His Dark Embrace

  “Anything else?”

  She shrugged. “You smell like death.”

  Damn, she was good. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I told you. I’m Miya. Van Helsing.”

  “Van Helsing?” He snorted. “Are you kidding me?”

  She laughed. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re lying.” She didn’t smell like a vampire, but she didn’t smell human, either. Try as he might, Kaiden couldn’t figure out what she was, or what she was up to.

  “Believe what you like. Why should I lie?”

  “Because if you were a true descendent of Abraham Van Helsing, you’d be hunting vampires, not offering to feed them.”

  “No way.” She shuddered delicately. “Taking heads or hearts is far too messy, and not nearly as satisfying.” She moved closer, her hand sliding seductively across his chest. “So, what do you say?”

  “I think I’d be a fool to trust you.”

  She ran her hands down the front of her dress. “Do I look like I’m hiding a weapon anywhere?”

  He laughed softly. Her clingy black dress fit like a second skin, defining every luscious curve. The only thing under that dress was Miya herself, and that, in itself, was a dangerous weapon.

  “I’d be the best you ever had.”

  “Honey, the best I ever had is waiting for me at home.”

  “I can’t believe you’re turning me down!” she exclaimed. “No one has ever told me no.”

  “I believe you.”

  “But you don’t want me?” She was angry now.

  He was about to tell her he was sorry when he caught the scent of a newly made vampire. He glanced over Miya’s head, muttered a vile oath when he saw Desmarais enter the club.

  Being a vampire certainly agreed with the former hunter. Dressed in an expertly tailored black suit that would have done Valentino proud, Girard Desmarais strolled into the club as if he owned it. There was no sign of age in his stride or his posture. His gray hair appeared thicker, his skin, though still lined with age, looked distinguished instead of merely old.

  Desmarais came to an abrupt halt when he saw Thorne.

  Murmuring, “Excuse me,” Thorne moved past Miya to confront his old enemy.

  “I’m not looking for any trouble in here,” Desmarais said, his voice pitched low so that only Thorne could hear.

  “I trust Cassandra told you everything you need to know about your new lifestyle.”

  “She told me I need to ask your permission to stay in Vista Verde. Any point in my doing that?”

  “You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Do whatever you want, old man. But if you come after me again, I’ll destroy you.”

  Desmarais snorted. “You can try.”

  Thorne grinned. “If I don’t get you, Cassandra will.” He jerked his thumb in Miya’s direction. “She’s looking for a bite. Of course, I don’t know how she feels about old men or old blood.” He laughed softly. “You might be a good match at that. She claims to come from a long line of hunters.”

  Before Desmarais could reply, Thorne murmured, “Have fun,” and went in search of more suitable prey.

  It didn’t take long. His choice for the evening was a woman he had sought out on other occasions. Olivia was an attractive brunette in her early fifties. She had been a member of the Goth scene ever since her husband passed away fifteen years ago. Thorne liked her because she knew when to talk and when to be quiet, because she was willing to satisfy his thirst for blood as well as slake his physical desire when he was in the mood.

  She smiled at his approach. No words were necessary between them. Taking her by the hand, he led her into one of the cribs in the back. The rooms were small, bare of all but the simplest furnishings, and reserved for vampire use only.

  She required no foreplay, no words of seduction. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tilted her head to one side in silent invitation.

  With a sigh, Thorne sat down and drew Olivia into his embrace, his fangs extending as the scent of her blood called to him. She was sweet, her blood satisfying on many levels, yet even as he drank, he couldn’t help wishing it was Skylynn he held in his arms, Skylynn’s soft moans of pleasure that whispered through the room.

  “Miss Van Helsing?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Girard said sincerely. “I’m a great fan of Abraham’s. He’s one of the reasons I got into vampire hunting.” It was partly true, Girard mused, along with the fact his father and grandfather had been slayers.

  “You’re a hunter?” she asked, her expression skeptical.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t doubt it for a minute, lady,” he said, his voice like ice. “I’m the best slayer still living.”

  “Except you aren’t living.”

  “How the hell would you know?”

  “It’s a gift. You’re a vampire, recently turned, unless I miss my guess. And I never miss.”

  Girard studied her, his eyes narrowed. “You’re a hunter, too.” It wasn’t a question.

  She laughed softly. “I’m many things.”

  Girard stared at her, completely baffled. Who the hell was she? What was she? He had been around a long time and he had never heard of a mortal who could discern vampire from human, nor had he ever seen a vampire hunter who possessed the voluptuous body of a siren and the angelic face of a saint.

  She held out a hand in invitation. “Shall we go?”

  “Go?”

  She pressed her fingertips to the pulse in the hollow of her throat. “Didn’t you come here to feed?”

  He nodded.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  Girard stared at her, his mind reeling. He knew there were people who got off on having vampires feed on them, but there was something about Miya that didn’t ring true. Why was she so eager? Just what was she up to, really?

  He took a step backward. He hadn’t survived as a slayer as long as he had by ignoring his instincts, and every instinct he possessed was screaming a warning.

  And yet ... his fangs extended as he imagined holding that curvy young body in his arms and taking what she was so blatantly offering.

  “You’ll hurt my feelings if you say no,” she said, pouting. “It’s bad enough that Kaiden turned me down.”

  “He did?”

  Miya nodded. “Some men are afraid of a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it.” She ran one dark red nail across his cheek. “Are you afraid?”

  Girard shook his head. What did he have to be afraid of? He was a vampire. Sure, he was newly turned, but he had been sired by an ancient vampire, which made him stronger than an ordinary fledgling. As for Miya, hell, she couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

  Miya smiled as she reached forward, took him by the hand, and led him toward the rooms in the back.

  And even as Girard followed her, the words like a lamb to the slaughter played in the back of his mind.

  Olivia straightened the collar of her dress. “Will you stay the night?”

  Thorne winced inwardly. He should have seen this coming. “Olivia ...”

  “Please, Kaiden.”

  How could he say yes? How could he say no? She had given herself to him for years and never asked for anything in return other than to spend an occasional night in his arms. But, because of Skylynn, things were different now. True, they hadn’t made any commitments to each other, but how could he take Olivia to bed when it was Sky he loved? Doing so would be a betrayal of the worst kind.

  He took a deep breath. “Olivia, listen to me,” he began, then stopped.

  “What ... ?”

  “Shh.” Rising, he cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed. There it was again. A muted cry for help. Muttering, “Stay here,” he was out the door before she realized he was gone.

  T
he muffled cry came from the last room at the end of the hall. Thorne didn’t bother with the door, but simply dissolved into mist and slipped through the crack.

  Desmarais was on the other side, fighting Miya for his life.

  Only, she didn’t look like Miya now. With her supernatural glamour gone, she was no longer a beautiful woman but a skeletal black-haired demon with wrinkled gray skin and blazing yellow eyes. She sat astride Desmarais’ hips, one gnarled hand circling his throat.

  She hissed as Thorne materialized inside the room. “Go!” She pointed at the door with a long, skinny finger.

  “Go, or I’ll kill him.”

  Damn. What kind of demon was she? Not a succubus. They came to men, especially monks, by night and seduced them. This creature wasn’t looking for sex.

  A mutant, then? Some kind of vampire succubus who drained men, not only of their blood, but of their life’s essence, as well. What better place for such a one to hunt than a Goth club?

  “Go!” The demon’s voice was shrill now, her agitation growing.

  Thorne shrugged. “Kill him if you wish. He’s no friend of mine.”

  Desmarais stared at him, his eyes bulging with fear.

  The demon studied Thorne curiously, and then she smiled, displaying yellowed teeth and fangs. “Come, join me.”

  With a nod, Thorne moved toward the bed. With the demon watching him intently, he bent toward Desmarais’ neck, his own fangs running out at the scent of fresh blood on the hunter’s neck.

  A cackle rose in the demon’s throat as she again bent her head to Desmarais’ neck.

  A choked cry issued from Desmarais’ lips as the demon’s teeth sank into his flesh.

  Thorne was moving, too. With all the speed at his command, he grabbed a handful of the demon’s hair and hurled her against the wall. She hit it with a loud thud and a snarl and then simply disappeared.

  Thorne stepped away from the bed. In all his 432 years as a vampire, he had never seen another supernatural creature disappear like that.

  Desmarais sat up, one hand massaging his throat. “What the hell? Why’d you save ... ?”

  “If anyone’s going to destroy you, I want it to be me.”

  Desmarais stood. With a visible effort of will, he gathered his dignity around him. “This doesn’t change anything between us.”

  “I didn’t think it would,” Thorne replied. “But if you’re still determined to take my head, you might want to be a little more circumspect in your choice of prey in the future.”

  Desmarais glared at him.

  With a wave of his hand, Thorne left the room.

  The sound of Desmarais grinding his teeth in anger followed him out the door.

  “A demon?” Skylynn exclaimed after inviting Kaiden into the house. “You saw a demon?” Good Lord, first vampires and now demons. Suddenly chilled, she sat on the sofa and drew her feet underneath her. “Why didn’t you kill it?”

  “I didn’t have the time or the proper incantation.” Thorne sat on the other end of the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him. “It isn’t easy, you know. You need to use the proper words for an exorcism. Besides, she wasn’t your ordinary, run-of-the-mill succubus. I’ve never known one to drink blood.”

  “A blood-drinking succubus,” Sky muttered. “What next? Flying monkeys? Giant ants? Aliens from outer space? Werewolves?” She was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop, couldn’t wrap her mind around the possibility that there might be worse things than vampires lurking in the dark.

  Suddenly chilled, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, then took a deep breath. “What are you going to do about Desmarais?”

  “Wait and see what his next move will be, I guess.”

  “I can’t believe you saved his life,” she muttered, and then clapped her hand over her mouth as she realized how bloodthirsty that sounded. She had never wished anyone ill before. She believed it was a sin to take a human life. There were exceptions, of course, like self-defense or to protect one’s home and family but, by and large, murder was morally wrong. Where did that leave Thorne? How many lives had he taken in his long existence? And why did she have to think about that now?

  “I’m supposed to be the bloodthirsty one in our twosome,” Thorne remarked dryly.

  “I can’t believe I said that. I’ve never wished anyone was dead before.”

  “You’re probably right. I should have destroyed him.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “He’s made no secret of the fact that he intends to kill me.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t really blame him. I killed his wife years ago. He’s never forgiven me for that.”

  “His wife?” She couldn’t disguise the horror in her voice. “Why did you do that?”

  “I did what I had to do to survive.”

  “But ... a woman. How could you?”

  “Marie Desmarais was a vampire hunter and a damn good one. It was her life or mine.”

  “He had a wife? I thought he was a monk.”

  “Apparently her death hit him hard. For a time, he sought refuge in a monastery rumored to welcome retired hunters. I’m not sure if any of the other slayers who reside there are avowed monks or not. As for Desmarais, whether he’s priest or vampire, he’ll always be a slayer at heart. Nothing will change that.”

  “Let me get this straight. Desmarais was a hunter, then a monk, and now he’s a vampire?”

  “Yeah. And no matter what hat he’s wearing, he wants me dead.”

  Skylynn shook her head, more amazed than ever that Kaiden had saved the man’s life.

  “Are there other vampires living in Vista Verde?”

  Thorne’s brow went up in silent mockery at her use of the word living. And then he shook his head. “No, I’m the only one who maintains a permanent residence in the town at the moment.” There were vampires in surrounding cities, but he thought Sky would rest easier without that knowledge.

  Sky closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Not long ago, she had been blissfully unaware that there were unearthly creatures in the world. Her life, though plagued by sorrow, had been rather mundane. Now, in a matter of weeks, all that had changed.

  She had learned that Kaiden was a vampire, and before she had fully come to terms with that inconceivable reality, he had informed her that not only were there vampires, but demons, as well. What other monsters lurked out there in the shadows?

  Thorne didn’t have to read her mind to know what she was thinking. It was clearly written on her face—the shock, the disbelief. Life was easier when you didn’t know that the scary creatures of myth and legend were real. No doubt she was wishing she could turn the clock back to a time when she believed monsters were make-believe.

  As one of those monsters, there were times when Thorne wished he, too, could return to that state of blissful ignorance.

  Chapter 22

  Thorne draped his arm across the back of the sofa, his gaze on Skylynn’s face. She was staring at the fireplace, her expression troubled. Life was easier when you didn’t know the monsters were real. He resisted the urge to read her mind. If she was going to tell him good-bye, he didn’t want to know about it any sooner than he had to. The thought of losing her, of never seeing her smile or hearing her laugh, never touching her again, was beyond bearing.

  He had endured a lot of misery in the last four hundred years. Even though his parents had disowned him, he had mourned their passing. Love them or hate them, they had given him life. As a vampire, he had never let himself fall in love, but he had watched many men and women he had grown fond of leave this world. It wasn’t easy, watching people you cared about wither and die, and after a while he had refused to care too deeply.

  He had kept to himself, doing what he had to do to survive, occasionally mingling with others of his kind. For decades, he had lived a self-imposed solitary existence. Until he moved back to Vista Verde and became acquainted with Paddy and his grandchildren. He had watched Sam and Skylynn grow up and taken pride in their acc
omplishments.

  If he lost Skylynn now, after sharing his life with her, after making love to her, he wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to survive the loss.

  “Sky Blue, talk to me.”

  With a sigh, she turned to face him. “I don’t know what to say. It all sounds so far-fetched. I’m not sure how to feel or what to think.”

  “That’s understandable,” he said, careful to keep his voice impassive. “Nobody likes to think there are flesh-and-blood monsters in the world.”

  She stared at him, and then frowned. “You’re not a monster, Kaiden.”

  “No? I’ve done some pretty monstrous things in my day.”

  “So, that’s how you think of yourself?”

  “Not when I’m with you.” Gaining his feet, he moved toward the hearth. He stood with his back toward her, one hand braced against the mantel. “If you knew some of the things I’ve done ...”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, and then, when he didn’t answer right away, she added, “It’s all in the past. Isn’t it?”

  He nodded, but didn’t turn to face her.

  “Kaiden?”

  “I know what I’ve done. I know what I’m capable of. When I started reverting, after Paddy’s potion wore off ... you don’t know how hard it was to control the urge to kill. You don’t know”—his voice fell to a whisper—“how badly I wanted to drink from you and never stop.” He shook his head. “I’ve been kidding myself, thinking I can control what I am and keep you safe.”

  “I’m not afraid. I know you won’t hurt me.”

  “I wish I could be as sure.” Earlier, he had considered what it would be like to live without her now that he’d come to know her so well. Now that he loved her. And loving her, he realized that every moment she spent with him put her life in danger.

  “What are you trying to say?” Her voice broke on the last word because it sounded like he was working on good-bye. How could that be? After all they had been through, after the wonderful night they had spent in each other’s arms, surely he wasn’t planning to leave?

  “I just want what’s best for you, Sky Blue, and I’m not sure it’s me.”