After Sundown

by Amanda Ashley

Duncan pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen and scribbled down his address and phone number. "Give me a call when you get back. And don't worry, I'll look after things here while you're gone."

  With a nod, Ramsey shoved the paper into his pants pocket.

  Tom grinned at him. "And try to get a little sun, will ya? You look as pale as one of the undead yourself."

  After leaving the bar, Ramsey walked the streets for hours, his mind in turmoil, his loyalties oddly divided. His first instinct was to tell Tom where the vampires of the city rested and let Tom destroy them. But how could he destroy Chiavari without hurting Marisa? And what of Madame Rosa, whom he had never met? And what of Khira… ? Of them all, Khira was perhaps the only one who posed a threat to both vampire and mortal alike. She was an indiscriminate killer—cold, efficient, ruthless. Just like Tom, he mused. Just like he himself had been until Grigori Chiavari turned his life upside down.

  It was near three A.M. when he found himself standing outside Chiavari's house. It was the only house on the block with lights still burning. He debated a moment, then walked up the long drive.

  The door opened before he could knock. Grigori stood there, shirtless and barefoot. "Ramsey. What the hell are you doing here at this time of the morning?"

  "It's nice to see you, too."

  Chiavari took a step back. "Well, come on in, as long as you're here."

  "I've had more gracious invitations," Ramsey muttered.

  "I've had more gracious guests."

  Ramsey followed Chiavari into the living room, which was dark. "Where is Marisa?"

  "She is upstairs, watching TV." Chiavari sat down on the sofa. "Sit down, and tell me what brings you here."

  Ramsey dropped into the chair across from the sofa. "There's a hunter in town."

  The words hung in the air between them.

  "So," Chiavari said at length. "Anyone you know?"

  Ramsey nodded. "Tom Duncan."

  "I've heard of him. It is said he is one of the best."

  "Yes. He knows you are here."

  Chiavari grunted, apparently unconcerned.

  "He wanted us to hunt together. I guess I don't have to tell you who he wants to hunt."

  "I can guess. Does he know about the others?"

  "I don't know." Ramsey laughed softly. "He told me I looked a little pale. I told him I was leaving town. A vacation."

  "Might be a good idea. Until you decide whose side you are on."

  "I'm not on any side," Ramsey retorted.

  "Aren't you?" Chiavari laced his hands behind his neck. "Then why are you here?"

  "Because of Marisa."

  Chiavari's eyes darkened. "What about her?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

  "She loves you. I do not want to see her hurt."

  "I thought you told her she would be better off without me."

  Ramsey grunted softly. "She told you that, did she?"

  "Of course. We have no secrets between us. So, you came to warn me to spare Marisa?"

  "I would kill you myself if I thought it would make a difference, but she loves you. Getting rid of you will not make her love me." He wasn't even sure he wanted her love now. It wasn't thoughts of Marisa that tormented him, but thoughts of Kelly.

  "So, we have two killers in the city." Chiavari stretched his arms across the back of the sofa. "Khira and Duncan. But then, we are all killers, are we not?"

  Ramsey took his leave shortly after that. Chiavari's words echoed in his mind as he made his way home. Funny, he had never thought of himself as a killer when he had destroyed vampires. You couldn't kill something that was already dead. He hadn't felt like a killer until he had taken that woman's life, until he had listened to the last faint beat of her heart. The fact that he hadn't meant to kill her didn't lessen his guilt. By accident or design, the woman was still dead, and it was his fault.

  Duncan and Khira. Between the two of them, the city would soon be free of vampires. As for himself, he never wanted to kill again. There was blood enough on his hands already. And yet, without Kelly, the urge to kill grew stronger every night. Without her, life, such as it was, was not worth living.

  Chapter 19

  Kelly tapped her fingertips on the tabletop, her gaze moving restlessly over the crowd. Several couples were dancing to some sad country song. She stared at the drink in her hand, so far untouched. She hadn't craved a drink while living with Edward, but for the past week it had been all she could think about. Just one drink to help her forget, to ease her loneliness—her sense of having betrayed him, failed him. As she had failed at so many things.

  She lifted a hand to her neck, wondering what was wrong with her that she should miss his teeth at her throat It had been strangely erotic, having him drink her blood. She missed his dry humor, the touch of his gaze moving over her, hot not only with hunger but with desire. He had wanted her. She had known that from the first, yet he had ever been a gentleman. She remembered his kisses, the strength of his arms around her. No matter that he was a vampire, she had felt safe in his embrace. Protected.

  Loved.

  She pushed the drink away. Drugs, pills, booze. They weren't the answer to her problems. They never had been.

  Rising, she picked up her handbag and left the bar. It was raining. Grimacing, she crossed her arms over her breasts and hurried down the street, wishing she were closer to home.

  At first, she thought it was just her imagination, but then she heard it again, the sound of a heavy footstep. She paused, as if she were tying her shoe, and glanced behind her but saw no one. She wanted to run; instead, she walked briskly, her head up, her shoulders back. Don't look like a victim. Moving around the corner to the parking lot, she fished her car keys out of her purse.

  She was slipping the key in the lock when a hand fell on her shoulder and spun her around. Before she could scream, he clapped his other hand over her mouth.

  He was big. In the dark, that was her first and only impression. He dragged her toward the back of the parking lot, slammed her up against the wall of a building. Her stomach churned at the sour smell of his breath, roiled with fear as he grabbed a handful of her hair and bent his head toward hers.

  Edward! Edward, help me!

  She repeated the words over and over again as her attacker forced her down to the ground, his hands hot and heavy at her throat…

  Ramsey whirled around, surprised when he didn't see Kelly standing behind him. Her voice had sounded so real, so near. It took him a moment to realize he was hearing her cry for help in his head.

  He let his intended victim fall to the ground untouched. Seconds later, he was moving through the night with preternatural speed, his passing no more than a blur, a cool ripple in the air.

  He took in the scene at a glance: Kelly writhing on the ground, her shirt torn, one eye black, the man pinning her down with one hand at her throat while the other tugged at her jeans. Rage consumed him, filled him, enveloped him, until his only thought was to destroy the man who had dared attack his woman.

  Silent as death itself, he struck. Lifting the man as though he weighed nothing at all, he hurled him against the wall. There was a sickening crunch of bone as the man struck the wall, then landed in a puddle of rainwater. He didn't move. The scent of blood filled Ramsey's senses, but for once he had no desire to feed— knew he would rather starve to death than touch a drop of the man's blood.

  Kelly looked up at him, dazed, a trickle of blood oozing from her lower lip. "Edward," she gasped, her voice raw. "You came."

  She groaned when he scooped her up in his arms.

  Ramsey brushed a kiss across her brow. "I'm sorry.' Holding her gently, he willed them to his house.

  He sent his thoughts ahead so that when they arrived, the lights were on, a fire burned in the hearth, a hot bath awaited her.

  When he would have put her down, she clung to him, her face buried in the hollow of his shoulder. Great, shuddering sobs racked her body.

  "We need to get you out of these wet th
ings,'' Ramsey said.

  "Not now; just hold me, please."

  Feeling awkward and uncertain, tormented by her nearness, by the hunger she aroused in him, he dropped down into the easy chair beside the fire and held her close, one hand lightly stroking her hair.

  "Did he… Kelly, did he… ?" He could find no tactful way to ask if she had been raped.

  "No. You got there before he… before…" Tears flooded her eyes, soaked his shirt.

  For the first time since Chiavari had given him the Dark Gift, Ramsey was grateful to be a vampire, grateful for the power that came with it. This night, he had truly killed a monster, he thought, and it hadn't been a vampire.

  He held her and rocked her until her tears subsided, and then he took her upstairs. Keeping his gaze averted, he helped her out of her damp clothes, lifted her into the tub.

  When he turned to go, she caught his hand. "Stay with me."

  "Kelly…"

  "Please. I don't want to be alone."

  He glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see that bubbles covered her up to her shoulders. Certain he was making a mistake, he sat on the edge of the tub, his hands clenched at his sides. Did she know what she was doing to him?

  "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

  She nodded. "I am now." She ran her hand over his shirtfront. "You're all wet."

  He shrugged. Rain, heat, cold: he was impervious to it all now.

  "How have you been, Edward?"

  He frowned at her. "How can you worry about me after what happened to you tonight?"

  She lifted one hand to her face, winced when her fingertips touched the bruise on her left cheek. "I don't want to think about that. Not now."

  He looked at the bruises on her face, thought of what that monster would have done to her, and was glad all over again that he had gotten there in time.

  When she began to wash, he stood up and turned his back to her, but he couldn't shut out the sound of the water sloshing around her, couldn't keep his imagination from going wild, couldn't help wishing it were his hand holding the cloth that was moving over her body.

  "Edward?" she called softly. "I need a towel."

  He jumped as though scalded. Keeping his back to her, he pulled a towel from the shelf and handed it back to her.

  She stood up, and he heard the water sluicing down her body. An aching need pulsed through him. He swore softly. Was she deliberately trying to drive him crazy?

  He plucked his robe off the back of the door and offered it to her, again without looking at her.

  He cursed his preternatural hearing, which allowed him to hear each move she made, no matter how small or how quiet. He could hear the cloth whispering over her skin as she slipped into his robe, hear her tying the sash around her waist. Hear each breath. He cursed the difference in their ages. She was young and fresh, with her whole life shining before her. He had been almost twice her age when Chiavari brought him across, and now he felt ancient, corrupted, a creature of the night whose soul was shrouded in blood and death and darkness.

  He went suddenly still at the touch of her hand on his back.

  "Thank you for saving me, Edward."

  Slowly he turned to face her. "I will always be here when you need me, Kelly."

  She looked up at him, her gaze intent upon his face. "Always?"

  Unspoken between them was the knowledge that he did not want his life to go on, that he had tried to end his existence and failed.

  "Kelly…"

  "Always, Edward? Can you promise me always?"

  "Will you stay with me this time, Kelly, no matter what happens?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I promise I will be here for you for as long as you wish it. You are the only light left for me," he said, his voice thick. "I don't think I am strong enough to go on without you. Promise me you'll never leave me again."

  Her hand cupped his cheek, "I promise." She tilted her head to one side, a faint smile curving her mouth. "Do you think we should seal our vows with a kiss?"

  He slid his arms around her waist and slowly drew her toward him. "Kelly…"

  Rising on her tiptoes, she put her arms around him and murmured, "Kiss me, Edward."

  The press of her body against his, the whisper of her breath across his face, filled him with an aching tenderness the likes of which he had never known. He drew her closer, crushing her breasts against his chest. Sweet, so sweet. He kissed her tenderly at first, afraid to hurt her, afraid that he would somehow repulse her, that she would change her mind and pull away.

  He was startled when he felt her hips move against his groin, felt her hands slide down to cup his buttocks, felt the tip of her tongue brush his lower lip.

  "Kelly…" He gasped her name as desire flared within him, hot and bright as Fourth of July firecrackers.

  She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, a lazy seductive smile. "Yes, Edward?"

  He cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

  "What does it feel like I'm doing, silly? I'm kissing you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

  "Yes, but…"

  "But?"

  "Before when we kissed… that time on the beach… you said…" He was almost stammering. "I mean, you said we needed to slow down."

  "Well, that was then," she said softly. "And this is now. A girl can change her mind, can't she? And I've changed my mind." She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Have you?"

  "I…" He felt his breath catch in his throat. He had hunted dangerous vampires, looked death in the face, but nothing had ever frightened him quite so much as his attraction to the woman gazing up at him through the thick veil of her lashes.

  "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong? You want me. I know you do."

  "More than I have ever wanted anything," he admitted. "But I can't. Not now."

  "Why?"

  "I'm afraid I am not in control." The violence earlier, the smell of blood from his victim, the rush of the kill, the musky scent rising from Kelly: all called to the beast within him. Hunger clawed at his vitals, squeezing tighter, tighter, until the pain was unbearable.

  She moved toward him, one hand outstretched.

  He drew back. "Don't!"

  Her arm fell to her side. "Should I leave?"

  He shook his head miserably, afraid she had misunderstood. "I need—that is… oh, Kelly."

  Damn it, it was humiliating to need her like this, to have to ask her for that which no one should take.

  But he didn't have to ask. Seeing the torment in his eyes, she lifted the hair from her neck, turned her head to one side. "Take what you need, Edward."

  "Damn it, Kelly…"

  "Just do it, Edward," she said, her voice thick. "I want you to…"

  A low growl rose in his throat as he lowered his head, the beast stretching its claws, coming to life, rejoicing in what he was about to do. He felt his fangs lengthen, heard the increased beat of her heart, smelled her fear and her excitement as his hands curved over her shoulders, holding her firmly in place.

  "Do it," she urged gently. She was trembling. "Do it. I want you to, Edward… but don't hurt me, please."

  He drew back. Took a deep breath. This was Kelly. He needed her. She trusted him. Exerting every ounce of self-control he possessed, he lowered his head again. Ran his tongue over her neck in a loving caress.

  Groaned softly as he took what she offered.

  Wept, as he felt her hand caress his cheek.

  "It's all right, Edward," she said with a sigh. "It's all right."

  Closing his eyes, he let her sweetness assuage his unnatural hunger even as her nearness fanned the flames of his desire.

  Chapter 20

  Marisa was seated at a corner table when Kelly entered the restaurant. She was a pretty woman, Kelly thought— impeccably dressed in a beige suit and white silk blouse.

  "Meeting for lunch was a good idea," Marisa said, smiling as Kelly took the seat across from her. "I'm glad you called."

  "I'm sorry I'm late." Kel
ly spread her napkin in her lap. "Did you order already?"

  "No. I'm in no rush."

  "The days are long sometimes, aren't they?" Kelly said wistfully.

  Marisa nodded. "Indeed, they are. And getting longer as the season wears on. I'm not looking forward to summer at all. Shall we order?"

  Kelly nodded. Marisa ordered a Chinese chicken salad and iced tea; Kelly ordered a turkey club sandwich and lemonade.

  When the waitress left the table, Marisa leaned forward. "I have a feeling there's more to this meeting than just lunch. Is something bothering you?"

  "I'm in love with Eddie."

  "Eddie!" Marisa laughed. "I've never heard anyone call him that."

  Kelly grinned self-consciously. "I don't call him that out loud, but that's how I think of him." She placed her hand over her heart. "In here."

  "Does he feel the same about you?"

  "I don't know. I hope so."

  "But?"

  "He scares me sometimes," Kelly said, her voice low and urgent. "He's so unhappy being a vampire. Did you know he tried to kill himself?"

  "Grigori told me."

  ''It was awful." She shuddered with the memory. "I found him in the cellar. I was sure he was dead. His skin was horribly burned, and…" She broke off.

  "And you're afraid he'll try again?"

  "Yes. But what really scares me is the way he seems to need my blood. He says it soothes him. Why should my blood be any different from anyone else's? And what if someday he can't stop? What if he… ?" She couldn't say the words out loud.

  Marisa covered Kelly's hand with her own. "I don't think Edward would ever hurt you, deliberately or otherwise. He's a strong man. As for why your blood soothes him, I'm sure it's because he loves you. And the need for blood lessens as vampires age, if that's any comfort.''

  "Are you happy with Grigori? Are you ever sorry you married him?"

  "Happy, yes. Sorry, no."

  "But what about children?"

  "That's difficult. I always wanted a big family. But I love Grigori with all my heart and soul. I can't imagine a life without him. And someday…"

  ''Someday what?''

  "I'll become what he is so we can be together forever."