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Nice butt. I grinned as I recalled Edna's assessment of Raphael's behind. Following him into the living room, I had to agree with her.

“Please,” I said, “sit down.”

I sank into the chair across from the sofa, one leg folded beneath me, suddenly at a loss for words. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask him, but I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answers.

“You're still upset about last night,” he said, and it wasn't a question.

I nodded. There was no point in lying. “You killed him,” I said with a snap of my fingers. “Just like that.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Yes.”

I took a deep breath, then blurted, “How many people have you killed?”

His gaze burned into mine, and then he rose effortlessly to his feet. “Good-bye, Kathy.”

I stared at him, knowing if he left now, I would never see him again.

He was at the door when I called, “Rafe, don't go!”

He glanced over his shoulder, his face impassive. “It's better this way.”

“No.” I blinked against the sharp sting of tears. “Please stay.”

He stared at me for a long moment before resuming his place on the sofa. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

I nodded, although I wasn't sure at all. Maybe ignorance really was bliss.

“I'm a Vampire,” he said, both his voice and his expression devoid of emotion.

I was tempted to say, “duh!” but I restrained myself.

“You have to understand that killing comes easy to us,” he went on, “and it gets easier with every passing year. After a while, some of us forget that we were once human. Those who do look on mortals as nothing more than prey, theirs for the taking.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“No, but many do. Even so, there have been times when I've taken a life.”

I waited, hoping he would say he had killed them all in self-defense.

“When I was a new Vampire, I fell in love with a young woman. After a while, she said she wanted to be what I was, that she wanted us to be together forever.” He paused, his gaze looking beyond me into the distant past. “I knew how Vampires were made, and even though I had never brought anyone across or seen it done, I was sure I could do it. I was wrong. She died in my arms.”

He looked at me again, his dark eyes haunted. “I've never tried to bring anyone else across.”

Feeling suddenly chilled from the inside out, I ran my hands up and down my arms, waiting for him to go on.

“I've killed men and Werewolves in self-defense,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “I've killed men when my need for blood was stronger than my self-control, but I've never killed a man in anger.” He smiled faintly. “Or a woman.”

“Where do you sleep?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I didn't mean where, exactly, I was just wondering what you sleep in.”

“My underwear,” he replied, and then frowned. “But that's not what you're asking, either, is it?”

“No.”

“These days, only Hollywood Vampires sleep in coffins. The rest of us have discovered king-size beds are more comfortable.”

I hoped my relief didn't show on my face.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“Someone told me your grandmother is a witch. Is that true?”

The sound of his deep, rich laughter filled the room. “You've been talking to Edna and Pearl, haven't you?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head. “I don't know where they get their information, but I think those old broads know everything that happens in this town. Hell, maybe they're witches, too.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“It's true. My grandmother Brenna is a spell-casting, card-carrying white witch.” He canted his head to one side. “Looking for someone who can make me disappear?”

“Of course not. Don't be silly.”

“What are you looking for?” he asked, all hint of amusement gone from his voice and his expression.

It was a good question. I wished I had a good answer. “I'm not looking for anything; I was just curious.” I blew out a sigh. “Vampires and Were-creatures and now witches. I don't know what to think anymore.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

I lifted one brow. “Shakespeare?”

“Hamlet, act one, scene five.” He grinned at me. “I had a good tutor.”

“Did he know you were a Vampire?”

“No. My folks didn't see any reason to divulge that particular bit of information.” He grinned. “Rane and I played some awful tricks on old Mr. Axtell.”

“What kinds of tricks?”

“One night, my folks invited him to stay for dinner. While they were all in the living room talking, Rane and I turned his car upside down. Another time, Rane hypnotized Axtell, and when he woke up, he was in a…”

“In a what?”

Rafe cleared his throat. “A bordello.”

“How'd you manage that?”

“It wasn't easy.” Rafe shook his head. “We caught hell for that one.”

“I should hope so,” I said, but I couldn't help grinning.

“He figured out we were behind it. I don't know how. But a few days later, my old man received a bill for five hundred dollars from the bordello for services rendered. He wasn't happy about that. Neither were Rane and I. Our father decided if we had enough spare time on our hands to play pranks on our teacher, then we could paint the house, inside and out.”

Rafe laughed and I laughed with him. And then he looked at me, his expression sober once more. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I don't know. My good sense tells me that I shouldn't have anything to do with you, but…”

“But?”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. “I can't stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

“It could be dangerous for you.”

“I know.”

“It doesn't scare you?”

“Of course it does.”

“You've nothing to fear from me, you know that, don't you?”

“It's not you I'm afraid of. It's what's happening in Oak Hollow. It's knowing, really knowing, that Vampires and Were-creatures and…and witches…actually exist. I mean, I knew it before I moved here, but I had never met any Supernatural folk. I told myself they didn't really exist. But now…”

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