Everlasting Desire (Everlasting 2)

Vampire. Nosferatu. Undead creature of the night.

The tears came then. Rocking back and forth, she wept for Rhys and for the burgeoning love that had died with him.

Chapter 20

Rhys pressed one hand over the ragged wound in his belly. Though his body had cast off the silver slug, it had burned like fire going in and coming out. Dark red blood dripped through his fingers as he stared at the body of the hunter sprawled facedown on the grass. He didn’t know how the man had found him. Dumb luck, he supposed. Or maybe the hunter had been tracking him, although Rhys thought it unlikely. He might have been preoccupied with Megan the last few weeks, but he hadn’t gone deaf, dumb, and blind.

Until tonight.

It had taken what little strength he had left to veil his presence and that of the hunter from the police officer who’d been snooping around earlier. Rhys had no doubt that Megan had sent the cop. Whether she wanted the officer to help him, or make sure he was dead, was anybody’s guess. One thing he knew for sure, she had been terrified by what she’d seen, but he could hardly blame her for that.

He winced as he explored the wound in his back. This was the second time someone had staked him and missed his heart by inches, he mused. First Daisy, and now this hunter. If he wasn’t careful, his luck was going to run out.

Rhys swore softly as the scent of the hunter’s blood drifted on the breeze. He needed blood to heal the wounds the bastard had inflicted, but drinking from the dead, even the newly dead, was distasteful.

But there was fresh prey nearby. Moving through the shadows, he found a couple of teenaged boys sitting off by themselves, sharing a joint.

They looked up when they saw him, their expressions showing first surprise and then fear as he drew closer. Fear that turned to terror when they realized they couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

Rhys took what he needed, wiped the memory of what had happened from their minds, then slipped into the shadows, enjoying a mild high from the drug in their blood.

He had to see Megan. Even knowing that she would recoil from his presence, he had to see her again. She knew him for what he was now, and the knowledge had horrified her. He had seen the revulsion in her eyes before she fled the scene. Not that he blamed her for taking off. Hadn’t he told her to go? Of course, she was a smart girl, and, considering what she had seen, she likely would have run anyway.

A thought took him to her house, another to her bedside.

She slept with a light on. After what she had been through that night, he wasn’t surprised. For a moment, he could only stand there, thinking how beautiful she was, her red gold hair as soft as silk, her skin the color of rich cream, her lips, pink and perfect and slightly parted.

Curious to know what she dreamed of, he let his mind brush hers.

She was dreaming that they were walking along the beach arm in arm. In her dream, he wasn’t a vampire.

“Megan.”

“Rhys?” Still caught up in her dream, she smiled—until she opened her eyes and saw him standing beside the bed. Suddenly wide awake, she bolted upright, the sheet clutched to her br**sts as if it would protect her, the smile on her face fading, the color draining from her cheeks. “How can you be here? I thought…that man…he shot you. I saw him drive a stake into your back.”

He shrugged. “As you can see, I’m fine.” He clenched his hands at his sides. He could hear her heart beating wildly, taste the fear that tainted her skin. “Dammit, stop looking at me like that!”

His anger stoked her own. “I’m sorry if I’m scared, but what do you expect? It’s not every day I see a man killed in front of me. Almost killed.” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “Whatever! Why didn’t you tell me what you were? What you are.”

“Maybe because I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes.”

Her gaze slid away from his.

“You’ve nothing to fear from me,” he said, his voice gruff. “I only came to make certain you were all right.”

Still not looking at him, she murmured, “I’m sorry I ran away.”

“What the hell do you have to be sorry about? I told you to go.”

“I should have stayed.”

He laughed softly. “And done what?”

She looked up at him then, her gaze meeting his. “What did you do to that man?”

“Just exactly what you think I did.”

“You killed him.” It wasn’t a question. “Did you…?”

“No.”

She looked surprised. “Why not?”

“I prefer it warm.” His gaze moved to the hollow of her throat. “And fresh.”

If possible, her face went even paler.

“I won’t bother you anymore. I just came by to make sure you got home all right. Good-bye, Megan.”

He didn’t wait for her to reply. Calling on his preternatural power, he vanished from her sight.

For a moment, he stood on the sidewalk below her window. She was lost to him now, that was for damn sure. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that it was just as well, and failed miserably. He had never intended to fall in love with her. Perhaps he should have told her the truth, he thought, and then shook his head. Had he done so, he would have just lost her sooner. His one regret was that she had seen him at his worst.

One regret, he thought bleakly. Hell, he had a million of them.

Muttering an oath, he went in search of prey.

Chapter 21

Megan spent Monday morning curled up on the sofa. She felt numb inside, as if her body had lost the ability to feel. She had no appetite, no desire to get dressed. No desire to do anything. Shirl had offered to stay home from work, but Megan had said thanks, but no thanks. All she wanted was to be alone with her grief. Rhys was alive, she thought, and let out a harsh laugh. Not alive, but Undead. Either way, he was lost to her.

She replayed his last visit over and over again, wishing it had ended differently, wishing…what? That she had asked him to stay? That she had told him his being a vampire didn’t matter? If only it didn’t!

She blinked back her tears. How could she have fallen in love with a vampire? Let him kiss her? Make love to her? How could she not have known what he was? Maybe she had. Maybe her initial fear and distrust had been some innate sense of self-preservation, a warning she had refused to heed. But honestly, who knew vampires were real? Sure, in the last few weeks there had been stories on the nightly news that hinted at such things, but no one took such stories seriously. You couldn’t believe everything you heard on the news. Vampires terrorizing New York and Los Angeles? Yeah, right. Who could worry about mythical creatures when there were so many real monsters roaming the streets, gunning down innocent women and children, kidnapping college kids while they were on spring break, raping children.