Winter's Touch (Immortal Touch Series) (5 page)

“
Ten. You were all the way down the street before you woke up and started screaming bloody murder. Almost gave poor Mrs. Pendergrast a heart attack. She was sure you were being abducted.”

“Really? I don’t remember screaming.”

“Believe me, you did. Woke just about the whole neighborhood. Strange that you only ever did it that one time. After that, I was afraid for the longest time that you’d sleepwalk yourself into traffic or out a second-story window. I actually thought about nailing your bedroom window shut.”

“You did?”

“Mm-hm. I always wondered if maybe it had something to do with those nightmares you used to have. You don’t ever have them anymore, do you?”

“No,” Eva lied.
It was pointless to worry her mother by confessing that the dreams had persisted throughout the years, arriving to torment her once a month as regularly as menstrual cramps. And about as welcome. She’d come to accept them as an inevitability. One thing the loss of her father had taught her - there were some things in this world you just couldn’t change no matter how hard you tried. Accept the bruises and get on with life.

“
You never did it again, though,” her mother continued. “Isn’t that weird? Just one of those random unexplainable childhood things, I guess. Well, I’ll go warm up a veggie to go with the chicken. What sounds better, peas or green beans?”

“Mom, you
know
I hate green beans.”

Abby
gave her an exasperated look. “Maybe you should do your term paper on kids who grow up with the preconceived notion that they hate a vegetable they never even tried.”

“I don’t have to taste them to know they’re gross. They
smell
gross.”

“So does
Rio sometimes, but you love him.”

“
True. Oh, I almost forgot. I need to take my car in to the dealership tomorrow.”

“Why, what’s it doing
?”

“It’s making this squealing noise and smells
funny, like burning rubber.” Eva pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head ached from staring at the screen for so long. She’d taken advantage of the afternoon off from work to get a head start on her research. “Maybe one of the belts is about to break or something. I don’t know - with my luck it’ll be something that isn’t covered under the warranty. Can you maybe follow me over there?”

“
Sure, if you can be ready to leave by eight. Now why don’t you shut down that computer and come help me with dinner? I’m ravenous.”

~
*~*~

He
was ravenous.

C
ould it really be time again already? The days, months, years...they flew by so quickly. He’d been in Oregon for two years now, and preferred it to any of the previous places he’d lived. It was a shame he couldn’t stay in one town for any length of time. Too many unexplained deaths in one area coupled with one young man who never aged could only equal suspicion. And though twelve random deaths a year didn’t sound like much, when one was constantly forced to invent creative solutions for covering up the murders, the whole situation could become somewhat overwhelming. In the past year he’d taken to feeding primarily from the elderly, as their abrupt departures from this world were unlikely to be questioned. This temporary solution served to make things less complicated. The only downside was that aged blood was just so damned unpalatable.

Still, he couldn’t continue like this.
At some point his luck would most assuredly run out and he’d be discovered, if not as a supernatural entity then at the very least as a serial killer. Neither outcome was acceptable. Neither would come to any good end.

Lainie constantly urged him to take the chance, to
allow one of the victims to live. Just to see. To know for sure. He knew she disapproved of his methods, but having practically raised him from birth until the age of twelve, she loved him enough to turn a blind eye when necessary. It was for this reason he’d made the decision to confide in his former nanny ten years ago, after he’d left Nebraska. She’d been like a mother to him, long ago. And it was because of this that she’d readily agreed to come live with him as a caretaker of sorts.

His own
motives were less than noble. He required help, and she was the one person he could trust beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had no lingering affection for the Scotswoman he’d known since he was an infant. As a child he’d cared very much for her, in a former existence that seemed a distant dream, but those unnecessary feelings had vanished along with his last human breath. He accepted her presence with resigned indifference. She was useful, therefore tolerable.

As for
permitting one of the bitten to live...

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered it before. The possible
aftereffect was his main hindrance. If the person were to survive, would they then become infected as well? It was far too big a risk to take. How could he dispose of the changeling if necessary? His own wounds healed at such an accelerated rate, there was no possibility of death by conventional methods. There was the stake-through-the-heart approach, of course, but so many of the folk tales had already proven themselves to be delusions born of ignorance and fear. And if a metal blade was a useless weapon, did it truly stand to reason that a splintered piece of wood should fare any better?

However,
if he could be spared endless years of repetitious murder and the compulsory concealments...yes, perhaps it might be worth the risk after all. There was a chance that nothing significant would happen. In which case he could keep his prisoner as livestock, draining the blood as needed. After all, farmers kept chickens for their eggs, did they not? It really was a rather intriguing idea...

True
, it was a gamble, but the advantages might just outweigh the risks. The foremost question was...if he
should
decide to throw the dice, who best fit the criteria as his potential test subject?

~
*~*~

She was cursed. No doubt about it.

Eva’s day had been undeniably lousy.
Nothing
was going right. She received a low grade on the American Government quiz she’d neglected to study for, her fault admittedly, but the myriad of other unpleasantries were completely beyond her control and in her opinion, undeserved.

To start the day off
with a bang, Rio had been thoughtful enough to present her with a wet, slimy hairball left smack in the middle of her bed while she was showering. Things had only gone downhill from there.

The
hottie she’d been tutoring in English literature for the past three weeks asked out her best friend Mary Ellen. Instead of her. (Did he think she’d been wasting valuable time helping him with his work because she was Mother freaking Teresa? Men were so dense!)

The new boots
that were purchased on sale were proving to be instruments of torture, and as a result her feet were now killing her.

The mechanics at the dealership had been working on her car since last week, and
weren’t bothering to return any of the calls she’d made to them today.

Her
college classes were frustrating her to no end. Professor Baumgartner was the devil incarnate, she was sure of it. His arrogant attitude and condescending criticisms were almost more than could be tolerated by even the most complacent students. Every last person enrolled in one of his classes had at some point prayed zealously for his untimely demise. Personally, Eva favored spontaneous combustion.

And now, as if Introduction to Psychology wasn’t
exasperating enough, there was the poor American Government grade to contend with.

But t
he fun didn’t end there. The day care where she was employed part time suddenly decided cuts should be made due to a recent decrease in enrollment. Of course the college student with no family to support would be the first to go. Today would be her last day.
So sorry we couldn’t give you more notice, sweetie! But we’ll be more than happy to write you a reference.

And as a parting gift, Macy Richardson’s mother was
half an hour late picking her up. For some reason the woman felt the need to unload on someone about her jerk of an ex-husband who was making her life miserable, while all Eva could do was nod sympathetically and not-so-discreetly check her watch every so often. It was after six-thirty and dark by the time she called her mother for a ride, but of course there was no answer. What did she expect? That the gods of chaos were going to take pity on her now?

“
Hey Mom. I’m just now getting off work and I think I’m just gonna walk home. I need to clear my head. You have no idea what kind of day I’ve had. I just got laid off, can you believe that? Nice, huh? Anyway, don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll be home in a bit. Love you.”

Shoving the cell phone into her pocket
, she wearily started home, limping in the boots that hadn’t turned out to be such a bargain. She tried to look at things optimistically. Things could be worse, right? At least
she
didn’t have a lunatic ex-husband to fend off. And cheap footwear aside, the walk wouldn’t kill her. Besides, the day care wasn’t that far from home.

Unfortunately she was already three blocks away by the time she realized she’d forgotten
not only her books and laptop but her purse as well.

And then, out of nowhere, it began to rain.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was as if there was some cosmic force determined to mark October fifth as undisputed number one in the
Guinness Book of Crap Days
. Even the moon was hiding behind a cluster of dark clouds, refusing to light her way. The rain came down harder, soaking her hair and drenching her to the skin. It was all so utterly absurd, it was almost comical.

And so, when the black
SUV pulled to the curb alongside her and stopped, she could hardly believe her luck had turned.

The passenger window lowered, and for a split second she didn’t recognize the driver. Until he
leaned toward her and she got a better look.

There was no mistaking him then. The
tall, fair-haired, impossibly handsome man who once lived next door. Her heart fluttered strangely. Something about him had always elicited unease from her, and even though ten years had passed since he’d moved away she felt it still.

“Mr. Winter?”

Even through the darkness of the stormy night, she fancied she could see a predatory gleam in his black eyes.

“Hello, little
Eva. My, how you’ve grown.”

~
*~*~

It was
dry and comfortable inside the vehicle, if not very warm. Sopping wet and chilled to the bone, Eva snuggled against the seat with her arms crossed, shivering. Resting her head against the leather, she surveyed her former neighbor. He hadn’t changed in the slightest. Still looked exactly as she remembered him, although back then she hadn’t been old enough to realize just how incredibly gorgeous he was. She’d never in her life seen anyone so physically breathtaking. His profile was that of a god.

Must have been blessed with really good genes. Because h
e looked to be in his early twenties...but he couldn’t be, could he? By now he must be well past thirty, at least. If the fountain of youth existed, then he’d found it.

“I’m so glad you came along.
The storm took me by surprise.”

He
switched off the radio, interrupting the strains of a popular Flyleaf song. “It
was
fortuitous that I happened to be passing by. My jacket is in the back seat if you’d like to put it on. You must be cold.” The British accent was still discernible, though diluted some by his years in America.

“Thanks.
You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Gratefully she reached behind her for the blue ski jacket. Instead of putting it on, she used it like a blanket to cover herself. Her teeth began to chatter in spite of the rudimentary covering. Though the leather seats were warm, the surrounding air felt chilly to her damp skin. She wondered if it would be impolite to ask him to turn on the heater. The rain was pouring down harder now, and visibility was so limited they were barely crawling along.

He
glanced at her, amusement evident. “You look like a drowned rat. There’s a flask of brandy in the glove compartment if you’d like some. It’ll warm you.”

“Oh...no, that’s okay.”

“Would you mind passing it to me then?”

Eva opened the
compartment and handed him the silver flask. “Do you normally drink while driving?”

He took a
swallow and passed it back to her. “That was hardly enough to result in my intoxication. Besides, the heater isn’t working. You should have some yourself. You’ll feel a lot better, trust me.”

The angry roaring of the downpour grew louder. The very sound of the flooding rain made her cold, as though just by hearing it she could feel
the sensation on her skin.

“Well, bottoms up.” She
tipped the flask and swallowed, then immediately began to cough as she felt the liquid burning all the way down. “Good Lord!”