In her sleep, she murmured his name.
It was almost his undoing. He brushed a kiss across her cheek, and then fled the house before he broke the vow he had just made.
Chapter 7
Ronan sat in the dark, staring at the flames dancing in the den’s fireplace. Shannah slept on the sofa beside him, her head pillowed on his lap. He’d found himself thinking about his fledgling more and more often ever since his darling wife had asked about him. Ronan blew out a sigh. He should have killed the man. Would have done so had it not been for Shannah. She hadn’t said anything to stop him, but he had felt her disapproval. It was the one thing he couldn’t abide. So, he had given the hunter a choice, never really expecting Hewitt to ask to become what he’d hunted all his life.
He had met Shannah, Hewitt, and Overstreet all within a short period of time and from then on, their lives had been strangely intertwined.
Closing his eyes, he thought back to when it all began …
Dying of some rare blood disease with no known cure, Shannah had come seeking a vampire who might save her life. It had taken a while to convince the girl he wasn’t what she was looking for and then, because she had no place else to go, he had taken her into his home. Enchanted by her innocence and her beauty, he had given her a little of his blood while she slept. He didn’t have the power to heal her, but his blood had strengthened her and prolonged her life.
About that same time, his publisher began insisting Ronan do book signings and daytime interviews on TV, something he was unable to do. But there was Shannah, young and lovely and literate. He coached her about the books he’d written, bought her an expensive new wardrobe and sent her out into the world as the face of Claire Ebon, Eva Black and Stella Raven.
And then Hewitt and Overstreet had arrived on the scene and his life had taken a dramatic turn. Hewitt wanted his head. Overstreet wanted an interview. Ronan was not inclined to offer either one.
Until the fools kidnapped Shannah.
She had been on the verge of death when he tracked her to where they had taken her. He had demanded they bring her to him. They had refused. And then Overstreet proposed that Ronan give him the interview he coveted in exchange for Shannah. He’d had no other choice but to agree.
When the interview was over, Hewitt refused to surrender Shannah, fearing, and rightly so, that Ronan would kill him and Overstreet both. In the end, Ronan had given his word that he would not harm them that night if they brought Shannah to him before it was too late.
He had brought her across when he got her home. Later, they had wed.
He had never thought to see Jim Hewitt again. Hadn’t given the man a second thought since the night he turned him, until Shannah mentioned his name. Now he couldn’t think of anything else. Shannah had said abandoning the hunter had been cruel.
And it had been.
Maybe one of these days he would search Hewitt out and see how he was getting along.
And maybe not.
Chapter 8
Sunday was a slow, lazy day. Unlike most cities and towns across the country, Susandale’s shops remained closed all day, which was fine with Sara. Her parents hadn’t believed in shopping on the Sabbath, a habit that Sara still adhered to.
After making her bed, she fixed breakfast, did the dishes, put in a load of wash.
At loose ends, she called Travis, but the call went directly to voice mail. She wondered if she would see him later. He hadn’t said anything about coming over. Still, she had seen him every night since they’d met.
With nothing better to do, she decided to go for a walk. It was a lovely day, the sky a bright clear blue, the air warm, fragrant with the scent of flowers and grass. Susandale might be a small town, but it was immaculate. All the houses were well-tended, the lawns lush and green, the streets free of debris.
She was surprised when she turned the corner and saw a boy and girl playing catch in the middle of the street.
She paused to watch as they tossed a big blue rubber ball back and forth, the boy teasing his little sister when she missed. The two were obviously related. Both had the same build, the same red hair, the same sprinkling of freckles across their cheeks. They stopped playing when they saw her watching them.
Smiling, Sara said, “Hello.”
The little girl smiled shyly.
The boy looked at her suspiciously. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m new in town. I own Sara’s Sweets and Salts Shoppe over on Main Street.”
“My mom shops there,” the girl said. “Her name’s Olivia.”
Sara remembered her. Olivia Bowman had the same red hair as her kids. She had been friendlier than Sara’s other customers. “And what’s your name?”
“Debbie. I’m nine.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“Mom teaches us at home,” the girl replied.
“That’s nice. What does your daddy do?”
Debbie and her brother exchanged glances, their expressions suddenly wary.
“Why do you want to know?” the boy asked, his expression sullen.
“No particular reason,” Sara said. “I was just curious.”
“He sleeps all day,” Debbie said.
“Hush, Debbie,” the boy scolded. “You don’t need to tell her our business.”
Before Sara could think of anything else to say, the front door across the street opened and Olivia stepped out on the narrow porch. “Debbie! Luke! It’s time to come in.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Debbie said. “Bye.”
“Goodbye.” Sara looked over at Olivia and waved.
The woman hesitated, then waved back.
Sara was hoping to chat for a moment, but as soon as her kids were inside the house, Olivia closed the door.
With a shrug, Sara continued on down the street. She didn’t see any more kids, but a few doors down, she saw a woman on her knees, pulling weeds from the flowerbed in her front yard. She looked up, shading her eyes with her hand when Sara stopped on the sidewalk.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Sara remarked.
“Yes. You’re the woman from the candy shop, aren’t you?”
Sara nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Deanne. Are you planning to stay in Susandale?”
“Why, yes, I am. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. Most newcomers don’t stay long, that’s all.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
“We’re a small, tightly knit town.” Rising, Deanne brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans. “Most people don’t think it’s a very friendly place.”
Sara took a step back. Was the woman telling her to leave? Feeling suddenly chilled, Sara smiled uncertainly and continued on her way. Maybe the town fathers —whoever they were—should change the sign at the town’s entrance from “Welcome” to “Susandale isn’t a very friendly place.”
She was almost home when a rather beat-up old green Dodge truck rattled past. The brake lights flashed as the truck slowed, then pulled a U-turn and drove up beside her.
A grinning Carl Overstreet stuck his head out the window. “Morning, Miss Sara.”
“Good morning, Mr. Overstreet.”
“Just Carl. What’s there to do in this burg on a Sunday?”
“Not much. Everything’s closed, I’m afraid. Even the café.”
“Yeah, I saw that.”
“Would you like to come over for lunch?” Sara asked impulsively, then wondered if it was wise, inviting a relative stranger into her house. Still, he seemed harmless enough. And she was lonely.
“That would be great. I was just wondering if I’d have to drive clear to the next town to grab a bite.”
“Well, it’s not altogether altruistic. I’m tired of my own company. I live in that next house,” she said. “And I’m only serving tuna fish sandwiches for lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.” He parked the car at the curb, then followed her up the fl
agstone walkway and into the house. At her invitation, he trailed her into kitchen and took a seat at the table.
She worked quickly and efficiently and in no time at all lunch was ready. She added pickles and potato chips to the plates and carried them to the table. “I’ve got soda, tea, or coffee. Or milk.”
“Just water is fine.”
She pulled a bottle from the refrigerator for him, grabbed a soda for herself, and then sat across from him. “I read your articles.”
“Yeah? I guess you think I made the whole thing up?”
“No. I’m sure you didn’t.”
He lifted one brow. “Most people don’t believe me. If they admit there are vampires, then they have to consider there might be other monsters lurking out there in the dark.”
“I was attacked by one Friday night.” She hadn’t meant to reveal that, but the words poured out of her mouth. “It was horrible! He yanked my car door clean off its hinges. I’ve never seen anything so frightening or been so scared in my whole life!”
Overstreet’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed. “Have you seen others?”
‘Others?” She shook her head. “Do you think there are more?” Sara put her sandwich aside, her appetite gone.
“It’s possible but doubtful. They tend to be solitary creatures, not given to sharing territory.” Or prey.
Sara nodded, hoping he knew what he was talking about.
“So, tell me, how did you get away from the vampire who attacked you?”
“A friend of mine came to the rescue. Lucky for me, he used to be a hunter.”
Overstreet grunted softly. So much for his story. The vampire was dead. Unless there were indeed others, as Joey Cannon had claimed. Carl finished his sandwich, suddenly eager to explore the town again before the sun set. “Thank you for lunch, Sara. It’s much appreciated.”
“Thank you for the company. I don’t get to do much socializing around here. It’s the town’s only drawback.”
Overstreet nodded. “Well, thanks, again, Sara. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again before I leave town.”
“If you’re not doing anything for dinner, I’m making fried chicken.”
“If that’s an offer,” he said with a broad smile, “I accept.”
“Six o’clock.”
A nod and a wave and he left the house.
Sara cleared the table and washed their few dishes. Maybe this wasn’t such a quiet little town after all. Vampires. Journalists. Ex-hunters.
What next?
Carl Overstreet drove through one end of Susandale to the other, slower this time that the first, stopping now and then to take notes and photographs. He was aware of unseen eyes watching him from behind drawn curtains. There was a heaviness in the air, an almost palpable tension that hung over the town. He was surprised that Sara hadn’t noticed it. He had recognized it for what it was the minute he’d arrived.
He wondered what would happen if he knocked on one of the doors but immediately dismissed the idea. There was always a chance the town housed more than one vampire and he was in no itching hurry to meet another one up close and personal.
He drove down the quiet streets a second time, then parked his truck in the lot behind the hospital. He set his phone to wake him before sundown and settled back for a nap.
Sara had just finished mashing the potatoes when the doorbell rang. She covered the pot, smoothed her hand over her hair and went to admit her guest.
“Hi, Carl.” She noticed he had changed his shirt and swapped his baggy sweater for a plaid sports jacket.
“Thanks, again, for the invite.”
“You’re welcome. How was your day?”
“Uneventful,” he said.
“I’m sure. Come on in, dinner’s ready.” She set the food on the kitchen table, urged him to help himself, and sat down.
“So,” he said, selecting a plump drumstick, “how was your day?”
“I re-read your articles. It’s all just so hard to believe. I don’t know how you found the nerve to be in the same room with the vampire. Weren’t you afraid?”
“We weren’t in the same room. I was inside a house, and he was on the porch.”
“How on earth did you get him to talk to you?”
“I was working with this hunter I’d met, Jim Hewitt. We kidnapped the vampire’s girlfriend. Long story short, we offered to give her back if the vampire would give me an interview.”
“Shades of Anne Rice!” Sara exclaimed. “That’s crazy!”
“Yeah, I know that now, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Is the vampire still alive?”
“I imagine so. He was very old and very powerful. And scary as hell.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“I don’t know. I hightailed it out of town and never looked back. You know what’s even more amazing? He wrote romance novels.”
Sara burst out laughing. “A vampire writing romance novels? Seriously?”
“Yeah. He had a couple of pseudonyms. Eva Black, Claire Ebon, Stella Raven.”
Claire Ebon was a man? And a vampire? And then she frowned as she recalled that Travis had claimed to know her. Or him. How was that possible? Even as the thought crossed her mind, there was a knock at the door. Murmuring excuse me, she went to answer it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Travis waiting on the porch. “Hi!”
“Hey, I hope it’s okay for me to drop by like this. It looks like you’ve got company.”
“I do. Come on in. You’ll never guess who it is.”
Travis swore under his breath as he caught Overstreet’s scent. “Listen, I don’t want to intrude. I’ll come back later.”
“Don’t be silly.” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him toward the kitchen.
Resigned to his fate, he followed her.
“Carl Overstreet,” Sara said, “I want you to meet …”
“Jim Hewitt!” Overstreet pushed away from the table and lurched to his feet. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Confused, Sara glanced from one man to the other. Jim Hewitt had been Overstreet’s accomplice in kidnapping the vampire’s girlfriend. She looked at Travis, one brow raised as she waited for an explanation.
“Good to see you again, Carl,” Travis said. “Although the timing couldn’t be worse.”
“What’s going on?” Sara tugged on Travis’ hand. “Why is he calling you Hewitt?”
“It’s a long story. Maybe you should sit down.” Travis glared at Overstreet. “Both of you.”
Sara sank onto her chair, her expression troubled, her hands tightly clenched in her lap.
Overstreet sat down more slowly, his eyes narrowed.
Travis took a deep breath. “I don’t know where to start.”
“It’s been my experience that the beginning is always the best place,” Overstreet remarked.
“Yeah. I should have taken your advice and left town,” Travis said. “But I didn’t. I followed Ronan and Shannah to New York, and I was right behind them when they left. And then I followed them back home.” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “And that’s when my luck ran out. I confronted Ronan and managed to stake him in the back. I told Shannah to make a run for it, that he was a vampire, and then …” He shook his head at the memory. “She yelled that she was a vampire, too, and then mesmerized me so that I couldn’t move. I had to stand there, watching, while she pulled the stake out of Ronan’s back.”
Overstreet nodded. “I always knew he’d turn her, sooner or later.”
“Yeah. Well, after she pulled the stake out, she dragged me over to him. I figured I was a dead man for sure. Instead, he gave me a choice. Die or become what I’d hunted my whole life. I should have let him kill me.”
“Why would you say that?” Sara exclaimed, even as she tried to process the fact that Travis was a vampire and his real name was Jim.
“Why? I lost everything that was important to me. Friends. Family. My purpose in lif
e. I used to be a hunter and a damn good one! And now? Now I’m just one of the monsters.”
“You don’t act like one,” Sara said quietly. Or look like one, she thought. The thing that had attacked her had looked like a monster. “You saved my life from a real monster the other night. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Travis muttered.
“Is that how you feel?” Overstreet asked curiously. “Like some blood-thirsty creature with no sense of right and wrong?”
“What? No. But I don’t feel like me, either.” Travis looked at Sara. “You’re a constant temptation,” he said. “Your blood smells so good. Sometimes it drives me crazy.”
Sara lifted a hand to her throat. He was a vampire. He had spent the night in her house. She had danced with him, let him kiss her.
“You’re wondering if I’ve bitten you,” he said, his voice thick with guilt.
She nodded, her eyes wide.
“Sara, I’m sorry. I swear I only took a little. Please believe me, I’d never hurt you.”
She stared at him, pity and trepidation warring in her mind. And then to her astonishment, his body took on a strange aura.
A moment later he disappeared from sight.
Overstreet grunted softly. Hewitt had killed vampires. Now he was a vampire. How many others resided in this quiet little town?
Chapter 9
Travis went hunting in the next town, which was considerably larger than Susandale. Langston was just a normal American city, full of noise and people going about their business, completely unaware that a monster had entered their domain. He detected no other vampires within the city limits as he prowled the back streets.
He had chosen to reside in Susandale because it was a quiet place, rumored to be a haven for vampires who wanted to live as normal a life as possible. As a rule, vampires were solitary creatures and he’d found that to be more or less true in Susandale. They all lived in the same town, but as far as he knew, there was little socializing among the Undead, although he knew the human spouses—male and female—met often.
He swore under his breath. Why the hell had Overstreet shown up here now? he wondered bleakly. It had ruined everything. Sara would never look at him the same way again. Assuming she ever wanted to see him again, which he doubted. Oh, hell, it wasn’t going to last, anyway. He was pretty sure that the women who would knowingly date a vampire were few and far between.
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