Night's Master. Amanda Ashley

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      With a smile, Susie gathered up her books and her brood and left the shop.

      I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to seven. Since Raphael was only taking me out for a drink, I had eaten a late lunch. But even if I hadn’t, I was much too nervous to think about food.

      I turned off the outside lights, locked the cash drawer, then went into the back room to change my shoes. I didn’t hear the bell over the door ring, but I knew the moment Raphael arrived. I’m not sure how I knew. Women’s intuition, a change in the atmosphere, a sudden internal awareness, I don’t know. I just knew he was there, the same way I had known that he was a Vampire.

      I ran a hand over my hair, took a deep breath, and made my way toward the front of the store.

      Cordova turned to face me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Lordy, the man was breathtaking! He wore a white shirt open at the throat, black slacks, and boots. His hair gleamed blue-black in the overhead light.

      I felt a blush warm my cheeks as his gaze moved over me, the look in his eyes telling me he liked what he saw.

      “Good evening, Miss McKenna.”

      “You might as well call me Kathy,” I suggested somewhat breathlessly.

      “Kathy.”

      The sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine, made me think of warm bodies intimately entwined on cool satin sheets. Maybe letting him call me by my given name wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I touched the crucifix at my throat to give me strength.

      Raphael observed the gesture with a wry grin. “The belief that crosses scare off Vampires is an old wives’ tale,” he remarked. “In any event, it isn’t the cross that wards off the Vampire, but the wearer’s belief in the power of good over evil.”

      “I didn’t know that.”

      “And then you have to ask yourself, what if he’s Jewish or Hindu?”

      I folded my arms under my breasts. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

      He shook his head. “Not really. In any case, if you feel the need to wear one, it should be silver.”

      “What difference does that make?”

      “Silver burns Vampire flesh, gold does not. Not only that, but silver renders us powerless if we’re bound with it.”

      I filed that bit of useful information away for future reference.

      “Are you ready to go?” He glanced at the crucifix again. “Or have you changed your mind?”

      “I haven’t changed my mind,” I said. “Just give me a minute to lock up.”

      He followed me to the door, waited on the sidewalk while I turned off the interior lights and set the alarm.

      After I slipped my keys into my handbag, he offered me his arm in a rather courtly gesture and walked me to his car, something sleek and black that looked like it was going a hundred miles an hour even when it was parked at the curb.

      He opened the door for me, and I sank into a rich black leather seat that automatically contoured itself to my size and shape. A deep breath carried the rich new-car scent to my nostrils.

      My heartbeat kicked up a notch at the thought of being alone in the car with a Vampire. What on earth was I thinking? I had only lived in Oak Hollow a short time, and I didn’t really know anyone. If I never came back, would anybody even notice?

      Raphael slid behind the wheel in a sinuous movement, started the car with a touch of his hand, and pulled away from the curb. Late-model cars, like most computers, could be operated by verbal command or manually. I wasn’t surprised that Raphael opted for hands-on control.

      I tried to think of something witty to say to break the silence between us, but my mind had gone blank.

      Raphael drove with one arm resting on the edge of the open window, his right hand draped negligently over the steering wheel. I felt a shiver of unease as he turned off Main Street and onto the highway.

      “Are you new to our fair metropolis?” he asked.

      “You could say that. I moved here a little over a month ago.”

      “Where did you live before you came here?”

      “New York.”

      “Ah. Oak Hollow must be quite a change from the big city.”

      “Quite,” I agreed with a smile. “So, are you still enjoying Montgomery’s work?”

      “Very much. I like his voice, the way he turns a phrase. And the fact that I can’t always figure out who the murderer is by page three.”

      “That’s why I like him, too,” I said with a laugh.

      I felt a shiver of unease as Raphael pulled off the highway, turned left at the first street corner, and then made a right onto a narrow dirt road. Stately trees lined both sides of the road, their graceful branches intertwining to form a kind of leafy tunnel. There were no streetlights here, no lights at all until he pulled up in front of a large, rectangular building built of shimmering black stone. The name of the place did nothing to ease my anxiety.

      The Stygian Way.

      Raphael parked the car in a reserved space in the front, then came around to open my door. Offering me his hand, he helped me out of the car.

      A tall, slender man dressed in a black suit and tie stood at the club’s entrance. Nodding at Raphael, he opened one of the carved double doors, and I had my first look at The Stygian Way.

      I guess surprise sums up my reaction best. I’m not sure what my expectations had been, but the nightclub exceeded them all. Black leather booths lined one wall; small tables covered with pristine white cloths were scattered around the gray and black tiled floor. A crystal vase holding one perfect red rose adorned each table. Dozens of candles filled the room with a soft, warm glow. A long bar made of gold-veined black granite ran the length of the back wall. Glass shelves held an array of sparkling crystal goblets and snifters and stemware.

      A young woman wearing a long red dress and a ruffled black apron hurried toward us. “Right this way, my lord,” she said with a slight bow.

      My lord, I thought. Good grief!

      Raphael inclined his head in greeting, and we followed the waitress to a booth in the far corner. I sat down and he slid in beside me, making me feel suddenly like a very small rabbit that had stumbled into the den of a very large, hungry wolf.

      Raphael ordered a bottle of red wine that I knew sold for as much as sixty dollars a bottle.

      I asked for a glass of 7UP with a cherry.

      He lifted one dark brow. “You prefer a soft drink to fine wine?”

      I shrugged. “I’ve never been much of a drinker.”

      “Afraid I’m going to get you intoxicated СКАЧАТЬ