No Fear

by Allie Harrison

  He really could take her now, make her his, right here on his kitchen tile. He felt the familiar change in his teeth. It would be so easy to slide his lower half into her at the same moment his teeth pierced her throat and he tasted her blood. He could just imagine the ecstasy.

  She wouldn’t fight him. He knew that, too. She wanted him. He felt her want as strongly as he felt his own. She offered herself to him by leaning up to kiss him again. How had her sweater been pushed aside, her bra strap moved down her shoulder? He hadn’t remembered moving it or touching either garment. There was no mistaking the way she pressed her breast against his hand. She moaned at the way he gently pinched her erect nipple. Then she pushed herself against his pelvis. He felt it is as he felt her desire. The invitation was in the touch of her lips.

  James leaned back and looked at her. She looked dazed, her eyes filled with passion when she met his gaze.

  “Don’t stop,” she said, her words breathy and husky.

  He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “You don’t know what you’re asking. We need to go,” he said, “or we won’t be going at all.” He tried to move her bra back into place. Her skin was so warm beneath his fingers, it nearly burned him. Taking his hand from her was nearly impossible, but he did it.

  “How do you do that?” she asked, sitting up suddenly, as if she’d been in a trance and snapped out of it. She hurriedly fixed her sweater.

  James blinked at her. “Do what? Put my lips on you? Drive us both crazy? It’s relatively easy.”

  “I haven’t let a man touch me in over five years,” she said softly. “You invite me to dinner, and the next day, I’m not only trusting you, but I’m wanting you to touch me. How does that happen so quickly?”

  “Maybe it’s just my unmistakable charisma,” he said with a grin.

  She laughed a shaky laugh, and the passion cleared completely from her eyes. James continued to look into them, hoping to bring that passion back soon, but now was not the time. Just as he knew that now was not the time to tell her what he knew, what he had known from that moment five years ago when he had taken her into his arms, when he had touched her and smelled her scent.

  She was his soul mate.

  As a wolf knows his mate from the first time he meets her, so does a vampire.

  And Emma was his.

  So he was going to have to use every ounce of his control, he thought, as he licked his lips and remembered how he could almost taste the blood pulsing just beneath the soft skin of her throat as strongly he had tasted chocolate on her lips and on her tongue. He could not afford to lose control and transform her, as he was wont to do. With his guidance, it would be days, weeks, and perhaps even months before she would be strong enough, mature enough, to be out in the sun without burning. As a new vampire, she would be most vulnerable in those first months. She could easily be lured away by the monster he believed stalked the island.

  No matter how much he wanted her, he would have to wait until this hunt was finished. It was not going to be easy to work closely with her and keep his hands off her. He watched her lick her lips, and the need to taste more of her pulsed through him. His mouth was suddenly dry, and his heart quickened its pace. Waiting wouldn’t be easy, he thought sarcastically. It was going to damned well be nearly impossible.

  Her cheeks were pink. The color was evident down her neck and was nearly the same color as her sweater. He clenched his fists to keep from reaching for her again so he could follow the blush. She was like a flower, blooming before his eyes.

  “You taste like syrup,” she said.

  He noticed that she didn’t look at him and was now careful not to touch him. He nearly grinned, enjoying her reaction to him.

  “You taste like chocolate.”

  She smiled at his comment, and he hoped like hell they could kill this creature quickly so he could spend the rest of eternity looking at her while she smiled at his stupid comments. He took her hand. He couldn’t believe the warmth he felt generating from her and into his arms. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll take you home for a shower and a change of clothes.” He didn’t add that he thought she should put on a turtleneck sweater. He helped her stand, and he couldn’t help noticing that her legs seemed as wobbly as a newborn colt’s.

  He hadn’t been lying. If they didn’t leave now, they wouldn’t be leaving at all.

  * * * *

  Emma was not at home. He had left Lily in the deep of the night to venture to Emma’s just to see if she swam in her pool, as she at times did when she couldn’t sleep. He didn’t even have to touch the cool glass of the walls that surrounded her pool to know the house was empty. He knew Doc was at the clinic with the latest—his latest—victim. Just as he knew Emma was not there with the old man.

  So where else could she be? She didn’t venture out after dark. He smiled at that knowledge, knowing he’d been the creature to put that fear of the dark into her. Just wait until he got close to her again. There were so many other things he planned to teach her to fear.

  Taking in a deep breath, he searched for her scent and found only that of the fall night that surrounded him. Emma was not close.

  Perhaps she had recognized something in Jillian’s death and had been frightened enough to venture to the mainland. He would love to check out that avenue, perhaps even catch her in unfamiliar territory, where Doc wasn’t close-by to watch over her. But he had started his pursuit of Lily Swan, and he didn’t dare leave her now. He had no idea what his disappearance might cause since his psychic ability was new. What if all his work of the evening simply faded away and she remembered seeing him in the diner and confusing him with Mr. Warner? She might even think she’d kissed him and not Mr. Warner. What if she then told someone, or worse—filed a complaint against him with the Chief of Police?

  No, he didn’t dare leave her at such a crucial time.

  He did have a few more hours before sunrise to search for Emma, who was the most intriguing because she’d been his first. The most intriguing because she’d had such a strong will. The most intriguing because she was the most beautiful.

  He smiled and felt those light feathers touching him in anticipation of the day she would look into his eyes and he would be able to enter her soul and know her as he knew all the others.

  Chapter Eleven

  Signs

  Soft mist landed on the windshield as James and Emma made their way to the house Emma shared with Doc. The wind was cold and damp, and Emma thought she could almost feel it blowing its way into the SUV. James obviously noticed her attempt to burrow deeper into the jacket she wore, for he reached out and turned up the heater.

  The radio squawked to life more than once on the drive. While coming off his shift, Officer Ghetts had called in that he was writing a ticket for another speeding driver, the second in the last hour. Officer Landry called in, stating he had nothing to report and he was off duty and heading home. James replied into the microphone, “Roger, that.”

  “Yesterday, when you took me to your house, no one spoke on the radio,” Emma pointed out. She didn’t note that, also unlike yesterday, James now wore an officer’s uniform shirt under his coat. He still wore jeans, however. She knew he was just as lax with his officers. They wore jeans most of the time, except for that one short officer, Ghetts, who was usually in full uniform, complete with crisp, shiny shoes. She didn’t even know how she knew that much about Officer Ghetts. There was something about his voice that rubbed her wrong, like raking her nails over a chalkboard. She usually avoided him.

  She also knew that Officer Landry even wore cowboy boots, but then, with his quick smile and the way he always winked, boots fit him more than any other shoes would. It appeared James didn’t mind what they wore with their uniform shirts as long as they wore their badges in plain sight and were professional.

  “Everyone knew it was my day off yesterday and that I’d planned to do some fishing, just as they knew I could be reached for emergencies on my phone” he explained. “So I t
urned off the radio.”

  “I guess this means you’re back on duty,” Emma pointed out.

  He grinned over at her. “I guess that’s what it means. Hopefully, we won’t be getting any calls out of the ordinary. But with this weather, there may be an accident or two.”

  “I hope not,” Emma replied softly.

  “Me, too.” The last thing he needed with the rain was an accident or two making a mess when he’d rather be out looking for signs of the vampire. An accident would distract him, something he definitely didn’t need when he wanted to keep Emma safe. He reached out and took her hand. It was cold, a stark contrast to the way it had felt when he’d kissed her on his kitchen floor. So he held it in an attempt to send some of his warmth into her.

  Emma snuggled up to James, relishing in his warmth until they reached the house she shared with Doc. It was a quaint house, with blue shutters and a blue roof, located not too far from the center of Medusa. Most of the decorating had been done by Doc’s wife, Mary. Doc had removed nothing in the past five years. As for Emma, until last night, until she had felt what home really felt like being in James’s cabin and in his arms, she had merely existed. She went to work. She did laundry when it was required, and dishes and meals. Even the small extra bedroom where she’d slept for the past five years was only that, a simple bedroom. The only part of the house that was truly Emma’s, the part where she felt most at home and spent most of her time, was the large sunroom that took up the back side that held Emma’s pool.

  “Have you ever considered moving into your own place?” James asked.

  Emma reached down and picked up the morning’s newspaper that rested on the front porch before she held open the door so he could follow her into the house.

  “No. Come on in,” she invited, tucking the folded small-town paper under her arm. “There just didn’t seem to be any reason for me to leave. Doc’s hardly ever here, anyway. He spends most of his time at the clinic or up at the Watering Hole with his friends. Besides, when he saw how important water was to me and he had the pool installed, I couldn’t just walk away and leave it.”

  “I’m sure he’d let you come back and swim any time you wanted,” he put in.

  “You don’t understand how there are times when I can’t sleep in the middle of the night and need to swim,” she reminded him.

  James understood more than she knew. There were many nights he’d watched her swim. He also understood that Emma and Doc had needed one another. And she was right. There was no reason for her to leave unless she simply wanted to spend her money on rent. She and Doc were like two ships that continuously passed in the night, sharing a space, but having nothing but a working relationship. Doc had been there those first months when she couldn’t sleep and couldn’t eat. He’d guided her through that, and he’d gotten her therapy when she needed more help than he could give. Now, she guided him by leaving him dinner in the fridge and not letting him despair without Mary.

  “Doc’s like the father I never had,” Emma explained.

  “Do you have any family?” James asked.

  “No. I’m an only child. My dad died when I was little. I don’t even really remember him. My mom was killed in a car accident while I was in college. She worked a straight job in a factory to help out with my college expenses, but she didn’t really have much. I have some pictures of her in my room, but that’s really all that was left after she died. I think that’s why I fell in love with this island so quickly. Everyone accepted me as if I was one of them, like family, really. It was nice to feel like a part of something.”

  James noticed the way she smiled during her explanation. “I kind of got taken with this island, too,” he said. What he didn’t say was that he was really taken with Emma. He would have stayed wherever she was, island, mainland, Antarctica, it didn’t matter.

  “Would you like something to drink while I take a shower?” Emma asked. “I could make some coffee.”

  “No, thanks.”

  She turned back to him slowly. “Do you think I have time for a short swim before we go?”

  James smiled. “Sure, but just a short one—ten minutes. Then a quick shower. If you’ll hand me that paper, I’ll read it while you swim.”

  She smiled, and there was more color in her cheeks, which had been paper-pale since he’d told her about Glenda. There was simply no way he could deny her a swim. Water was too important to her.

  He followed her through the house and waited while she changed into her suit. “Do you want to join me?” she offered. “I could find you a pair of Doc’s shorts to wear.”

  “Maybe some other time. You just enjoy yourself. Don’t waste your ten minutes.”

  James looked at the pool. It was surrounded by glass on three sides, which made up the sunroom, and was connected to the back of the house. The vertical blinds were open on all angles and allowed in all the light the dreary morning could offer. The room was long. It spanned the length of house. And because James had been involved with its planning—which Emma knew nothing about—he knew it was twelve feet wide. The pool was a long lap pool, wide enough for two, perhaps three people to pass one another as they swam laps. There were no steps at either end. One end merely sloped into the water. At the other end, where the depth reached nine feet, there was a diving board. In the middle, there was ladder on each side to climb in and out. Emma used the diving board, diving cleanly into the pool, and started on her first lap.

  Emma had added various potted plants to the room and a few folding patio chairs and lounge chairs. It was in one of these that James sat and pretended to read the newspaper. Just as he knew she swam a great deal out here, James also knew she sat out here often and read, losing herself in books and magazines.

  Her muscles toned, and her movements precise and experienced, she moved like a mermaid through the water. James watched her more than he noticed any of the printed words before him. Truth be told, he would have loved to join her. Yet, there were reasons why he should stay out. The warmth of her, the mere essence that flowed through her and made her the being, the woman, that she was, would be magnified in the water. He would feel part of her if he joined her in the water, even more strongly than if they were both naked. He knew it would be as if she wrapped herself around him. No, he couldn’t get into the water with her just yet. He had to think of keeping her safe. He had to come up with a plan to stop the vampire that held the island in his grip. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of dreaming of Emma.

  James took a deep breath and worked to calm the thousands of tiny fingers he felt fluttering through him. The room smelled of chlorine and water. James smelled it with each breath.

  He also smelled Emma.

  Under the flowery scent of her shampoo and soap that quickly washed away under the chlorine, he smelled the alluring outdoor, fresh scent of her. It called to him, beckoned to him, alerted him, just as a wolf would recognize his mate was close-by.

  James hated that there was fear back in her eyes, causing them to look like the unsettled water. It was just another reason for him to not leave her alone until this business was over once and for all. But it took every ounce of control he had not to take her up on her offer, climb into the pool and take her into his arms. Hell, he didn’t need her to find any of Doc’s extra shorts. He didn’t mind swimming with her in the buff.

  “James?”

  He looked up to find her at the side of the pool facing him, her elbows resting on the edge. “Yes?”

  Her hair was wet, appearing darker, and her eyes were large and round, appearing a deeper green, like glistening emeralds. He wished he could forget the danger, leave the world outside the glass walls, and simply join her in the water. They would swim the day away, forgetting there was a funeral in a few hours, forgetting that the people of the small island town depended on him to keep them safe, forgetting there was a killer close-by.

  “Remember when you said you thought there was a chance he’s been here on the island the whole time?” she as
ked softly, as if she were afraid to actually voice the question.

  “Yes, Doc and I talked about it, and we both thought it might be true. Why?”

  “I think it might be true, too.”

  James put the paper aside and leaned forward, drawing closer to her. “Why do you think that?”

  She looked down at her hands while she absently kicked and moved the water without splashing. “He used to talk to me.”

  For a long moment, James couldn’t reply. It was impossible to describe what passed through him—terror, rage, disbelief? A combination of all three? And hadn’t she said something about him talking to her before? Yes, she had, but James had been dwelling on a different part of the conversation. Now he couldn’t ignore it. “What?” Now the hair really was standing up on the back of his neck. It was nearly enough to cause him to shiver. He watched over her like a hawk. He would have known, would have seen, if someone else watched her too. Wouldn’t he?

  “I used to hear his voice,” she clarified.

  “In your nightmares?” That would make sense.

  “No—well, yes, of course in my nightmares, all the time. But I also heard him when I was awake.”

  James was going to spend eternity hunting this creature. And if it were possible, he would kill him slowly. He swallowed hard and worked to control his expression as well as mask his rage. “Can you explain that?”

  She shrugged as if it was nothing, but she still never met his gaze. “I used to think maybe I was just crazy. I mean, why wouldn’t I be a little crazy? After all, really crazy things happened that night five years ago.” She offered him a small grin. “Besides, after it was all over, when Doc and so many other people were busy picking up the pieces of what happened that night, hearing a few voices would be the least of my worries, right?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “But I really did hear things, like the time when Milton Spenser asked me out for dinner.”