Shaylyn shrugged. "Do I need a reason?"
She uncurled from the bed in a smooth, graceful movement, reminding Navarre of a sleek black panther.
"I've missed you, my Navarre." She ran her hands over his shoulders as she swayed seductively against him. "Tell me you've missed me, too."
"What do you want, Shaylyn?"
"I should think that would be obvious."
He caught her hands in his as his body grew heavy. "I can't talk to you now." It was an effort to speak, to think. He glanced at the bed, then at Shaylyn.
She nodded her understanding. "Until later, my sweet," she purred, and, with a wave of her hand, she transformed into an iridescent black mist and disappeared from his sight.
Navarre fought the darkness sweeping over him. His feet felt like lead as he made his way toward the bed. His last thought, as the blackness dragged him down into oblivion, was that he'd have to find another place to pass the hours of daylight.
Chapter Ten
Adrianna went to work, not only because she was in desperate need of something to occupy her mind, but because the bookstore was, after all, her only means of support.
Thursdays were usually quiet, and today was no exception. Her regulars came in for coffee about ten-thirty, then browsed through the racks for half an hour or so.
During a lull, Adrianna went up into the attic and opened one of the boxes that held the books left behind by the previous owner. She grabbed a couple and carried them downstairs, not looking at the titles until she was seated at her desk.
The first book was an old reference book on medieval castles. The second was called The Handbook of the Undead.
Adrianna stared at the title, her heart pounding erratically. After a moment, she opened the book and began thumbing through the pages. There were sections on how to prevent a vampire, how to recognize a vampire, how to destroy a vampire.
She felt a sense of excitement as she turned to the index in the back of the book. And there, under C, she found Curing the Vampire, How to, on page 386.
Was it possible? she wondered. Could Navarre be cured? Her gaze skimmed the instructions. There was a recipe for a potion that must be mixed during the dark of the moon and consumed by the vampire the moment he woke from his rest. A note at the bottom suggested that, for best results, the potion be mixed by a Transylvanian gypsy, preferably a virgin.
Adrianna grimaced, wondering where they'd find a gypsy of any kind in Moreno Bay.
She ran her finger over the ingredients for the potion: a smidgen of mugwort, a pinch of larkspur, a dash of foxglove, a touch of yarrow, a generous helping of cinquefoil, hyssop, rue, and a hint of garlic.
Adrianna frowned. The dark of the moon. Transylvanian gypsies. It sounded ridiculous, and yet, what if it would work?
Her romance book club ladies came in at four, laughing and talking about the latest novels they'd read. They met at her store every Thursday afternoon, to talk about the book they'd read the week before, and to pick a new one for the coming week. Adrianna was a big fan of romances, and she usually sat in with them. But not today. She was too immersed in The Handbook of the Undead, and so she just waved and told them to help themselves to coffee and cookies.
The book was fascinating, though she found it hard to believe anyone could take it seriously. In the Philippines, a vampire called an aswang was believed to be a beautiful female vampire, who was able to marry and have children; however, at night, it flew to other houses to drink the blood of its victims.
In Bulgaria, they believed that a vampire could be destroyed if it could be forced into a bottle, then thrown into a fire.
According to the book, those who were likely candidates for vampirism were those who were born with a red caul, with teeth, or a red birth mark. The seventh son of a seventh son was also likely to become one of the undead, as were those who died without benefit of baptism. A vampire might be made from a corpse if a cat jumped over the body, or the deceased died by drowning.
She frowned when she read that vampires must rest in a coffin. Navarre slept in a bed, just like anyone else.
Much was made of the fact that vampires could be held off by a cross, or other holy relic. Adrianna didn't know if that was true. Anne Rice's vampires had been unaffected by the sight of a cross. Still, on the off-chance there might be some truth to that theory, she made a mental note to buy herself a crucifix before the day was out.
Holy water was also considered to be powerful against vampires. It was said to burn the skin of the undead like acid. It could also be used to detect the presence of vampires. If poured on ground that was under the evil influence of a vampire, it would boil and smoke. Pouring holy water into an empty coffin would seal it against future habitation.
Vampires were also believed to be unable to swim or cross running water, as water was a purifier which would wash away evil and sin. In Greece, those believed to be revenant were banished to a small island, thus isolating them and keeping them from preying on the living. Sometimes, if a body was thought to be possessed, it was put in water. If the body floated, it was believed to be a vampire.
She grunted softly as she read the ways to detect a vampire: red eyes, fangs, long nails, pale skin, aversion to bright lights, no appetite, never seen during the daylight hours, reluctance to enter a house without an invitation…
The description fit Navarre perfectly, except for the part about the daylight hours and the long fingernails. She frowned, remembering the night he had delivered the bed. She'd held the door open for him, but he hadn't entered the house until she had asked him inside.
He really was a vampire. She'd known it before. Believed it. But somehow, reading the paranormal characteristics he possessed in print made them even more real. More frightening.
According to the book, vampires were able to create other vampires, to fly, to dissolve into mist, change size or dimension, and transform themselves into animals. They were also said to be able to control the elements and animals, to scale walls with ease, to hypnotize mortals with a glance.
She felt her gorge rise as she turned to the section on destroying the vampire. Staking, beheading, piercing with a sword, extracting the heart… She shuddered at the gruesome images such methods invoked.
It was after six when she closed the book and put it aside.
She glanced outside, surprised to see that the sun was going down. Dusk. The time when the undead began to stir, when evil made itself known…
She switched on the lights, then hurried through the store, making sure the back door was locked, checking the windows. She collected the clay's receipts and locked them in the safe in the back room.
As she stepped outside and locked the door, she had the sudden, uneasy feeling that she was being watched. Panic rose within her even as she tried to convince herself she was being foolish, that she was just overreacting, that her imagination was working overtime because she'd spent the afternoon reading about the undead.
But she couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom as she unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel.
She was afraid, and yet her first instinct was to drive out to Cliff House, to see Navarre, to curl up in the sure protection of his arms, to tell him she might have discovered a cure.
She didn't like the thought that niggled at the back of her mind, the insidious notion that he liked being a vampire, that he had been playing with her all this time, lulling her into a false sense of security before he buried his fangs in her throat and drank her dry.
Chapter Eleven
Navarre woke with the setting sun. It was going to rain again, he mused as he went downstairs to shower and dress. He could smell the storm in the air, and even as the thought crossed his mind, he heard the first distant echo of thunder.
Moments later, dressed in a heavy white sweater and a pair of faded blue jeans, he settled down to wait.
She didn't keep him waiting long.
"Shaylyn." He murmured her name as she swept into the parlor, lookin
g every inch the goddess she had once pretended to be. A sleek black gown clung to her voluptuous body. Her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back in lush black waves.
"Navarre." She paused inside the doorway. He could tell, by the rosy hue of her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes, that she had just fed.
She crossed the room and sat down beside him, one hand resting possessively on his right thigh. "I've missed you, mi amor," she purred.
"Have you?"
She ran her hand up and down the length of his thigh. "The centuries have been kind to you, Navarre."
"And to you." He met her gaze, his face impassive as her fingertips dug into his flesh. "Why have you come here now?"
"I told you. I missed you." Her hand glided along the inside of his thigh, her touch familiar, intimate. "Haven't you missed me, even a little?"
"No."
"You could have lied, Navarre."
"Would you prefer that to the truth?"
She drew her hand from his thigh, the movement tense and angry.
"So, tell me," she said curtly, "what have you been doing with yourself since I saw you last?"
Navarre shrugged. "Living one day at a time, like everyone else."
Her laugh was dry and bitter. "But you're not like everyone else."
"Thanks to you."
"Indeed."
"What do you want?"
"I want you," she replied. "I want to stay here for a while, and I want you to show me around."
"No."
She went on as if he hadn't spoken. "I've never spent much time in America. I thought you would show me the sights." She leaned toward him, her face filling his vision. "I thought it was time to renew our acquaintance."
He forced himself to remain seated, though he desperately wanted to put some space between them. "No."
"You dare refuse me?"
"I want you to go, Shaylyn. There isn't room enough for the two of us here."
"And what if I don't want to go?"
"You know the rules. I was here first. If you want to stay, you'll have to convince me to leave. Or destroy me."
"You think I won't?"
"I don't know. But I do know you hunted in my territory. And then, when you let the woman live, you didn't even bother to erase her memory of what happened. I can't afford mistakes like that in my terrain, Shaylyn. I don't hunt in Moreno Bay, and I don't want you hunting here, either. I don't want you here at all."
She stood up, her dark eyes blazing with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that!"
"I have every right, and you know it."
"If it wasn't for me, you would have rotted away centuries ago."
He stood to face her, hoping to intimidate her with his size and physical strength, even though he knew her powers were still superior to his. "If it wasn't for you, I might have had a home and a family."
"A home!" She spat the word. "A family! I gave you immortality, and now I want a small part of it."
"I can't give it to you."
"Can't, or won't?"
They glared at each other for stretched seconds, and then, as one, they whirled around.
"Adrianna!" Navarre exclaimed softly.
She started to run to him, and then she saw the other woman. Saw her, and knew that she was a vampire. Lifting a hand to the recently purchased cross that rested beneath her blouse, Adrianna murmured a quiet prayer, hoping that the crucifix did, indeed, possess the power to thwart a vampire. And then she glanced at Navarre, wondering if he had invited the woman here, and if so, for what reason?
She didn't care for the answer that came quickly to mind. Still, Adrianna couldn't help wondering if the other woman had been invited for dinner, and if she was intended to be the main course.
She took a step backward, her gaze fixed on Navarre's face. "Did I come at a bad time?''
"So," Shaylyn remarked, "this is the reason you have no time for an old friend." Her gaze moved over Adrianna in cool assessment. "Does she know what you are?"
"She knows."
Sensing Adrianna's inner distress, Navarre crossed the room and placed a protective arm around her shoulders.
"I see. Aren't you going to introduce us?"
"Adrianna, this is Shaylyn."
"So nice to meet you, my dear," Shaylyn said, her voice laced with venom.
Adrianna pressed closer to Navarre, every instinct, every sense of self-preservation urging her to run for home as fast as she could. She looked up at Navarre, her gaze pleading for assurance that he could protect her from the latent fury in the other woman's eyes.
"Have you nothing to say?" Shaylyn demanded.
"It's… it's nice to meet you, too."
"I'm warning you, Shaylyn, leave her alone."
Adrianna cringed before the wrath in the other woman's gaze. Never had she seen such anger, such jealousy.
"Send her home, Navarre. You may go back to her in a few days, after I'm gone, but for now, I want your time. All of it."
"You're no longer a goddess, Shaylyn, and I'm no longer your slave. I have my own life now, and you have no part in it."
"I'd choose my words more carefully, if I were you," Shaylyn said sweetly, and before he could stop her, she fixed her gaze on Adrianna, her devil-black eyes narrowing with the intensity of her hatred.
With a gasp, Adrianna pressed her hands to her head as a terrible burning pain filled her skull. A low moan rose in her throat as the pain increased. Lights danced in front of her eyes; the strength went out of her legs and she would have fallen if Navarre hadn't caught her in his arms.
"Shaylyn, stop it!"
"As you wish."
Once she was freed of the vampire woman's hold, the pain receded, leaving only a dull ache. Adrianna looked up at Navarre, her eyes filled with fear. She tried to tell him she wanted to go home, but the words wouldn't come. Panic engulfed her, and she raised a hand to her throat, her lips moving, though no sound emerged.
"Dammit, Shaylyn, enough!"
"Oh, very well." With a wave of her hand, Shaylyn broke the spell. "Puny mortal. She has no resistance at all to the power of suggestion."
"Nor has she had thousands of years to learn to be cruel."
"And you, my fine fledgling, have lived long enough to know better than to speak to me like that. The day will come when you will regret those words."
"Shaylyn!"
But it was too late. She was gone.
Adrianna blinked in disbelief. One minute the woman had been standing not two feet away, and the next she was gone in a swirling iridescent black mist.
Muttering an oath, Navarre swept Adrianna into his arms and carried her to the sofa where he sat down and cradled her against his chest. "Are you all right?"
Adrianna nodded.
"Does your head still hurt?"
She shook her head.
"Dammit, Adrianna! Say something."
"Is she the vampire who made you?"
"Yes."
"She's very beautiful."
"Yes. And very selfish. And cruel. And self-centered."
"She loves you."
"She doesn't know what love is."
Adrianna shrugged. "And she wants you."
He couldn't argue with that. Shaylyn had sought him out from time to time through the centuries, but after the last time, he'd thought himself free of her. He knew now that he had been wrong, that in Shaylyn's mind, at least, he would always be hers, subject to her beck and call.
"Adrianna, I want you to go away for a while. Take a vacation. Go see your parents."
"Because of her?"
Navarre nodded. "I'm afraid for you, afraid of what she might do."
Adrianna smiled wryly. "You mean a woman scorned, and all that?"
"Laugh if you want, but Shaylyn has always been very possessive of those she's made. She's angry with me now, and I don't want you to be caught in the middle."
"I'd like to say I'm not afraid, but I am."
"You'd be a fool if you weren't."
/>
"I may be afraid, but I'm not leaving."
"Annie…"
"No! I'm not going to run away and let her have you."
"Annie, in spite of what I said, I belong to her."
"What do you mean?"
"It's her blood in my veins, her lifeforce that made me what I am."
"That doesn't mean she owns you."
"No, but she's a very powerful vampire. No one knows how old she is, or if she can even be destroyed. Some say that she no longer has to rest during the day, that she's immune to the deadly effects of sunlight."
"Is that possible?"
"I don't know." Navarre frowned. It had taken him almost two thousand years to be able to endure the sun for short periods of time. Shaylyn had existed longer than any vampire he knew. It was possible that she no longer needed to seek shelter during the light of day, which made her all the more dangerous to him.
Adrianna glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected to see Shaylyn hovering nearby.
"She isn't here," Navarre said.
"How do you know?"
"Vampires can sense the presence of one of their kind."
Adrianna made a sound of disbelief. "If she's immune to the sun, maybe she's also able to conceal her presence."
Navarre frowned. He, too, had thought of that, and it worried him. The only edge he had was being able to perceive when she was near.
"She wouldn't hurt you, would she?"
"She can't hurt me," he replied, "at least not much."
"But she could destroy you."
Navarre nodded. There was no doubt of that, especially if she was able to move about when the sun was high in the sky. His only hope was to find a new place to rest until Shaylyn lost interest in him and left town.
"Navarre?"
"What?"
"Do you like being a vampire?"
"Does it matter?"
"Would you go back to being a mortal, if you could?"
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"What if there were a cure? Would you use it?"
"Adrianna, what are you talking about?"
"I found an old book up in the attic at the store. It was called The Handbook of the Undead. There was a recipe for a cure."
A cure! Navarre stared at Adrianna, wondering if such a thing were conceivable. In two thousand years, he had never considered the possibility of being mortal again. And even as he considered it, he knew it held no appeal. He had no wish to grow old and die, no wish to give up the wondrous powers he possessed, especially now, when those powers seemed to be expanding, when he was able to see the sunrise and walk in the morning light. Who could say? Perhaps in another hundred years, it would no longer be necessary for him to hide away during the long hours of the afternoon. Perhaps he'd even be able to overcome his need for blood and be able to partake of mortal food again, live a normal life…
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