Night's Master (13 page)

It took me a moment to realize that Rafe was no longer nuzzling my neck, but holding me in his lap.

I stared at him, feeling oddly disoriented. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” He was watching me, his face carefully blank.

“I’m not sure. If I’d been asleep, I would have thought I was dreaming, but…” I met Rafe’s gaze, and he looked away. “I wasn’t dreaming, was I?” Even before Rafe answered, I knew I had been seeing bits and pieces of his past.

“What did you see?” he asked, his expression guarded.

“You and your brother,” I said, smiling at the memory. “You were scuffling.”

“We used to do a lot of that when we were younger,” Rafe said, a melancholy note in his voice.

“You must miss him. I mean, I’ve always heard twins are really close, that sometimes they feel what the other is feeling, even when they’re far apart.”

Rafe nodded. “It used to be that way, until he shut me out. Sometimes I feel I’m only half alive.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’d think I’d be used to it by now. So,” he said briskly, “did you see anything else?”

“I saw the two of you, hunting with your father.”

A muscle twitched in Rafe’s jaw. He didn’t say anything, didn’t draw away from me, but I suddenly felt like there was a wall between us.

“He’s very handsome, your father,” I said, hoping to change the subject. “You look a lot like him.”

“You know what they say,” he said flatly. “Like father, like son.”

“What’s wrong? It’s not as if I didn’t know you were a Vampire.”

“I never wanted you to see me like that.”

I stared at him. Was he embarrassed because I had seen him feeding?

“Not a pretty sight, is it?” he asked, his voice brittle.

I had a sudden image of Rafe and Susie running through the night together, their heads lifting as they paused to scent the wind for prey. Would they fight over the first luckless mortal who crossed their path, or would Rafe take the blood and leave what was left for Susie? The thought made me sick to my stomach.

Rafe swore softly, and I knew he had been reading my mind. Gently, he moved me from his lap onto the sofa, then gained his feet in a fluid movement no human could ever duplicate.

“Rafe…”

“You should get some rest.”

“Are you going to run away from me every time I learn something new about you, about how you live?”

He looked down at me, his eyes narrowed. “Is that what I do?”

“You know it is.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I keep telling myself to stay away, that no matter how I feel about you, about us, no good will ever come of it, but…”

“Stop thinking so much.” I rose from the sofa and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.”

“I only wish that was true,” he said, but he didn’t back away.

Hours later, after Rafe had gone off in search of prey, I curled up on the sofa and thought over the events of the last few days.

I had met Rafe’s grandparents.

The war was no longer between the Werewolves and the Vampires, but between the Supernatural creatures and the rest of the world.

The only friend I had in town was now a Werewolf.

I was falling deeper in love with Raphael Cordova with every passing day.

I was able to see what he saw and hear what he heard. Even more amazing, I was now seeing images from his past.

Oak Hollow was no longer a safe haven; perhaps it never had been.

On that happy note, I put on my favorite comfy nightgown and went to bed.

It was raining again when I woke on Saturday morning. The gloomy weather perfectly suited my mood, which only grew worse when I sat down to breakfast and read the paper. A man’s body had been found out near Brawley Woods; a teenage boy was missing.

I’d barely opened the shop when Edna and Pearl arrived. Today, they were wearing brightly colored turtleneck sweaters, jeans, fur-lined boots, and floppy hats. The dead man and the missing boy were all the two women could talk about.

Edna informed me that the dead man was Ezra Solomon, a thirty-year-old computer programmer who had stopped in Oak Hollow on his way to South Carolina. The teenager had been the oldest son of Jack and Alpha Cameron, who owned Oak Hollow’s only bed and breakfast. They had two other kids—a boy about twelve, and a girl a few years younger.

“How do you two know all this?” I asked, looking from Edna to Pearl and back again. As far as I knew, the names of the deceased hadn’t been released to the public yet.

Pearl and Edna exchanged that conspiratorial look that I was quickly becoming familiar with, and then they changed the subject.

I knew they weren’t Werewolves or Vampires, but what if they were witches, like Rafe’s grandmother? Like Werewolves and Vampires, witches were Supernatural creatures. For all I knew, Edna and Pearl met in the woods late at night and read deer entrails or something.

“I’d close up early tonight if I were you,” Edna said, dropping a load of books, mainly romantic suspense and sci-fi, on the counter.

“Oh? Why?”

“Let’s just say the streets won’t be safe after dark,” Pearl said. “When you see Raphael, you might suggest that he leave town for a while.”

I couldn’t help noticing she said “when” and not “if”.

“There’s a hunter in town,” Edna explained, lowering her voice. “His name is Travis Jackson. He’s from Amarillo, Texas, and he’s staying at the hotel.”

And with that bit of ominous information, Edna and Pearl gathered up their purchases and left the store.

Standing behind the counter, I looked out the window at the rain and wondered what other surprises the night would bring.

The night brought Travis Jackson and a flurry of raindrops into the store just as I was getting ready to close up. Of course, I didn’t know who he was at first, just a tall, good-looking man with short brown hair and dark, piercing eyes. In spite of the inclement weather, he wore a cream-colored shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of faded jeans, and scuffed brown boots. I guessed he was in his midthirties or thereabouts. He nodded at me as he passed the front counter and moved toward the murder mystery section.

I would have told him I was closing and asked him to leave, but hey, I couldn’t afford to turn away a customer.

He returned a few minutes later with a couple of paperbacks and swiped his credit card through the machine. Cash money rarely exchanged hands these days. In fact, it was getting to be a rare commodity, as were checks. Nearly every transaction was paid for by credit card. Businesses no longer wrote checks to their employees; instead, whatever amount was due was deposited in a personal bank account.

I rang up the sale, then asked to see his driver’s license.

I murmured, “Thank you, Mr. Jackson,” and then it hit me. He was the hunter from Texas. I stared at the silver cross that hung from a thick silver chain at his throat, and then glanced at the door, hoping Rafe wouldn’t show up.

Jackson followed my gaze then looked back at me. “Are you expecting someone?”

“What? Oh, no.” I dropped the books into a bag and placed the sack on the counter. “Please, come again.”

He smiled, revealing a dimple in one cheek. “I’m new in town,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’d consider going out to dinner with me? You know, sort of a gesture of goodwill from one of the town’s prettiest citizens.”

I should have moved to Oak Hollow sooner,
I thought. I had only been here a short time and three men had already shown an interest in me. Of course, a Vampire and a Were-tiger weren’t men in the usual sense of the word. And this man, though handsome, repelled me, though I couldn’t say why.

“I can’t,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

He glanced at my left hand. “You’re not married or engaged, so I guess it must be me.”

“No, it’s not you,” I said quickly, but it was. There was something in his eyes I didn’t like. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I had the feeling he was hiding something dark and ugly.

“If it’s not me, then what is it?”

Persistent cuss,
I thought. “I’m in a relationship.”

He leaned one hip against the counter. “Hmm, a one-on-one kind of thing, where you don’t date anyone else?”

“I’m afraid so.”

He made a tsking sound. “Just my luck.”

I had to smile at that.

“If your relationship goes south, I hope you’ll let me know.”

“Does that mean you’re here to stay?”

“Pretty much.”

I filed that bit of news away for Rafe. “What is it that you do?” I asked, wondering if he would tell me the truth.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I might never get you to go out with me, once you know my line of work.”

“I already know,” I said, and then bit down on my lower lip, thinking maybe I should have kept that bit of information to myself.

“I don’t believe you. How could you possibly know?”

“It’s hard to keep a secret in a small town. Didn’t you know that?”

His eyes narrowed. “So, what is it you think I do?”

I’d never been much of a liar, so I blurted the truth. “I think you’re a Vampire hunter.”

He swore a pithy oath. “How the hell did you find out?”

I was somewhat surprised that he admitted it. “Is it supposed to be hush-hush?”

“Not exactly. On the other hand, the fewer people who know, the better.”

Leaning forward, I whispered, “Don’t worry, your guilty secret is safe with me.”
Well, pretty safe,
I amended silently. “Do you just hunt Vampires?”

“And Werewolves,” he admitted, “and anything else that goes bump in the night. So, am I dead in the water?”

“No more than you were before,” I said. “How many Vampires and Werewolves have you killed?”

“All together, or just this year?”

I would have thought he was kidding except for the sudden tightening of his jaw muscles. This was interesting news, indeed. Rafe had told me there hadn’t been any Vampire hunters in the last twenty-five years. Apparently, he’d missed one. I wondered what else he might be mistaken about. “So, how many?”

“Thirty-six Vamps, eighteen Werewolves, and one Were-leopard.”

“You must be good at it,” I muttered. He had to be, or he would have been dead long before now.

“It’s a gift.”

“A bloody one, I should think.”

He rested his elbow on the counter. “At times,” he admitted, “but a necessary one. Have you noticed any increase in paranormal activity in town lately?”

“No, why?”

“I’m getting a strong sense of Supernatural presence in the area.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“How do you find these…creatures?”

He dragged a hand over his jaw, and then he smiled a cat-that-just-ate-the-canary kind of smile. “Like I said, it’s a gift.”

“What do you have, some kind of voodoo that tells you when they’re nearby?”

“Something like that.”

“So, how does it work?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said, “but when there’s a Were or a Vamp in the vicinity, I just know it.”

It occurred to me that Travis Jackson had the same sort of “gift” that I had, which made me wonder if all Vampire hunters possessed it, which then made me wonder what I was doing with it. I certainly wasn’t a hunter, nor did I have any desire to be one.

“Do all Vampire hunters have that peculiar ability?”

“No. Just the best ones.” His tone of voice suggested that he was among the best of the best.

“And the others?”

“They just want to kill things.”

“So, how many hunters are there?” I asked, thinking this was something Rafe might need to know, if he didn’t already. “I mean, I’ve heard there are hunters in training, I guess you’d call them, but I didn’t think there were any already working.”

“How’d you know about that?” he asked, his voice sharp.

I shrugged. “I must have overheard someone mention it. Why? Is it a secret?”

“Well, it’s not news that we want the Supernatural community to be aware of. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“Of course. So, where does one train to be a Vampire hunter?”

“In school, naturally,” he said with an easy grin.

I would have thought he was kidding if Rafe hadn’t told me about that school down in Texas. “You must have some interesting classes.”

“You could say that.”

“Like what? Bloodletting 101? The ten best ways to kill a Werewolf? How to stake a Vampire without getting blood on your clothes?”

His laughter didn’t reach his eyes, making me think I’d hit close to home.

“There’s a place in Amarillo,” he said. “For all intents and purposes, it’s been closed for the last twenty-five years. Used to be the number one school in North America, but a lot’s changed since then.”

That had to be the understatement of the century!

“We’ve been underground for a while,” Jackson went on, “keeping a low profile, so to speak, but the Weres and the Vamps are getting more aggressive every day. It’s no secret that they’re not just killing each other anymore.”

Rafe had mentioned that, too. I thought about Susie. I needed to warn her that there was a hunter in town. I wondered if Jackson would spare Susie’s life if I told him that she was my friend and that she had three young children, but something told me to keep that information to myself. “So,” I asked, “are you the only hunter in Oak Hollow?”

“No.”

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me who the other one is?”

“Not a chance. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

“Fair enough. Well, it’s been nice talking to you,” I said, “but I need to close up.”

“Good idea,” he said. “The streets aren’t safe after dark.”

I nodded. He was the second one to tell me that today. Like my mother always said, if two people tell you you’re sick, lie down. When two people tell me the streets aren’t safe after dark, you can be sure I’ll be inside behind locked doors before the sun sinks below the horizon.

“I hope to see you around…I never got your name.”

“Kathy.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He glanced out the front window, then back at me. “It’s getting dark,” he said, scooping up the bag from the counter. “Why don’t you lock up and let me walk you out?”

“Thanks, but I’ll be all right. That’s my car, parked out front.”

With a nod, he headed for the door.

I stared after him, thinking that the Supernatural community was in a world of hurt if Travis Jackson was a typical Vampire hunter.

I said as much to Rafe later that night. We were at my place, sitting on the sofa in front of the hearth. It was raining again. I snuggled closer to Rafe, thinking how cozy it was to sit next to him in front of the fire and listen to the rain.

“So, do you know him?” I asked.

“I’ve heard of him. They say he’s got a high body count.”

“Thirty-six Vamps and eighteen Werewolves. Oh, and one Were-leopard.”

Rafe whistled softly. “I guess he is good.”

“You think?”

“Well, he’s not going to have anyone to hunt in Oak Hollow after tonight. Mara and Clive are telling all their people to get out of town.”

In spite of the heat of the fire, I felt suddenly cold all over. “You’re leaving?” I told myself it didn’t matter. He was a Vampire, and even though I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone else, there was just no future for the two of us.

His gaze moved over me. “If I was, would you miss me?”

“Don’t tease me, Rafe. Are you leaving?”

“No.” He slipped his arm around me and drew me closer. “Not even if Mara told me to.”

Relief washed through me, and I sagged against him. If I’d had any doubts about how much I cared for him, the ache I’d felt at the thought of his leaving town had chased them all away. Though I had only known Rafe for a short time, I could no longer imagine my life without him in it. The words
Mrs. Raphael Cordova
whispered through the back of my mind. Even if I’d wanted to marry him, it was impossible. Two years ago, legislation had been passed forbidding Vampires to marry mortals. Anyone getting married after sunset was required to submit to several blood tests to prove that both parties were human. No such law existed for the Were-creatures, perhaps because they were still technically human and alive.

Rafe looked at me, one brow raised. “Marriage?”

I blew out an exasperated sigh. “Do you read all my thoughts?”

“No, but some of them come through loud and clear.” His gaze searched mine. “Do you want to get married?”

“Of course. What girl doesn’t?”

He nodded, his gaze narrowing. “Do you want to marry me?”

I stared at him for the space of a heartbeat. “Are you proposing?”

“If you want me to.”

I didn’t know what to say. Yes, I loved Rafe, madly, truly, deeply, but I couldn’t help wondering how much of what I felt for him was from the depths of my own heart, and how much came from the Supernatural glamour that all Vampires possessed? And even if my feelings were 100 percent my own, did I want to be married to a Vampire? Did I love him enough to accept him as he was, to give up all thought of living a normal life, of having children and grandchildren? Once the excitement and the first thrill of falling in love wore off, as was bound to happen sooner or later, would I regret my decision? Did I want to live with a man who needed blood to survive, a man who would never age, never look any different than he did now? I was mortal, subject to sickness, old age, and death. What if he grew disenchanted with me when the passage of time began to leave its mark on my face and figure?

Rafe stroked my cheek. Had he been reading my thoughts again? Was that disappointment I saw in his eyes?

“It’s all right, Kathy,” he said quietly.

“I do love you,” I said, fighting the urge to cry. “You know I do.”

“I know.”

“It’s just…I just don’t know…I don’t want to be a Vampire.”

“It’s all right.”

“But everyone in your family is like you. I’d never fit in, never really be a part of your family. I’d always be different, an outsider.”

“It’s all right,” he said again in that same quiet tone. “I’m not asking you to change.”

I thought about his mother. She had lived with a Vampire husband until her sons graduated from high school, and then she had asked to be brought across. Had she ever been sorry she had given up her humanity? Did she miss doing mundane things like grocery shopping and going to lunch with a girlfriend? And what about his grandmother, Brenna? Had she asked to become a Vampire? The mere idea of anyone wanting to be one of the Undead was inconceivable. And yet…what would it be like never to grow old, to never be sick, to have a wealth of Supernatural powers? The fact that I was even thinking about it unnerved me. Thoughts gave birth to deeds.

I could tell, just by looking at Rafe, that he was reading my thoughts again.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

“No! Can’t we just go on the way we have been?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I said. “It really is.” But I couldn’t help wondering whom I was trying to convince, Rafe or myself.

I thought about our conversation long after Rafe went home that night. Everything was changing. Oak Hollow was no longer the safe, peaceful place I had imagined. Susie had been attacked by a Werewolf. The Camerons’ oldest son was still missing, presumed dead. The governor’s daughter remained in the hospital in critical condition. The latest news bulletin stated she wasn’t expected to recover. I wondered if Mara and the leader of the Werewolves would be able to put an end to the war between the Vampires and the Werewolves, if Susie’s husband would be able to accept the radical changes her new lifestyle was bound to cause in their marriage, if Susie would be able to adjust to her new life, and how she would explain it to her children. I thought about Rafe’s mother asking for the Dark Gift. Had it really been her own idea, or had his father coerced her? And what about his grandmother, the witch? Had she been a willing victim, or had the change been forced upon her?