Dead Perfect

She rested her cheek against his shoulder and hoped the dance would never end. She had never thought of herself as much of a dancer but she had no trouble following Ronan’s lead. He moved with a slow sensuality and her body followed his lead as though they had danced together for years.

She looked up, her gaze meeting his. There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes. She didn’t have to read his mind to know what he was thinking, or feeling. His touch, his gaze, the very air that sizzled between them was so charged, she was surprised she didn’t melt right there on the dance floor.

He didn’t let her go when the song ended, only held her close until another one began. She was breathless by then, her heart pounding, every nerve and cell in her body aware of his hand holding hers, his arm around her waist. Tension hummed between them, vibrant and alive.

Dancing with Ronan was more than dancing, it was like making love to music.

They danced until the band took a break. As Ronan led her from the dance floor, Shannah had an almost overpowering urge to laugh. Who would have thought that vampires danced, or dealt blackjack in Vegas, or played musical instruments? Or wrote romance novels…

Or told bad jokes. She couldn’t help grinning as they passed a table where three men and two women were sitting.

“I heard this one from my sister’s little girl,” one of the men was saying. “Where do vampires keep their money?” He glanced around the table. “Give up? In a blood bank.”

Shannah frowned. His sister’s kid? She couldn’t help wondering if the sister knew that her brother was a vampire. At the same time, it suddenly made vampires seem more human, somehow. He had a sister and a niece, which meant he wasn’t a very old vampire, unless his sister and her family were vampires, too. Did his family know what he was? And if they didn’t know, how did he manage to keep it a secret?

“Are you ready to go?” Ronan asked.

“Yes,” she said, smothering a yawn. “I’m a little tired.”

Leaving the club, Ronan hailed a cab. Once inside, he drew Shannah into the circle of his arms and held her close. Brushing a kiss across the top of her head, he considered how much his lifestyle had changed since she had shown up on his front porch. His existence, which had been simple and blissfully free of complications for hundreds of years, had turned upside down, and all because of this one frail mortal female.

He knew she had been ill at ease in the club, but she hadn’t seemed repulsed, or worse, frightened. He didn’t want to force the Dark Trick on her, but he wasn’t sure he could accept her decision if she refused. Would she hate him if he brought her across against her will, or thank him once it was done? His one fear was that she would despise him for doing it, despise herself for what she had become, and destroy herself. That was the one thing he knew he could never live with.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jim Hewitt paced the floor of his hotel room. “Dammit, where the devil are they?”

With a shrug, Carl Overstreet sat back in the room’s only chair. “Beats the heck out of me.

Maybe he left town and took her with him. Maybe he killed her.”

Hewitt swore. They had staked out the vampire’s lair day and night. For the last week, there had been no visible sign of activity in the house. Alarmed, Hewitt had gone to the house and knocked on the door and when there was no answer, he had tried looking in the windows.

Yesterday morning, he had broken a back window and gone inside, afraid of what he might find. But the house was empty. There was no sign of foul play. No sign of the vampire at all. He had found a small suitcase containing women’s clothes, and an overnight bag in the living room.

He had found more clothing in the bedroom closet, which had him hoping that she was still alive and would be returning to the house sooner or later. On the other hand, he had known vampires to quit their current residence at a moment’s notice and never return.

He swore again. If anything had happened to the woman, it would be his fault. He had bungled this hunt from the beginning. He just hoped that Eva Black wasn’t paying for it. He had seen a number of vampire kills in his time. Bodies drained of blood, some with their throats torn away, some who appeared to be sleeping, until you realized their skin was the color of paper. Either way, it was never a pretty sight.

Killing a vampire was never easy, or pretty for that matter, he mused ruefully. Whether they were dispatched while resting in their coffins or they were awake and defending themselves, it was never easy and always messy.

“I’m going to go out and check the house again,” he said, caressing the hawthorn stake he had made earlier that day. “Maybe this time I’ll get lucky.”

“Okay, see ya,” Overstreet said.

Powering up his laptop, he began to write his next article.

So, dear reader, we come together again. Our subject this week is vampire hunters. I see your eyebrows going up, your smirk, your disbelief. Vampire hunters, indeed, you’re thinking.

Poppycock! Well, I didn’t think these wielders of holy water existed either, until I met one. To preserve his anonymity, I’m going to call him Steve.

Steve is thirty-five years old and he’s been hunting vampires for eighteen years. When I asked him how he came to such a profession, he shrugged and said, “It’s what my family does.”

Apparently vampire hunters are born, not made.

Vampire hunting, it turns out, is a pretty lucrative business, which is a good thing, since cleaning bills and new clothes for hunters are probably astronomical, given all the blood involved in lopping off heads and ripping out hearts.

But I digress. I can see that many of you are skeptical and think I’m making this up. Be assured that I’m quite serious. If you’re smart, you won’t wander outside after dark, or invite strangers into your house. If you’re a believer, buy yourself a good sturdy crucifix and keep it with you at all times. A word of caution, a cross is only as effective as your faith.

Until next time, watch your neck!

Chapter Twenty-Five

During the next several nights, Ronan introduced Shannah to a number of vampires, both male and female. Xavier and Tonio worked at the Aladdin, Michal worked at the Bellagio. Francine, who was tall and willowy with long blond hair and incredible green eyes, was a dancer in one of the night clubs on the Strip; Cleo was a standup comedienne, Domini was a cocktail waitress at the Diamondback.

Shannah found them all to be rather charming, especially Pete Sandoval. She hadn’t expected to like Ronan’s friends, and she hadn’t expected them to like her, either. After all, they were vampires, predators, and she was prey. It was all so strange. Looking at them, she never would have guessed they were vampires. Of course, Ronan didn’t look like one of the Undead, either, most of the time. Except for Pete Sandoval, all the vampires Ronan had introduced her to were young in the life. Of course, vampires considered anyone under two hundred years old to be young.