Night's Master (9 page)

“Roger was absolutely right,” Edna agreed. “But then, he always was.”

“You know, dear,” Pearl said, “it probably isn’t wise for you to go to Raphael’s house alone.”

I think my mouth fell open. How could they possibly know I had been out to Raphael’s house? Or that the Werewolves met in an abandoned building on Foster Road? Or that Raphael’s grandmother was a witch? A witch! Good grief! Next they’d be telling me that Susie McGee was a fairy princess and the police chief was a troll!

After I had taken their credit cards, bagged their books, and bid Edna and Pearl good-bye, I poured myself a cup of coffee and replayed the entire conversation in my mind.

A short time later, another woman entered the store. She was young and pretty, with dark blond hair and violet eyes. I thought at first that she was a Werewolf, and it occurred to me once again that there were an awful lot of Werewolves and Vampires in town, although, after what had happened the last two nights, there were at least two less than there had been. But then I realized she wasn’t a Werewolf. She was like Cagin, a shape-shifter of some kind.

She looked at me sharply when she handed me her credit card, and I had the distinct impression that she knew that I knew what she was. Taking her receipt and the book, she left the store without ever saying a word.

The rest of the day passed quietly. I ate lunch at my computer and washed the ham and cheese sandwich down with a cup of coffee. I made another sale later in the afternoon, and I closed up early.

Driving home, I felt suddenly melancholy. I hadn’t heard a word from Raphael since last night. Of course, he had probably been at rest all day. I wondered if he would come by my house later, or ever again.

Handsome is as handsome does
.

Pearl’s words echoed in the back of my mind. Raphael Cordova was handsome as sin, and just as dangerous. Last night, he had killed a man in cold blood. Oh, sure, the Were had asked Raphael to end his life, but it was still murder.

Handsome is as handsome does.

Okay, I admit it, it troubled me more than I wanted to admit that Raphael had killed the Werewolf. How many other Were-creatures and humans had he killed since becoming a full-fledged, practicing Vampire?

It was a question that haunted me while I ate dinner. Like an itch I couldn’t scratch, it lingered in the back of my mind while I cleaned up the kitchen, and later, while I tried to watch a late movie.

I was about to get ready for bed when the doorbell rang.

I knew before I answered the door that it was my Vampire. Raphael.

Handsome. The word whispered through my mind as I looked at him. Dressed in a dark blue shirt open at the throat and a pair of black jeans, he looked good enough to eat.

“Any chance I could come in?” he asked.

A girl can’t be too careful.
I blinked at him, and then, ignoring Pearl’s earlier warning, I invited him inside.

Nice butt.
I grinned as I recalled Edna’s assessment of Raphael’s behind. Following him into the living room, I had to agree with her.

“Please,” I said, “sit down.”

I sank into the chair across from the sofa, one leg folded beneath me, suddenly at a loss for words. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask him, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answers.

“You’re still upset about last night,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

I nodded. There was no point in lying. “You killed him,” I said with a snap of my fingers. “Just like that.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Yes.”

I took a deep breath, then blurted, “How many people have you killed?”

His gaze burned into mine, and then he rose effortlessly to his feet. “Good-bye, Kathy.”

I stared at him, knowing if he left now, I would never see him again.

He was at the door when I called, “Rafe, don’t go!”

He glanced over his shoulder, his face impassive. “It’s better this way.”

“No.” I blinked against the sharp sting of tears. “Please stay.”

He stared at me for a long moment before resuming his place on the sofa. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

I nodded, although I wasn’t sure at all. Maybe ignorance really was bliss.

“I’m a Vampire,” he said, both his voice and his expression devoid of emotion.

I was tempted to say, “duh!” but I restrained myself.

“You have to understand that killing comes easy to us,” he went on, “and it gets easier with every passing year. After a while, some of us forget that we were once human. Those who do look on mortals as nothing more than prey, theirs for the taking.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“No, but many do. Even so, there have been times when I’ve taken a life.”

I waited, hoping he would say he had killed them all in self-defense.

“When I was a new Vampire, I fell in love with a young woman. After a while, she said she wanted to be what I was, that she wanted us to be together forever.” He paused, his gaze looking beyond me into the distant past. “I knew how Vampires were made, and even though I had never brought anyone across or seen it done, I was sure I could do it. I was wrong. She died in my arms.”

He looked at me again, his dark eyes haunted. “I’ve never tried to bring anyone else across.”

Feeling suddenly chilled from the inside out, I ran my hands up and down my arms, waiting for him to go on.

“I’ve killed men and Werewolves in self-defense,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “I’ve killed men when my need for blood was stronger than my self-control, but I’ve never killed a man in anger.” He smiled faintly. “Or a woman.”

“Where do you sleep?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t mean where, exactly, I was just wondering what you sleep in.”

“My underwear,” he replied, and then frowned. “But that’s not what you’re asking, either, is it?”

“No.”

“These days, only Hollywood Vampires sleep in coffins. The rest of us have discovered king-size beds are more comfortable.”

I hoped my relief didn’t show on my face.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“Someone told me your grandmother is a witch. Is that true?”

The sound of his deep, rich laughter filled the room. “You’ve been talking to Edna and Pearl, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know where they get their information, but I think those old broads know everything that happens in this town. Hell, maybe they’re witches, too.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s true. My grandmother Brenna is a spell-casting, card-carrying white witch.” He canted his head to one side. “Looking for someone who can make me disappear?”

“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

“What are you looking for?” he asked, all hint of amusement gone from his voice and his expression.

It was a good question. I wished I had a good answer. “I’m not looking for anything; I was just curious.” I blew out a sigh. “Vampires and Were-creatures and now witches. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

I lifted one brow. “Shakespeare?”

“Hamlet, act one, scene five.” He grinned at me. “I had a good tutor.”

“Did he know you were a Vampire?”

“No. My folks didn’t see any reason to divulge that particular bit of information.” He grinned. “Rane and I played some awful tricks on old Mr. Axtell.”

“What kinds of tricks?”

“One night, my folks invited him to stay for dinner. While they were all in the living room talking, Rane and I turned his car upside down. Another time, Rane hypnotized Axtell, and when he woke up, he was in a…”

“In a what?”

Rafe cleared his throat. “A bordello.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“It wasn’t easy.” Rafe shook his head. “We caught hell for that one.”

“I should hope so,” I said, but I couldn’t help grinning.

“He figured out we were behind it. I don’t know how. But a few days later, my old man received a bill for five hundred dollars from the bordello for services rendered. He wasn’t happy about that. Neither were Rane and I. Our father decided if we had enough spare time on our hands to play pranks on our teacher, then we could paint the house, inside and out.”

Rafe laughed and I laughed with him. And then he looked at me, his expression sober once more. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know. My good sense tells me that I shouldn’t have anything to do with you, but…”

“But?”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. “I can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

“It could be dangerous for you.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t scare you?”

“Of course it does.”

“You’ve nothing to fear from me, you know that, don’t you?”

“It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s what’s happening in Oak Hollow. It’s knowing, really knowing, that Vampires and Were-creatures and…and witches…actually exist. I mean, I knew it before I moved here, but I had never met any Supernatural folk. I told myself they didn’t really exist. But now…”

“Now you can’t pretend anymore.”

I nodded. “I’m afraid for you, afraid of how all this trouble between the Vampires and Werewolves will end.”

“Come here.”

Rising from my chair, I went into his arms.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, his fingertips stroking my arm. “I can take care of myself. And you, too.”

I hoped he was right, but only time would tell. Resting my head on his shoulder, I closed my eyes. The future would take care of itself. Right now, I was where I most wanted to be.

“This won’t be easy,” Raphael murmured, his breath warm against my neck.

“I know.”

“For your sake, we’d better take it slow.”

I kissed his cheek. “Slow.”

He turned his head, his lips seeking mine, his tongue like a flame as it dueled with my own. For a moment, I lost myself in his touch, thinking how amazing it was that he was here, that I was in his arms.

“Rafe…”

He drew back a little, his gaze seeking mine. “You want me to stop?”

“No, I…”
Might as well just say it,
I thought, then blurted, “I think I love you.”

“I think I love you, too.”

“This complicates things even more, doesn’t it?” I asked. Lust and love were two different animals. Lust was a selfish beast. It had no responsibilities, implied no lasting commitment, no concern for the other’s happiness or welfare. But love, ah, love required caring and commitment, it meant putting another’s wants and needs before one’s own. Lust was fleeting; true love lasted forever.

“In a way,” Raphael agreed, kissing the tip of my nose. “On the other hand, it’s nice to know where we stand.”

Drawing me into his arms once more, he lowered his head and kissed me again and yet again, each kiss deeper and more intimate than the last. His hands moved lightly over my body, as if he wanted to memorize every curve. Had I been a cat, I would have arched my back and purred with pleasure. As it was, I couldn’t restrain the soft moans that rose in my throat as he caressed me, nor could I resist an exploration of my own.

I loved the feel of his skin beneath my hands, the way his muscles bunched and quivered at my touch. I lay back on the sofa and drew him down on top of me, basking in the feel of his body lying atop mine, the heat of his arousal pressing against my thigh.

I was lost in the taste of him, the touch of him, until I felt his fangs at my throat.

It cooled my desire as quickly as cold water doused a fire. “Raphael?”

Muttering an oath, he rolled off me and gained his feet.

I sat up, staring at his back, watching as he raked a hand through his hair, then curled his hands into tight fists at his sides. He was breathing heavily. A leftover remnant of his desire, I wondered, or a sign of his hunger?

“Rafe…?”

He lifted one hand. “Give me a minute.”

I grew increasingly nervous as I sat there watching him. Was he subduing his hunger or getting ready to pounce? Only moments ago, he had warned me that our relationship could be dangerous for me.

I glanced around the room, seeking a way out, seeking a weapon. I found neither. Raphael stood between me and the front door, blocking my only exit. My chance of finding a weapon seemed equally slim since I didn’t keep a ready supply of holy water or hawthorn stakes on hand. And even if I did, there was no way I could have used either one on Rafe. That fact alone told me I was in far deeper than I’d thought.

A shudder ran through his entire body and then, slowly, he turned to face me, his expression a little sheepish as his gaze met mine. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you.”

“Warned me? About what?”

“With us, the urge to make love and the urge to feed are strongly connected. For us, the taking of blood enhances our emotions and our pleasure.”

“Oh.” Once again, I had learned more than I really wanted to know.

“The idea repulses you?”

“I don’t know about that, but it doesn’t thrill me.” I wondered how his mother had handled it before she was turned. Had she let Rafe’s father drink from her? Dared I ask?

Did I really want to know?

“Kathy…I don’t want to lose you….”

My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I waited for him to go on. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“I thought we could make this work, but…” He shook his head. “I’d never intentionally hurt you, but…dammit, what if I can’t help myself? Just now I wanted to taste you, and I was close to taking what I wanted, so close…”

“But you didn’t.”

“What if I can’t stop myself next time?”

“I don’t know.” Maybe he was right. Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore, yet even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. Right or wrong, for better or worse, I was head over heels in love with a Vampire.

“How did your mother handle it?” I asked. “You know, when your father wanted to, uh, taste her?”

Though we were sitting side by side on the sofa, Rafe was careful not to touch me. I appreciated his caution even as I longed for his touch. I was acutely aware of his nearness. His right shoulder and thigh were only inches from mine. The scent of his cologne tickled my nostrils.

“From what I gather, she wasn’t aware of it the first time.”

“Really? What did he do,” I asked, “drink from her while she was asleep?”

“No, while they were making love.”

“Oh. Oh!”

He smiled faintly. “They were making love the second time, too.”

“Did she know it that time?” And even as I asked the question, I wondered how he knew the intimate details of his parents’ love life.

“Yes, and many times thereafter.”

“I don’t believe you. How could anyone enjoy being bitten, or having someone drink their blood while they were making love? It’s…it’s…” I searched for a word that would describe how I felt without offending him. They were his parents, after all.

He supplied some adjectives for me. “Gross? Disgusting? Barbaric? Repulsive? Nauseating? Horrific?” He lifted one brow. “Should I go on?”

“No, I think you’ve covered it pretty well.”

Ever so slowly and provocatively, he ran the tip of one finger down the side of my neck. It was the lightest of sensations, like a downy feather brushing over my skin. “Why don’t you try it and see for yourself?”

I jerked away as if his finger had turned into a venomous snake. “No way! I like my blood right where it is, thank you very much.”

“Where’s your spirit of adventure?” His fingertips slowly stroked my throat. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

I was curious, but I wasn’t about to admit it, especially to a hungry Vampire! Instead, I said, “Just seeing you is all the adventure I need. As for being curious, you know what happened to the cat.”

Raphael looked into my eyes, his gaze smoldering with desire, his voice low and husky as he murmured, “They say satisfaction brought him back.”

The man was incorrigible! Those bedroom eyes, that sexy voice…how long would I be able to resist? How long until I surrendered to the yearning in his voice, the hunger in his eyes?

“So,” I said, “tell me more about your parents.”

With a sigh, he settled back against the sofa. “My grandparents are both Vampires. Late one night, they found a young girl giving birth in an alley. The girl abandoned the baby, and my grandparents adopted her….”

“How did two Vampires raise a human baby?”

“They hired a nanny and, later, a live-in housekeeper and a bodyguard.”

“A bodyguard? Whatever for?”

“My grandfather is a wealthy man, plus he’s made a few enemies in his time. He couldn’t protect my mother during the day, so they hired someone who could.”

“Where did they find people willing to work for Vampires?”

“No one knew they were Vampires, except for the bodyguard. Even my mother didn’t know. They told her and everyone else that they had a rare disease that made it impossible for them to go out during the day. My mother was a grown woman before she found out the truth. Ironically, my mother fell in love with a Vampire, although she didn’t know he was a Vampire at the time.”

I shook my head, thinking it was the most far-fetched story I had ever heard.

“It’s true,” he said. “Every word.” He stroked my cheek. “Falling in love with mortal women seems to run in my family.”

“I’m glad.”

“Kathy,” he murmured huskily, “I’m dying for want of you.” His fingertips drifted up and down my neck again, ever so lightly. “Just one taste, please?”

“And if I say no?”

“I’ll expire here at your feet.”

I would have laughed if his voice hadn’t been edged with pain, his expression filled with such naked yearning that I ached for him. Some said a Vampire’s craving for blood was like a terrible drug addiction for which there was no cure. Vampires suffered intense agony if they were forced to go for long periods of time without feeding. It was a relentless pain, one that grew steadily worse. The only antidote was blood. In days past, Vampires had been locked up for years at a time. Some went mad with the pain, but none of them had died from it. The need just grew more and more excruciating, a hellishly endless torment that only blood or obliteration could bring to an end.

I didn’t want Rafe to suffer even a moment because of me, and yet…how could I let him drink my blood? He had told me once that it didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t sure I believed that. How could someone sinking their fangs into your neck not hurt? What if he took too much? I remembered the woman he had tried to bring across. Though he hadn’t said as much, I was sure she had died because he had taken too much, or perhaps he had taken it all.

“What do they look like?” I asked. “Your fangs?”

“Like this,” he said, and bared his teeth.

I guess I had been expecting huge canines, like a lion’s, although I knew that was impossible. Rafe’s fangs were neither as big or as long as I had imagined, but they were very white and looked needle sharp. Curious, I touched one with the tip of my finger and quickly drew back as it pierced my flesh. I stared at the drop of bright red blood. Sharp indeed! I’d hardly touched the darn thing.

I lifted my hand to my mouth, intending to lick the blood away.

“Let me,” Rafe said, and taking my hand in his, he put my finger to his lips and sucked lightly.

The heat of his mouth was unexpectedly erotic. A soft “ohhh” of sensual pleasure rose in my throat. If being bitten felt anything like this, I was surprised women weren’t lined up for miles on end waiting their turn.

I could see by the look in his eyes that he knew the exact effect his touch was having on my senses. He kissed my palm, his tongue stroking the sensitive skin, and then he let go of my hand.

I looked at my finger, amazed to see that the tiny wound had already disappeared.

“Sweet,” he murmured. “Even sweeter than I imagined.”

“Blood isn’t sweet.”

“Not to you, perhaps, but to me it’s like the finest wine.”

“Well, at least you got your taste,” I muttered. “I hope you’re satisfied.”

“Indeed, but it only whet my appetite for more.”

“If I let you drink from me this once, will you promise never to ask me again?”

“Do you think that’s fair?”

“I don’t care. Is it a deal?”

“Yes, it’s a deal,” he agreed, “but with one stipulation.”

“What kind of stipulation?” I asked suspiciously.

“I will not ask you again, so long as you do not ask me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that!” I said, completely confident that such a thing would never happen. “So, now what?”

“Now this.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders, tilted my head up ever so slightly, and kissed me, a long, lingering kiss that made me forget everything but the taste of his mouth, the heat of his body intimately pressing against mine, and a growing desire that threatened to spiral out of control.

I clung to him, lost in a world of sensual pleasure as he kissed me again, his hands skimming lightly over my back, my thigh, the curve of my breast. His touch was oddly familiar, as if we had made love a hundred times before. My whole being vibrated with need and with the excitement of discovery as my own hands moved over him, measuring the width of his shoulders, the hard wall of his chest, the silky texture of his hair.

His lips were warm as they kissed their way to my throat, his tongue like a living flame as it laved the skin beneath my ear. Moments later, pleasure such as I had never known flowed into me and through me. In a distant part of my mind, I knew that he had bitten me, that he was sipping my life’s blood, but I didn’t care. He could take as much as he wanted, he could take it all, if it would make this incredible feeling last forever.

I felt bereft when he lifted his head. “Don’t stop,” I begged softly. “Please don’t stop.”

“I told you I only wanted a taste.” His knuckles stroked my cheek. “Are you all right?”

“I’m better than all right,” I said, and then, remembering how I had begged him not to stop, I glared at him. “You knew, didn’t you?” I stabbed my finger against his chest. “You knew that once I let you do it, I’d want it again. Didn’t you? That’s why you made me agree to that stipulation of yours.”

He tried to look guilty but failed miserably.

“It certainly explains a lot. I used to wonder why some women were so obsessed with Vampires. I couldn’t understand why your mother married your father. Well, now I know.”

“Is that right?” Laughing softly, he sat up, drawing me with him. “Kathy, love, you were ‘obsessed’ with me before I ever tasted you.”

“I was not!” I declared hotly. I straightened my clothes, embarrassed by my reaction to what had happened. I’d been so sure it would be disgusting when it was quite the opposite.

“Weren’t you?”

“You’re mighty full of yourself all of a sudden,” I muttered sullenly. “I’m probably no different from the hundreds of other women you’ve had.”

“There’s one difference,” he said, cupping my cheek in his palm. “I love you. That makes all the difference in the world. When I drink from a woman, I make it as pleasant for her as I can. After all, she’s giving me her life’s essence, but it’s nothing like what you felt. Love makes all the difference.”

“And was it different for you, as well?”

“Yes. Drinking from prey eases my thirst, but drinking from you…how can I explain it?” He considered a moment, then said, “Drinking from a stranger is like drinking water, but drinking from you is like savoring a rare and exotic wine. Do you see the difference?”

It was impossible to stay angry with such a man. “Stop talking so much,” I said, “and kiss me again.”

“With pleasure,” he murmured, and claimed my lips with his.

He had tasted my blood and found pleasure in it. Even as my body responded to his kisses, I found myself wondering what it would be like to taste a Vampire’s blood, Rafe’s blood.

The thought had no sooner crossed my mind than Rafe drew back. Wordlessly, he ran the pad of his thumb across the tip of one of his fangs, and then held out his hand. “Go on, satisfy your curiosity.”

I don’t know which was more disconcerting—having him read my mind, or the thought of actually tasting his blood. “What will it do to me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It might heighten your senses for a few days, but nothing more.”

“It won’t make me a Vampire, will it?”

He laughed softly. “No, love.”

I stared at that single drop of dark red blood in morbid fascination. It was thicker, darker, than my own blood. Before I could change my mind, I quickly licked it from his finger. It was like putting my tongue to an electrical wire, and yet strangely pleasurable.

Smiling, he drew me into his embrace again. I wasn’t sure what the term was for it these days, but whether you called it necking, petting, or making out, that’s how we spent the rest of the evening. I had never in my life been kissed so thoroughly, never been closer to losing my virginity, than I was that night in Rafe Cordova’s arms. I experienced each gentle touch, each tender caress, with an intensity I had never known before. Was it love, or was it that tiny taste of forbidden blood that made the difference? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. One taste of Rafe’s blood had intoxicated me. If I could bottle the sensations erupting inside of me, I could probably make a fortune.

I don’t know how far we might have gone if he hadn’t stopped when he did.

Caught up in a sensual haze of passion, I stared at him as he gained his feet and straightened his clothing. “What are you doing?”

Taking my hand, he pulled me to my feet and into his arms. “I need to go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s very late and you need your rest.”

“What’s the real reason?”

“I haven’t fed yet, and it will be dawn soon.”

“Oh.” The reality of what he was hit me like a splash of cold water. He was going out to hunt for prey. He was going to drink someone else’s blood, and he would be taking more than just a taste.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Nodding, I lifted my face for his kiss. No doubt my lips would be swollen and sore tomorrow, I thought drily, but what the heck.

He kissed me lightly and gave me a quick hug. “Good night, love.”

“Good night.”

I walked him to the door, watched him get into his sleek black car and drive away, and went to bed with a song in my heart and a smile on my face.

I was still smiling when I woke the next morning, partly from my memory of Rafe’s kisses, and partly from the dreams I’d had the night before. Never in all my life had I had such erotic dreams. Had Rafe’s blood been responsible? Just thinking of my wayward fantasies made my cheeks burn. If Raphael was half the lover he had been in my dreams…oh, my!

I made my bed, ate breakfast, dressed, and went to the bookstore. I had no sooner opened for business when a delivery man brought me two dozen long-stemmed red roses. The only time I had ever received flowers before had been from my father. He had sent me an enormous bouquet of yellow daisies on my twenty-first birthday.

I was pretty sure these weren’t from my father. Filled with giddy anticipation, I read the card aloud. “For Kathy, lovelier than the fairest flower. Love, Rafe.”

Half an hour later, another delivery man arrived. He handed me a heart-shaped box of candy. Smiling, I read the card. “For Kathy, sweeter than chocolate. Eternally, Rafe.”

Vampire he might be, but he sure knew the way to a girl’s heart.

I was humming softly, counting the hours until sundown, when a man and a woman entered the store. One look and I knew they were both Vampires. The man was tall and lean with powerful shoulders and long limbs. His hair was as black as ink, his eyes a bold midnight blue beneath straight black brows. The woman was beautiful. Her hair, as red as flame, fell unbound to her waist. Her eyes were green flecked with gold. She had a small determined chin, a finely shaped nose, and perfectly arched brows. A necklace of amber and jet circled her slender throat.