Val was still glowering at her own errant libido when they stepped up to the cracked white counter to find the twenty-something desk clerk engrossed in his cellphone. Judging from the gasps and moans, she had a pretty good idea what he was watching.
Good God, she realized, as blatantly sexual groans blared from the phone, I’m about to get a motel room with a vampire. A cheap motel room.
Another image from one of her dreams flashed through her mind: Cowboy loomed over the woman, one of her plump thighs draped over his arm, one hand gripping the bend of her other knee, holding her legs spread wide. The tight, hard muscles of his abdomen lacing as he slowly pumped his thick shaft in and out…
“Deeper, baby!” a female voice purred. “Pound your big cock into my tight little…”
“Turn that off,” McKinnon snapped. “There’s a lady present.” His voice dropped to an irritated growl. “If there was another hotel with a vacancy in a hundred miles, I’d…” A tinge of red colored his high cheekbones.
The vampire was blushing?
The clerk’s eyes widened and went blank as he fumbled to obey. Val grinned.
Catching sight of her smirk, McKinnon looked defensive. “Well, it was disrespectful, watching that with you here.”
“And you wanted to protect my virgin ears? That’s sweet, McKinnon. That’s really sweet.”
Something dark and wicked sparked in his eyes. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I’d think you’d find my desire to protect your virgin anything a comfort. Under the circumstances.” He turned to the clerk. “We’d like a room.”
Val blew out a hissing breath. Note to self: don’t tease McKinnon. He doesn’t take it well.
* * *
After McKinnon pulled the Lexus around to the motel wing where their room was located, Val got reluctantly out of the car.
Golden morning light poured over the parking lot and its motley collection of cars, most of them speckled with either primer or rust or both. A woman emerged from one of the rooms towing a pretty dark-haired child who knuckled sleep from her eyes. The mother nodded at Val and McKinnon with a Southerner’s automatic courtesy.
Nodding back, Val said absently to McKinnon, “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“If you say so.” He glowered up at the bright sky from behind the sunglasses he’d donned at daybreak. “I need to get the car unloaded. I smell barbecue, and I think it’s me.” Reaching into the back seat, McKinnon pulled out the sheathed longsword.
“I thought you said the bursting-into-flames thing was a myth.”
“It is. I don’t burst into flames.” He drew the weapon and popped the trunk as he walked around to get their bags. “I just turn an interesting shade of second-degree burn.”
“Ouch. Guess vampirism has its drawbacks.” Automatically, Val moved over to help.
“Yeah, though never getting old, sick, or bald doesn’t suck.” He handed her one of the smaller bags and tucked two of the others under his left arm.
“Then again, there’s Ridgemont.”
He hefted the sword in his right hand and grimaced. “Put that way, old, sick and bald doesn’t sound that bad.”
As they started toward their room, it occurred to Val that their teasing exchange was yet another sign of how dangerously at ease she’d become with him. And she couldn’t afford that. He’d lied to her for too many years, concealing his vampire nature behind a mask of heroism. Maybe he was telling the truth now about his motives -- but maybe he wasn’t.
Yet her instincts still insisted she was safe. Could she trust those gut feelings, or were they just a conditioned response to a man who’d done far too good a job winning her trust?
Those instincts also told her something else, something she had no trouble believing: McKinnon wanted her. And that could mean trouble, because the man was too damn good at seduction.
While she contemplated the implications of that danger, McKinnon put down the bags outside the room and unlocked the door. He stepped back and gestured her inside. As she moved past him, the nape of her neck prickled with sensual awareness.
Yeah, she thought. Way too good at seduction.
Swallowing, she scanned the room as he shut the door. The decor was regulation cheap motel: blue carpet, drapes, and bedspread, dark, pressed-wood furniture, a standard-issue ugly print hanging over the king-sized bed he’d insisted on.
The only bed in the room.
“Relax, Val. You look like you expect me to eat you,” McKinnon said, putting the suitcases down. The powerful muscle in his chest rippled under the thin T-shirt, and she unconsciously dropped her gaze to watch. When she glanced back up, he grinned wickedly. “I promise I won’t even nibble -- not without an invitation, anyway.”
Val blew out an exasperated breath. “You need to make up your mind.”
He lifted a brow. “About?”
“One minute you’re playing Boy Scout, the next you’re the Big Bad Wolf. You need to pick a personality and stick to it, because you’re giving me whiplash.”
He laughed, a rich male rumble. Unnerved, she made for the bathroom beyond the bed.
“What are you doing?” McKinnon moved after her as she stepped inside.
“Some of us have to answer the call of nature.” She batted the door closed, forcing him to retreat.
His voice floated through the thin wood. “I’ve been hearing the call of nature for hours, Valerie. I just don’t think you want me to answer it.”
“Aren’t there some little pigs somewhere you should be terrorizing?” she muttered under her breath.
He heard her, of course. “Why should I settle for pork when I can have Red Riding Hood?” That seductive chuckle sounded again, teasing heat from parts of her that should know better.
“Stop that,” Val whispered to her nipples. They stubbornly continued to thrust against the silk of her blouse. Yep, she thought glumly, plopping down on the commode, I am definitely in trouble.
McKinnon stared speculatively at the bathroom door, feeling every bit the wolf she’d called him. He tongued the tips of his fangs and tugged at his suddenly uncomfortable slacks. “The better to eat you with, my dear,” he murmured.
Cut that out, he told himself severely.
Yet… making love to her didn’t mean he had to change her. And there were definite advantages to seducing Valerie beyond the obvious physical delights. If they became lovers, he’d no longer have to worry about her making some stupid escape attempt and ending up in Ridgemont’s waiting fangs.
And then there was the Hunger. He could go without feeding for quite some time, but eventually he’d weaken. He couldn’t afford that, not with a fight with Ridgemont so likely.
Of course, he’d have to limit himself to a very small quantity of blood if he intended to make love to her repeatedly, but if her orgasms were intense enough, that would be sufficient. At least for the time being.
Except… having tasted Valerie, would he be able to let her go when this was over? He remembered all those dreams when he’d felt her move against him, all silk and seduction. Damn. He couldn’t risk it.
Which meant he had to use other means to ensure she didn’t escape while he slept. She wouldn’t like his methods, but he had no intention of giving her a chance to get herself killed.
* * *
Val dawdled in the bathroom finger-combing her hair. The longer she could put off crawling into bed with the Transylvania Kid, the better. She wasn’t exactly confident in her ability to fend him off. I have to get away from him.
Maybe once he went to sleep. She’d wait for him to drift off, then grab his car keys and make for the parking lot. With any luck, she’d be in another state before he woke up. She could meet up with Beth and…
But was that really such a good idea? If Ridgemont caught them, they’d be defenseless. It was one thing to risk her own life, but she was damned if she’d expose her sister to that monster. And yet, leaving her sister to fend for herself wasn’t a good idea either.
Too, the kid was due to start college in a couple of weeks. The Art Institute of Atlanta was prestigious and exclusive, and if Beth lost her slot in the fall, she might not be able to get in again.
On the other hand, Ridgemont would be able to find Beth there all too easily. If Val dropped out of sight, he’d kidnap her sister to force her back into the open. The thought of what he might do to Beth in the meantime made her blood run cold.
What the hell was she going to do?
First things first, Val decided. Get away from McKinnon, then go from there.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Val leaned her elbows on the counter and tried to come up with an escape plan. It all depended on how deeply McKinnon slept…
Suddenly she smelled the sugary bite of peppermint. Absently, Val looked around the bathroom, expecting to see a bowl of candy. She wouldn’t mind a little comfort food right now…
“Let him Turn you,” a childish voice whispered.
Stiffening in alarm, Val whirled. There was no one in the bathroom with her. Except… The shower curtain was drawn across the tub. She reached for it. “Okay, kid, get out of there. Does your mother know…” She whipped back the plastic, but the tub was empty.
“You’ll die if you don’t, Valerie,” the piping voice said. “It’s the only chance you’ve got.”
The hair lifted on the back of her neck as Val stared around the bathroom. Empty.
She jerked open the door and stared out at McKinnon. “Did you hear something?”
He looked over his shoulder at her as he lay belly-down across the bed, the covers bunched in the floor. Both long arms stretched down between the headboard and the mattress, but she couldn’t see what he was doing. “What?”
“Did you hear a little girl talking?”
He turned his head and went back to work. “No.”
“Must have been my imagination.” Under the circumstances, it was no wonder. She frowned at him as she stepped out of the bathroom, peeling off her wrinkled jacket to drop it over a chair. What was he doing now?
The thin fabric of his T-shirt and the position of his lifted arms made his back seem a mile wide. His waist looked as narrow as a teenager’s by comparison, and his taut buns in those tight trousers reminded her of upturned cereal bowls. She wondered what he’d do if she bit him right on one of those deliciously muscled cheeks.
The idea is to stay out of the vampire’s bed, Val. Still, the thought was a little too tempting. To distract her clamoring libido, she asked, “McKinnon, what are you up to?”
“Making sure you don’t do something stupid.” He rose onto his hands and knees with a luscious muscular flex and backed off the bed, leaving a twisted length of sheet stretching out from under the headboard.
“What’s that for?”
He pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket. “Well, I’ve got to tie the cuffs to something.”
Val recoiled. “Forget it. I don’t do bondage.”
“Look, I’ve been smelling Hirsch’s blood for about four hours now, and it’s making me hungry. I need a shower, and I’m not going to risk you sneaking out the door while I take one.”
She backed up, knowing she didn’t dare let him cuff her; escape would be impossible. “What if I promise to be a good girl?”
“Sorry, you don’t strike me as that trustworthy.”
“Neither do you.” Val whirled toward the door.
He caught her before she got two steps and tossed her on the bed. She hit the mattress and bounced, but before she could even think about rolling off, McKinnon was on top of her.
Suddenly Val was covered in hard, hot male, his long fingers wrapped around one of her arms. She tried to flail at him with her free hand, but the bracelet’s cool metal had already snapped closed. As the lock clicked, he caught her swinging fist and cuffed that wrist too. She cursed him breathlessly, bucking, but he ignored her struggles and calmly knotted the sheet around the short chain between the cuffs. Furious, Val arched against him… and was suddenly aware of a hard ridge mashing against her belly. It felt huge. She froze, eyes widening.
“Yeah, I’ve got a hard-on,” he told her. As he spoke, she glimpsed the tips of his fangs. “That’s why I’m taking the shower.”
“May I suggest throwing in a few ice cubes?” she gritted.
“I might just do that.” He rolled off her and turned toward the bathroom, bending to pick up the sword he’d propped against the chair as he walked by.
Val watched his broad back disappear through the door, then let her head drop to the pillow. As she blew out a breath, her stiff nipples rubbed against the lace of her bra. “Save a few cubes for me while you’re at it,” she muttered.
“If you let him Change you, you could have him forever,” the young voice whispered.
Val froze as icy fear instantly killed her arousal. “McKinnon!” she yelled, but water was already hissing through the pipes. She lifted her head and bellowed at the closed door, “McKinnon, dammit, use those vampire ears! I need you!” No answer. “Ah, hell.” Disgusted, she turned her head away…
A glowing little girl stood beside the nightstand.
Val yelped and tried to roll off the bed, but the handcuffs jerked her up short. Kneeling with her arms twisted painfully, she stared at the child. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Abigail McKinnon,” the voice said, though the little girl’s lips didn’t move. “Cade is my brother.”
McKinnon had said he was born in 1846. Any little sister of his would have to be…
“Oh, man,” Val moaned. “First vampires, now ghosts. I’m trapped in a Halloween After-School Special. All we need is Frankenstein’s monster and the Wolfman.” She gave her hands a hard jerk, but the cuffs held fast.
The ghost blinked huge, dark eyes that looked a lot like Cade’s. “There is no such thing as Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Does that mean there’s a Wolfman?” Val asked with a flippancy born of raw nerves. “No, don’t tell me -- he’s your other brother.”
The little ghost’s face hardened with bitterness. “My other brother was shot down at Gettysburg. Pa tried to save him, but took a chunk of shrapnel in the chest and died for his pains. Cade is the only one left.” Anger twisted that soft, glowing mouth. “And you’re going to get him killed.”
Hoooo boy. “I didn’t ask Cade to get involved in my problems. I can take care of myself.”
Abigail laughed silently. The mental sound of it was too grating and bitter to come from a child. “You’ve never seen what Ridgemont does to women like you. If you have any sense, you’ll beg Cade to make you a vampire. Now. While there’s still time. It’s the only way either of you has a chance in hell.”
No matter what she looked like, Val realized, the ghost was not a little girl. Not mentally, anyway. “But I don’t want to become a vampire.” Twisting her hands around, she fumbled surreptitiously for the knot tying the handcuffs to the sheet. She was damn well going to get loose and get out. She’d had enough of this. Count Cowboy and Ghost Brat could find somebody else to play with. “I don’t want to become some evil thing that drinks blood.”
“My brother is not evil, girl.” The ghost’s lips peeled back from her small teeth. “Don’t confuse what the others are with him. Yes, Ridgemont and Hirsch are twisted and evil, but then, they always were. Cade is a good man whether he drinks blood or not. And he deserves to live.”
“So do I, damn it!” Val lifted her head to glower. “I just want a normal life. Ever since my folks were murdered, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Hoping to distract the ghost while she picked at the knot around the cuffs, she began to babble. “Two kids and a husband that loves me. And a dog. One of those big, fuzzy dogs.” Damn, McKinnon had tied her tighter than a calf at a rodeo. “An Irish Setter, maybe. Setters are nice dogs. I had a friend who owned a Setter…”
“Idiot.” Abigail floated upward, her full shirt beginning to lift and whip around her as if in a rising invisible wind. “You don’t get a normal life. You’re going to become a vampire.”
“No,” Val whispered, a chill rolling over her at the utter certainty in the ghost’s voice.
“Yes. Either my brother will do it, and the two of you will kill Ridgemont together, or you’ll refuse him, and the monster will murder him and enslave you.” Those black eyes started to glow with a cold, unearthly light as Abigail’s hair streamed back from her head. Her heart-shaped face grew gaunt, the translucent skin darkening, sagging. Rotting.
A piece of the ghost’s cheek plopped to the carpet to reveal gleaming bone. Her eyes bulged as her lids melted away, decaying lips blackening and shrinking from small white teeth. “But I’ll tell you this,” the lipless mouth said, “if you get my brother killed, I swear I will haunt you all your miserable, endless life.”
Jaw gaping in a silent scream, tattered bits of rotting flesh flapping around her skull, the ghost shot right at her.
Val shrieked with all the air in her lungs.
Cade was rinsing the last of the shampoo from his hair when he heard Valerie scream in utter terror. Shit, he thought. Ridgemont!
He dove from the shower, grabbed his sword off the narrow counter as he went by, and barreled out of the bathroom door. Naked and dripping, he fell into guard, lifted the blade, and scanned the room for his enemies.
But all he saw was Val, curled against the headboard in a quivering, hysterical knot. “Valerie!” He strode toward her, grabbed the twisted sheet that was still tied around the handcuffs, and ripped it in two with a yank so he could lift her off the bed. She hooked her handcuffed wrists over his head and clung to his neck, sobbing, her shaking body plastered against his. He slid a comforting arm around her waist, the other hand still holding the sword. “What happened? Did Ridgemont…?”
“No!” she gasped. “It was your sister!”
He blinked. Oh, hellfire! What had Abigail done now? “She can’t hurt you, Val. She’s a ghost.”
“She rotted, damn it! She turned into a skull, and she said if I got you killed, she’d haunt me! And then she…” Val broke off and sobbed. “Goddamn it, I feel like an idiot!”
Cade sighed and pulled her close, throwing the sword on the bed so he could hold her. “She didn’t mean it. She’s just protective.”
Val drew back to shoot him a glare through glittering tears. “The hell she didn’t mean it! You didn’t see the look on her face. While it rotted. Jesus!” She burrowed against his neck again.
“Abigail!” Exasperated, he stared around the room for her. “You come apologize this minute.”
“God, don’t call her back…”
But the ghost had already appeared next to the television, wearing a mulish expression on her undecayed face. “I am not going to apologize,” Abigail announced, glowering evilly at Val, who shrank back against his chest. “Somebody has to make her see the risk you’re running.”
“That isn’t your place.” He clung to his fraying temper and tightened his grip on his shivering captive. “Tell her you’re not going to haunt her.”
She bared her small, glowing teeth. “No. Because if she gets you killed, I’m going to.”
“Abigail…”
With a flounce of lace and petticoats, she turned and flew right though the wall. Val jerked in his arms with a gasp.
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t answer, instead clinging to him as her shudders subsided. Her body felt deliciously soft and yielding against his. He stroked her narrow spine and crooned nonsense in her ear, trying to ignore his hardening cock. To hold her again, touch her, even under such circumstances… it was so damn sweet. So tempting. “You know, she’s not really all that bad,” he said at last, in part to distract himself from his own rising hunger.
“Oh, right.” Val sniffed and wiped her eyes with one handcuffed wrist. “And the Headless Horseman was really a sweet guy. The whole decapitation thing was all a tragic misunderstanding. Damn, McKinnon, you’re wet.” She pulled back from him and looked down. Her eyes widened. “And naked.”
And she might as well be, he realized, heat washing through him. When Val had burrowed against his dripping body, she’d soaked that pretty mint blouse right through. Now the wet, transparent fabric clung lovingly to her exquisite breasts. A cream lace bra cupped the full mounds, but one of the cups had drooped to reveal a shy pink nipple. He stared at it. And longed to flick the little point with his tongue until it was bold and red.
“Ummm.” Blushing as furiously as only a redhead can, Val unhooked her arms from around his neck and eased away. “Don’t you think you’d better dry…” Her eyes dropped to his lengthening erection. “Off!” The last word emerged as a squeak.
It suddenly occurred to him this might be a good time to try that seduction, if only to keep her too busy to run. He gave her his best wolfish smile -- complete with fangs. “The better to eat you with, my dear.”
If the Big Bad Wolf looked anything like McKinnon, it’s no wonder Red Riding Hood ended up lunch, Val thought. Not that anyone would mistake him for somebody’s grandma. Not with that erection, anyway. She stared down at it, dry mouthed, feeling like a bird hypnotized by a snake. A very big snake.
It jutted out at her boldly, thick as her wrist, flushed dark with his arousal. The shaft was long and straight and beautiful, with thick blue veins snaking along its length, and a big, heart-shaped head. His balls nestled beneath it, cocooned in silken hair as they hung between his powerful thighs. Dazed, she let her eyes track up his body from that stunning shaft. Six-feet-three inches of sculpted masculinity…
But this wasn’t her dream hero. This was McKinnon, flesh and blood… and vampire.
Breath caught, Val stared into his eyes. There was hunger there, yes, burning and dark and thoroughly male. A hunger not for blood, but for sex. For her.
The nostrils of his straight nose flared as if drawing in her scent, and his tongue slipped out to wet his lower lip. Her gaze dropped helplessly to his mouth, remembering those burning dream kisses. Kisses she could now taste in reality if she just leaned forward…
His eyes narrowed and he stepped close again, so close her peaked nipples touched his damp skin. A bead of water slid from his wet hair and down his temple to trace a shining path along a high, arrogant cheekbone.
Heart pounding, Val watched his head dip until his mouth touched hers, just a silken brush at first, gently seductive. She knew she should step back, but desire rooted her feet to the floor. She heard a low moan of hunger and knew it was her own.
As if that helpless sound was the signal he’d been waiting for, McKinnon’s arms slid around her, pulling her against his hard, powerful body. Helpless to do anything else, Val let her lips part. His tongue glided in and circled hers. Unable to resist, she suckled the wet, teasing flesh. Growling, he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry against hers.
His skin felt cool from his shower, wet under her hands as she wrapped her arms around him to dig her nails into his shoulders. His body was all ridges and hollows, so hard and strong she had to draw back to gasp.
He suckled thirstily at the corner of her mouth, then tasted his way down her chin until her spinning head fell back. He pressed a trail of burning kisses along the thin flesh of her neck. Val clung dizzily to him, whimpering at the intensity of her rising need. His teeth scraped her skin, a tiny pain…
And she saw her mother, twisting in agony as Hirsch sank his fangs into her throat. Remembered her dream of Cowboy feeding from that strange woman as he fucked and used her.
That memory touched off one even more frightening: Cade’s horrifying vampire Hunger seventeen years before. The experience that had scored nightmares into her brain like raking claws. A chill rolled over her, cutting through the erotic spell he’d woven so skillfully. Val jerked back, slapping her cuffed hands against his chest. “What are you doing?”
“Making love to you,” he murmured, his eyes all velvet darkness as his muscled arms tightened.
Oh, God, she thought wildly. What do I do if he won’t stop?