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“Bien au contraire. You belong to me now.”
Those words…. His entire body rang like a struck gong with the memory of the last time he heard them. Back then he didn’t know what they meant, what nightmares they implied. Now he did.
Without a conscious decision to do so, Dominique hurled himself at the nearest window. It exploded on impact, and a hundred razor edges sliced his clothes and skin as he flew past, out into the night. In a cascade of glittering shards, he bounced off a passing SUV’s roof. Tires screeched and the stink of hot rubber rose as he dropped to the asphalt and rolled into the path of a neon purple sports car. One tire caught his boot; the wet crack of bone followed. He barely saved his knee from shattering, too, by scrambling away despite the blinding pain in his foot.
Within seconds, the agony dulled. By then he was already moving down the sidewalk, bloodied and tattered, teeth grinding with resolve, hobbling at first, running moments later, away from the mental pull trying to reel him back to her side—and back into the past.
12
Leap of Faith
Eddie was a cat, Cassidy told herself as she stared out the window at the bougainvillea beneath which she and Samantha had made his grave. A big, lovable, opinionated lug of a cat that had died too young and in terror rather than in her loving arms at the end of a long and happy life, but…a cat. What was that, really, compared to watching her mother’s lingering death in the clutches of an aggressive cancer? At least Eddie had died quickly.
And yet, grief flooded her from every direction. Grief, not just for Eddie, but also for the family she once had and thought she might have again; for the dreams that had disappeared with the people she’d lost; and for—she closed her eyes and let the tears come—Dominique. For what they had shared, the forever bond that had disintegrated in a matter of months, along with her hard-fought-for sense of security.
Down the hall, the toilet flushed, and Cassidy quickly swiped at her wet cheeks. Samantha had all but moved in to dote on her, feed her, distract her, and no doubt surreptitiously monitor her sanity.
When Samantha returned to the living room, the worry wrinkle between her brows deepened again. Cassidy forced a smile. “Just a spell. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll make us some snacks. Or would you prefer soup? Or a sandwich?” she added hopefully. Cassidy had barely touched food in two days.
“Just snacks is fine.”
“Coming right up.” She headed for the kitchen. “Why don’t you pick the next movie?”
Cassidy glanced at the streaming remote. They had watched two films already this afternoon. Or was it three? She couldn’t remember any of them. The action just blurred past without meaning. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. “You know what, Sam? If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go lie down.”
Samantha’s head popped around the edge of the fridge to give her a probing look. “But of course. You go upstairs. I’ll make some lavender mint tea and bring it up in a bit with some biscuits.”
Cassidy wanted to argue, but then realized she didn’t have the energy. “Thanks.” Halfway up the stairs, she sensed a feline presence by her feet and looked down. Eddie wasn’t there. He never would be again. She grabbed the banister rail and battled a fresh surge of grief. Oh, Eddie.
A sharp knock at the door made her flinch.
“I’ll get that,” Samantha called.
Cassidy clutched the rail with both hands now. It was dusk out. Soon, the vampires would surface. In fact, one already had.
Samantha opened the door. “Hi, sweetie. You’re up early tonight.”
Cassidy checked the windows. There was still plenty of light in the sky, the sun barely down.
Serge squinted and squirmed in his paler-than-usual skin. Sand dusted his face and drizzled out of his clothes and hair with every movement. He must have crawled out of his den only seconds ago and come straight here.
Her heart sank. Oh, that can’t be good.
“Come with me,” he told Cassidy without preamble.
“I really don’t—”
“Come with me now.”
She clomped back down the stairs. “Compulsion? Really?”
“Dominique needs you.”
The fog of apathy lifted a little. Knowing better than to ask for details, she took a sweater off the hooks behind the door and stuffed her feet into a pair of canvas slip-ons.
Ordering Samantha to stay put, Serge grabbed Cassidy’s hand and hustled her out the door, toward the dune.
