Page 78 of Twilight Longings

“She’s threatening Kadie. If it were any other vampire, it wouldn’t be a problem, but Eleni was ancient when she turned me.”

“Yeah.”

Kincaid had killed his sire. Saintcrow grunted softly, wondering if destroying Eleni was the only way to protect Kadie. Wondering if he had the power to do it. The idea of killing a woman didn’t sit well with him, even though this particular woman was older and more powerful than any female he knew.

“You’re welcome to drink from me any time,” Jake said. “You know that. But if you’re looking for some added kick, what about Izabela?”

“Izabela? Witch blood? Are you insane?”

Jake shrugged. “So, it tastes like shit and burns like acid, but it’ll give you a high like nothing else.”

Saintcrow nodded. He had unknowingly preyed on a young witch centuries ago when he was still a fledgling. It was something he’d never forgotten. He had been on a high for days, his preternatural power as strong as if he’d been a vampire for hundreds of years instead of merely a decade.

“You should ask her,” Kincaid said. “All she can do is say no.”

“That’s not all she can do,” Saintcrow said with a wry grin. “But, hell, with all the blood I’ve given her, the least she can do is give me a little of hers in return.”

Saintcrow decided to take a stroll through the town before returning home. Walking down the street, he nodded to those he passed by. He recognized a few of the men and women who spent their vacations here every year. He often wondered what his guests would think if they knew the town was owned and operated by a pair of vampires, or that the crosses and headstones in the cemetery weren’t merely for atmosphere but the actual resting places of real people who had died in the town, some of them killed by vampires decades ago.

He sighed heavily when he saw Eleni coming out of one of the gift shops.

“What a nice surprise,” she purred, as she fell into step beside him.

Saintcrow jerked his chin at the small sack in her hand. “Buying a souvenir?”

She laughed, genuinely amused. “Of course. I want to have something to remind me of the place where you paid your debt.”

She was as tenacious as a bulldog, he thought bleakly.

“A bulldog? Really? That isn’t very flattering.” She ran her fingertips down his arm. “I would like to bite you, though.”

“You can bite me to your heart’s content,” he replied. “But I’m not taking you to bed.”

“Fine. I’ll take you.”

Before he could reply, she had transported them to one of the luxury suites in the hotel.

“A lovely room, don’t you think?” she asked. “We could order room service and share the young man who delivers it.”

“I’ll thank you not to prey on the help,” Saintcrow muttered.

“You’re no fun at all,” she said, with a pout.

“That’s right. Now, I’m going home. Why don’t you do the same?” He regretted the words instantly, but it was too late to take them back.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed ominously. “I’d rather we made love,” she said, her voice as cold as the grave. And then she smiled. “But, as you know, I also enjoy causing pain.”

Her power slammed into him with the last word. It drove him to his knees. A wave of her hand shredded his shirt. Her nails opened a wicked gash down his left arm from shoulder to wrist. Teeth clamped against the pain, he glared at her, unable to move as she knelt beside him and lapped up the blood.

Damn! He hadn’t seen that coming. If he survived this, he was going to pay another visit to Kincaid. And then Izabela.

Rising with effortless grace, Eleni licked a bit of blood from her lips. “Maybe next time, I’ll take it all,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “And then have that pretty little mortal for dessert.”

And with that ominous threat hanging in the air, she vanished from the room.

Saintcrow remained where he was until he had a tight rein on his anger, then he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and called Housekeeping. “This is Saintcrow. There’s been an accident in Suite Four. Some blood on the rug. Send somebody up here right away to take care of it.”

Ending the call, he rose to his feet and went into the bathroom to wash the blood she’d missed from his arm. The gash had already healed. His shirt was beyond saving, so herolled it into a tight ball, dumped it in the trash, and willed himself home.

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