His Dark Embrace

“I know. Enough about me,” Sky said, suddenly eager to change the subject. “How’s the wedding coming along? Have you set the date yet?”

There was a long silence before Tara said, “No. My dad had a heart attack. He’s scheduled for a triple bypass as soon as he’s strong enough for the operation, so the wedding’s on hold.”

“Oh, Tara, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“Just pray for him.”

“I will. Listen, I’m in town for a few days. Maybe we can get together... .”

“I wish I could, but I’m not home. My mom isn’t handling this very well, so I took a leave of absence to stay with her.”

“Of course, she needs you.” Tara’s parents lived in Vermont. “Keep in touch.”

“I will. And let me know how things work out between you and ... what’s his name, anyway?”

“Kaiden.”

“Oh, girl, you’ve got it bad, don’t you? I can hear it in your voice.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. Talk to you soon.”

Skylynn sighed as she disconnected the call. You just never knew what twists and turns waited for you down the road.

She needed some fresh air. Grabbing her handbag, she hurried outside, got into her rental car, and drove to her favorite restaurant.

Lingering over a piece of blueberry pie, she contemplated going to a movie, but, mindful that Kaiden might still be in town, she hurried home, determined to be inside before dark.

After returning to her apartment, she went from room to room to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. With Tara out of town, there was no point in staying any longer.

Once everything was packed, she curled up on the sofa with an old photograph album that had belonged to her parents. As soon as she flipped to the first page, she was swept into the past. She smiled as she turned the pages. There were photos of her parents, of Granda and Grams, of herself and Sam, of numerous cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, and chickens. A photo of the dog that had eaten one of the chickens.

She leaned forward, her gaze narrowing as she studied an old photo of Kaiden’s house. It had been taken on Halloween. She squinted at the image of the little girl in the fairy costume on the front porch. She remembered that night. It was the first time she had gone trick-or-treating at Kaiden’s. Granda must have taken it before she turned and ran for home, screaming bloody murder. The next photo showed someone wearing a skeleton costume, doubled over laughing. Sam.

She thumbed through the pages, stopping when she came to a photo of Sam in his uniform. He looked so young, she thought, so proud. Where was he now? Would she ever see him again? As always, whenever she thought of her brother, she sent a silent prayer to heaven begging for his safe return.

Thorne stood on the sidewalk in front of Sky’s apartment, considering and rejecting ways to get back into her good graces, or at least convince her to talk to him.

He could always force her to listen. It would be all too easy to overpower her will with his, to make her listen. If he was so inclined, he could mess with her mind. He could make her think she was in love with him, make her forget he was a vampire. He had to admit the idea was tempting except for one thing. He didn’t want a robot.

He was still considering and rejecting ideas when a subtle ripple in the air warned him he was no longer alone. He turned as the other vampire materialized beside him.

She was still the most beautiful creature he had ever known. Her hair fell in a long brown braid down her back, her eyes were still the greenest he had ever seen. Her skin was still like alabaster, clear and perfect.

“Death.” Her name slipped past his lips, soft as a sigh.

She laughed softly. “I haven’t gone by that name in centuries.”

He wasn’t surprised. Living as long as they did, vampires often changed their names, sometimes because of necessity, sometimes out of boredom.

“It was so old-fashioned,” she explained airily. “No one believes in the old gods anymore. I go by Cassandra now. But enough about me. How have you been, Kaiden?”

“The same as always.” He saw no reason to tell her of his brief stint as a near mortal. “What brings you here?”

“I thought you should know that I brought a friend of yours across.”

That gave him pause. A friend? He didn’t have any mortal friends, and damn few immortal ones. “Really? Who might that be?”

“Desmarais.”

Thorne stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“I didn’t know who he was until the deed was done.” She held up her hand, silencing him. “I know, I should have been more careful, but”—she shrugged—“he was looking for a vampire, and I was hungry.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Thorne muttered.

“I know he’s been hunting you, but don’t worry. I warned him that if he hurt you, he would answer to me.”

“Hurt me? He wants my head.”

“If he takes it, he’ll lose his own.”

“I’m sure that’ll be a great comfort when the time comes.”

“Very funny.”

“As for Desmarais, I’m a big boy. I can fight my own battles.”

“You know how mothers are,” she said, grinning. “No matter how old our sons get, they’re still our little boys.”

Thorne snorted. “What the devil would you know about being a mother?”

Eyes narrowed, she scowled at him, and then shrugged. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, glancing up at the building.

“Nothing you need to know.”

Her husky laugh rose in the air with the deep-throated resonance of a cathedral bell. “There must be a woman involved. I wonder, is she prey? Or lay?”

“Neither,” he retorted, his voice little more than a growl.

“This one must be special,” she said with a pout. “I was hoping you and I could spend some time together.”

“Not right now.”

“I can wait,” she replied with ill-disguised arrogance.

She was gone before he could reply.

Thorne glanced up at Sky’s apartment. Desmarais was a problem that could also wait. The feud between the two of them had been going on for decades, and whether the hunter was human or vampire was immaterial. For now, the only thing that mattered was reestablishing communications with Skylynn. Once that was done, he would find Desmarais and, hopefully, the missing ingredient in Paddy’s formula.