Everlasting Desire

by Amanda Ashley

  Rhys swore softly as the scent of the hunter’s blood drifted on the breeze. He needed blood to heal the wounds the bastard had inflicted, but drinking from the dead, even the newly dead, was distasteful.

  But there was fresh prey nearby. Moving through the shadows, he found a couple of teenaged boys sitting off by themselves, sharing a joint.

  They looked up when they saw him, their expressions showing first surprise and then fear as he drew closer. Fear that turned to terror when they realized they couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

  Rhys took what he needed, wiped the memory of what had happened from their minds, then slipped into the shadows, enjoying a mild high from the drug in their blood.

  He had to see Megan. Even knowing that she would recoil from his presence, he had to see her again. She knew him for what he was now, and the knowledge had horrified her. He had seen the revulsion in her eyes before she fled the scene. Not that he blamed her for taking off. Hadn’t he told her to go? Of course, she was a smart girl, and, considering what she had seen, she likely would have run anyway.

  A thought took him to her house, another to her bedside.

  She slept with a light on. After what she had been through that night, he wasn’t surprised. For a moment, he could only stand there, thinking how beautiful she was, her red gold hair as soft as silk, her skin the color of rich cream, her lips, pink and perfect and slightly parted.

  Curious to know what she dreamed of, he let his mind brush hers.

  She was dreaming that they were walking along the beach arm in arm. In her dream, he wasn’t a vampire.

  “Megan.”

  “Rhys?” Still caught up in her dream, she smiled—until she opened her eyes and saw him standing beside the bed. Suddenly wide awake, she bolted upright, the sheet clutched to her breasts as if it would protect her, the smile on her face fading, the color draining from her cheeks. “How can you be here? I thought…that man…he shot you. I saw him drive a stake into your back.”

  He shrugged. “As you can see, I’m fine.” He clenched his hands at his sides. He could hear her heart beating wildly, taste the fear that tainted her skin. “Dammit, stop looking at me like that!”

  His anger stoked her own. “I’m sorry if I’m scared, but what do you expect? It’s not every day I see a man killed in front of me. Almost killed.” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “Whatever! Why didn’t you tell me what you were? What you are.”

  “Maybe because I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes.”

  Her gaze slid away from his.

  “You’ve nothing to fear from me,” he said, his voice gruff. “I only came to make certain you were all right.”

  Still not looking at him, she murmured, “I’m sorry I ran away.”

  “What the hell do you have to be sorry about? I told you to go.”

  “I should have stayed.”

  He laughed softly. “And done what?”

  She looked up at him then, her gaze meeting his. “What did you do to that man?”

  “Just exactly what you think I did.”

  “You killed him.” It wasn’t a question. “Did you…?”

  “No.”

  She looked surprised. “Why not?”

  “I prefer it warm.” His gaze moved to the hollow of her throat. “And fresh.”

  If possible, her face went even paler.

  “I won’t bother you anymore. I just came by to make sure you got home all right. Good-bye, Megan.”

  He didn’t wait for her to reply. Calling on his preternatural power, he vanished from her sight.

  For a moment, he stood on the sidewalk below her window. She was lost to him now, that was for damn sure. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that it was just as well, and failed miserably. He had never intended to fall in love with her. Perhaps he should have told her the truth, he thought, and then shook his head. Had he done so, he would have just lost her sooner. His one regret was that she had seen him at his worst.

  One regret, he thought bleakly. Hell, he had a million of them.

  Muttering an oath, he went in search of prey.

  Chapter 21

  Megan spent Monday morning curled up on the sofa. She felt numb inside, as if her body had lost the ability to feel. She had no appetite, no desire to get dressed. No desire to do anything. Shirl had offered to stay home from work, but Megan had said thanks, but no thanks. All she wanted was to be alone with her grief. Rhys was alive, she thought, and let out a harsh laugh. Not alive, but Undead. Either way, he was lost to her.

  She replayed his last visit over and over again, wishing it had ended differently, wishing…what? That she had asked him to stay? That she had told him his being a vampire didn’t matter? If only it didn’t!

  She blinked back her tears. How could she have fallen in love with a vampire? Let him kiss her? Make love to her? How could she not have known what he was? Maybe she had. Maybe her initial fear and distrust had been some innate sense of self-preservation, a warning she had refused to heed. But honestly, who knew vampires were real? Sure, in the last few weeks there had been stories on the nightly news that hinted at such things, but no one took such stories seriously. You couldn’t believe everything you heard on the news. Vampires terrorizing New York and Los Angeles? Yeah, right. Who could worry about mythical creatures when there were so many real monsters roaming the streets, gunning down innocent women and children, kidnapping college kids while they were on spring break, raping children.

  Heartsick and depressed, she slept most of the day away. But there was no escaping Rhys in her dreams, either…

  He came to her, an apparition dressed all in black, his dark blond hair glowing like a halo in the darkness. His voice whispered over her skin like a caress.

  “Megan.” Just her name, filled with such longing it brought quick tears to her eyes.

  “Rhys. I wish…”

  He covered her mouth with his hand. “Don’t say it. I can’t change what I am. I can’t give you the life you deserve. I only wanted to make love to you one last time.”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t real.”

  His gaze burned into hers. “It’s as real as you want it to be.”

  And because she wanted to hold him, love him, she closed her eyes and surrendered to his touch. His hands glided over her body, each stroke a symphony played by a master musician. She clung to him, wanting to be closer, closer, to believe it was more than a dream.

  She shivered when his tongue slid along the tender flesh below her ear, moaned softly as his teeth grazed her skin.

  He was biting her! For one endless moment of time, she gave herself up to the sensual pleasure of it. It was, after all, only a dream.

  Wasn’t it?

  As from far away, she heard Shirl calling her name.

  With a start, Megan opened her eyes, her heart pounding, her body warm and tingling from his touch.

  Jumping off the sofa, she ran into the bathroom. Holding her hair away from her neck, she turned her head to the side and looked in the mirror, her stomach knotting when she saw the truth reflected in the mirror.

  There, on the left side of her neck, two tiny bites and a single drop of blood.

  “It had to be a dream,” Shirl said.

  They were sitting at the kitchen table, eating the Chinese takeout Shirl had brought home for dinner.

  Megan pointed at the bites on her neck. “Do these look like a dream to you?”

  “What?” Shirl leaned forward. “I don’t see anything.”

  Megan frowned. “There were two bites there just a few minutes ago.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Jumping to her feet, Megan ran into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. She turned her head this way and that, but her skin was smooth and unblemished.

  Frowning, Megan went back into the kitchen and resumed her seat. “I was so sure….” She shook her head. Maybe it had been a dream. But what if it wasn’t? “Okay, so I
imagined the whole thing. You’re the vampire expert. How can I keep him out of the house?”

  “Well, according to lore, you have to rescind your invitation.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “You need to say that you take it back, that he’s not welcome here anymore.”

  “Don’t I have to say it to his face?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Just do it.”

  Feeling a little foolish, Megan said, “Rhys Costain, I revoke my invitation. You are no longer welcome in my home.” Was it her imagination, or did the house seem to sigh? “How do we know if it worked?”

  “I don’t know,” Shirl said, shrugging. “Wait and see, I guess.”

  It took all the energy Megan possessed to get up and get ready for work Tuesday night. She didn’t want to go to Shore’s, but she didn’t want to spend another day curled up on the sofa, brooding, either.

  Because it suited her mood, she wore a black sheath to work. Black was the color of mourning, after all.

  And of vampires…

  She shook the thought from her mind. She would not think of him.

  She was surprised when Drexel came into the shop shortly after ten.

  “Hey, babe,” he said. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing all right. I’m sorry about Kenny. I know how close the two of you were.”

  “Yeah, Ken was with me when we first started.” He cleared his throat. “Best songwriter I ever knew. We’re gonna miss him.”

  “How about you?” she asked. “No ill effects from the fire?”

  He shrugged. “My throat was sore for a few days. Nothing major.” He lifted his arm, which was bandaged from elbow to wrist. “The burn turned out to be worse than they first thought. Doc says I’ll probably have a nasty scar.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “But it could have been worse. Anyway, I came by hoping that dude who was with you might be here. I want to thank him for getting me on that ambulance when he did.”

  “I’m sorry, he’s not here.”

  “Well, give him my thanks when you see him, will you?”

  “Yes, of course.” She blinked away the tears scorching the backs of her eyes. “Can I show you anything tonight?”

  “Just your gorgeous self,” he said with a wink.

  Megan shook her head. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too, babe. My proposal still stands, anytime you want to say yes.”

  For one mad, crazy moment, she was tempted to accept. Why not? Rhys was gone, and she was tired of being alone. Drexel was cute; he was rich; he was famous. If she married him, she could have anything her heart desired—houses, luxury cars, expensive clothes and jewelry. Anything she wanted. Except the man she loved.

  “We’re going on tour day after tomorrow, but I’ll stop in when I get back.” Leaning forward, Drexel kissed her cheek. “See you soon, babe.”

  With a farewell wave to Mr. Parker, Drexel left the store.

  Megan stared after him. She had always been fond of him, but there was a subtle difference in their relationship now, born of the fact that they had shared and survived a terrifying experience.

  The rest of the night crawled by. Megan waited on several customers, but she felt as though she was moving through quicksand, as if time itself had altered somehow since that night in the park.

  She was grieving for Rhys as if he had passed away, she thought, or maybe she was mourning the loss of their relationship. But she’d get over it.

  “Are you all right, Megan?” Mr. Parker asked, coming up beside her.

  She nodded. It wouldn’t be easy, but her heart would heal, in time.

  Rhys stood outside of Shore’s, his presence cloaked from passersby as he gazed through the window, watching Megan move about the store.

  He had tried to stay away, told himself they were both better off. In spite of the lies he had told himself, he had known from the beginning that, sooner or later, she would discover what he was and that knowledge would put an end to their relationship. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, or to hurt so damn bad.

  He stared at her, hungering for her like a starving man deprived of food. He could smell the enticing scent of her hair and skin, hear the siren call of her heartbeat. He felt her lingering horror at discovering what he was, her feelings of confusion and betrayal. He had known she would never be able to accept the truth, yet the knowledge aroused his anger. Damn her! It wasn’t his fault he had been turned into a monster. He understood her feelings, knew she had every right to be afraid of him, to be repulsed by what he was, but it did nothing to ease his anger. He could have drained her dry, turned her, killed her, but all he had done was love her. And he had thought she loved him.

  She loved the man, taunted a little voice in the back of his mind. No woman could love the monster.

  Hadn’t he learned that lesson centuries ago from Josette? He would be wise to remember it in the future.

  For the first time in his long existence, he hated what he was. Monster. There was no escaping it, no point in trying to be anything else.

  “Vampire!” The word hissed between his teeth as he spun away from the window. Driven by a rage that would not be contained, a hunger that would not be denied, he fled into the darkness.

  Chapter 22

  Tomás Villagrande strolled down Hollywood Boulevard, bemused by the steady stream of humanity that hurried by, never knowing there was a killer in their midst. The scent of their blood was intoxicating. For a moment, he was tempted to throw off the thin veneer of humanity he wore and let them see him for what he was. He could terrorize the puny mortals around him like a wolf raiding a flock of sheep. He could make a game of it, see how many he could drain in, say, ten minutes.

  Somewhat reluctantly, he shook the thought away. Perhaps another night. For now, he wanted to explore the city. Costain resided here. According to vampire etiquette, Tomás knew he should make his presence known to the Master of the West Coast Vampires, and perhaps he would, at some later date. But for now, he kept his presence cloaked, and he would continue to do so until he knew the lay of the land.

  And so he continued to stroll along the sidewalk. How times had changed, he thought. In his day, decent women had dressed demurely and never ventured outside without a chaperone. True, women had bared a great deal of cleavage, but little more. Only the lightskirts had flashed so much skin, behaved so brazenly. A gaggle of teenage girls went by, cell phones pressed to their ears, their rounded arms and flat bellies bared to his gaze, their shorts barely covering their nicely curved bottoms. It made his mouth water just to look at them.

  A couple of teenage boys cruised the boulevard in a silver convertible with the top down, music blaring from the car’s speakers.

  Across the street, a man dressed as a woman waited for the light to change. Farther down the street, Tomás saw a woman dressed as a man. Insanity, he thought. What was the world coming to?

  With a rueful shake of his head, he continued to stroll along the city streets, enjoying the cool kiss of the night air, the faint scent of the sea carried to him by an errant breeze.

  And then, as he approached a tall, glass-fronted building, he caught the distinct scent of vampire.

  Chapter 23

  Megan yawned behind her hand as she laid out a new shipment of Armani dress shirts. She had been miserable the last few days, and it was all because of Rhys. Even when she managed to keep him out of her head during the day, he haunted her dreams at night.

  She had just finished ringing up a sale for one of her clients when Mr. Parker came out of his office, his expression grim.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Some man named Greg is on the phone for you.”

  “Greg?” Why on earth would he be calling her at work? “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “I think you’d better talk to him.”

  A sudden coldness gripped Megan as she hurried into the office and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Megan, it’s Greg. I’m a
t Mercy Arms Hospital with Shirl.”

  “The hospital! Good Lord, is she…?”

  “She’s unconscious.”

  “What happened? Were you in an accident?”

  “No, we went out dancing after dinner. She said she wasn’t feeling well, and we decided to come home early. I’d just turned off the freeway when she collapsed.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Mr. Parker appeared in the doorway when she got off the phone. “Bad news?”

  “My roommate, she’s in the hospital,” Megan said, grabbing her coat and her handbag. “I’ve got to go.”

  He nodded. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

  “She will be,” Megan said. She refused to think otherwise.

  She made it to the hospital in record time.

  Shirl was in a private room on the third floor. Greg looked up when Megan entered the room. It was easy to see from the look on his face that their relationship was a lot more serious than Shirl had let on.

  “How is she?” Megan asked, hurrying to Shirl’s bedside.

  “About the same.”

  “What does the doctor say?”

  “Not much at the moment. We’re waiting for the results of some tests.”

  Megan took Shirl’s hand in hers. Even unconscious, her face almost as pale as the pillowcase, Shirl looked beautiful. “She’s always been so healthy.” Megan looked across the bed at Greg. “Except for her headaches…” Her breath caught in her throat. “You don’t think…” Megan couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Feeling suddenly weak, she dropped into the chair beside the bed. All those headaches…In the movies, it always meant something awful, like cancer or a brain tumor. Fear congealed in the pit of her stomach.

  She looked at Greg, seeking hope, but judging from the bleak expression on his face, he was entertaining some pretty morbid thoughts of his own.

  She was surprised that no one told them to leave. Nurses came and went all through the night, their rubber-soled shoes making little or no sound as they took Shirl’s vitals, her blood, changed the IV.