Moving closer to the bed, Savanah saw Rane’s nostrils twitch as the coppery scent of blood wafted through the air.
Lifting his brother’s head, Rafe held his wrist to Rane’s lips. “Drink, Rane.”
She watched in horrified fascination as Rane’s mouth closed over the bleeding wound.
She didn’t know how much time passed. It might have been a minute, it might have been an hour. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the two men on the bed. How had their parents ever told them apart? They appeared to be identical in every way.
After a time, Rafe drew his wrist away.
Savanah watched as he licked the wound, which healed instantly. And then she looked at Rane. As far as she could see, nothing had changed. His wounds, still oozing blood, looked raw and angry.
Moving up beside Rafe, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Did it work?”
“No.” Rising, he stared down at his brother. “We need Mara.”
“Then get her.”
“If I know Mara, she is already on her way.”
“But…how will she know to come here, that Rane needs her?”
“She’s our godmother. When we were born, she took blood from each of us so that she would always know where we were. She’ll know what has happened.” He looked at Savanah and smiled. “As you surmised, I am Rane’s brother, Raphael.”
“Savanah Gentry.”
“Gentry?” He shook his head. “No, it can’t be.”
“Excuse me?”
“There was a rather notorious hunter named Barbara Gentry a couple of decades ago.”
“She was my mother.”
Rafe’s gaze moved to his brother before settling on Savanah’s face again. “Forgive my impudence, but exactly what is your relationship to my brother?”
Savanah lifted her chin. “I love him.”
“I see. And he loves you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
“Yes.”
Rafe nodded, his lips curving in wry amusement. “My folks will never believe this.”
Savanah felt suddenly light-headed. “Are they coming, too?” One Vampire, fine. His brother, okay. Add to that Rane’s parents and a Vampire rumored to be thousands of years old, and Savanah thought it might be time to crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after her.
“Rane said he hasn’t been in touch with any of you in years. How did you know where to find him?”
“We are more than brothers, more than twins. There is a blood link between us. While Rane was conscious and in control, he blocked it. But tonight…” Rafe looked at his brother. “Tonight I felt his pain, and I followed it. Why don’t you sit with him while I go dispose of the bodies?”
Relieved to be spared the gruesome task, Savanah sat on the edge of the bed and took Rane’s hand in hers. His skin felt cool and dry. What if nothing could be done to save him? What if even the infamous Mara couldn’t help?
“Fight, Rane,” she murmured. “You’ve got to be strong.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. Would her blood help?
Savanah was debating whether to suggest it to Rafe when there was a change in the atmosphere. Her skin prickled, the hair raised along the back of her neck. Before she had time to be afraid, a woman appeared beside the bed.
It was Mara. Savanah knew it without being told. And then she frowned. How was it possible for the Vampire to enter the house without an invitation?
The woman didn’t spare a glance for Savanah. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she drew Rane into her arms. Lifting her sweater, she made a slit in her left breast with her thumbnail, then pressed Rane’s head to her bosom.
She didn’t have to tell him to drink.
Savanah stared at the scene before her. It was like something out of a horror movie, one Vampire feeding off another. She couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t take her eyes from Mara. Clad in a pair of skintight white pants and a black vee-necked sweater, Mara was the most beautiful creature Savanah had ever seen. Her hair fell down her slender back like a fall of black silk, long and thick. Her eyes were green, though green seemed too pale a word to describe them; her skin was pale and flawless; her lips pink and perfectly shaped.
A wave of jealousy rose up in Savanah’s heart as she watched Rane suckle at the other woman’s breast. It should have been her blood that nourished him, Savanah thought. She was the one who loved him, but apparently her mortal blood wasn’t good enough.
After what seemed like forever, Mara drew back. She kissed Rane on the forehead, then eased him down on the bed again and drew the covers over him. Only after rearranging her clothing did she acknowledge that there was anyone else in the room.
Rising, she turned her amazing green eyes on Savanah. “So,” she said, “you must be the princess.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“’Tis nothing,” Mara said with a wave of her hand.
“Is Rane going to be all right?” Savanah asked.
“Of course. He’s Nosferatu. He will rise in a few days.” Mara laid her hand on Rane’s brow, her own brow furrowed. “Holy water is like poison to us, but I had hoped…” She gave a toss of her head.
“Hoped what?” Rafe asked, stepping into the bedroom.
“That my blood would speed the healing process.”
“But he will get better, won’t he?” Savanah asked anxiously. In spite of their assurances, she wasn’t reassured at all.
“In time. And now,” Mara said, focusing her attention on Savanah once more, “tell me about you. Are you in love with him?”
“Yes.”
“And he loves you?”
Savanah frowned, wondering if every Vampire she met was going to ask her the same questions. “Yes.”
“And it doesn’t matter to you what he is?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Yes,” Mara said thoughtfully, “I can see where there might be problems, what with Rane being a Vampire and you being a hunter. Have you destroyed any of us yet?”
It was in Savanah’s mind to lie, but one look into Mara’s eyes and she knew it would be a waste of breath. Lifting her chin, she said, “Yes, I have.”
“Clive’s whore,” Mara said, as if she had known the answer all along. “Good riddance. Had you not destroyed the little traitor, I would have done it myself.”
Savanah glanced at Rane. Why were they talking about the dead Vampire when Rane wasn’t healing the way he should be?