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Dominique squeezed his eyes shut as a chill welled in his innards. Not any human, no, but one particular one—his mortal enemy, Jackson Striker, vampire hunter. If anyone had the resources to locate and reach Kambyses in the daytime, it was Jackson. Considering the circumstances, Jackson might even be willing to do so. Given what Dominique knew of the unscrupulous Striker tactics, however, he would be a target in this bargain as well, and Cassidy could easily end up as collateral damage. Losing his own life, he could accept. Losing her…
Fear. It seized him by the throat again, coiled around him like a python, squeezed until his bones ached.
Just when Dominique thought he might slip into an eternal paralysis, the oddest sound reached him—wild whoops of joy.
Reluctantly, he uncurled and pulled back the sheer curtain from the nearest window. Beyond the shadowy hump of the dune, the clouds began to shred, and ragged lines of waves rushed ashore in sporadic patches of starlight. Pitching from one foaming crest to the next was a lone sail.
The canvas bulged with wind as the tiny catamaran plowed ahead, a three-hundred-year-old pirate at the helm.
23
Seeking Connection
Cassidy smiled as she walked through the glorious meadow. Dominique stood up ahead, waiting for her, sunlight striking blue sparks in his raven hair. Seeing him made the ground sway beneath her feet. Giddy with joy, she ran toward him, wanting only to throw herself into his arms and be safe there forever.
Though he didn’t move, his figure receded farther into the distance. She ran harder, becoming breathless, a vague sense of dread pushing her along. Clumps of grass grabbed at her whirling feet. He was just a silhouette now, raising his hand, reaching for something. A flair of blinding light obscured him.
“Dominique, wait! Wait for me!”
He was gone.
“Dominique!”
Her desperate cry still rang in her ears when her eyes snapped open and devastating reality rushed in. No pristine meadow surrounded her, but an exquisitely appointed bedroom. The blazing sunshine of moments ago was now the mellow glow of hidden light strips, and instead of warm grass and damp earth, the sweet pungency of cedar smoke wafted in the air.
Cassidy’s hand shook as she touched her clammy forehead and forced herself to remember how she got here, into this bed, wearing—she patted her chest and peered down—a red satin and lace negligee? She sat up and tried to focus. That girl, Monica, had given her this to sleep in. There had also been a scrumptious steak dinner and all the fine wine she wanted in…a dining salon on this…this…boat?
No. Yacht. Out at sea. Which is why everything moved in a gentle, rolling motion.
“But why am I here?” she said, hoping to jog her memory.
The answer came in a softly resonant voice that brought everything back to her in a violent rush. “You are my guest.”
She scanned the room, only to find the bastard actually in bed with her. Shocked, she froze, staring.
He lay on his belly, one knee drawn up, his head turned to the side, facing her, his cheek resting on a forearm. The long, sable hair was unbound and partially obscured his face. It draped over his shoulders and back, across chalk-white skin. The black slacks still hugged his hips and legs, but he had dispensed with his shoes along with his shirt.
Cassidy sucked in a breath. The only thing worse than finding Kambyses half-naked in bed with her would have been to find him there completely naked. She tried to recall what Dominique shared with her about very old vampires. He didn’t think the males could consummate a physical relationship because, without a heartbeat, they had no blood pressure with which to operate the required anatomy. Sex for them was limited to second-hand experiences by feeding from humans in the throes of lust. She prayed this was true.
She also prayed she wouldn’t be forced to provide that second-hand experience. Her current situation and state of undress did not bode well.
Grabbing a sheet, she pulled it up to her neck, and eased toward the edge of the bed as if that would make any sort of difference. Her voice shook only a little. “Your guest? I don’t remember accepting an invitation.”
He peered at her with one unblinking eye in which the pupil threatened to consume all the white.
She steeled herself. “Where’s Dominique?” Nothing. “Did you leave him there for the sun to find?” Good God, how did she forget all this during the day and believe she was on a mere leisure cruise with Monica, her new bestie? This was one hell of a powerful compulsion. And the only reason she was aware of it now was because Kambyses permitted her to be aware.
He sat up and pushed that magnificent skein of hair away from his face. His skin was almost translucent; she could see ribbons of indigo veins spider along his jaw and temple, and wrap around his joints. Grabbing the back of his neck, he tilted his head as though stretching out a kink. The gesture was so human it startled her as much as it reassured her. Or was that him somehow compelling her again?
His mouth curved in a tiny, indulgent smile. “I prefer you like this. I wish to experience your true self.”
“What have you done with Dominique?” she tried again, her true self not liking where this conversation was going.
“Nothing of consequence.”
“Other than turning him into something he doesn’t want to be, of course.”
“He has much to learn of what he is.”
