Twilight Dreams (5 page)

Moving to Shirley's grave, he knelt to run his hands over the earth that covered her. Murmuring, “Rest well, sweetheart,” he headed back to Blair House to check on Holly.

After tomorrow night, Holly's life, her view of the world around her, would never be the same again.

* * *

Leticia Braga cursed long and loud as the vampire she was hunting vanished. One minute he had been in a booth with some mortal female; the next he was gone, taking the woman with him.

She was not surprised by the fact that he had disappeared so quickly, or the fact that he'd recognized her as one of the Undead. Both were abilities known to all vampires. What surprised her was that he knew she was hunting him.

How had he known that? And who was he, anyway? What was his connection to Saintcrow? Had Saintcrow turned him?

She shook her head. Whoever the vampire was, he had been recently turned and not by a master vampire.

Saintcrow. Just the thought of him filled her with unspeakable anger. She had spent centuries alone, estranged from her twin brother ever since the night she had turned him against his will. Seeking companionship, she had wandered the world, becoming more and more bitter with every passing year, losing more and more of her humanity.

And then she'd met Gavin. His love had given her hope for the future; his acceptance of what she was, his willingness to accept the Dark Gift, had taken the sting from the past. She had felt reborn, alive again. She had never been a beauty, but Gavin made her feel feminine, soft. Desirable.

Most astonishing of all, his love had somehow filled the emptiness inside her. Suddenly, she didn't need to feed as often. Hunting no longer thrilled her. Now, it was Gavin who satisfied her craving for blood, for acceptance, for love. Her sire had abandoned her. Her parents were long dead. Her brother would not speak to her. But none of that mattered now. Gavin had become her whole world.

And then, all too soon, he was gone, destroyed by Ryan Saintcrow. Gavin's death had stripped away the last of her humanity, snuffed out any and all hope for the future, leaving her with nothing but hatred that burned away every other thought, every other emotion, save one: her need to destroy Saintcrow.

And do it she would, if she had to chase him across the world and through all eternity.

Chapter Eight

Holly woke abruptly, the lingering images of her dreams still fresh in her mind.

Strange dreams, she thought, until she sat up and realized she was in a strange bed in a strange room, and that it was dark outside.

She glanced at her watch, then bolted upright. Good Lord, had she been drugged? She had been asleep for almost twelve hours!

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she realized she wasn't wearing anything but her bra and panties. Who had undressed her?

“Good evening.”

Holly pulled the covers up to her chin at the sound of his voice. “So, it wasn't a dream.” He looked well-rested, she noted, and as roguishly handsome as always. She clutched the blankets tighter, as if they could protect her. “Did you undress me?”

“Yes, but I didn't look.”

She lifted one brow in blatant disbelief.

“Well, not much. I went back to your house late last night and packed you a few things.” He jerked his chin toward a familiar dark blue suitcase near the door.

“That was very thoughtful,” she said politely, “but I'd like to go home now.”

He shook his head. “Not just yet.”

Holly stared at him, a trickle of unease skittering down her spine. “Micah, I want to go home. Now.” She tried to sound adamant, but there was no mistaking the apprehension in her voice. She heard it, and so did he.

“It isn't safe.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “Just listen for a minute. Someone's after me. They know I've been with you, which means your life might be in danger.”

“I don't believe you.” She darted a glance at the open door, wondering what the chances were of getting past him, but even if she could, she could hardly go running into the night in her underwear. Who knew what lurked out there? “Why would some stranger want to hurt me?”

“Because they think by hurting you, they would be hurting me.”

“But . . . but that's ridiculous. We hardly know each other.”

“She doesn't know that.”

“She?” Visions of a jealously insane wife flitted through her mind. “Good Lord, you
are
married!”

“It's nothing like that, believe me.” He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “She's actually after Saintcrow. I guess she's hoping I'll lead her to him.”

“Is he the man I saw last night before I . . . before I fainted?” She shook her head. “I've never fainted before.”

“Well, you had good reason. Why don't you get dressed? There's some food in the kitchen. You must be hungry.”

Now that he'd mentioned it, Holly realized she was starving. She would get dressed and grab something to eat, and then she was leaving, one way or another.

With a wry smile, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Holly sat there for several moments, trying to gather her thoughts. Last night, she had been in California. Tonight she was in Wyoming. Someone was looking for Micah and because of that, her own life might be in danger....

Wyoming. How had they gotten to Wyoming? It was a blur, making her wonder again if he had drugged her. She had no memory of leaving the club, no memory of how they had gotten here, or of what had happened in between.

Tamping down her growing sense of anxiety, she got out of bed and rummaged through her suitcase. She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a sweater. She found her hairbrush, which she put to good use. Her handbag was on the chair. Reaching inside, she withdrew her cell phone, frowned when there were no bars.
Maybe outside
, she thought, tucking the phone into her pocket as she left the bedroom.

The house was large and cold, and for no reason she could pinpoint, the place gave her the creeps. There was no sense of anyone living there, no knickknacks, no pictures on the walls. She peeked into the rooms she passed on her way downstairs. The bedroom she had slept in was just one of many. All were furnished with a bed and a dresser and nothing more.

In the kitchen, she found a large ice chest on the floor filled with soft drinks and a couple of apples. A bucket of take-out chicken waited on the counter, along with a plate and a fork. There were no appliances to be seen, no table or chairs. Curious, she looked inside the cupboards. They were all empty. Did Micah live here? Maybe he had just moved in and his new appliances hadn't yet arrived.

Feeling as though she were trapped inside some bizarre universe, she filled the plate with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw, grabbed a Coke from the ice chest, and went into the living room to eat.

Micah sat on one of the sofas, waiting for her.

Holly sat on the opposite couch, the plate balanced on her lap. “Aren't you having any?”

His gaze moved to the hollow of her throat. “I've already eaten.”

Holly nodded. She ate quickly, conscious of him watching her, but too hungry to care. When she finished, she put the plate aside, took a deep breath, and said, “I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I thought I gave you one earlier.”

“How did we get here?”

Micah stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his arms over his chest, watching her like a cat at a mouse hole all the while.

The stillness of the house, combined with his unblinking gaze, unnerved her. She was far from home, alone in a strange place with a man she scarcely knew. He could be some kind of lunatic, a serial killer, a sexual predator. She told herself she was letting her imagination get the best of her.

“A lunatic? Really?” he remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Her eyes widened with the realization that he had read her mind.

“I'm not going to hurt you, Holly.”

“I'd like to believe that!”

“Believe it.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. “There's something else I need you to believe.”

“What's that, I'm afraid to ask?”

“You remember the other night, when you asked me if I believed in vampires?”

“Yes, why?” She plucked at the hem of her sweater, trying to ignore the cold knot of fear growing in her belly.

“You asked why anyone would want to be one.”

“Didn't we already have this discussion?”

He heard the tremor in her voice, saw the tension in the stiffness of her shoulders. She was afraid, but had nothing concrete to focus her fear on. That was about to change.

“Vampires are real, Holly.”

She stared at him. “If you're making a joke, it isn't funny.”

“Am I laughing?”

“So you're telling me you believe in vampires?”

“Actually, I'm telling you that I
am
a vampire.”

“I've had enough of this,” she said, rising. “Take me home. I don't know who you think you are, or where we are, but I insist you take me home. Now!”

Micah shook his head. “I can't do that.”

“Why not? You brought me here.”

“I told you, it isn't safe for you to go home right now.”

She scrubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if she had a chill. “I have a feeling it isn't safe for me here, either.”

“You're not in any danger from me, or from anyone here. Believe that if you believe nothing else.”

But Holly wasn't listening. Turning on her heel, she ran for the front door and out into the night, her only thought to get away from him. She didn't believe in vampires, but she believed in maniacs. She ran as if her life depended on it, which she was very much afraid it did.

She ran down the hill as fast as her legs would carry her, ran until the spooky old house was far behind her and she was gasping for breath. Afraid to stop, she pressed her hand to her side and kept going.

After what seemed like forever, she saw dark shapes ahead. Shapes that turned into houses. She hurried toward the closest one. The windows were dark, but she pounded on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello? Please, somebody, I need help!”

Relief flooded through her when an inside light came on.

Relief that quickly turned to defeat when Micah opened the door.

He stared at her, one brow arched. “Where do you think you're going?”

“Away from you!”

“There's nowhere for you to go, sunshine. Saintcrow and his wife would like to meet you.”

Holly shook her head vigorously. “Well, I don't want to meet them.” For all she knew, his
friends
were as crazy as he was. With a bravado she was far from feeling, she folded her arms across her chest. “If you're a vampire, prove it.”

“I brought you here from L.A. What other proof do you need?”

“You could have drugged me and brought me here while I was unconscious.” That certainly made more sense than anything else.

“You don't believe that,” he muttered. “Okay, how's this?” he asked, and he dissolved into a dark, silvery mist, floating just above her head.

Holly uttered a word that would have scandalized her father and made her mother blush.

Laughing, Micah materialized in front of her. “Convinced?”

“Let me see your fangs.”

“Only if I can bite you.” He grinned inwardly. Little did she know, he had already done that.

“No!” She backed away from him, her eyes wide and scared, her heart pounding a wild tattoo.

Damn. He could hear the blood flowing through her veins, smell it just beneath the surface of her skin. “It won't hurt,” he said, his voice thick. “In fact, you'll like it.”

Cupping her hands around either side of her throat, she shook her head.

“Maybe some other time.” Micah pried one hand from her neck and interlocked his fingers with hers. “Come on, we need to go. Saintcrow and Kadie are waiting.”

Before she could protest, Holly found herself standing in front of a large fireplace in a room that looked like the interior of an old-world castle. A tapestry, its colors faded by time, adorned one of the walls. An ornate bookcase took up space on another. A suit of armor stood in one corner; a pair of crossed swords hung over the fireplace. The armor and swords looked out of place in the same room as the Jonathan Adler sofa, love seat, and armchair arranged in front of the hearth. The sofa was flanked by a pair of exquisitely carved end tables.

The furnishings received only a cursory glance. It was the couple on the sofa that held Holly's attention. The man was incredibly handsome, with inky-black hair and deep black eyes. A thin white scar ran from the outer corner of his left eye, down his cheek, to where it disappeared under his shirt collar. Power radiated from him like heat from a forest fire.

She glanced from Saintcrow to Micah and knew they were the same. Both vampires. Their combined power filled the room and raised the hairs along her arms. She remembered meeting Micah for the first time and thinking he was like no other man she had ever met. Now she knew why.

The woman had lovely dark, wavy brown hair and golden-brown eyes. She possessed the same aura of preternatural power as the men.

Rising, the woman hugged Micah, then smiled at Holly. “I'm Kadie,” she said. “Welcome to our home.”

Holly nodded, unable to speak past the lump of fear clogging her throat. She was leery of the woman, but the man terrified her. He was a killer. A predator. She knew it as surely as she knew she was prey.

Micah squeezed Holly's hand. “No need to be afraid of Saintcrow. He won't bite you.”

“Unless you ask me to,” Saintcrow remarked, flashing a hint of fang.

“Rylan!” Kadie glared at her husband. “Behave yourself.”

Grinning, he reached up and squeezed her hand. “Yes, dear.”

With a shake of her head, Kadie resumed her place on the sofa. “Please don't be afraid of us, Holly. We mean you no harm. Sit down, won't you?”

Holly looked up at Micah, a silent plea in her eyes. She was wary of him, but far more afraid of Saintcrow.

Micah grinned. So, he was the lesser of two evils. “I think I'll take Holly back to Blair House,” he said. “This is a lot for her to process.”

“Of course, she must have a lot of questions,” Kadie said with an understanding smile. “Holly, you can trust Micah. He's a good man. He won't hurt you.” She sent a warning glance at Saintcrow. “And neither will we.”

“Maybe we'll see the two of you tomorrow night,” Micah said.

“Just a minute.” In a move too quick for human eyes to follow, Saintcrow stood in front of Holly. Her cell phone appeared in his hand as if by magic.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed. “Give me that!”

“I'll just hang on to it while you're here.”

Indignant, Holly stared at Micah. He shrugged, then wrapped his arm around her waist.

Moments later, they were back in the living room at Blair House.

Releasing his hold on Holly, Micah went to stand near the fireplace, putting some distance between them. “Are you okay?”

“I don't think I'll ever be okay again.” She curled up in a corner of the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, arms tightly folded across her chest. “I can't believe the nerve of that . . . that vampire! What gives him the right to take my phone?”

“It's his town, Holly. He makes the rules. Maybe he was afraid you'd call for help.”

“Humph! I already tried. No bars. Was that his doing?”

Micah shrugged. “Perhaps.” He wasn't surprised by her confession. Had he been in her shoes, he would have called for help as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Back when Saintcrow and the vampires had lived here, Saintcrow hadn't allowed any of the vamps or humans to have phones or computers or anything that would put them in touch with the outside world. In those days, when vampires who had grown tired of dodging the hunters came seeking refuge in Morgan Creek, they had become prisoners, in their own way, as much as the humans they fed on.