Twilight Dreams

by Amanda Ashley

  The stillness of the house, combined with his unblinking gaze, unnerved her. She was far from home, alone in a strange place with a man she scarcely knew. He could be some kind of lunatic, a serial killer, a sexual predator. She told herself she was letting her imagination get the best of her.

  “A lunatic? Really?” he remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

  Her eyes widened with the realization that he had read her mind.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Holly.”

  “I’d like to believe that!”

  “Believe it.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. “There’s something else I need you to believe.”

  “What’s that, I’m afraid to ask?”

  “You remember the other night, when you asked me if I believed in vampires?”

  “Yes, why?” She plucked at the hem of her sweater, trying to ignore the cold knot of fear growing in her belly.

  “You asked why anyone would want to be one.”

  “Didn’t we already have this discussion?”

  He heard the tremor in her voice, saw the tension in the stiffness of her shoulders. She was afraid, but had nothing concrete to focus her fear on. That was about to change.

  “Vampires are real, Holly.”

  She stared at him. “If you’re making a joke, it isn’t funny.”

  “Am I laughing?”

  “So you’re telling me you believe in vampires?”

  “Actually, I’m telling you that I am a vampire.”

  “I’ve had enough of this,” she said, rising. “Take me home. I don’t know who you think you are, or where we are, but I insist you take me home. Now!”

  Micah shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You brought me here.”

  “I told you, it isn’t safe for you to go home right now.”

  She scrubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if she had a chill. “I have a feeling it isn’t safe for me here, either.”

  “You’re not in any danger from me, or from anyone here. Believe that if you believe nothing else.”

  But Holly wasn’t listening. Turning on her heel, she ran for the front door and out into the night, her only thought to get away from him. She didn’t believe in vampires, but she believed in maniacs. She ran as if her life depended on it, which she was very much afraid it did.

  She ran down the hill as fast as her legs would carry her, ran until the spooky old house was far behind her and she was gasping for breath. Afraid to stop, she pressed her hand to her side and kept going.

  After what seemed like forever, she saw dark shapes ahead. Shapes that turned into houses. She hurried toward the closest one. The windows were dark, but she pounded on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello? Please, somebody, I need help!”

  Relief flooded through her when an inside light came on.

  Relief that quickly turned to defeat when Micah opened the door.

  He stared at her, one brow arched. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Away from you!”

  “There’s nowhere for you to go, sunshine. Saintcrow and his wife would like to meet you.”

  Holly shook her head vigorously. “Well, I don’t want to meet them.” For all she knew, his friends were as crazy as he was. With a bravado she was far from feeling, she folded her arms across her chest. “If you’re a vampire, prove it.”

  “I brought you here from L.A. What other proof do you need?”

  “You could have drugged me and brought me here while I was unconscious.” That certainly made more sense than anything else.

  “You don’t believe that,” he muttered. “Okay, how’s this?” he asked, and he dissolved into a dark, silvery mist, floating just above her head.

  Holly uttered a word that would have scandalized her father and made her mother blush.

  Laughing, Micah materialized in front of her. “Convinced?”

  “Let me see your fangs.”

  “Only if I can bite you.” He grinned inwardly. Little did she know, he had already done that.

  “No!” She backed away from him, her eyes wide and scared, her heart pounding a wild tattoo.

  Damn. He could hear the blood flowing through her veins, smell it just beneath the surface of her skin. “It won’t hurt,” he said, his voice thick. “In fact, you’ll like it.”

  Cupping her hands around either side of her throat, she shook her head.

  “Maybe some other time.” Micah pried one hand from her neck and interlocked his fingers with hers. “Come on, we need to go. Saintcrow and Kadie are waiting.”

  Before she could protest, Holly found herself standing in front of a large fireplace in a room that looked like the interior of an old-world castle. A tapestry, its colors faded by time, adorned one of the walls. An ornate bookcase took up space on another. A suit of armor stood in one corner; a pair of crossed swords hung over the fireplace. The armor and swords looked out of place in the same room as the Jonathan Adler sofa, love seat, and armchair arranged in front of the hearth. The sofa was flanked by a pair of exquisitely carved end tables.

  The furnishings received only a cursory glance. It was the couple on the sofa that held Holly’s attention. The man was incredibly handsome, with inky-black hair and deep black eyes. A thin white scar ran from the outer corner of his left eye, down his cheek, to where it disappeared under his shirt collar. Power radiated from him like heat from a forest fire.

  She glanced from Saintcrow to Micah and knew they were the same. Both vampires. Their combined power filled the room and raised the hairs along her arms. She remembered meeting Micah for the first time and thinking he was like no other man she had ever met. Now she knew why.

  The woman had lovely dark, wavy brown hair and golden-brown eyes. She possessed the same aura of preternatural power as the men.

  Vampire.

  Rising, the woman hugged Micah, then smiled at Holly. “I’m Kadie,” she said. “Welcome to our home.”

  Holly nodded, unable to speak past the lump of fear clogging her throat. She was leery of the woman, but the man terrified her. He was a killer. A predator. She knew it as surely as she knew she was prey.

  Micah squeezed Holly’s hand. “No need to be afraid of Saintcrow. He won’t bite you.”

  “Unless you ask me to,” Saintcrow remarked, flashing a hint of fang.

  “Rylan!” Kadie glared at her husband. “Behave yourself.”

  Grinning, he reached up and squeezed her hand. “Yes, dear.”

  With a shake of her head, Kadie resumed her place on the sofa. “Please don’t be afraid of us, Holly. We mean you no harm. Sit down, won’t you?”

  Holly looked up at Micah, a silent plea in her eyes. She was wary of him, but far more afraid of Saintcrow.

  Micah grinned. So, he was the lesser of two evils. “I think I’ll take Holly back to Blair House,” he said. “This is a lot for her to process.”

  “Of course, she must have a lot of questions,” Kadie said with an understanding smile. “Holly, you can trust Micah. He’s a good man. He won’t hurt you.” She sent a warning glance at Saintcrow. “And neither will we.”

  “Maybe we’ll see the two of you tomorrow night,” Micah said.

  “Just a minute.” In a move too quick for human eyes to follow, Saintcrow stood in front of Holly. Her cell phone appeared in his hand as if by magic.

  “What are you doing?” she exclaimed. “Give me that!”

  “I’ll just hang on to it while you’re here.”

  Indignant, Holly stared at Micah. He shrugged, then wrapped his arm around her waist.

  Moments later, they were back in the living room at Blair House.

  Releasing his hold on Holly, Micah went to stand near the fireplace, putting some distance between them. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.” She curled up in a corner of the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, arms tightly folded across her chest. “I can’t believe the nerve
of that . . . that vampire! What gives him the right to take my phone?”

  “It’s his town, Holly. He makes the rules. Maybe he was afraid you’d call for help.”

  “Humph! I already tried. No bars. Was that his doing?”

  Micah shrugged. “Perhaps.” He wasn’t surprised by her confession. Had he been in her shoes, he would have called for help as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Back when Saintcrow and the vampires had lived here, Saintcrow hadn’t allowed any of the vamps or humans to have phones or computers or anything that would put them in touch with the outside world. In those days, when vampires who had grown tired of dodging the hunters came seeking refuge in Morgan Creek, they had become prisoners, in their own way, as much as the humans they fed on.

  “So, do you have questions?” he asked.

  “Thousands,” Holly muttered irritably.

  “Ask away.”

  “Is it true—all the things the books and movies say? You drink . . . blood? And don’t age? And you can’t go out in the sun? Or have children?”

  He nodded. “And a wooden stake in my heart will kill me, in case you were wondering.”

  “And you can read my mind.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you sleep in a . . . ?” She couldn’t say the word. It was just too gross to even think about.

  “No, I don’t sleep in a coffin. Just a bed.”

  Her relief was almost palpable.

  Suddenly filled with restless energy, Micah paced the floor in front of the hearth.

  Holly watched him a moment. How had she dated him, kissed him, and never realized what he was? It seemed obvious now. The way he moved, as if he weren’t tethered to the earth the way she was, the ever-present hunger lurking in his eyes. She had foolishly thought it was desire; she knew now it was a yearning for blood. Her blood.

  Suddenly uncomfortable at the silence between them, she blurted, “Kadie and Saintcrow seem . . . happy.”

  “No reason why they shouldn’t be. They’re very much in love.”

  Vampires in love? That was a whole new concept. What kind of life did they have? What was the point of living forever if you couldn’t have a family? How did they fill their nights when they had no purpose in life other than to feed? “Have you ever been in love?”

  Micah snorted. “You just learned vampires are real and you’re asking about my love life?”

  “Have you? Been in love?”

  “Just once,” he said quietly. He paused in front of the hearth, one hand braced against the mantel. “Her name was Shirley.” The memory of losing her knifed through him again, as fresh as if it had just happened. “She passed away a year ago.”

  “Did you . . . ?”

  Micah didn’t have to read her mind to know what she was asking. “Yes, I drank from her. And no, I didn’t kill her.” He spoke sharply, aggravated that she would even think such a thing. “What about you?” he asked, turning the tables on her. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “Not really.” Her gaze slid away from his. She had been falling in love with him, Holly thought. Thank goodness she had learned the truth before it was too late. Still, he seemed nice enough. For a vampire. But she didn’t trust him. And she still wanted to go home.

  Vampire . . . She gave herself a mental shake. In spite of all he had told her, all she had seen with her own eyes, it just didn’t seem possible such creatures actually existed.

  “Creatures? Really?”

  She blushed from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. She had to remember he could read her thoughts. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “As long as necessary.”

  “Are you going to . . .” She lifted one hand to her throat. “Bite me?”

  “I already did, sunshine. I already did.”

  And with that bit of disturbing news, he vanished from her sight.

  * * *

  Micah stood in the shadows outside the house. His annoyance at Holly for thinking he had killed Shirley, combined with his resentment at Shirley for not letting him bring her across, filled him with impotent anger. And that anger, like so many strong emotions, sparked his hunger. He envied Saintcrow. The man was a rock, able to control his hunger and his emotions, to come and go as he pleased day or night, to spend eternity with the woman he loved. Dammit, it wasn’t fair!

  A thought took him to the nearest town. He prowled the night, searching for prey, but it was Holly who dominated his thoughts. The fact that he was drawn to her only made matters worse. He didn’t want to care for her. He had vowed if he fell in love again it would be with a vampire, someone who would understand him, someone to share the next couple of hundred years with, but he was afraid it was too late for that. Like it or not, he couldn’t get Holly Parrish out of his mind. He wanted her, for a lifetime or an eternity, it didn’t matter.

  He wanted her.

  And he would have her.

  One way or another.

  * * *

  He had bitten her. The thought made Holly sick to her stomach, and she thrust it aside. She tried to push all thoughts of Micah from her mind, as well, but it was impossible. Why, of all the men in the world, did Micah have to be a vampire? Sure, she hardly knew him, but she had been attracted to him from the night they’d met. She had been so certain that he was different from other men. Well, she had been dead right about that, she thought dryly. She just hadn’t known how different!

  Tomorrow, when he was sleeping in his coffin—no, his bed, she amended—she was leaving this place. There had to be a road nearby. Sooner or later, roads led to freeways, and freeways led to towns. She would hitchhike if she had to. Maybe she would get lucky and a nice, fatherly cop would pick her up and make sure she got safely home.

  She wondered where Micah had gone, then decided she didn’t want to know. There were times when ignorance was bliss, and she was certain this was one of those times.

  Moving to the window, she stared into the darkness. What was it like, to drink blood to survive? She couldn’t even begin to imagine it. It was one thing to lick your own blood from a paper cut, another entirely to drink it—drink it!—from a stranger. How much had he taken? A tablespoon? A cup? A pint? She shuddered. More?

  She lifted a hand to her neck. When had he bitten her? And why couldn’t she remember? It seemed impossible that she could forget something so horrendous.

  She added that to the list of things she didn’t want to think about, afraid she might go a little crazy if she let herself dwell on it.

  What was it like for Micah from day to day—or rather, night to night? Did he miss the warmth of the sun on his face? Vampires were supposed to live for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. What did they do for excitement when they had seen everything, done everything? Did they ever get tired of existing on a warm, liquid diet?

  She frowned. Micah had eaten lobster and rice when they went out to dinner together. How was that possible?

  Had he wanted to be a vampire? Had it happened the way it did in movies? Vamp drinks from human. Human drinks from vamp, and voila! A new vampire is created.

  She pressed a hand to her forehead. Just thinking about it gave her a headache.

  Stretching out on the sofa, she tried to force all thoughts of vampires from her mind, but, of course, that was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she envisioned Micah bending over some poor, unfortunate soul, or worse, sinking his fangs into her own throat.

  She tossed and turned for hours until, at last, she tumbled into a restless sleep.

  * * *

  The sun shining through the front window roused Holly. Remembering her decision to leave here while Micah slept, Holly bolted upright. Rising, she straightened her clothes as best she could, grabbed an apple from the ice chest in the kitchen, and ran out of the house.

  Walking briskly, she left the house on the hill behind. Last night, it had seemed as if the other houses were miles away, but as she neared the residences now, she realized t
hey were much closer than she’d thought.

  Micah had told her Morgan Creek was a ghost town. It certainly felt that way, even though the homes she passed looked well-tended.

  More buildings loomed ahead. Drawing closer, she saw a grocery store, a library, a restaurant. All closed up tight.

  Farther down the street, she noticed a movie theater and a gas station. What had happened to the people who lived here? Had Micah and Saintcrow killed them all and taken over the town? Maybe there really were ghosts here. That would explain the sudden chill that swept over her as she hurried down the deserted street.

  Her steps quickened when she saw the bridge up ahead and the road beyond. With any luck at all, she would find a ride into the nearest town and be home by tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  Grumbling under his breath, Saintcrow rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, a hooded jacket, and sunglasses, and left the house. A thought took him into the town proper. Eyes narrowed against the light and heat of the sun, he spotted Micah’s woman running toward the far end of the bridge, frantically waving her arms in hopes of flagging down a passing car.

  He didn’t waste time trying to reason with her—simply wrapped his arms around her and willed the two of them into Blair House.

  As soon as he released her, she ran for the front door, a cry of dismay erupting from her throat when the door refused to open. Like a doe trapped by a mountain lion, she whirled around to stare at him, her heart pounding like a trip hammer, her eyes wide with fright.

  “Where the hell did you think you were going?” Saintcrow removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his jacket pocket.

  “Home.”

  “Didn’t Ravenwood tell you that was a bad idea?”

  She nodded. She was visibly trembling now, her face pale.

  Saintcrow blew out a breath, annoyed by her fear. Not that he could blame her. He was a very old vampire. Even humans who didn’t recognize him for what he was sensed his preternatural power and strength. “Relax,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Then let me go.”

  “Lady, you can’t be that dumb. I know Micah told you about Braga. She’s a dangerous, vengeful creature who wouldn’t think twice about draining you dry and tossing your corpse into a ditch. If you go back home and she gets your scent, you’re as good as dead.”