Putting the phone back, she closed her eyes and waited for the dark curtain of sleep to fall. As the seconds ticked by, nightmare images from the past, buried during the day, surfaced and began nibbling away at her fatigue.
Trying to head off the inevitable, she summoned The Voice. It was the faceless, bodiless voice from her childhood, lulling her to sleep with the soothing words, “Go to sleep, little one. I’ll protect you.” She replayed the sound bite over and over in her head, wishing she could hear it as clearly now as she had then, when it had seemed so real.
After several minutes, she knew that not even the soothing sound of The Voice was going to relax her enough to avoid the nightmares that so often plagued her sleep. She resorted to her backup plan and grabbed the iPOD off the bedside table. Putting in the earplugs, she turned the music loud enough that she could barely hear herself think—which was, of course, the whole point.
Erik woke just as the sun set. He’d slept later than usual because after Kacie had left him, he’d stayed awake trying to figure out a solution to the catastrophe that had become his life. Even now, fatigue pulled at him, but he forced himself to get out of bed. No amount of sleep was going to make this situation go away.
Kacie had killed one of his closest friends. Last night he’d wanted to wring her neck so badly that the only reason he hadn’t was out of respect for Gerard and Vince.
Now, his need for vengeance was tempered by the realization that he was partially to blame for Sedrick’s death. If he had been honest with Kacie when he was training her and told her about the pact he’d made with Michael’s lair—introduced her to the members—then perhaps Sedrick would still be alive.
Feeling the weight of his own guilt in his friend’s death, Erik dressed. He needed to talk to Michael, but first he wanted to make sure Kacie didn’t go out tonight. He could just imagine how that conversation was going to go over.
He left his apartment and hurried through the hallway to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time. When he reached her bedroom door, he stopped and listened. From the other side, he heard the steady rhythm of her breathing. He raised his hand and knocked, then listened for a response. When none came, he knocked louder. When there was still no response, he tested the doorknob and found it unlocked. He went in.
Kacie lay stretched out beneath a sheet that outlined her perfect body. He tried to pull his gaze away, but couldn’t. The change in her was startling. She’d put on weight since he’d last seen her and it had turned the almost boyishly slim figure of the teenager into a curvy feminine form that was sure to draw male gazes everywhere. His eyes strayed from the swell of her breasts rising and falling with each breath to her hair spread about her head like a halo. She looked like an angel.
Angel of death, a bitter inner voice corrected.
Moving closer to the bed, he caught the sound of music and noticed the earplugs she was wearing. She’d definitely picked up some bad habits while away at school, he thought. Leaning forward, he stared at the peaceful expression on her face. She looked so innocent, so vulnerable. An unwelcome sense of protectiveness rose up in him.
He thrust it away and touched her good arm. It was a feather-light stroke, meant to waken her gently, but she lurched upright, catching him off guard. She grabbed his hand and in a move that he’d taught her, twisted his arm as she came off the bed, forcing him to one knee. Then he couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.
“Christ, Kacie. Put on some clothes.”
“Erik!” She screeched. “What are you doing in here?” She released him abruptly and scrambled to the other side of the bed, where she grabbed the corner of the sheet and pulled it up to her neck with one hand while reaching for her sword with the other. The corner she clutched wasn’t wide enough to cover all of her and Erik’s gaze drank in the sight of one exposed breast, tipped by a dusky rose nipple that was hard and distended from the chill air.
He knew he should look away—or at least pay attention to what she intended to do with the sword—but God help him, he was only a man.
He felt a part of his anatomy stir to life and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I knocked but you didn’t answer.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to come into my room,” she muttered, still struggling with one hand to cover herself with the sheet. She stepped to the side in an effort to wrap it around her, unaware that by doing so she had stepped in front of the mirror. Now he had a very enticing view of a long, toned back and slender waist that flared into shapely hips—and a butt he’d love to—
“At least have the courtesy to look at me when I’m talking to you,” she growled.
“My apologies,” he said, doing his best to sound contrite. Reluctantly, and with great effort, he dragged his gaze to her face. “What were you saying?”
She harrumphed. “Was there a reason you sneaked into my room?”
“I beg your pardon,” he said indignantly. “I did not sneak into your room.” He was fighting, unsuccessfully, the urge to peek at her reflection. “I knocked and when you didn’t answer, well, then, yes, I came in, but I wasn’t sneaking.”
“Is that right?” she asked disbelievingly.
“Absolutely. I came to check on you.” He gestured to her injured arm.
“Well, as you can see, I’m just fine.”
“Pet, from what I can see, you are more than fine.”
He had no idea what compelled him to say this, but the minute the words were out of his mouth, her eyes opened wide in surprise. Turning to follow the direction of his gaze, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Instantly, her face grew pink. “Get out!” she shouted, trying to pull more of the sheet around her.
He got to his feet, all too aware that his pants had become much too tight, but made no move to leave. “Not so fast. We need to talk.”
“About what?” She raised the sword as if she planned to use it soon.
“Do you always sleep in the nude?” It wasn’t what he’d meant to ask; it just slipped out. Then it was too late to take it back.
Kacie gave an inarticulate cry and lunged for him. Erik had no doubt that this time, she meant to do him bodily harm. Using his preternatural speed, he raced out of her room, pulling the door shut behind him. “I’m going into town,” he called through the door when she didn’t come after him. “I want you to stay inside tonight.”
“Go to hell.”
Despite the certainty that she had no intention of minding him, he smiled and walked off.
If it was possible, Kacie felt her face grow even hotter and silently cursed herself as she put her sword back in its scabbard. Then she walked into the attached bathroom and considered sticking her head in the toilet and drowning herself. Only a small part of her humiliation was because she’d let a vampire sneak up on her while she slept. The majority of it was due to the fact that Erik had seen her naked. Even now, she couldn’t believe it had happened.
She quietly groaned and turned on the shower. When the water was warm enough, she stepped beneath it. Between sore muscles and her injury, the ache in her arms was twice as bad, but the pain helped take her mind off—other things. Like the way Erik had looked at her. It had been confusing, seeing that hungry look on his face. Had he been a man looking at a woman? Or a vampire considering his next meal?
That thought was unsettling.
She finished showering, dressed, and left her room, grateful that Erik wasn’t around. It was going to be embarrassing enough to face him again and she was in no hurry to do so.
She went into the living room, not really sure what she wanted to do. For several minutes she wandered aimlessly, reacquainting herself with the familiar objects and the memories they brought. Trailing her finger along the back of the old blue couch, she remembered when she and Jess were kids, how they’d race through the room and jump on the couch at the same time. They’d done it so often they’d eventually broken a spring. Gerard had threatened to throw it out, but the girls had begged him to keep it sin
ce it was their favorite.
There was a matching recliner sitting a little off balance beside it; also the victim of exuberant childhood antics.
On the mantel were the family photos. She picked up one of her and Jess, standing arm in arm. Though they wore smiles on their faces, their eyes held similar haunted looks—the kind that comes from finding out at too young an age just how harsh and unfair life can be.
Suddenly she really missed her sister. It had been three weeks since she’d last talked to Jess. At that time, Jess had been planning a trip to the States to deliver the latest Death Rider sword to Gerard’s cousin, Admiral Charles Winslow.
It seemed that the United States, which had been vampire-free for hundreds of years, was suddenly suffering an epidemic of them. It had started two years ago, when the U.S. military accidentally discovered two unidentifiable creatures in South America that bore a marked resemblance to living gargoyle statues. Uncle Charles had recognized the creatures as chupacabras, but not before the creatures had attacked three men, turning two into vampires and one into a changeling—a half-vampire, half-human.
The entire group—chupacabras included—ended up in Washington, D.C., where a second changeling was created. At this point Uncle Charles had stepped in. He turned the changelings into Night Slayers and gave them the Death Rider sword—a sword that gives a slayer an almost mystical ability to kill vampires. Unfortunately, there was only one sword in existence and as the vampire population grew, a second sword was needed.
Gerard was the only one with the knowledge and skill to craft a Death Rider sword, and when he’d finished the second one, Jess had agreed to deliver it.
Thinking of Gerard reminded her why she’d come home—to say good-bye. There was no point in staying if he wasn’t coming back in the next day or so. She’d move to the States and hope to schedule a trip to England as soon as she could—which could be difficult once she started a new job.
What a mess.
At that moment, her stomach growled and she realized how hungry she was. Knowing there was virtually nothing in the kitchen to eat, she decided to run into town. She remembered Erik’s order that she stay inside and smiled. Who did he think he was? Her lord and master? Well, she did not take orders from him.
Going back to her room, she strapped her sword harness to her back and pulled on a jacket. Fortunately, the chill of the March air wouldn’t make wearing the jacket too uncomfortable. Then she left the castle.
Outside, the moon was up and it lit her way as she crossed the clearing at the edge of the woods. As she entered the murky forest, she wished she’d thought to bring a flashlight.
“Going somewhere?”
Erik’s voice floated out of the darkness, startling her. She looked toward the sound and saw the faint glow of his eyes where he leaned against a tree.
“What are you doing here?”
She heard him growl. “Waiting for you, of course.”
“You didn’t trust me to stay inside?”
“Unfair of me, wasn’t it, not to trust you to mind me?” He pushed away from the tree and came up to her. “Now, where do you think you’re going?”
“Into town for food, if you must know.”
“Not tonight. You can afford to skip a meal.”
She gaped at his rudeness. “No.”
“I insist,” he said more forcefully. “Go inside, Kacie.”
“You can’t make me.” In one quick motion, she stepped back and pulled her sword, holding it ready.
“Please,” he scoffed, coming forward and knocking her sword to the side as carelessly as if it were a rolled piece of paper. Before she could recover, he gripped her upper arms, the one hand pressing against the stitches of her wound. He tightened his grip, twisting the skin until she cried out in pain.
She felt the cloth of her sleeve grow moist and knew he’d opened the wound, making it bleed. “You son of a bitch,” she exclaimed, pulling free. She shrugged out of the jacket enough to see her blood-soaked sleeve.
Erik reached out and pinched the damp fabric between his thumb and fingers. When he pulled his hand back, his fingers were covered in blood. He raised it to his nose and inhaled. “Ah, there is nothing sweeter than the smell of human blood.” He licked his fingers and swallowed, groaning. “Yours in particular.” His eyes grew brighter, their crimson light becoming a beacon in the night. “Go back to the castle, Kacie, where you’ll be safe from the vampires—from me.”
She noticed that his breathing had quickened and his fists were clenched tightly in an effort to control himself. For the first time in her life, she wondered if Erik might actually attack her.
Angry and wary, she backed away. He’d made it impossible for her to do anything until the bleeding stopped, so she turned and stormed back to the castle.
When she reached the main door, she looked back once and saw that he had disappeared into the night.
When Erik saw Kacie look back, he stepped behind the tree and closed his eyes. That small amount of blood he’d licked from his finger had been a taste, nothing more, but oh—how it made his body feel alive. How long had it been since he’d had human blood?
Too damn long.
He’d meant to hurt her; cause her a small measure of the pain she’d caused him, though he argued inwardly that it had been for her own good. She wouldn’t go to town with her arm bleeding. To do so would be like sending out a broadcast message inviting vampires to stalk her.
He risked another look at the castle and saw that the door was closed, and knew she was inside. Now he could continue with his original plans without worrying about her.
It took Kacie fifteen minutes to stop the bleeding, clean the blood from her arm, and change shirts. Ten minutes later, she was barreling down the path holding her sword in one hand and a high-candlepower spotlight in the other. She remembered Jess telling her about how such a spotlight had been used in Washington, D.C., to kill a vampire. She’d found this particular one in the laundry room. If Erik wanted to stop her now, let him try. She’d turn his ass to stone.
Erik walked through the streets of town, his thoughts in a chaotic tangle. He knew what Michael would do to Kacie if he got his hands on her. He’d done the same thing once, long ago, to avenge the deaths of loved ones. Even now, part of him seethed for justice. He wanted to avenge Sedrick’s death. But he’d taken a vow to protect Kacie—he couldn’t just ignore it.
What about the pact? If Sedrick’s killer wasn’t found, would Michael still honor it? Or would he break it as Erick had threatened to do? If he did, how many innocent people would die then?
He took a deep breath and tried to clear the emotions from his thoughts. He needed to be clearheaded and logical—now especially.
The prickling of awareness skittered across his mind like the shadow of a cloud passing above. He focused on it until he recognized the signature essence of the vampire lurking up ahead.
“Evening, Ty,” Erik called out, announcing his presence. A moment later, a tall, gangly youth stepped out of a darkened storefront doorway. His hair was light blond, and despite being four hundred years old, he looked seventeen. His expression was grim as he walked up to Erik. When they were close enough, he clasped Erik’s hand and pulled him forward for a manly hug.
“Erik, it’s good to see you. How are you?”
“I’ve been better, and you?”
Ty shook his head. “It’s bad business, that’s what it is. I just can’t believe it—Sedrick dead. I mean—really dead. I never thought it would happen to any of us.” He paused to collect himself. “I guess I was being naive.” He shook his head. “I don’t suppose you’ve found his killer?”
“Not yet,” Erik lied. He wasn’t quite ready to share his dilemma with anyone. “How is Michael?”
Ty grimaced. “Not good. He and Sedrick were so close. Right now, he’s focused on getting revenge. I don’t know what’ll happen later. Things are so different now with Sedrick gone.”
The two fell silent, each los
t in their grief and memories of the friend they’d lost. Finally, Erik held out his hand. “I’ve got to go,” he muttered. He started to leave, but Ty gripped his hand a little tighter, holding on. When Erik looked into the boyish face, it seemed like Ty wanted to say something, but then thought better of it.
He gave a sad smile and released Erik’s hand. “Be careful.” Then he turned and hurried away, leaving Erik alone on the street.
Erik started walking and his thoughts, as they did too often of late, turned to reflections on his past. Growing up as a boy, it had been inevitable that Erik, son of the Earl of Hocksley, would become friends with Viscount Ellington’s sons Sedrick and Michael. The three boys had been born within months of each other, so being of similar age and coming from titled families, their education and interests had been the same.
Ty, on the other hand, was eight years their junior and the only son of a local village woman. Erik remembered the hushed whispers that had followed her around town when she became pregnant out of wedlock. It was only later, as Ty matured and began to bear a marked resemblance to both Michael and Sedrick, that the whole community learned of Lord Ellington’s indiscretion.
Of course, in those days, it wasn’t uncommon for a man to take a lover out of wedlock and Lord Ellington didn’t care enough about Ty, his mother, or the gossip to see that they were taken care of or to send them away. Lady Ellington, however, had found it hard to ignore the fact that her loving husband had slept with another woman and fathered a child.
Michael and Sedrick knew that her failing health had had something to do with the young boy who had taken to following them around. This caused the beginning of the boys’ relationship to get off to a rocky start. Over time, though, Ty’s constant presence became expected and it wasn’t long before all four boys were inseparable.
Erik stopped walking and glanced up. He’d reached Myrtle’s, so he went inside. On top of his other problems, his business manager Penny had called him and insisted they meet in person tonight to discuss “issues.” He wasn’t sure what “issues” couldn’t be discussed over the phone, but he had a suspicion.
Lord of the Night Page 4
