The image of Cade’s chocolate eyes glazing in agony ripped at her. Val shuddered. “Changing me would keep him from doing that to you again?"
“No,” he said.
She blinked at him. “But I thought you said….”
“It would make the odds more equal, but that’s all. He could still defeat me in battle. There’s no guarantee.”
She balled her fists in her lap. “But if you don’t Change me, and you fight him again….”
“I’ll probably lose,” he admitted. “Don’t fight him.” Cade laughed shortly. “I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, Ridgemont has a way of forcing the issue.”
Val’s thoughts churned as she struggled to come up with an alternative. “But does it have to be swords? Isn’t there some other way to kill him?"
“Oh, yeah. Anything that takes the head off or destroys the heart would work. A shotgun blast might do it, though with Ridgemont you never can tell. I tried a car bomb a few days ago, but Abigail warned him and he escaped….”
She stared at him. “Why on earth did she do that?"
"I was in the car at the time.” He shrugged.
“You were going to blow yourself up?" The chill in her heart grew even colder. Cade could have died before she had the chance to know he was real, touch him, kiss him….
“I wanted to take him out before you arrived.”
He was willing to give his life to protect me, she thought. That dream image of him as her cowboy hero was a lot closer to the truth than she’d realized.
How could she refuse to do anything that would help him? And yet…. Becoming a vampire meant giving up her humanity, turning her back on any chance she’d ever had for a normal life. She’d never be able to go back.
But could she live with herself if she let Cade die without doing everything in her power to save him?
She swallowed and looked away, feeling her gut clench at the brutal conflict. She couldn’t have turned her back on anybody, much less the man who had sacrificed so much to save her. Her heart began to pound. “Cade….”
“No.”
She blinked. “No?"
He faced her. “I’m not letting you make that decision out of pity for me. If I Change you, you won’t have children. You’d never again work at the job you love. You’d never marry—at least, not a mortal. Everything your life has been up until now will be over….”
“Which will be equally true if Ridgemont gets me,” she told him. “If you make me immortal….”
“The point is, you won’t be immortal.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You won’t age and you won’t get sick, but you can still die. And if I fight Ridgemont and lose, he’ll kill you in the most humiliating, sadistic way he can. I’m not putting you….”
“Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “You said you’d Change me if I were willing. Why the sudden turnaround?"
I realized I love you, Cade thought. He bit back the words. “I’ve reassessed the situation, and I’ve decided the risk is unacceptable,” he told her shortly. “I’ll come up with something else.”
She frowned at him. “Like what?"
Cade shrugged. “I don’t know. An ambush, maybe. Something.”
She shook her head. “Cade…."
"Val, drop it.”
“Quit being a pigheaded jerk, McKinnon,” she snapped. “This is my life too. I have a right to a say in….”
“Who the hell do you think you are, Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” he growled. “Until three days ago, you didn’t believe any of us even existed. You have no idea what will work against us and what won’t, so I suggest you just shut the hell up and let me think.”
Stung, she snapped her teeth closed.
Cade greeted her icy silence with a mental sigh of relief. He’d take pissed over pitying any day.
You’re an idiot, do you know that? Abigail said.
Shut up.
Frowning at the dotted line blurring past the Lexus as it sped down I-95, he focused on trying to come up with a solution to the problem of killing Ridgemont. And tried to ignore the feeling his sister was right.
Cade’s house sprawled across its wooded three-acre lot, long and low, vaguely Spanish in design, with white stuccoed walls that shimmered rose in the early morning light. The lights were on behind stained glass windows that spilled color out onto the dewy grass. As the Lexus rolled up the drive, a robin took off and flew into the trees.
“Damn.” Val gazed at the elegant arched doorway and the play of bright color in the windows. “I’m impressed.”
Cade slanted her a grin as he reached past her to get a garage door opener out of the glove compartment. “Thanks. Invested some of the drug money I seized, and it paid off.”
“In this market?" She lifted a brow and snorted. “You must have magic powers.”
His grinned widened. “No, before the crash. This house is several years old.” Cade pulled the car into the garage next to a blue Windstar minivan.
Wondering where it came from, Val studied it. It was packed with boxes, all labeled in black magic marker. One of them read “Camille’s clothes.” Who the heck was Camille, and why did Cade have her clothing?
Before she could ask, a door opened at the other side of the garage. A slim black woman stepped out of the house, a broad smile spreading across her round, pretty face. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a college logo on the front. “Hey, Mr. McKinnon. You made good time.”
“Hello, Camille.” Cade got out of the car and went to shake her hand, then tilted his head as he studied her. “You look relaxed, considering the pressure I’ve put you under. Sorry about that.”
“What pressure? Any stress I was ever under, you got rid of. Starting with Cleave, the bastard.” Warm brown eyes watched Val get out of the car. “This your lady friend?"
Val came around the hood to shake the woman’s delicate hand. “Hi. Valerie Chase.”
“This is Camille Robbins,” Cade told her. “She and her three children have been keeping an eye on the house for me.”
“You mean we’ve been living here rent free,” Camille corrected dryly as she led the way into the house and down a short entrance hall into a huge kitchen. “Which is something I’m going to do something about as soon as I graduate.”
While Cade told her he had no intention of accepting her money, Val looked around at the kitchen’s gleaming white appliances, butcher block counter tops and red ceramic tile floor. Copper pots hung over a central island, and herbs grew in pots on the window sill. Organized, efficient, with an underlying love of simple beauty, it looked like Cade.
Finally Camille gave up the fight to convince her benefactor to accept rent. “Look, I’m sure you’re tired. I’ve bent your ear long enough, and I’ve got to get to get the kids to school.”
“Yeah. Have a good day, Camille.”
“Sleep well.” She stopped short. “Oh, I’ve got the master bedroom ready for you. Through the living room, down the hall, only door on the left.”
As Camille padded out, Val turned to Cade. “You didn’t have to send them away. They could have stayed here.”
“And get caught in the crossfire between me and Ridgemont?"
"Oh. Didn’t think of that.” She hesitated. “We could have gone to a hotel.”
“Endangering the guests and staff instead? Not likely. No, this was the best way.” He turned back toward the garage. “I’ll go unload the car, then I’ll show you around.”
“I’ll help.” She followed him.
Camille walked back into the kitchen. She could hear McKinnon arguing with his lady friend out in the garage about whether she was going to carry her own bags. Smiling slightly, Camille reached for the phone. McKinnon had been a lifesaver for her and her kids. Literally. She had no doubt she’d be dead now without the help he’d given her. If Cleave hadn’t killed her, the drugs eventually would have.
When the man answered the phone, she identified herself and said, “He’s here.”
“Good. Forget you spoke to me.”
Camille hung up, then frowned, unable to remember what she’d come into the kitchen to do. Why was she just standing here? She had to get the kids to school. “Jena! Lashonda! Antwon, let’s go!”
Hirsch tucked away his cell phone into his jacket with a smile of satisfaction. When he’d found the letter from Camille Robbins on McKinnon’s desk months before, he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. He’s just followed a hunch and flown to South Carolina, where to his delighted surprise, he found the woman and her children living in a house McKinnon had built. He’d promptly put her under a compulsion to keep him informed any time the American came to visit. That bit of foresight had just paid off handsomely.
Now he needed to have a word with Ridgemont. When he went after McKinnon this time, he intended to have reinforcements.
“I think I’ve got an idea about how to kill Ridgemont, but it’s going to be tricky,” Cade told Val as they carried their bags into the master bedroom. “I need to get to work on it if I’m going to pull it off before he finds us.”
“What about just giving him both barrels with a shotgun? You said that would work.”
“On an ordinary vampire, yes.” He shook his head as he stacked the bags he carried on the bed. “But with Ridgemont, I’d have to get close enough to use it, and he’d know I was there. I need to be outside his psychic range, but inside the range of whatever weapon I use. Which limits my options considerably, because Ridgemont’s got a hell of a range. About the only thing that would do the trick is a Stinger missile.”
Val stopped in her tracks to gape at him. “Are you serious?" But she could tell by his grim expression he was. “Where the hell do you plan to get one of those?"
Cade shrugged. “Planted a compulsion in this Army general I met a couple of years ago. He’ll give me anything I want, up to and including a Stinger.” Frowning, he rubbed the muscles at the base of his neck. “Trouble is, the Army would find out about it and hang him out to dry, so I’ve hesitated to use him. Unfortunately, I’m backed into a corner now.”
She put her laptop case on the bureau and turned to look at him. “You can’t ruin the man’s career, Cade.”
“I’ll come up with a way to protect him. I just need to give him a call and figure out what to do.”
Folding her arms, she settled a shoulder against one wall. “You know, if you Changed me, none of that would be necessary.”
Cade gave her a cool stare. “Only by putting you at risk of a lot worse. Nobody’s career is worth your life.”
Val blinked and straightened in surprise at the blunt refusal. Before she could wonder whether he actually meant it, he said, “I’m headed across the hall to use the phone. If you need anything, help yourself. Everything I have is yours.”
“Okaaay.” Blowing out a breath, she turned to take in the room around her. She needed rest and a clear head if she wanted to make sense of this.
She’d unpack, then grab a shower and hit the bed. Maybe this whole situation would be a lot more understandable after she got some sleep.
The carpet gave lushly under her feet. A soft pearl gray, it felt as thick and soft as foam. The furniture was massive and dark, with a huge mirrored bureau, an armoire, and a bed the size of an aircraft carrier. Two burgundy armchairs stood in a little grouping at the other end of the enormous room.
The whole effect would have been severe if it hadn’t been for the two huge stained glass windows that took up most of one wall, gorgeous landscapes of waterfalls and forests. In each image, wolves prowled, wild and dark. Such windows weren’t cheap; considering the house had more stained glass than most churches, the expense must have been staggering.
But then, given Cade’s vulnerability to sunlight, the investment was probably worth it. The rich colors would cut out most of the harmful rays and allow him to enjoy the light without worry. She was just wandering over to take a closer look when the air suddenly filled with the scent of peppermint.
Val sighed. Suspecting she’d never be able to eat another candy cane as long as she lived, she turned to look at Abigail. “If you want to bitch at me about becoming a vampire, don’t. I’m willing. Cade is the one you need to talk to.”
The ghost twisted her translucent hands together. I’m not here to harangue you. I just…I’m worried about Cade.
Well, that was understandable. For something to do with her own hands, Val walked over to the suitcases piled on the bed and snapped the locks open on one of them. “I’m worried, too.”
Looking up, she jerked. Abigail’s face was inches from hers as the ghost floated above the bed, gazing closely into her eyes. I think you are. And I need your help, because I’m afraid Cade is going to get himself killed.
Swallowing, Val pulled a shirt out of the suitcase and turned to hang it up in the closet. The ghost might be in a mellow mood, but she felt spooked anyway. “If it’s any comfort, the Stinger idea does sound as though it would work.”
Yes, it does. But if it fails, Ridgemont will kill him. Unless Cade Changes you to get the strength he needs to fight.
“But he refuses to do that.” She opened the closet door and reached in to get a hanger.
And have you wondered why? It’s more than his fear of getting you killed, though that’s certainly a factor.
Frowning, Val slid the shirt onto the hanger. “A pretty damn big factor, judging from the look in his eyes a few minutes ago.”
Of course. He is in love with you, after all.
The ghost’s matter-of-fact confirmation of her suspicions took Val’s breath away. She stared at Abigail in suspended astonishment.
No. The little ghost was wrong, or trying to play her. Or something. But that’s not his only concern, Abigail went on, as if the world hadn’t just tilted on its axis. Have you asked yourself what would happen if Cade makes you a vampire and you both succeed in killing Ridgemont?
“You mean other than me dancing on the bastard’s grave?" I’ll join you. We’ll have a hoedown. But what comes next? Val shrugged and reached into the closet to pull out a handful of hangers. “We all live happily ever after, I guess.” Could Cade be in love with her? God, what a seductive thought…
Which, considering you’d both be vampires, could be a very long time. Would you stay with Cade?
“Stay?" On her way back to the bed with the hangers, Val looked at the ghost, frowning.
As his lover. Or even his wife. The two of you, united for centuries.
Cade. Hers. With no fear of Ridgemont or Hirsch. Hers to touch and taste. Decades of his wickedly skillful hands drawing pleasure from her body as his big cock surged and thrust deep. The idea was darkly tempting. “I…don’t know. He hasn’t asked me to stay.” She lifted her chin. “And I’m not in love with him.” She couldn’t be.
Aren’t you?
Val looked away. “No.”
Abigail smiled. The point is, Cade believes you wouldn’t even consider staying. He thinks you would reject him.
“What? Why?"
Because Caroline Johnson did.
“Who the hell is Caroline Johnson?"
The only woman, other than you, he ever loved.
Val waited in suspended fascination, but instead of continuing in that vein, the ghost floated to the stained glass window and looked out, as if she could see beyond the glowing colors. Maybe she could.
The land this house sits on was once part of our family plantation, did you know that? That’s why Cade bought it to begin with. Before the war, you could see the cotton nodding in the wind, a huge expanse of it, like a field of snow. Cade spent hours out there with Pa, learning how to tend it, how to make it grow. Yet after the War, he left without a backward glance.
Val frowned, wondering where Abigail was going with this. “There probably wasn’t much left, not if it was like other plantations in this part of the country.”
True, but there was more to it than that. Mostly he just wanted to forget. He was only sixteen when he enlisted. He was nineteen when the war was over, but those three years had left decades worth of scars. She went silent for a long moment, as though remembering. Finally she continued, He blamed himself for the deaths of Pa and our brother. Maybe still does. Thought he should have been able to save them, though I don’t know how. The ghost smiled a slight, bitter smile. Cade always did have a talent for guilt. Pa taught him responsibility a little too well.
Something in Val pulled into an aching knot at the idea of McKinnon carrying such a burden at such a young age. “You know, I never thought what his life was like before Ridgemont.” She shook her head. “I’d hoped it was…happy.”
It wasn’t. Cade got home just in time to watch me succumb to yellow fever. Ma had already died from it. I don’t know how he avoided being infected himself, particularly given that he buried me with his own hands. Her expression was sad, brooding. All the servants, all the slaves, they were gone.
Well, you can hardly blame them, Val thought. She didn’t say the words, knowing Abigail wouldn’t see it that way.
With no field hands and no money, he couldn’t bring in a crop. He stayed on the next year only because he was so weak and starved he needed to build up his strength. But as soon as he could, he lit out, heading west. He drifted for several years, working as a field hand or helping lay railroad line, until eventually he reached Texas and decided to become a Texas Ranger.
“What about you? Where were you all this time?"
Abigail turned to look at her, light from the window streaming through her translucent body. After I…died, I remained. Almost everyone does, at least a day or two. And I saw this.
Suddenly her eyes seized Val’s like a trap snapping closed. Everything spun, and…
She was looking down at Cade as if she floated in the air just over his head. But it was a Cade who was too young, too thin, bony wrists protruding from the too-short sleeves of a ragged gray uniform as he knelt on a raw mound of dirt. A wooden cross made from two pieces of board stood at the head of the mound. It was, Val realized, Abigail’s grave.
He wasn’t crying—his face was too desolate for that, his gaze blasted and empty like the windows of a house that had been pounded by artillery.
Suddenly she remembered a laughing young boy’s face, dark eyes dancing with merriment, long fingers digging into her ribs while she shrieked, “Cade! Cade, stop!”
Abigail’s memory. Sharing it, Val felt her heart ache. But then her eyes shifted upward, and her heart skipped a beat. Just above his head, something roiled—a blackness, half-seen, radiating a sense of horror so intense the hair rose on the back of her neck.
“What the hell is that?" Val said.
Cade’s future, Abigail’s ghostly voice replied in her mind. “Evil,” Val whispered. “Suffering.”
I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it waited for him. And I knew it would be worse than everything else he’d endured.
Suddenly a bright gold light spilled over Abigail’s grave, but Cade didn’t look up. It was as though he didn’t see it. Yet Val sensed…something coming from that light. An emotion—a patience, a kindness so infinite it brought tears to her eyes.
The presence spoke to Abigail, its voice a gentle thunder imbued with a texture she could feel on her skin, a taste that filled her mouth, exquisite and alien and indescribable. But though she could feel the sound reverberating in her chest, she couldn’t understand the words.
Abigail could. I can’t just go! the ghost’s voice protested. I can’t leave him like this! Can’t I help him?
The being replied in a long, rolling rumble. It was frustrating, Val thought, like hearing half of a phone conversation. Yet somehow she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what the golden presence said.
But I could help him?
Now the rumble sounded like affirmation and warning, all at once.
I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I have to. I can’t let it have him.
WRENCH!!
Val sat on Cade’s bed, her head swimming as she stared at the ghost floating before the stained glass window. She swallowed. “Was that…God?"
Abigail shrugged. I don’t really know, but I don’t think so. I believe it was an angel.
“You gave up your chance to go with it so you could stay with him?"
The ghost smiled. I couldn’t do anything else. Could you, after seeing what waited for him?
“No.” Val frowned, reassessing her mental image of Abigail. She’d thought the ghost a cold little bitch, but now she realized how much love and loyalty lay beneath that ruthless willingness to do anything for her brother. “How did he react to having you suddenly appear?"
Oh, he didn’t know I was there until Ridgemont Changed him. As a mortal, he didn’t have your power. Another eighteen years would pass before he saw me.
“You followed him for eighteen years without ever talking to him at all?"
Valerie, I’m dead. It’s not as if I had anything better to do.
“Good point. What happened then?" Suddenly she wanted to know more, craved to know more.
As I said, he wandered. Images flashed through her mind: Cade, slumped in the saddle of a tired horse, a five-o’-clock shadow darkening his jaw as he rode beside a herd of weary cattle. Cade, shirtless in the sun, swinging a pick. Cade driving a mule team, his eyes patient and bored.
SHIFT. Looking like the cowboy hero of Valerie’s dreams, he rode hard on a galloping horse, his eyes narrow and hot with determination. A badge glinted on his broad chest. Until he joined the Rangers. It gave him a sense of purpose again, the feeling he was doing something to help those who needed it.
SHIFT. Another man, a badge pinned to his chest, standing at Cade’s side as the two fired their guns at three men running from a bank. Two of the bandits went down, but the third snapped off a shot, hitting the other Ranger. With a shout, Cade blew away the killer, then dropped to his knees beside his fallen comrade.
“Take care of her, McKinnon,” the dying Ranger gasped, “Don’t let my Caroline starve.”
Then came Caro.
SHIFT. Cade stood with both arms wrapped around a woman as she sobbed, an expression of pity on his face—pity, and an uncomfortable awareness mixed with guilt.
SHIFT. Sitting at her kitchen table, he watched her laugh at something he’d said. Masculine hunger glowed in his dark eyes as he looked at her.
SHIFT. Cade kissed Caroline, drinking in her mouth. Val felt a surprising stab of jealousy she knew was all her own.
I knew it wasn’t going to work, the ghost said. She wasn’t like you. There was a weakness in her that was no match for what waited for him. And I was right.
SHIFT. Cade and Caroline stood on the porch, his mouth moving over hers with gentle, wooing skill.
Suddenly a man shouted something, and Cade’s head snapped up.
The other man strode toward him, dirty, beefy face twisted with rage as he went for his gun. Cade’s hand blurred toward the Colt on his hip. He was just a fraction faster. Smoke billowed from his pistol, and the man went down, his own weapon firing wild.
Caroline stared at the fallen gunman, her eyes widening with horror. Cade looked down at her and froze as he read the revulsion in her gaze.
“But the guy was going to kill him!” Val said, outraged. “He was just defending himself!”
Yes, and she’d already lost one husband. She couldn’t stand to lose another, particularly when she’d come so close to getting shot herself in the process. She broke it off with him that night.
SHIFT. Cade wearily climbed a set of narrow stairs. Defeat rounded his broad shoulders, and there was pain in his eyes. He went back to his hotel, thinking it couldn’t get any worse.
As Val watched him climb, she sensed something waiting for him at the head of the stairs. Something dark. Something evil.
“Oh, God,” Val whispered. “Ridgemont.”