Everlasting Desire
Page 27Rhys muttered something under his breath as he released her, and even though she didn’t recognize the language, she knew he was swearing. Some words sounded the same no matter how you said them.
Turning away, Rhys scooped Shirl into his arms. “I’ll take good care of her,” he said curtly, and with his gaze riveted on Megan, he vanished from her sight.
“Show-off,” Megan murmured, and burst into tears.
Rhys carried Shirl to his penthouse lair, settled her in his bed, then went out onto the balcony, his thoughts in turmoil. Why had he agreed to turn Megan’s roommate? Had he hoped, in some distant part of his mind, that by saving Shirl he could regain Megan’s affection?
He snorted with disgust at his own foolishness. If anything, he had caused Megan to hate him all the more. And now he had an unwanted fledgling on his hands.
The wind stirred, whispering through the trees, sending leaves and debris skittering along the sidewalk.
And on the freshening wind, Rhys caught the scent of an unfamiliar vampire. Cursing softly, he was about to vault over the railing to the street below when the vampire materialized beside him.
“What the hell!” Rhys hissed.
Looking faintly amused, the vampire bowed from the waist. “Tomás Villagrande,” he said. “And you are Rhys Costain, Master of the City, are you not?”
Rhys nodded. Tomás Villagrande was tall and lean, with dark brown hair and hooded brown eyes. He appeared to be in his late twenties.
“What brings you to my territory?” Rhys asked.
Villagrande shrugged. “I had a yearning to see the West Coast, to sail the waters of the Pacific.” His eyes turned hard. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Only if you hunt in my territory. You’ve left quite a trail of carnage in your wake. Don’t bring it here.”
Villagrande drew himself up to his full height.
Though Rhys was several inches taller than Villagrande and outweighed him by a good thirty pounds, the other vampire’s preternatural power was a force to be reckoned with. Rhys felt it like a heavy hand trying to crush his own strength, a ponderous weight pushing against his mind. He brought his own power to bear, infusing it with his anger, his frustration.
Villagrande grinned impudently. “You are strong,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “And stubborn.” He jerked his chin toward the door of the penthouse. “The woman inside, is she yours?”
“Not in the way you mean.”
“She’s under my protection, as are all the vampires in my territory. I will not take it kindly if harm comes to any of them.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to behave,” Villagrande said with asperity. “I could destroy you with a thought.”
“You could try.”
“Adrianna.” Villagrande spat her name. “I believe she’s hiding somewhere in your territory.”
Rhys nodded. There was no point in denying it. “Is she why you’re here?”
“Partly.”
“Still looking for retribution?”
Villagrande’s eyes flickered with surprise. “She told you?”
Rhys shrugged. “I like to know what’s going on with anyone who stays in my territory.”
“She took something that was mine.”
“It was a long time ago. Why not forget it?”
“This is between me and Adrianna. It doesn’t concern you.”
“Anything that happens in my territory concerns me. I don’t particularly like Adrianna, but that doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here and take her out.”
“Do you think you can stop me?”
“I don’t know. I hope I don’t have to find out.”“We’ll see.”
Villagrande inclined his head. “As you wish. For now.” And with that begrudging promise, he was gone.
Rhys muttered an oath. He had lost Megan. He had a fledgling sleeping in his lair. And now the most powerful vampire in the world was stalking the streets of his city. What was Villagrande really doing here? Hard to believe his only reasons for leaving the East were to avenge himself on Adrianna and sail the Pacific.
He raked his fingers through his hair. He should probably warn Adrianna that Villagrande was in town.
Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he punched in her number.
Lingering on the sidewalk beneath Costain’s lair, Villagrande listened to the conversation between the Master of the West Coast Vampires and Adrianna.
Avenging himself on Adrianna was the first order of business. He could, as Costain had suggested, forget about seeking revenge. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the face or the name of the long-deceased woman who had been the cause of their feud, but if he let Adrianna’s lack of respect go unchallenged, others might see it as a sign of weakness.
And then there was the West Coast. He had forgotten the beauty of the Pacific Ocean, the mild climate, the long-legged, tanned California girls. Why visit for a short time when he could just take over the territory? Of course, it might prove a difficult task. Rhys Costain was a force to be reckoned with. He was strong and more powerful than expected, but that would only make the coming battle more challenging.
As for the woman in Costain’s lair, she excited him, though Tomás was at a loss to explain why. He had never seen her. Didn’t know her name. But her scent, the beat of her heart, they called to him in ways he didn’t understand. And since she wasn’t Costain’s woman, taking her shouldn’t be a problem.
Chapter 26
Megan woke early after a night plagued with bad dreams. Rising, she pulled on her robe and tiptoed down the hall to Shirl’s bedroom to assure herself that it had all been a nightmare. She would look in Shirl’s room and find her friend asleep in her bed, the covers pulled over her head, her Beauty and the Beast night-light burning.
Taking a deep breath, Megan quietly opened the door. The room was dark. The bed was empty. So, it hadn’t been a dream. Last night, Rhys had turned her roommate into a vampire. And now Shirl was in his lair, sleeping the sleep of the Undead, and when she woke…
Megan shuddered. She couldn’t help wondering what her roommate would think when she woke tonight and discovered she was really and truly a vampire. Would she regret it, or would she still believe it had been the right decision? What would she think when she couldn’t see her reflection in a mirror anymore? Shirl had always been a little vain about her looks, but then, who could blame her? She was gorgeous. How would she react to the reality of having to drink blood to survive? Granted, Shirl’s former diet had been pretty restricted, but even celery had to be better than blood.
Megan had done a lot of research on the Undead in the last week or so. She wasn’t sure how much of what she had read on the Web was fact and how much was fiction. But, thanks to Rhys, she knew the blood thing was real.
Megan shook her head. Her roommate barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. Megan simply couldn’t imagine her petite friend prowling around in the dead of night looking for prey.
Her mind kept coming back to the fact that Shirl was sharing Rhys’s lair. Was she also sharing his bed? Rhys was an attractive man. Shirl was a beautiful woman…. Megan pushed the troublesome thought from her mind. It was none of her business. She had no claim on Rhys. And Shirl…what was she going to do about Shirl? Was it safe to live with a vampire? Especially a new vampire?
Shirl woke slowly. She felt funny. Different. Not quite herself. She lifted a hand to her head. Was she dying? Was this what death was like, this sudden clarity of sight and sound? A reminder of the perfection of life before it was snatched away? The room was dark, yet she could see everything clearly—the faint crack in the ceiling overhead; each individual thread in the silk sheet that covered her; the tiny dent on the edge of the antique dresser across from the bed.
She jumped when the door opened and a light came on, then let out a sigh when she saw who it was.
“Rhys.” She blinked at him as everything that had happened the night before came rushing back. She frowned, and then she smiled. “It worked.”
“So it would seem.” He stepped farther into the room, his gaze moving over her. “How do you feel?”
She thought about it a moment, then said, “Wonderful! My head doesn’t hurt anymore!” Leaping off the bed, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you!” she cried exuberantly, and kissed him.
She was beautiful, her body was pressed against his, and he did what any other man would do. He kissed her back, pretending, for a moment, that it was Megan in his arms. And then he gently pushed her away.
“No regrets?” he asked.
She laughed softly. “I don’t think so, but it’s a little early to tell.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I think I’m hungry.”
Rhys nodded. Her eyes had taken on a red hue. “Time for your first lesson.”
“Lesson?”
“Vampire hunting 101,” he explained. “Rule number one. I’m the Master of the West Coast Vampires. You’re my fledgling. This is my territory. As long as you stay here, you do as I say. Got it?”
“Yes, master.”
“You’re learning,” he said, ignoring the sarcasm in her voice. “Rule number two. I’m the only one who’s allowed to hunt in this city, and I do it only rarely. Smart vampires don’t hunt where they live.”
Shirl nodded. That made sense.
“Number three. For as long as you exist, there will be a blood connection between us. I’ll always be able to find you, and if you bring trouble into my territory, I’ll destroy you. Got it?”
“Y…yes.” She hesitated a moment, then asked, “Will you tell me something?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">