Dead Sexy

"As long as necessary."

"I always heard vampires went a little bonkers if they didn't feed regularly."

He lifted one brow. "Bonkers?"

"You know, crazy. Off the deep end. Nutters."

"I know what it means," he said dryly. "Though I confess I have never heard anyone use it before. But you needn't worry. I am old enough to control my passions." His gaze touched her lips, her throat, moved down to linger on her br**sts before returning to her face. "All of them."

"That's… ah, good to know."

He gestured at the food spread on the blanket. "I thought you were hungry?"

"I was."

"Sit," Santiago said. "Eat."

"I'm not sure I can now."

"Do not make it more than it was," he said with a laugh. "She has no doubt lost more blood cutting her finger than what I took."

He was probably right, but it was still disconcerting to see him actually feed off of someone. When her stomach growled again, she sat down. Since he had "eaten" in front of her, she didn't feel the least bit self-conscious eating in front of him.

Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, she picked up a piece of meat, her expression dubious as she took a bite. Hungry as she was, she couldn't help wondering what kind of meat she was eating. In the old days, when food was scarce, the Indians had eaten their horses and their dogs. But food wasn't scarce these days. The Black Hills were thick with game. She had never eaten venison or buffalo, but either one was preferable to eating a dog or a horse. She took another bite, hoping it was buffalo or venison. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

Knowing that his presence made her nervous, Santiago went to the door and peered out into the darkness. They would leave as soon as possible after the feast.

He tried to concentrate on something other than the woman behind him, but it was impossible. In a remarkably short time, Regan Delaney had become the most important thing in his life. Now, all he had to do was decide what to do about her.

After what seemed like hours but was probably no more than forty minutes, a young boy summoned them to the feast.

Regan didn't know what she had expected, but she was somewhat taken aback to find what must have been the whole village gathered outside. Men, women, and children sat in a large circle. Several large fires provided warmth and light.

The chief of the village rose to meet them, inviting them to sit at his side. As the honored guest, Santiago would ordinarily have been served first, but since it was known that he shunned food, Regan was served first. The chief and camp leaders were served next, and then the rest of the tribe.

All Regan's qualms about what might be served were swept away when she was handed a large plate heaped with what she hoped was a steak, potatoes, and corn on the cob.

"They prepared your meal especially for you," Santiago told her. "Everyone else is eating buffalo tongue and hump. And dog. Among the Lakota, it is highly prized."

Regan glanced at her plate in horror. "This is dog meat?"

"Only that one small piece," he said, pointing at a tiny morsel. "Courtesy demands that each one present have a piece."

"But… I can't eat a dog."

"It will be seen as an insult if you refuse."

Regan swallowed hard, suddenly aware that all eyes were watching her. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the tiny piece of meat and quickly washed it down with a drink of coffee.

"How was it?" Santiago asked.

"I don't know. I ate it so quickly, I couldn't taste it."

He laughed softly. "Well done."

Now that she'd eaten the dog meat, she was glad to see that she was no longer the center of attention.

After a while, the low beat of a drum could be heard above the hum of conversation. Without intending to eavesdrop, she overheard snatches of conversation. One woman was lamenting the fact that her little boy still sucked his thumb. One of the men was griping about the price of fuel. Another was wishing he didn't have to go back to work the following week.

Regan couldn't help smiling. They might dress and live like their ancestors, but it seemed they had the same problems and concerns as everybody else.

When the feast was over, an enormous drum was brought into the center of the circle. Four men sat around it. As they began to beat the drum, a number of men got up to dance. When they were through, the women danced.

Regan was about to ask Santiago why the men and women didn't dance together when they formed two lines facing each other.

"Come on," Santiago said, taking her by the hand.

She started to protest, then thought better of it. The steps looked simple enough, and she might never get another chance to dance with the Lakota.

She couldn't take her eyes off Santiago. He moved like a cat, his feet hardly touching the ground, his every movement supple and sensual. The heat of his eyes speared through her when his gaze met hers.

When the dance was over, they returned to their seats.

"We should go," Santiago said.

Regan nodded, though she was reluctant to leave. There was something hypnotic about watching the flames, listening to the beat of the drum, feeling the evening breeze feather through her hair. As she had once before, she seemed to hear the spirits of those long dead whispering to her.

Santiago was about to get up when an old man stepped into the circle. As soon as he sat down, a group of children surrounded him.

"What's going on?" Regan asked.

"He is going to tell them a story."

"Can we stay until it's over?"

Santiago nodded. "If you wish."

"What is he saying?" Regan asked, unable to understand the storyteller's language.

"It is a story about Old Man Coyote and his brother. It seems that one day, Old Man Coyote and his brother, who were bored and hungry, went out walking together. After a time, they came upon a chipmunk and a frog who were sunning themselves on the banks of a river. 'Ah,' Old Man Coyote said to his brother, 'here is our dinner.' But before they ate them, Old Man Coyote decided to see if the chipmunk or the frog could entertain them."

"Dinner and a floor show," Regan remarked dryly.

"Indeed." Santiago said, smiling. "'Can you sing or do a trick?' Old Man Coyote asked the chipmunk. 'If you can sing or make us laugh, we might not eat you.' The chipmunk didn't believe Old Man Coyote because everyone knew Coyote was a trickster. But the chipmunk was a smart fellow. 'I can't sing, but I can spin in circles,' the little chipmunk said. So Old Man Coyote said, 'show me,' and the chipmunk began to spin around and around. He spun around Old Man Coyote and his brother until they were both dizzy, and then the chipmunk ran up the trunk of a nearby tree and hid in the branches.