Amanda Ashley (6 page)
Authors: Deeper Than the Night
Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal
Alexander leaned back in his chair, his thoughts turning from Lilith to Kara. She would be waiting for him tomorrow night.
The thought filled him with anticipation. And dread.
Kara thought the hours would never pass. She fidgeted through dinner, listened impatiently as Gail recited her homework, stared at the TV without seeing a thing.
At eight-thirty, she tucked Gail into bed and said good night to Nana.
At nine o'clock, she took a long, leisurely bubble bath, dressed in a pair of silky black pants and a pale pink sweater, combed her hair, brushed her teeth, applied her lipstick with care.
At ten o'clock, she went out into the backyard and sat on the swing.
And waited.
And waited.
At eleven, she told herself he wasn't coming. And still she waited, wondering what there was about Alexander Claybourne that touched her so deeply.
Perhaps it was the air of supreme loneliness that clung to him. Perhaps it was the feeling that he needed her, although she admitted that was probably just wishful thinking on her part.
“Kara.”
His voice. Was it real, or was she still dreaming? “Alexander?”
“I'm here.”
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I must have fallen asleep.”
“You should not be out here. It's cold.”
He was wearing a long black coat that reminded her of the dusters old-time cowboys used to wear. Shrugging it off, he draped it over her shoulders.
“You said you'd be here at ten.”
“I know.”
She looked up at him, waiting for an explanation, an apology, something. But he only stood there, gazing down at her, his dark eyes filled with sadness.
“What is it?” she asked. “What's wrong?”
“I should not have come here.”
“Why? Oh, no.” She shook her head, certain he was about to tell her he had a wife and the requisite two-point-three children. “You're married, aren't you?”
Alexander laughed softly, wishing it was something as ordinary as a wife that was keeping them apart. “No, Kara, I'm not married.”
“What is it then?”
“I'm afraid you have asked the one question I cannot answer.”
“Then I won't ask it again.”
The simplicity of her reply, the trust shining in
her eyes, was his undoing. Kneeling before her, he took her hand in his.
“Kara, I am not like other men. You must never love me. Or trust me.”
“I don't understand.”
“Pray you never do.”
“But . . .” She bit down on her lower lip, remembering she had promised not to ask why. “Are we never to see each other again?”
“It would be for the best.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
“Don't I have anything to say about it?”
“No.”
“If you don't want to see me anymore, why did you come here tonight?”
“Because I could not stay away.”
She smiled triumphantly. “So you do want to continue seeing me!”
“It is my fondest desire.”
“Mine, too.” She put her hand over his mouth when he started to speak. “No. Don't say another word. I want to be with you. You want to be with me. I don't see the problem.”
Gently, he removed her hand from his mouth, then kissed her palm. Warmth feathered up her arm to pool around her heart.
“I hope you never do,” Alexander said quietly. Rising, he drew her to her feet. “Your legâit's better?”
Kara nodded. “The doctor said I can go back to work next week.”
“Will you meet me here again tomorrow night?”
She nodded again, happiness welling inside her. “Will you kiss me good night?”
“Will the sun rise in the morning?” he murmured, and then he slanted his mouth over hers, his lips claiming hers in a long, lingering kiss that left her shaken to the soles of her feet.
When he took his mouth from hers, Kara swayed against him, certain she would have fallen but for his arms around her.
“I hope you do not regret this, Kara.”
“I won't,” she whispered. “I won't.”
“Good night, then,” he replied, and hoped, for her sake, that she grew tired of him before it was too late.
In the last hours before dawn, Alexander sat in front of his computer, reading what he had written earlier.
Chapter II
I walked through the house, looking for Lilith. For the first time, I noticed that heavy draperies covered every window, and when I opened one, I saw there were shutters on the outside. I wandered through the downstairs, but she was nowhere to be found. I paused at the bottom of the winding staircase, looking up at the darkness beyond. She had forbidden me to ever go upstairs, but on this night, something drew me. Something stronger than fear of discovery, stronger than mere curiosity.
I knew, with every step that I took, that I was embarking on a journey from which there would be no return, yet something compelled me onward.
I think, even now, that I knew what I would find when I opened her door. Perhaps I had always known. Perhaps it wasn't the power of her mind that had clouded mine all this time, but my own fear.
Mouth dry, heart pounding, I opened the door to Lilith's room, and came face to face with a scene out of one of my childhood nightmares: Lilith, dressed all in black, bending over the body of a young boy.
Though I hadn't made a sound, she looked up, her amber-colored eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. A collage of ghastly images imprinted themselves on my mind: the boy's face, completely drained of color, the crimson stains on the white bedspread that matched the blood dripping from Lilith's lips.
She hissed at me, her eyes blazing. And then, very gently, she lowered the boy's body to the bed and stood up. Slow step by slow step, she walked toward me. Every instinct I possessed screamed at me to run, but I could not move. I could only stand there, horrified, knowing that every nightmare I had ever had was about to come true.
“You should not have come here.” Her voice was low and filled with rage.
I tried to speak, to tell her I was sorry, but the words wouldn't come. I could only stare at her face, at the blood that stained her lips.
She put her hand on my shoulder, let it slide down my arm. “You are a beautiful man, Alesandro,” she remarked, her voice soft, seductive. “I had hoped to wait another year or two to bring you over, but now . . .” She lifted one slender shoulder. “The Dark Gift should not be
bestowed on those who are too young.”
I was trembling now, more frightened than I had ever been in my life. She knew it, and it pleased her.
“Please.” I forced the word past dry lips. “Please.”
“Please what?” she asked, her voice silky, her eyes blazing hotter and hotter.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
I glanced at the body lying on her bed. “I don't want to be like you.”
Slowly, she looked over her shoulder, then back at me. “I see. Would you rather be like him?”
I stared at her, repelled by both choices.
Lilith stroked my cheek. Her hand, usually cool, was warm. Her cheeks were flushed. I flinched as her nails bit into my cheek, breaking the skin. There was blood on her hand when she drew it away, and I watched in horror as she licked my blood from her fingers.
“Sweet,” she purred. “I knew you would be sweet.”
“No.” I took a step backward, turned to run, only to feel her hand on my arm. I was tall and muscular. She was small and slender, yet she held me fast in her grip, and I was powerless against her.
She smiled, exposing her fangs. I knew then what real fear was. Panic-stricken, I lashed out, my fist driving into her face. I had felled grown men with that blow. Lilith didn't flinch. Her hands turned into claws, her fingers digging into my arm, tearing through cloth and flesh. With a groan, I dropped to my knees.
Lilith knelt beside me, eyes burning. “I cannot bear to kill you,” she said. “But I fear I cannot let you go. You have seen too much, and you know where I rest. And so . . .”
She drew me into her arms, holding me against her. She smelled of blood and reeked of death.
“Please,” I said, hating the weakness in my voice, the trembling I could not control.
“It will be soon over,
mon ange,
” she crooned, and she bent over me, blocking everything else from my sight, so that I saw nothing but her face, and the fires of the damned that burned in the pitiless depths of her eyes.
I felt her teeth at my throat. Fear such as I had never known rose up within me, and then the fear was gone, overshadowed by an ecstasy that was almost sensual. My strength drained away. It grew hard to breathe, to think.
And then I was drifting, floating, lighter than air. Darkness closed in around me, darker than anything I had ever known. I screamed as the blackness surrounded me, but no sound issued from my throat.
I was dying. Alone. In the dark I had feared all my life. I knew it but I was too weak to care. Surely there would be light in heaven, I thought, and prayed to die quickly, that I might find my way out of the darkness and into the light.
And then I felt it. A drop of liquid fire on my tongue. It burned through me, followed by another drop, and then another, until the drops became a river.
I opened my eyes, and knew that I would
never see the world the same way again. That I would never be the same again. . . .
Alexander leaned back in his chair, pleased with what he had written, thinking that, like Alesandro, he would never be the same again.
She was waiting for him, sitting in the swing as she had the night before. Alexander sensed her presence even before he vaulted over the fence, landing lightly on his feet. Through the darkness, he could see her, a slender form clad in green pants and a white, off-the-shoulder blouse.
As he closed the distance between them, Kara stood up and began walking toward him. They met near a flowering peach tree. For a moment, their gazes met, and then she was in his arms and he was kissing her, holding her, as though he would never again let her go.
“Kara.” He held her close, wanting to draw her goodness into him. She smelled of sunlight and flowers. Her skin was soft and warm. Closing his eyes, he let himself bask in her nearness, her warmth. Two hundred years, he thought. It had
been two hundred years since he'd last held a woman he cared for; two hundred years since he'd let a woman care for him. He had forgotten how wonderful it was to hold and be held in return.
“I missed you,” Kara said. She looked up at him, startled by the intensity of his gaze.
“Did you?” His voice was deep and husky and unsteady.
“Yes. I thought about you all day.” She glanced away, then met his gaze again. “Did you think of me?”
“Every waking moment.” He slipped his arm around her waist and they walked over to the swing and sat down.
“I had a phone call from the hospital today,” Kara said. “They want me to go to the hospital in Grenvale for some tests tomorrow.”
“What kind of tests?”
“I'm not sure. Blood tests of some sort.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I don't know. When I was in the hospital, all the doctors could talk about was the remarkable recovery I had made, but now they want to do more tests. You don't think the blood they gave me was tainted, do you?” She couldn't bring herself to voice her worst fears, but the threat of AIDS loomed large in her mind.
“I'm sure it wasn't.” Alexander stared into the distance. He knew what they had foundâa trace of his blood, alien blood.
“Why don't you have a telephone?”
“I find them an intrusion into my life, my privacy.”
“But how do you stay in touch with your editor?”
“By mail. I write during the day, and prefer to be
undisturbed by phones ringing. I find it breaks my concentration.” He took her hand in his. “Did you try to call me?”
Kara nodded. “A couple of weeks ago,” she admitted. “And then today, after I heard from the hospital, I wished I could call you.”
“Perhaps I shall have to get a phone then.”
She smiled up at him as if she'd just won the lottery. “I'll probably spend the night in Grenvale. Nana's going with me. She has an old friend who lives there. They're going to spend the day together while I'm at the hospital.” She stared down at his hand covering hers. “Maybe you could call me tomorrow night?”
“Certainly.”
“Here, you can use my cell phone. I'll be staying at the Grenvale Motel.”
Alex stared at the compact instrument for a moment, then nodded. “I shall call you there,” he said, tucking the phone into his pocket. “And I will see you here Wednesday evening.”
“I'll be looking forward to it.” She chewed the inside of her lower lip a moment. “Do you think maybe you could come by earlier on Wednesday night so we could spend more time together?”
“If you wish.” He watched as her finger traced meaningless patterns on the back of his hand. His life had been like that, he thought, meaningless circles that started nowhere and went nowhere. Until now. “What will your grandmother say?”
“It doesn't matter. I picked up my car from the repair shop today, and I'll be moving back to my own apartment on Thursday. I'll give you my address when I get back.”
Alexander nodded, although he already knew where she lived.
“You weren't born in this country, were you?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“It's the way you talk. I mean, there's nothing wrong with the way you talk. Oh, I don't know how to explain it. It's just the way you turn a phrase sometimes.”
Alexander smiled at her. How perceptive she was. English was not his first language, or even his second.
“Would you care to go out Thursday night?” he asked.
“Sure. Where shall we go?”
