SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS (3 page)

A tickling sensation sprinted up her spine and landed in the back of her neck. She knew before she looked—someone was watching her. She stopped and pretended to admire a pretty dress displayed in the shop window. At first, she saw only the yellow sundress inviting all women to get ready for the summer only months ahead. She saw her own image reflected back at her: a young woman with thick, blonde, and at the moment windblown long hair. She made a show of sliding her hands over her tightly fitted black jacket and pulled at its banded waist before she smoothed her hands over her blue jean–clad thighs. She turned partially on the heels of her high black leather boots, and then saw him off to her left.

Her silver eyes gave nothing away as she looked him over. He stood a few feet from her, and he made no effort to hide himself. He wore an expensive, form-fitting black leather jacket over a dark gray T-shirt. Jeans covered, long muscular legs. Black leather boots with silver tips finished his high-priced ensemble, and then her eyes glanced back at his face. Whew! Sexy, hot, and handsome in an all too memorable way.

Was he following her? She was sure he was following her. Why? This wasn’t the first time she had seen him that day. She had caught a glimpse of his profile earlier…

After all, he wasn’t the sort that could go unnoticed, and this she decided was not a coincidence. She didn’t believe in coincidences.

She pretended to glance at her watch and then hurried along. She felt him move in line with her, and this time, he got closer.

She stopped at the intersection of Forty-Second and glanced around casually. He was only a few feet away. He wasn’t looking at her, and yet, she felt she was in his sights.
What does he want?

He wasn’t one of the Rawley clan members—of that she was certain. The fact was that even if she hadn’t had the ability to know human from vampire, a vamp wouldn’t be out in the sun, no matter how cool the day might be. Yet…
he wasn’t quite human
either.

His tawny hair blew around his chiseled and handsome face. He was tall, he was amazingly well built, and she had to ditch him as fast as she could. Suddenly, with a speed that was vamp-fast, he was at her side, touching her arm as he whispered, “
We need to talk.”

~ Two ~

“EXCUSE ME.” SHAWNA sidestepped the big hunk of a man, who seemed to purposely get in her way, and started across the street.

Chadwick MacFare fell into a clipped walk beside her, and his voice was low but intense. “Listen to me, Shawna Wellsly—you are in terrible danger, and
you
know it. I know it. They might not know where you are yet, but eventually
they will
find you.”

“
You’re nuts
,” Shawna scoffed as she kept on walking—faster then before.

He didn’t miss a step. “You know otherwise.”

“Get away from me before I call the cops.”

“You won’t do that. It would draw attention to yourself—and you can’t afford that.” Suddenly he had her shoulders in his large hands. His green eyes stared hard into her silver pools. “Just stop!”

“Stop! You are a total stranger, talking nonsense, and I am warning you…” Shawna grimaced at him. “Get your hands off me.”

He dropped his hold on her. “Come with me… there, to that coffee house—safe enough, crowded.” He pointed his strong chin in the direction of a small shop across the street.

“I have an appointment I can’t miss.”

“Then let me walk you to your appointment. You can ask me anything you want to know. I will answer what I can. Afterwards, we can go to a very public coffee shop, and you can hear what I have to say.”

He saw her consider his suggestion. Her watched as her mind raced over the possibilities, and then she spoke.

“I don’t know who you are. Your accent is Scottish, I think…so maybe you are tourist looking for some excitement. You won’t find it with me.” She yanked out of his hold and called over her shoulder, “Stop following me.”

He gave it up. The way he saw it was that at least for the moment she was not in any immediate danger, even though he had seen more than the ordinary numbers of vampires since he had arrived last night. Still, it was not the right time of day for vampires to cruise the city streets. He could try again later, but not too much later, not with the vision he had still taunting him. He knew from that vision that the clan would soon be closing in on her. He had learned over the last two centuries that his visions would only give him ‘the most likely future’, not the absolute. And he had also learned that there were few visions, one out of nine in fact, that he could actually alter.

However, this time he had to succeed. He had to interfere with Shawna’s future. The alternative was, for him, unthinkable.

He was surprised by her vehement rebuff. He had not anticipated it…and in fact, had never before been rebuffed by a woman…

He would have to find a way to make her listen because she didn’t stand a chance alone, and he knew now that was how she was determined to face her danger—
alone.

Besides, she was essential to his plan.
She was the bait he needed
.

He knew from inquiries that the Rawley clan had a compound in the wilds of Quebec. They had resided there for the last twenty years, but he knew they had recently decided to move elsewhere—Europe, probably Italy.

In his vision he had seen Pentim force his own blood down her throat. She had lost her battle against the vampire virus, but she would not allow herself to become one of them; in the end she had forced her father into a rage and died by his hand. That had been his vision.

Chad MacFare was his own man, and he knew he was going against his father’s wishes. His father had asked him to ‘sit it out’. How could he? The Rawley clan had become too powerful, too threatening. And he personally wanted Pentim Rawley dead for reasons all his own.

In the end, he, his father, and his grandmother’s way of life might even be threatened. That was something they had avoided for centuries…

His reasons for wanting Rawley dead were deeply personal, and he meant to get the job done at any cost!

* * *

Shawna raced into the Harlow Building on Forty-Fifth and Avenue of the Americas. The hunky stranger was no longer at her back. A small part of her felt oddly deflated; a larger part of her wondered just who he was, and what was his angle. However, she had things to do, and so she forced herself to put him out of her mind.

Smartly dressed people were coming and going, focusing on their own business. She dove into a crowded elevator and pushed the button for the fifteenth and highest floor of the building.

With a sigh of relief she slipped out of the elevator into the grand central hall of Stevens & Stevens. When she gave her name, a young paralegal immediately stepped forward, hand outstretched in a warm greeting. Shawna knew the attention was because she was one of the large firm’s wealthiest clients.

Money didn’t mean much to Shawna, and now it was merely a way to escape her father’s clan. Money had never really meant much to her, although at some point she realized that her grandparents were more than extremely wealthy.

As she sat waiting for her attorney in the confines of his large, comfortable office, she recalled the day her grandfather had sold his shares in various corporations and invested in areas that saw his millions trebled in no time. He told her they would need it for the future.

She hadn’t realized then that he was preparing for a future her grandfather knew was inevitable. When it became apparent that they would have to go into hiding, he liquidated everything and created several legal holding companies so they would not have a money trail that could be easily followed. They had one advantage: the fact that Shawna’s vampire father had no idea who Shawna’s mother had been.

When Shawna graduated from NYU and discovered that her father had somehow learned of her existence, she made her grandparents go into hiding and set out to draw attention to herself in Seattle, Washington—well away from her grandparent’s new location. She wanted Pentim Rawley to concentrate just on her. She didn’t want him looking for them.

She missed them—they were her ‘love line’ in a lonely world. She used various and different cell phones to call them, and then promptly disposed of the phones and bought replacements. She had to keep their existence free from her father’s scope. Why he should want her so badly was a mystery to her. After all, he had his clan—and they were the most powerful clan in their dark world.

Shawna, on the other had, had reason to hate him. He had caused her mother’s death, and she despised everything he stood for. He had not given her mother a choice but had forced his blood down her throat…

She knew what he looked like—she had seen him in her dreams. Lately, she sensed that he was calling for her.

Because of you, I never had a chance to know
my mother,
she whispered in her mind. She stopped herself from making the violent sound that worked its way up her throat. She shook her head.
Careful, Shawna, or next you will be talking to
yourself
.

All the brooding was, she knew, because she was lonely. She was on the run. How could she allow anyone to enter her life and become a part of it? Impossible. She couldn’t develop the friendships she would have loved to enjoy. Pentim Rawley would use them to get to her. She could get people she cared about killed…

No, her fate, her life, depended on her being a loner for as long as she could stay alive. She sighed over the fact—because just what sort of life was that?

~ Three ~

PENTIM RAWLEY WAS, in spite of his slick good looks, no longer attractive. Time and the vagaries of black magic had etched itself on his face. His amber-lit eyes held derision and ennui. He rarely, if ever, smiled.

There was something about his face that made one pause, but not admire, and if one were able to indulge a stare in his direction (which usually had dire consequences), one might see past the artificial complacency and calm to the hovering desire to kill. He was true evil, and it displayed itself in the recesses of his awful eyes.

Pentim had been turned into a vampire over three hundred years past and immediately gave in to the bloodlust as most newly turned vampires do. The difference was that he also thoroughly enjoyed the actual kill. He liked the terror that appeared in his victims’ eyes. He liked to witness his victims tremble and beg for mercy, because he had lost his soul long before he had been turned.

He had acquired skills as he matured into his full vampire mana, and the first thing he did was to take off the head of the vampire that had sired him. It was not because he was angry at being turned—quite the contrary, he loved being a vampire. He killed his sire because he wanted no one above his perceived rank.

He liked his uniqueness, and for many years he did not seek out more of his kind. He traveled alone. He chose his victims wisely, taking those whose deaths would not be noticed. There were so many to choose from.

However, power seeks adulation, and he wanted more of both. He began the process of watching select humans, choosing them carefully. By the end of the twentieth century he chose his victims specifically based on what he believed each would bring to the clan he envisioned.

Just when he believed he had what he needed to rule supreme (he did not consider Dracula a rival—how could he? No one knew the extent of Dracula’s acquired powers), he looked around himself with utter disgust.

Too many humans had been turned,
and some of those newly reborn were incurring too much notice. He watched the greed and carelessness of the newbies until he snarled for an end to the madness. Pentim held a meeting and called for an end to indiscriminate
turning.

He liked his anonymity. He liked walking through the night and carefully selecting his victims. He did not want attention drawn to himself or his clan members. If this ‘inundated turning’ were allowed to continue, it would gather people into a mob.

Mobs were never a good thing for vampires.

Vampires did in fact have certain weaknesses that humans could discover and use to destroy them in mass numbers. Pentim realized what a mob of angry, scared humans could do to a vampire clan during the clans’ weakest hours.

He regarded the newbies as a danger to his meticulous way of life. He decided that he and his clan would put an end to it all. They would limit the number of vampires on earth, for some of those newly turned were sloppy and left trails—trails that might point towards his own safely guarded clan.

He made a decision and began the process of carrying out his divine plan—to eliminate all but the most humble and lowly of vampire clans.

To that end, they had been successfully working. Vampires are solitary creatures and did not at first realize what was happening in the darkest hours. They were slow to surmise that they were being hunted by one of their own. And then it was too late. What was left of the smaller clans had gone into hiding; others were on the run.

And then without warning, Pentim came across one young and pretty vamp who begged to be spared. Normally, he would not have listened, but this one caught his interest.