Dance with Darkness (2 page)

Chapter 3

Lorena

T
hat mysterious scent was going to drive her out of her mind.

Lorena had managed to endure the tantalizing aroma for two hours now, nearly weeping with relief halfway through at the intermission, which had given her a too brief respite in her dressing room. But as soon as she’d returned to the stage after the break, that scent was back, filling her nose and lungs, wrapping itself around her tongue. Even after she stopped breathing, she couldn’t get that aroma out of her head. Couldn’t escape the need pounding at her temples and clawing at her stomach.

Oh sweet Lord how she needed. And because she wasn’t due for another blood transfusion until next week, she’d left all her supplies in her hotel room. She would simply have to find a way to make it through the rest of the show and then at least a half hour of mingling with the audience and signing autographs before she could get away.

For the first time in her life, she’d dreaded returning to the stage and actually looked forward to the end of the show. The source of that scent had managed to turn her home into a prison.

Get a grip on yourself,
she thought as she lay on the fake bed on stage while Jon completed his death solo.

How had this happened? She’d worked so hard for months to pick up the shattered pieces of her life and try to regain what bit of normalcy that she could. She’d treated the drastic changes in her life as she imagined anyone with a disease might. She’d carefully put herself on a schedule, never once missing or even late with her weekly blood transfusions. Though doing so had made her furious that her life was no longer simple and that her body could make such demands from her against her will, she’d done it. And she thought she’d won, that she’d mastered her body’s needs and once again taken back her life.

What had she been thinking? There was no control, no chance of normalcy, no real future for a vampire.

By the time the show ended, she was shaking. She knew her fellow dancers felt it when they clasped her hands for the final curtain bows. But it was all she could do just to keep herself from diving into the audience below to seek out the source of that aroma.

Back in her dressing room, she nearly wept with relief as a new fragrance of flowers hit her.

“Oh thank you,” she whispered, burying her nose in the safe, floral perfume. She kept the tissue wrapped bouquet close to her face while she changed, alternating between holding the flowers with one hand and simply leaning over them at her dressing table as she pulled in deep breaths from the life saving petals. And then she knew what she’d have to do.

Bringing the bouquet with her to the adjoining community hall earned her a few subtle smirks from her fellow dancers and a teasing “prima donna” whisper from Jon as she joined them and the audience. Though he was only joking around as usual, Jon’s comment stung more than a little. She’d always worked so hard not to act like a prima donna, not to let the fame make her act differently. But she couldn’t risk telling her fellow company members the truth. They might treat her like the monster she was.

Swallowing down the hurt, she pasted on a smile and concentrated on fulfilling the new role that had become her life lately…the act of pretending to be human.

Then that dreaded scent, quickly becoming all too familiar this evening, grew stronger.

“Miss Childs!”

Confusion filled her as Chrissy Blake grabbed her for an exuberant hug. She carefully returned the young girl’s hug, nearly staggering as the fragrance formed an invisible cloud over her face. But something was wrong about it. The scent didn’t actually seem to come from Chrissy. Then again, how could it? If Chrissy were the source, Lorena would have known it last week while guest teaching Chrissy’s class at the local dance studio. No, this was more as if Chrissy had been near the source recently.

“You were wonderful!” Chrissy cried, and Lorena tried to smile for the sweet girl as she murmured her thanks.

“Careful, Em, or you’ll crush Miss Childs’s flowers,” a deep voice murmured just before Lorena choked on that succulent aroma she’d battled all night.

He looked every bit as breathtaking as he smelled as he joined their small group. Used to studying everyone’s movements around her, she couldn’t help but admire the smooth way he walked, the way he carried his broad shoulders back and loose. His long legs covered the yards between them with an ease that said he owned the world but wanted to keep it a secret. Dark hair, straight and just long enough to tease at the edges of his white collar, matched the dark hazel eyes staring down at her.

She swallowed, but it did nothing to help the way her mouth literally watered. Oh yeah, she’d definitely found the source of that tantalizing essence. Her incisors ached to stretch down, to sink into the thin, firm flesh at the side of his strong column of a neck, to see if this man’s blood tasted as good as he smelled…

No. Oh please, no!
She’d never once fantasized about biting someone. Even after first learning she’d been turned, being a vampire had always been about struggling with a disease that had to be controlled, not going around biting people’s necks.

Then she realized everyone was staring at her. Especially the stranger who had just joined them. She reached for the first thought that came to mind. “I-I’m sorry, I missed hearing your name?” She couldn’t drag her gaze away from his. What was going on here? She would have to leave soon if she couldn’t act more normal than this. She stopped breathing so her head would clear of the effects of his scent.

“Conor Blake.” He offered a hand for her to shake.

Don’t take it, Lor!
her mind screamed. Too late. His grip was strong, dry and hot around hers, reminding her of the unnatural contrast in their body temperatures. She jerked her hand away, probably too quickly, and his eyes narrowed. Hopefully only because she’d been rude.

She tried forcing a smile for him and pulled in just enough air through her mouth to speak. “It’s nice to meet you.”
More like my own personal brand of hell on earth,
she thought. “You must be Chrissy’s father. She has your eyes.”

Thank heavens she doesn’t have your scent, or I wouldn’t be able to guest teach at her school.

“Actually, she looks more like her mother,” he corrected, his tone polite, but his eyes grew darker as his cold gaze studied her.

The couple who had been talking with Lorena drifted away with one last murmured compliment. She managed a smile and a nod to them, then her gaze homed back in on Conor’s. “And is your wife here tonight?” What made her ask that? She should be thinking of polite ways to escape, not delving into this man’s personal life.

“No. She passed away a few years ago.”

Chrissy stiffened beside them, making something in Lorena’s chest ache for the girl. Instinctively she reached out to lightly drape an arm around Chrissy’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure she would have been proud of Chrissy’s dancing abilities. Your daughter has quite a lot of potential.” She gave Chrissy a light squeeze and was gratified when the girl relaxed and smiled up at her.

Her father seemed to have the opposite reaction. His hands fisted at his sides. “Yes, well, it’s been a long night. We should go, Chrissy.”

Whoa. Most parents loved to hear when their kids had talent. Conor just looked…murderous. His gaze raked over her face as if he wished he could cut her to ribbons with only his eyes. And this was the man Chrissy claimed was the best dad in the world?

Chrissy’s shoulders slumped beneath Lorena’s arm. “Aw, Dad, can’t we stay a little—“

“No, now, Chrissy. It’s getting late. Tell Miss Childs—“

“Lorena.” She wanted to bite off her own tongue. Why couldn’t she stay quiet? Maybe because she wanted this man to be in a better mood so he’d be nicer to his daughter?

“Say goodnight, Chrissy,” Conor muttered, his furious gaze never wavering from hers.

Chrissy gave a heavy sigh. “Okay. Goodnight, Miss Childs. See you on Monday?”

Lorena forced herself to look down at the girl, but her smile came easily enough. “Yes, Chrissy. I’ll be there, though I’ll probably just be sitting around hanging out with your regular teacher instead of teaching again. Wouldn’t want to hog all Miss Catherine’s teaching time, now would I?”

Chrissy grinned and gave her another sideways hug. “Okay. See you then!” She stepped forward and took her father’s arm.

“It was nice meeting you,” Lorena murmured to Conor.

The muscles in his jaw clenched as he gave a sharp nod. “Yes. It was very…illuminating.” Then he turned and led his daughter away.

As they left, Chrissy said, “Ooh, Dad, autographed slippers. Can I get one? Please?”

Lorena turned partially away and reached for a glass of water from a nearby table, but the drink was simply a stage prop. She snuck a sideways glance at the father and daughter now across the room by the front glass doors. Her half sip of water burbled in her throat and choked her. Conor had actually cracked a smile. And not just a polite one. He beamed down at his kid as he paid for the souvenir then handed it to her.

Maybe he really was as nice as Chrissy had claimed after dance class last week. But if so, then why had he seemed so cold a few minutes ago? Usually Lorena passed for human well enough that she didn’t make others around her uncomfortable. Had her preoccupation with Conor’s tormenting scent made her façade slip?

She would have to be more careful. And hope to never see, or smell, the too tempting Conor Blake again.

Chapter 4

Conor

C
onor gripped the steering wheel so hard the muscles of his hands groaned in protest. Unaware of the fury and cold fear rushing through him, Chrissy switched through the radio stations, trying to find a song she liked.

He worked to keep his voice even and calm. “So that was the infamous Miss Childs?”

“Yep. Isn’t she great? And she’s really nice about staying after class to answer questions or just stick around and chat. You’d think she’d be totally stuck up because she’s such a great dancer, but she’s not at all like that.” Chrissy rambled on for another minute before he could get a word in.

“You stayed late after class last week with her? Where was Rosita?” Their housekeeper had also served as Chrissy’s babysitter all his daughter’s life. She’d never once forgotten to take Chrissy to a sports practice, art class, or dance lesson. And as far as he knew, she’d never been late to pick up Chrissy afterwards either. “I thought Rosita waited in the parking lot during your dance lessons.”

“She does. But she didn’t mind waiting while Miss Childs and I chatted.”

Chrissy had been alone with Miss Childs?

His hands gripped the wheel harder as he fought to breathe. “Sweetheart, hanging around with Miss Childs after class probably isn’t such a great idea.”

Chrissy’s gaze shot up to his face. “Rosita was mad after all? Why didn’t she say anything to me?”

“No, I’m sure Rosita didn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes. But…” Aw hell. How could he explain to a twelve year old what he’d learned about her idol? “People aren’t always what they appear to be. Remember how we talked about not being alone with strangers? You know bad stuff can happen. And how much do you really know about Miss Childs?” Obviously not as much as he did now.

Chrissy scowled, her button nose wrinkling in disgust. “Oh Dad, you’re so paranoid. Miss Childs isn’t a stranger. She’s Miss Catherine’s best friend from way back. And besides, she’s really nice. You act like she might kidnap me or something.” She giggled.

He clenched his teeth to hold back his instinctive reply. It was the “or something” he was worried about. Because as soon as he’d seen Lorena Childs up close, felt that predatory silver gaze on him, seen the paleness of her too smooth skin even under normal lighting conditions, and felt that icy touch of her fingers, he’d known. Without a doubt, all the childhood stories his parents had told him were true. Vampires did exist. They were dangerous. They did cause anyone with powerful enough blood to feel that warning prickling down their necks and arms.

And one of them was lurking around his kid’s dance studio.

“Aren’t you getting tired of taking dance by now?” he suggested, hoping for an easy solution.

Chrissy gasped and froze in her seat. “No, I’m not. I love dancing. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

He glanced at her, caught the stricken look in her eyes, and bit back an oath. She looked like he’d just suggested they murder her puppy or something.

“You’re not going to make me quit ballet, are you?” she whispered.

He should, to keep her safe. After all, the only blood more tempting to a vampire than a regular human’s was a descendant’s. Supposedly the power in their blood called to the vampires somehow. Though Chrissy’s shouldn’t yet since her ability to use power wouldn’t develop for a while.

Then he remembered how that monster had casually draped an arm around Chrissy’s tiny shoulders, as if in silent warning that she could crush his kid in seconds and he’d be unable to stop her. It was his job to protect his daughter, to keep her safe from the monsters both in the dark and the daylight. Apparently his mother had been right all these years. If he’d taught Chrissy the childhood stories that every adult descendant passed on to their children, he could be honest with her now and explain how dangerous her idol was.

But he’d never dreamed a vampire would be crazy enough to come to
Taylorsville
, where a majority of The Clann’s descendants had settled. One of the earliest spells all descendants learned after developing their abilities was how to create fire with a single breath. It was the most important tool for survival if they got lost in the piney woods of
East Texas
. And it was also the quickest and surest way to kill a vampire. Stakes could miss their target. Heads could duck and avoid decapitation. But blow a breath of fire and the vampires supposedly went running at the mere sight of a flame.

Not that Chrissy had any hope of creating fire for months yet. But at least she would’ve grown up knowing about the dangers that came with being a descendant if he’d done his job as a parent. Right now, all she thought being a descendant meant was that they had really strange family reunions several times a year in the woods between
Taylorsville
and the neighboring city of
Jackson
. His mother had warned him against sheltering her. And now it looked like he was paying for that mistake.

He glanced at his daughter again and bit back a groan. Her eyes had teared up, and she sat slouched in her seat with her arms wrapped around her waist. Aw hell. If she started crying…

No, he had to be firm. He was the parent here. “When is Miss Childs supposed to leave?”

“In three weeks. Though I don’t know why you hate her so much.”

“Hate’s a pretty strong word. I never said I hated her.” Though how could he not hate anything that put his kid in danger?

“Then why can’t I keep taking ballet? I really love it, Dad. It’s not like the twirling lessons, or the art classes, or the piano lessons…”

“Or the horseback riding lessons? Or how about when you played soccer? Or what about basketball camp?”

She bit her lower lip. “No. Dancing’s better than all of those. I’ve never had as much fun as when I dance. And Miss Catherine says I’m really good.”

Yeah, and Miss Catherine was best friends with a vampire who said the same thing. “So ballet is pretty important to you, huh?” Something in his chest sank like a slowly deflating balloon.

She nodded, her eyes round and wide, the desperation in them far too much like her mother’s in the last days of her life. The sight tore at his lungs.

He needed an alternate strategy, because he was definitely losing this particular battle. Scrambling for options, he considered just how much Chrissy’s safety might be in jeopardy. Her dance classes ended at five each Monday, well before sunset. Vampires might have evolved enough not to burst into flames from the sunlight nowadays, but they were also rumored to be weaker during the daytime and not as aggressive. And he doubted this particular vamp would be dumb enough to attack a kid inside the small studio building where Lorena might get caught by her human friend or a parent.

Though maybe he’d stop by the dance company’s rehearsals on Monday and have a chat with their star ballerina just for good measure.

He huffed out a long breath and shook his head. “Fine, you can keep taking ballet lessons. But you have to promise me to be extra careful before and after your lessons. That means no hanging around after class. When class ends, you get your butt to Rosita’s car pronto. Got it?”

“Because…?”

“Because I said so.” He cringed. Great. What a night this was shaping up to be. First he’d discovered a vampire was hanging around his kid. And now he’d resorted to using the one parental phrase he’d sworn as a kid he would never use. “And because you never know what might be hanging around outside a dance studio.”