Micah whistled softly as a hostess led them to a high-backed booth that offered privacy from prying eyes. “If I didn’t know better, Miss Parrish, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”
“I’m not . . . I mean . . .” Feeling herself blush, Holly was grateful for the dim light that hid her heated cheeks.
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Micah said. “Would you care to dance?”
“Well,” she said, smiling up at him, “that is why we came.”
Hand in hand, they made their way to the dance area, which was like nothing Micah had ever seen before. Tiny twinkling lights outlined the boundary of the floor while the floor itself, lit from beneath, was a sea of constantly changing colors.
Micah drew Holly into his arms, noting yet again how well they fit together. She followed his lead as if they had danced together all their lives.
Holly gazed up at Micah. He had the most incredible eyes. Bedroom eyes, she thought, and felt her cheeks grow hotter. He was an amazing dancer, so light on his feet she found herself looking down to see if he was indeed touching the floor. The way he looked at her, the way he held her, made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the place. His eyes . . . she couldn’t seem to look away. Confusion filled her as his voice sounded in her mind, whispering soft, soothing words that made the room and everything in it slip away until there was only the two of them dancing in a red haze to music she could no longer hear.
“Holly, would you like another drink?”
“What?” She blinked up at him, surprised to find they were back in their booth. She stared at the empty glass in front of her. She didn’t remember ordering anything.
“A drink, Holly. Do you want another martini?” Her face was a trifle pale. He hadn’t intended to take more than a sip of her blood. Had he taken too much? Or was she just extra sensitive to a vampire’s bite?
“No, I don’t think so.” Had she only had one? She felt light-headed, disoriented.
“I think I’d better take you . . .” The words died in Micah’s throat when he caught Leticia Braga’s scent. Peering over the back of the booth, he saw the vampire and her bodyguard standing near the entrance, scanning the room.
Braga’s gaze settled on Micah. She spoke to Mahlon, and they split up, moving toward Micah from opposite sides.
“Dammit!”
Wondering what had Micah so upset, Holly looked over the back of the booth. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary other than a very large man and a scary-looking woman. “Micah . . . ?”
“Not now.” Shit. He didn’t know why Braga was after him, but he didn’t intend to stick around to find out. Or leave Holly behind and at the vampire’s mercy.
Muttering, “Hang on,” he grabbed Holly’s purse, wrapped his arms around her, and closed his eyes.
Holly let out a muffled shriek as his preternatural power engulfed her.
A moment later, they stood on the bridge at the entrance of Morgan Creek.
Looking dazed and confused, Holly stared up at Micah. “What just happened? Where are we?”
Micah considered how best to answer her question, but before he could decide between the hard truth or a lie, Rylan Saintcrow materialized in front of them.
Holly stared at Saintcrow, all the color draining from her face. And then she fainted.
“Pretty girl,” Saintcrow remarked as Micah caught Holly in his arms.
“Yeah.”
“So, what brings the two of you to town?”
“Leticia Braga.”
“She’s here?” Saintcrow asked, a faint note of worry evident in his voice.
“No. We were in a club in L.A., minding our own business, when she came in with her bodyguard. She was looking for me.”
“Go on.”
“I wasn’t about to stand and fight, not with Holly there. I couldn’t leave her behind, and I couldn’t take her home for fear Braga would follow us there.” Micah shrugged. “So I brought her here. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Does she know what you are?”
“Not yet.”
Saintcrow grunted softly. “That should be an interesting discussion.”
“Yeah.” Definitely not one Micah was looking forward to having.
“Why don’t you stay at Blair House?” Saintcrow suggested. “It’s the safest lair next to my own.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll put the wards up on the bridge.”
“You want to keep Braga in if she comes here?”
“No, you idiot. I’ll reverse the wards to keep her out.”
“What about her bodyguard? Will they work on him, too?”
“They’ll keep everybody out, except for you, me, and Kadie. Everybody, and everything.”
Micah nodded, then frowned. “You’re not afraid of her, are you? Braga, I mean?”
“No. I can handle her. It’s Mahlon that worries me. Like I told you, I don’t know what he is, but she’s invincible when he’s with her. A lot of hunters have tried to take her out. They’re all dead.” He lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s Kadie. I sired her, and that makes her more powerful than most. But she’s no match for Leticia. And neither are you.”
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”
Saintcrow flashed a wry grin. “Bring your friend up to my place tomorrow night. I’m sure Kadie would like to meet her.”
Micah glanced at the woman in his arms. Somehow, he doubted Holly would be interested in meeting Kadie.
* * *
Holly woke with a start to find Micah watching her, his expression pensive. “What happened?” She glanced around the room, eyes narrowed and filled with confusion. “Where are we? How did we get here?”
“I needed to get out of California in a hurry,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “And I brought you with me.”
She sat up, her gaze quickly taking in her surroundings. They were in a large, sparsely furnished, rectangular room. A fireplace took up most of one wall. A tall bookcase dominated the opposite one. A coffee table separated the sofa on which she sat from the one across from it. “Brought me where?”
“Morgan Creek.”
“But, that’s impossible. You said it was in Wyoming.” She cradled her head in her hands. “I feel so strange.”
“Look at me, Holly.”
She looked at him warily, fear replacing the confusion in the depths of her eyes. “I want to go home.”
“Yeah. About that, I’m afraid it’s not an option at the moment.”
“Are you kidnapping me? If it’s money you’re after, you’re out of luck. My folks aren’t millionaires by any means.”
“It’s late. Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow?”
“No! We’ll talk now.”
“You’re tired,” he said, his voice low, hypnotic. “So tired you can’t keep your eyes open.”
“Tired,” she murmured.
“That’s right. Just relax. You’re going to go to sleep now, and you won’t wake up until the sun sets tomorrow.”
Her head lolled back on the sofa, her eyelids fluttering down as her body went limp.
Lifting her into his arms, Micah carried her down the hall and into one of the larger bedrooms. He lowered her onto the mattress and undressed her down to her lacey black bra and panties. Desire knifed through him. Tucking her under the covers, he wondered if she had expected him to seduce her, or if she just liked pretty underwear.
He studied her for several moments before leaving the bedroom.
He had never been inside Blair House before. It had once been the lair of the Morgan Creek vampires.
Now, he wandered from room to room. A number of vampires—seven men and one woman—had lived here for decades. Their scent lingered in the drapes and the carpets, in the very air. Kiel had been killed by Saintcrow for attacking Kadie. Micah wondered where the rest had gone—Nolan, Trent, Felix, Quinn, Wes, Darrick. Though he hadn’t known any of them well, he
couldn’t help wondering how they were faring out in the human world on their own. They had been prisoners as much as the humans they preyed on in Morgan Creek, but they had been safe from hunters.
He paused outside one of the doors. Though he had never been here before, he knew the room had belonged to Morgan Creek’s lone female vampire. Lilith. Even after five years, her scent remained strong. She had died in this room, destroyed by a hunter, after Saintcrow sent the humans and vampires away.
Leaving the house, Micah strolled through the town. Once the vampires left, Shirley and her friends had turned Morgan Creek into a popular rest area for tourists and travelers. The homes in the residential area, once inhabited by mortals whose sole purpose had been to supply the vampires with blood, had been rented out to tourists in the summer. The restaurant had been redecorated. Some of the old buildings, like the movie theater, had been spruced up.
A new pump had been installed at the gas station, although the old hand pump remained, for sentimental reasons. It had been a favorite picture spot for those visiting the area. Some of the older buildings had been demolished. With Shirley’s passing, Micah had locked up the town. As far as he knew, no one had stayed here until Saintcrow and Kadie returned.
He paused when he passed the restaurant. Seeing it always reminded him of Shirley.
When she had first gotten sick, Micah had insisted she go see a doctor. Sure, she had been pushing fifty, but hell, these days fifty was still young. In spite of numerous tests, the doctor hadn’t been able to diagnose her illness.
Micah had his own ideas about the cause of her rapid decline. He blamed it on the years she had spent nourishing the vampires of Morgan Creek. To his way of thinking, the deaths of her friends could also be blamed on the vampires. It just wasn’t natural for humans to be trapped in one place like rats in a cage, or to give blood so often. Of course, they hadn’t really “given” their life’s blood. It had been taken from them, by force, if necessary.
But that was old news.
A thought took him to the cemetery located not far from Saintcrow’s lair.
The two women who had most influenced his life, save for his sweet mother, were buried here. He stood at Lilith’s grave, remembering the night she had turned him. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the horror of waking as a new vampire, abandoned by his sire, with no idea how to survive in a world that was no longer his.
Had Saintcrow not taken pity on him and taught him how to survive, had Shirley not given him the love and support he so desperately needed, Micah feared he would have turned into nothing more than a killing machine, some mindless monster without a hint of humanity.
Moving to Shirley’s grave, he knelt to run his hands over the earth that covered her. Murmuring, “Rest well, sweetheart,” he headed back to Blair House to check on Holly.
After tomorrow night, Holly’s life, her view of the world around her, would never be the same again.
* * *
Leticia Braga cursed long and loud as the vampire she was hunting vanished. One minute he had been in a booth with some mortal female; the next he was gone, taking the woman with him.
She was not surprised by the fact that he had disappeared so quickly, or the fact that he’d recognized her as one of the Undead. Both were abilities known to all vampires. What surprised her was that he knew she was hunting him.
How had he known that? And who was he, anyway? What was his connection to Saintcrow? Had Saintcrow turned him?
She shook her head. Whoever the vampire was, he had been recently turned and not by a master vampire.
Saintcrow. Just the thought of him filled her with unspeakable anger. She had spent centuries alone, estranged from her twin brother ever since the night she had turned him against his will. Seeking companionship, she had wandered the world, becoming more and more bitter with every passing year, losing more and more of her humanity.
And then she’d met Gavin. His love had given her hope for the future; his acceptance of what she was, his willingness to accept the Dark Gift, had taken the sting from the past. She had felt reborn, alive again. She had never been a beauty, but Gavin made her feel feminine, soft. Desirable.
Most astonishing of all, his love had somehow filled the emptiness inside her. Suddenly, she didn’t need to feed as often. Hunting no longer thrilled her. Now, it was Gavin who satisfied her craving for blood, for acceptance, for love. Her sire had abandoned her. Her parents were long dead. Her brother would not speak to her. But none of that mattered now. Gavin had become her whole world.
And then, all too soon, he was gone, destroyed by Ryan Saintcrow. Gavin’s death had stripped away the last of her humanity, snuffed out any and all hope for the future, leaving her with nothing but hatred that burned away every other thought, every other emotion, save one: her need to destroy Saintcrow.
And do it she would, if she had to chase him across the world and through all eternity.
Chapter Eight
Holly woke abruptly, the lingering images of her dreams still fresh in her mind.
Strange dreams, she thought, until she sat up and realized she was in a strange bed in a strange room, and that it was dark outside.
She glanced at her watch, then bolted upright. Good Lord, had she been drugged? She had been asleep for almost twelve hours!
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she realized she wasn’t wearing anything but her bra and panties. Who had undressed her?
“Good evening.”
Holly pulled the covers up to her chin at the sound of his voice. “So, it wasn’t a dream.” He looked well-rested, she noted, and as roguishly handsome as always. She clutched the blankets tighter, as if they could protect her. “Did you undress me?”
“Yes, but I didn’t look.”
She lifted one brow in blatant disbelief.
“Well, not much. I went back to your house late last night and packed you a few things.” He jerked his chin toward a familiar dark blue suitcase near the door.
“That was very thoughtful,” she said politely, “but I’d like to go home now.”
He shook his head. “Not just yet.”
Holly stared at him, a trickle of unease skittering down her spine. “Micah, I want to go home. Now.” She tried to sound adamant, but there was no mistaking the apprehension in her voice. She heard it, and so did he.
“It isn’t safe.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “Just listen for a minute. Someone’s after me. They know I’ve been with you, which means your life might be in danger.”
“I don’t believe you.” She darted a glance at the open door, wondering what the chances were of getting past him, but even if she could, she could hardly go running into the night in her underwear. Who knew what lurked out there? “Why would some stranger want to hurt me?”
“Because they think by hurting you, they would be hurting me.”
“But . . . but that’s ridiculous. We hardly know each other.”
“She doesn’t know that.”
“She?” Visions of a jealously insane wife flitted through her mind. “Good Lord, you are married!”
“It’s nothing like that, believe me.” He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “She’s actually after Saintcrow. I guess she’s hoping I’ll lead her to him.”
“Is he the man I saw last night before I . . . before I fainted?” She shook her head. “I’ve never fainted before.”
“Well, you had good reason. Why don’t you get dressed? There’s some food in the kitchen. You must be hungry.”
Now that he’d mentioned it, Holly realized she was starving. She would get dressed and grab something to eat, and then she was leaving, one way or another.
With a wry smile, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Holly sat there for several moments, trying to gather her thoughts. Last night, she had been in California. Tonight she was in Wyoming. Someone was looking for Micah and because of that, her own life might be in danger...
.
Wyoming. How had they gotten to Wyoming? It was a blur, making her wonder again if he had drugged her. She had no memory of leaving the club, no memory of how they had gotten here, or of what had happened in between.
Tamping down her growing sense of anxiety, she got out of bed and rummaged through her suitcase. She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a sweater. She found her hairbrush, which she put to good use. Her handbag was on the chair. Reaching inside, she withdrew her cell phone, frowned when there were no bars. Maybe outside, she thought, tucking the phone into her pocket as she left the bedroom.
The house was large and cold, and for no reason she could pinpoint, the place gave her the creeps. There was no sense of anyone living there, no knickknacks, no pictures on the walls. She peeked into the rooms she passed on her way downstairs. The bedroom she had slept in was just one of many. All were furnished with a bed and a dresser and nothing more.
In the kitchen, she found a large ice chest on the floor filled with soft drinks and a couple of apples. A bucket of take-out chicken waited on the counter, along with a plate and a fork. There were no appliances to be seen, no table or chairs. Curious, she looked inside the cupboards. They were all empty. Did Micah live here? Maybe he had just moved in and his new appliances hadn’t yet arrived.
Feeling as though she were trapped inside some bizarre universe, she filled the plate with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw, grabbed a Coke from the ice chest, and went into the living room to eat.
Micah sat on one of the sofas, waiting for her.
Holly sat on the opposite couch, the plate balanced on her lap. “Aren’t you having any?”
His gaze moved to the hollow of her throat. “I’ve already eaten.”
Holly nodded. She ate quickly, conscious of him watching her, but too hungry to care. When she finished, she put the plate aside, took a deep breath, and said, “I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I thought I gave you one earlier.”
“How did we get here?”
Micah stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his arms over his chest, watching her like a cat at a mouse hole all the while.