Desire the Night

“Try what?”

He sat up, one brow arched in wry amusement. “It isn’t safe to attack a vampire at rest,” he said. “Most of us are able to sense danger and rouse long enough to defend ourselves.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She sat cross-legged on the floor, facing him. And then she frowned. “Why don’t you wake up when the witch takes your blood?”

He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I would, if she intended to kill me.” He leaned forward, nostrils twitching. “You smell like meat.”

“The witch sent me a sandwich earlier.”

Gideon regarded her a moment before asking, “What was your life like, before this?”

“Pretty ordinary, actually, except for the werewolf thing. I went to work during the week, relaxed on the weekends. I hung out with my best friend, Wanda.” She shrugged. “Nothing special.”

“Is Wanda a werewolf, too?”

“No.”

“Does she know what you are?”

Kay shook her head. She had shared a lot of things with Wanda, but telling her best friend she turned into a wolf once a month hadn’t been one of them.

“I thought werewolves were pack animals.”

“We are, but I wanted to live on my own for a year, and after a lot of arguments with my father, he finally agreed. What about you? What did you do before”—she waved a hand, indicating the cell—“this?”

“Whatever the hell I wanted.” He tugged against the chains that bound his ankles, cussing mightily as the silver burned deeper into his skin. “Dammit!” he snarled.

Kay recoiled as his lips peeled back, revealing his fangs.

The anger drained out of him as quickly as it had risen and he slumped back against the wall, his jaw clenched against the fresh wave of pain caused by tugging against his shackles.

Kay wrapped her arms around her waist as her stomach growled loudly. One sandwich and a can of soda was hardly enough to make up for all the meals she had missed. She looked up, meeting Gideon’s gaze.

“I can ease your pain, if you want.”

“You mean by giving me more of your blood?”

He shrugged. “I’d rather give it to you than have Verah take it.”

Kay bit down on her lower lip, thinking about his offer. She knew he had hypnotized her into drinking from him before, but she had no memory of it. Still, she grimaced at the idea.

“I can make you think it’s hot chocolate with whipped cream on top.”

“Is that how you made me drink it the last time?”

He nodded.

And still she hesitated.

“You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow night,” Gideon reminded her.

He was right, darn it. The way she felt now, she couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag, let alone break down a door made of iron bars.

Gathering her courage, she scooted to Gideon’s side.

Gideon took a deep breath as Kay’s nearness slammed into him. His fangs lengthened in response to her fear. The scent of her blood called to his hunger. It took all of his considerable willpower to keep from sinking his fangs into her soft flesh. Instead, he spoke to her mind, bending her will to his, implanting the suggestion that she was drinking a cup of her favorite hot chocolate as he bit into his wrist, then held it to her lips.

When he released his hold on her mind, she looked up at him, her gaze slightly unfocused. And then she tilted her head to the side. “Turnabout is fair play.”

“Not much point in giving you my blood if I take it back.”

“You’ll need your strength, too.”

He considered it a moment, then drew her into his arms and gently brushed a lock of hair away from her neck. Keeping a tight rein on his self-control, he said, “I only need a little.”

Hands clenched, heart pounding with trepidation, Kay again tilted her head to the side, granting him access to her throat. What if he didn’t—couldn’t—stop? Well, she thought fatalistically, one way or another, she would soon be out of this place.

“Relax,” he murmured.

“Easier said than done,” she muttered, and closed her eyes as he bent his head to her neck.

Later, when she lay asleep in his arms, Gideon stared into the darkness, his fingertips absently stroking her cheek as he imagined what it would be like to share a cell with a werewolf.

In all his long life, he had never encountered one. He had heard of them, of course—who hadn’t? They were usually depicted as ravening monsters who couldn’t control themselves and killed indiscriminately when the moon was full. Occasionally, they were depicted as social creatures, loyal to their pack, able to change at will and live ordinary lives.

Kay, it seemed, fell somewhere in between the two. She had no control over the change but she apparently lived an otherwise normal life save for those nights when the moon was full.

And it would be full tomorrow night.

Kay woke with a start. Sitting up, she stretched her arms over her head. A glance to her right showed Gideon was asleep. So, the sun was still up. Although she had no idea how long it was before the moon’s rising, she could feel the anxiety growing within her as her body anticipated the change. Had she been home, she would have called her boss and told him she was taking a sick day—something he allowed his employees to do from time to time—then she would have packed a bag and driven up into the Black Hills.

Closing her eyes, she visualized the Hills—an isolated mountain range that ran from South Dakota to Wyoming, a place of towering pines and craggy bluffs and clear, crystal streams and lakes. The Hills were a werewolf’s paradise, inhabited as they were by a wide variety of prey—buffalo, mountain goats, bighorn sheep, elk, and white-tailed deer. An added plus were the miles of wide-open spaces where she could run to her heart’s content.

Filled with nervous tension, she began to pace the floor. Pausing briefly, she picked up the bottle of water that had been left for her sometime during the day. After rinsing away the bad taste in her mouth, she drained the bottle, then resumed pacing, back and forth across the narrow space.

Gideon hovered on the brink of awareness. Though only half awake, he felt the vibration of Kay’s footsteps as she restlessly paced the floor, smelled her growing apprehension as the sun slipped over the horizon. Only hours left until the moon took command of the sky.

Between one thought and the next, he was wide-awake and alert. Jackknifing into a sitting position, he tilted his head back and sniffed the air.