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She grinned at him, displaying her fangs. “Just what you think I am.”
“No. No, it’s not possible.”
She grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head to the side. “Oh, it’s very possible,” she hissed, and buried her fangs in his throat.
He struggled, but he was no match for her supernatural strength. She drank until there was nothing left but a dry, shriveled husk. Wiping her mouth on his shirt, she retrieved the woman’s body, then returned to the mountain. It took only moments to dig a grave big enough for the two of them.
Throwing back her head, she gazed up at the sky. It had been years since she’d felt this good, this strong. This invincible.
And she liked it.
Chapter 17
Kadie thought about what Vaughan had said as she left the tavern. A mutiny? Was he serious? What a bloodbath that would be, vampire killing vampire. Would any of them, human or vampire, survive?
After getting into Saintcrow’s car, she sat there a minute, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. She didn’t want to go back to Saintcrow’s empty house and listen to the silence. It was too early for bed.
Putting the car in gear, she drove down Main Street, then turned right on Oak and drove through the residential area. Now that she was acquainted with where everyone lived, she knew that even though most of the houses were vacant, the people trapped here kept them in good repair. She hadn’t gotten to know the few men in town very well, but she had seen Jeremy and Carl mowing the yards and trimming the bushes of the empty homes. It gave them something to do, like working in the market kept Marti occupied. She wondered briefly where Saintcrow had taken Carl Freeman, and what Carl was doing now.
When she reached the end of the residential area, Kadie turned right and drove until the paved road ended. She switched off the ignition, then sat there, staring at the mountain. She had lost track of how long she’d been in Morgan Creek. Three weeks? A month? With no contact with the outside world, no newspapers, no calendars, how did anyone even know what year it was, let alone the date? She supposed you could count the years by the number of summers passing. Maybe even make your own calendar to keep track of the days and years. But what was the point?
Where was Saintcrow? Had he left Morgan Creek? What if some hunter had found him and destroyed him? Would the vampire mojo that kept them all trapped in the town be broken if he died?
Would she care if he was dead?
The answer was a resounding yes. For some insane reason, she had grown fond of him. More than fond. Maybe she just had a case of Stockholm syndrome. She had read newspaper accounts of hostages who had developed empathy for their captors, seen it in movies, and thought it highly unrealistic in spite of evidence to the contrary. Maybe it wasn’t as improbable as she had always imagined.
With a sigh, Kadie opened the door and stepped out of the car. Hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans, she walked toward the mountain. The night had turned cold. She gazed up at the sky, thinking about the vampires.
Vaughan had been here over forty years, but he still looked like a man in his prime. Saintcrow was over nine hundred years old and didn’t look a day over thirty. What was it like for Donna and Rosemary to have been here for so long, to watch themselves age while the supernatural creatures remained forever the same?
She couldn’t help wondering if the other men and women who had stumbled into this place had died of natural causes, or if they had been killed when they were no longer young, or when they got sick. Everyone she had met seemed healthy. She thought of Donna Stout. The woman was probably in her late sixties. It seemed obscene, somehow, for the vampires to feed on a woman old enough to be a grandmother. She thought again of Carl Freeman. He had been unable to endure living here any longer, had hoped to provoke Saintcrow into killing him. And it would have worked if Kadie hadn’t pleaded for his life. How many other people, desperate to escape this place, had provoked one of the vampires into killing them, or had taken their own lives?
She was thinking about going back to Saintcrow’s house when a subtle shift in the air warned her she was no longer alone. Hurrying toward the car, she reached for the door handle, only to have someone grab her from behind.
“So, what are you doing out here all alone?”
She cringed as she recognized Kiel’s voice.
“You’ve been driving me crazy.” His arm slid around her waist, holding her immobile while his free hand moved brazenly over her body, touching, squeezing, while his tongue licked the side of her neck.
Revulsion roiled in Kadie’s stomach. Frantic, she jabbed him with her elbow, stomped on his instep, but he quickly captured both her hands in his, then backed her up against the car, trapping her between the Corvette and his body.
“Saintcrow will kill you for this.” She was shaking so badly she was surprised she could speak.
“I’m willing to take my chances.”
“Don’t, please.”
“I’m tired of this stinking place. Tired of the others.”
She shrieked as his eyes went red, felt the bile rise in the back of her throat when his fangs scraped the skin of her neck, drawing blood.
“You taste even better than I thought you would.”
“No!” She struggled in his grasp, but it was futile. Helpless, she closed her eyes and tried to pray, but she didn’t know what to pray for. Rescue? Or death?
The decision was taken out of her hands when someone pulled Kiel away from her.
Afraid of what she might see, Kadie kept her eyes tightly closed.
She heard a terrible, high-pitched scream, a horrible sucking noise, and then silence.
“Kadie?”
“Saintcrow?” She opened her eyes, felt her knees go weak with relief when she saw him standing in front of her.
“Are you all right?”
“You lied!” She glared at him, her body trembling. “You told me no one would bother me. That they would smell you on me and I’d be safe.”
“He’ll never touch you again.”
She glanced past Saintcrow, but there was no sign of the other vampire.
She didn’t ask what had happened to her attacker.
She really didn’t want to know.
She was still shaking when Saintcrow took her home.
A short time later, Saintcrow stood in the doorway of the living room, his arms folded over his chest. Regarding Kadie through hooded eyes, he asked, “What were you doing out there alone?”
“I was bored.”
She was sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a warm blanket, a cup of hot tea clasped in her hands. She couldn’t stop shaking.
