Night's Surrender

by Amanda Ashley

  A few last congratulations and they all went their separate ways—the newlyweds hurried off to the hotel, Logan and Mara decided to see the show at The Venetian, Savanah and Kathy dragged their husbands off for a night of dancing; Derek and Sheree opted to go sightseeing.

  Abbey wondered if they would all get together later, after she was asleep, to go hunting.

  “Alone at last,” Nick said as they strolled back to the MGM. “What do you want to do now?”

  Abbey shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

  “How’s this for a start?” Drawing her into the shadows, he wrapped her in his arms, lowered his head, and kissed her.

  She leaned into him, her hands fisting in his shirt front, pulling him closer. He slid one hand down her back, drawing her body even tighter against his.

  His voice a husky growl, he said, “I think I know what I want to do now.”

  Abbey was asleep, a satisfied smile on her face, when Nick left the hotel. Even though it was close to three A.M., people still crowded the sidewalks. Of course, it was an entirely different class of people. This late—or early—the underside of the city came out to play.

  Nick strolled down the sidewalk, aware of a man and woman coupling in the alley across the street. Several hookers—ranging from young and uncertain to older and wiser—propositioned him along the way. He passed an old man snoring on a bus bench, sidestepped a man and a woman laughing drunkenly as they shuffled none too steadily toward their destination.

  So many people, Nick mused irritably, and none of them appealed to him.

  He was on his way back to the hotel, and the warmth of his bride’s bed, when a man darted out from behind a parked car. Wielding a large knife, he snarled, “Gimme your wallet!”

  Nick snorted. “Go to hell.”

  The man stared at him, rage building in his eyes, and then he sprang forward, his blade arrowing toward Nick’s heart.

  Nick moved instinctively, easily avoiding the blade as he plucked the weapon out of the man’s hand. “You’re not much,” Nick muttered as he tossed the knife aside. “But it’s late and I’m hungry.”

  Abbey stared up at the ceiling. Nick had been gone for about an hour. Out searching for prey, no doubt. Or bending over the neck of some sweet young thing.

  He had thought her asleep when he left, but sleep eluded her. For a time, she contemplated how much she loved him. How much she loved making love to him. Each time proved better than the last.

  In the chapel tonight, surrounded by her family, she had felt like an outsider—a sparrow flying with eagles. Were they all out there hunting the night together while she lay here in the dark alone and lonely? Would she be happier if she were with them, preying on some helpless mortal?

  She quickly shut the door on that train of thought and focused on the wedding instead. Edna and Pearl were in their seventies, yet they could look forward to hundreds of years with the men they loved. If she was lucky, she might share sixty years with Nick. What would it be like, when she was in her seventies or eighties, and he still looked like a man in his late twenties? Would he stay with her until she passed away? Would she even want him to?

  Blinking back her tears, she turned onto her side and stared into the darkness as she waited for him to return.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Several days later, Abbey sat on the top rail of the corral fence, her hands resting on her knees as she watched Freckles kick up her heels. It was good to be back home. Nick had wanted to spend a few more days in Vegas, but she had been anxious to get home and sleep in her own bed.

  She grinned when Freckles rolled in the dirt, then sprang to her feet and bucked from one end of the corral to the other.

  Since returning home, Abbey had spent several sleepless nights, her thoughts in turmoil about her life, her marriage, her future.

  She frowned when she saw her mother striding toward her. It was unusual for her mom to be out and about this early in the day. Was something wrong at home?

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Savanah climbed up on the fence beside her. “Hi. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  Abbey nodded. “Is something wrong?”

  Savanah took Abbey’s hand in hers. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  “A mother’s instinct, maybe. Is everything all right between you and Nick?”

  Abbey bit down on the corner of her lip, debating whether to confide in her mother. It would be great to unburden herself. And surely her mother would understand.

  “Abbey?”

  She hesitated a moment more, then blurted, “Mom, did you ever feel like an outsider?”

  Savanah’s hand tightened on hers. “Of course, honey. Everyone does at one time or another. Why do you ask?”

  “At the wedding, I wondered if you all got together later, after I went to bed, to go hunting together, and . . . and I felt left out, like I’d been abandoned.”

  “Honey . . .”

  “I know that’s not how it was, but I just . . . I don’t think I want to live like this anymore, always on the outside looking in. Never really belonging.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I think I’m going to ask Nick to bring me across.”

  “Oh, Abbey. Are you sure?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Nick tried being human for me and it didn’t work.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  Savanah shook her head, and then sighed. “I know how difficult this decision can be,” she said quietly. “My only advice is to be absolutely sure it’s what you want. Not what you think Nick wants. Not what anyone else thinks is best. It has to be your decision, and yours alone.”

  “I know, Mom. Thanks for not trying to talk me out of it.”

  “It was tempting,” Savanah admitted with a faint smile. “But I suspect you’ll accept the Dark Gift because you can’t abide the thought of growing old while Nick stays young. And because it’s the only way you can have a truly meaningful, long-lasting relationship with the man you love.”

  Abbey nodded. “If I decide to do it, it won’t be right away. I mean, I’m only twenty-six. I thought maybe I’d wait a year or two.” She sighed. “Or maybe three or four.”

  “Believe me, daughter, I know what you’re going through. I thought about it long and hard, contemplating the pros and cons, weighing what I’d be giving up against what I’d be gaining. But in the end, it all boils down to one thing: Do you love Nick enough to become what he is? If not, it’s best to end it now and move on.”

  On the drive home, Abbey thought about what her mother had said. There was no question about loving Nick. She loved him with her whole heart and soul....

  Her soul.

  She had never considered the religious aspect of becoming a vampire. It brought her up short. If she accepted the Dark Gift, would she be damned for all eternity? Did her mother feel damned? What about her father? And yet, her father had been born a vampire. How could he be punished for that?

  Abbey broke out in a cold sweat. Her parents had killed people. She didn’t know how many. She didn’t want to know. Was it considered murder if it was self-defense? And what about Nick? He had admitted to killing people when he was a fledgling. But he had been turned against his will. Wouldn’t those deaths be on Mara’s conscience—if she had one—since she had turned Nick and then abandoned him?

  Abbey pounded her fist on the steering wheel. Why did she have to think about this now, when she had almost made up her mind?

  Nick was waiting for her in the mudroom when she got home. He took one look at her bleak expression and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Avoiding his gaze, Abbey sat on a stool to remove her boots. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She felt his mind brush hers.

  “Is it true?” he asked. “You’re thinking about becoming a vampire?”

  “Ma
ybe. I was mulling it over today when my mom stopped by the barn.”

  “I see.”

  “It wasn’t like that. She didn’t try to talk me out of it. She just warned me to be sure it was what I wanted before I made a final decision.”

  He nodded. “Good advice.” He followed her into the living room, remained standing, his arms folded over his chest, while she sat on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath her.

  Abbey scrubbed her hands up and down her arms. “A fire would be nice,” she said, still not meeting his gaze. “I think it might rain.”

  He glanced at the hearth; a moment later, flames crackled to life. “Spit it out, Abbey. What’s really bothering you?”

  She cleared her throat, wishing he would just read her mind because putting her fears into words made them all too real.

  “Abbey?”

  “Do you ever worry about your soul?”

  He looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. “My soul?”

  She nodded. “Do you think vampires are damned?”

  “What brought that up?”

  “I don’t know.” Abbey wrapped her arms around her middle. “I . . .” She shook her head. “I just suddenly started to wonder about all the people I love. I know my parents have killed people. And so has everyone else in the family. You’ve taken lives. . . .”

  “Abbey.” He whispered her name as he sat beside her and gathered her into his arms. “I don’t know your mom and dad very well, but I’m willing to bet they’ve never killed anyone who didn’t have it coming.”

  “But that’s not true for you, is it?”

  “You’re sweet to worry about my soul, love. But by now it’s probably light years beyond redemption.”

  “What if I kill someone, Nick?”

  Cupping her face in his hands, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “I will never let that happen, Abbey Marie. I swear it on your life.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes as she buried her face against his shoulder.

  Feeling suddenly helpless, Nick stroked her hair, her back. “You don’t have to become what I am, sweetheart. I’m yours for as long as you want me. I love you, Abbey. Nothing on earth will ever change that. I promised to love you for as long as I lived, and I meant every word.” He tilted her chin up so he could see her face. “Do you believe me?”

  She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

  He made love to her that night, each kiss, each caress, reinforcing his promise to love her forever. In Nick’s arms, all her doubts and worries melted away.

  But, like noxious weeds after a summer rain, they sprouted anew with the coming of dawn.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Still half asleep, Abbey smiled as Nick rained kisses across her cheeks, her brow, the tip of her nose. A soft sigh of contentment rose in her throat as his hands moved lightly over her breasts and belly.

  “You awake yet?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Maybe. Maybe I’m dreaming that we’re making love.”

  “Give me an hour and I can make that dream come true.”

  She shivered as his tongue licked her ear, but then he drew back. Rising on his elbow, he gazed down at her. “What’s wrong?”

  She blinked up at him. “Nothing, why?”

  “You’re troubled about something. I can feel it. Taste it.”

  She would have denied it but what was the point? He would just sort through her thoughts until he uncovered the misgivings that had haunted her dreams and waited to meet her on waking.

  She was about to try to explain, but he didn’t give her a chance.

  “You’re still worried about my soul, aren’t you?” He brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek. “Still afraid that if you become a vampire you’ll go to hell?” Nick shook his head. Abbey had never seemed like the religious type. Oh, he knew she believed in a higher power, in good and evil, but they had never really discussed religion.

  Except for Father Lanzoni, Nick didn’t know any vampires who spent much time in church. He had resigned himself to his fate centuries ago. He had done what was necessary to survive, and if there was, indeed, a final judgment, then he would face the consequences of his actions. “I thought we put all this behind us last night?”

  “I did, too, but . . .” She shrugged. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “You don’t have to become a vampire, love. I told you that. But if you decide to become one, you’ll never have to kill. And you won’t have to feed on humans if you don’t want to. You can feed on me.”

  She stared up at him, her eyes wide. “You told me vampires don’t usually feed on other vampires.”

  “They don’t.” He stroked her cheek. “But in your case, I’m willing to make an exception.”

  “Nick, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything, anytime.”

  “You won’t get mad?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ever ask forgiveness for the lives you took?”

  “No.” In truth, it had never occurred to him. “Would it make you feel better if I did?”

  She nodded.

  “All right, love. I’ll get in touch with Lanzoni and I’ll go to confession if it’ll ease your mind.”

  “Oh, Nick!” She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome. Now, about making that dream come true . . .”

  Later that afternoon, while Abbey and her dad went to pick up a load of hay, Nick called Mara for Father Lanzoni’s phone number.

  “Why on earth do you need a priest?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure you aren’t getting married again, and you don’t sound like you need last rites.”

  “Just give me the man’s number.”

  “Not until you tell me why you need it.”

  Nick bit back an oath. “Did you ever feel the need to confess your sins?”

  “My what?”

  “You heard me. Have you ever felt guilty about your past, about the lives you’ve taken?”

  “Is that what this is all about?” Mara exclaimed incredulously. “You want to go to confession?”

  “Yeah.”

  A very unladylike expletive slipped past her lips.

  “Nice.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that Abbey has something to do with this?”

  “She’s worried about my soul.”

  “I’m worried about your sanity. You’re a vampire, Nicky, not a saint.”

  “Just give me the damn number.”

  She rattled it off, then disconnected the call, but not before he heard the sound of her laughter.

  “This is an unexpected pleasure,” Father Lanzoni said, smiling. “Please, come in.”

  Nick glanced around as he entered the priest’s house, which looked more like a church than a home. There were crosses, large and small, as well as numerous statues and pictures of the Virgin Mary and other saints. A particularly large crucifix enjoyed a prominent place on the wall above the fireplace.

  “What brings you here?” Lanzoni asked.

  “I promised my bride I would go to confession.”

  Surprise flickered in the priest’s eyes. “Are you Catholic?”

  Nick shrugged. “I used to be.”

  “Very well. Are you ready?”

  Nick glanced around. “Are we going to do it here?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “If I’m going to do this, I’d just as soon do it in a church, if it’s all right with you.”

  “Of course,” the priest said. “That would be my preference, also, but I wasn’t sure how you would feel about it. You know how some vampires are,” he said. “Once they’re turned, they don’t want anything to do with religion.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said dryly. “I used to be one of them.”

  Lanzoni gestured toward the door. “Shall we go? The church is just down the street.”

  Built of gray stone and red brick, the church on the corner was old, though not as old as the chapel
where Nick had married Abbey. Stained-glass windows on either side of the massive front doors depicted scenes from the life of the Good Shepherd. The bell in the tower chimed the hour as Nick and the priest climbed the stone steps and entered the vestibule.

  Although he hadn’t been to confession in centuries, Nick automatically genuflected, then crossed himself when he entered the chapel. He tensed as he knelt there, waiting for heaven’s lightning to strike and burn him to ash.

  When nothing happened, Nick followed the priest toward the confessional. Stepping inside, he took a deep breath and then closed the curtain.

  Fretting over what was keeping Nick so long, Abbey called her dad and arranged to meet him at the barn, thinking a nice long ride might take her mind off her worries.

  “This was a good idea,” Rane said as they led the horses outside and tethered them to the corral fence. “We don’t do this often enough.”

  “We’ll have to fix that,” she said, smiling.

  “Is something bothering you?”

  Abbey shook her head. Why did everyone keep asking her that?

  “You look a little distracted,” her father remarked.

  Abbey glanced at her watch, noting it was only a few minutes later than the last time she had looked. Had she made a mistake, insisting Nick go to confession? She wasn’t Catholic. She hadn’t been to church in years. Who was she to tell Nick how to live his life? Whatever guilt he felt, whatever sins he had committed, were between her husband and his God.

  “What’s up, daughter?” Rane asked when she glanced at her watch again. “You got a hot date?”

  “No, I . . .” She ran the dandy brush over Freckles’s neck. “I just wondered what was keeping Nick. He said he’d meet me here.”

  “How are you two getting along, now that he’s a vampire again?”

  “Fine, Dad. Stop worrying about me.”

  “I’m your father. It’s my job to worry. No regrets, then?”