Forever Kisses Volume 1

by Angela Knight

  Later he’d helped her get a scholarship to the local community college, where she’d worked her ass off to earn that nursing degree. She’d already had a job offer and she fully intended to pay him back.

  She was just lifting the coffee pot when the compulsion hit. Camille put down the pot, pulled out her cell, and dialed.

  In the back of her head, a small voice was screaming.

  When the man answered the phone, she identified herself and said, “He’s here.”

  “Good. Forget you spoke to me.”

  Camille hung up. For a moment, she paused, unable to remember what she’d come into the kitchen to do.

  Why was she just standing here? She had to get the kids to school. “Jada! Kat! Antwon, let’s go! You don’t want to be late.”

  * * *

  Hirsch tucked away his cell phone into his jacket with a smile of satisfaction. When he’d found the letter from Camille Robbins on McKinnon’s desk months before, he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. He’d just followed a hunch and flown to South Carolina, where to his delighted surprise, he found the woman and her children living in a house McKinnon owned. He’d promptly put her under a compulsion to keep him informed any time the American came to visit. That bit of foresight had just paid off handsomely.

  Now he needed to have a word with Ridgemont. When he went after McKinnon this time, he intended to have reinforcements.

  * * *

  “I think I’ve got an idea about how to kill Ridgemont, but it’s going to be tricky,” Cade told Val as they unpacked their bags in the main bedroom. “I need to get to work on it if I’m going to pull it off before he finds us.”

  “What about just giving him both barrels with a shotgun? You said that would work.”

  “On an ordinary vampire, yes.” Cade frowned as he went into the bathroom to toss dirty clothes into a hamper. “But with Ridgemont, I’d have to get close enough to use it, and he’d know I was there. I need to be outside his psychic range, but inside the range of my weapon. Which limits my options considerably, because Ridgemont’s got a hell of a range. About the only thing that would do the trick is a Stinger missile.”

  Val stopped in her tracks to gape at him. “Are you serious?” But she could tell by his grim expression he was. “Where the hell do you plan to get one of those?”

  Cade shrugged. “Planted a compulsion in this Army general I met a couple of years ago. He’ll give me anything I want, up to and including a Stinger.” Frowning, he rubbed the muscles at the base of his neck. “Trouble is, the Army would find out about it and hang him out to dry, so I’ve hesitated to use him. Unfortunately, I’m backed into a corner now.”

  She put her laptop case on the bureau and turned to face him. “You can’t ruin the man’s career, Cade.”

  “I’ll come up with a way to protect him. I just need to give him a call and figure out what to do.”

  Folding her arms, she settled a shoulder against one wall. “You know, if you Changed me, none of that would be necessary.”

  Cade gave her a cool stare. “Only by putting you at risk of a lot worse. Nobody’s career is worth your life.”

  Val blinked and straightened in surprise at the blunt refusal. Before she could wonder whether he actually meant it, he said, “I’m headed across the hall to my home office -- I want to check with some of my suppliers, and I have to use my desktop to do it. If you need anything, help yourself. Everything I have is yours.”

  “Okaaay.” As he stepped out and closed the door behind him, she turned to take in the room.

  A parquet floor in geometric patterns gleamed underfoot, softened here and there by colorful rugs. The furniture was massive and dark, with a huge, mirrored bureau, an armoire, and a bed only a little smaller than a tennis court. Its thick burgundy brocade duvet matched a pair of armchairs in a sitting nook at the other end of the enormous room.

  The whole effect would have been severe if it hadn’t been for the two huge stained-glass windows that took up most of one wall with gorgeous landscapes of waterfalls and forests. In each image, wolves prowled, wild and dark. Considering the house had more stained glass than most churches, the expense must have been staggering.

  But then, given Cade’s vulnerability to sunlight, all those windows were probably worth it. The rich colors would cut out most of the harmful rays and allow him to enjoy the light without worry.

  And they both could use a sanctuary right about now. Val needed rest and a clear head if she wanted to make sense of this.

  She’d unpack, then grab a shower and hit the bed. Maybe this situation would seem less unsolvable after she got some sleep…

  Annnd the air filled with the scent of peppermint.

  Val sighed. Suspecting she’d never be able to eat another candy cane as long as she lived, she gave Abigail a wary glance. “If you want to bitch at me about becoming a vampire, don’t. I’m willing. Cade is the one you need to talk to.”

  The ghost twisted her translucent hands together. “I’m not here to harangue you. I just… I’m worried about Cade.”

  Well, that was understandable. For something to do with her own hands, she walked over to the suitcases piled on the bed and snapped the locks open on one of them. “I’m worried too.”

  Val jerked. Abigail’s face was inches from hers as the ghost floated above the bed, gazing closely into her eyes. “I think you are. And I need your help, because I’m afraid Cade is going to get himself killed.”

  Swallowing, Val pulled a shirt out of the suitcase and turned to hang it up in the closet. The ghost might be in a mellow mood, but she felt spooked anyway. “If it’s any comfort, the Stinger idea does sound as though it would work.”

  “Yes, it does. But if it fails, Ridgemont will kill him. Unless Cade Changes you to get the strength he needs to fight.”

  “But he refuses to do that.” She opened the closet door and reached in to get a hanger.

  “And have you wondered why? It’s more than his fear of getting you killed, though that’s certainly a factor.”

  Frowning, Val slid the shirt onto the hanger. “A pretty damn big factor, judging from the look in his eyes a few minutes ago.”

  “Of course. He’s love with you.”

  The ghost’s matter-of-fact confirmation of her suspicions took Val’s breath away. She turned to stare at Abigail in suspended astonishment.

  No. The little ghost was either wrong or trying to play her. Or something.

  “But that’s not his only concern,” Abigail went on, as if the world hadn’t just tilted on its axis. “Have you asked yourself what would happen if Cade makes you a vampire and you both succeed in killing Ridgemont?”

  “You mean other than me dancing on the bastard’s grave?”

  “I’ll join you. We’ll have a hoedown. But what comes next?”

  Val shrugged and reached into the closet to pull out a handful of hangers. “We all live happily ever after, I guess.” Could Cade be in love with her? God, what a seductive thought…

  “Which, considering you’d both be vampires, could be a very long time. Would you stay with Cade?”

  “Stay?” On her way back to the bed with the hangers, Val eyed the ghost, frowning.

  “As his lover. Or even his wife. The two of you, united for centuries.”

  Cade. Hers. With no fear of Ridgemont or Hirsch. Hers to touch and taste. Decades of his wickedly skillful hands and mouth and cock. The idea was darkly tempting. “I… don’t know. He hasn’t asked me to stay.” She lifted her chin. “And I’m not in love with him.” She couldn’t be.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Val looked away. “No.”

  Abigail smiled. “The point is, Cade believes you wouldn’t even consider staying. He thinks you would reject him.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because Caroline Johnson did.”

  “Who the hell is Caroline Johnson?”

  “The only woman, other than you, he ever loved.”

  Val waited in suspende
d fascination, but instead of continuing in that vein, the ghost floated to the stained-glass window as if she could see beyond the glowing colors. Maybe she could.

  “The land this house sits on was once our family farm, did you know that? That’s why Cade bought it begin with.”

  “This is where you owned the slaves?” She frowned. It was still hard to believe he’d have anything to do with a system so evil.

  Abigail glowered at her. “Did he tell you how much he regrets it?”

  “Yeah, I got the impression it haunts him.”

  “Of course it haunts him. That cursed war destroyed our family. There was nothing glorious about it, nothing heroic, no matter what lies those now like to tell themselves.” Abigail turned, staring into the distance. “That’s why he left home after my death -- he wanted to forget. He was only sixteen when he enlisted, nineteen when the war was over, but those three years left decades’ worth of scars.” She went silent for a long moment. “He believes he should have been able to save our father and brother, though I don’t know how.” The ghost smiled a slight, bitter smile. “Cade always did have a talent for guilt. Pa taught him responsibility a little too well.”

  “There was so much tragedy in his life…” Something in Val pulled into an aching knot at the image of McKinnon carrying such a burden at such a young age. A thought occurred to her. “What did he do after you died? He couldn’t have been a Ranger the whole time. They disbanded after the war until 1874.”

  “He drifted for a decade, working as a field hand or laying track for the railroad. He was in Texas when he learned the Rangers were recruiting, so he volunteered.”

  “Which brings up something I wondered about. What happened to you? How did you end up a ghost? I thought most ghosts were murder victims who haunted the place they were killed.

  “Not all of us.” Abigail turned, light from the window streaming through her translucent body. “After I… died, I remained. Almost everyone does, at least a day or two. And I saw this.”

  Suddenly her eyes seized Val’s like a trap snapping closed. Everything spun, and…

  …Val was looking down at Cade as if she floated just over his head. But it was a Cade who was too young, too thin, bony wrists protruding from the too-short sleeves of a ragged gray uniform as he knelt on a raw mound of dirt. A wooden cross made from two pieces of board stood at the head of the mound. It was, Val realized, Abigail’s grave.

  He wasn’t crying -- his face was too desolate for that, dark eyes blasted and empty like the windows of a house that had been pounded by artillery.

  Suddenly she remembered a laughing young boy’s face, dark eyes dancing with merriment, long fingers digging into her ribs while she shrieked, “Cade! Cade, stop!”

  Abigail’s memory. Val felt her heart ache -- and then freeze

  Just above the boy Cade’s head, something roiled -- a blackness, half-seen, radiating a sense of horror so intense the hair rose on the back of her neck.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Cade’s future.” Abigail’s ghostly voice sounded grim in her mind.

  “Evil,” Val whispered. “Suffering.”

  “I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it waited for him. And I knew it would be worse than everything else he’d endured.”

  Suddenly a bright gold light spilled over Abigail’s grave, but Cade didn’t look up. It was as though he didn’t see it. Yet Val sensed… something coming from that light. An emotion -- a patience, a kindness so infinite it brought tears to her eyes.

  The presence spoke to Abigail, its voice a gentle thunder imbued with a texture she could feel on her skin, a taste that filled her mouth, exquisite and alien and indescribable. But though she could feel the sound reverberating in her chest, she couldn’t understand the words.

  Abigail could. “I can’t just go!” the ghost’s voice protested. “I can’t leave him like this! Can’t I help him?”

  The being replied in a long, rolling rumble. It was frustrating, Val thought, like hearing half of a phone conversation. Yet she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what the golden presence was saying.

  “But I could help him?”

  Now the rumble sounded like affirmation and warning, all at once.

  “I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I have to. I can’t let it have him.”

  WRENCH!

  Val sat on Cade’s bed, her head swimming as she stared at the ghost floating before the stained-glass window. She swallowed. “Was that… God?”

  Abigail shrugged. “I don’t really know, but I don’t think so. I believe it was an angel.”

  “You gave up your chance to go with him to stay with Cade?”

  The ghost smiled. “I couldn’t do anything else. Could you, after seeing what waited for him?”

  “No.” Val frowned, reassessing her mental image of Abigail. She’d thought the ghost a cold little bitch, but now she realized how much love and loyalty lay beneath that ruthless willingness to do anything for her brother. “How did he react to having you suddenly appear?”

  “Oh, he didn’t know I was there until Ridgemont Changed him. As a mortal, he didn’t have your power. Another eighteen years would pass before he saw me.”

  “You followed him for eighteen years without ever talking to him at all?”

  “Valerie, I’m dead. It’s not as if I had anything better to do.”

  “What happened then?” Suddenly she wanted to know more, had to know more.

  “As I said, he wandered.” Images flashed through her mind: Cade, slumped in the saddle of a tired horse, a five-o’-clock shadow darkening his jaw as he rode beside a herd of weary cattle. Cade, shirtless in the sun, swinging a pick. He appeared healthier than the half-starved boy who’d come home from the war, a fit, muscular man. Cade driving a mule team, his eyes patient and bored.

  SHIFT. “When he joined the Rangers, it gave him a sense of purpose again, the feeling he was doing something to help those who needed it.” Looking like the cowboy hero of Valerie’s dreams, he rode hard on a galloping horse, his eyes narrow and hot with determination. A badge glinted on his broad chest.

  SHIFT. Another man with a badge stood at Cade’s side as they fired their guns at three men running from a bank. Two of the bandits went down, but the third snapped off a shot, hitting the other Ranger. Cade dropped the killer with a bullet between the eyes, then dropped to his knees beside his fallen comrade.

  “Take care of her, McKinnon,” the dying ranger gasped, “Don’t let my Caroline starve.”

  SHIFT. Cade stood with both arms wrapped around a woman as she sobbed, an expression of pity on his face -- pity, and an uncomfortable awareness mixed with guilt.

  SHIFT. Sitting at her kitchen table, he watched her laugh at something he’d said. Masculine hunger glowed in his dark eyes.

  SHIFT. Cade kissed Caroline, drinking in her mouth. Val felt a dark, surprising stab of jealousy she knew was all her own.

  “I knew it wasn’t going to work,” the ghost said. “She wasn’t like you. There was a weakness in her that was no match for what waited for him. And I was right.”

  SHIFT. Cade and Caroline stood on the porch, his mouth moving over hers with gentle, wooing skill.

  Suddenly a man shouted something, and Cade’s head snapped up.

  The other man strode toward him, dirty, beefy face twisted with rage as he went for his gun. Cade’s hand blurred toward the Colt on his hip. He was just a fraction faster. Smoke billowed from his pistol, and the man went down, his own weapon firing wild.

  Caroline stared at the fallen gunman, her eyes widening with horror. Cade glanced toward her and froze as he read the revulsion in her gaze.

  “But the guy was going to kill him!” Val said, outraged. “He was just defending himself!”

  “Yes, and she’d already lost one husband. She couldn’t stand to lose another, particularly when she’d come so close to getting shot herself. She broke it off with him that night.”

  SHIFT. Cade entered a woo
den building marked with a sign that said Hotel Dorchester to climb a set of narrow stairs.

  As she watched him climb, Val sensed something waiting for him at the head of the stairs. Something dark. Something evil.

  “Oh, God,” Val whispered. “Ridgemont.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Val’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want to see any more, but she held her tongue. If he’d had to endure it, she had to see it.

  “Cade! Stop!” Abigail cried in the vision, materializing directly in his path, hands raised as if to ward him off. “Please, stop! Please!”

  He broke step, frowning. For a moment Val thought he’d actually heard her until a feminine whimper of pain sounded. It had been that sound that brought his head up.

  Cade turned as if trying to determine the origin of that tiny, hopeless noise. A deep male voice growled something menacing from behind the door to his left. He turned, eyes narrowing, broad shoulders tensing.

  Oh, God, Val thought. It’s a woman, and he’s going to try to go to the rescue. And Ridgemont’s on the other side of that door.

  Another muffled sound, unmistakably a scream, cut off in the middle by a hard slap.

  Cade drew his gun and rammed his booted foot into the door. It flew open with a thunderous bang. He strode into the room, gun at the ready. “Hands up!”

  Ridgemont looked up as he leaned over his victim. He was fully dressed, while she was naked as she lay on her back, wrists and ankles bound. Her bare breasts were smeared with blood from a pair of long cuts just above one nipple. More cuts striped her belly, her thighs. Her desperate gaze met Cade’s over her gag, wide with terror, silently begging for help.

  Cade flicked a shocked glance at her brutalized body, then turned to level his gun at Ridgemont with a snarl. “What the hell is going on here?”

  The vampire wiped a smear of red from the corner of his mouth. “Get out.”