Night's Touch (46 page)

"I couldn't let anything happen to my godsons, now could I?"

"No," Vince said, remembering how she had tasted the blood of his sons so she would know where and how they were. "I guess not."

"I brought you a present," she said. "I left it in the back yard. You might want to dispose of it before anyone sees it."

Roshan stepped forward and bowed over Mara's hand. "If there's ever anything we can do for you…"

Mara dismissed his thanks with a wave of her hand. "Just take good care of my boys," she said, her gaze lingering on Vince's face. "All of them."

Gliding across the room, she kissed each baby in turn, and then she smiled at Vince. "I'll be around," she said, and vanished from sight.

Cara looked at Vince. "How did she know we were in trouble?"

"I'll explain it to you later," he promised.

"Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry about your house," Cara said. "You can stay with us while you rebuild."

"I don't think we will rebuild," her father said. "We've stayed here too long as it is. We should have moved a long time ago."

"Move?" Cara exclaimed. "You're going to move?"

"Not far," Roshan assured her. "Just to the next town, where no one knows us."

"But what about this house?"

"We'll tear it down and sell the land."

Cara shook her head. "But where will you spend the day tomorrow?"

"Don't worry about us," Brenna said with a wink. "We'll find a place. Here, take Rane."

Cara took Rane from her mother and Vince took Raphael from Roshan. "But…" Cara shook her head. Everything was happening so fast!

"Ready, love?" Roshan asked, taking Brenna by the hand.

"Ready." Brenna smiled at her daughter. "Don't worry about us," she repeated. "We'll see you tomorrow night."

Cara nodded as she watched her parents dissolve into mist and drift away. There were some things she didn't think she would ever get used to.

"I still don't understand how Mara knew we were in trouble," Cara remarked.

"Like I said, I'll explain it all to you later," Vince said. "But for now, let's go home."

Two years later

Cara sat in front of the fireplace, watching her sons roll around on the floor like two feisty puppies. Much had happened since the night of the fire. Vince had disposed of Anton's body. The insurance company had been reluctant to pay her parents' claim since they could find no cause for the fire but, in the end, they had come through.

Her father had razed what was left of the house and her parents had moved in with her and Vince until they had found a new home.

She often found herself watching her boys, looking for signs that they had inherited a lust for blood from their father, but as near as she could tell, they were just normal kids. She held her breath each time she took them to the doctor, fearing their pediatrician would find something wrong, but thus far, he had found nothing out of the ordinary.

Now, watching her sons play, she found herself yearning for another baby. Because they didn't know if she could get pregnant again or not, they had been using a contraceptive.

But not tonight
, she thought.

She put the boys to bed early, showered, and shaved her legs.

When Vince came home from work, she met him at the door wearing a smile and a whisper of black silk.

He whistled softly, then swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs where he fulfilled her every desire.

Here's an excerpt from

Amanda Ashley's next novel,

HIS DARK EMBRACE,

available from Zebra Books in February 2008.

Shannah had followed him every night for the last four months. At first, she hadn't been sure why, other than the fact that she was dying and out of a job and had nothing better to do.

She remembered the first time she had seen him. She had been sitting by the back window in the Potpourri Cafe across the street from the town's only movie theater. She had been sipping a cup of hot chocolate when she had seen him emerge from the theater. It had been in October, near Halloween, and the theater had been running classic vampire movies all month, showing a different movie each night of the week. The old Bela Lugosi version of
Dracula
had been playing that night.

The stranger had been wearing a long black duster over snug black jeans and a black T-shirt. With his long black hair, her first thought was that he could have been a vampire himself except that his skin was a dusky brown instead of deathly pale. A wannabe vampire, obviously. She knew there was a whole cult of them in the city, men and women who frequented Goth clubs. They wore black clothes and capes. Some of them wore fake fangs and pretended to drink blood. She had heard of some who didn't pretend, but actually drank blood. Others role-played on the Internet in vampire and Goth chat rooms.

Shannah had been sitting by the window in that same cafe when she saw the stranger the second time. He hadn't been coming out of the movie theater that night, merely strolling down the street, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, which were black again. During the next few weeks, she saw him walking down the same street at about the same time almost every night, which she supposed wasn't really all that strange. After all, she went to the same cafe and sat at the same booth in the back at about the same time every night.

One evening, simply for something to do, she left the cafe and followed him, curious to see where he went. She followed him the next night, and the next. And suddenly it was a habit, a way to spend the long, lonely nights when she couldn't sleep. Sometimes he merely walked through the park across from City Hall. Sometimes he sat on one of the benches, as unmoving and silent as the bronze statue of the town's founding father that was located near the center of the park.

While following the man in the long black duster, she learned that he went to the movies every Wednesday evening and always sat in the last row. He wandered through the mall on Friday nights. He spent Saturday nights in the local pub, invariably sitting in the shadows in the far corner. He always ordered a glass of red wine, which he never finished. Other than the wine, she never saw him eat or drink anything. He never bought popcorn or candy at the movies. He never bought a soda or a cup of coffee or a hot dog in the mall.

When she followed him home, she learned that he lived in an old but elegant two-story house at the edge of town. The house had bars on the windows and a security screen door, and was surrounded by a block wall that must have been twelve feet high, complete with an impressive wrought iron gate. She wondered what he was hiding in there and spent untold hours pondering who and what he might be. A drug lord? An arms dealer? Some sort of international spy? A reclusive millionaire? A serial killer? A mad scientist? A terrorist? Her imagination knew no bounds.

The holidays came and went He didn't go to visit family for Thanksgiving, and no one came to visit him. As far as she could see, he didn't celebrate Christmas. No tinsel-laden tree appeared in the large front window. No colorful lights adorned his house. He didn't go out to celebrate the new year. But then, neither did she. As far as she knew, he didn't buy flowers or candy on Valentine's Day, nor did he go to visit a lady friend. He was a handsome man—tall, dark, and handsome—which begged the questions, why wasn't he married, or at least dating? Perhaps he was in mourning. Perhaps that was why he always wore black. Then again, maybe he wore it because it looked so good on him.

She camped out in the woods across from his house three or four times a week, weather permitting, but she never saw him emerge during the day. He took a daily newspaper, but he never picked it up until after the sun went down. The same with his mail. He never had any visitors. He never had pizza delivered. No repairmen ever came to call.

She wasn't sure when she started to think he really was some kind of vampire, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. He only came out at night. He lived alone. He didn't eat. He always wore black. He never had any visitors. She never saw him with anyone else because…

He was a vampire.

Vampires lived forever and were supposed to be able to pass immortality on to others.

Ergo, he was the only one who could help her.

All she needed now was the courage to approach him. But how? And when? And what would she say?

It was the first of March when she finally worked up enough courage to put intention into action. Tomorrow night, she decided resolutely. She would ask him tomorrow night.

But, just in case he refused her or she changed her mind at the last minute, she armed herself with a small bottle of holy water stolen from the Catholic Church on the corner of Main Street, wondering, briefly, if stolen holy water would retain its effectiveness. She found a small gold crucifix and chain that had belonged to her favorite aunt. She fashioned a wooden stake out of the handle of an old broom. She filled the pockets of her coat and jeans with cloves of garlic.

That should do it
, she thought, patting her coat pocket. If he was agreeable, by this time tomorrow night she would be Undead. If he decided to make a meal of her instead of transforming her, she would just be dead a few weeks earlier than the doctors had predicted.

If you loved this book, then you won't want to miss any of her other fabulous vampire stories from Zebra Books!

Following is a sneak peak…

DEAD SEXY

The city is in a panic. In the still of the night, a viscous killer is leaving a trail of mutilated bodies drained of blood.

A chilling M.O. that puts ex-vampire hunter Reagan Delaney on the case, her gun clip packed with silver bullets, her instincts edgy.

But the victims are both human and Undead, and the clues are as confusing as the vampire who may her best ally—she hopes…

They called it You Bet Your Life Park, because that's what you were doing if you lingered inside the park after sundown, betting your life that you'd get out again. It had been a nice quiet neighborhood once upon a time, and it still was, during the day. Modern, high-rise condos enclosed the park on three sides. Visitors to the city often remarked on the fact that most of the buildings didn't have any windows. A large outdoor pool was located in the middle of the park. The local kids went swimming there in the summertime. There was also a pizza parlor, a video game arcade, and a couple of small stores that sold groceries, ice, and gas to those who had need of such things.

Large signs were posted at regular intervals throughout the park warning visitors to vacate the premises well before sunset. Smart people paid attention to the signs. Dumb ones were rarely heard from again, because the condos and apartments that encompassed You Bet Your Life Park were a sanctuary for the Undead. A supernaturally charged force field surrounded the outer perimeter of the apartment complex and the park, thereby preventing the vampires from leaving the area and wandering through the city.

Regan Delaney didn't have any idea how the force field worked or what it was made of. All she knew was that it kept the vamps inside but had no negative effect on humans. It was against the law to destroy vampires these days, unless you found one outside the park, but the force field made that impossible. Any vampire who wished to leave the park and move to a protected area in another part of the country had to apply for a permit and be transported, by day, by a company equipped to handle that kind of thing. What Regan found the hardest to accept was that vampires were now considered an endangered species, like tigers, elephants, and marine turtles, and as such, they had to be protected from human predators. The very thought was ludicrous!

It hadn't always been so, of course. In her grandfather's day, vampires had been looked upon as vermin, the scum of the earth. Bounties had been placed on them and they had been hunted ruthlessly. Many of the known vampires had been destroyed. Then, about five years ago, the bleeding hearts had started crying about how sad it was to kill all those poor misunderstood creatures of the night. After all, the bleeding hearts argued, even vampires had rights. Besides, they were also human beings and deserved to be treated with respect. To Regan's astonishment, sympathy for the vampires had grown and vampires had been given immunity, of a sort, and put into protective custody in places like You Bet Your Life Park. And since the Undead could no longer hunt in the city, the law had decided to put the vampires to good use. For a brief period of time, criminals sentenced to death had been given to the vampires.