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At least I had Sunday's picnic with Cagin to look forward to.
Chapter Six
Raphael prowled the dark streets of Oak Hollow, his hunger and his frustration growing with every passing minute as he quietly cursed a longing he could not satisfy or ignore. Going out with Kathy McKenna had been as big a mistake as he had known it would be, but he had been helpless to resist. He didn't know what it was about her that drew him. Certainly he had dated other women who were as pretty and as charming, yet none had fired his imagination or his hunger the way she had. Like some exotic siren of myth and legend, she had captured his soul with her smile, his heart with her laughter, and now he couldn't think of anything else. She was in his thoughts by night and his dreams by day. The urge to carry her off to his lair and bed her, to kiss every inch of her sweet flesh, to savor the sweetness of her life's essence, burned through him like a fever with no cure.
Kathy.
Since seeing her on Thursday night, it had taken all the willpower he possessed to stay away from her. In all his existence, he had thought himself in love only twice. He had killed the first woman; the second one had been the girl he had told Kathy about. He didn't intend to make the same mistake a third time.
But it hadn't kept him from dissolving into mist and entering the bookstore Friday night. Her scent had surrounded him, tantalizing him even in his intangible form as he hovered in the air near her desk. Drifting there, weightless, shapeless, he had recalled the softness of her skin, the warmth of her smile. He had tortured himself with her nearness until he couldn't stand it any longer, and then he had fled the building.
Resuming his own form, he had preyed upon the first man he had seen. Filled with impotent rage, he had taken the man's blood quickly, his hands cruel as he held his prey in place. He had been sorely tempted to drink the man dry. He was a Vampire, after all. Why not loose the beast that lurked within and revel in the power that was his? To what purpose did he cling to his humanity? For the approval of a woman who would never be his? He had released his pent-up frustration in a wild cry that had sent an alley cat scurrying for cover. Overcome with guilt and shame, he had released the helpless mortal, wiped the memory of what had happened from the man's mind, and sent him on his way. Hands tightly clenched, Rafe had watched the man stagger down the street until he was swallowed up in the shadows of the night.
Now, as he stalked the dark streets, Rafe couldn't help wondering what Kathy would think if she could see him at this moment. He didn't need a mirror to know how he looked now, with his fangs extended and his eyes red and glowing with the lust for blood. He had seen his own image mirrored in his brother's face often enough.
Muttering an oath, he vowed it was a side of him that Kathy would never see. To his regret, the only way to guarantee that she never saw him at his worst was to stay away from her.
The thought of never seeing her again was far more painful than he had expected.
Rafe grunted softly. He was eighty-five years old; he had been a Vampire for seventy-two of those years. He should be used to pain in all its forms by now.
Chapter Seven
There was only one church in Oak Hollow, and it was open to everyone who didn't want to drive the hundred or so miles to River's Edge, which was the next closest town and catered to all the major religions and a few I'd never heard of.
Reverend Paul was standing at the door on Sunday morning, welcoming his parishioners with a smile and a handshake, when I arrived. He was a nice-looking, middle-aged man with short-cropped brown hair and guileless brown eyes.
His smile was warm and sincere as he clasped my hand. “Good morning, Kathy. It's good to see you here.”
“Thank you, it's good to be here.”
I found a seat in a pew near the back, my gaze drawn, as always, to the beautiful stained glass window above the altar. In brilliant shades of blue and red, orange and gold, it depicted the Savior of the world sitting on a rock, a tranquil expression on His face as He stroked the head of a tiny black lamb. The rays of a bright sun gilded His hair and white robe.
I had mixed emotions when it came to religion. I didn't put any stock in the big bang theory. I'd heard it said once that believing in the big bang was akin to believing that you could throw all the parts of a car into the air and it would come down fully assembled. I didn't believe that mankind's ancestors had crawled out of some primordial soup, either. Evolution just didn't ring true. Neither hypothesis made sense to me. I believed in the creation story, though I had no idea where dinosaurs, Vampires, and Werewolves fit into the grand scheme of things. All I knew was that my heart and soul filled with a sweet sense of peace and hope when I looked at the Savior of the world as depicted in that stained glass window.
Reverend Paul took his place at the pulpit. The congregation sang an opening hymn, the reverend offered a prayer, the congregation sang another hymn, and then the reverend turned to his sermon. I guess the reason I liked him so much was because he didn't preach hellfire and endless damnation, but love, accountability, and forgiveness.
Susie sat across the aisle, her three sons sandwiched between her and her husband. It was the first time I had seen her boys sitting still, and the first time I had seen her husband. He had short blond hair and didn't look anything like I'd imagined.
Catching my gaze, Susie smiled at me. I smiled back, then returned my attention to what the reverend was saying. I tried to concentrate on the sermon, but my thoughts kept ping-ponging between Raphael's absence and my upcoming date with Cagin.
After church, Susie introduced me to her husband, Rick. The three of us made polite chitchat for a few minutes before I excused myself. I thanked the reverend for a fine sermon, then hurried home to change out of my church dress and into a pair of jeans and a sweater. I sliced the devil's food cake I had made for dessert and put it into a carrier, along with some paper plates, napkins, and plastic forks.
Cagin arrived right on time. He looked strong and fit in a pair of faded cutoffs and a white T-shirt that had a snarling tiger painted on the back. “Ready?”
“Ready.” I grabbed a jacket from the closet, picked up the small basket that held the cake, and followed him out the door.
It was a beautiful day for a drive. The sky was a clear sapphire blue, the weather warm but not hot. The place Cagin had chosen for our picnic was beside a small blue lake. It was a lovely place, flanked by a carpet of thick green grass and tall willow trees. It looked remarkably like the mural I had painted. Ducks and geese floated on the surface of the water. I thought I saw a deer resting in the shade across the way. A hawk soared effortlessly overhead, its wings outstretched.
