Night's Surrender

  “Not one.” After dropping the brush into a box filled with curry combs, hoof picks, and a bottle of fly spray, Abbey lifted the mare’s front foot and checked the hoof. “Dad, I might have forced Nick to do something I shouldn’t have.”

  Pausing in the act of currying his horse, Rane glanced at his daughter. “Go on.”

  “Well, I . . . that is, the other night, I was thinking about becoming a vampire . . .”

  “What brought that on? You’ve never wanted it before.”

  “I know.” She pried a bit of dirt out of the mare’s hoof. “But I’m the only mortal in the family and I’m starting to feel like I don’t belong.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Dad, just listen.” Abbey studied the pick in her hand as if she had never seen one before. “I was thinking about asking Nick to turn me and one thing led to another, and I started thinking about all the people Nick has killed and that made me wonder if becoming a vampire would . . . would . . .”

  Rane frowned. “If it would what, honey?”

  “Put my soul in danger.”

  He stared at her, speechless.

  “Have you ever worried about that?”

  “Often enough,” he admitted ruefully. “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. I’ve taken human lives.” He rested his forearms on the back of the horse. “What does any of this have to do with Nick?”

  “I asked him to go to confession.”

  Rane’s jaw dropped and then, to Abbey’s astonishment, he burst out laughing.

  “Dad! Dad, it’s not funny!”

  “Man, I’d like to be the priest who hears that confession.”

  “Stop laughing! Did I do the right thing?”

  “I don’t know, honey. But as old as Nick is, I imagine it’ll be a good, long while before he comes home.”

  Rane thought about his conversation with Abbey as he walked back to the house later that day. He and his brother had become vampires the night after their thirteenth birthday. The guilt of his first kill remained with him to this day. He remembered the face of every man and woman whose life he had taken, but no matter how he had tried to justify what he’d done, in his heart he thought of himself as a monster. But his daughter didn’t need to know that.

  He had once asked Mara if it ever bothered her to take a life. To this day, he clearly remembered her reply.

  I am a vampire. It was not something I sought, nor was it bequeathed to me of my own choosing. I could have spent my existence bewailing my fate. Instead, I chose to embrace what I am. I am Nosferatu. It is my nature to hunt, to kill, just as it is yours. If peace is what you are searching for, you will never find it until you fully accept who and what you are. There is no going back, Rane. There is no magic cure. You are what you were born to be.

  It had been good advice.

  He wondered what advice the priest had given Nick.

  Abbey was a nervous wreck as she waited for Nick to return. She wondered again if she had done the right thing. Maybe he had come to terms with his past. Maybe going to see Father Lanzoni would only stir up old memories of people and places he would rather forget.

  She tried to read. She tried to watch TV. She unpacked the last box from the move. And still he didn’t come home.

  It was near midnight when he materialized in the living room.

  “Nick?” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m so sorry. I never should have asked you to . . .”

  “It’s all right, love.” He sank down on the sofa beside her. “I had a long talk with the good Father.”

  “So, you’re not mad at me?”

  “No.” He slipped his arm around her shoulder. “It did me a lot of good.”

  “So, what did he say? Did he give you absolution?”

  “Hey, that’s between me and my priest.”

  She quirked a brow at him. “Your priest?”

  “Lanzoni gave me hope,” Nick said after a moment. “He said the Lord is merciful, that He judges each of us individually, according to the times we lived in, the intent of our hearts . . . you know, the usual. He had a lot more to say, but that’s between him and me.” Nick squeezed her hand. “He’s a good man.”

  “So are you, Nick Desanto,” Abbey murmured fervently. “So are you.”

  Abbey was at the barn bright and early the next morning. Feeling lighthearted, she hummed softly as she fed the stock. Nick had gone to confession, and even though he hadn’t told her everything Father Lanzoni had said, he admitted it had done him good. It had done her good, too, she thought. Maybe vampires weren’t cursed, or damned for eternity.

  She had decided to put thinking about becoming a vampire on the back burner for a year or two. As she’d told her mother, she was young and healthy. There was no hurry.

  She smiled as she filled the water barrels. Life was good and only promised to get better. She loved Nick more with every passing day. She loved having a home of her own. There were things she missed, now that Nick was a vampire again. Little things, like sitting down to dinner with him, but, all things considered, she had never been happier.

  She puttered around the barn for a while and then, thinking it was too beautiful a day to spend working, she decided to exercise Freckles. Forgoing a saddle, she bridled the mare and led her into the exercise corral.

  She soon grew bored riding in the arena. After saddling Freckles, she rode out of the yard. She had stayed close to home since the kidnapping and she had every intention of doing so today. But Freckles was feeling frisky and eager to run.

  “All right,” Abbey said, patting the mare’s neck. “We’ll ride out to the shack, but no farther.”

  Abbey sighed as she turned Freckles toward home. Given her druthers, she would have ridden for hours.

  She was thinking about what to fix for lunch when something slammed into her chest and knocked her out of the saddle.

  Stunned, she lay there a moment, wondering what had happened. It was only when she tried to sit up that she felt the pain. When she touched her chest, her hand came away bloody. Horrified, she glanced down. Her shirt was covered with blood.

  She’d been shot.

  Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a woman stood over her. A woman who looked vaguely familiar. “Berta.”

  “Know who I am, do you? Good. You killed my sister, you vampire-loving whore. In another minute, you’ll be dead, and then I’m going after the rest of your bloodsucking family.”

  “Nick . . . no . . .”

  Nick!

  Abbey’s vision narrowed. The world grew dark, darker. In her mind, she screamed for Nick, but it was too late.

  A black pit yawned before her. Helpless to resist, she slid over the edge into oblivion.

  Nick!

  Abbey’s voice penetrated the darkness that surrounded him. Rising from his lair, he followed the link between them with all the speed at his command. Nearing the shack, he dissolved into mist when he sensed the presence of a hunter. When he was behind the woman, he resumed his own form. Grabbing the rifle from her hand, he tossed it aside, then turned her to face him.

  He felt the rage build inside him. He had vowed to rip the heart out of whoever kidnapped Abbey. Time and circumstance and Abbey’s presence had prevented him from fulfilling that vow with the other two, but Fate had kindly granted him one more chance.

  The hunter stared at him defiantly. “What are you waiting for, bloodsucker?”

  “I just wanted you to know who killed you,” he said.

  And kept his promise.

  After tossing the body aside, he wiped his hands on his jeans, then lifted Abbey in his arms and willed them home.

  In their room, he laid her gently on the bed and peeled away her shirt. He stared at the ugly bullet wound above her heart, at the blood smeared across her breasts.

  So much blood.

  Had he arrived too late to save her?

  Eternally too late?

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Nic
k dropped to his knees beside the bed, Abbey’s hand clutched tightly in his. She couldn’t be dead, not now. Not after all they had been through. But even with his preternatural hearing, he couldn’t detect a heartbeat. She wasn’t breathing.

  He bit into his wrist, praying that he wasn’t too late, that there was still a spark of life deep within her. Parting lips that were already turning blue, he held his wrist over her mouth, watched anxiously as each dark red drop dripped onto her tongue.

  “Drink, love.” He stroked her throat in an effort to make her swallow. “Dammit, Abbey, don’t you dare die on me!”

  He felt a rush of power as Mara and Logan materialized on the other side of the bed.

  Mara glanced at Abbey, lying still and silent, her clothing drenched in blood. At the blood on Nick’s hands. “What happened?”

  He answered without looking up. “She was shot by the other woman who kidnapped her. Drink, Abbey. Come on, love, drink.”

  “Is this what she wants?” Logan asked quietly.

  “We discussed it,” Nick said. “She wanted to wait a few years, but that’s no longer an option.” He bit into his wrist again, deeper this time, so that a steady stream trickled into her mouth. She swallowed once. Twice. “That’s it, love.” Relief swept through him when she reached for his arm.

  Some of the color returned to her cheeks as she continued to drink.

  Mara laid a hand on his shoulder. “Nick, you can’t give her enough blood to sustain her through the change.”

  “I don’t care if she takes all I’ve got.”

  “Let me help.”

  “No!” He shook his head. “She’s mine.”

  “She’ll still be sired to you, Nick, but my blood is more powerful than yours. She won’t need as much.”

  Reluctantly, he withdrew his arm and let Mara take his place. Ordinarily, when a vampire turned a mortal, the vampire drank the mortal’s blood and then gave it back. In this case, there had been no blood left for Nick to drink, but that didn’t matter. He had tasted Abbey before. She had tasted him. There was already a bond between them. It would be stronger now. Unbreakable as long as one of them lived.

  Minutes later, her heartbeat was steady, her breathing and color normal.

  “She’ll be all right.” Mara licked the wound in her wrist, sealing it. “Have you contacted Rane and Savanah?”

  “Not yet. I thought she was . . .” Unable to say the word, Nick brushed a few blood-stained strands of hair from Abbey’s cheek.

  “And the woman who did this?”

  “She’s dead. Shit! I left the body in the pasture.”

  “Logan, why don’t you go dispose of the body while Nick and I get Abbey out of these bloody clothes?”

  With a nod, he left the room.

  “Nick, go wash up.”

  He was reluctant to be away from Abbey for even a few minutes, but he did as Mara said.

  He returned carrying a wastebasket. He dumped Abbey’s bloody shirt inside. “Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?” Mara removed Abbey’s boots and slid her jeans over her hips.

  He shrugged as he removed Abbey’s bra and dropped it into the basket. “She was as close to being dead as you can get. What if I didn’t get to her in time? What if . . . ?”

  “Stop worrying. With your blood and mine in her veins, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “I hope to hell you’re right.”

  Between them, they got Abbey into her nightgown. Nick tucked her in, then stood by the bed, gazing down at her. He could have lost her tonight. It was a sobering thought.

  Mara laid her hand on his arm. “Do you need anything?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t worry about her. You should get in touch with her parents tonight.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for coming,” he said, but she was already gone.

  Nick caressed Abbey’s cheek. It was cool to the touch. Her breathing was shallow now, her heartbeat slowing, as she sank into the dreamless sleep of his kind.

  She would sleep through the night and tomorrow, and when she woke tomorrow evening, she would be a fledgling vampire, albeit a very powerful one. All that remained was to see how she would handle the transformation. In spite of her decision to accept the Dark Gift in a year or two, talking about the possibility and actually becoming a vampire were two very different things. But she was alive.

  And for now, that was the only thing that mattered.

  Dreading the call he was about to make, Nick moved away from the bed and punched in Rane’s number. He hadn’t finished explaining what had happened when Rane and Savanah materialized inside the bedroom.

  Savanah immediately knelt at her daughter’s side, a pair of crimson tears sliding down her cheeks as she took her daughter’s hand in hers.

  “She’s going to be all right,” Nick said quietly. “I got to her in time.”

  “What happened, exactly?” Rane asked, his gaze on Abbey’s face.

  “She took Freckles out for a ride.”

  Rane frowned. “I’m not sure that was a good idea.”

  “What did you want me to do? Lock her in the house? Believe me, I thought about it, but I knew she was afraid that if she let her fears rule her life, it would cripple her. I didn’t want that to happen.”

  “And the one who did this?”

  “Is rotting in hell,” Nick said curtly.

  “Who was it?”

  “The other woman involved in the kidnapping. Logan disposed of the body.”

  “I know I haven’t treated you with the respect you deserve,” Rane said. “It’s no secret that I was against this marriage from the start, but—” He took a deep breath. “You saved my daughter’s life tonight and for that, I’m forever in your debt.” He squared his shoulders, then held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Nick regarded the other vampire for a moment, then grasped his hand. “It’s all in the past, Cordova. All that matters now is Abbey.”

  She struggled to breathe, to fight off the repulsive creature that was slowly killing her. His fangs tore into her throat, ripping through flesh, piercing her jugular. He was drinking her blood. She could hear him swallowing, feel him stealing the life from her body, taking more and more. Taking it all. She grew weak, weaker. She tried to scream for help, to beg for Nick to come and save her, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

  Darkness closed in around her, thicker, deeper than anything she had ever known. She tried in vain to run from it, but the world around her grew darker, until an endless black void opened in front of her. Helpless to resist, she felt herself being dragged toward it, sliding over the edge of the precipice, falling, falling into a yawning chasm as wide and deep as eternity as all that she was, all that she had hoped for, slowly slipped away into nothingness.

  And then, like a miracle, her mouth filled with liquid fire. It scorched her tongue as it slid down her throat, burning through every cell and fiber of her body, relentless as death itself, until it found the last flickering spark of life smoldering in the very core of her being. Found it and embraced it, ignited it, until that last faint ember blazed with new strength, new life, stealing her soul from eternity’s grasp.

  Clawing, gasping for breath, she fought her way out of the stygian darkness, searching for . . .

  “Nick!”

  “I’m here, love. I’m here.”

  Strong arms wrapped around her, crushing her close. A familiar hand stroked her hair. She felt his tears on her face as he whispered her name.

  Content, she rested her head on his shoulder . . . and frowned.

  Suddenly overcome with a wave of sensations, Abbey drew back, her gaze searching his face. He looked the same, yet different somehow, as if someone had taken blinders from her eyes and she was seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time.

  Her gaze swept the room. It, too, looked the same, yet different. Colors were brighter, more intense. The lights were off, yet she could see everything in sharp
detail—the faint cracks in the walls, the tiny black spider tiptoeing across the ceiling. Her fingers detected each individual thread in Nick’s shirt. Without trying, she heard people stirring downstairs—her parents were here, as well as everyone else in the family. They were talking softly amongst themselves but she heard each word as clearly as if they were in her bedroom. They were all worried about her. Glad she was alive. Grateful that Nick had found her before it was too late.

  Too late? She frowned. Too late for what?

  Her confusion growing, she looked at Nick again.

  And read the truth in his eyes.

  “Forgive me, love,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. “You were a heartbeat away from death.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let you go.”

  She stared at him, her thoughts chaotic. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not yet. She needed time to prepare, to make sure it was the right decision. And now the choice had been taken out of her hands. Her first thought was to rail at him, to scream that he’d had no right to make such a life-shattering decision for her.

  She wrenched herself out of his embrace. She wanted to hit him, to make him hurt....

  “Go ahead. Hit me if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Hands clenching, Abbey stared at him, shocked by the force of her anger. She rarely got mad, and never like this.

  “Everything is heightened,” Nick said quietly. “All your senses. All your emotions. You’ll learn to control them, in time.”

  She took several deep breaths, her anger cooling. How could she be angry with him when he had saved her life? Snatched her from the very jaws of death?

  She still had time to think it over, she reminded herself. She was a new vampire. If, in the next few days, she decided being a vampire wasn’t for her, there was always Pearl’s cure. Hadn’t Mara said it always worked on fledglings?

  “Abbey? Say something.”

  “I’m sorry I got mad. I should be thanking you for saving me.”

  His gaze searched hers, his expression wary. “You don’t hate me, then?”