His Dark Embrace

Did she really want to know?

Moving back to the swing, she found herself watching Kaiden’s house again. Nothing seemed to be stirring over there. Maybe he wasn’t even home.

Eventually, hunger drove her inside. She fixed a big breakfast, thinking how much more pleasant it was when shared with Kaiden.

After breakfast, she called her boss and told him she had decided to stay in California. He grumbled about it, complained that she was leaving him shorthanded, but in the end, he wished her well and even offered to pack up the things in her office and send them to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Laskey, but would you please just send them to my apartment? I’ll be coming back to Chicago to get the rest of my clothes and things.” When he agreed, she murmured, “Thank you so much,” and disconnected the call.

There was no hurry to return to Chicago. Her rent was paid until the end of the year. She just hoped her landlord would consider giving her a refund.

Thorne came awake as the sun slid below the horizon. He remained in bed, staring up at the ceiling for several minutes. Sleeping through the day was the final sign that the effects of Paddy’s miraculous potion had completely worn off. Even more damning was the voracious thirst that had awakened with him, a hunger the likes of which he hadn’t known since the night he had first risen as a new vampire. It coursed through his veins like hot lead, searing nerves and cells. His jaw ached as his fangs ran out. Dammit! He had known it was only a matter of time before he reverted completely, but he had hoped he would have a few more weeks with Skylynn, a few more days to pretend he was no different from any other man.

He sat up and as he did so, his surroundings took on a faint red glow. But it wasn’t the room that was changing. Had he been able to see his reflection, he knew his eyes would be hell-red, his skin stretched taut over cheekbones gaunt with hunger.

He didn’t waste time showering. Didn’t bother to change out of the faded gray sweats he had worn to bed. A thought took him out of the house, away from the temptation that was Skylynn, to a neighboring town.

Death stalked the streets as Thorne searched for prey. There had been a time, before Paddy’s potion, when he had been selective, even picky, about those he preyed upon. But not tonight, with his veins burning and his body cramping, on fire with need. Tonight anything—man or beast—was fair game.

He took the first lone male he encountered. It didn’t matter that the man was old and drunk, or that he smelled of cheap wine and rotten teeth. Nothing mattered but the blood flowing in the man’s veins, the hot coppery elixir that would put an end to Thorne’s torment.

He didn’t care that the blood tasted old and sour. All that mattered was that it eased his hunger and took the edge off his thirst.

Another swallow and he turned away. He didn’t bother to make the man forget what had happened. No one would believe anything the drunken old derelict said.

In control again, Thorne sought another victim, a young woman with white-blond hair and brown eyes. He mesmerized her with a look, took what he needed, and after erasing the incident from her mind, he sent the woman on her way.

Standing in the shadows, all his preternatural instincts stirring to life, he bid a sad farewell to the man he had been for the last eight years.

Kaiden Thorne, the man, had died tonight.

Kaiden Thorne, the vampire, had been reborn.

For the tenth time that day, Sky peeked out the curtains in the living room. It had been a week since she had last seen Kaiden—seven days—with each day seeming longer, lonelier, than the last.

Where was he?

Had he left town—left her—without so much as a fare-thee-well?

The thought hurt more than it should have. True, they had shared a few heated kisses, but, in reality, they were little more than friends.

She had gone knocking on his door twice, but there had been no answer. The house had seemed oddly deserted, as if no one lived there anymore.

With a sigh, she let the curtains fall back into place. It surprised her how quickly Kaiden had become an integral part of her life. She felt as if something vital was missing, as if someone had taken an old rusty saw and carved out a piece of her heart, leaving a gaping wound in its place.

Turning away from the window, Sky wandered through the house. It wasn’t a big place by today’s standards. Just a living room, den, kitchen, and half-bath on the first floor, with a master suite, two smaller bedrooms, and a bathroom upstairs. And Granda’s lab in the basement. Sky had considered moving into the master bedroom, mainly because it had its own bathroom and a large closet, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet, anyway.

Returning to the living room, she straightened the pillows on the sofa, rearranged the pictures on the mantel. She ran her fingertips over the head of the little blue dragon Kaiden had won at the fair. Picking it up, she rubbed it against her cheek. The soft plush reminded her of the fun they’d had at the fair, of Kaiden’s kisses.

With a shake of her head, she set the dragon back on the mantel and then, as if drawn by an invisible string, she found herself at the front window again.

Where was he?

Thorne prowled the dark shadows along the waterfront, hands clenched as he sorted through the myriad smells that assaulted his nostrils—sand and salt and sea, the stink of diesel oil and rotting fish, the stench of a dead seal somewhere on the beach. Noise battered his ears—music from a nearby nightclub, traffic from the freeway, an angry couple fighting about money in an apartment two streets over.

Ten days had passed since he’d drunk the last of the potion and he was still coming to terms with the return of his vampiric senses. When he had first been turned, it had taken months to learn how to shut out the multitude of sounds and smells that had assailed him from every side, to adjust to the changes in his vision, his acute sense of touch, his increased strength.

While taking Paddy’s potion, his preternatural powers had gradually diminished. His senses had still been sharper than those of an ordinary mortal, but far less keen than he was accustomed to. It had taken some getting used to but, in the long run, the weakening of his vampiric abilities had seemed a fair trade for the chance to walk in the sun again, to enjoy all the pleasures of mortality that had been stolen from him one rainy night.

Now, it was like being a fledgling again, learning how to tune out the constant barrage of voices and city chaos, to control the strength and power that had lain dormant, to subdue his hunger, to rein in the ever-present urge to kill.

He had hunted every evening, always fighting the innate instinct to take it all. He had hoped it would get easier to resist the blood-lust, and perhaps it would again, given enough time. But for now ...