“About time,” she muttered, noticing that the battery was dead. “He calls a lot of meetings, doesn’t he?”
“Lately, anyway.”
“Why didn’t he insist on my going this time?”
Taking the seat beside her, Alex slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Rhys had some urgent council business to take care of.”
“Oh?”
“Just be glad you weren’t there.”
Rylee shivered. She didn’t have to be psychic to know something terrible had happened at that meeting. She couldn’t help being curious, even though she didn’t really want to know. But whatever had transpired had been horrible, indeed. She could see it in Alex’s eyes.
She snuggled against him. They were together now and that was all that mattered.
For the next two weeks, there were no new bodies drained of blood. Rylee checked the news every morning and every night. True, there were deaths—but they were the normal kind—a car accident, a house fire, a fall from a trail in Yosemite, an explosion at a factory. But no bodies drained of blood.
“Do you think she’s left town?” Rylee asked Alex when she saw him that night.
“I sure as hell hope so.”
“Maybe I can go home now.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Not until we know for sure that she’s no longer a threat.”
“I really need to go check on my house,” she insisted. “Take my mail out of the box, empty my refrigerator. Water my plants.”
Alex grunted softly. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go for an hour or so. Grab your coat. It’s cold outside.”
Rylee paused inside the front door. It seemed like years had passed since she’d been here. A couple of magazines and weekly newspaper ads had been waiting in her mail box. A fine layer of dust covered the tables. Her plants were nearly dead. All the food in the refrigerator had gone bad.
Alex made himself at home on the sofa, thinking how right it seemed to sit there while Rylee bustled about the house, watering the plants, dusting the furniture, emptying the fridge.
“At least the food in the freezer is still good,” she called.
A few minutes later she emerged from the kitchen carrying a huge bowl of vanilla ice cream.
“Is that your dinner?” he asked with a wry grin.
“I guess so. Want a bite?”
“What do you think?”
“Have you tried eating anything since…you know?”
“No.” She frowned thoughtfully. “If you can drink wine, why can’t you eat ice cream?”
“I just can’t. Besides, I have no desire for it.”
“None at all?”
“Not even a little.”
“Oh, well,” she said, with an impish grin. “More for me.”
He watched her lick the spoon and felt a sudden desire to feel her tongue on his skin, her mouth on his. Leaning forward, he took the bowl and spoon from her hand and placed them on the coffee table, then licked a drop of vanilla from her lips.
“Sweet,” he murmured, and he wasn’t talking about ice cream.
Rylee looked at him, suddenly breathless as he slanted his mouth over hers. She moaned softly as she wrapped her arms around him, caught up, as always, in the magic of his kisses, the sense of belonging that swept over her. His hands skated up and down her spine, eliciting shivers of delight as he fell back on the sofa, drawing her down on top of him. She moaned with pleasure as his hands slipped under her sweater to caress her back.
“Rylee.” He murmured her name, his voice thick with need and desire.
Fear doused the fire burning through her. What if he lost control again? What if this time he couldn’t stop?
He took his mouth from hers. “Don’t be afraid, love.”
“I’m sorry.”
He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Not to worry. I fed as soon as I got up.”
She tried to feel relieved but couldn’t help experiencing a moment of pity for the poor soul he had preyed on.
“I didn’t hurt her,” he said quietly. “We should go.”
“Hang on a minute. I want to pack a few things.”
“Alright.”
Hurrying upstairs, Rylee pulled her old Samsonite from under the bed, then sorted through her closet and drawers, pulling out shirts and pants, socks and underwear. She added a pair of sneakers, then went into the bathroom for her hair brush and shampoo. She’d been using Costain’s and while his were undoubtedly the best money could buy, she liked her own better.
Suitcase in hand, she hurried downstairs and dropped it by the door. Alex waited while she walked through the house, making sure all the lights were off.
He picked up her bag and followed her outside. After she locked the door, Alex warded the house against intruders, the way Rhys had taught him.
Rylee shivered as a wave of preternatural power whispered through the air. She looked up at him with a sense of awe. No longer human, he possessed the same supernatural powers as Rhys, though perhaps not yet as strong. But they would only grow stronger with time, she thought, remembering what Alex had told her.
“Ready?” Luggage in one hand, he slipped his other arm around her waist.
Holding tight to her purse, Rylee closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, they were back in Costain’s apartment, and he was glaring at Alex.
“What the hell were you doing at Rylee’s?” Rhys asked sharply. “I was about to come after you.”
Alex dropped Rylee’s bag on the floor. “She needed a few things.”
Sensing the growing tension in the room, Rylee said, “I’m going to put this stuff away and take a bath. Good night.”
“Night, Rylee,” Alex said with a wink.
When they were alone, Rhys stared at Alex, his eyes narrowed. “Have you been eating ice cream?”
Alex burst out laughing, the first real laugh he’d had since being turned, and it felt damn good. For the first time, he thought maybe things could work out with Rylee. He had wanted her tonight and yet he’d been able to control his hunger and his desire. He felt strong, in control, no longer afraid of what he’d become.
He frowned when he felt Costain’s power moving over him. It lifted the hair on his arms. “What are you doing?”
“I guess you could say I’m assessing your progress.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Turning you might have been a mistake.”
A little frisson of unease jolted through Alex. “What? Why?”
“I’d forgotten that you drank Erik’s blood a while back. He was made by one of the ancients over three hundred years ago. You’ve been turned by me…”
Alex stared at his sire as a sudden feeling of dread engulfed him.
“Do you see why I’m having second thoughts?”
Alex nodded slowly. With the blood of two old ones running through him, he might one day be strong enough to challenge Rhys for control of the West Coast—and win.
“I can feel the power growing within you,” Rhys said, his eyes going red. “Even quicker than I expected.”
Hands clenched, Alex glared at his sire, felt his own eyes go red. “So, what the hell are you going to do about it? Destroy me the way you did Rupert?”
“Maybe. But not tonight,” Rhys said. And then grinned. “I just wanted to see your reaction. I’m a pretty good judge of character. I saved your life, and while you may hate me for it, you’re also grateful to still be alive. I don’t trust very many people, O’Donnell, but I trust you. Besides, Daisy would never forgive me if I hurt you.”
A tidal wave of relief washed through Alex, but before he could think of anything to say, Rhys was gone.
CHAPTER 28
The sun was climbing over the horizon when Sylvi arrived at Magdalena’s lair. The vampire insisted she come at sunrise each day, do whatever cleaning up needed to be done, and then spend the rest of the day standing guard. For such a powerful vampire, her mistress seemed overly concerned with her safety.
Sylvi came to an abrupt halt when she entered the ten-digit security code and stepped inside. Unable to believe her eyes, she stared at the carnage in front of her. The floor was littered with bodies. Men, women and children of various ages stared up at her through lifeless eyes, their faces frozen in a rictus of terror, throats stained crimson. Blood splattered the walls, the furniture, squished beneath her feet as she closed the door behind her.
Covering her nose with one hand, she picked her way across the floor to the room where Magdalena took her rest. The vampire lay on her back in a shiny black coffin, her hands, mouth, and clothing coated with dried blood.
Choking back the bile rising in her throat, Sylvi backed out of the room and out of the house.
Outside, she vomited the contents of her stomach onto the dirt, then climbed into her car and drove away. She needed to find a place to hide before sundown.
Rhys swore as someone pounded on the club’s front door. “What’ the hell?” he muttered. “Can’t you read?” The sign out front clearly said, Closed.
The pounding came again, louder and more insistent.
Swearing under his breath, he opened the door. “We open at ten.”
“I can’t wait that long. Please let me in.”
His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing as he caught the scent of blood and vampire. “Sylvi.” Rupert’s friend. What the hell was she doing here?
She glanced over her shoulder. “Please let me in.”
Taking a step back, he gestured her inside. She had a lot of nerve, coming here, he thought. And then he frowned, wondering what, if anything, Rupert had told her about him
She stood in the middle of the darkened room, shivering violently. Waist-length hair the color of moonlight fell over her slim shoulders. Her eyes were blue-green, her skin pale and unblemished save for a dark purple bruise on one cheek.
Going behind the bar, Rhys filled a shot glass with malt whiskey and handed it to her. “You look like you could use this.”
She didn’t argue, just gulped it down.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Magdalena. She’s gone completely mad. Her lair is filled with bodies. There’s blood everywhere.”
“So you do know where she is,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Where’s her lair?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“She’ll kill me.”
“Yeah? What makes you think I won’t?”
“Hide me, please.”
“Only if you tell me where she rests.”
“No.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I can’t. I swore an oath to protect her. I cannot break my word.”
Rhys gazed deeply into her eyes. If she wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, there were other ways of finding out, he thought. But for the first time since becoming a vampire, he couldn’t penetrate another’s mind. What the hell? The harder he tried, the more she resisted.
Sylvi smiled faintly.
Frustrated, he poured himself a drink and refilled the girl’s glass. “Who are you?” he asked. “What are you?”
“Nobody.” She perched on the nearest bar stool.
“You obviously know about vampires. Why can’t I read your mind?”
“I don’t know. Magdalena couldn’t, either.”
“You know she’ll be able to track you when she wakes up.”
“There’s no blood bond between us. She doesn’t drink from me.”
“Why not?” he asked, intrigued. Vampires always drank from their human companions. Besides forming a bond, it was a means of exerting control.
“She took one taste and spit it out. She said I tasted bad.”
Rhys stared at her in disbelief. Blood was blood, although some was sweeter and more satisfying than others.
“Go ahead,” Sylvi invited, holding out her left arm. “See for yourself.”
Taking hold of her wrist, he bit her lightly. He swallowed twice and then he gagged. “What the hell!” He studied her closely for a moment, myriad possibilities running through his mind. And then he swore softly. “You’re an Elf.” In all the centuries he’d lived, she was the first he’d met. They were a strange breed, each possessing different powers and abilities.
Sylvi nodded, a faint smile twitching her lips.
“What were you doing with Magdalena?”
“She found me when I was a child and saved my life. I didn’t know what she was at the time.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“I owed her a life-debt. I swore an oath to stay with her and protect her, but after what I saw today…” She shivered violently. “I couldn’t stay any longer.”
“How did you find me?”
“A vampire told me about this place.”
“A vampire by the name of Rupert?”
Her eyes widened. “You know him?”
“I knew him.”
Sylvi gaped at Rhys. “He’s…?”
“Yeah. There’s a room upstairs. You can stay there today, if you like.”
“Thank you. I’ll be gone by nightfall.”
He studied her a long moment, debating whether to let her go. He might not be able to read her mind, but he could ward the club so she couldn’t leave. On the other hand, what was the point? Magdalena was probably long gone. “Where will you go?”
“As far away from Los Angeles as I can get.”
“Well, good luck to you.”
“And to you, Mr. Costain.”
Rhys scrubbed his hand over his jaw as he watched her climb the narrow staircase to the second floor. So, Rupert had been telling the truth when he’d said he didn’t know Magdalena’s whereabouts, he thought bitterly, but he’d let his rage and his frustration get the best of him and in so doing, he’d destroyed an innocent man.
Closing his eyes, he opened the blood-link that bound him to Megan, then realized it was afternoon in Scotland and she would be at rest.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sent her a text. Come home, love. I need you.
Megan was in Edinburgh when she received her husband’s text. She had sensed something was wrong for the last two days. After bidding her parents a hasty goodbye and arranging for them to bring her luggage home, she transported herself to the house she shared with Rhys.
She had barely set foot in the house when he emerged from the bedroom clad in nothing but a pair of black briefs.
Before she could ask what was wrong, he gathered her into his arms. For a long moment, he simply held her close. “I’m never letting you go away without me again,” he murmured against the side of her neck. “It’s been hell without you.”
“I would have come home sooner,” she said, stroking his back. “All you had to do was ask.”
“I knew you were having a good time.”
“I missed you, too.” Taking his hand in hers, she said, “Come to bed with me, and I’ll show you how much.”
A wicked grin played over his lips as he followed her into their room. “One of us is overdressed,” he murmured, and the next thing she knew, her clothes lay in a pile on the floor.
His gaze moved over her like a living flame as he took her hand and tugged her toward the bed. They fell on the mattress in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Too long,” he murmured, as his hands and lips caressed her. “Too long.”
Megan writhed beneath him, desperate to touch him and taste him. She moaned low in her throat as he pleasured her, cried out with need, her arms holding him close as he carried her over the edge.
Much later, sated and complete, she snuggled against him, her head nestled on his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me about it now?”
“No.” His hand idly stroked her thigh. “Right now I don’t want to think about anything but you.”
Rylee worried her lower lip as she glanced at the time. Alex had gone hunting over an hour ago. Thoughts of Magdalena flitted through her mind. He had never been gone th
is long before. Had the vampire found him?
She paced the floor, too nervous to sit still, too upset to eat. Where was he?
And where was Rhys?
Magdalena stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, nose wrinkled against the stink of the bodies that littered the floor. Where was that wretched girl and why hadn’t she disposed of this mess?
She grimaced at the dried blood on her bodice. Why hadn’t Sylvi undressed her while she rested? The stupid girl would never get the stains out now, she thought, and then paused with the sudden realization that Sylvi had probably left for good. Well, good riddance.
Scowling, she made her way into the bathroom, stepped out of her dress and tossed it on the floor. After a lengthy shower, she pulled on a black sweater and a pair of slacks. “Stupid, ungrateful chit,” she muttered as she threw her belongings into a large suitcase and stalked out of the house.
A wave of her hand set the place on fire.
Still muttering obscenities under breath, she went in search of prey.
And a new lair.
Alex had just released his prey from his thrall when he smelled smoke. He followed the scent to an old, single-story house located in the hills above Hollywood. When he arrived, there was little remaining but ashes and the faint smell of death.
And vampire.
He swore under his breath. Magdalena had been this close and they hadn’t been able to find her.
Now, perhaps they never would.
CHAPTER 29
Rylee breathed a sigh of relief when Alex materialized in the room. “Where have you been?”
“I hunted a little farther afield than usual,” he said, taking her in his arms. “I was on my way back when I smelled smoke and decided to go and see what it was.”
“Well, what was it?”
“Magdalena’s lair.”
Rylee stared at him. “She’s dead?”
“No, more’s the pity. She wasn’t there. I followed her scent as far as I could, but then it vanished. There’s no telling where she’s gone.”
Rylee’s shoulders slumped as she muttered, “At this rate, I’ll be staying in Costain’s penthouse forever.”
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