He breathed in her scent as she stepped out of the car, let it permeate every fiber of his being. How had he ever existed without this woman in his life?
Her smile settled deep in his heart and made him think of things he had thought forever lost to him, things like a real home and a woman of his own.
She walked straight into his arms as if she had always belonged there. “Hi.”
“Hi, darlin’.”
Her eyelids fluttered down as she lifted her face for his kiss.
But a kiss wasn’t enough, would never be enough again.
Holding her close with one arm, he pulled down the security door, his need for her building with every breath.
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it upstairs,” he muttered, his voice gruff.
“I don’t care.”
“Damn.” He glanced around, seeking a place where he could lay her down. Grabbing an old blanket, he spread it on the floor, gently lowered her onto it, and followed her down.
She was as needy and greedy as he. Their clothing disappeared as if by magic and then she was in his arms, her heat warming him, chasing away the inner chill that had become a part of him with Mara’s bite.
He kissed her deeply, almost desperately, his hands delving into her hair, massaging her scalp.
She moaned softly, her body arching beneath his in silent invitation.
“Cara.” Knowing he had no right, he took her anyway, unable to resist the siren call of her sweetness or the sense of homecoming that engulfed him whenever she was in his arms.
Time slowed. The rest of the world faded away until there was nothing but the two of them reaching for that one moment when two bodies, two hearts, and two souls became one. It was, quite simply, magical, and over too soon.
Vince blew out a deep breath, and then he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her chin.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said with a grin.
“We do?”
She nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I think this cement is awfully hard, blanket or no blanket. From now on, let’s do it in a bed. Yours or mine, I don’t care.”
Relief washed through him. For a moment, he had been afraid she was telling him good-bye.
She laughed softly. “And preferably someplace where your cat can’t watch us.”
“What?”
She pointed toward her feet. Following her gaze, he saw Cat sitting at the edge of the blanket, watching them through unblinking yellow eyes.
Muttering, “Darn cat,” Vince sat up and drew Cara up beside him. His hand slid aimlessly up and down her back. He loved the silky feel of her hair, the heat of her skin, the musky scent of her.
She looked up at him, her head canted to one side. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, darlin’.”
“Have you ever heard of a vampire who was also a witch?”
He frowned. “No. Why? Have you?”
She hesitated a moment, then blurted, “I think my mother is a witch.”
“A witch and a vampire.” He whistled softly. “That’s a hell of a combination.”
“It’s not funny!”
“Am I laughing? What makes you think she’s a witch?”
Cara shrugged. “I’m probably just being silly, but every year for Halloween my father dressed in black and wore a long black cloak and my mother dressed as a witch…” She shook her head. “Never mind, it sounds silly.”
“But you think it’s true.”
She nodded. “How could I have been so blind for so many years? When I look back at my childhood, there were signs everywhere.”
“But you weren’t looking for them,” Vince pointed out.
“I know. The worst thing is, I miss them both.”
“Of course you do, darlin’. I think you should go and see them.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“I doubt if words will be necessary.”
“But I like living on my own and I know they’ll want me to move back home.”
“You won’t know that until you talk to them.” He gazed into the distance. “Don’t cut yourself off from your family if you don’t have to.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
“Will you go with me?”
“No, darlin’. I think this is something you have to do on your own.” Coward that he was, he didn’t want to be there if her parents convinced her that he was a vampire, didn’t want to see the hurt or the sense of betrayal in her eyes when she discovered the truth. And she would, sooner or later, he thought ruefully. He couldn’t hide his true nature from her forever. Guilt assailed him. He never should have let things go this far; he never should have made love to her, or let himself care.
But it was too late now.
Back at the library, Vince’s words kept running through Cara’s mind. Don’t cut yourself off from your family if you don’t have to. For the first time, it occurred to her that her parents had all the time in the world. Being mortal, she didn’t have that luxury. Did she want to waste even one more day being angry with the two people who loved her more than anyone else—two people that she loved in spite of everything?
Her decision made, she called Vince and told him she was going to visit her parents after work.
“You’re doing the right thing, darlin’,” he said.
She clung to that thought as she pulled out of the library parking lot later that night. Nearing her parents’ home, she was overcome with second thoughts and drove on by. What if Vince was wrong? What if it wasn’t as easy as he seemed to think it would be? She drove aimlessly for almost an hour; then, muttering, “this is ridiculous!” she drove back to her parents’ house.
It was with a sense of trepidation that she climbed the stairs and rang the bell.
A moment later, her father stood in the doorway. She had rarely seen him at a loss for words, but for a moment, he just stood there, staring at her.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Cara!” He swept her into his arms and held her tight.
“Roshan, who’s at the…?”
The sound of her mother’s voice brought tears to Cara’s eyes. Then her mother was hugging her, too, and Cara realized that Vince had been right again. There was no need for words, no need to apologize or explain.
“So, tell us,” her mother said a short time later when they were all seated in the living room. “How have you been? What have you been doing? What’s your new house like? Do you need anything?”
Warmth and belonging flooded Cara’s being. “I’m sure Di Giorgio has kept you up to date,” she said, but there was no censure in her voice. “Mostly, I’ve been working and decorating my place. I’d love for you and Dad to come and see it sometime.”
“Just name the day and we’ll be there.”
“How about Monday night?”
Brenna glanced at her husband, who nodded. “Shall we say ten o’clock?”
“Perfect,” Cara said.
“Di Giorgio tells us you’re spending a lot of time with Cordova,” her father said, his tone carefully neutral.
“Yes.”
“Is he the reason you’re here?”
“What do you mean?” Cara frowned. They couldn’t possibly know that Vince was the one who had convinced her to come here, could they?
“I thought maybe the fact that you’re dating a vampire had made you see your mother and me in a different light.”
“He’s not a vampire,” Cara said emphatically. “He can’t be. I’ve seen him during the day, working at his garage.”
Her mother and father exchanged glances but said nothing.
Cara took a deep breath. “Do you sleep in coffins?” The very idea creeped her out.
“No, dear,” her mother said. “We sleep in a king-size bed.”
“But you drink blood?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a witch, aren’t you?”
Brenna
’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who told you that?”
“No one. But it’s true, isn’t it?”
Needing support, Brenna reached for her husband’s hand. “Yes.”
“Maybe I’d better tell you the whole story,” her father said. “It will save a lot of time and questions.”
Cara listened, fascinated by the tale her father told her. She had thought that after learning her father and mother were vampires, nothing else could surprise her. She had been wrong. Her father was over three hundred years old. He had traveled back in time to save her mother from being burned at the stake by an angry mob. Later, both of her parents had been part of a horrible experiment conducted by a warlock. When her mother was close to death, her father had turned her into a vampire because he couldn’t bear the thought of going on without her. Then one night they had found a teenage girl giving birth in an alley…
It was a remarkable story. Had she heard it from anyone but her father, had she not been the baby born in that alley, she would never have believed a word of it.
“I don’t suppose you’d consider coming back home?” Brenna asked hesitantly.
Cara shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Seeing the hurt and disappointment in her mother’s eyes, Cara said quickly, “It’s not because of you or because of what you are, Mom, it’s just that I really like having my own place.”
“Because of Vince,” her father said.
“Partly,” Cara admitted. “But that’s not the only reason. It’s not that I don’t love the two of you, it’s just that, living here, I still feel like your little girl, and I’m not a little girl any longer.”
“You’ll always be our little girl,” her father said.
“Even when I’m old and gray and you’re not?” Cara laughed softly but without humor. “In a few years, people will think the two of you are my children.”
“Cara, sweetheart…”
“It’s all right, Mom. It just takes a little getting used to, you know?”
Brenna nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Cara had never seen her mother cry before and couldn’t help noticing that her mother’s tears were red. Roshan quickly handed his wife a handkerchief.
“I’d better go,” Cara said, rising.
“We’ll see you Monday night, Princess.”
“Right.” She hugged her father and her mother, kissed their cheeks. Had their skin always been so cool? “See you then.”
Leaving the house, she felt as if she were leaving the weight of the world behind. She could hardly wait to see Vince so she could tell him that he had been right.
She drove quickly to the garage, only to find that it was locked up tight. No lights shone in any of the windows, upstairs or down. She glanced at her watch. It was only eleven-thirty. Surely he wasn’t in bed already?
With a sigh of disappointment, she started to leave, then decided to wait a few minutes in hopes that he would return.
She turned off the headlights. Switching off the engine, she left the radio on, then leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes and her mind immediately filled with images of Vince bending over her, his dark eyes filled with desire. Images turned to vivid memories—the feel of his hands sliding over her bare skin, the taste of him, the sheer pleasure of his body melding with hers, his tongue dueling with hers, the husky sound of his voice as he whispered love words in her ear…
She spoke his name when the car door opened, a smile of welcome curving her lips as she opened her eyes and looked up.
Only it wasn’t Vince looking back at her.
Chapter 23
Cara stared at the man leering down at her through the window. He had spiked blond hair and a skull tattooed on one cheek. Four other, equally rough-looking young men stood behind him. Feeling like a rabbit caught in a trap, she stared back at them. Her first thought was that she was in big trouble, but then she remembered Di Giorgio. For a moment, the thought of her bodyguard comforted her—but only for a moment. Di Giorgio was good, but was he good enough to take on five men in their prime?
Even as the thought crossed her mind, Frank was there, gun in hand, demanding that the hoodlums move away from the car.
What happened next happened so fast, it was nothing but a blur. The five men all whirled around to face Di Giorgio. Moonlight and streetlights glinted on the guns and knives that appeared as if by magic in their hands.
She screamed as a hail of gunfire punctuated the quiet of the night.
One of the men fell back against the car, then slid to the ground. A second man collapsed on top of him. A third staggered away into the night, a dark stain spreading across the back of his shirt.
Another gunshot shattered the stillness of the night. Cara screamed Di Giorgio’s name as he stumbled backward, fell, and lay still.
The two remaining thugs were turning back toward her when a feral growl rose out of the darkness.
Cara peered out the window, but clouds had drifted across the moon and she couldn’t see anything clearly. Determined to defend herself or die trying, she opened the door and snatched up a gun one of the hoodlums had dropped, then closed the car door and locked it. She had never held a gun in her life or imagined herself in a situation where she would have to use one.
She looked out the window again, wondering what had happened to the remaining two men and if Di Giorgio was still alive. The street was eerily quiet and empty.
She had to get out of there, she thought frantically, but she couldn’t just drive off and leave Frank lying in the street. What to do, what to do? Go, she thought. Getting out of the car would be foolish when there were still three men out there somewhere in the dark. Once she was safely away, she could call 911.
She was fumbling with her car keys when a face appeared at the window.
A scream rose in her throat as she raised the gun, her finger curling around the trigger.
“Cara!”
Vince’s voice.
With a cry of relief, she dropped the gun on the passenger seat, opened the door, and practically fell into his arms.
“Are you all right?” His gaze moved over her. “Cara?”
“I’m…I’m fine. Di Giorgio…”
“He’s badly hurt. Open the back door. We need to get him to a doctor, pronto!”
She did as she was told, unable to stop the convulsive tremors that shook her from head to foot.
Vince settled Di Giorgio on the back seat, took one look at Cara’s pale face, and said, “I’ll drive.”
She didn’t argue. She put the gun on the floor and scrambled into the passenger seat. “What about the men that Di Giorgio shot? Are they dead?”
“The two in the street are dead,” Vince said flatly.
Cara glanced out the back window. “Three of them got away. I think one of them was wounded. Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“They didn’t get away.”
Cara stared at him. “But…”
“They’re all dead,” he said, and his voice was as cold and implacable as death itself.
Sinking back into the seat, Cara wrapped her arms around her middle, colder than she had ever been in her whole life. She wanted to ask how the men had died, but she was suddenly afraid of the answer.
When they reached the hospital, Di Giorgio was put on a stretcher and whisked away into surgery, leaving Cara to answer questions and fill out forms, only she lacked the information necessary. She realized then that, except for his name, she knew very little about the man who had watched over her for almost half of her life.
After saying, “I don’t know,” for the fifth time, she asked to use the phone and called her father.
“We’ll be there in five minutes,” Roshan said, and hung up.
They made it in four.
Leaving Brenna and Cara to take care of the paperwork, Roshan took Vince aside.
“What happened?” he asked curtly.
Vince shrugged. “I’m not sure. When I got home, I saw Cara’s car parked out front. Di Giorgio and fiv
e thugs were shooting it out. He got two of them. I got the other three.”
“Where are the bodies?”
“In the dumpster behind my garage. I’ll dispose of them when I get home.”
Roshan nodded, his admiration and respect for the younger vampire growing in spite of himself. “I owe you a debt for rescuing my daughter and saving Di Giorgio’s life.”
Vince shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Nevertheless, if you ever need anything, you have only to ask. In the meantime, you might want to go home and change your clothes.”
Frowning, Vince glanced down, surprised to see his shirtfront was splattered with blood—his own blood. He grunted softly. He’d been shot and hadn’t even realized it. Lifting his shirt, he saw that the wound was already healing. Even as he watched, all sign of the injury disappeared. He stared at it in astonishment. He knew he healed quickly. He often got minor scrapes and cuts at work, but having a gunshot heal in minutes was nothing short of miraculous.
He looked up as Cara appeared at his side. Her eyes widened when, for the first time, she noticed the blood on his shirt.
“You’re hurt!” she exclaimed.
“No.” He removed his shirt and tossed it in a nearby trash container. “It isn’t my blood.” He didn’t like lying to her, but there was no other way to explain it. She would never believe he had been shot and healed in the same night. He could hardly believe it himself.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her face almost as white as the walls. “I think I’m going to…”
“Faint,” he finished for her, and caught her in his arms as she pitched forward.
“I’m going to go check on Di Giorgio,” Roshan said. “I trust you’ll look after Cara until I return?”
Vince nodded. Cradling Cara against his chest, he sat down on a puke green plastic chair. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have cared if Di Giorgio lived or died, but the bodyguard had been wounded trying to protect Cara, and for that, Vince owed the man a life debt. As for the five thugs, Vince didn’t know who they were or what their intentions toward Cara had been. They might have intended to do nothing more than rob her or steal her car, but it didn’t matter. They had accosted her, frightened her, and for that, he had killed the surviving three men.
Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02] Page 15
