Desire After Dark

by Amanda Ashley

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “Yes. Quick, get us out of here!”

  “Don’t tell me twice!” Bobbie Sue gunned the engine to life and drove out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

  Vicki looked out the back window, her heart pounding. “Drive around for a few minutes. I want to make sure he’s not following us.”

  “Vicki, you’re scaring me.”

  “Good, cause I’m plenty scared myself!”

  Bobbie Sue glanced in the rearview mirror. “Do you see anyone?”

  “No.” Vicki sank back in her seat, suddenly wishing that Antonio were there. She wouldn’t be afraid if he was with her. The thought surprised her but it was true. In spite of everything, she felt safe with Antonio. She glanced over her shoulder again, but there were no lights following from behind.

  “So, how’s it going with Steve?”

  Bobbie Sue shook her head. “It isn’t.”

  “You know he’s crazy about you. Do you think it’s fair to keep leading him on?”

  “I’m not leading him on. He knows how I feel. I mean, he’s just as sweet as can be and fun to be with, but it’s like dating my brother. I mean, I love him, but I’m not in love with him. It’s like you and Arnie. There’s just no spark. You know what I mean?”

  “Only too well.” Vicki glanced out the back window again.

  “Sometimes I don’t think we’ll ever get married. Maybe we should move to greener pastures.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my mother says.”

  “Is anyone following us?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Bobbie Sue drove around for ten minutes, then headed for the diner. It was closed when they got there, the parking lot dark, when Bobbie Sue pulled up beside Vicki’s car.

  “Do you want me to follow you home?” Bobbie Sue asked.

  Vicki considered that a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She laughed self-consciously. “Maybe I was just overreacting.”

  “Well, you know what my mama always says, better safe than sorry. Have a good weekend. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Night, Bobbie Sue.”

  Vicki unlocked her car and got behind the wheel, quickly locking the door behind her. In spite of what she’d told Bobbie Sue, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her as she pulled out of the parking lot and made her way down the dark, deserted streets toward home. A shiver skittered down her spine when she drove past Sharlene’s house. She needed to visit Sharlene’s folks, but she just couldn’t. What could she say? What kind of comfort could you offer someone whose daughter had died such a horrible death? How did a family ever get past the tragedy and move on?

  Vicki slowed as her house came into view. Until now, she had always loved the fact that her house was the last on the block and that the woods started where the street ended. Now, she felt suddenly vulnerable and alone.

  As she had the night before, she opted to park in front of the house instead of in the garage. Shutting off the ignition, she wished she had remembered to leave the porch light on.

  Grabbing her handbag, she got out of the car and ran up the stairs to the front door. Her hand was shaking so badly, she couldn’t get the key in the lock.

  “Here,” said a deep, familiar voice, “let me.”

  “Antonio.” She wondered if he heard the relief in her voice.

  Taking the key from her hand, he unlocked the door, then handed it to her.

  She pushed the door open and stepped inside. When she turned to thank him, she saw that he was still outside. “Well, don’t just stand there, come on in.”

  He followed her into the house, his presence putting all her fears to flight.

  “What has you so upset this evening?” he asked, though he knew very well why she was upset.

  Vicki dropped her handbag on the sofa and ran a hand through her hair. “I…It’s probably nothing, but…” She sank down in the chair across from the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. “I went out to the Blue Horse with Bobbie Sue. It’s a dive a few miles from town. There was a man there…He, I don’t know, he just seemed spooky somehow, and he asked about my hair.”

  “Go on.”

  She looked at him, her brow furrowed. “He asked me if it was natural. There was something about the way he said it.” She shivered. “I guess I let my imagination get the best of me. Anyway, I made Bobbie Sue drive me back to my car. And even though I didn’t see anyone following me home…” Her frown deepened. “I was sure there was someone behind me.” The way she had been sure the other night, only to find that it had been Antonio following her. “Maybe he was using some other means of transportation, too,” she murmured, remembering what he had said the other night.

  “Do not assume that I am like him,” Battista said.

  “Were you following me?” she asked, hoping he would say yes.

  He nodded.

  “Who was that man?” she asked. “Who are you? What are you doing in Pear Blossom Creek?”

  “He is a murderer,” Battista replied calmly. “A man without conscience or rectitude.”

  “That doesn’t tell me who you are.”

  “Perhaps I shall tell you one day.”

  “Why not now?”

  “You would not believe me.”

  “Why are you here?” She frowned. “Did you come here to find him?”

  “No. The fact that we are both here is mere coincidence.”

  “So, what is it you do for a living?”

  He shrugged. “I have no employment at the moment.”

  “Really?” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Do you live around here?”

  He resisted the urge to say he did not live at all. “No.”

  “Well, since you don’t work, you can’t be on vacation, so what brings you here?”

  His gaze moved over her, lingering on her lips. “Fate, perhaps?”

  Warmth spread through her, pooling deep within her being. “You’re not married or anything, are you?”

  “No, my sweet one. I would not be here with you if I were.”

  She nodded, then covered a yawn with her hand. “Sorry.”

  He glanced toward the window. “It grows late. I should let you get your rest.”

  She nodded, but he saw the fear in her eyes, fear of spending the night alone.

  “I can stay, if you wish.”

  “Would you?”

  He nodded. “I will keep watch outside.”

  “No! I mean, shouldn’t you stay in here? I mean, wouldn’t you rather stay in here? You’ll be more comfortable.”

  “As you wish.”

  “I’ll get you a blanket,” she said. “And a pillow, and you can bed down on the sofa. Or you can watch TV for a while if you’re not tired…” She closed her mouth. She was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. His offer to spend the night had seemed like a godsend at first. But now, she wasn’t so sure. Earlier, she had convinced herself she felt safe with him. Now that he was here, she was suddenly nervous at the thought of being alone with him, of having him spend the night in her house. After all, what did she really know about him?

  He was watching her, his expression impassive, yet she had the uncanny feeling that he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Have you changed your mind?”

  Had she? Did she want to be alone tonight? “No, no.” She smiled. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  She hurried out of the room and down the hall to the linen closet. There, she paused, one hand over her pounding heart. Please, Lord, let me be doing the right thing.

  She pulled a sheet and a blanket out of the closet, along with an extra pillow and a clean pillowcase. Then, taking a deep, calming breath, she returned to the living room.

  He was standing where she had left him.

  Discomfited by the silence, she switched on the TV. The familiar voices of the cast of Friends filled the silence as she set about making up the couch and
fluffing the pillow, all too aware of Antonio’s nearness. She knew he was watching her every move. His gaze was almost tangible, like invisible fingers stroking her back, caressing her nape.

  “There.” She turned to face him. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

  “Do not worry about me,” he said.

  She wondered if anyone had ever worried about him. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Strength and confidence fairly oozed from every pore. She had no doubt that he could look out for himself, and yet, far below the surface, she sensed a vulnerability. Or maybe she was just imagining it because it made him seem more human…She frowned, wondering where that thought had come from. Perhaps she was more tired than she thought!

  “Well.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “Good night.”

  “Buona notte.”

  Battista watched her leave the room, his gaze resting on the sweet sway of her hips, and then he shook his head. He was not here to admire her beauty or to seduce her. He was here to protect her, nothing more. But her image danced in his mind, the womanly scent of her hair and skin lingered in his nostrils.

  To distract himself, he switched off the television, then strolled through the house, noting that she was a tidy housekeeper and that she favored the color mauve and had a fondness for candles and clocks. The living room was rectangular. Aside from the TV set, there were a high-backed sofa and a chair. A table held a lamp with a mauve shade. The furniture was mismatched but somehow blended together to create a homey atmosphere. A pair of tall bookcases were crammed with books, everything from cookbooks and dictionaries to literary fiction and murder mysteries.

  The kitchen was small and neat and contained all the usual appliances. Two chairs flanked a round table covered with a mauve cloth. He peeked into the bathroom, then opened the door into what was meant to be a second bedroom, only there was no bed. A computer desk took up most of one wall. Two racks framed the single window, one filled with CDs, the other with DVDs. A large aquarium sat on a wrought-iron stand. Several pictures hung on the walls, including an autographed black-and-white photo of a man dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, and one of Victoria standing between a man and a woman that Antonio assumed were her parents.

  Moving silently up the stairs, he paused outside Victoria’s bedroom door. Closing his eyes, he listened to the even sound of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart, the quiet hum of blood flowing through her veins. His fangs pricked his tongue as his thirst roared to life, aroused by the scent of the crimson river beyond the door, the nearness of prey.

  Needing to put some distance between them, he left the house. Standing below her bedroom window, he wondered what Victoria would think if she could see him now, with the lust for blood burning in his eyes. He closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like to take Victoria into his arms, to inhale her scent, to taste the salty sweetness of her skin, hear the accelerated beat of her heart as he took his first taste…

  With a low growl, he thrust the image aside. He needed to feed and soon, but it would have to wait. He couldn’t take a chance on leaving her alone, not with Falco out there. Hands clenched into tight fists, he took several deep breaths, willing his hunger into submission.

  He was about to go back into the house when an instinct born of hundreds of years told him he was no longer alone. Lifting his head, he sniffed the wind, sorting through the myriad smells of the night—damp grass, trees, earth, rotting vegetation, the stink of human waste common to civilization.

  He turned slowly, his preternatural senses filtering through the mundane until he pinpointed the inhuman scent of one of his own kind.

  “Falco.” The name whispered past his lips.

  Mocking laughter echoed on the heels of the night wind. “I am here, Battista. Come, meet with me, brother. Let us speak of the delectable damsel who lies sleeping within the house.”

  “Be gone, Falco. She will never be yours.”

  “Women throughout the ages have been mine.” Again, the sound of mocking laughter rose on the wind. “No woman I desired has ever escaped me, brother.”

  “You will not have her!”

  “You cannot stop me, Battista.”

  Antonio started forward, then paused. Haring off into the darkness and leaving Victoria unprotected was exactly what Falco wanted.

  Muttering an oath, Battista dissolved into mist. In less than a heartbeat, he was inside Victoria’s bedroom.

  He materialized beside her bed, once again fighting the almost overpowering urge to surrender to the need that burned within him, to take her in his embrace, to taste her and touch her until he knew every delicious curve and contour of her body, every unexpressed hope, every unspoken dream.

  Turning away from the bed, he sat on the floor as far away from her as he could get. He would not leave her room until the sunrise was upon him. He had never met Dimitri Falco, but he knew the creature’s reputation. Falco was relentless in his pursuit of prey.

  But he would not have Victoria.

  Not this night, or any other.

  Chapter 10

  Dimitri Falco ghosted through the night. Leaving Pear Blossom Creek behind, he stalked the dark streets of the neighboring town. At this time of night, the only people out and about were those who enforced the law and those endeavoring to break it.

  He found what he was looking for on a street corner.

  He smoothed his hair and put on his most winning smile as he approached her.

  Her gaze moved over him in a quick assessment, noting the cut of his clothes, his expensive shoes. “Hi, honey,” she purred. “What’s a handsome guy like you doing out so late?”

  “What do you think?”

  She tilted her head to one side. “You tell me.”

  He grinned at her. “I’m not the law, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She laughed softly. “Oh, honey, I know that.”

  He lifted a handful of her hair, let the silky strands slide through his fingers. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Is it dyed?”

  “Dyed?” She looked insulted, and then she smiled. It was a blatantly seductive smile. “For fifty dollars, I can prove it’s natural.”

  “Sounds like a bargain to me.”

  “I’ll take the money first.”

  With a nod, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill.

  Her eyes widened as he placed it in her hand. “I can’t break that.”

  “Keep it.” He reached for her hand, his fingers curling around hers in a grip that made her wince as he began to walk, dragging her behind him.

  She tried to wrest her hand from his. “My house is the other way.”

  “My house is this way.”

  “But…”

  “You don’t want me to change my mind about that extra fifty, do you?”

  She considered that a moment, then nodded. “All right, honey, as long as you’re not into anything kinky.”

  “Kinky,” he murmured. “We shall see.”

  Chapter 11

  Tom Duncan swore under his breath as he read the morning paper. A woman had been murdered and drained of blood in the next town. Had Falco tired of hunting in a small town like Pear Blossom Creek and decided to move on to a bigger place, or was he just expanding his hunting grounds?

  With a shake of his head, Duncan tossed the paper aside. He had searched Pear Blossom Creek from east to west and north to south. He had explored every inch of Hellfire Hollow, poked into every abandoned building, looked into every cave and crevice, but he hadn’t found a thing. Zip, zilch, nada. Not a trace of Falco.

  Finishing his coffee, he dropped a couple of dollars on the table to pay for his meal and left the café.

  Outside, he took a deep breath. “Okay, vampire hunter,” he muttered to himself. “Hunt.”

  The sound of church bells woke Vicki. Bolting upright, she glanced at the clock, then bounded out of bed. She was going to be late for early Mass. Again.

  After dressing quickly, she skipped
breakfast and left the house. Jumping into her car, she put the pedal to the metal, only to be pulled over when she was three blocks away from the church.

  August “Augie” Ryan was shaking his head as he approached her car. “Vicki, where in tarnation are you going in such a rush on a quiet Sunday morning?”

  Vicki looked up at him through the window. Augie was the oldest policeman in town. Augie was a big teddy bear of a man, with twinkling blue eyes and a winning smile. By rights, he should have retired years ago, but the people of Pear Blossom Creek wouldn’t hear of it, and since his youngest son was the mayor and his oldest son was the chief of police, it was pretty much a given that Augie would be around until he was ready to retire.

  Vicki summoned her sweetest smile. “I was on my way to Mass, of course. Where else would I be going on a quiet Sunday morning?” Where else, indeed, since everything was closed except the corner café and the hospital.

  “Now, honey, you’re just lucky it is Sunday and there’s no one else on the road. Girl, you might have caused an accident a’speeding along that way.”

  “But I didn’t, and I’m really late, so can I go?”

  “I should write you up this time, you know that, don’t you? It would serve you right.”

  “But you won’t, will you?”

  He rocked back on his heels. “I reckon not. But you slow down, girl, hear?”

  “I will, Augie. Thanks!”

  She pulled away from the curb at a sedate speed, then glanced in the rearview mirror. Augie was still standing beside his police car, watching her.

  With a sigh of exasperation, she kept to the speed limit the rest of the way to church.

  She was driving home an hour later when she saw Tom Duncan walking down the street. She had a date with him tonight. How could she have forgotten?

  Pulling over to the curb, she honked her horn.

  He looked her way, frowning, then smiled when he recognized her.

  Vicki rolled the window down. “Hi.”

  He nodded. “Hi yourself. What are you doing out and about so early?”

  “Church.”

  “Ah.”

  “And why weren’t you at Mass this fine morning?” she asked, then blushed. Just because be wore a cross didn’t necessarily mean he was Catholic, and even if he was Catholic, that didn’t mean he was in the habit of going to church. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”