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Night's Touch (Children of The Night 2)

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Curious, she sought him out. He was young in the life, compared to her; but then, compared to her, they were all little more than fledglings.

He came to an abrupt halt when he saw her, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her for what she was.

Mara plucked his name from his mind. “Roshan DeLongpre,” she murmured. “I bid you good evening.”

He bowed from the waist. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, madam.”

His voice was deep and rich, his manner respectful yet wary. She liked him immediately. “I am Mara.”

Though he tried to hide it, his surprise was evident in the widening of his eyes and the sharp intake of his breath. “Like all of our kind, I have heard of you.”

“Oh?” She took a step closer, noting his finely chiseled features, the strength of his jaw, the spread of his shoulders. “And what have you heard?”

“That you are truly immortal, and that the sun no longer holds any power over you.” His gaze moved over her in frank admiration. “And that you are the most beautiful of women.”

She smiled, pleased by the compliment and his obvious sincerity. “I take it you are the master of the city.” She had known it wasn’t Vincent. He was too young in the life and too new to the area.

“I am.”

“I am surprised you allow another into your domain.”

“You speak of Cordova?”

She nodded.

“He is my daughter’s friend.”

Ah, she thought, the woman in the house. Cara. “How is it that you have a child?”

“We adopted her when she was an infant.”

Mara digested that for a moment. “What was it like, raising a human child?”

“It was…” He searched for the right word. “Interesting.”

She smiled, thinking that interesting was probably an understatement. “How did she feel, having vampires for parents?”

“Until recently, she didn’t know. She was understandably upset when she found out.”

“Yet she is in love with a vampire.”

“She doesn’t believe he’s one of us.”

“It should be…interesting…when she finds out the truth,” Mara remarked with a faint smile. “Come, hunt with me.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“And mine,” she said, linking her arm with his. “I have not hunted with a companion in many years.” She threw back her head and took a deep breath. “Do you smell it?” she asked, and he heard the underlying note of excitement in her voice, saw it in the predatory gleam in her extraordinary green eyes.

Roshan nodded. The scent of prey was in the air.

Mara was a skilled and ruthless hunter, but then, that was to be expected, Roshan thought with a wry grin, seeing as how she’d had thousands of years to perfect her skill.

She called her desired prey to her with a look, and because she was in the mood to hunt, she took only a taste from each of her chosen victims before offering them to Roshan.

There was nothing like it, he thought, the thrill of the hunt, the surge of power as you held your prey in your grasp, the thick, rich taste of their life’s blood sliding over your tongue, the way it filled you with warmth and strength, the exhilarating sense of being invincible. In the last few years, he had hunted only when necessary and taken only what he needed to survive. But tonight, tonight they drank from dozens until even his prodigious thirst was quenched.

And then, to his surprise, Mara drew him into her arms. “Shh,” she whispered, “don’t be afraid. I want only a taste.”

He would have refused, but he found himself powerless to resist. He stared into her eyes, eyes as deep and green as the Nile, sighed as her fangs pierced the skin of his neck just below his left ear. It had been a long time since anyone had drunk from him. He had forgotten what it was like, the heat of it, the sensual pleasure that bordered on ecstasy. And yet, even as he reveled in it, he felt the sharp prick of his conscience, certain that Brenna would not approve.

Mara licked the wound in his neck, then swept her hair aside, offering Roshan her throat. A thrill of anticipation ran down his spine. To drink from Mara was akin to drinking from the wellspring of eternal life.

With a shake of his head, he backed away from her. “No, I can’t.”

“Of course you can.”

He shook his head again. It was bad enough that he had let her drink from him. To drink from her would be like betraying Brenna.

“Do not be so quick to refuse,” Mara said. “I’m offering you more than you know.”

“I don’t understand.”

“As you yourself said, the sun no longer has any power over me.”

“You mean…?”

“Exactly. Once you have drunk from me, you will no longer be under its spell. You may even find that, after a year or so, you can walk in its light.”

He pondered that a moment—to walk in the sun’s light again, to feel its warmth on his face. Was it truly possible? “Why are you offering this to me?”

She lifted one slim shoulder and let it fall. “Consider it a gift in appreciation for your company this night.”

“If my wife drinks from me, will she be affected the same way?”

“I should think so, though it may take longer.”

It would be a miracle to walk in the light of day again, to no longer be rendered helpless each dawn. Surely Brenna would understand! He knew how much she missed the brisk days of autumn and the warm halcyon days of summer.

Mara was watching him, waiting for his decision. Taking a deep breath, he reached for her.

She closed her eyes as he lowered his head. Her skin was smooth, cool to the touch. Her blood was like liquid fire on his tongue. He felt the power of it sing through every fiber and cell of his being. More, he thought, he wanted more. He wanted it all.

Enough!

Her voice rang out in his mind and he drew back, unable to resist her command.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, horrified by what he had so desperately longed to do.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she said, and he saw the understanding in her eyes.

“Thank you,” he replied fervently, and then asked, “What of Vince? Is he able to walk in the sun’s light?”

“Not yet, but soon. The sun does not render him powerless, though he must remain indoors, and at some point during the day he must rest. But as he grows older and stronger, the sun will have less power over him.”

In a courtly gesture, Roshan took Mara’s hand in his. He bowed over it, then kissed the back of her hand. “Again, my thanks.”



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