“Probably not, but I’m not leaving her alone again. If Villagrande finds us, he’ll have to go through me to get to her.”
“Looks like he already did that once,” Erik remarked with a wry grin. “Are you planning to give him a second chance?”
Rhys glared at Delacourt.
Daisy placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “I’m not sure you’re helping.” She looked at Rhys. “You don’t think Villagrande will come here, do you?”
“I hope not.”
“Well, if he does, it’ll be three against one. Four, when Alex gets home.”
“Is he still spending my money?” Rhys had paid Alex O’Donnell two hundred thousand dollars for his help in locating Mariah. He had learned later that Alex had split the money with Daisy.
“Just as fast as he can,” Daisy said with a grin. “Or he was. He’ll he home from his honeymoon tomorrow night.”
“He got married?”
“Last month. They’ve been touring Spain but they’ll be home soon. I’ll have Megan’s bed made up in two shakes.”
A short time later, Rhys carried Megan up the stairs. He waved Daisy away when she offered to help get Megan into bed. “Thanks, but I can do it.”
Megan muttered something incoherent as Rhys eased her out of her bathrobe, noticing for the first time that it was stained with blood. Not all of it was his. He could smell Villagrande on her. “What’d you say?”
“I need a shower. I feel dirty.”
He nodded. If she hadn’t suggested it, he would have. The sooner they washed Villagrande’s stink off of her, the better. “Wait here, I’ll turn the water on.”
Grunting softly, he went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Standing there, waiting for the water to get hot, he tried to understand how she must feel, but couldn’t. He had killed when necessary and never lost any sleep over it. He knew he had a reputation for being a hard-ass, and sometimes he was, although since Megan had entered his life, he seemed to have lost a little of his edge.
“Nothing like the love of a good woman,” he muttered as he tested the water.
When it was warm enough, he walked Megan to the shower, closed the door after her, then turned his back, giving her some privacy. He probably should have left the room, but he wasn’t leaving her alone as long as Villagrande was a threat.
It took him a minute to realize she was standing under the spray, crying. Well, who could blame her? She’d been through hell tonight.
Undressing, he opened the shower door, stepped inside, and gathered her into his arms. He held her until the water started to cool, then took the soap and scrubbed her from head to foot. When he was done, he turned off the water, then wrapped her in a towel and carried her into the bedroom.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Nothing for you to be sorry for.” He cursed his body’s instant reaction to hers as he dried her off. It was all he could do to keep from seducing her. Like the lust for blood, battle often aroused his baser instincts. Reining in his desire, he slipped the nightgown Daisy had provided over Megan’s head, then tucked her into bed.
“You could have been killed,” she murmured.
“Get some sleep, darlin’.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“You need the rest.”
“You won’t leave me?”
“No.” He wiped a lock of damp hair from her brow. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
She looked doubtful, but obediently closed her eyes.
In minutes, the slow, steady beat of her heart told him she was asleep.
He switched off the bedside light, then sat beside her, staring into the darkness. Dawn was only a few hours away.
He was leaning against the headboard, his eyes closed, when Megan bolted upright. “Rhys! Rhys!”
“I’m here.”
She stared at him, her eyes wild, then slumped back on the pillow. “I was having a nightmare.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Shirl’s really dead, isn’t she?”
Rhys nodded. Guilt was an emotion he rarely suffered, but it flayed him now. Because of him, Megan had killed her best friend. “I’m sorry.” He blew out a breath. “Are you all right?”
“I will be. I couldn’t let her destroy you, and…” Her fingers worried the edge of the blanket. “It wasn’t really Shirl that I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word killed out loud. “Villagrande twisted her thinking somehow. Or maybe it was just what you said before, that being a vampire brings out the best or the worst in people. I guess in her case it brought out the worst. And being with Villagrande didn’t help.”
“You should hate me.”
Her eyes widened. “Why? It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I’m the one who asked you to turn her. Or maybe it was Shirl’s fault. She begged me to ask you. None of us knew it would end like this.”
“I put too much faith in Erik’s magick,” Rhys muttered. “I never should have left you alone.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Erik’s magick worked just fine.”
“Then how…?” Rhys looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t invite Villagrande inside.”
“Of course not!” Megan said, scowling at him. “Shirl tricked me. She came to the house, all bloody and pale, and told me Villagrande had beat her up—”
“And she invited him in,” Rhys finished for her. He brushed a lock of hair from her brow. “It’s over now.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he drew the covers over Megan, then kissed her cheek. She was too good for him by half, her heart too pure, too forgiving.
“Stay with me and keep the nightmares away?” she asked sleepily.
Nodding, he took her hand in his, his heart aching with tenderness. Foolish girl, didn’t she know he was the biggest nightmare in her life?
He sat beside her, watching as sleep claimed her again. He had come close to losing her tonight. Too damn close.
In spite of the fact that she was human and he wasn’t, he had hoped they could have a life together. He should have known better. Relationships between vampires and mortals never ended well. Every minute he spent with Megan put her life in danger. Even if he managed to destroy Villagrande, which seemed doubtful, he had other enemies who wouldn’t hesitate to use her to get to him.
If he had never turned Shirl, Megan’s life might not be in danger now. But Megan had found the courage to destroy Shirl and save his life, and Villagrande wasn’t one to forgive and forget.