Night's Master. Amanda Ashley

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      “Come for another book, did you?” I asked ungraciously.

      “As a matter of fact, I did,” he replied with a faint smile.

      “Don’t tell me you finished the other one already.” Montgomery novels tended to be long; his newest book was almost nine hundred pages.

      Cordova nodded.

      “What are you, a speed reader?”

      “Not exactly,” he replied with a wry grin, “but sometimes the nights can be long.”

      I was tempted to say, “no kidding,” but I restrained myself. “I guess you enjoyed it.”

      “Yes, very much, which is why I’m here. I’d like to buy everything he’s written.”

      “You might want to narrow that down a little,” I said drily. “Jordan Montgomery has written something like fifty books in the last twenty years.”

      “I’ll take whatever you have on hand,” Raphael said. “And please order me the rest.”

      “You don’t have to buy all those books just because you feel sorry for me,” I said waspishly. “And you didn’t have to tell your friends to come in here, either.”

      “Ah,” he murmured, a guilty smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Don’t tell me they all came tonight?”

      “I don’t know about that, since I don’t know how many you asked to show up,” I replied, and then, as my exasperation faded, I wondered what was going on that there were so many Vampires in town at one time, which made me wonder if that meant an equal number of Werewolves were also prowling the dark streets. The thought sent a cold chill slithering down my spine.

      I glanced out the window, wondering if the moon was full, and if it was safe to walk home now that the town was full of Vampires and Werewolves. Funny that they were enemies. You’d think they would go hunting together, I thought morbidly, since one drank blood and the other devoured flesh.

      “Miss McKenna?”

      “What? Oh, right, the books.” I walked toward the back of the store where the mysteries were shelved, acutely aware that Raphael was following me. I wasn’t sure I liked having a Vampire, even a remarkably sexy, handsome one, at my back. Or anywhere else in the vicinity, for that matter.

      I had sixteen of Montgomery’s backlist in stock, all in hardback. Assuming Cordova read a book a night, I figured I wouldn’t be seeing him again for a couple of weeks. The thought left me feeling curiously depressed, but I told myself it was a good thing. After all, who needs a Vampire hanging around?

      He helped me carry the books to the front of the store, then handed me his credit card. I stared at it for a moment. Somehow, I had never imagined that Vampires carried credit cards. Apparently, I had a lot to learn about the ways and means of the Undead.

      I quickly rang up the books and gave him a copy of the receipt to sign. His signature was a bold scrawl across the bottom of the paper.

      I loaded the books into four shopping bags and pushed them across the counter. “Happy reading.”

      “Thank you.” He started to turn away, then hesitated. “Would you care to have dinner with me some evening?”

      I stared at him, my mind filling with images of Raphael Cordova bending over me, his fangs poised at my throat. “No, I don’t think so.”

      “I didn’t ask you to be dinner,” he said with a knowing grin. “But if the thought of dining with me makes you uncomfortable, perhaps we could go out for a drink.” He held up a hand, silencing the protest he must have read in my eyes. “No blood involved.”

      As much as I hated to admit it, I was tempted. I hadn’t been out on a date in almost six months. I didn’t know anyone else in town. And Raphael Cordova intrigued me more than any man I had ever met. But still…what was the point in dating a Vampire? I opened my mouth to say, “No, thank you,” so you can imagine my surprise when I heard myself say, “Yes, I’d like that.”

      “Tomorrow night, perhaps?”

      “All right.” Tomorrow was Thursday. I closed the shop at seven during the week, at nine on Fridays and Saturdays. I was closed on Sundays, like every other business in town except for the gas station/mini-mart located over on Ninth Street, which was open 24-7.

      “Shall I pick you up here, or at your home?”

      “Here will be fine,” I said, uncomfortable at the thought of letting a Vampire know where I lived.

      “Until tomorrow night, then.” He smiled at me, then left the store.

      I stared after him, wondering what I was getting myself into.

      Chapter Three

      I woke up Thursday morning feeling jittery inside, a condition that grew steadily worse with each passing tick of the clock. I took a long shower, spent half an hour applying my makeup and doing my hair, and another twenty minutes trying to decide what to wear. Since Raphael was picking me up at the store, I wouldn’t have time to come home and change for our date later. In the end, I settled on a pair of white slacks and a green turtleneck sweater that made my eyes look a shade darker than they were. I wondered if Raphael liked green eyes. The word Vampire whispered through my mind, sending me to my jewelry box where I kept a gold crucifix, not because I was Catholic, but because crosses were supposed to repel Vampires. I had worn it constantly in New York, but it hadn’t seemed necessary here in Oak Hollow until I met Raphael.

      I fastened the chain around my neck, then took a last look in the mirror, wishing my hair was curly and black instead of long and straight and blond. I slipped into my comfy work shoes, grabbed a pair of white high-heeled sandals to change into for my date with the Undead, scooped up my handbag and my keys, and headed to the bookstore.

      To my surprise, I had several ordinary customers that afternoon.

      One of them, Susie McGee, was the down-to-earth, outgoing, friendly type. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face, short, dark curly hair, bright blue eyes, and a harried expression. She was about five feet three inches tall, making her two inches shorter than I was. After she paid for her purchases, she lingered at the counter.

      “This is a great place,” she said, looking around. “We’ve needed a bookstore for donkey’s years, but we’re not really big enough to interest a Barnes & Noble or a Borders, you know?”

      I nodded, keeping one eye on her three boys, who were playing hide-and-seek in the aisles. They were cute kids. I estimated they were all under the age of seven. They all had their mother’s dark curly hair and blue eyes. After twenty minutes of watching them run around my store, I knew why their mother looked stressed out.

      “I just love to read,” Susie went on. “After a day of looking after my monsters, I need a little time to myself. Of course, the only place I can be by myself is in the bathroom. I call it my reading room,” she said with a laugh, and then she sighed. “Honestly, the only time I have to call my own is on the john. Or in the tub. Well, listen to me, running on like that. I’d best be going. Bobby, you stop pulling your brother’s hair! Jeremy, put that bear back on the shelf.” She СКАЧАТЬ