Night's Surrender (21 page)

“If you want to be a vampire, honey, I'm your go-to guy.”

“I didn't say I want to be turned. I just wanted to know if you thought I'd like it.”

He shook his head, his expression pensive as his hand idly stroked up and down her back. “I honestly don't know. On the plus side, my blood is ancient, which means you'd be powerful from the get-go. After a month or so, you'd be able to be awake during the day, although you might have to stay out of direct sunlight for a time. It would definitely heighten your senses,” he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “All of them.”

She scowled at him. “Pervert.”

“Hey, you're the one who brought it up.”

“But the blood . . .” She grimaced. “How do you ever get used to that?” A few sips of Nick's blood was one thing, but to drink enough to survive . . . yuck!

Nick shook his head. “I can't believe you never discussed any of this with your folks. Weren't you curious when you were a little girl?”

“Well, no, not really. My mom was human then and she made excuses for why my dad slept late and why he didn't eat with us. And when I was old enough to understand . . .” She shrugged. “I don't know. The blood. Tell me about the blood.”

“When you're a vampire, drinking blood is normal. Natural.”

“Hmm. I don't know. Giving up chocolate and pasta and bread and ice cream for a warm-liquid diet . . .” Abbey shook her head. “I just don't think I'd want to do that.”

“It's up to you, love.”

“Remember when you told me there wasn't any future for us as long as you were a vampire? That you were afraid you'd turn me against my will, or that you'd drain me dry?”

Nick went still. “I remember.” Those possibilities worried him on a daily basis.

She looked up at him, her gaze searching his. “Do you still feel that way?”

He nodded. “I won't lie to you, Abbey my love. You're a constant temptation. If I ever do anything to make you afraid of me, or put you in fear for your life, all you have to do is tell me to leave and I'll have to go. You know that, don't you?”

“That's the real reason you put the house in my name, isn't it? So I could revoke your invitation?”

He nodded.

“Nick, promise you won't ever leave me.”

“Abbey . . .”

“No. You're thinking it would be for the best if you just left and never came back, aren't you?”

He didn't deny it.

“Promise me, Nick. I can stand anything as long as you're with me.”

“All right, love, I promise I won't leave you.”

He just hoped it was a promise he could keep.

 

 

During the next few days, whenever she was alone, Abbey tried to discover whether she possessed any supernatural powers. She tried opening doors by willing them to open. She stared at a candle, trying to light it with the power of her mind, the way Nick lit a fire in the hearth. Nothing happened.

She tried to levitate.

She tried to pick the ace of spades out of a deck of cards.

She bought a book of spells and read it from cover to cover, hoping to find the secret to unleashing whatever power she had. Nothing happened.

“Some witch,” she muttered when she tried to conjure fire, and failed again. According to the book, it was supposed to be one of the easiest spells to master.

There were all kinds of magic—mud magic, rain magic, herb magic. Cauldron magic. Cauldrons had long been associated with witches, along with brooms, pointy hats, warts, and black cats. Cauldrons had also been considered a potent magical tool since before recorded history because they utilized all four of the natural elements. Fire heated the vessel, water filled it, herbs used in spells represented the earth, the steam it created represented the air. Cauldrons were especially associated with feminine magic.

Maybe what she needed was a big black pot and a pointy hat?

And maybe she needed to forget about magic altogether. Just because she had read Nick's mind a few times didn't mean she was a witch.

Maybe she had inherited a bit of psychic power from her biological father.

And maybe it was all just a coincidence.

Edna smiled at James. It was their second date. Earlier, they had gone bowling, something she hadn't done in longer than she could remember. And her dismal scores proved it. She hadn't even broke a hundred on their first game. She had done better the second two, scoring 129 and 142. James, the stinker, had bowled a 275, a 260, and a 280. It had been a great deal of fun. But then, just being with James was fun. She realized with something of a shock that laughter and good times had been sorely lacking in her life until now. Odd, she had never noticed it before.

Now, they were sitting on a park bench, holding hands and just enjoying each other's company. She had grown very fond of the man. He was such a sweet guy, with a warm, ready smile and a dry sense of humor.

“So,” he said, apropos of nothing. “How long have you been a vampire?”

Caught completely off guard, Edna squeaked, “Who, me?”

James laughed softly. “Don't look so shocked,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Monroe told me.”

“But . . . how did he find out?”

“From Anita, of course.”

“I can't believe she told him.”

“She didn't have to tell him. We already knew. That stuff you're wearing to hide your scent, I've used it myself. So, even though you didn't smell like a vampire, only vampires use it.”

“And hunters,” Edna said.

“Really? Damn, I didn't know that.”

She nodded.

“Have you and Anita been friends a long time?”

“Oh, yes, years and years. We were turned on the same night by the same vampire.”

“I thought maybe you turned each other.”

“Heavens, no! Who brought you across?”

“Monroe. His son brought him across.”

“Really? I can't imagine anyone
asking
for the Dark Gift.”

“Well, Monroe had only a few weeks to live and he asked his son to bring him across. And I asked Monroe a week later.”

“I was turned against my will. Anita, too. But, all things considered,” she said, smiling at him again. “I'm glad it happened.”

“So am I,” James said, his gaze intent upon her face, “or I never would have met you.”

If she'd been able, Edna knew she would have been blushing. Pearl was always accusing her of being boy crazy and in a way, it was true. She'd always had an eye for a good-looking man. As a young woman, she had been a bit of a flirt. So, she liked men. There was no law against it. Still, she couldn't remember the last time she had been
this
attracted to a man. Sighing, she wished suddenly that she was younger, prettier.

“Brittany? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I . . . you . . . we just met.”

He shrugged. “I don't suppose people's feelings have anything to do with the calendar.”

“No,” she said, feeling as though the sun was shining in her heart. “I guess they don't.”

 

 

“Coming to New Mexico is the best decision we ever made,” Pearl remarked as she finished unpacking her suitcase.

“You won't get any argument from me.” Edna frowned as she watched Pearl hang several dresses—all in bland or neutral colors—in the closet. “I'm getting awfully tired of brown and beige and navy. Aren't you?”

Pearl nodded. “But better safe than sorry, I always say.”

“I guess so.”

“I know so,” Pearl said, and then grinned. “Did I tell you that Monroe said if he ever met the person who killed Lou McDonald, he'd pat them on the back and buy them a drink? You don't know how hard it was for me to keep from telling him the truth.”

“Hmm. I'm not sure that's a truth we should
ever
tell
anyone.
”

“Exactly. Which means that as hard as it is, we can never let the guys know who we really are. Every hunter and vampire in the country knows Edna Turner and Pearl Jackson killed the McDonald sisters.”

Edna sighed. “Things seem to be moving so fast with me and Jim . . . I'm not sure what to make of it.”

“I know what you mean, dear. I think I'm falling in love with Monroe and it's only been a few days.”

“When are we going to open the motel?” Edna asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“I'm not sure. We'll have to hire someone to run the place during the day, you know.”

“Maybe one of the guys can recommend someone?”

“Maybe. We need to install some heavy-duty security doors on our apartment and new locks on all the windows right away. We should have done it before we moved in.”

“Do you really think we're in danger here? I never even heard of Dune, New Mexico, before.”

Pearl nodded glumly. “I hate to say it, dear, but I think we'll be in danger of one kind or another for as long as we live.”

Abbey leaned on the shovel and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. She didn't mind cleaning up after the horses. She didn't mind the smell of the manure or find the task unpleasant. Usually, she enjoyed it because it gave her time alone to think about things. But today, she didn't want to think, yet her mind seemed determined to replay her conversation with Nick.

What would she do if he turned her against her will?

Would she hate him forever?

Or wonder why she hadn't asked him to do it sooner?

Dragging her thoughts from Nick, she thought about her father, the warlock. She had tried several times to summon fire, but never with any success. Reading Nick's mind seemed to be her only supernatural power.

Glancing at the hose coiled by the side of the corral, she focused her thoughts on the faucet, willing the water to turn on and fill the horse trough.

A minute went by.

Two.

Five.

Chiding herself for being an idiot for trying again, she went back to mucking out the stalls and spreading fresh straw.

When she finished her chores, she saddled Freckles. Several days had passed since her conversation with Nick, and she hadn't had a peaceful moment since. One day she decided being a vampire wouldn't be so bad and the next, she was certain it wasn't for her. Not now. Not ever. On the other hand, being eternally young and never getting sick might be a fair trade for what she would have to give up. Plus, she would be making life easier for Nick. He would no longer be tempted to feed from her . . . or drain her dry.

But when she thought about the blood, about hunting for prey like a wild animal . . . why was accepting that so difficult? It was what her whole family did. She knew it, although they had always shielded her from that part of their existence. Was it as horrible and gross as it was in the movies and on TV? She just couldn't imagine her mother dragging some hapless person into the shadows and ripping their throat out. She had often wondered why movie vampires were such sloppy eaters, blood dripping from their fangs, staining their clothes.

It wasn't horrible when Nick drank from her, Abbey thought. He was very gentle, very . . . very tidy. Of course, maybe it was different when he hunted. She had never seen him search for prey. Or feed. Not that she wanted to.

To her chagrin, the idea suddenly held a strange, morbid appeal.

Shaking off her troublesome thoughts, she stepped into the saddle and urged the mare into a lope. A nice long ride was just what she needed to clear her head.

Abbey was about two miles from home when a pair of riders emerged from the woods to her left. As they drew closer, she could see they were both women, and not accomplished riders, judging by the way one woman held the reins and the other clung to the saddle horn.

One of them, dressed in jeans and a red flannel shirt, waved to her. “Hello, there! Can you help us? I'm afraid we're lost.”

Wary of strangers, Abbey reined Freckles to a halt a good distance away. “Where did you come from?”

The second woman, clad in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Back that way. I don't know how we ended up here,” she said, laughing. “Wherever ‘here' is.”

“You're on private property,” Abbey said. “I suggest you turn around and go back the way you came.”

“Sure. Thanks,” the woman said, but she wasn't looking at Abbey, she was watching something in the woods beyond.

Freckles snorted and shook her head.

Abbey turned to look behind her, let out a cry as a dart embedded itself in her left shoulder. Belatedly, she realized it was a trap, but by then it was too late.

Too late to run away. Too far from home to cry for help.

Her vision narrowed and grew dark as she toppled from the saddle.

 

 

When Nick woke late that afternoon, he knew immediately that Abbey wasn't in the house. Guessing that she had stayed late to visit her parents as she often did after taking care of the stock, he willed himself into the city in search of prey.

He found new pleasure in hunting these days. Odd, he thought, how being without his preternatural powers for a short time had given him a deeper appreciation of them when they returned.

Eager to see Abbey again, he fed quickly, then willed himself to Rane's house, thinking to drive back home with Abbey.

A quick sweep with his preternatural senses told him no one was home.

He willed himself to the barn, thinking Abbey must be working late.

But she wasn't there, either. And neither was her horse.

Nick frowned. It wasn't like her to ride so late. Leaving the barn, he sought the bond between them, grunted thoughtfully when he couldn't find it. What the hell? Was she blocking him?

It seemed unlikely. Expanding his preternatural senses, he sorted through the myriad scents that surrounded him—dirt, grass, trees, hay, straw, the horses in the barn, the cattle in the corral—until he found Abbey's unique scent. It guided him unerringly out of the yard. With preternatural speed, he moved past the tree line and into the pasture beyond.

Nick uttered a vile oath when he spied Freckles grazing on a patch of tall grass, reins trailing. There was no sign of Abbey and that worried the hell out of him. No way on earth would she have gone haring off on her own without looking after her horse first.

Where the devil was she?

Walking toward the mare, he caught the scents of two other women. A glance at the ground showed the tracks of three shod horses heading south.

Nick approached Freckles slowly so as not to startle her. Taking up the reins, he swung onto the mare's back and followed the trail of the other three horses. The fear he'd kept tamped down fought free when he neared the tree line and caught the scent of a man.

Genuinely worried now, he kicked the mare into a lope.

Abbey's scent led him unerringly to the service road that paralleled the southern boundary of Rane's property. He found a horse trailer parked there. Three horses were tied in the back. The vehicle that had towed the trailer was gone.

Abbey's scent, and those of the other three people, ended at the side of the road.

Nick sat there a moment, his arms crossed on the pommel as he tried to contact her through their shared link again.

He had no sense of her and that scared the hell out of him.

Either she was unconscious.

Or she was dead.

 

 

Rane and Savanah were home when Nick returned.

“What do you mean, she's missing?” Rane glared at Nick as if it was his fault.

“Just what I said. I found her horse in the south pasture. There was no sign of Abbey. I located the tracks of three horses. Abbey's scent was mingled with that of two other women and a man. I followed their trail to the service road and then it just disappeared.”

“She wouldn't go off like that without letting us know,” Savanah said, worrying a lock of her hair. “And she certainly wouldn't leave Freckles loose in the pasture without removing the tack.”

“Someone's taken her,” Nick said. “And it doesn't take three guesses to figure out who it was.”

A muscle throbbed in Rane's jaw. “Hunters.” He spit the word as if it tasted bad.

“Right the first time,” Nick muttered. “How many people know about those damn books?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“We don't know that this has anything to do with the books,” Savanah said, glancing anxiously from one man to the other.

“That's true,” Rane agreed. “But it's a pretty good bet.”

“I don't give a damn what they want,” Nick said, his frustration growing with every passing second. “All I know is she's gone.”

Savanah clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her face paler than usual. “You don't think it's the same hunters who came here before, do you?” she asked.

Nick shook his head. “It's unlikely the compulsion Rane used has worn off. Besides, I didn't recognize the scents of the three who took her.”

“Let's go,” Rane said. “We can follow the car that took her.”

Nick shook his head. “I already tried that. I followed it as far as I could. The kidnappers ditched the truck that pulled the horse trailer near a freeway on-ramp. There's no way to tell what car or truck they transferred to.”

“What about the horse trailer?” Savanah asked. “Any clues left there?”

“No. I made a call to the police department. It was stolen from a lot in town, along with the horses.”

Rane swore again.

“What do we do now?” Savanah glanced from one man to the other.

“We wait until Abbey regains consciousness,” Nick said, his voice ice cold. “And then I find her. And rip the heart out of whoever the hell kidnapped her.”