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IT WAS HARD TO GET to sleep. First, there was his sore throat, which reminded him of vampires every time he swallowed. Second, the concern that such soreness was minor compared to what Foley or the others he’d met that night could do. Third, and finally, annoyingly, Samantha.
He had every right to be angry. First the Taser. Second his throat. Third, and most importantly, her lying to him about something so important. On the rank of things that one prospective lover told another—like being married, safe or on the kinky side—“Hi, I’m a vampire” might actually be numero uno.
As he lay staring up at the ceiling, his hands pillowed behind his head, he wondered how he might have reacted if Samantha had told him.
He likely would not have believed her. He might even have thought her totally crazy.
The insane thing was, he probably would have ignored that craziness because...Samantha intrigued him. She presented such a competent and able facade, but within, she was still badly wounded. It was those wounds that had propelled her into a life of helping others. From what he could see of the women and children in the shelter, and of the blocks surrounding the shelter, Samantha had accomplished a lot of good in her life.
Her undead life.
Which prompted him to sneak a look at the shadows in his bedroom. The same old darkness, except for the slight breeze shifting the pale pink chiffon curtains his wife had hung. An open window.
His neck and throat complained again—loudly—as he went to the window to close it. Something shifted on the fire escape, prompting him to pull aside the curtain and peer into the night.
Nothing.
It had probably been his overworked imagination. Closing the window and locking it for good measure, he padded back to bed, shivering. The spring breeze still had the bite of winter in it.
Or at least that’s what he told himself. He was a grown man after all and shouldn’t be afraid of things that go bump in the night.
Especially when those things appeared as attractive as Samantha. Tasted as good. Felt as wonderful pressed against him.
The shiver of cold and fear was replaced with one of desire as he slipped beneath the sheets. Not good. It was foolish to still be thinking about her that way.
Having sworn off serious relationships thanks to his wife, it had been a long time since he’d listed the pros and cons of a prospective date. In his past few dalliances, the only pros he’d considered were that the woman was willing and uninterested in any kind of lasting involvement.
That had worked to satisfy the urge for sex when it came.
Somehow, whatever had been going on with Samantha was about more than the sex, violating his Golden Rule about getting involved. But since he’d already broken that rule...
Pro number one: Her smile did something to him that made his stomach do little flip-flops and, right now, brought a twitch of life to places he didn’t need coming alive tonight.
Pro number two: She was mentally strong. Seemingly capable of handling anything.
The sad upshot of that pro was that her strength came from the harsh trials she’d been forced to face. Although he suspected her courage had always been there, ready to be used.
Pro number three: She was beautiful, oh-so-amazingly gorgeous. He loved the way the mass of her dark hair framed her face. Her skin the color of fresh cream touched by coffee. Or chocolate.
Yes, white chocolate, considering how her lips and breasts had tasted.
He groaned as his nether regions came fully to life. He reached beneath the sheets and grabbed himself. Stroked slowly, ignoring the discomfort in his throat and neck, which should have reminded him that his desire for her could bring him nothing but pain.
But it was hard to forget her as he remembered the fullness of her breasts and how they’d fit perfectly in his hand. How he had licked and sucked at the tips during their one and only encounter.
Pro number four: her passion. He’d roused but the beginning of it that night and it had still been more than he’d ever experienced with any other woman.
Passion like nothing else. Passion with the power to make him forget about everything except...
Con number one, which quashed the desire snaking through him more effectively than an ice-cold shower. He lay there, breathing heavily. His body damp and his needs unfulfilled thanks to the biggest and most overwhelming of cons.
Con number one: Vampire. Blood-sucking, throat-ripping, life-ending vampire.
He much preferred thinking of all the pros. He’d go back to the top of the list and take it a little more slowly this time.
***
THE NIGHT AIR WAS CHILL and filled with damp from a spring rain. It was the kind of weather that seeped into your bones. If you were human, of course.
To vampires things like hot and cold had totally different meanings. Although maybe they weren’t that different, Samantha thought now. Much as humans craved warmth, vampires thrived on the heat within them, searing them from inside through their transformation. Bringing with it superhuman powers, lusts and cravings.
Unlike the cold that cloaked them during the day and when their human forms took control.
Samantha much preferred the cold.
It was why she was impervious to the night’s chill as she crouched behind the ledge of the building across from Peter’s, watching. Struggling to catch sight of him. It had been easier when she’d been on the fire escape.
He must have caught a glimpse of her spying on him, for he’d come to the window. She’d had to beat a hasty retreat to the building across the way.
It had been a while, however, since his earlier appearance at the window. Maybe long enough for her to return to her perch and...
Why was she here? Why had she come to see him? He’d made it quite clear how he felt. How he held her responsible for so many of his hurts.
Maybe that was why she sat on the ledge, watching his building. Seeing no activity from his apartment, she decided to return to the fire escape. To watch him and make sure he was safe.
She walked a few yards away from the ledge of the building. As much as she liked the cold of her human body and what it signified, she knew she needed more strength to make the jump. Arms outspread, her head turned up to the skies, she fixed her gaze on the murky moon, partially obscured by rain clouds. Reaching deep within her, she sought out the demon, sensed it wake, warm and willing to be free.
The heat grew and power singed her nerve endings, wakening every sense. The light of the moon became brighter as vampire sight took over. With a deep breath, she sucked in the smells of the city at night, the freshness of things washed clean by the rain.
Lowering her gaze, she focused on the opposite ledge and rushed toward it, leaping. She landed on two feet, agile as a cat. Carefully she slipped over the ledge and controlled her fall. When she landed on the fire escape, it was noiseless.
Although his window was closed, he’d been careless when shutting it. A piece of curtain was trapped at the bottom, creating a small opening through which she could see him.
He was lying partially beneath the sheets, most of his body exposed. He was naked. With her heightened vision, she could see every wonderful inch despite the darkness of the night. The strong muscles of his arms. The firm planes of his chest.
The heat within her increased, both human and vampire responding to her desire for the man beyond the glass.
She had chastised herself often during the last few days. She should forget her feelings for him. Forget the delicious way he made her want to be alive again, like a real woman once more.
Forgetting had seemed nearly impossible until his reminder that the only thing she’d brought into his life had been pain.
In her mind’s eye, she recollected the marks left on him by the Taser. As she observed him now, the painful red imprint of Foley’s hand was vivid against his throat. His throat, where his pulse beat, growing more rapid as she watched.
Her heart raced along with his. Too fast. Too erratic it occurred to her. She searched out the reason and seeing why, she groaned and fell back against the edge of the fire escape.
She should leave. Yet she couldn’t drag herself away from the sight of him. From surreptitiously feeding on his rising passion.
As she crouched there, ensnared by what he was doing, she remembered how it had been with them. How the muscles of his chest had been hard when pressed against hers, while his skin had been oh-so-soft and warm. How he had licked and sucked...
She moaned as her body sprang to life, joining him on his journey. It was all she could do to stop herself from breaking through that window and slipping into bed beside him to savor the warmth of his body as passion grew, smell the damp of their arousal, strong as her body responded and demanded she find completion.
Sexual completion. She ran one hand over her hard nipples. She imagined his mouth on them, pleasuring her.
Vampire completion. She passed her other hand over the fangs that had erupted along with her human passion. Just as they almost had the other night. There was but one way to satisfy this urge, only she couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to Peter.
With a strangled groan, she gave him one last look, and then threw herself over the edge of the fire escape.
She hit the ground running and didn’t stop, knowing she had to tire out the vampire within if she had any hope of being normal by the time morning came and, with it, all her human responsibilities.
I’m sorry, Peter.
She ran as if chased by the hounds of hell. Only there was no respite from their pursuit. No safe place where she could avoid the message they sent to her all night long—Sorry doesn’t quite cut it.
