Night's Master (2 page)

I woke up Thursday morning feeling jittery inside, a condition that grew steadily worse with each passing tick of the clock. I took a long shower, spent half an hour applying my makeup and doing my hair, and another twenty minutes trying to decide what to wear. Since Raphael was picking me up at the store, I wouldn’t have time to come home and change for our date later. In the end, I settled on a pair of white slacks and a green turtleneck sweater that made my eyes look a shade darker than they were. I wondered if Raphael liked green eyes. The word
Vampire
whispered through my mind, sending me to my jewelry box where I kept a gold crucifix, not because I was Catholic, but because crosses were supposed to repel Vampires. I had worn it constantly in New York, but it hadn’t seemed necessary here in Oak Hollow until I met Raphael.

I fastened the chain around my neck, then took a last look in the mirror, wishing my hair was curly and black instead of long and straight and blond. I slipped into my comfy work shoes, grabbed a pair of white high-heeled sandals to change into for my date with the Undead, scooped up my handbag and my keys, and headed to the bookstore.

To my surprise, I had several ordinary customers that afternoon.

One of them, Susie McGee, was the down-to-earth, outgoing, friendly type. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face, short, dark curly hair, bright blue eyes, and a harried expression. She was about five feet three inches tall, making her two inches shorter than I was. After she paid for her purchases, she lingered at the counter.

“This is a great place,” she said, looking around. “We’ve needed a bookstore for donkey’s years, but we’re not really big enough to interest a Barnes & Noble or a Borders, you know?”

I nodded, keeping one eye on her three boys, who were playing hide-and-seek in the aisles. They were cute kids. I estimated they were all under the age of seven. They all had their mother’s dark curly hair and blue eyes. After twenty minutes of watching them run around my store, I knew why their mother looked stressed out.

“I just love to read,” Susie went on. “After a day of looking after my monsters, I need a little time to myself. Of course, the only place I can be by myself is in the bathroom. I call it my reading room,” she said with a laugh, and then she sighed. “Honestly, the only time I have to call my own is on the john. Or in the tub. Well, listen to me, running on like that. I’d best be going. Bobby, you stop pulling your brother’s hair! Jeremy, put that bear back on the shelf.” She looked at me and shook her head. “Honestly, all those kids do is fight! It was nice to meet you, Miss McKenna.”

“Kathy, please.”

With a smile, Susie gathered up her books and her brood and left the shop.

I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to seven. Since Raphael was only taking me out for a drink, I had eaten a late lunch. But even if I hadn’t, I was much too nervous to think about food.

I turned off the outside lights, locked the cash drawer, then went into the back room to change my shoes. I didn’t hear the bell over the door ring, but I knew the moment Raphael arrived. I’m not sure how I knew. Women’s intuition, a change in the atmosphere, a sudden internal awareness, I don’t know. I just knew he was there, the same way I had known that he was a Vampire.

I ran a hand over my hair, took a deep breath, and made my way toward the front of the store.

Cordova turned to face me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Lordy, the man was breathtaking! He wore a white shirt open at the throat, black slacks, and boots. His hair gleamed blue-black in the overhead light.

I felt a blush warm my cheeks as his gaze moved over me, the look in his eyes telling me he liked what he saw.

“Good evening, Miss McKenna.”

“You might as well call me Kathy,” I suggested somewhat breathlessly.

“Kathy.”

The sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine, made me think of warm bodies intimately entwined on cool satin sheets. Maybe letting him call me by my given name wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I touched the crucifix at my throat to give me strength.

Raphael observed the gesture with a wry grin. “The belief that crosses scare off Vampires is an old wives’ tale,” he remarked. “In any event, it isn’t the cross that wards off the Vampire, but the wearer’s belief in the power of good over evil.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“And then you have to ask yourself, what if he’s Jewish or Hindu?”

I folded my arms under my breasts. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

He shook his head. “Not really. In any case, if you feel the need to wear one, it should be silver.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Silver burns Vampire flesh, gold does not. Not only that, but silver renders us powerless if we’re bound with it.”

I filed that bit of useful information away for future reference.

“Are you ready to go?” He glanced at the crucifix again. “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I said. “Just give me a minute to lock up.”

He followed me to the door, waited on the sidewalk while I turned off the interior lights and set the alarm.

After I slipped my keys into my handbag, he offered me his arm in a rather courtly gesture and walked me to his car, something sleek and black that looked like it was going a hundred miles an hour even when it was parked at the curb.

He opened the door for me, and I sank into a rich black leather seat that automatically contoured itself to my size and shape. A deep breath carried the rich new-car scent to my nostrils.

My heartbeat kicked up a notch at the thought of being alone in the car with a Vampire. What on earth was I thinking? I had only lived in Oak Hollow a short time, and I didn’t really know anyone. If I never came back, would anybody even notice?

Raphael slid behind the wheel in a sinuous movement, started the car with a touch of his hand, and pulled away from the curb. Late-model cars, like most computers, could be operated by verbal command or manually. I wasn’t surprised that Raphael opted for hands-on control.

I tried to think of something witty to say to break the silence between us, but my mind had gone blank.

Raphael drove with one arm resting on the edge of the open window, his right hand draped negligently over the steering wheel. I felt a shiver of unease as he turned off Main Street and onto the highway.

“Are you new to our fair metropolis?” he asked.

“You could say that. I moved here a little over a month ago.”

“Where did you live before you came here?”

“New York.”

“Ah. Oak Hollow must be quite a change from the big city.”

“Quite,” I agreed with a smile. “So, are you still enjoying Montgomery’s work?”

“Very much. I like his voice, the way he turns a phrase. And the fact that I can’t always figure out who the murderer is by page three.”

“That’s why I like him, too,” I said with a laugh.

I felt a shiver of unease as Raphael pulled off the highway, turned left at the first street corner, and then made a right onto a narrow dirt road. Stately trees lined both sides of the road, their graceful branches intertwining to form a kind of leafy tunnel. There were no streetlights here, no lights at all until he pulled up in front of a large, rectangular building built of shimmering black stone. The name of the place did nothing to ease my anxiety.

The Stygian Way.

Raphael parked the car in a reserved space in the front, then came around to open my door. Offering me his hand, he helped me out of the car.

A tall, slender man dressed in a black suit and tie stood at the club’s entrance. Nodding at Raphael, he opened one of the carved double doors, and I had my first look at The Stygian Way.

I guess surprise sums up my reaction best. I’m not sure what my expectations had been, but the nightclub exceeded them all. Black leather booths lined one wall; small tables covered with pristine white cloths were scattered around the gray and black tiled floor. A crystal vase holding one perfect red rose adorned each table. Dozens of candles filled the room with a soft, warm glow. A long bar made of gold-veined black granite ran the length of the back wall. Glass shelves held an array of sparkling crystal goblets and snifters and stemware.

A young woman wearing a long red dress and a ruffled black apron hurried toward us. “Right this way, my lord,” she said with a slight bow.

My lord,
I thought. Good grief!

Raphael inclined his head in greeting, and we followed the waitress to a booth in the far corner. I sat down and he slid in beside me, making me feel suddenly like a very small rabbit that had stumbled into the den of a very large, hungry wolf.

Raphael ordered a bottle of red wine that I knew sold for as much as sixty dollars a bottle.

I asked for a glass of 7UP with a cherry.

He lifted one dark brow. “You prefer a soft drink to fine wine?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never been much of a drinker.”

“Afraid I’m going to get you intoxicated and take advantage of you?” he asked candidly.

That was so close to the truth that it made me blush with embarrassment.

Raphael laughed softly. It was a remarkably sexy sound, but then, everything about him seemed sexy.

“So,” he said, leaning back, one arm resting along the top of the booth, “how do you like Oak Hollow?”

I shrugged. “It seems like a nice place.” I didn’t tell him I wasn’t sure I was going to stay. Even if the Werewolves and the Vampires didn’t live here year-round, it was disconcerting knowing that any number of them could drop in unexpectedly from time to time. “Where do you live?”

“Here.”

“As in Oak Hollow here?”

He nodded.

“But I thought…I mean, isn’t this neutral territory? I didn’t think any, uh, Supernatural types lived here year-round.”

“Someone has to stay to make sure that everyone follows the rules.”

“Oh, of course. How silly of me. I should have known.” I was babbling, something I did when I was nervous or afraid. Sitting this close to Raphael Cordova, I was both. I had never been out with a man who was so handsome, or so blatantly male. Or one who was something more than a man.

“You needn’t be afraid of me,” he said with a quiet smile. “I mean you no harm.”

There was no hint of fang when he smiled, but his teeth looked strong enough to pierce steel. The skin of my throat would offer no resistance. “So, how long have you been a Vampire?”

“My whole life, I guess.”

“How is that possible?”

“My father is a Vampire; my mother was mortal when I was born.”

I shook my head. Everyone knew that Vampires didn’t age once they were brought across. If he had been brought across when he was an infant, he would still be an infant. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither does anyone else. I was born a Vampire, but it wasn’t evident until I turned thirteen.”

“I thought Vampires didn’t age,” I said, confused. “I mean, you look a lot older than thirteen. Not that you look old,” I added hastily, since he didn’t look a day over thirty, “but you don’t look thirteen.”

“I can’t explain it. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that my mother was mortal. When I reached twenty-five, I stopped aging. Like I said, I can’t explain it. No one can.”

“So, how old are you?”

“Eighty-five.”

It wasn’t a vast age. People were living a lot longer these days. But people who were eighty-five didn’t look like they were twenty-five. Of course, he didn’t look like a Vampire, either. In movies, Vampires were usually portrayed as rail thin and pale, but Raphael was anything but thin and pale. His skin had a nice olive tone, and he looked like a man in his prime, strong and healthy.

He smiled at the waitress when she brought our drinks. I watched him pour a glass of wine, all the while wondering if it was really wine. I had never seen any quite that dark, or that thick. Was it blood, or just my overactive imagination seeing things that weren’t there?

He sipped it, then nodded his approval to the waitress.

“Can I get you anything else, my lord?” she asked.

Raphael looked at me. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something to eat? I’m told our filet mignon is excellent.”

“
Your
filet mignon? Don’t tell me you raised the beef?”

“Not quite,” he said, grinning. “Didn’t I tell you? I own this place.”

I blinked at him. The man was full of surprises.

While I was still assimilating this latest bit of news, he asked the waitress to bring me a filet mignon, medium rare, with all the trimmings.

I waited until the waitress had moved away before asking, “But, if your mother was mortal and your father was a Vampire…how…I mean…” Words failed me. Discussing procreation probably wasn’t considered polite dinner conversation, especially on a first date, but everyone knew the Undead couldn’t create life.

“My father was brought across by an ancient Vampire,” Raphael explained. “He was still new in the life when he met my mother. Apparently, he retained enough of his humanity to sire a child. Two in fact. I have a twin brother, Rane.”

“Is he a Vampire, too?”

Raphael nodded. And then, apparently seeing the unasked question in my eyes, he said, “Until we hit puberty, Rane and I were no different than any other teenage boys, but once we turned thirteen…” He shrugged.

“Did you know it was going to happen? That you’d become Vampires?”

“No. Neither did my parents.”

“It must have come as quite a shock.”

He grunted softly. “You have no idea.”

I tried to imagine how I would feel if I woke up one day and discovered that I was a Vampire. What would it be like, to be human one day and a blood drinker the next? All the Vampires I had ever heard of had been made, not born, and once made, they were no longer alive, but Undead. But if Raphael had been born a Vampire…I frowned. “So, you never died?”

“No. One day I was like any other teenage boy, and the next…” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “The day after I turned thirteen, I didn’t wake up in the morning. Later, I learned that my mother had tried to rouse me, but to no avail. I woke with the setting of the sun, plagued by a thirst that I didn’t understand.”