Dead Sexy. Amanda Ashley

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СКАЧАТЬ felt his fangs brush his tongue as an old and familiar hatred rose within him. But for Vasile, Marishka would be at his side, as she was meant to be. The Gypsy girl had been his first love, his only love, in all his long years of existence.

      He closed his eyes and let her image rise to the surface—tall and slender, with deep brown eyes and ebony hair that fell in thick waves past her hips. Marishka had been his first and only fledgling. She had been but seventeen when, on a foolish whim, he had brought her across. He had immediately had second thoughts about what he had done. He had, however briefly, considered destroying her before she rose the next night, but there had been something about her, some intangible quality, that had stayed his hand, and then it was too late. The bond between them had grown stronger with each night they had spent together. He had loved her as he had loved no other, had planned to show her the world and all the wonders it contained. It had been a wonderful dream, one that had lasted less than a year. A dream that had died a violent and bloody death one bleak wintry afternoon…

      The sound of screeching tires and the smell of fear on the wind chased the distant past from Santiago’s mind and brought him back to the present.

      He recognized the car and the woman’s scent immediately. A heartbeat later, Vasile’s stink was borne to him on the wings of an errant breeze.

      A thought took Santiago to the edge of the park and the curb beyond.

      He was waiting for her when the driver’s side door flew open and Regan spilled out in a rush.

      “Slow down, girl,” Santiago admonished, capturing her in his embrace. “I have you.”

      She glanced over her shoulder. “Someone’s following me! I’m sure of it.”

      “You are safe now.” He tried to ignore the rapid beat of her heart, the scent of her blood, but it was impossible. Still, this was not the time to ponder what it would be like to drink of her sweetness, to carry her to his lair and possess her, fully and completely.

      Using one hand, Santiago thrust Regan behind him, his gaze focused on the silver-gray Mercedes that was cruising slowly past the park. Due to the dark tint on the windows, Santiago knew Regan couldn’t see the man behind the wheel, but Santiago saw the driver clearly enough. It was Vasile, just as he had known it would be.

      Santiago’s grip tightened on Regan’s forearm, but his gaze never left Vasile’s.

      You will not have this one, Santiago vowed, and knew in that moment that Regan Delaney had come to mean far more to him than he had ever intended. But then, so had Marishka. Knowing her, loving her, he had planned to spend the rest of his existence with her. Until Vasile found their lair…

      “Santiago, you’re hurting me.”

      Regan’s voice chased all thought of Marishka from his mind. He murmured an apology as he released her.

      “Was that him?” Regan glanced at her arm. His grip had left a red imprint on her skin. There would be a bruise there tomorrow. “Was that the werewolf?”

      He nodded curtly. “Vasile, yes.”

      “Why is he following me?”

      Santiago’s gaze rested on her face. “Believe me, you do not want to know.”

      She started to argue with him until she saw the taut line of his jaw, the feral expression in his eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t want to know.

      “I think you would be wise to spend the night here, with me,” Santiago remarked.

      Before she could protest, he was taking hold of her arm again, leading her across the sidewalk and into the park’s silent shadows.

      The hair prickled along Regan’s nape as they entered the grounds. A number of men and women, most of them dressed in black from head to foot, strolled through the park or sat on the benches scattered along the walkways. It was like a scene from some bizarre dream, seeing the vampires moving through the park in the middle of the night. She reminded herself that no matter how odd it seemed to her, the night was their day. Sometimes, on summer evenings, mortals paused on the sidewalk, their eyes wide with curiosity or narrowed in morbid fascination as they watched the vampires.

      Santiago’s apartment was on the top floor of a five-story building. He opened the door with a wave of his hand and then stood aside so she could precede him.

      She jumped when she heard the door close behind her. She was alone in a vampire’s apartment, and no one knew she was there.

      She turned to face Santiago, her heart pounding so hard and so fast she was surprised it didn’t burst out of her chest.

      “Afraid of me?” His voice was deep and rich and faintly mocking.

      Hands clenched at her sides, she lifted her chin. “Yes.”

      His easy laughter filled the room. “Please.” He gestured at a high-backed brown sofa. “Consider my home yours.”

      She sat down because she wasn’t sure her legs would support her much longer. What was she doing here? What made her think being in here, with a vampire, particularly this vampire, was any safer than being outside, with a werewolf? They were both predators. And in the dark of the night, she was prey—for both of them.

      Santiago loomed over her, tall, dark, and deadly. The words moved through the back of Regan’s mind like a death knell. His mere presence made her feel small, insignificant, and defenseless. She knew all about vampires. She had studied them for years. She knew they grew stronger with age and that most of the things people believed about them were based on myth, legend, and the Transylvanian count made famous by Bram Stoker, and had little basis in fact.

      Some things were true. They could change shape. They could travel faster than the human eye could follow. They drank blood to survive. Fire, sunlight, and beheading could destroy them. Silver and holy water burned their skin like acid.

      She had yet to meet a vampire who was repelled by a cross, or one who cast no reflection. To the contrary, they seemed to love mirrors and never missed an opportunity to stop and admire themselves.

      Of course, she hadn’t met all that many of the Undead on a social basis, and certainly none quite like the one who was towering over her.

      “It is late,” he said. “You should get some sleep.”

      “Not here.” She glanced around the room, wondering where his coffin was. She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t sleep here. No way!

      “You will be perfectly safe, Regan Delaney,” he said quietly. “Much safer than you would be at home.”

      “Now why don’t I believe that?”

      “You have nothing to fear from me. I have already dined. The bedroom is in there.”

      “Isn’t that where you sleep?”

      “No.” Removing his coat, he tossed it over the back of a chair. “I would not leave here in the morning if I were you.”

      She frowned. “Why not?”

      “He is a werewolf.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ