Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02]

by Night's Touch

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  She looked at him as if he wasn’t too bright. “Hello? That creature is still out there, you know, and Mom seems to think Anton might be a threat, too.”

  Vince followed Cara into the living room, admiring the sway of her hips and the way the lamplight shone in the wealth of her hair.

  “She’s probably right.” He suspected the real reason Brenna wanted Cara to stay home was to keep the two of them from “going any further.”

  Cara sat on the sofa, then looked up at him expectantly.

  He sat beside her, drawn by her warmth, the glow in her eyes, the seductive smile playing over her lips. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was, or how hard it was for him to resist her? Even now, it was all he could do to keep from dragging her into his arms, brushing her hair away from her neck, and tasting the sweetness pulsing through her veins. She attracted him on so many levels—her beauty, her intelligence, her ready smile. With her, he felt whole, complete. Loved. He closed his eyes. How could he leave her? Even if he lived as long as Mara, he knew he would never again find anyone like Cara.

  “Vince? Is something wrong?”

  He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her brow furrowed with concern.

  “No, darlin’. How could anything be wrong when I’m here with you?”

  She batted her eyelashes at him. “Why, sir,” she said in a mock Southern accent, “you do say the sweetest things.”

  “And you, miss, are the most enchanting female I’ve ever known.”

  His voice moved over her like a velvet caress. “Vince…”

  “Come here, darlin’.”

  She scooted closer, her eyelids fluttering down as his mouth found hers. In moments, she was lying on her side on the sofa, his body aligned with hers, their legs entwined. He kissed her as if he could never get enough, as if he needed her as much as the air he breathed, as if his very survival depended on her. It was a heady sensation.

  His hands caressed her with tender urgency and she drew him closer, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against hers. Heat unfurled deep within her, spreading outward, warming her, arousing her until the rest of the world fell away and there was only this man, this moment.

  She murmured his name, begging him to carry her upstairs, to make love to her all through the night.

  “Ah, darlin’,” he replied, his voice ragged, “I’d like nothing better.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?”

  “We’re not alone,” he reminded her.

  “Then let’s go to your place.”

  “I thought you promised your mother you’d stay here?”

  “I did, but…” She pressed her face against his chest. “I want you so much.”

  It was tempting, but he wasn’t about to put her life at risk. He wasn’t afraid of Anton. He could destroy the weasel with a look, but he wasn’t so sure about the creature inhabiting Anthony Loken’s body. Vince blew out a sigh. Against mortals, he was nearly invincible. Against a creature raised from the dead…he didn’t know, and he didn’t intend to find out, not if it put Cara’s life at risk.

  She stared up at him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her breathing uneven. He could smell himself on her, smell her need, her desire.

  “Please, Vince?”

  Damn! How could he refuse her when he wanted her as much as she wanted him?

  For a moment, he was tempted to pull her into his arms and carry her to his place, creature or no creature. After all, though she didn’t know it, this was to be their last night together. Coward that he was, this time he was going to kiss her good-bye and walk out of her life forever. For a moment, his yearning warred with his good sense. In the end, his good sense won out. Leaving Cara again was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done, but she had no place in his world. He couldn’t be certain that he would always be in control of his hunger or his lust, and if anything happened to her because of him, because of what he was…

  Muttering an oath, Vince sat up, his body aching with need. Keeping a tight rein on his desire, he took Cara into his arms again. With his fingertips, he stroked the soft curve of her cheek, the wealth of her hair, the sweet temptation of her lower lip.

  “You know that I love you, don’t you?” he murmured.

  “You do?”

  “More than I’ve ever loved anyone, or anything.”

  “Oh, Vince…I love you, too!”

  “I know.” He rained kisses on her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead, the tempting swath of warm skin beneath her ear. The hunger rose within him, whispering for him to take her now, take it all, even as his desire urged him to bury himself in her sweetness one last time.

  “Vince, let’s go upstairs…”

  Ah, love, he thought, if only I dared. But as much as he wanted her, needed her, he couldn’t take her here, under her father’s roof. He couldn’t make love to her knowing he intended to leave her once again with no explanation, only this time it would be for good.

  He kissed her and caressed her until her eyelids grew heavy.

  “Go to bed, darlin’,” he said, lifting her to her feet.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she murmured drowsily.

  “And I don’t want to go,” he said, “but it’s late and you’re half asleep.”

  “No, I’m not,” she protested, smothering a yawn.

  Vince laughed softly. “Go to bed, darlin’, and dream of me.”

  With a sleepy sigh, she lifted her face for one more kiss.

  “Good night, my love,” he whispered, though it wasn’t good night, but good-bye. He held her close, knowing it was for the last time, and then he let her go.

  He walked out of the house, a great emptiness in his chest where his heart had been.

  Sliding behind the wheel of the Mustang, he backed out of the driveway, then headed for a deserted stretch of highway. Putting the pedal to the metal, he pushed the car as fast as it would go. He was doing the right thing and he knew it, but dammit, why did it have to be so hard and hurt so damn much? She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He had lost his humanity; he shouldn’t have to lose the only woman he had ever loved, or would ever love, as well.

  Of course, he wasn’t leaving town just yet. He would hang around until the creature was no longer a threat to Cara’s safety, but he wouldn’t see or speak to Cara again. It was for her own good, he told himself, and for his, as well.

  But he didn’t have to like it.

  Chapter 36

  The creature stirred with the coming of night. Disoriented and confused, it wandered through the house, oblivious to the foul stench rising from the bodies piled in a careless heap in a corner of the living room floor.

  Anton woke with a start. He had spent most of the last twelve hours searching for an enchantment that would allow him to summon and then control the creature his mother had raised. Rubbing his eyes, he stared at the book on the floor in front of him. If he remembered right, there had been an incantation on one of the pages that had sounded promising, but he had fallen asleep before he finished reading it.

  Picking up the book, he thumbed through the pages again. Where was it? Ah! There it was.

  Following the directions, he fashioned an altar from an old wooden crate and placed a photograph of his father on it, along with his father’s wand and a cloak he found in his mother’s closet.

  Next, he found a box of salt and drew a summoning circle on the floor; then, using his own wand, he wove a strong protective spell around the circle. He added lavender, cinnamon, and wormwood to the center, as well as a sliver of wood shaved from his father’s wand.

  When that was done, he took a piece of chalk and drew a second protective circle on the floor a few feet away from the first.

  Then, taking a deep breath, he picked up a small silver bell and spoke the necessary words.

  “Wandering spirit, blood of my blood, come to me now as this bell I ri
ng, come to me now as this bell I ring, come to me now as this bell I ring.”

  He waited, listening.

  When nothing happened, he repeated the charm again, and then again.

  In the dark house on the hill, the creature that inhabited Anthony Loken’s body paused in its restless wandering. Lifting its head, it turned this way and that and then it left the house, following an invocation only it could hear.

  It was coming! Anton felt the creature’s nearness in the very marrow of his bones. In his hand, the wand began to vibrate.

  Filled with excitement and trepidation, Anton stepped into the protective circle he had drawn, his gaze riveted on the basement door.

  He heard the front door open upstairs. Footsteps moved across the floor, down the stairs, and then the creature was there, walking toward him. As soon as it stepped into the center of the summoning circle, Anton spoke the words to close the circle and bind the incantation.

  The creature stood there, arms hanging at its sides, soulless eyes staring at him, waiting.

  Feeling weak, Anton could only stare back. The zombie was here, called at his command. But would it do his bidding?

  “Raise your right hand.”

  The creature stared at him a moment, then, slowly, raised its right hand.

  Damn! A thrill of power ran through Anton. “Lower your hand.”

  Again, the creature obeyed.

  Mindful of the creature watching his every move, Anton fought down a rush of exultant laughter. The creature was his to command at his will.

  At last, he had the means to avenge the deaths of his mother and father.

  Revenge would be his at last.

  Chapter 37

  Frank Di Giorgio was waiting for Cara when she entered the kitchen the following morning.

  “I’ll be driving you wherever you want to go again today,” he said.

  Cara nodded. She didn’t have to ask why. The creature was still out there somewhere. She hoped it had left town, then felt guilty for doing so. Who knew what havoc it might cause in another city? Then again, maybe they were all worrying for nothing. For all they knew, it might be harmless now that Serafina was dead.

  Cara fixed breakfast for herself and Frank, put the dishes in the dishwasher, left a quick note for her mother, and grabbed her handbag.

  Di Giorgio followed her outside and held the door to the Lexus open for her. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Vince’s.”

  Cara stared out the window as Di Giorgio pulled out of the driveway. She had spent a sleepless night tossing and turning as she replayed Vince’s leave-taking in her mind, unable to shake the feeling that he hadn’t been saying good night but good-bye. She told herself she was wrong, that he wouldn’t walk out of her life like that again, but she didn’t believe it. She was certain he was hiding something from her, but what?

  She was out of the car before it came to a full stop, a surge of relief sweeping through her when she saw that the security door was open. He was still here! Chiding herself for her foolish fears, she hurried inside, only to come to an abrupt halt when she saw that his car was gone. Then she noticed that his big red toolbox was also missing, and that Cat wasn’t curled up on a corner of the desk.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  Cara stared at the man walking toward her. He wore a pair of overalls and carried a paintbrush in one hand. “Who are you?”

  “Max Felton; I own this building.”

  “I’m looking for Vince Cordova,” she said, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Vince, yeah. He called me late last night and said he was moving out and he wouldn’t be back.” The man shook his head. “I got here around seven this morning and he was already gone. He must have taken off in the middle of the night.”

  “Do you know where he went?”

  “Sorry, I sure don’t.”

  She swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “Did he leave any messages for anyone?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Thank you.” Feeling as though her heart was breaking, she walked back to the car.

  Di Giorgio was there to open the door for her. “Where to now?”

  “Just take me home. My home,” she clarified.

  With a nod, Di Giorgio closed the door.

  Cara stared out the window, scarcely aware of anything around her. He was really gone this time, with no good-bye and no hope of her ever seeing him again. This time it was final; she felt it in the deepest part of her being.

  A short time later, Di Giorgio pulled up in front of her place. Opening the door, he handed her out of the car and followed her up the walkway and into the house. He went from room to room, making sure everything was as it should be.

  “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he said.

  Cara nodded. She felt suddenly old and dried up, as if all the life had been sucked out of her body.

  Frank patted her shoulder, his eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  She nodded again, too numb to speak. All she could think of was that Vince had left her. Again. Only this time it was for good. She moved woodenly through the house, watering her wilted plants, dusting the furniture, vacuuming the carpets, and all the while, the words, “he’s gone, he’s gone,” repeated themselves in her mind over and over again.

  After putting the vacuum away, she went into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. She stared at the floor, more unhappy than she had ever been in her life, hardly aware of the tears that trickled down her cheeks.

  Vince was gone and nothing else mattered.

  Frank Di Giorgio stretched his arms over his head, then checked his watch. It was a quarter past three. Cara had been inside for almost four hours. He wondered what she was doing in there now. The last time he had looked in on her, she had been vacuuming; that had been almost an hour ago. She was a sweet thing. Too bad life had handed her such a raw deal. Of course, there were those who would think she had it pretty easy. She lived in a big house, she had lots of money, and enough clothes for a passel of females. Still, it couldn’t be easy, having vampires for parents.

  Rising, he stretched the kinks from his back and shoulders, then decided to take a turn around the yard to stretch his legs.

  He paused when he reached her bedroom window. Moving closer, he listened but heard nothing. Maybe she was asleep.

  He had just reached the corner of the house when the short hairs prickled along the back of his neck. Drawing his gun, he spun around, his finger on the trigger.

  For a split second, Frank and the creature stared at each other, and then Frank pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the creature in the heart, but it had no visible effect. Frank fired again and yet again.

  He was about to pull the trigger a fourth time when Anton stepped out from behind the creature and, with a flick of his wand, sent the gun flying out of Di Giorgio’s hand.

  With a guttural cry, Frank lunged toward Anton.

  And then everything went black.

  She was dreaming. Vince had come for her and he was carrying her away. Smiling, she tried to wrap her arms around his neck, only her arms wouldn’t move. Frowning, she tried again, but to no avail.

  Opening her eyes, she saw the creature staring down at her.

  Cara screamed and screamed again, trying to wake herself up.

  And then, to her horror, she realized she wasn’t asleep.

  She closed her eyes and opened them again, but the creature was still there, staring down at her, its eyes empty of feeling, of life. There were three neat holes in its white shirt. It took her a moment to realize they were bullet holes. A living man would have been bleeding or dead, but the creature wasn’t alive, nor was it Undead, like her parents. It was…she didn’t know what it was. Anton stood beside the thing that had been his father, his face impassive as he watched her.

  She tried to move, only then realizing that she was in what looked like a basement and that she was lying on the
floor, her hands and feet bound behind her.

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Anton said.

  “Wh…what do you mean?” She hated the quiver in her voice, the way her body shook with fear.

  “I promised my mother I would avenge my father’s death, and now I must avenge her, as well, thanks to you.”

  “Where are we?”

  “My father’s house.”

  “Where are the people who lived here?” she asked, certain she wasn’t going to like the answer.

  He glanced toward the far corner.

  Cara followed his gaze, her stomach churning when she realized that what looked like a pile of smelly clothing covered by a sheet was in reality the house’s former occupants. “You killed them?”

  “No, I’m afraid the creature did that.” He smiled. “It seems fitting, don’t you think? My father died here, at your father’s hands, and now you’ll die here, at my father’s hands.” He laughed softly, maniacally. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

  She was cold, so cold, and it had nothing to do with the cement floor beneath her. She was going to die, here, in this place, and there was no one to save her this time, no one who even knew where she was. “Please…”

  “I’ll be back when it’s over.”

  “Anton! Please! Wait! Please, don’t do this!”

  But it was too late. He was gone and she was alone with a monster.

  Vince prowled the confines of the room he had rented, his agitation growing with every passing minute as he waited for darkness to shroud the land. Cat sat on the windowsill, regarding him through unblinking yellow eyes.

  For the last hour, Vince had tried to summon Cara’s image and come up empty. The fact that he couldn’t find her, couldn’t sense her, filled him with quiet terror. Did it mean she was too far away? Unconscious? Or…he refused to consider the possibility that something had happened to her. And yet what other reason could there be?

  It was not yet sunset when Vince left the house. The last rays of the sun singed his skin, but he paid no heed to the pain as he traveled with preternatural speed toward the DeLongpre’s house.