As Midnight Loves the Moon

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014 Beth D. Carter

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-919-6

Cover
Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
Laurie Temple

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING:
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
 
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This
is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

Thanks to everyone at
Evernight
, especially
Laurie and Stacey.
 

Here’s
to new beginnings and new adventures.

AS MIDNIGHT LOVES THE MOON

Beth D. Carter

Copyright © 2014

Prologue

Daphne made her way into the dark
building, her maid uniform neatly pressed. Her sensible work shoes might be
large and clunky, but they were comfortable and had only cost her five dollars
at the thrift store. It was night and the wind was blowing sharply, the cold
breeze hinting at the coming seasonal change. Fall was fast approaching and
with it, Daphne knew she was going to have a buy a few pieces of clothing if
she didn’t want to freeze.

She had to stop as a wave of
dizziness passed over her. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest and her lungs
felt like they were on fire. She wondered how much longer this damn flu was
going to last. It had hit her about a month earlier but it hadn’t eased up. In
fact, each day it seemed to get harder and harder to breath, and she knew what that
meant. Her frail heart already
worked
hard to stay
beating and being sick was a setback she could ill afford.

Still, she had to work. It was hard
to find a nighttime job so she had to keep this one, working as a night cleaner.
Her little problem
prevented her from
working with the public so the night hours, as well as the isolation of
cleaning the office building, suited her to a T. Not taking a deep breath,
because that would only send her into a coughing fit, she continued on slowly. The
night guard eyed her, so she smiled at him and moved to the bank of elevators. Just
before the outer door swung shut behind her, the hair on the back of her neck
rose and she spun around, looking into the deep darkness of night. She felt as
if someone was staring at her and it creeped
her the
hell
out. She repeatedly hit the close button on the elevator door. Only when she
was safely hidden behind the thin metal frame did she let her sigh of relief
ooze
out.

Shaking off the sensation, she rode
the car down to the basement, where housekeeping was located, and walked into
the break room. She punched her time card before opening her locker to stuff
her purse and sweater inside the buddy hole. Not that she had to worry about
anyone stealing her stuff, because the night crew consisted of the front door
guard, the maintenance custodian, and herself. She got her cart, replaced all
the items that were about used up, and began her rounds.

Like always, Daphne began on the
top floor, the president’s office, because that took the most time. She
vacuumed first and let the dust settle before wiping all the furniture down,
including the black leather couch and matching chair. Her head was spinning and
all she wanted to do was sit down, but she really couldn’t take the time to
stop.

After taking care of the main
office, she moved to the lower floors. By this time and her heart was racing
and it was hard to grasp her breath. She had to take a moment to sit down or
else she would fall. But she only took long enough to get her heart rate back
to normal.

It took her several hours longer to
clean the four-story building than usual. By the time she punched out and
stored her cleaning cart, Daphne felt like she was going to pass out. She left
the building and began to walk down the street, glad it was empty so late at
night. The wind blew fiercely, the cold snaking its way under her sweater to
chill her skin and steal her breath. She slumped against the wall, unable to
take another step. Her heart was racing again and the world tilted sharply.

She felt herself sliding and right
before she hit the ground, a set of strong arm wrapped around her. Daphne had a
quick glimpse of dark, intense eyes before oblivion claimed her.

****

Wayde Wallace stared at the
unconscious woman in his arms with a mixture of concern and hunger. It’d been
so long since he’d fed and he could hear her heart racing, could smell her
blood pumping…wait. He smelled more than just her blood. He could smell
sickness.

Dear lord.

She was dying.

Chapter One

The shadows were all around,
reaching for him.
Tempting him.
It would be so easy to
crawl into them and lose
himself
, but resist them he
must. He refused to let his vampire side dominate.

Wayde pulled the collar on his coat
up closer to his neck and then shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he
quickened his step. The night was cold as the fine mist of fog clung to him
with featherlike tentacles. It was a perfect night for someone like him. If he
wished, he wouldn’t have a problem finding someone to feed on, a little taste
to renew his life force. One or two whispered words and he’d create such a
sensual
haze,
his victim would be wandering the fog, searching
every night looking for him, wanting more.

With a growl, he pushed on, pushed
past his need, his hunger. He’d find some stray animal soon and that would take
care of his need for sustenance. As for his sexual needs…all he had to think
about was Daphne and his libido died a swift death. His sun was dying and a
moral dilemma loomed on the horizon.

He remembered that first night he’d
brought her home and laid her upon the bed in the guest room. She’d been so
pale, and already at death’s door. Something inside him urged him to take her,
change her, to save her life in any way possible, but he couldn’t do that until
she knew what it was like to be a creature of the night. He’d been born a
vampire, but he’d seen too many mortals unable to handle the endless tomorrows,
and he wouldn’t give her that insanity unless she knew there would never be a
sun, never be food. Blood would be her life force.

When he saw the welcoming lights of
his building, Wayde shook off the morose thoughts and breathed a sigh of
relief. He needed those bright lights around him, not the world of shadow and
things that go bump in the night. The doorman, recognizing him, gave a bow and
opened the door. As the door shut behind him, Wayde thought he caught a brief,
bare glimpse of a man. Tall, dark, sinfully handsome, the type that always made
Wayde
forget
logic and follow the call of his cock.

He pushed the button on the
elevator. The doors opened as if they had been waiting for him and he stepped
inside, hitting the button to the penthouse floor. When he opened the door to
his home, he flipped on the foyer light. Using that light to guide him to his
living room, he walked up to the large bay window overlooking
Central Street
and
Westrin
Park
, glancing down to
see if he saw the man again. He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the tall trees,
seeing nothing but natural movement as the fog wound its way in and out of the
branches.

No man, no woman, no sex for
Wayde tonight
.

He closed the curtains and turned
around, jumping as he saw the silhouette of a woman standing in his hallway.

“Good evening, Wayde,” Daphne greeted,
stepping closer. He leaned over and clicked on the table lamp.

“Hello, Daphne,” he murmured. “What
are you still doing up?”

“I was worried about you,” she
said. “I heard on the news there’s some sort of serial killer out there.”

“I have excellent fighting skills,”
he assured her. “I don’t want you worrying about me. Let me worry about you.”

She blushed beautifully and glanced
down. “I made dinner.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t
have to cook for me.”

“I’m finally starting to feel
stronger. It’s just a way to say thank you, again, for taking me in. I’m
feeling much better now, so I probably should get out of your hair.”

“Don’t be silly,” he dismissed, as
he took off his coat and hung it up on the rack near the door. “My home is
quite large, as you can see, and very empty. I enjoy knowing the space is being
utilized.”

He saw redness invade her pale
cheeks. She was a shy thing, unable to look at him if he was looking directly at
her. She seemed like a wonderful throwback to a time long ago, when a woman’s
virtue was her most prized possession. He scented the innocence on her and it
made him ache for her. He’d craved her the first time he’d smelled her sunshine
scent, but he’d been unable to act on his hunger once he’d gotten a sniff of
how sick she was.

He probably should have just left
her alone, but something about her called out to him, a part that he didn’t
even know existed. He’d brought her back to his home and had called in a doctor
to treat the pneumonia lingering her in lungs. And although he knew she was
feeling better, he hadn’t yet told her about the heart value defect that he’d
detected. After all, how could he introduce that particular conversation?