” he told her, hating the thought of leaving her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She nodded, but there was a worried expression on her face that he recognized. When he backed into his room, she followed him.
“Mac, if Burton and my father are in town, then it’s more likely that one, or both, of them killed those homeless men.”
He nodded. “The thought crossed my mind.”
She bit her lip as a worried expression fell over her face. “It also means that those men—”
“I thought of that, too, so no worries, okay?”
She nodded, still looking worried. “Okay, but are you sure you don’t need help with—”
Out of the Night Page 11