When he released her, she sank to her knees. Head spinning, she closed her eyes and expelled a deep shuddering breath.
When she looked up, he was gone.
Saintcrow stalked the dark streets, his need at war with his promise not to take her by force. Why had he made such a ridiculous promise in the first place? This was his town. She was his woman, his slave, no more than chattel if he wished it.
He passed each house, knowing which woman was alone and which was entertaining one of his kind. If he wished, he could hear their thoughts, though that was something he rarely did. Mortal thoughts held little interest for him, especially those in Morgan Creek.
He paused outside Leslie’s house. Quinn was inside, high on the woman’s blood. He had taken far more than he should. The woman was unconscious, barely breathing. The beat of her heart was almost undetectable.
Cursing softly, Saintcrow entered the house.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Quinn demanded, gaining his feet. “She’s mine for the night.”
“You damn fool, she’s almost dead!”
“So what? There’s more where she came from. I’m tired of being careful. Tired of this place ! I want to hunt. I want to kill something!”
“You want to kill something?” Saintcrow glanced at the woman on the sofa. “You just did. She’s dead.”
Quinn cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to kill her.” “Bury the body before you seek your rest.”
Quinn nodded.
“If this happens again . . .”
“It won’t,” Quinn said, his voice sullen.
“See that it doesn’t,” Saintcrow said.
Quinn nodded. There was no mistaking the blatant warning in Saintcrow’s voice, or the promise of destruction in his eyes.
Outside again, Saintcrow willed himself to the nearest town. He had long since stopped preying on those in Morgan Creek. He took the first woman he found. She was clean, her blood untainted by drugs or disease, but he found no satisfaction in it, no enjoyment, only an end to his hunger.
Kadie, damn her. She had spoiled his pleasure in anyone else.
Chapter 14
Kadie waited the rest of the night for Saintcrow to return. She yearned for him, craved his kiss, his touch, longed for him more than her next breath. But he didn’t come back.
Not that night.
Not the next night.
Or the next. Where was he? Was it possible he was sick? Did vampires get sick? She grimaced at the idea. They lived forever, so it was likely that they were immune to human diseases. But what did she know? Maybe he had the vampire flu.
With a toss of her head, she plopped down on the sofa. He was probably just trying to make her miss him and, damn his hide, it was working.
By Saturday morning, she was tired of waiting and worrying. After taking a quick shower and downing a piece of toast and a cup of coffee, she jumped into his Corvette—noting that the gas tank was full—and drove to town. The car was insanely fast.
She pulled over to the curb when she saw Marti, Rosemary, Shirley, and Chelsea huddled together outside the grocery store.
She switched off the engine, then joined the others on the sidewalk. “Hi,” she said brightly. “What’s going on?”
“Mona passed away.”
“Who’s Mona?” Kadie asked.
“She’s the elderly lady who lived across from Chelsea.”
“Oh.” The old lady on the porch. Kadie recalled seeing her a couple of times. “What happened to her?”
“She died in her sleep. Donna found her when she went to check on her this morning.”
“And that’s not all,” Marti said. “Leslie is missing.”
“Missing?” Kadie glanced from one woman to the next.
“How could she be missing? There’s no place to go.”
“It’s a polite way of saying she’s . . .” Rosemary choked back a sob.
“She’s what?” Kadie asked.
“Dead.” The word whispered past Marti’s lips.
Kadie heard the tears beneath her words. “What happened?”
“What do you think?” Shirley exclaimed. “One of those monsters killed her. Sooner or later, they’ll kill us all.”
“How do you know she’s dead?”
“No one’s seen her since Tuesday night,” Marti said. “I went by her house yesterday afternoon. Her things were gone.”
Tuesday night, Kadie thought. That was the last night she had seen Saintcrow. The night she had refused him. Had he taken his anger out on Leslie? Kadie shook the thought from her mind. He hadn’t been angry. “But, if no one’s seen her, how do you know she’s dead?”
“Because her house has been cleaned out,” Shirley explained. “It’s happened before.”
“Have you told the others?”
Shirley nodded.
“Why would the vampires kill her?”
“It might have been an accident,” Chelsea said without conviction. “That’s happened before, too.”
“Do you know who did it?” Kadie asked, dreading the answer.
Chelsea shook her head. “We don’t know, for sure.” Kadie glanced at the other women. “You don’t think it was Saintcrow, do you?”
“I think it was Quinn,” Marti said. “He saw her the most.”
“What difference does it make who did it?” Rosemary wiped the tears from her eyes with the edge of her scarf. “Leslie’s dead and one of those monsters killed her. Any one of us could be next.”
Those words echoed in Kadie’s mind as she drove back to Saintcrow’s house. She pulled up in front, then put the car in reverse and continued down the road, hoping she was headed in the right direction.
As luck would have it, she found the cemetery without any trouble. Exiting the Corvette, she stared out over the grave sites. The two new ones were easy to find. The wooden crosses were untouched by wind or rain, the ground freshly turned.
How was she to know which was which? Did it really matter?
She would come back with a knife tomorrow and carve Leslie’s name on one of the crosses and Mona’s on the other so that they wouldn’t be forgotten.
By the time Kadie reached Saintcrow’s house, she was thoroughly depressed. She curled up in a corner of the sofa. She hadn’t seen Saintcrow in days. She would probably never see her family again. And a woman she had known, however slightly, had been murdered. She remembered Rosemary saying any one of them could be next.