Dead Sexy

Santiago pulled up in front of the dilapidated building ten minutes later. He parked the Speedster at the curb, then came around to open the door for her. Glancing around, she wondered why he didn't find a new lair, maybe in a nicer neighborhood where the surroundings weren't so run down. Most of the surrounding buildings had fallen into the same state of neglect and disrepair as the one he occupied.

She kept glancing over her shoulder as she followed him down the stairs to his lair. The building, with its broken windows and musty smell, gave her the creeps.

He opened the door for her and she preceded him inside. His apartment in the park was just a set of rooms, but this place, this was where he lived. His power washed over her as she stepped across the threshold. Why hadn't she felt it before? Even as she pondered the question, she knew the answer. She hadn't been a werewolf before. She hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, had tried to pretend it wasn't true, but her senses were sharper now. She had noticed the difference as soon as they entered the city.

"I'm like Vasile now," she murmured, thinking aloud. "Maybe he won't want to kill me anymore."

Santiago regarded her through narrowed eyes. "You may be right." He dropped the bag he was carrying beside the sofa. "It is against pack law for one werewolf to kill another. The penalty is death."

At last, Regan thought, a ray of hope. Vasile had intended to kill her to get even with Santiago, but now… She frowned. Would he defy the laws of his kind to exact his revenge? Or had he inadvertently given her back her life?

Regan sat down. "How do the werewolves live?"

Santiago sat down beside her, one arm draped across the back of the sofa. "What do you mean, how do they live?"

"Do they live like normal people when they aren't, you know, ravaging the countryside?"

"Ah. Yes. It is easier for them now that they are not as numerous as they once were."

"Are they… do they… ?"

"What?"

"Do they get married, have children?"

"Of the dozen or so that are rumored to be under Vasile's protection, six are mated pairs."

"Mated pairs? Does that mean they're married or just… mated?"

"They are married and live ordinary lives, at least for the most part, except when the moon is full."

"Are the married ones all werewolves?"

"Two of the couples are. The third couple is mixed, werewolf and human."

"Can they have children?"

Santiago nodded, his gaze intent upon her face.

"What kind of children do they have?"

He laughed softly. "The usual kind."

"And Vasile?"

"He has never married, nor had children, that I know of." He leaned toward her, his gaze caressing her. "It is important to you, having children?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Why?" She rose from the sofa and began to pace the floor. "Why? Because I'm a woman, that's why. Because I love children. Because I've always wanted to get married and have a large family."

Santiago sat back, his expression shuttered. "Hunting vampires and raising a family do not seem to be compatible."

"No, I guess not." She blew out a sigh. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed."

Rising, Santiago drew her into his embrace. "I love you, Regan. I wish I could give you the life you want."

"So do I." Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. "Good night, Joaquin."

Blinking back her tears, she picked up her bag, went into the bedroom, and closed the door. She had thought her life was complicated before she met Santiago. Now, she wished she could go back to those relatively quiet days, when all she had to worry about was finding a new job.

Opening her bag, she pulled out her toothpaste, toothbrush, and nightgown and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her nightgown, and slid into bed. The satin sheets were cool beneath her. The pillow was redolent with Santiago's scent.

He loved her. The thought made her heart ache. In all his long life, he had loved only one other woman. And now he was in love with her. He had told her so on several occasions, asking nothing in return. Maybe he just needed to say the words.

She wiped her tears on a corner of the sheet. And she loved him. It would be so easy to succumb to him, to give in to the yearnings of her own heart, but she knew it would only lead to heartache.

Right now, she didn't have time for any kind of relationship. If she wanted to reclaim her humanity, she had to find Vasile and destroy him. It sounded so easy, yet she knew it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to accomplish. She wondered if werewolves grew stronger with age, the way vampires did. She would have to remember to ask Santiago.

The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than there was a knock on the door. It could only be him. Her heart did a funny little quickstep as, sitting up, she bid him enter.

He loomed larger than life in the doorway. He had changed into a pair of black sweatpants and a black T-shirt. His feet were bare. Her mouth went dry as her gaze moved over his broad chest and muscular arms. She had a sudden urge to go to him, to run her fingers through his hair, to rain kisses over his cheeks, along the line of his jaw, across his brow.

Just looking at him made her whole body tingle with awareness. She felt very female, very alive. And very vulnerable.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from trembling.

"No. I was…" He paused, then said in a rush. "I was lonely. Would you mind if I held you for a while?"

Remembering the way she melted whenever he kissed her, she shook her head. "I really don't think that's a good idea." Secretly, she thought it was a wonderful idea. Just not a smart one. Especially now, when her senses were more acute, when she could smell his need and his desire. Was he as aware of her yearnings as she was of his?

She saw the hurt in his eyes before he blinked it away.

He bowed from the waist in a courtly gesture. "I am sorry to have troubled you," he said, and turning around, he stepped through the doorway.

He even looked good walking away.

Did she really want him to go?

She reminded herself that he was a vampire, master of the city. He could take any woman he wanted.

And he wanted her.

"Joaquin, wait."

He stopped but didn't look back at her.

"I'd like to have you hold me." How could she turn him away when he had held her and comforted her in her darkest hour?

She saw his shoulders tense. "I do not need your pity, Regan."