Dead Perfect (27 page)

He groaned deep in his throat, his body convulsing, his eyes blazing until, sated, he collapsed on top of her, his forehead pressed to hers as he whispered that he loved her.

She clung to him when he would have left her. “Not yet.”

“I’m too heavy for you.”

“No.”

Rising up on his elbows, he gazed down into her face. “Any complaints, Mrs. Moss?”

“Just one.”

He lifted one brow. “And that would be…?”

“It was over too soon.”

He smiled, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Then we shall have to do it again.”

“Can you?” she asked. “I always heard that men, well, that they had to wait a while before they could…you know, do it again?”

“Ah, my lovely wife, you forget, I am not a mortal man.”

“Yes,” she said, grinning broadly, “I did forget.”

He brushed a kiss across her lips. “It will be my pleasure to remind you, and often.”

She ran her fingertips down his chest, her nails lightly scraping the skin. “I promise to pay close attention.”

“And I promise to never disappoint you.”

“Never?” She lifted her hands to his nape, let her fingers sift through his hair. It was thick and silky.

“Never, my love.”

He rolled off her, drawing her body against his, his arm holding her close while their bodies cooled and their breathing returned to normal. And then he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

Shannah was somewhat surprised when he put her in the shower, then stepped in beside her and closed the door. He turned on the water, picked up a bar of scented soap, and proceeded to wash her from her neck to her heels.

The touch of his soapy hands moving languidly over her body was the most sensually erotic feeling she had ever known.

Picking up another bar of soap, she decided to treat him to the same and found, to her surprise, that washing Ronan was even more arousing than having him wash her. His body was firm and muscular and beautiful. And aroused.

In minutes, the shower’s glass walls were thick with steam and only part of it came from the hot water.

Taking the soap from her hand, he dropped it on the floor and drew her into his arms. His body was wet and slick against her own.

“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“I’m going to make love to you.”

“In here?”

“In here,” he said, and easing her back against the shower wall, he showed her that there was more than one way to make love.

They spent three glorious nights in the Waldorf. Shannah had decided to wait until she had been a vampire a little longer before leaving the country for the first time. Besides, she didn’t want to waste time traveling when she could be making love to her husband. They left the hotel only to hunt. Shannah explored her husband’s body until she knew it as well as, if not better than, she knew her own.

No matter what else they decided to do, somehow it always ended up in love-making, like the night they decided to watch a movie, and then ended up acting out all the love scenes, and the night they went to the movies and made out like a couple of teenagers in the back row.

This evening, they had gone out on the balcony to dance under the stars and ended up making love on a blanket in the moonlight.

“So,” Ronan asked later that night. “Any regrets?”

She considered for a moment. She was strong and healthy. She would always appear to be twenty-four years old. She wouldn’t age. She would never get sick. She would never have a child…

“Shannah?”

“I’m sorry we can’t have children.”

He nodded. “That’s always been one of my regrets, as well.”

“Is there no way?”

“None.”

It was a fact she would have to accept. And then she frowned as a new thought occurred to her. “I won’t get any older,” she said, “but my parents will. Won’t they wonder why I don’t age? How will I take care of them when they get old?”

“Some people stay young looking for a long time,” Ronan said.

“But…”

“Shannah, love, let’s worry about it when the time comes.”

She smiled self-consciously. He was right, of course. There was no point in borrowing trouble.

She trailed her fingertips down his cheek. “Have you always been this wise?”

“Always,” he said, stifling a grin.

Her hand trailed down his neck, over his chest, his stomach. “And this handsome?”

He nodded, his eyes growing hot as her fingers caressed him. “Careful, love,” he murmured.

She batted her eyelashes at him. “Is something wrong?”

“Not a thing. But you know, there are always consequences to every action.”

“Really?” she asked with mock innocence. “What do you think would happen if I did this?” she asked, and trailed her tongue over his chest.

“I can assure you that this would happen.” His voice was a low growl as he tucked her body beneath his. “If you wake the tiger, you have to pay the price.”

“Nice kitty,” she said, and burst out laughing, only to gasp with pleasure as he began to caress her.

“Nice kitty,” she said again. Suddenly breathless, she lifted her hips to receive him, held on tight as he moved deep within her, until it seemed she was floating among the stars, her mind and body melded with his, making it impossible to separate her pleasure from his.

The dawn came all too soon. Ronan took the usual precautions. He put wards on the doors and windows so that no one would disturb them. They took another quick shower together. Although he could have stayed up for another hour or two, Ronan got into bed, his arm slipping around Shannah’s waist as she slid in beside him. With a little sigh, she snuggled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered.

But she was already asleep.

They returned home the following night. Because of all the wedding gifts and luggage, Ronan had rented a car at the airport.

Shannah glanced at Ronan as he pulled into the driveway. Amazing, how quickly one’s life could change, she thought. And how radically it could change. Not so long ago, she had been at death’s door. Now she was a married woman, a married vampire, she amended, with all of eternity before her.

“Here we are, love,” Ronan murmured as he pulled up in front of the house. “Home sweet home.”

She laughed softly, thinking how happy she was to be here, with him.

He opened the car door for her, and she followed him around to the trunk. It was full of wedding gifts, as was the back seat.

He looked at her and shook his head. “What are we going to do with all this stuff?”

Shannah shrugged. She had wondered that herself. They really had no need for a toaster or a mixer or for any of the dishes and pots and pans they had received.

“At least we can use the blankets and the sheets,” she said. “And the quilt my mother made us.”

Ronan nodded.

“We can give the rest of the stuff to the Salvation Army, or maybe donate it to a women’s shelter,” Shannah suggested.

“Let’s leave it here for now,” he said, closing the trunk. “We can decide what to do with it tomorrow…” His voice trailed off and he spun around, peering into the darkness.

“What is it?” she asked anxiously.

“Get in the…” His words ended in a groan.

Shannah gasped as something hot stung her cheek. “Ronan!”

Her eyes widened in horror when he turned toward her. One side of his face and neck were raw, as though he had been burned with acid.

“Get inside!” he roared. “Now!”

She started to ask him what had happened when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she let out a cry of alarm when Jim Hewitt lunged forward, a long wooden stake in one hand, an empty bottle in the other. A bottle she knew must have been filled with holy water.

She screamed as Hewitt drove the stake into Ronan’s back.

“Run, Shannah,” Hewitt cried. “My car’s at the end of the driveway.”

“Stop it!” she screamed. “You’ll kill him!”

Hewitt’s teeth flashed in a wolfish grin as he twisted the stake in Ronan’s back.

With a grunt of pain, Ronan dropped to his hands and knees.

The scent of fresh hot blood wafted through the night.

With a scream of rage, Shannah grabbed Hewitt by the arm. Startled, he glanced at her. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you.” She pulled his hand away from the stake, her fingers curling around his wrist.

“Are you crazy?” Hewitt exclaimed. “He’s a vampire!”

“Yes,” she said, baring her fangs. “And so am I.”

Hewitt’s face paled. And then he lashed out at her.

Shannah laughed as he struggled in vain to free himself from her hold. And then she caught his gaze with hers.

“Stop fighting me,” she commanded, somewhat surprised when his arms fell limply to his sides. “Stay there.”

Letting him go, she dropped down beside Ronan. “Are you all right?”

“Pull it out,” he said, his voice raw and edged with pain.

“Out?” Revulsion made her stomach clench when she looked at the stake protruding from his back.

“Pull it out or push it through,” he said, panting. “Just get the damn thing out of me!”

Grasping the stake firmly in one hand, she pulled it from his back. A torrent of dark red blood flowed from the nasty wound. The scent of it filled the air.

Unable to help herself, Shannah licked her lips. So much blood. How could he survive after losing so much? Ripping a strip of cloth from his shirt tail, she stuffed it into the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Ronan? Are you all right?”

Grunting softly, he dropped into a sitting position.

“Your poor face,” Shannah said. She started to stroke his cheek, then drew her hand away, afraid her touch would only make it hurt worse. “And your neck. Does it hurt dreadfully?”

“Like sin.” His gaze moved over her. “Looks like he got you, too.”

She lifted a hand to her cheek, flinched when she touched the place where the holy water had splashed her skin. She had only been sprayed by a drop or two but it stung like the devil. She couldn’t imagine the pain Ronan must be in.

“Are you going to be all right?” she asked.

He nodded. “The burns will heal, in time.”

“But…your back.”

“He missed my heart. The wound’s already healing. Bring him to me.”

“You’re not…are you going to…?”

Ronan looked over to where Hewitt stood, held fast by Shannah’s will. “Kill him? I haven’t decided.”

“I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

Rising, Shannah grabbed Hewitt by the arm. Dragging him toward Ronan, she ordered him to sit down.

“Release him from your spell,” Ronan said. “I want him to know what’s happening.”

Shannah did as bidden, then stood back, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she waited to see what Ronan intended to do with the man who had tried to kill him.

Hewitt’s face went deathly pale when he roused and saw himself looking into the vampire’s blood-red eyes.

Ronan drew back his lips, exposing his fangs. “I warned you,” he said. “You should have listened.”

Hewitt swallowed hard.

Shannah shook off a rush of pity for the man as Ronan pulled him closer. Whatever happened to Jim Hewitt, it was his own fault.

The stink of Hewitt’s fear stung her nostrils. His terror was a palpable thing as he struggled helplessly in Ronan’s grasp.

Her mouth watered as Ronan sank his fangs into the vampire hunter’s throat.

Knowing it would help to ease the pain of his wounds and speed his recovery, Shannah had expected Ronan to drink deeply, but he continued to drink long after she expected him to stop. He drank until Hewitt’s heartbeat fluttered faintly, and then he drank some more.

“Ronan…”

He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes red.

She feared he was going to kill the man. She couldn’t find it in her heart to fault his decision, and yet…it seemed wrong somehow.

When Ronan lifted his head, Hewitt lay white-faced and limp in his grasp.

She looked at her husband and knew he was going to drain Jim Hewitt dry.

And then Ronan spoke.

“Hewitt! Listen to me. You have only a few minutes to make up your mind. Do you want to live or die?”

Hewitt’s eyelids fluttered open, his gaze unfocused, and then he stared into Ronan’s face. He didn’t speak, but it was evident from his expression that he knew what the vampire was asking.

Shannah glanced from one man to the other. What would Hewitt decide? Would he choose death? Or would he choose to become what he hated? What he had spent his life hunting?

Though it seemed impossible, Hewitt seemed to grow paler, weaker. Had he chosen death?

She looked at Ronan. He was all vampire now. His fangs gleamed whitely in the light of the moon. His eyes glowed with a pure red flame. She saw death in those eyes, a burning desire to destroy the mortal who had attacked him viciously and without provocation.

“Your time is running out,” Ronan said curtly. “Make your choice!”

“Live.” The word seemed torn from the very depths of Hewitt’s soul. “I want…to live.”

With a feral cry, Ronan bit into his own wrist. “Then drink,” he said, and his voice was like sandpaper over steel.

Hewitt grimaced as blood dripped from Ronan’s wrist into his mouth. He choked down the first taste and then he clutched the vampire’s arm in both hands.

“Damn you!” Hewitt said hoarsely, and then he pulled Ronan’s wrist to his mouth and took his first step into another life.

Preternatural power stirred on the wings of the night.

Shannah watched in mingled horror and fascination as the color returned to Hewitt’s face. His breathing returned to normal, his heartbeat grew stronger.

Moment’s later, Ronan jerked his arm from Hewitt’s grasp. “Enough!”

Sitting up, Hewitt dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. He stared at the crimson stain on his hand as if he had never seen blood before, and then he looked at Ronan. “Now what?”

Ronan licked the wound in his wrist, sealing it, and then gained his feet. “Tonight you’ll die…”

“What?” Hewitt scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with panic. “I thought that you…”