Night's Touch (17 page)

She ran a hand over her hair, took a deep breath, and turned to face him.

His megawatt smile made her heart skip a beat. "I guess I'm a little early."

"That's all right. Vince, this is my best friend, Sarah Beth. Bethy, this is Vince."

"Pleased to meet you, Sarah Beth," Vince said.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Sarah Beth replied airily. "Now I've got a face to go with the name."

Vince looked at Cara, one brow raised quizzically. "You been talking about me?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, a little."

"Only good things, I hope," he said with a teasing grin.

"Of course." Picking up the microphone on the desk, Cara made the announcement that the library would be closing in ten minutes.

"Run along, you two," Sarah Beth said, making a shooing motion with her hand. "Mary and I can lock up."

"Are you sure?" Cara asked.

"I'm sure," Sarah Beth said emphatically. "Now, go on, get!"

"So," Cara said as they left the library, "what shall we do tonight?"

"I thought you were fixin' to show me your new house."

"I'd like to."

"Then that's what we'll do." He walked her to her car, waited while she unlocked the door. "I'll follow you," he said.

"All right."

He closed her door, then walked to his own car. Di Giorgio pulled out of the lot behind him.

Vince tapped his hand on the steering wheel. Being alone with Cara seemed like a really bad idea, especially after last night. He told himself it couldn't happen again, but he doubted he had the willpower to leave her alone now that he knew what it was like to make love to her, to taste her sweetness. He had thought of little else all day. Time and again his mind had strayed toward last night. Mara might have been the most accomplished lover he had ever known, but she couldn't hold a candle to Cara's sweet innocence. His body had reacted every time he remembered how willingly Cara had given herself to him, how soft and supple her body had been, how her warmth had chased away the perpetual cold that was part of him now. All day, he had wanted nothing more than to make love to her again.

A short time later, she pulled up in front of a two-story house surrounded by a white picket fence. Rose bushes grew on both sides of the yard; flowers bloomed along the red brick walkway that led up to the house. A wicker rocking chair occupied one corner of the porch.

Vince swore softly as he parked his car behind hers. Talk about your vine-covered cottage! All that was missing was a cat sleeping on the rocker.

"What do you think?" Cara asked as he got out of the car.

"Looks nice."

"It is. I love it! Of course, it's not nearly as big or as nice as… never mind."

"That's okay. This place looks more like you than that old mansion."

"Do you really think so?"

He nodded.

She waved to Frank, then took Vince's hand in hers as they went up the walkway to the porch. She unlocked the front door, then waited for him to precede her.

"After you," he said.

Cara stepped inside, then glanced over her shoulder, frowning when she saw he was still standing out on the porch. "Aren't you coming in?"

"My mama always taught me to wait to be invited."

If Cordova comes to call, he can't enter unless you invite him inside
. Her father's words rose in the back of her mind, but she dismissed them out of hand. She had seen Vince during the day, she had talked to him on the phone when the sun was high in the sky. He couldn't be a vampire. It had just been her father's way of trying to break them up.

"Okay," she said, flicking on the light switch, "you're invited. Come on in."

Vince crossed the threshold, his skin tingling as he did so. He wondered what it was about thresholds that had the power to repel him. If he ever saw Cara's father again, maybe he would ask him. Come to think of it, he still had a lot of unanswered questions about his new lifestyle.

"So, what do you think?" Cara asked as he looked around. "Most of the furniture came with the house. I really like the sofa, but I'm not sure I like the end tables or the…"

"It's real nice, darlin'," he said, and it was.

The walls were off-white, the floor was hardwood. A blue and white flowered sofa and matching love seat were arranged on opposite sides of a glass-topped coffee table. The end tables were a dark red oak, the lamps were wrought iron. An entertainment center took up most of one wall.

"Come on," she said, taking him by the hand, "I'll give you a tour."

He followed her into the kitchen, which was a sort of sage green with stainless steel appliances. A small round table held a vase of fresh flowers. In addition to the living room and kitchen, there was also a small guestroom, a bathroom, and a large linen closet on the first floor.

He followed Cara upstairs. There were two bedrooms here, each with their own bathroom. One bedroom was yellow; the other, larger room was a pale blue. She had taken the blue bedroom for herself.

Vince glanced at the bed. The spread was white. Several pillows in various shades of blue were scattered near the headboard. He swore softly as his mind immediately conjured an image of the two of them snuggling under the covers, their arms and legs intimately entwined.

He blew out a breath, banishing the images from his mind.

"I still need to buy a few things," Cara remarked.

"It's a nice place," Vince said. "It suits you."

"Thanks." She smiled, pleased. It was important to her that he liked the place, though she wasn't sure why. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? A cold drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

Still holding his hand, she led him back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. He dropped down beside her, every fiber of his being attuned to her presence—the scent of her hair and skin, the steady beat of her heart, the rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her thigh brushing against his own. His body grew hard. His fangs ached.

He swore under his breath, quietly cursing himself for his lack of restraint last night, and for the hunger raging through him now. He had fed earlier and, for the first time, he had found little satisfaction in it. Having tasted Cara's sweetness, he was afraid he would never be satisfied with anything else.

"Do you want to watch some TV?" she asked.

He didn't miss the tremor in her voice. Was she as nervous as he was? Did her body ache for his touch the way his ached for hers? He should tell her the truth tonight. It was the right thing to do, but he couldn't bear to lose her, not now.

"Vince?"

"Sure, darlin', whatever you want to do is fine with me."

Picking up the remote, she turned on the TV, then turned it off again. "I'd rather talk, if that's all right with you."

"Something on your mind?"

"You," she replied candidly. "I really don't know very much about you."

He shrugged. "There isn't a whole hell of a lot to know."

"Tell me about your family. Are you close? Do you see them often?"

"Not as often as I'd like. I think I told you I've got three brothers and a sister."

"And a cat."

"Right."

"Are you the oldest? The youngest?"

"I'm the youngest son. My oldest brother, Ray, is a cop. He's married to an accountant and they've got three kids. My brother Frank is a fireman. He got married two years ago. Baby on the way. Joe is a paramedic. He's got four kids and another due any time now. My sister, Eve, got married last year. She's two years younger than I am."

"Are your parents still alive?"

"Yeah. My old man was a mechanic. My mother's a stay-at-home mom, although she's been talking about going to work since my dad retired," Vince said, grinning. "She said she understands now why so many older women go to work. She complains a lot about him being underfoot all day, but she doesn't mean it."

"It sounds like you have a wonderful family," Cara said wistfully. "I wish I had brothers and sisters."

"There were times when I wished I didn't," Vince remarked. Times like now, when he no longer fit into the family. "Have you talked to your folks lately?"

"No. I don't know what to say." She blinked back the hot tears that threatened to fall. "I'm not sure how I feel about them anymore. Why didn't they tell me the truth?"

"Probably because they were afraid you'd react just the way you did."

"They should have told me years ago."

"Would that have made it any easier to believe?"

"I don't know," she said miserably. "Maybe if they'd told me when I was a child, it would have been easier to accept." She shook her head. "Maybe not."

"They were probably afraid you'd tell someone when you were younger," Vince suggested. "It might have been a hard secret to keep."

"I guess so." She tried to imagine how she would have reacted if she had found out when she was eight or nine or fifteen. Would she even have believed it? As for keeping such a thing a secret, until she went to school, she'd had no one to tell.

"They've been good to you, Cara. They raised you the best they could. It's obvious that they love you. I think you're being too hard on them."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Maybe."

"They're the only parents you've got," Vince said quietly. "You might want to remember that."

A tear slipped down her cheek. He was right, she thought. Vampires or not, they were the only family she had.

Serafina stood by the table in Anthony's lab. She felt like shouting and wished Anton was there to share in her victory.

Bringing the dead back to life had sounded easy when she read the incantation in the book, but she had expected the actual execution of the spell to be far more complicated than it appeared on paper. With that in mind, she had found a spell for bringing animals back to life. She had practiced on a cat, a dog, a monkey, a sheep, a goat, and, lastly, a small ape she had stolen from a kid's petting zoo.

Restoring life to the dead had given her the most amazing sense of omnipotence, and reaffirmed her own powers, as well.

She could do this. She could bring her beloved back to life.

Anton walked through the house, wondering where his mother had gone. She had been away from home and the bookstore more and more of late. When he asked where she was spending her time, she just smiled and said she would tell him when the time was right He wondered if she was having an affair. He wondered what she would say when he told her that he'd struck out with Cara. Not that he cared. True, her rejection had stung his pride, but that was all. He'd never wanted to date her in the first place. She was too blond and far too innocent for his taste. He preferred women with dark hair and dusky skin, women who knew the score and were willing to play the game according to his rules. As for his mother's plans for revenge, well, he'd worry about that when the time came.

After grabbing a beer from the fridge, he went down to the basement. Lately, he had become more and more fascinated with his father's journals and diaries. His father had made a note of the date he had met Brenna Flanagan, and of the subsequent times he had met her either at Myra's bookshop or at The Nocturne. The name Roshan DeLongpre was also mentioned, as was a young vampire named Jimmy Dugan. His father had used Dugan's blood in some of his experiments. All experiments with Dugan's blood had failed.