Night's Kiss (Children of The Night 1)

Rising, he left his lair, eager to see his bride. He found her in the kitchen. She was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. He wrinkled his nose against the smell of corn and roasting chicken.

On silent feet, he moved up behind her. "Good evening, my love," he murmured, nuzzling her nape.

She leaned back against him, turning her head for his kiss.

"You've not changed your mind?" he asked.

"Never."

He drew her into his arms so he could kiss her more fully, his senses filling with her nearness. Tonight she would be his, always and forever his. From this night forward, he would share his life with a woman he loved. It was a heady thought, the fulfillment of a wish he had never acknowledged, a hope he had never expected to obtain.

Reluctantly, he released her. "I'll be back soon," he promised.

She nodded. She did not have to ask where he was going. She knew him well enough now that she could tell when he had fed and when he had not.

He kissed her again, quickly, and then he was gone.

Anthony Loken stood over the remains of his latest victim. Like the last four, this one no longer resembled anything remotely human. Hands clenched at his sides, Loken stared at what had been a healthy young man only a short time ago.

Damn! Filled with a growing sense of defeat, Loken paced the lab from one end to the other. He had tried infusing the vampire's blood into the human system in every possible way he could think of. None of them had been successful. Always, the subjects had shriveled and died, sometimes in minutes, sometimes in hours. How did vampires survive when their blood seemed to be toxic? He had tried mixing the vampire's blood with the blood of his subjects, he had tried diluting it with a variety of liquids, but to no avail. He had experimented with the temperature, making the blood warmer and then colder. The results had been the same. The subjects had shriveled and died, most of them screaming in an agony he could only imagine. He had increased the white blood cells. He had decreased the white blood cells. He had mixed the blood with holy water, thinking it might counteract the deadly effects of the vampire's blood. He had tried adding a small amount of salt. No matter what he had tried, the results were always the same.

He slammed his fist into the wall, a wordless cry of frustration and rage rising in his throat. He would not be defeated. He struck the wall again and yet again and then came to an abrupt halt, oblivious to the blood flowing from his knuckles. Frowning, he stared at the empty vials on the counter. Perhaps there had been something amiss in the blood of the vampire. Or perhaps he had been using the wrong subjects…

Of course! He was no mere mortal. He was a warlock of almost unequaled power. His mistake had been in experimenting on puny humans when what he needed was a witch.

Licking the blood from his knuckles, he turned off the lights and left the laboratory. Myra would know where he could find a witch. She would, in fact, have been his first choice had her powers not been greater than his own.

Yes, he thought, his confidence restored. All he needed was a witch and the secret of eternal life and good health would be his.

CHAPTER 22

Because it was quick and easy, Roshan went looking for prey at the Nocturne. There were only a few people in the club this early in the evening. It made hunting dangerous, but then it was always dangerous to hunt when the prey wasn't alone, more so at this time of the night Better to seek prey when the hour was late and mortals were more susceptible to preternatural forces. But tonight he had no choice. He must be at his best when he stood at the altar beside Brenna. He wanted no trace of his hellish thirst lurking in his eyes, no hint that he was thinking of anything other than his bride.

Unbidden came the memory of the day he had wed Atiyana. How young they had both been, innocent and eager and a little afraid. He had never known a woman. She had been a maiden, untouched and untutored. Together, they had learned the ways of love, discovered the pleasures of the marriage bed, waited with joyful hearts for the birth of their first child… His sweet Atiyana, in heaven these many years. What would she think of him if she could see him as he was now?

A movement in the far corner caught his eye. Glancing sideways, Roshan saw Anthony Loken. He was dancing with a pretty girl wearing a pair of skintight black leather pants and a black midriff top. Her eyes were lined with kohl, she wore black lipstick. Her waist-length, silver blond hair stood out like a shining beacon in a sea of black tresses.

Loken threw back his head, laughing at something she said.

Moving toward the bar, Roshan asked the first single girl he came to if she would care to dance. Leading her onto the dance floor, he drew her into his arms. Careful to keep his back to Loken, he captured the girl's gaze with his. When she was pliant in his arms, he lowered his head, about to drink, when he overheard the voice of the blonde dancing with Loken.

"Why are you looking for a vampire?" she asked in a deliberately throaty voice.

"I'm fascinated by creatures of the night," Loken replied. "Their lifestyle, their longevity, their ability to heal themselves of all but the most fatal of injuries. I'm hoping to find a vampire who will bring me across."

"So, you're in search of the Dark Gift?"

He nodded. "Do you know someone who can bestow it on me?"

"I might."

"Might it be you?" Loken asked.

"No, but I've heard it rumored that a real vampire comes here now and then."

Roshan froze, the girl in his arms momentarily forgotten.

"Does he come here often?" There was no denying the excitement in Loken's voice. "Do you think he'll be here tonight?"

"I don't know. What's it worth to you if I can find out who it is?"

"Honey, if you can do that, you can name your own price."

Roshan swore under his breath. Had someone seen him feeding? Or was the blonde simply telling Loken what he wanted to hear? Damn!

Releasing the girl in his arms from his power, Roshan led her back to the bar, then left the club, his anger rising with his hunger. Damn Loken! The man turned up at the worst times.

He shook his head. He had always been careful when he hunted at the Nocturne. Nevertheless, he would have to find a new place to hunt.

With preternatural speed, he headed for the far side of town. He had little time to waste. Brenna was waiting for him.

It was almost eight o'clock when he returned home. He made a quick trip down to his lair for a change of clothes, then headed for the shower. He noted, in passing, that the bedroom door was closed. He could hear Brenna humming softly inside, felt his desire quicken as he imagined her slipping into the lacy underwear she had told him about.