She poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it into the living room. At the window, she pulled back the curtain. There wasn’t much to see other than rocks, trees, and the dark clouds rapidly gathering overhead.
She had always loved the rain. At home, she liked to wrap up in a blanket and sit on the front porch when it stormed. Even though Kathy had been afraid of the thunder and the lightning, she had always crawled into Kadie’s lap.
Kadie felt her throat grow thick as she thought about her little sister. Kathy had been a change-of-life baby. Kadie had been sixteen when her mother announced she was pregnant. Kadie remembered being horrified at the thought of her mother having another baby. Kathy had been spoiled and coddled by her parents from the day she’d been born. Kadie had never been jealous of the attention Kathy received. She had doted on her little sister, been heartbroken when Kathy took sick. Her father, a respected surgeon, had been unable to diagnose her illness. Specialists had been called in but to no avail. Her ailment remained a mystery. Recently, her father had discovered an infusion that enabled Kathy to enjoy several weeks at home before it wore off and she had to return to the hospital for another treatment.
With a sigh, Kadie turned away from the window, praying that a cure could be found.
The day stretched before her, as gloomy as her thoughts. Kadie began to understand why Brittany worked in the library, why Marti and Jeremy worked in the grocery store, and why Leslie and Chelsea handed out popcorn at the movie theater. They didn’t get paid, but it gave them something to do, a sense, however false, of being useful.
Moving to the sofa, she wondered if there was something in town she could do.
She sat up with a start when the doorbell rang. Feeling a little apprehensive, she set her coffee cup aside, then went to the door and looked through the peephole.
It was Carl Freeman.
Curious, she opened the door. “Hi. What brings you here?”
“I was just taking a walk and thought I’d stop by.”
“That’s some long walk.”
“Tell me about it.” He shuffled from one foot to the other. “Can I come in?”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to let anyone into the house.”
“Maybe you could come out?” he suggested.
“I guess so.” Leaving the door open, she stepped outside.
“How are you liking it here?” he asked.
“Is that a trick question?”
“Yeah, I guess it is. I mean, what’s there to like?” Kadie pondered that a moment. He was right. She could think of nothing in this town to recommend it. But there had to be something. “The trees are pretty,” she remarked, glancing at the oak in the front yard. “The air is clean.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “You’re one of those ‘the glass is half-full’ kind of people, aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but if you look hard enough, you can usually find something good in any situation,” she said, and then frowned. Why had she said that? She hated it here, beautiful trees and clean air notwithstanding.
Kadie felt a sudden apprehension when he moved closer. She took a step to the side, then folded her arms over her breasts.
He cleared his throat. Not quite meeting her eyes, he said, “You’re very pretty.”
Murmuring, “Thank you,” Kadie took a step backward, her apprehension turning to alarm when he took another step toward her. “What are you doing?”
“Scratching an itch.”
Before she could retreat into the house, his arms closed around her and then he was kissing her, his body rubbing against hers, his hands stroking her arms, her face, her back.
At first, she was too startled by his behavior, too outraged by his brash assault, to react, until he plunged his tongue into her mouth. Gagging, she drove her knee into his crotch as hard as she could.
He released her immediately, his hands clutching his injured manhood.
Pivoting on her heel, Kadie escaped into the house and slammed the door behind her. She turned the lock with a flourish, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. What had just happened? She had never said or done a single thing to encourage him.
She pressed her hand to her heart. What would Saintcrow think when he found out?
What would he do?
He had told her that none of the vampires would dare touch her on pain of death. Did that apply to the humans in town, too?
She was suddenly certain that it did, and just as certain that she knew why Carl had rubbed his body against hers, why he had kissed her. It was no secret that he wanted to end his life. Had he finally found a way to make it happen?
Panic sent her into the bathroom. She showered for twenty minutes in hopes of erasing Carl’s scent from her skin, washed her hair three times, brushed her teeth.
Pulling on clean clothes, she tried to relax, but it was hopeless. She fretted over Carl’s actions the rest of the day, her tension growing with each passing hour. She didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s death.
Her nerves were drawn tight as a bow string when Saintcrow appeared in the living room.
As usual, he asked about her day, only to pause, his brows rushing together, his eyes narrowing, as he looked her up and down, his nostrils flaring.
He didn’t ask any questions, just looked at her as though awaiting an explanation.
Kadie glared at him. She saw no need to explain what he obviously already knew.
And still he stood there, waiting.
“Don’t hurt him,” she said.
“The man has been looking for death since he came here. He’s found it.”
Kadie placed her hand on Saintcrow’s arm. It felt like iron beneath her palm. “You can’t kill him just because he kissed me!”
“You think not?”
“I won’t be the cause of a man’s death!”
“He knew what he was doing. If I spare him, it will weaken my authority and put your life in danger.”
“But . . .”
“The subject is closed,” he said harshly. Then, more quietly, “I’ll make it quick.”
Before she could beg Saintcrow to reconsider, he was gone.
Unable to sit still, she paced the living room floor, her mind conjuring one gruesome image after another, all of them ending with Carl Freeman dead and drained of blood.
Kadie went to the window and stared out into the darkness. Where was Saintcrow? What was he doing? She sat on the sofa, her fingers drumming on the cushion beside her, then got up and went to the window again. She glanced at her watch, surprised to find that what had seemed like hours had been only a few minutes.