“How do you know?” she asked. “You’ve never had kids before.”
“Ah, but I have nieces and nephews, and I babysat for all of them,” he said with a wink. “You’re doing a great job.”
She basked in his praise.
As he said, the time came when the babies ate less and finally slept through the night.
Cara spent hours on the phone with Bethy, exchanging recipes and bragging about how smart their children were.
Roshan and Brenna came to visit several times a week, but tonight, Cara had wanted to get out of the house and they had gone to visit her parents.
About nine o’clock, the babies fell asleep on her parents’ bed.
“Honestly,” Brenna said, glancing from one sleeping child to the other, “they just get more beautiful all the time.”
“More handsome,” Roshan said. “Boys are handsome.”
“Ordinary boys are handsome,” Brenna said. “Our boys are beautiful. Come now, let’s let them sleep,” she said. “They’ll be awake again soon enough.”
Downstairs, Roshan picked up the remote and turned on the TV. He was flipping through the channels when the image of a vampire appeared on the screen.
“Not that old thing,” Cara said.
“What’s the matter?” Vince asked, tweaking her nose. “Don’t you like vampires?”
“Not old black-and-white ones. That movie’s older than dirt.”
“But always good for a laugh,” her father said.
Resigned, Cara settled back on the sofa. She laughed in spite of herself as her father and Vince made jokes about the campy settings and the stilted dialogue. She was about to go into the kitchen for a soda when her parents and Vince went suddenly still.
“What is it?” Cara asked. “Are the babies crying?”
Vince looked at Roshan. “Do you feel that?”
Roshan nodded.
“I do, too,” Brenna said. “There’s black Magick in the air.”
Vince went to the door, but when he turned the knob, nothing happened.
“What’s going on?” Cara looked at her father, then at Vince, and felt their tension communicate itself to her.
She watched in growing horror as Vince and her father went from room to room, trying all the windows and doors.
“They won’t open,” Vince said, his voice hard and flat. “None of them.”
“It’s a spell of some kind, meant to seal us in,” Brenna said. “I can almost taste it.”
Cara started to ask who would do such a thing, but she knew.
They all knew.
“Why would Anton want to seal us inside?” Cara asked. “I don’t understand…” She broke off as the smell of smoke teased her nostrils, shrieked when the carpet beneath her feet burst into flame.
“My babies!” she cried, and ran up the stairs to her parents’ room, her heart pounding. The house was on fire and there was no way out!
Vince looked at Roshan and Brenna and knew they were thinking the same thing. One sure way to destroy the Undead was by fire, and this was no ordinary fire. As he followed Brenna and Roshan upstairs, he noticed that the fire didn’t touch the walls; only the contents inside the house were burning. Pausing on the landing, he watched the sofa explode into flames. Thick smoke rose in the air, and with it the stink of brimstone. Anton had summoned hellfire.
He thought of Cara and his sons. If he couldn’t find a way to get them out of here, they would soon suffocate, which might be a blessing, he thought morbidly, and wondered if the smoke would render him unconscious, as well, or if all the vampires in the house would be cognizant when the flames found them.
In minutes, the living room was a sheet of flames.
“We’re running out of time,” Roshan said. “Brenna, can’t you counteract the spell?”
“Maybe, if I knew what kind of spell it was.”
Vince muttered an oath. Dissolving into mist, he floated up the fireplace chimney, thinking perhaps they could get out that way. No such luck. Bouchard, the bastard, had thought of everything.
Materializing again, Vince paced the floor, his mind racing. There had to be a way out!
The smoke was getting thicker now. The floor beneath his feet grew hot, hotter.
Roshan picked up a chair and threw it against the window. The window shook but didn’t break.
“Let’s try ramming it together,” Vince said. “On three. One, two, three!”
Together, Vince and Roshan slammed their shoulders against the window. Again, nothing happened.
Vince swore softly. For the first time since becoming a vampire, he felt totally helpless. He looked at Cara and his children. Would the smoke render his family unconscious before the flames reached them? He knew the end would be quick for himself and Cara’s parents. The flames would destroy them in an instant. But Cara, and his sons…In his mind’s eye, he saw them in flames, heard their anguished screams as the fire licked their skin, their hair.
He looked at Roshan and knew that his father-in-law was thinking the same thing.
“Do what you have to do,” Roshan said quietly; and then, squaring his shoulders, Roshan went to Brenna. Murmuring, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to save you from the flames this time,” he drew her into his embrace.
She looked up at him, her expression serene, her eyes filled with love. “We’ve had a good life together. I have no regrets.”
Vince returned to Cara’s side. She stood in a corner away from the door and the windows, a crying infant cradled in each arm.
She looked up at him, her face pale and scared. “What are we going to do?”
“I won’t let you suffer,” he said. “I won’t let the flames take you or our sons.”
She stared at him, her eyes growing wide as she understood what he was saying, and she nodded.
Wrapping his arms around his wife and children, he murmured, “Whatever happens, remember that I will always love you, whether in this life or the next.”
Anton stood across the street. He stared unblinking at the DeLongpre house, his whole being focused on maintaining the spell that would destroy the people who had killed his father and his mother.
It was Dark Magick at its most powerful. If only his mother could see him now, he thought. She would be so proud of him. Only a few wizards in all the world had mastered hellfire, and now he was one of them.
Sweat beaded his brow and dripped down his back. Only a few more minutes and it would be over. His parents would be avenged. He could get on with his life.
No smoke escaped the house to alert the neighbors. Even if someone called the fire department, it wouldn’t matter. They couldn’t get in. No one could get in—and no one could get out.
Only a few more minutes and the whole inside of the house would be in flames. When that happened, the house would explode.
Only a few more minutes.
He heard a noise to his right, felt his concentration waver as it came again.
He blinked when a woman stepped in front of him.
“Nice night for a fire,” she said. “Too bad I didn’t bring any marshmallows.”
When she smiled, her fangs were very white.
He didn’t have time to scream as she sank them into his throat.
His spell died with him.
The fires went out as quickly as they had started. Cara clutched her babies closer. Had she imagined the whole awful incident?
She looked up at Vince. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I think maybe the cavalry is here.”
She stared at him askance as he took Raphael from her arms and then followed Roshan and Brenna out of the bedroom. They stopped on the landing.
The staircase was gone. Nothing remained of the first floor but the walls, the fireplace, and the foundation.
Brenna took Rane, Roshan took Raphael, Vince swung Cara into his arms, and they all floated down to the first floor. The cement was surprisingly cool beneath their feet.
Moments later, the front door opened seemingly of its own accord.
Cara stared at the woman who entered the house. She knew, somehow, that it was the vampire who had named her children. Vince confirmed it when he greeted the woman.
“Thanks, Mara,” he said fervently. “I thought we were goners.”
“I couldn’t let anything happen to my godsons, now could I?”
“No,” Vince said, remembering how she had tasted the blood of his sons so she would know where and how they were. “I guess not.”
“I brought you a present,” she said. “I left it in the back yard. You might want to dispose of it before anyone sees it.”
Roshan stepped forward and bowed over Mara’s hand. “If there’s ever anything we can do for you…”
Mara dismissed his thanks with a wave of her hand. “Just take good care of my boys,” she said, her gaze lingering on Vince’s face. “All of them.”
Gliding across the room, she kissed each baby in turn, and then she smiled at Vince. “I’ll be around,” she said, and vanished from sight.
Cara looked at Vince. “How did she know we were in trouble?”
“I’ll explain it to you later,” he promised.
“Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry about your house,” Cara said. “You can stay with us while you rebuild.”
“I don’t think we will rebuild,” her father said. “We’ve stayed here too long as it is. We should have moved a long time ago.”
“Move?” Cara exclaimed. “You’re going to move?”
“Not far,” Roshan assured her. “Just to the next town, where no one knows us.”
“But what about this house?”
“We’ll tear it down and sell the land.”
Cara shook her head. “But where will you spend the day tomorrow?”
“Don’t worry about us,” Brenna said with a wink. “We’ll find a place. Here, take Rane.”
Cara took Rane from her mother and Vince took Raphael from Roshan. “But…” Cara shook her head. Everything was happening so fast!
“Ready, love?” Roshan asked, taking Brenna by the hand.
“Ready.” Brenna smiled at her daughter. “Don’t worry about us,” she repeated. “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Cara nodded as she watched her parents dissolve into mist and drift away. There were some things she didn’t think she would ever get used to.
“I still don’t understand how Mara knew we were in trouble,” Cara remarked.
“Like I said, I’ll explain it all to you later,” Vince said. “But for now, let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Two years later
Cara sat in front of the fireplace, watching her sons roll around on the floor like two feisty puppies. Much had happened since the night of the fire. Vince had disposed of Anton’s body. The insurance company had been reluctant to pay her parents’ claim since they could find no cause for the fire but, in the end, they had come through.
Her father had razed what was left of the house and her parents had moved in with her and Vince until they had found a new home.
She often found herself watching her boys, looking for signs that they had inherited a lust for blood from their father, but as near as she could tell, they were just normal kids. She held her breath each time she took them to the doctor, fearing their pediatrician would find something wrong, but thus far, he had found nothing out of the ordinary.
Now, watching her sons play, she found herself yearning for another baby. Because they didn’t know if she could get pregnant again or not, they had been using a contraceptive.
But not tonight, she thought.
She put the boys to bed early, showered, and shaved her legs.
When Vince came home from work, she met him at the door wearing a smile and a whisper of black silk.
He whistled softly, then swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs where he fulfilled her every desire.
Here’s an excerpt from
Amanda Ashley’s next novel,
HIS DARK EMBRACE,
available from Zebra Books in February 2008.
Shannah had followed him every night for the last four months. At first, she hadn’t been sure why, other than the fact that she was dying and out of a job and had nothing better to do.
She remembered the first time she had seen him. She had been sitting by the back window in the Potpourri Café across the street from the town’s only movie theater. She had been sipping a cup of hot chocolate when she had seen him emerge from the theater. It had been in October, near Halloween, and the theater had been running classic vampire movies all month, showing a different movie each night of the week. The old Bela Lugosi version of Dracula had been playing that night.
The stranger had been wearing a long black duster over snug black jeans and a black T-shirt. With his long black hair, her first thought was that he could have been a vampire himself except that his skin was a dusky brown instead of deathly pale. A wannabe vampire, obviously. She knew there was a whole cult of them in the city, men and women who frequented Goth clubs. They wore black clothes and capes. Some of them wore fake fangs and pretended to drink blood. She had heard of some who didn’t pretend, but actually drank blood. Others role-played on the Internet in vampire and Goth chat rooms.
Shannah had been sitting by the window in that same café when she saw the stranger the second time. He hadn’t been coming out of the movie theater that night, merely strolling down the street, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, which were black again. During the next few weeks, she saw him walking down the same street at about the same time almost every night, which she supposed wasn’t really all that strange. After all, she went to the same café and sat at the same booth in the back at about the same time every night.
One evening, simply for something to do, she left the café and followed him, curious to see where he went. She followed him the next night, and the next. And suddenly it was a habit, a way to spend the long, lonely nights when she couldn’t sleep. Sometimes he merely walked through the park across from City Hall. Sometimes he sat on one of the benches, as unmoving and silent as the bronze statue of the town’s founding father that was located near the center of the park.
While following the man in the long black duster, she learned that he went to the movies every Wednesday evening and always sat in the last row. He wandered through the mall on Friday nights. He spent Saturday nights in the local pub, invariably sitting in the shadows in the far corner. He always ordered a glass of red wine, which he never finished. Other than the wine, she never saw him eat or drink anything. He never bought popcorn or candy at the movies. He never bought a soda or a cup of coffee or a hot dog in the mall.
When she followed him home, she learned that he lived in an old but elegant two-story house at the edge of town. The house had bars on the windows and a security screen door, and was surrounded by a block wall that must have been twelve feet high, complete with an impressive wrought iron gate. She wondered what he was hiding in there and spent untold hours pondering who and what he might be. A drug lord? An arms dealer? Some sort of international spy? A reclusive millionaire? A serial killer? A mad scientist? A terrorist? Her imagination knew no bounds.
The holidays came and went. He didn’t go to visit family for Thanksgiving, and no one came to visit him. As far as she could see, he didn’t celebrate Christmas. No tinsel-laden tree appeared in the large front window. No colorful lights adorned his house. He didn’t go out to celebrate the new year. But then, neither did she. As far as she knew, he didn’t buy flowers or candy on Valentine’s Day, nor did he go to visit a lady friend. He was a handsome man—tall, dark, and handsome—which begged the questions, why wasn’t he married, or at least dating? Perhaps he was in mourning. Perhaps that was why he always wore black. Then again, maybe he wore it because it looked so good on him.
She camped out in the woods across from his house three or four times a week, weather permitting, but she never saw him
emerge during the day. He took a daily newspaper, but he never picked it up until after the sun went down. The same with his mail. He never had any visitors. He never had pizza delivered. No repairmen ever came to call.
She wasn’t sure when she started to think he really was some kind of vampire, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. He only came out at night. He lived alone. He didn’t eat. He always wore black. He never had any visitors. She never saw him with anyone else because…
He was a vampire.
Vampires lived forever and were supposed to be able to pass immortality on to others.
Ergo, he was the only one who could help her.
All she needed now was the courage to approach him. But how? And when? And what would she say?
It was the first of March when she finally worked up enough courage to put intention into action. Tomorrow night, she decided resolutely. She would ask him tomorrow night.
But, just in case he refused her or she changed her mind at the last minute, she armed herself with a small bottle of holy water stolen from the Catholic Church on the corner of Main Street, wondering, briefly, if stolen holy water would retain its effectiveness. She found a small gold crucifix and chain that had belonged to her favorite aunt. She fashioned a wooden stake out of the handle of an old broom. She filled the pockets of her coat and jeans with cloves of garlic.
That should do it, she thought, patting her coat pocket. If he was agreeable, by this time tomorrow night she would be Undead. If he decided to make a meal of her instead of transforming her, she would just be dead a few weeks earlier than the doctors had predicted.
If you loved this Amanda Ashley book,
then you won’t want to miss any of
her other fabulous vampire stories
from Zebra Books!
Following is a sneak peak…
DEAD SEXY
The city is in a panic. In the still of the night,
a viscious killer is leaving a trail of
Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02] Page 30
