“Not exactly. Hunting is more of an avocation than a job.” Better she should think him a hunter than what he truly was, he thought, amused.
“Well, you’re certainly good at it. How did you know those two were following me?”
“I saw them pull over in front of your building while I was looking for a place to park. It made me suspicious.”
“That’s twice you’ve saved my life.”
He nodded, pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last time. He had mesmerized her on the dance floor earlier tonight, just long enough to take a little taste of her blood. In seven centuries, he had never tasted anything like it. Her life’s blood was thick and rich, but, more than that, it had gone through him like fire, enhancing his vampire senses, his preternatural powers. Had he been a young vampire, unable to control his hunger, she would likely be dead now. But he was ancient and well able to control his hunger and his desire. But that added kick in her blood . . . It had given him a mild high, the kind humans experienced after one too many drinks.
So who was Tessa Blackburn? And who the hell was Madame Murga? And why had some gypsy woman told a fledgling that Tessa’s blood would make him stronger? Had she actually foreseen such a thing? Or had she thrown out a name at random in a desperate attempt to save her own life? What if the rumor was true? And how the hell was he going to find out?
“Can I get you something?” Tessa asked. “A soda? A cup of coffee, perhaps?”
He glanced at the hollow of her throat, at the pulse throbbing there. The beating of her heart was strong and steady, the sound of the blood coursing through her veins a siren song that took all of his considerable willpower to resist now that he had tasted her. “No, thank you.”
“Something stronger? I think I have a bottle of Scotch someone left here a few months ago.” She frowned. “No, you’re a wine drinker, aren’t you? I have a bottle of merlot a coworker gave me for my birthday.”
“Sounds good.”
She went into the kitchen and rummaged through a cupboard until she found the bottle she was looking for. She pulled the cork, then poured a glass of wine for him, a soda for herself.
“I don’t know why people keep giving me wine when I don’t drink it,” she remarked, handing him the glass. “Anyway, my friend assured me that 2009 was a very good year.”
Andrei swirled the wine in the goblet, inhaling the bouquet. A good year indeed. Although it had been centuries since he had eaten solid food, he detected the rich aromas of chocolate and espresso. A sip carried the taste of dark cherries and plums.
“So, how is it?” Tessa asked, resuming her place on the love seat.
“Excellent.”
“I must be the unluckiest woman in the city,” Tessa remarked, curling one leg beneath her. “Or maybe the luckiest.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’ve been attacked by vampires twice in a matter of days. I’d call that unlucky. On the other hand, you were there to rescue me both times. I’d call that lucky. For me, anyway,” she said with a faint smile. “Maybe not so much for the ones who attacked me.”
“I’m glad I was here for you.”
The look in his eyes, the unmistakable hint of desire in his voice, sent a little thrill of pleasure down Tessa’s spine. But who could blame her for being flattered? He was drop-dead gorgeous, after all, and sexy as sin on a Saturday night.
Andrei smiled inwardly. He didn’t have to read her thoughts to know she found him desirable. It would be so easy to mesmerize her, to make love to her until dawn, and then wipe the memory from her mind. He had done so to countless women in the past, and while those encounters had been pleasurable, he much preferred his lovemaking to be spontaneous and his partners warm and willing.
“Do you really sell antiques?” Tessa asked.
“Indeed.”
She frowned. “There aren’t any antique stores in town.”
“I sell them from my home to a select clientele.”
“Oh.” She was curious to know where he lived, but couldn’t summon the nerve to ask.
Swallowing the last of his wine, Andrei stood. “I should be going.”
“So soon? It’s still early.”
“It’s for the best.” He placed the goblet on the end table. “If I stay any longer, I’m going to take you in my arms and make love to you until the sun comes up.”
Tessa blinked at him. Men had desired her before, but none had ever expressed it quite so candidly. Or tempted her quite so much.
Brushing a kiss across her brow, he murmured, “Good night, dragostea mea.”
Before she could decide if she should ask him to stay, he was gone.
* * *
Andrei. His face rose in Tessa’s mind as soon as she woke in the morning. In the shower, she heard his voice softly threatening to make love to her until the sun came up.
While she dressed for church, she couldn’t help wishing she had asked him to stay the night—a wish that no doubt required some sort of repentance on her part. After all, didn’t the Bible say lusting after a woman—or a man, in this case—was the same thing as doing the deed? And if a thought was as bad as the action . . . well, she was already damned.
But how could she help but want him? Andrei was beyond gorgeous, beyond sexy, beyond description. She had never met a man like him. Doubted if there was another man like him anywhere in the world. A woman would have to be three years dead not to be attracted to him. And this morning, she felt very much alive.
She ate a quick breakfast, stepped into her favorite heels, grabbed her handbag, and ran out the door.
She managed to stay within the speed limit—mostly—and made it to church with a minute to spare.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” Jileen whispered, scooting over to make room for Tessa.
“Why would you think that?”
“I texted you yesterday and you never answered. I figured you were . . .” At a reproving look from the minister, Jileen fell silent. Until the choir began to sing, and then she whispered, “You were supposed to call me this morning with all the details.”
“I’m sorry. I turned my phone off when we went to the movies and I guess I forgot to turn it on again.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Now hush!”
During the next hour, it was all Tessa could do to keep from laughing at her friend, who looked like she was about to burst with curiosity.
As soon as the service was over, Jileen grabbed Tessa by the hand and hurried her outside. “All right. Tell me everything! You went to the movies and . . . ?”
“And he followed me home and killed a couple of vampires.”
Jileen blinked at her in openmouthed astonishment. “What is it with you and vampires?”
“I don’t know, but it’s getting kind of creepy, you know?”
“Dinescu is like your own personal Superman.”
“You should have seen him. He was like . . . like . . . I don’t know how to describe it. It was horrific and bloody, but he was amazing. He’s a hunter, you know.”
“He is? I thought he sold antiques.”
Tessa shrugged. “He does. He said hunting’s an avocation.” She bit down on the inside corner of her lip, wondering if she should tell Jileen the rest.
“I know that look,” Jileen said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“He said he wanted to make love to me.”
“Just like that? I mean, you’ve only known him a few days.”
“Look who’s talking, Miss Falls in Love on the First Date.”
“We’re talking about you, not me.”
“Last night, he said if he stayed any longer he was going to take me in his arms and make love to me until the sun came up.”
“That’s so romantic! How was it?”
“Jilly, I just met the man a week ago, remember?”
Jileen sighed dramatically. “I wish Luke said things like that. He’s a great guy, but he doesn’t have a romantic thought in that handsome he
ad of his. Isn’t it odd, that we’re both dating vampire hunters?” Glancing at her watch, she said, “Listen, I’ve got to go. My folks are expecting me for lunch. Do you wanna come? I know my mom would love to see you.”
“Not this time,” Tessa said, giving her friend a hug. “I’ll see you for lunch at work tomorrow.”
Jileen lifted one brow. “Are you going out with him again?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about another date. Say hi to your mom and dad for me.”
At home, Tessa kicked off her heels, then changed into a pair of sweats. In the kitchen, she made a tuna salad sandwich and opened a can of soda. Moving into the living room, she plopped down on the sofa.
She loved Jileen’s parents, but she needed some time alone to come to terms with the events of the last few days. Last night, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Andrei with blood on his hands, heard his deep, sexy voice saying he wanted her. He had saved her life and she was more grateful than words could express, but she couldn’t stop thinking that he had killed three men right before her eyes, no matter that they were vampires trying to kill her. He was a hunter. How many vampires had he destroyed? Did she want to go to bed with a killer? Even one who had saved her life?
It was a question that haunted her for the rest of the day, whether she was watching TV, sending an e-mail off to her mother, or trying to read a book. Of course, she might be worrying for nothing, since he hadn’t asked to see her again.
Tossing the book aside, she stared out the window as another, more troubling question niggled at her mind. Why were all these vampires coming after her?
And why now?
Was it just a coincidence that three vampires had tried to kill her in the last few days? She sure wanted to think so.
Suddenly exhausted, she rested her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes....
And Andrei was there. Clad in ubiquitous black, his dark eyes aglow with desire, he wrapped her in his embrace and swept her away to a place where she had never been. He aroused her in ways she had never imagined, wooed her with whispered words of love, seduced her with his kisses, until she cried out for him to take her, only to turn away in horror when she saw the blood on his hands....
She bolted upright, a long, shuddering sigh of relief escaping her lips.
It had only been a dream.
* * *
Deep in his lair, Andrei roused from his daytime rest. He had been dreaming, something he had not done in over seven hundred years.
Dreaming of Tessa.
Seducing Tessa.
Until she had seen the bloodstains on his hands . . . so much blood.
He stared into the silent darkness that enveloped him like a shroud.
Vampires didn’t dream, so how was it possible that he was dreaming of her?
That he was dreaming at all?
And then he knew the answer.
It was the blood.
Tessa’s blood.
Chapter Five
Luke Moran signaled the bartender for another drink, then went back to studying the horde in the Crypt. It was a big crowd for a Sunday evening. His buddy Gene had hinted that this was a favorite hunting ground for vampires. Luke could see why. The atmosphere was suitably creepy, the music dark and heavily sensual. Without exception, everyone in the place wore black—a color favored not only by rebellious teenagers but by the undead, as well. Many wore long capes and cloaks or sported other goth attire.
Heaving a sigh, Luke reached for his drink. He had been here for over an hour, but, to the best of his knowledge, there wasn’t a bloodsucker anywhere in sight.
Vampire hunting had seemed like an easy way to make a few bucks. Find one of the creatures. Follow him to his lair. Take his head while he was trapped in sleep during the day, or snap a photo of the creature with a stake in its heart. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He had been on the job for about eight months and, thus far, he hadn’t found a single vampire.
And yet, they were here somewhere. Five bodies drained of blood were proof of that. Of course, the vampire or vampires responsible might have left town. How would he know?
Might as well face it—he was a flop as a hunter. But then, like Gene said, the only good hunters were born that way. And Gene should know. He was one of the best. Luke could arm himself with strings of garlic and wooden stakes and gallons of holy water, but he didn’t have his friend’s instincts, and he never would.
Hell, maybe it was time for him to look for greener pastures . . . there was nothing to keep him in Cutter’s Corner. Nothing but that sweet filly Jileen.
She was a pistol, that one. More fun than any chick he’d ever dated. Maybe it was time to give up this idea of being a vampire slayer, find a nice, steady nine-to-five job here in town, and settle down with that little spitfire.
Pleased with his decision, Luke drained his glass. He was on his way out the door, thinking he might just drop in on his lady fair, when he brushed shoulders with a man entering the club.
Like everyone in the Crypt, the newcomer was dressed all in black, but there was something about him . . . Luke couldn’t put a name to it, but he knew—knew!—that he was looking at the genuine article.
A real, one-hundred-percent, dyed-in-the-wool bloodsucker.
Glancing over his shoulder, Luke watched the man make his way to the bar. And all the while, his mind screamed the question: How did I know what he was?
Chapter Six
Andrei paused just inside the Crypt entrance, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at the fair-haired young man walking out the door. Tessa’s scent, though faint, had clung to the man’s skin. What was that man to Tessa? More importantly, what was the man to her?
Andrei’s hands curled into claws as an unexpected surge of jealousy uncoiled inside him—along with a sudden urge to rip the man’s head from his shoulders.
Hissing an oath, he forced himself to turn away, to move to the bar, to order a glass of wine.
After finding a seat, Andrei scanned the crowd. After so many years a vampire, he had learned to control his hunger. Since then, he had become rather particular about his prey. In centuries past, he had not been so choosy. Any prey, anytime—that had been his motto. But with age came a certain fastidiousness. Given a choice, he eschewed blood that was tainted by drugs or disease or tobacco. He preferred women, of course. They tended to be cleaner, prettier, and sweeter-smelling.
It took only moments to make his choice—a slightly plump redhead with freckles across her nose and a crooked smile. It took little effort to compel her to his side. He introduced himself, bought her a gin and tonic, invited her to dance. Holding her close, he mesmerized her with a look, then bent his head to her neck. She smelled faintly of lavender soap. To anyone watching, it looked like he was kissing her, or perhaps whispering in her ear. When he finished, he walked her back to the bar, released her from his compulsion, and left the club.
A thought took him to Tessa’s apartment.
She was in bed, asleep.
And dreaming.
Of him.
The knowledge pleased him beyond measure.
He would seek her out tomorrow.
The thought filled him with excitement and a sense of anticipation he hadn’t felt since he was a young man in love for the first time, with his whole life—his whole mortal life—ahead of him.
He grunted softly. His future certainly hadn’t turned out as planned. He had been born to a wealthy family, had expected to marry well and eventually take over the running of his family estates in Baia Mare. His father had chosen his future bride and while he didn’t love Cosmina, she had been a comely wench, well endowed, with a sweet smile and a pleasant demeanor. His father had assured him that love might come, in time.
And then Andrei had met Katerina. He had been smitten with her from the moment he first saw her standing on the balcony of his cousin’s country home. He had pestered his cousin for an introduction. Once made, Andrei had spent t
he rest of the evening at her side.
Katerina had been lovely but aloof, a woman secure in her own beauty. He had been charmed by her loveliness, seduced by her innocence—a purity that was at odds with the mystery in her slanted gray eyes.
By the end of the night, he had been hopelessly in love, ready to throw away his inheritance and his future for one night in her arms.
But she wanted more than a flirtation. She wanted marriage. And much, much more. It had taken almost a year to obtain his father’s blessing, not to mention a sizable amount of money to appease Cosmina’s irate family. But, in the end, Andrei had taken Katerina to be his wife.
And to his bed.
It was there that he learned the secret behind those mysterious eyes. His bride was neither as young nor as innocent as she appeared.
The love of his life was a vampire.
One night of heaven had quickly turned into a life of hell.
Katerina’s driving ambition was to be queen of the castle and for that to happen, Andrei had to be king. Over time, she killed his parents and then she killed his three older brothers, cleverly making each death look like an illness or an accident.
Only when every other possible heir to the estate had been dispatched did he discover her treachery. Enraged, he had sought to destroy her. But he was no match for her preternatural powers. She mesmerized him, drained him of blood to the point of death, and turned him into a monster fit to rule at her side.
She had stolen his will, forced him to do despicable things that even now, hundreds of years later, filled him with revulsion.
It had taken him over a century to gain enough power to withstand her compulsion and be his own man again. Another century had passed before he felt strong enough to fight for his freedom. And another hundred years before he achieved it. Like wild beasts, they had fought tooth and nail. Her preternatural powers were stronger, but, in the end, it had been his greater physical strength that had made the difference. With Katerina momentarily defeated, he had fled her presence and never looked back.
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