Red Night (Vampire Files Trilogy Book 1)

by RK Close

  I can’t help myself—I have to ask, “Have you eaten tonight?”

  He looks at me and laughs. It’s a wonderful sound. I didn’t know he knew how. Even though I like the sound of his laughter, I didn’t think it was a funny question.

  “Yes, I’ve taken care of that. It would not do for me to drink from you for the first time without satisfying my hunger first,” he says, looking at me with all humor gone.

  My heart speeds up, and a chills run through my body. A nervous knot tightens deep in my belly. Crap! He plans to bite me. And I agreed to it.

  We pull up to the front of a high-end bar that’s a short distance from the opera house. We wait for the driver to open the door, and Adam glides out effortlessly as I cautiously inch my way out. Adam is waiting for me with an offered hand. My dress falls to the side, and the slit exposes my thigh almost completely.

  Adam’s eyes glow enough for me to notice as I catch him looking at my leg. I emerge from the limousine holding his hand. I suddenly feel a little more in control now that we are out of the limo, and I know I have his attention. Time to remind him of what he will be missing.

  I even smile at the limo driver. He starts to smile back, but then Adam makes a sound deep in his chest that resembles a growl which causes the driver to look away quickly.

  This will be a fun night.

  ***

  We walk into the dark bar, and I feel like we have a neon sign over our heads. It seems as though all heads turn to look at us as conversation abruptly stop. I expected we would turn some heads, but not like this. This much attention is a bit overwhelming.

  I wrap my arms around Adam’s arm, for security, I suppose. The attention does not seem to faze him, and then I remember the first time I laid eyes on him. He turned heads all on his own. I’m not used to this kind of attention, but it sounded so fun in my head.

  We are seated at a booth in the corner and Adam allows me to slide in. Once I’m seated, he slides into the opposite side of the booth that allows him a complete view of the bar. A waitress comes and takes our order then leaves us alone.

  I decide that now is the time to mention my dream, and my concerns about Gabe.

  “I want to talk you about our plan,” I say, as I play with my beaded bag.

  “What is going on inside that enticingly seductive head of yours?” he asks.

  I get a warm feeling all over my body from his words.

  “Well, you know how I’ve had some strange dreams, and some seem like omens, and some have been more like shared memories?” I ask.

  He nods his head and waits for me to continue. “I had one last night, and it was painfully disturbing,” I say, feeling nervous anxiety in my chest with the mention of it.

  “I think you were in it, but I’m not sure because you wore a mask.”

  Adam looks slightly uneasy as he listens intently.

  “Sounds interesting. Was this from the past as the others were? What period of time would you say it was, if at all discernible?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I’m not up on historical periods, but if I had to guess I’d say seventeen or eighteen hundreds? I’m sure that doesn’t help.” I watch him closely.

  He seems to be affected by the small amount that I’ve shared so far.

  “Were there many people there?” he asks with interest.

  “Yes. How did you know?” I ask feeling nervous.

  It seems more than possible that my dreams are a combination of past, present, and future elements. Almost as if they are trying to tell me things. I wish I understood their messages. This new talent I have scares the crap out of me. I don’t want it.

  “There was a masked ball in my past where I almost caught up with Zachariah. Something unfortunate happened, and he escaped once again,” he says, deep in thought.

  The waitress brings our wine and informs us that the appetizer will be out shortly.

  I look at Adam intently.

  Leaning toward him over the table, I say, “Why do I dream things from your past? I mean, it’s been happening since the first night I saw you.”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve been wondering the same thing, but I have no answers at present.” He looks as concerned as I feel.

  “Okay, there is more to the dream that concerns me. Gabe and Zac were also there.”

  I’m scared to describe what happened, as though speaking the words will seal Gabe’s fate.

  I swallow hard before continuing.

  “In my dream Zac stabs Gabe through the chest with a sword right in front of me.” I feel tears threatening to fill my eyes, and I look away to prevent the flood.

  Adam places his hand on mine, and I look at him with unshed tears rimming my eyes.

  “You care for him.” He says it like a statement, but the question is in his eyes.

  I know he feels my pain so there’s no need to answer. Adam looks into my eyes a moment longer before turning away from me, and taking his hand off of mine.

  Does it bother him?

  I dab at my eyes with a napkin as I try to rein in my emotions.

  “I don’t think he should be there when we take Zac down,” I say, breaking the silence between us.

  I’m sure I should have saved this for tomorrow, but that’s too late. Adam pins me with a hard gaze. He looks angry now.

  “There is no plan without the Hunter. There are too many variables without Jacob, the Hunter, and myself. Our chances for success diminish significantly without him, and you could be killed,” he says angrily.

  “I could be killed anyway! I’m not hiding behind you and Gabe for the rest of my life. You’re already cramping my style,” I say, trying not to raise my voice. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I did have a life before the two of you became my twin shadows.” I say, trying not to lose it.

  At that moment the waitress arrives with my appetizer. I’m not entirely sure I can eat now. We’ve spent hours planning this, and now he wants to terminate the plan because of a slight change in detail. Once our waitress leaves, Adam leans forward and grabs my arm.

  “I will not watch you die. It was only a dream. Your precious Hunter will do his job. He understands the risk,” he says with an edge of irritation in his voice.

  I pull my arm out from his grasp, and he lets me.

  “Why are you here?” I ask as we glare at one another.

  He looks at me for a long moment then says, “I’m trying to take a beautiful yet infuriating woman to the opera.”

  “I mean, why are you here with me? You can get any woman to go with you to the opera. Why me?”

  “I was careless, and now you’re in danger. I’m trying to protect you from a predator.”

  “That’s it? Because you simply want to protect me out of some misguided guilt? Is that why we’re here, Adam?” I say, my face feeling flush with anger.

  He watches me without responding. All the feelings and thoughts I’ve been carefully stacking on those shelves are falling off one by one. I get up from the table and head for the door. All I can think of is getting away from him. I’m ready to cry, and I can’t bear for him to know how much his rejection hurts me. I’m out the front door and running down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the opera.

  I only make it to the end of the first building before Adam is in front of me.

  “Let me go! I don’t want your protection anymore!” I scream at him, and the tears I fought to hold back are running down my face like a river.

  This is the part of being a female that I hate. I can cry even when I’m angry. It’s part of our DNA, but it always makes me feel weak even though I know I’m not.

  I try to step around him, and he grabs me by my arms and shakes me when I try to fight him. I have a moment of weightlessness, and suddenly we are in a dark alley. I try to kick him, but he presses me against his body instead. I fight and squirm in his arms.

  I throw my head back to scream my frustration, but before any sound escapes my throat his lips are crushing mine wit
h an angry passion. When he savages my lips, I bite his in response. I taste blood, and instead of revulsion, a hot, blinding thread of passion rushes through my entire being like a jolt of electricity.

  Adam groans deep in his chest. His embrace tightens, and his fingers dig into my flesh until I think he will crush me to dust. And I don’t even care. Our kiss changes into something fierce with a life of its own. My arms slide up his chest until my hands find his hair, and I pull his head even closer. I’m drowning in the sensation of him.

  Adam holds me against him like a lifeline, and my feet no longer touch the ground. I can’t seem to get my body close enough to his, and I groan my frustration. In the next second my back is pressed hard into a brick wall, and Adam’s mouth is trailing hot kisses down my neck. My hands roam his hair, back, neck, and shoulders with a desperate need.

  His kisses burn like fire on my skin as his mouth slowly descends toward my heaving breast. My dream comes creeping into my mind with crystal clarity.

  The alcove, the stranger kissing my neck, his head going lower. His hand lifting my skirt. Oh, no!

  The memory of the dream lover that turned out to be Zac is like ice water to my flame. I push Adam away as hard as I can. He must have felt the change in me. He abruptly steps back from me as though I slapped him. His eyes glow brilliantly in their preternatural way. We are both gasping for air as though we were under water for a long time and only now reach the surface. There is confusion on his face. I never shared the part of the dream that made me feel like a traitor.

  Before I can try to explain, Adam’s face goes blank, and his breath goes out in a soft hiss. His look of shock is replaced with one of pain. He looks down at his chest, and my eyes follow. Just like my dream, there is an ugly blade protruding from his chest.

  My mind cannot comprehend what I’m seeing. Adam’s eyes meet mine, and he says softly, “Run…”

  I watch horrified as a trail of blood drips down his chin, and he drops to his knees before me. Just as in my dream, Zac is standing behind Adam looking at me like the cat that ate the canary. I hear someone screaming from far away as I watch Adam’s body fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.

  My world turns to a brilliant bright red before fading to black…

  Chapter 30

  I see the wide ugly blade protruding from Adam’s chest. His look of shock and pain is like a knife to my own chest.

  I’m floating in a dark place. That fuzzy space between dreaming and waking. My thoughts zero in on what happened before the relief of darkness claimed me. And pain is what I am. I cannot bear the thoughts swimming through my head.

  He’s immortal. He can’t die…he can’t leave me, not like this.

  I need to tell him things. Like how infuriating he can be, and how crazy he makes me feel. I need to tell him how thankful I am that he’s been protecting me, or at least trying to. He needs to know how much it means to me that he’s given up his time and pretty much his life to stand guard over me for the last few weeks.

  And of course he needs to know how I feel about him.

  How do I feel about him? He makes me crazy because he’s controlling, pushy, and full of himself. Adam is definitely the most arrogant man I’ve ever met or care to. He’s secretive, brooding, and many times a real pain in the butt.

  He’s also incredibly thoughtful when it matters, loyal, dependable, and sexier than any man I’ve ever met. I think that thought would pull a smile from him.

  I’ll never see his almost-there smile again.

  And Adam is honorable. He cares about right and wrong, even when his nature demands that he abandons those beliefs.

  And I…I care about him. I care deeply for him. It’s fair to say that I’ve been drawn to him from the first moment I saw him coming after me. Yes, as crazy as that sounds, but my whole being recognized him on some primal level that even I don’t understand. That’s the real reason he infuriates me. He affects me to my core, and that scares the hell out of me.

  He’s not even human, or is he? He was once, right?

  I don’t know what he is and I don’t care. He feels like a man, looks like a man, and definitely acts like a man. Does the rest really matter?

  I might have kept my feelings from him until I could understand them myself, but now it’s too late.

  I expected to see him heal instantly, the way he did the night he showed me what he was. Even then he trusted me with his most precious secret. I didn’t allow myself to process the magnitude of that one moment. I was caught up in the information, instead of the level of trust he afforded me that night.

  But tonight he didn’t heal in the alley. He told me to run as blood dripped down from his mouth, and his eyes glazed over before he crumpled to the ground—lifeless. My heart feels like it will explode from the pain of that memory. The one that would haunt me for the rest of my life, if it wasn’t about to end.

  In a million years I could never have imagined strong, defiant, and unstoppable Adam lying defeated by something as small as death. And am I to blame for him being caught off guard? Did I cause this by making a scene and forcing him to take me to the alley? Zac obviously saw an opportunity and chose to capitalize on it.

  I am the reason we were there instead of enjoying the opera together. The opera…

  I never had the chance to tell him that I’ve been falling for him slowly but surely ever since the beginning. Even if he didn’t feel the same, I should have let him know. He should have known before the end. Another regret I won’t have to carry for long.

  My head hurts, and there is a sharp pain radiating from my left temple. I must have hit my head when I passed out. I open my eyes, and it’s dark, cold, and uncomfortable. My senses are slowly coming around. I’m curled on my side, and lying on a hard scratchy surface of some sort. I smell oil, exhaust, and gasoline. There is a constant motion, and the sound of an engine.

  Oh, lord. I’m in the trunk of a moving car. Where is Adam? Did he leave him in that filthy alley?

  Warm tears stream down my face. Slowly my tears turn to a heart wrenching moan that evolves into gasping sobs. He’s dead, he’s dead! I did this! These thoughts keep repeating in my head.

  This is all my fault. And when he needed me I passed out like a weak girl—a weak, defenseless girl. I even had a dagger to fight with. I could have—

  My mind snags on that one word…dagger. I feel around and find the handle of the knife strapped to my leg. My mind starts to race with the possibilities. Zac either didn’t suspect that I had a weapon or he had no time to search me.

  How should I play this? Attack him when he opens the trunk or fake that I’m still unconscious? He may have heard my sobbing. Besides, he has the higher ground while I’m in the trunk. I’ll have to wait for the right moment, and hope he doesn’t discover it before I can use it.

  It’s several minutes more before the car comes to a stop. My heart is beating out of my chest. I’m sure Zac can hear it. I don’t hear his footsteps on the ground, but slowly the trunk opens, and I cover my eyes from the floodlights behind his head. He’s a dark shadow, and I can’t make out his face or features.

  “Samantha, my dear. You’ve been crying,” he says, reaching down and wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb. I say nothing. “Let me help you out of there.” Zac gently takes me by the arms and easily lifts me out of the trunk and onto my unsteady feet. His hands stay on my arms until I am able to stand. I look at his face as the light falls on him. Why is he being so careful with me? Last time I saw Zac he wiped up the street with me.

  “What are you going to do, Zac?” I ask in a shaky voice. He looks at me with a gentle smile. Not the evil sadistic smile I’ve been accustomed to.

  “I’m going to share a great gift with you, Sam. I’m going to give you immortality,” he says, with an excited look in his eyes. And then he surprises me by kissing my cheek and taking my hand to lead me to the front door of a large home.

  The blood in my veins turns to ice at his words. I falter, and h
e steadies me before drawing me up the steps to the front door.

  The home is modern, and must be worth millions. It’s all glass and concrete, with wood accents to soften the harsh, sterile material of the exterior. It’s dark out here and the stars in the sky stand out brilliantly. There are no nearby lights from neighboring homes, but I do see the lights of the city off in the distance, framed by dark hills on either side.

  Nobody to hear me scream, and nowhere to run for help. This will end here one way or another.

  Zac seems pleased that I’m not fighting him. He keeps looking back at my reaction to the view, the house, and to him. The longer I can keep him from restraining me the better. I look around the mansion, for lack of a better word, in awe. I’m also trying to get the lay of my temporary prison.

  The house is stunning in a purely modern, cold way. It’s not my thing, but I can appreciate it. I guess I’ll die in style.

  The house can’t be Zac’s, so I’m wondering what he did to the unfortunate owners. I can’t help myself.

  “Where are the owners?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.

  “They are vacationing in the south of France. They have a gardener and housekeeper. I took the liberty of giving them the weekend off,” he says, smiling. He picks up a remote.

  I’m relieved, and somewhat surprised that he didn’t kill anyone to acquire the use of the home. Unless he’s lying to me, and there are several dead bodies hidden throughout the property. I hope not.

  Zac presses a button on the remote and a wall slides to the side, revealing an elaborate stereo system. A moment later classical music fills the air. It lends a bizarre and eerie atmosphere to the home.