As Twilight Falls
Chapter 12

Kadie woke with a raging thirst. Flinging the covers aside, she hurried down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then drank two glasses of water.
Why was she so thirsty?
Of course, she thought with morbid humor, lifting a hand to her throat, she was a quart low. She was exaggerating, she hoped, but she was certain Saintcrow was the cause of her unusual thirst.
She knew now why the other women didn't complain about the vampires feeding on them. It was an amazing sensation. Sensual when it should have been sickening, amazing when it should have been abhorrent.
Would making love to Saintcrow be the same? Did vampires make love like human men? Or was it some totally different, bizarre experience entirely? And did she really want to know?
She poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it into the living room. At the window, she pulled back the curtain. There wasn't much to see other than rocks, trees, and the dark clouds rapidly gathering overhead.
She had always loved the rain. At home, she liked to wrap up in a blanket and sit on the front porch when it stormed. Even though Kathy had been afraid of the thunder and the lightning, she had always crawled into Kadie's lap.
Kadie felt her throat grow thick as she thought about her little sister. Kathy had been a change-of-life baby. Kadie had been sixteen when her mother announced she was pregnant. Kadie remembered being horrified at the thought of her mother having another baby. Kathy had been spoiled and coddled by her parents from the day she'd been born. Kadie had never been jealous of the attention Kathy received. She had doted on her little sister, been heartbroken when Kathy took sick. Her father, a respected surgeon, had been unable to diagnose her illness. Specialists had been called in but to no avail. Her ailment remained a mystery. Recently, her father had discovered an infusion that enabled Kathy to enjoy several weeks at home before it wore off and she had to return to the hospital for another treatment.
With a sigh, Kadie turned away from the window, praying that a cure could be found.
The day stretched before her, as gloomy as her thoughts. Kadie began to understand why Brittany worked in the library, why Marti and Jeremy worked in the grocery store, and why Leslie and Chelsea handed out popcorn at the movie theater. They didn't get paid, but it gave them something to do, a sense, however false, of being useful.
Moving to the sofa, she wondered if there was something in town she could do.
She sat up with a start when the doorbell rang. Feeling a little apprehensive, she set her coffee cup aside, then went to the door and looked through the peephole.
It was Carl Freeman.
Curious, she opened the door. "Hi. What brings you here?"
"I was just taking a walk and thought I'd stop by."
"That's some long walk."
"Tell me about it." He shuffled from one foot to the other. "Can I come in?"
"No, I'm sorry. I'm not allowed to let anyone into the house."
"Maybe you could come out?" he suggested.
"I guess so." Leaving the door open, she stepped outside.
"How are you liking it here?" he asked.
"Is that a trick question?"
"Yeah, I guess it is. I mean, what's there to like?" Kadie pondered that a moment. He was right. She could think of nothing in this town to recommend it. But there had to be something. "The trees are pretty," she remarked, glancing at the oak in the front yard. "The air is clean."
He looked at her in disbelief. "You're one of those 'the glass is half-full' kind of people, aren't you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know about that, but if you look hard enough, you can usually find something good in any situation," she said, and then frowned. Why had she said that? She hated it here, beautiful trees and clean air notwithstanding.
Kadie felt a sudden apprehension when he moved closer. She took a step to the side, then folded her arms over her breasts.
He cleared his throat. Not quite meeting her eyes, he said, "You're very pretty."
Murmuring, "Thank you," Kadie took a step backward, her apprehension turning to alarm when he took another step toward her. "What are you doing?"
"Scratching an itch."
Before she could retreat into the house, his arms closed around her and then he was kissing her, his body rubbing against hers, his hands stroking her arms, her face, her back.
At first, she was too startled by his behavior, too outraged by his brash assault, to react, until he plunged his tongue into her mouth. Gagging, she drove her knee into his crotch as hard as she could.
He released her immediately, his hands clutching his injured manhood.
Pivoting on her heel, Kadie escaped into the house and slammed the door behind her. She turned the lock with a flourish, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. What had just happened? She had never said or done a single thing to encourage him.
She pressed her hand to her heart. What would Saintcrow think when he found out?
What would he do?
He had told her that none of the vampires would dare touch her on pain of death. Did that apply to the humans in town, too?
She was suddenly certain that it did, and just as certain that she knew why Carl had rubbed his body against hers, why he had kissed her. It was no secret that he wanted to end his life. Had he finally found a way to make it happen?
Panic sent her into the bathroom. She showered for twenty minutes in hopes of erasing Carl's scent from her skin, washed her hair three times, brushed her teeth.
Pulling on clean clothes, she tried to relax, but it was hopeless. She fretted over Carl's actions the rest of the day, her tension growing with each passing hour. She didn't want to be the cause of anyone's death.
Her nerves were drawn tight as a bow string when Saintcrow appeared in the living room.
As usual, he asked about her day, only to pause, his brows rushing together, his eyes narrowing, as he looked her up and down, his nostrils flaring.
He didn't ask any questions, just looked at her as though awaiting an explanation.
Kadie glared at him. She saw no need to explain what he obviously already knew.
And still he stood there, waiting.
"Don't hurt him," she said.
"The man has been looking for death since he came here. He's found it."
Kadie placed her hand on Saintcrow's arm. It felt like iron beneath her palm. "You can't kill him just because he kissed me!"
"You think not?"
"I won't be the cause of a man's death!"
"He knew what he was doing. If I spare him, it will weaken my authority and put your life in danger."
"But . . ."
"The subject is closed," he said harshly. Then, more quietly, "I'll make it quick."
Before she could beg Saintcrow to reconsider, he was gone.
Unable to sit still, she paced the living room floor, her mind conjuring one gruesome image after another, all of them ending with Carl Freeman dead and drained of blood.
Kadie went to the window and stared out into the darkness. Where was Saintcrow? What was he doing? She sat on the sofa, her fingers drumming on the cushion beside her, then got up and went to the window again. She glanced at her watch, surprised to find that what had seemed like hours had been only a few minutes.
She was ready to scream when Saintcrow reappeared.
Kadie stared at him, mute, but when he said nothing, she had to ask, "Did you . . . is he . . . ?"
"No." He swore a pithy oath, then grabbed her arm and yanked her up close against him. "You owe me one, Kadie Andrews."
She stared up at him. "What . . . what do you want?"
Desire blazed in his eyes. "I think you know." One hand fisted in her hair. "That's my price. Is his life worth it?"
"You said you wouldn't force me."
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are! This is blackmail of the worst kind!"
"Yes, or no?"
"How do I know you didn't kill him?"
"Because I'm telling you that I didn't. Do you believe me?"
She met his probing gaze without blinking or flinching and she knew, somehow she knew, he was telling her the truth. She blew out a sigh. Giving him what he wanted-what she wanted, if she was honest with herself-seemed a small price to pay for a man's life.
"Very well, Saintcrow. The answer is yes. I'll sleep with you. As long as it isn't in a coffin."
His laughter startled her. "You win, Kadie. It's enough that you believe me. For now."
"You don't want me?"
"Always, but I want it to be your idea, not mine."
"Then what was this all about?"
The heat faded from his eyes. "I'm not sure."
Stunned, and unaccountably disappointed, she dropped down on the sofa. "Where's Carl now?"
Saintcrow leaned against the hearth, his arms folded over his chest. "I let him go. As far as anyone else knows, he's dead and buried."
"You let him go?"
"It was either that or kill him. I trust you won't tell anyone he's still alive."
"No, of course not. Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"I saw a graveyard. Are there people buried there? I mean, is it a real cemetery?"
"It's real, and yes, there are people buried there. People who have died here," he added, anticipating her next question. "Most from natural causes."
"Most?"
"There have been casualties from time to time."
She didn't have to ask what kind of casualties. The town was filled with vampires, after all. "Have you ever seen any ghosts out there?"
"Don't tell me you saw one?"
"No, but . . ." She felt a flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. "I felt something . . . something cold and kind of clammy. It was creepy."
He started to assure her that the dead couldn't hurt her, then changed his mind. Most of the Undead were more dangerous than the living.
"Anything else you want to know?" he asked, though he had no idea why he was answering her questions. He had never done so for any of the others.
"Just one. I was wondering why there are so few men here. Human men, I mean."
"Probably because men rarely get lost."
"Yeah, right," Kadie said. But she smiled in spite of herself. "Seriously, why?"
He shrugged. "Very few people find this place. Sometimes there are more men, sometimes more women. At the moment, the females outnumber the males. Women live longer. Men are more aggressive than women, less inclined to accept captivity, more likely to start fights they can't win."
She contemplated that for several minutes before asking, "Are you going to keep me here forever?"
"Perhaps." His gaze moved over her, as warm and tangible as a caress. And then he took her hand in his and drew her to her feet and into his arms. "But I think not."
Unbelievably, at that moment, with his arms holding her close and his dark eyes making love to her, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
She woke early the next morning, still thinking of Saintcrow, still wondering what it would be like to make love to a vampire.
Going downstairs, she came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the living room. All the old furniture was gone, replaced by the Jonathan Adler furniture, the new end tables and lamps. Saintcrow had arranged it so the sofa faced the fireplace. The easy chair and one table were to the sofa's left, the love seat and the other table to the right.
How had he gotten everything so quickly? she wondered, and then grinned. More vampire mojo.
There was a note on one of the end tables.
Kadie-
If you want to rearrange the furniture we can do it when I rise.
RS
The kitchen was also refurbished. She couldn't help smiling when she noticed there were two new chairs though she had only ordered one. The new blender and microwave were in place, new silverware gleamed in the drawer.
After making a pot of coffee, she pulled a new Spode china cup from the shelf. She hadn't seriously expected Saintcrow to buy all these things. She glanced at the cup in her hand. What if she broke it? It wouldn't be like breaking one of her cheap ceramic mugs back home.
With a shake of her head, she poured herself a cup of coffee. If he wanted to keep her, then he could keep her in the manner to which she was seriously unaccustomed!
Cup in hand, she returned to her bedroom. She hadn't paid much attention on waking, but now she noticed several packages on the dresser. No doubt she'd find her new sheets, towels, and bath soap inside. Not to mention a bottle of the world's most expensive perfume.
Unable to resist, she opened the smallest package and spritzed herself with Clive Christian No. 1. It smelled divine. Feeling like a movie star, she returned to the kitchen, wondering if Saintcrow would hire her a maid and a cook if she asked him to.
Kadie was sitting on the new sofa, watching a movie on her new DVD player, when Saintcrow appeared. As usual, her foolish heart skipped a beat-partly from the suddenness of his arrival, but mostly because he was such an amazing-looking man.
He glanced around the room. "So, how do you like it?"
"How do you like it? You paid for it."
He shrugged. "A sofa's a sofa. A chair's a chair. Do you need anything else?"
"Yes." Sitting up, she leaned forward, her elbows braced on her knees. "I want to know about you."
He lifted one brow. "What about me?"
"Gee, I wonder. Let's see. You're a nine-hundred-year-old vampire. Why don't you start there?"
He dropped into the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "What do you want to know?"
"How did you become a vampire? I mean, who did it? Where did it happen?"
"It was during the Crusades. It was a messy business, that war. A lot of men died on the way to the Holy Land. Ships were lost at sea. They were the lucky ones. The rest of us marched across the desert in full armor. Some perished from lack of food, others from lack of water, some from heat exhaustion. But we kept going, marching to the battle cry of Deus vult. God wills it. That was our motto. Thousands of men, women, and children joined us."
He shook his head with the memory. "Getting to the Holy Land was only half the battle. Once we were there, we laid siege to the cities, sometimes for years. It was exciting at first, riding off to a holy war, but the excitement quickly died, replaced by the stink of fear and death. I was wounded in battle. I knew I was going to die, but I managed to drag myself away from the field where no one could find me. I guess I was delirious, but I was determined to die alone. A woman found me there. She gave me a drink of water, sang me a song."
His eyes took on a faraway look, and Kadie knew he was living it all again. He was quiet for several minutes before he continued.
"She talked to me for a long time. I don't remember much of what she said. I was fading fast. I remember she pinched me hard enough to get my attention, then she asked me if I wanted to die. I thought that, under the circumstances, it was a foolish question. I was weak. I could barely speak, my vision was gone. She shook me, then asked me the same question again, but I was past answering.
"What happened next remains a blur. I know she bit me. I remember feeling her teeth at my throat, but it didn't hurt. I felt myself drifting away and I knew I was dying, but I didn't care. I was floating in a sea of crimson when she slapped me. It jerked me back to reality. 'Drink this,' she said, and I opened my mouth. That's the last thing I recall until I woke the next night.
"At first, I had no idea what had happened to me. My memories of the night before were fragmented. All I knew was that I was filthy, my armor was gone, my garments were stained with blood, and I was ravenous, hungry for something, although I didn't know what it was at the time.
"I heard voices in the distance and I started walking toward them." He took a deep breath, held it for a long time before releasing it. "I found three men gathered around a fire. Deserters from the look of them. I called out and they invited me to join them." He dragged a hand over his jaw. "I guess my appearance was pretty awful. When they saw me up close in the fire's light, they drew their weapons."
His gaze met hers, dark and direct. "It was the last thing they ever did."
She bit down on her lower lip. He had killed them, she thought. All of them. "What happened to the vampire who made you?"
"I don't know. I never saw her again. I learned how to be a vampire the hard way, by trial and error. It didn't take long to learn that the sun was my enemy, or that I could no longer consume mortal food, or that everyone I met from that night on was my enemy.
"It took me quite a while to adjust to my new existence, to accept that I was no longer human, that I would never have a family of my own." He glanced at the fireplace. A moment later, flames sprang to life in the hearth. "For a time, I hated everyone, myself most of all." His gaze met hers again. "I became the monster of myth and legend, and I reveled in it."
"I'm sorry." It was a completely inane thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else. It was so easy to visualize the story he had told her. She could feel his anger and his despair, and even though she couldn't condone what he had done, she could understand it.
He lifted one brow in what was quickly becoming a familiar gesture. "You think you understand?" He snorted his disgust. "You have no idea of the bodies or the carnage I left in my wake."
She wanted to go to him, to erase the torment from his eyes, ease the harsh lines that bracketed his mouth, but an innate sense of self-preservation warned her not to say or do anything that would ignite the anger simmering in his eyes. His preternatural power filled the room.
He was a big man, strong. Solid. He would have been a man to be reckoned with even as a human. Now, that strength, combined with his supernatural power, made him far more dangerous.
He glared at her for several tense moments, then vanished from her sight.
The flames in the hearth licked hungrily at the logs, their hissing the only sound in the room.
Weak with relief, Kadie sagged back against the sofa pillows, thinking she was lucky to still be alive.