Night's Pleasure (Children of The Night 4)

Rane howled as pain exploded through his back, as hot as the fires of hell. His vision blurred. Shaking his head, he focused on the Werewolf. If he was going to die, he was taking Clive with him. Gathering his rapidly-waning strength, he lunged at the other man, his body shifting in midair. The force of his momentum drove Clive backward to the ground. The Werewolf landed hard, and Rane landed on top of him, his hands circling the Werewolf’s neck. Clive bucked and kicked, shrieking and howling in fury as his nails raked Rane’s back. It took every ounce of Rane’s remaining strength for him to hang on. He didn’t know what kind of poison had been in the needle, but it burned through his whole body, leeching his strength, blurring his vision, as he slowly squeezed the life and breath out of the Werewolf.

And then, unable to fight it any longer, Rane tumbled into the blackness that beckoned him.

Savanah ran out of the house crying his name. She spared hardly a glance for the dead Werewolf as she sank to her knees beside Rane.

For a moment, she could only stare at him. He couldn’t be dead, she thought. He was already dead, or Undead. He was just unconscious or something. His body was covered with bites and scratches, but none of them looked fatal.

“Rane.” She shook his shoulder gently. “Rane, wake up.” She shook his shoulder again, harder this time. “Rane, wake up! Dammit, this isn’t funny! Wake up! Please!”

He didn’t stir, didn’t seem to be breathing.

She glanced at the sky, a silent prayer rising in her heart. Please, please, please, don’t let him be dead. Please.

The night settled around her, deep and dark and quiet. She needed help, but there was no one here, no one for miles. No one who could help her. She rested her forehead on his chest as that painful reality hit home. There was no one who could help her.

She glanced back at the house. Somehow, she had to get him inside before morning. But how? She couldn’t lift him, not now, when he was deadweight…deadweight. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat, only to emerge in a flood of tears.

She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, sobbing, when she felt a change in the wind. It raised the hair at her nape and along her arms, made her palms sweat and her mouth go dry.

Scrambling to her feet, with a stake in one hand and her gun in the other, Savanah turned in a slow circle, her gaze seeking to penetrate the darkness in the distant corners of the backyard.

Someone, or something, was out there, hiding in the shadows.

Savanah froze, narrowing her eyes as what looked like a shimmer of silver motes moved toward her through the trees. Certain she was imagining things, she rubbed her eyes and when she opened them again, a man was striding toward her, a tall man dressed all in black.

Lifting her gun hand, she aimed the weapon in his direction. “Don’t come any closer.”

He didn’t stop, or even slow down. “I mean you no harm. I’ve come to help.”

“Are you a doctor?” She knew the question was ludicrous even as it passed her lips. Why would a doctor be lurking outside in the shadows just when she needed one?

Before she could decide whether or not to pull the trigger, the stranger was upon her. Plucking the gun from her hand, he slipped it into his coat pocket.

Savanah stared at the stranger, glanced down at Rane, and then looked at the stranger again. She frowned as realization dawned. The man standing in front of her could be no one but…“Rafe?”

He nodded. “At your service.”

“What are you doing here? How did you know…?”

“We’re twins,” Rafe said quietly. “I can feel the pain burning through him.” He glanced at the Werewolf’s body. “The bastard injected Rane with holy water.”

Fear knotted deep in Savanah’s belly. A few drops of holy water on Rane’s face and neck had blistered his skin. What would it do to his insides? “Will it kill him?”

“I can’t say, but it has rendered him helpless, powerless.” He closed his eyes a moment, his jaw clenching. “The pain is excruciating.”

“You can really feel what he’s feeling?”

“Yes.” He let out a long shuddering sigh. “It is beyond description, almost beyond bearing.”

Savanah regarded the Vampire. Though he’d said he was feeling his brother’s pain, he gave little visible sign of it. She wondered if it was due to some deep inner strength, or if he was making an effort to shield his pain from her eyes. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now but Rane. “Can you help him?”

“I hope so.” Kneeling, Rafe lifted his brother into his arms, then nodded toward the house. “After you.”

Moving quickly, Savanah led the way to the back door. She was halfway across the kitchen when she realized that Rafe wasn’t behind her. Of course, he had never been here before. He needed an invitation to enter her home.

Calling, “Come in” over her shoulder, Savanah hurried down the hallway to her father’s room. She turned down the covers on the bed, chewed on her thumbnail as she watched Rafe lower his brother gently onto the mattress.

Blood from the numerous bites and scratches that covered Rane’s body quickly soaked into the sheets. Vampires were supposed to mend quickly, so why wasn’t he? Was it the holy water that kept his wounds from healing, or something else? Something worse?

“You might want to wait outside,” Rafe suggested.

“Why?”

“I’m going to give him my blood and hope that it will counteract the effects of the holy water.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Let us hope that it does,” Rafe said, his expression grim.

“Get on with it then.” Savanah looked at Rane, more worried than she wanted to admit. He looked pale, so pale. She stared at his chest. His breathing seemed shallow and labored. His hands were tightly clenched at his sides; tight lines of pain bracketed his mouth. She yearned to brush the hair from his brow, to wash the blood from his wounds, to kiss his hurts and make them better. “Hurry!”

Rafe glanced at the door and then at Savanah, a silent, none-too-subtle hint that she should take his advice and leave.

Savanah shook her head. “Forget it, I’m staying.”

“As you wish.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rafe removed his jacket and tossed it aside, then rolled up his shirtsleeve. He slid a glance in Savanah’s direction and then, turning his back to her, he bit into a vein in his left wrist.