She dressed with care. Tonight, she would be the perfect daughter. She would would speak to all of her parents’ friends, dance with old Mr. Blumberg, laugh at Mr.
Bowers’ jokes, listen to Aunt Dorothy’s endless stories about her Siamese cat, Tigger.
Pasting a smile on her face, Sara went downstairs, determined to be in a good mood and have a good time. Determined not to waiver from the decision she had made that morning.
Travis stood in the shadows outside the country club. Although the building was packed with people, he had no trouble locating Sara or reading her thoughts. She was biding her time until the dance was over, trying to find an easy way to tell her parents she was leaving home.
Filled with a need to see her, he willed himself to a men’s shop and helped himself to a change of clothes—black trousers, white shirt, black jacket, black tie, black shoes.
Five minutes later, he slipped through the kitchen door of the country club and made his way up a winding staircase to the second floor.
He spied Sara dancing with an elderly gent. She looked lovely in a gauzy, pale- blue dress. Unlike most of the women, she wore her hair down so that it fell over her shoulders in silken waves. Never had she looked more beautiful.
Moving across the floor, he tapped the elderly man on the shoulder. “Do you mind if I cut in?”
The old man inclined his head as he surrendered the field.
“Travis, what are you doing here?” Sara asked, eyes wide with astonishment as he took her in his arms.
“Dancing with you.”
“How did you get here? How did you find me?”
“How do you think?”
Her lips twitched in a knowing smile. “Oh.”
“I couldn’t stay away any longer,” he said. “I had to make sure you were all right. Just one dance and I’ll go.”
“No! No. Please stay.”
“Does that mean you missed me, too?”
“You have no idea how much. Let’s go some place where we can talk.”
“Whatever you want.”
When the song ended, Sara took his hand and led him to a winding stairway that led to the third floor. French doors opened onto a balcony that overlooked a flower garden. The air was warm, fragrant with the scent of roses and lilacs. Music drifted on the breeze, punctuated by the sound of laughter and the faint hum of conversation from the floor below.
“How have you been?” she asked, stepping out onto the balcony.
“Never better than now, when I’m here with you.”
She smiled as his words sank deep into her heart. “What happened in Susandale after I left?”
“The place is pretty much a ghost town now. Bowman turned Overstreet.”
“Oh, no! Poor Carl.”
“Yeah. Listen, Sara, I never should have come here. I think Bowman threatened Overstreet and Carl told him where I am. Which means you might be in danger.”
“I don’t care.” Cupping his face in her palms, she kissed him. “You’re here and that’s all that matters.”
“I can’t stay. You’re not safe as long as you’re near me. As soon as Bowman’s no longer a threat, I’ll come back for you.”
Soft laughter came from the doorway.
Muttering an oath, Travis put Sara behind him then pivoted to confront Jason Bowman. Travis swore again when he saw that Bowman hadn’t come alone. Four vampires Travis didn’t recognize stood behind him.
“Afraid to face me by yourself?” Travis taunted.
“This time we finish it,” Bowman snapped.
Murmuring, “Stay here, Sara,” Travis stepped into the room and closed the balcony doors behind him. “Let the girl go. She’s got no part in this.”
“She knows too much. And I want her.”
“No way in hell!”
With a shake of his head, Bowman jerked his chin at one of the other vampires, then stepped back while the vampire flew across the room, claw-like hands aiming for Travis’ throat.
Sara glanced around, looking for a way off the balcony so she could go find help, but the only exit was going back the way they’d come.
Looking through the door, Sara pressed a hand to her heart as Travis and the other vampire came together in a silent, bloody battle. Faces impassive, Bowman and his three companions watched until, in one swift move, Travis ripped the heart from the other vampire’s chest and tossed it aside. The vampire collapsed like a rag doll and disintegrated.
Sara looked away, her hand covering her mouth as she fought down the urge to vomit.
The other three vampires were on Travis before the dead man hit the floor.
Filled with despair, Sara closed her eyes, certain Travis would be killed. She risked a peek, let out a startled cry when Bowman materialized beside her. Terror trapped the scream in her throat as he grabbed her by the shoulders and sank his fangs into her throat.
Travis let out a harsh cry of denial when he saw Bowman bending over Sara’s neck. Fighting for his life and for hers, he managed to tear the throat from another of Bowman’s henchmen. It made the other two wary and they backed off.
Panting, Travis faced them across three feet of blood-stained oak floor. He needed to end this now, before it was too late.
His head jerked up when he felt a stir of preternatural power in the room and suddenly Ronan was there. And he wasn’t alone. Overstreet was with him.
“I want Bowman,” Overstreet said,
Travis snorted. “Get in line.”
“No way! Damned bloodsucker turned me and threatened Winona. He’s mine!” Carl declared and darted past Travis out to the balcony.
Travis turned to follow him, let out a cry of denial when he saw Sara sprawled on the balcony floor. He ran toward her, only to be stopped when the two remaining vampires flung themselves at him.
Desperate to get to Sara, Travis was trying to fight them off when his sire’s power tore them to shreds.
“Get Sara,” Ronan said. “I’ll clean up the mess.
Travis raced toward the balcony, eyes burning with tears as he knelt beside Sara and lifted her into his arms. Bowman hadn’t been gentle. Her neck had been cruelly savaged. Her face was fish-belly white, her breathing shallow, her heartbeat so faint he could scarcely hear it.
“Sara? Sara! What should I do?”
“Travis …”
“I’m here!” He held her close, one hand lightly stroking her cheek. “Tell me what to do.”
“I don’t … want … to … leave …” Her voice trailed off as her eyelids fluttered down.
“Sara!” He looked up as Ronan came to stand beside him. “What should I do?”
“That’s your decision. But whatever you decide, you’d better do it quick. She’s almost gone and even I can’t bring back the dead.”
Travis shook his head. How could he make a decision as life changing as this for someone else? He glanced at Overstreet, who had come to stand beside Ronan. The writer’s clothes were splattered with blood. The fact that he was still alive meant Bowman was dead.
“She said she didn’t want to leave,” Ronan remarked. “I can only surmise it’s you she didn’t want to leave.”
“I’ve never turned anyone. What if I do it wrong? Can’t you …?
“If I turn her, I’ll be her sire.”
“No!” He glanced at Sara. “What if I do it and she hates me for it?”
Ronan shrugged. “Then you’ll have centuries to apologize.”
Travis scowled at him. “I can’t do it here. What if someone comes?”
“Don’t worry. No one will come up here until you’re through.”
Travis drew in a deep breath and blew it out in a long, slow sigh. He had never turned anyone before, but he discovered that he knew instinctively what to do. Because her neck had been savaged, he bit gently into her arm and drank as much of her blood as he dared take. And then, praying she wouldn’t hate him for what he was about to do, he bit into his own wrist and held it over her mouth. “Drink, love,” he wh
ispered. “Drink and be mine forever.”
When it was over, Travis wrapped his arms around Sara and transported them to his lair, leaving Ronan and Overstreet to clean up the mess.
After removing Sara’s clothes down to her underwear, he washed the blood from her neck and face, then carried her to his room and put her to bed. He watched in amazement as the torn flesh in her neck knit together. A hint of color returned to her cheeks. Her breathing grew less labored, her heartbeat stronger, although it beat less often than when she was human. Her hair took on an added luster.
He sat at her side all through the night, praying that she wouldn’t hate him, that he had made the right decision.
Two hours before dawn, Ronan materialized beside the bed. “You doing all right?”
“I’m okay. It’s her I’m worried about.”
Power swirled through the air as Ronan placed his hand on Sara’s brow. “She’ll finish healing while she sleeps. When she wakes tomorrow night, she’ll be as good as new.”
“She’ll be a vampire,” Travis said dryly. “I don’t call that as good as new.”
“Well, if you look at it from my perspective, she’ll be better than new.”
“Somehow I doubt if she’ll think of it like that.”
“She might surprise you once she’s had time to think about it. After all, being forever young and beautiful and healthy isn’t such a bad thing.”
Hewitt grunted softly. “Where’s Overstreet?”
“He went back to Winona’s place. The guy’s got guts, I’ll give him that. He intends to write about his experiences in Susandale and how he was turned.”
“What? Are you kiddin’ me?”
“Nope. Only this time, he’s writing a book of fiction instead of a series of articles.”
Travis chuckled. “Looks like he’s going to give you some competition in the publishing game.”
“More power to him.” A faint grin twitched at his sire’s lips. “Maybe he can get Winona to pretend to be him if he gets the thing published and his editor wants him to go on tour.”
“And there is nothing new thing under the sun,” Travis said, grinning as he remembered how Shannah had posed as Ronan.
“Are you quoting the Bible now?”
Travis shrugged. “It seemed appropriate.”
“Seriously, are you going to be all right?”
Travis glanced at Sara. “I won’t know that until she wakes up.”
“Well, you know where to find me.”
Nodding, Travis said, “Thanks, Dad.”
Ronan glowered at him, then was gone as quickly as he’d arrived.
As the sun climbed over the horizon, Travis brushed a kiss across Sara’s lips, then stretched out on the floor beside the bed.
Murmuring, “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, love,” he closed his eyes and let the darkness carry him away.
Chapter 34
Sara woke to the sound of rain drumming on the roof, so loud, it sounded like horses’ hooves pounding on the tile.
Where was she? The room was dark and unfamiliar, yet she could see everything clearly. When the light came on, she closed her eyes against the brightness. When she opened them again, cautiously, she saw Travis standing at the foot of the bed, a peculiar, almost fearful look in his eyes.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice guarded.
Sitting up, she said, “I had the most horrible nightmare.”
Something in his expression told her it hadn’t been a dream.
“Sara …”
“Why are you looking at me like that? What’s wrong?” Fear’s icy tentacles slithered down her spine. “Where am I? What have you done?”
Clearing his throat, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “What do you remember?”
“Remember? About what?” she asked. And then she frowned as snatches of the previous night returned—Travis fighting with another vampire, ripping out his heart. Bowman grabbing her … biting her … Eyes wide, she stared at Travis. “Did he turn me? Is that why I feel so peculiar?”
“No.”
She stared at him. Waiting.
“You were dying,” he said, his voice ragged. “I couldn’t let you go.”
Her gaze searched his. “You turned me.”
He nodded, his eyes dark with guilt and regret and something that looked like fear.
He had turned her into a vampire. One of the Undead. A creature of the night. It was incomprehensible. Unbelievable.
“Sara, are you all right?”
“All right? All right!” she exclaimed, her voice rising with every word. “How can I be all right? I’m dead!”
“You don’t look dead.”
She scowled at him, then burst into uncontrollable laughter. Welcome to the club, she thought hysterically. First Travis. Then Overstreet. And now me. Just one big happy family of ghouls. Maybe she should change her name to Morticia.
“Sara?” He looked worried now.
When he took her in his arms, her laughter dissolved into tears.
He held her close while she cried, his hand lightly stroking her back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his own tears dripping onto her hair. “So damn sorry. But I couldn’t lose you. Hate me for all eternity if you want, but I just couldn’t live in a world without you in it. I love you, Sara.”
I love you, Sara. Four simple words that healed the hurt and banished her fears. She recalled her grandmother saying there could only be happiness in a relationship when like married like. Well, she and Travis were alike now, that was for sure. And, in reality, this was the only way they could ever realistically have been together. After all, a turtle might love an owl, but where would they live?
“Sara? Say something.”
“I love you.”
He drew away a little so he could see her face. “You mean it?”
“Of course.”
“So, you don’t hate me?”
“Have your ears stopped working? Didn’t I just say I loved you?”
“I know, but …”
“But what?”
“I thought you’d be angry, despise me, say you never wanted to see me again.”
She blew out a sigh. “I guess I should be more outraged, but what’s the point? What’s done is done. And you did save my life, after all. How can I hate you for that? Am I upset? Of course. I never wanted this,” she said with a wry grin. “But, like you once told me, it’s done and can’t be undone. So I’ve decided to accept it. I’m sure there will be days when I regret it, when I will hate you, but for now, I’m just glad to be alive.” She looked at him intently. “Are we alive?”
Travis nodded. “We’re alive, just in a different way. We still breathe, our hearts still beat.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “So, since you don’t hate me, would you consider being my wife?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” she said, her brow furrowing. “Okay, I thought about it. I’d love to marry you.”
“Sara!” Pulling her back into his arms, he held her tight. She loved him. It was a miracle.
“What am I going to tell my parents?” she asked at length.
“Anything but the truth,” he muttered dryly.
“I don’t … oh!” Hit by a sudden pain unlike anything she’d ever known, Sara doubled over. She groaned deep in her throat as agony spread through every nerve and fiber of her being. “What’s happening to me?”
“You need to feed.”
Feed! Wide-eyed, she looked up at him. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.” He bit into his wrist and held it out to her.
Sara licked her lips as she stared at the dark crimson blood oozing from the shallow punctures, closed her eyes as the scent of it seemed to infuse her very pores. When had anything ever smelled so good?
“Drink, Sara. It will ease the pain.”
Feeling horribly self-conscious, she took hold of his arm and lapped at the blood like a kitten with a bowl of fresh cream. The taste was int
oxicating, and she let out a soft cry of protest when he drew his arm away.
“That will hold you for a short time, but sooner or later, you’ll have to hunt, because you can’t survive on my blood.”
Hunt. The very thought sent a shudder through her. It sounded so primitive, so barbaric. How could she feed on other people? She certainly loved the taste of vampire blood, but would she like the taste of human blood as much? What was it Travis had said? Once you taste it, you really don’t want anything else. Would she feel that way, too?
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
She blinked at him. “A walk?”
He shrugged. “It will help clear your mind.” He gestured at the chair in the corner. “I brought you a change of clothes and some other stuff.” Rising, he moved away from the bed. “I’ll wait out here,” he said, and closed the door behind him.
Sara stared after him. She was a vampire. She knew it. She felt the difference—the other-worldliness of it—with every breath. And still it seemed impossible. A distant part of her mind held to the hope that she was in bed, dreaming. Even though she knew she wasn’t.
Blowing out a sigh, she stood and began to dress.
Sara’s gaze moved quickly through the darkness. It was like seeing the world for the first time. Her vision was amazing. Colors appeared as bright in the night as they did in the light of the sun. She could make out the numbers on a license plate a mile away. Her hearing was just as acute. She heard a leaf fall to the earth, the beating of a moth’s wings, the cry of a baby two blocks away, the mother’s lullaby as she comforted the child. And, over all, the incessant beating of human hearts—a siren call she was reluctant to answer.
Walking beside her, Travis squeezed her hand. “You’re going to have to give in sooner or later.”
“I know.” She could feel the hunger like a living thing inside her, gnawing at her vitals, demanding to be fed. Travis’ blood had eased the pain but did nothing to ease her thirst.
“Travis, what happened to Jason Bowman?”
“Overstreet killed him.”
“And the other vampires?”
Dark of the Moon Page 19
