Night's Master

Susie stared at me, blinked twice, and then, to my astonishment, she burst out laughing. “I sure hope I don't get both curses at the same time of the month! Can you imagine a Werewolf with PMS?”



I looked at Susie, and then I laughed with her, because I knew she was going to be all right.



It was a little before eleven when I made it to the store that morning. Surprisingly, I was busy all day. And I was glad of it. I didn't want time to think about Susie's future as a Werewolf, or what my future with Rafe might be.



Even though most of the Vampires and Werewolves had left town, at least for the moment, I decided it would still be a good idea to close at dusk from now on so I could be safely home by dark.



With that thought in mind, I turned off the lights, set the alarm, and headed for my car just before sunset. I was punching in the code to unlock the door when a hand closed over my forearm.



I shrieked and jerked away.



“Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”



“Travis!” I pressed a hand over my pounding heart. “Are you out of your mind? What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?”



I wanted to smack him when he laughed.



“Sorry,” he said again. “I was hoping we could go out for a drink.”



“Didn't we already cover this?”



“Come on,” he coaxed. “One drink. What can it hurt?”



“Oh, all right. I'll meet you at Sugar Babe's.”



“Great.”



With a shake of my head, I got into my car. I sat there for a minute, waiting for my heart to stop pounding, and then I drove the six blocks to Sugar Babe's Tavern. It was the only place within the city limits where you could legally buy mixed drinks. Even though it was still early, the place was crowded. I paused just inside the door to wait for Travis. A three-piece band occupied the small stage at the far end of the room. Saturday night was open mic night at Sugar Babe's, and anyone who had a mind to could step up on stage and entertain the customers. I winced as the lanky singer making love to the microphone hit three sour notes in a row. Several boos and catcalls filled the air, but the man kept on singing, his gaze focused on a skinny redhead who was looking at him as if he might be the next Elvis.



When Travis arrived, we threaded our way through the crowd looking for an empty table. Luck was with us. A couple vacated a table for two near the back wall as we approached. I sat down, and Travis dropped into the chair across from mine.



“What'll you have?” he asked.



“Just a Coke with a couple of cherries.”



“That's it?”



“I don't drink.”



“All right. Looks like there's only one waitress working. Might be faster if I go over to the bar and get our drinks. Don't let anyone else have my seat,” he said with a wink.



I made a face at him, then blew out a sigh. It felt good to sit down. A couple of women in their early twenties were on stage now. They wore white off-the-shoulder blouses, full skirts, and cowboy boots. I listened as they broke into their rendition of the latest country hit, but my mind wasn't on the music. Instead, I was thinking about Rafe, wondering where he was, what he was doing, and if he would come by my place later.



As if my thoughts had conjured him, he suddenly appeared in Travis's chair.



I pressed a hand to my heart, wondering if I was going to survive the night. One more unexpected surprise just might do me in.



“Rafe, what are you doing here?”



“You're here,” he said in that seductively masculine voice that sent tendrils of longing shooting through me. “Where else should I be?”



“Not here!” I glanced toward the bar where Travis seemed to be in deep conversation with another man. “Not now.”



He reached for my hand and covered it with his own. “Why not now?”



“Because I'm…” I started to say “on a date,” but I didn't like the sound of that. Besides, this wasn't a date, it was just a drink with a casual acquaintance. “Because there's a hunter here.”



His eyes narrowed as he turned to survey the crowd.



Did Rafe have an ability similar to Travis Jackson's? Could hunter and prey recognize each other the way lions recognized zebras and coyotes recognized rabbits?



“Come on,” I said, “let's go.”



Rafe's gaze met mine. “You haven't had your drink yet.”



I cringed at the accusation I read in the depths of his eyes. He knew why I was here, and whom I was with. I wondered if he had done that little turn-to-mist trick of his and followed me.



“Rafe, it doesn't mean anything. He invited me for a drink, that's all, and I…I didn't see any harm in it.”



He didn't say anything, just continued to look at me.



“I'm sorry,” I said, though I wasn't sure what I was sorry for.



“You've got nothing to apologize for,” he replied. “Enjoy your evening.”



Before I could say anything else, he was gone.



Moments later, Travis returned to the table. “Where'd he go?”



“Where did who go?”



“The Vampire that was here.” Travis put our drinks on the table, his narrow-eyed gaze scanning the crowd.



I widened my eyes in what I hoped was a look of innocence. “There was a Vampire here? Really? Where?”



“Here,” Travis said, his voice tight. “You were talking to him.”



“Oh, him,” I said lightly. “He was just a guy who asked me to dance, that's all. Was he really a Vampire?” I glanced around the room, as if I was afraid. “Is he still here?”



Travis looked at me suspiciously for stretched seconds before he sat down. “No, he's long gone by now.”



“Good.” I reached for my drink, wishing I had ordered something stronger than a Coke.



I was thoroughly depressed by the time I got home, by turns angry with Rafe for being so possessive and for checking up on me, and then angry with myself for apologizing for what was a perfectly innocent evening, and then feeling blue because it seemed like the fabric of our relationship was slowly unraveling.



I was too upset to eat dinner; instead, I curled up on the sofa, a pillow clutched to my chest, and thought about Rafe.



I wasn't sure what had drawn us together other than great chemistry and the inability to keep our hands off each other. I told myself yet again that there was no future in dating a Vampire, even one as mouthwatering as Rafe Cordova. At best, we might have had a few years together. At worst, I might have become one of the Undead.



With a sigh, I hugged the pillow closer, thinking that a few years with Rafe would have been better than a lifetime with anyone else, even though I knew that staying with him wasn't a good idea. Sooner or later, we would have made love. Given his effect on my senses and the way I felt about him, it was inevitable, only I wasn't sure I wanted to give my virginity to a Vampire, even a gorgeous, sexy Vampire.



More depressed than ever, I brushed my teeth and went to bed.



There, alone in the dark, I buried my face in my pillow and let the tears flow.



Chapter Eighteen



Feeling out of sorts after his meeting with Kathy, Rafe went to Susie McGee's house to see his grandparents, who were standing watch. He found them sitting on the grass in the side yard, playing gin rummy by the light of the moon.



“Raphael, what brings you here?” his grandmother asked. “Is something wrong?”



He dropped down beside her. “No, I was just…bored.”



His grandfather grunted softly. “Sometimes the nights can be long.”



“But beautiful,” Brenna remarked. “Just look at that sky.”



Rafe looked up. Mortal eyesight was limited, but he could see millions of stars scattered across the heavens. For all the years that he had been a Vampire, he had rarely taken notice of the skies.



“How is that lovely girl?” Brenna asked. “What was her name? Kathy?”



“She's fine,” Rafe replied flatly.



“Oh, dear,” Brenna said. “You've had a fight, haven't you?”



“Not exactly.” He blew out a sigh.



“What, exactly?”



“She doesn't want me.”



“Is it you she doesn't want?” Roshan asked. “Or what you are?”



“She doesn't want to be a Vampire.”



Brenna made a soft, thoughtful sound. “Did you ask her to become one?”



“No, I asked her if she wanted to marry me. She said she loved me, but…” He shrugged as if it didn't matter one way or the other. “Not enough, I guess.”



“It's not an easy decision to make,” Roshan said. “Maybe she just needs more time. After all, you've only known her a few weeks.”



“Your grandfather's right, as always,” Brenna said. “Did you tell her she doesn't have to become one of us?”



“Yes.”



“Are you going to see her again?” Roshan asked.



“I don't know. She wants us to go on like before, but…” Rafe dragged a hand over his jaw. “I don't know. It might be best for both of us to end it now, before things get any more complicated.”



“You love her, don't you?” Brenna asked, though it was more a statement than a question.



“Yeah, dammit.”



Roshan laughed softly. “Love makes fools of us all.”



“Listen!” Brenna said. “What's that?”



Rafe stood, his senses probing the night. And then he heard it: footsteps, followed by the sound of the McGees' garage door opening. Moving toward the corner of the house, he saw Rick McGee get into his car and back out of the driveway.



“I thought he moved out,” Rafe remarked.



“He came by a few hours ago. Brought the kids for a visit,” Roshan said, coming up behind Rafe.



“Where do you suppose he's going this time of night?”



“I don't know,” Roshan said. “He doesn't have the kids with him. What do you say we go find out? Brenna, you stay here and keep an eye on the girl and her mother.”