“How?”
“He still craves blood, but just as one transforms into a vampire, the vampire continues to transform. As he reaches new levels of maturity, new powers and new abilities are introduced. But it’s the same as with a newly transformed vampire who doesn’t understand his abilities until that first taste of blood. Each new ability requires understanding, perhaps even practice.”
She was visibly pale, and James sat ready to catch her if she looked like she might faint. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s stronger, and he’s older. He has abilities you may not comprehend,” he said simply, as if it really could be that simple.
“Like what abilities?”
“Mind control.” Hell, that really did sound so simple, and yet it was the most complex of processes.
Her brows drew together as she took in his words. “What the hell are you talking about, James?”
He answered her question with a question. “What exactly did he do to you when he had you tied in that room, Emma?”
She blinked at him once, then twice, as if perhaps she didn’t understand the question. “What did he do to me?” she threw back at him, almost screaming, her anger back in an instant. “What did he do to me? He—he—he . . . It was a . . . It was—”
Just as she couldn’t say the word vampire, Emma couldn’t say what she’d experienced. Her mouth simply wouldn’t form the words. Suddenly there were large tears flowing down her cheeks, and her knees couldn’t seem to hold her up any longer. She sank to the floor, and he was there with her, taking her in his arms. “I tried to tell you last night, but I can’t. I can’t say the words. I carried the bruises for weeks. I couldn’t sleep for weeks. I couldn’t keep down any food. I couldn’t stop him. You have no idea how terrible that is, to have no control. He kept touching me, and I couldn’t stop him. I felt his hands and his teeth. I couldn’t stop him when he lifted my skirt. It hurt everywhere he touched me . . .”
He held her to him. He hadn’t wanted a repeat of last night. He’d hoped they were beyond that. But now she had to face the truth, no matter how ugly it was.
“You didn’t carry any bruises, Emma,” he said softly.
“Yes, I did. My legs and arms were covered with them. And so were my . . .” She didn’t finish, but moved her hand across her chest. “I remember how cold he was—his touch, his fingers, his lips. It was so cold, and it hurt so much.” Her words were filled with anger, yet she was nearly sobbing.
“There were no bruises.” He didn’t tell her that in the weeks that followed, he’d watched over her. He didn’t tell her how it tore at his heart to see her in shock and not be able to help her. But he’d seen no bruises on her. “It was part of his mind control. He made you believe the bruises were there, just as he made you believe he did things to you, when in fact he never touched you.”
She clung to him, gripping his shirt with her fists. “I’m telling you, the bruises were there!”
“I carried you to Doc Jenkins. You didn’t have anything but raw skin where your wrists and ankles were tied. Doc examined you completely. There was not one physical mark from him on you.”
Pressed against his chest, she shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
He held her arms and moved her away from him enough to look into her eyes. “It was nothing but a mind game to him, Emma.”
“No.”
“Yes. He linked himself to your mind. He may still be linked, and you don’t know it. That’s why it’s useless for you to leave; it would even be dangerous. Anywhere you go, he’ll know where you are. He may even know everything you do and who you’re with. I don’t know how strong he may be, but I doubt there’s any place on earth that you can hide from him.”
She stared up at him as the color drained from her face. Her eyes looked like large green saucers. “That can’t be true,” she said, her words whispered so softly he barely heard them.
“It is true. I would never lie to you.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said.
He held her closer against him. “Take some deep breaths.”
She did as he instructed. She didn’t lose her little bit of breakfast; neither did the color completely return to her face. James simply held her. He knew it was a lot to take in, but she had to know what they were up against. And he had to know if she could handle it before either one of them was put to the test he knew was coming.
“Tell me what he looks like, Emma.” He hoped he didn’t sound like a cop. He wanted to sound like the man who wanted to hold her and protect her forever.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Why not?” he asked gently. He had to know if having her eyes closed in the dream had been reality, too.
“I didn’t see him. I refused to open my eyes.”
He held her against his chest again, and he let his lips touch the softness of her hair. Breathing in deeply, he filled himself with the soft scent of her. And he waited several long moments for her to calm in his arms. “The eyes are more than a window to the soul,” he explained. “They’re a doorway. Like any other doorway, a vampire cannot enter without being invited in. You kept your door closed, and he couldn’t take anything from you. He couldn’t bite you or take your blood. So he linked himself to your mind and gave you horrifying visions.” James knew he made it sound so incredibly simple, and yet the mind games were probably worse than anything else this monster could have done to her.
Her voice, when she spoke, still shook with tremors. “I don’t believe it was something as simple as a horrifying vision.”
“It’s not simple, but it is horrifying.” James knew it could be done, and until last night, he’d never attempted anything along those lines, never had need to do so. For generations, he had been able to read the thoughts of others. He could even send certain thoughts to another person, as he had wanted to do to the sick woman in the waiting room of the doctor’s office before Emma had stitched his hooked finger. To him, it was a mere nudge to get someone moving in the right direction. But until last night, he had never actually become a part of someone else’s thoughts. He cleared his voice and paused, hoping she had the strength to face his next words. “I also think it’s how he killed these two women.”
For a long moment, he thought she was no longer breathing. The world might very well have stopped, the room was so still.
“Are you certain?” she whispered against his chest.
“No, not really. But like you feeling certain this is the same vampire as before, I also think he did, indeed, use the same type of mind control to kill both women. I think he used it to make them see something that wasn’t there. And because he could control it, he could make it as terrifying as it needed to be to scare them to death.”
He looked down at Emma, but she didn’t look up at him. “I know Jillian was terrified of cemeteries, and Glenda was terrified of snakes. But there was nothing in the cemetery that could kill Jillian, and there’s no indication of a snakebite or even a sign that there was a snake nearby when Glenda died. My men have checked out her entire apartment.”
“That was another reason why she moved here,” Emma said softly, “because she knew there were no snakes on the island.”
James rested his chin on the top of her head. “He knows what scares them, and he uses it to scare them to death.”
“Why?”
She took a deep breath, and he couldn’t help noticing the way her breasts pressed against him. He wished he had better control over his reaction to her, but he didn’t. He wished he could kiss her until her fear of the world washed away, but he couldn’t do that, either. So he took a deep breath and worked to concentrate on the situation. “Fear, guilt and love are the strongest of emotions. He feeds on them just as he does blood. He thinks they give him strength.”
“He thinks?”
“Technically, the emotions don’t do anything physical to him, not like drinking blood provides him nourishment. It’s more like experiencing p
leasure or great sex,” he tried to explain, as he remembered how exuberant and wonderfully alive he’d felt after sharing the dream with her, after experiencing the wonder of her body. “It’s probably no different from drinking several beers,” he added, working to keep their shared dream from distracting him. “You’ll get a buzz, but nothing but empty calories, nothing nutritious.” He paused and looked down at her, waiting until she looked up before he continued. “He also knows what frightens you most since he gave you the ultimate nightmare.”
She swallowed hard as his words sank in. “Do you think he’ll use it to kill me?” she asked in a small voice.
What a question, and how could he answer it? If this monster was what James thought him to be, he was capable of anything. He could kill everyone on the island if he knew everyone’s secret fears. “I won’t let him do that,” he replied, not really certain he could prevent it if that was what this creature intended.
“What do we do?” Her words might not be strong and loud, but she was in control. She wasn’t quivering or crying or screaming at him or trying to run in the opposite direction.
“First, we’re going to finish breakfast.”
“I don’t think I can,” she argued.
“We need to have our strength for whatever we may have to face. You’ve worked out enough to know the importance of keeping in shape,” he reminded her.
She couldn’t argue that point. “Okay, I’ll try to force it down. But I doubt pancakes and hot chocolate will be my favorites after this.”
Chapter Ten
The Taste of Chocolate
“So what do we do first?” Emma asked as she put down her fork. The pancakes were a little more than half gone from her plate, but she really couldn’t force down another bite. The hot chocolate that James had warmed a second time in the microwave had gone down easier. And so far, all of it was staying where it was meant to stay, even though her fear felt as if it was tying all her insides into tiny little knots. “Do we go hunting for his coffin where he sleeps in the daytime?” she asked seriously.
“He doesn’t sleep in the daytime. That’s just a myth. In fact, he doesn’t sleep at all.”
Emma looked down at her empty plate. “Oh, that could be bad, because I do have to sleep.”
“How about if I say you won’t be sleeping alone?” James asked softly.
Emma met his gaze evenly and didn’t reply for a long moment. “If he can control someone’s thoughts, can he come into my dreams while I sleep?” she asked.
Funny that she should ask that, James thought, but didn’t voice it. Nor did he tell her he’d already done it himself. “Yes, he could, but he’d have to be close to you to do that. And I’m not going to let him get that close. I promise.”
“All right,” she said slowly, accepting his words, accepting his promise. James was glad she didn’t ask him how he knew the vampire could do such things. “What other myths are there?” she asked.
“If he’s as strong as I suspect he is, the sun won’t affect him,” he said, working past the idea of lying beside her a second night—and a third and however many were necessary until this monster was stopped and she was safe.
“Would it if he wasn’t this strong?”
“It would possibly burn him, yes, and that would keep him indoors during the sunniest part of the day. But since it’s cloudy and starting to rain, that wouldn’t be a big worry for him,” James explained.
“What about crosses?”
“Another myth. Unless it has a pointed edge that could be used as a stake, it wouldn’t bother him in the least.” James answered her with honesty because ignorance in this case was dangerous not bliss.
“So where do we start?” she asked.
“First, I want you to call Doc and tell him you’ll be spending the day with me.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I plan to keep you with me every moment until we find this monster and destroy him.”
Emma wiped her mouth with her napkin, feeling as naked as she’d been in her dream when he’d looked at her, when he’d touched her. “Do you think we can find him and stop him in a day?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I’ve spent a lot of time studying vampires and hunting them,” he admitted, watching her closely for any reaction. He saw none until his next words were out of his mouth. “I usually have a sense about them, and I haven’t felt much regarding this one.”
He didn’t want to explain any more than was necessary right now, but her reaction was so visible as she paled, her eyes standing out brightly against her white skin.
“How much is not much?” she asked.
He was just glad she didn’t ask him about why he studied them or hunted them. “Hardly anything, which in and of itself is highly unusual. It could be that he’s not thirsting for blood, so that’s why I didn’t sense him,” he said, making it sound casual, as if anything he might sense usually came later. “But we’ll look around today and see what we find. There are always clues for someone who knows where to look.”
“So where do we look?”
“We’ll start at Glenda’s duplex. Any clue will be freshest there. Then we’ll go to the cemetery. I want to take a look around before Jillian’s funeral.”
Emma met his gaze evenly, despite the way this all felt so surreal, as if it made perfect sense and they went vampire hunting everyday. Then she got up and took her plate and mug to the sink. When she turned around, she found James right behind her with his plate and empty milk glass in his hands. He placed his dishes in the sink. Then he took her in his arms. She molded to his chest, amazed at the strength and gentleness she felt in his embrace.
“You really won’t leave me alone, will you?”
“No, not for a moment,” he promised.
“What if he goes into my mind and makes me see things or feel things again?” she whispered.
James had known this question would come. He was just surprised it hadn’t come sooner. “I’ll figure out a way to stop him,” he said. She felt so small, so fragile, in his arms. What if he couldn’t protect her? What if something worse than before happened to her? Since he had no real idea how this was being done, he didn’t really have a clue as to how he would stop it.
He couldn’t think about the what ifs. He only wanted to think about the right now, what Emma felt like in his arms, the warmth of her pressed against him. Besides, he knew the answers to all of the what ifs. If something happened to Emma, it would be the end of him, too. From the first moment he’d touched her five years ago, he’d known he couldn’t live if something happened to her, even if he did have to merely watch her from a distance.
With his hands, he caressed her back, feeling every contour of her spine. Her heat radiated into him like the warmth of the summer sun on a hot day at the beach. Her sensuous scent was intoxicating and seemed to touch every aspect of his senses. The softness of her hair brushed lightly against his chin. Against his chest, he felt her heartbeat.
Without thought, he kissed the top of her head. The flowery smell of the shampoo she used mingled and mixed with her own scent that he’d come to know, to recognize, and to search for so well. She sighed softly against his chest. Gently, he reached up and touched her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her, didn’t even think about it.
Yet, kissing her was the most natural, most logical, thing to do.
Her lips were tentative beneath his, and warm and alive. She felt as she had in the dream they’d shared, but so much more. Now she didn’t hesitate, didn’t feel lifeless before she molded to match his kiss. Her mouth was warm, sending something close to fire into the pit of his being. The passion that touched him with her kiss was like a hot flame, filling him with warmth and sending into him a need for more.
The flavor of the sweetest chocolate he’d ever known lingered on her lips. At the same time, she tasted of Emma, the taste he’d first savored when his fish began to burn.
Through the kiss, he f
elt her entire body come to life. Her breasts pressed against him. Beneath her clothes, he felt her nipples, hard and erect, longing for his touch. He heard, as well as felt, her heart beating, now racing. He felt the way she worked to draw in a breath. Desire, like her blood, pulsed through her, and it mingled with the need he felt in his own blood.
He deepened the kiss and pressed her tighter against him. And when he felt her hands pressing against his back, he didn’t even attempt to stop, didn’t attempt to bring any control to the raging desire that coursed through him.
For so long, he’d wanted her. Night after night, day after day, he’d watched her and waited and wanted. She was everything he’d ever dreamed about and more.
She opened her mouth to him and his tongue moved with hers in an ancient dance. Together, they sank to the floor, never breaking the kiss. She was as eager for his kiss as he was to give it. James drew his lips away from hers for a fraction of a second to allow her to take a breath and swallow. He couldn’t touch her enough. He wanted to hold her to him, and yet, he wanted to touch her face and slide his fingertips down her arms at the same time. He simply couldn’t get enough of her or get close enough to her. She shivered, and it was strong enough to move up the entire length of her. The subtle movement, her reaction to his touch, carried his want higher.
He moved his fingers to her hair, the back of her head cradled in his palm, as his other hand pressed against her breast. She leaned into his touch and moaned, the sound deep and throaty. He kissed her lips, her cheek. Then he moved down to taste her throat. Her pulse pumped life against his lips.
James felt blood rush in his own ears. It would be so easy, so simple, to take her, to make her completely his. In one swift move—a bite that would be sensual, not painful—they would be joined in a bond stronger than any other. The scent of her skin was like the greatest perfume, beckoning, inviting, enticing. The taste of her soft skin was salty and sweet, smooth and delicious to his tongue. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted and swollen from his kiss. In his arms, she sighed again.
No Fear Page 13
