Dead Perfect

He sat by her side all that night, hoping she would awake. When she didn’t, he carried her to bed and tucked her in. Brushing a kiss across her brow, he went to seek his own rest.

As usual, Shannah slept late the following day. On waking, she was surprised to find herself in bed instead of in the chair where she had fallen asleep. She felt a moment of regret that she had slept through the night. What had Ronan done after he put her to bed? She didn’t like the idea of his wandering through the casinos alone. He was too handsome, too appealing.

Rising, she ordered breakfast from room service, then dressed and went downstairs. She wandered into the casino, which didn’t seem nearly as glamorous or exciting in the afternoon as it did at night. She noticed it wasn’t as crowded, either.

She played blackjack for twenty minutes or so, but it wasn’t as much fun without Ronan. She tried her hand at the slots and at video poker and then left the hotel.

Putting on her sunglasses, she strolled up the street, looking in windows, watching the people who passed by. She meandered through a couple of the other casinos, stopping to play a slot machine here and there without any luck.

Maybe she just wasn’t a gambler, she mused as she left another casino behind. It was fun for a few minutes but she quickly lost interest in the games, even when she was winning. If she was going to spend money, she would much rather shop than gamble.

She didn’t know about Ronan, but she was ready to go home.

She went into a café for a late lunch, then decided to take in a movie.

It was dark when she left the theater, or at least as dark as it got in Vegas.

Shannah was crossing the street when a tall man wearing a hat and a long coat fell into step beside her. She darted a glance in his direction, felt a shiver go down her spine when she saw the predatory gleam in his eye.

She quickened her step, one hand clutching her purse. She breathed a sigh of relief when she left him behind, only to gasp when she realized he was again at her side, matching her step for step.

She glanced around, looking for help, wondering if anyone would come to her aid if she screamed even though, as yet, he hadn’t done anything.

Panic made her heart beat faster. She was about to break into a run, deciding it was better to look foolish than get mugged, when his hand closed around her upper arm in a vice-like grip and he dragged her into the shadows of a side street.

When she would have screamed, he slapped his hand across her mouth. Leaning close, he whispered, “You don’t want to do that.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding with fear, and then with dread when his eyes took on a fiendish red glow. His top lip curled back, exposing his fangs. This was the vampire of legend, the kind of vampire who drained his victims dry and left them lying on the ground, a dry empty shell.

She stared into his face, her insides turning cold as she saw death in his eyes. Her death.

Ronan! Ronan, help me, oh, please, help me!The words screamed in her mind as the vampire grasped a handful of her hair and jerked her head back, exposing her throat.

This couldn’t be happening, she thought. She didn’t want to die like this. Her stomach clenched with horror as the vampire lowered his head toward her neck. With a cry, she began to struggle in his grasp. Her nails raked his face with no effect. When she tried to knee him, he slapped her, hard, twice, then dragged her body up against his, his arm like iron around her waist. She screamed when she felt the scrape of his fangs against her skin.

She closed her eyes, only to snap them open when the vampire suddenly released her. She staggered backward, her head striking the wall of a building. Moaning softly, she slid down the wall. Dazed, she shook her head to clear it, then stared at the two figures that were slowly circling each other. It took her a moment to realize that the second figure was Ronan.

It was a scene straight out of a nightmare. Eyes blazing red as hellfire, their fangs bared and their hands like claws, the two vampires circled each other.

Shannah stared at them, unable to move, as they suddenly lunged at each other in what she knew would be a battle to the death. It was brutal and ugly, a ballet of blood fought in silence.

She watched Ronan as if seeing him for the first time. Always, he had been gentle, restrained, in control. Now she saw the predator that lurked within him. His power sizzled through the night air, raising the hair along her nape. The sharp coppery tang of blood stung her nostrils.

She wanted to cover her eyes, to run away and hide, but she could only crouch there, her gaze fixed on Ronan as the battle raged on. And then, suddenly, it was over and Ronan stood alone.

He stared at something in his hand, something that left drops of what looked like dark water on the pavement at his feet.

His eyes blazed with triumph and the heat of battle. When his gaze met hers, he turned away with a low growl.

Feeling as though she had been freed from a sorcerer’s spell, Shannah scrambled to her feet and ran out of the alley.

Eyes closed, Ronan listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps. She had seen him at his worst now, seen the ugliness he had tried to spare her. Would she look at him differently now?

Would she see him as nothing but a monster instead of a man?

Muttering an oath, he lifted the body of the vampire onto his shoulder. Moving with preternatural speed, he left the city behind, searching for a deserted place where no one would find the body before dawn. When he found a ravine, he dropped the body inside and tossed the heart in after it. Come morning, the sun would destroy the remains.

He only hoped he hadn’t destroyed his relationship with Shannah.

He found a place to wash up before returning to the hotel, then stood in the hallway outside her door, suddenly reluctant to face her. He could hear her pacing the floor inside, smell the residue of fear that clung to her as she tried to erase what she had seen from her mind.

Would she want to see him now, he wondered, or should he leave her be for what remained of the night? Deciding time and distance might be to his advantage, he was about to turn away when the muffled sound of her sobs reached his ears. The thought of her in her room, crying and alone, was more than he could bear, especially when he was the cause of her tears.

Lifting his hand, he knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” she called, her voice shaky and uncertain.

“It’s me. Are you all right?”

Footsteps, and then the door opened and Shannah stood there, her eyes wide, one hand pressed to her heart.

“Are you all right?” he repeated.

“I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean. I’m not sure I’ll ever be all right again.”