Deeper than the Night
Chapter Ten

Kara stared out the window, watching the lights of the city grow faint as Alex drove the Porsche up the narrow mountain road.
"When do you think I can go back home?" she asked after a lengthy silence.
"When I think it's safe."
"When will that be?"
"I don't know, Kara. I'msorry."
Kara chewed on her lower lip, wondering how he'd know when it was "safe." Tall pines lined the winding road as they climbed upward. They had been traveling all night, stopping only to buy gas or to get something to eat, although Alex ate very little. Their last stop had been at a grocery store, where Alexander had bought several blocks of ice and an ice chest, along with enough food to supply a small army. Soon, they would arrive at his place. And then what?
She was all too conscious of the physical attraction that hummed between them, vital, irrefutable, almost tangible. How could they live in the same house day after day without . . . A wave of heat flooded her cheeks at the thought of being in his arms, in his bed. How could she feel this way about a man she hardly knew?
She didn't remember falling asleep, but she woke with a start when the car came to a stop. Disoriented, she sat up and looked around.
"It's all right, Kara," Alexander said. "We're here."
Here proved to be on top of a mountain. "But . . ." Kara frowned at Alexander. "Where's the house?"
"It isn't a house, exactly."
"What is it then, exactly? A cave?"
A faint smile curved his lips. "In a manner of speaking."
Without further explanation, he got out of the car and removed two of the cardboard boxes from the trunk.
With a sigh, Kara reached into the back seat. Grabbing the packages that contained her new clothes, she slid out of the car and followed Alexander along a short dirt path that led to what looked like a dead end. Her heart seemed to jump into her throat as she peered over the narrow ledge. One misstep would send her plummeting a thousand feet into the valley below.
She moved closer to Alexander, watching in silent fascination as he placed his hand over an oddly shaped striation in the rock face. There was a low rumble, and then, to Kara's astonishment, a portion of the rock slid back, revealing a large cavern hewn out of the mountain.
Shades of Star Trekand Indiana Jones, Kara thought. She stood at the entrance for a moment, then followed Alexander into the dark maw.
She saw the movement of his hand. The mountain closed behind them. Light flooded the antechamber.
Kara blinked as she glanced around. The walls of the cavern were fashioned of smooth white stone. She looked up at the ceiling, but could not detect the source of the light.
"Coming?"
Kara glanced at Alexander, who was watching her carefully. "You are going to explain all this, aren't you?"
"Later."
"Later? I don't think so." She dropped her packages on the floor_on the ground, actually_and stared at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
Alexander moved down the narrow passageway. "I'm going to put this stuff away, then go back and get the rest," he said. "Your room is the first door on the left at the end of this passage."
"Infernal man," Kara muttered.
Retrieving her packages, she made her way down the corridor. She passed a dark room on her right_ the living room, perhaps? Another few steps took her to the first door on the left. There was no knob, no lock. With a grimace, she stared at the blank wooden door; then, remembering how Alex had opened the portal to the cavern, she placed her hand against the wood. The entrance slid open, and after a moment's hesitation, she stepped inside.
It was a small, oval-shaped room. There was a double bed topped with a dark blue quilt, an elegant three-drawer dresser made of antique oak, an oil lamp fashioned of brass with a delicate glass chimney, and a beautiful Navajo rug woven in muted shades of blue and green. Nothing else. A small round window made of thick glass overlooked the valley below.
She crossed the floor and touched the window, wondering how he had managed to put a window in the side of a mountain. The glass felt odd, hard and soft at the same time.
Frowning, she turned to regard the room again. It was spartan, she thought, but what furnishings the room contained were exquisite.
It took only a few minutes to unpack, and then she went to look for Alexander, determined to find the answers to the questions tumbling through her mind.
The room across from hers appeared to be the kitchen. It held a small, square table, a single chair, a Coleman stove, several ice chests, and a small sink. Where, she wondered, did the water come from, and where did it go?
She tapped her finger on the counter. The water probably came from a spring. As for where it went . . . she stooped and opened the door under the sink. A pipe ran from the sink into a hole cut in the floor. Rising, she grunted softly. No doubt the water drained directly into the mountain. There were several shelves cut into the rock wall, which held a few cups and plates and some pots and pans.
Two steps carved from stone led down into a large sunken room. There was a fireplace in one corner. The vent went through the rock ceiling. Clever, she mused. No doubt it reappeared on top of the mountain where any telltale smoke would be diffused by the trees. A large oil lamp sat on a smooth-topped tree stump beside an oversized black leather sofa. Soft yellow light from the lamp filled the room.
There was a large oak bookcase along one wall. Every shelf was filled with books. What looked to be a bearskin was spread in front of the fireplace. A small round window offered a view similar to that in the bedroom.
Kara shook her head. Mountains that moved. Windows cut into solid rock. Glass that felt hard and soft at the same time. What next?
"Alexander?"
She stepped into the corridor and headed toward what she hoped was the entrance, only to meet Alexander coming toward her, the last of the groceries cradled in his arms.
"Here," she said, reaching for one of the cartons. "Let me help."
Her fingers brushed his as he handed her one of the boxes, and she felt a frisson of heat shoot up her arm. He felt it, too_she knew it by the sudden awareness that flickered in his eyes. Face to face, neither speaking, they regarded each other for a long moment before Alexander stepped past her, headed for the kitchen.
They spent the next twenty minutes putting the groceries away. When the last can had been put on the shelf, Kara turned to face Alexander.
"It's later," she said.
Alexander sighed. "It's quite simple, really," he said. "I own the mountain. I built this place as a sort of retreat."
"Retreat? From what? World War Three?"
"Why not?"
Kara shook her head. "I don't buy it, Alex. Not for a minute."
"Believe me or not, Kara, it's your choice. But the truth is, I do own this mountain, and I did build this place."
Incredibly, she did believe him. She alsoknew he wasn't telling her the whole truth. "How does one install windows in a mountain? And what about that glass?"
"What about it?"
"I don't know, it feels . . . funny. And the light in the entrance to this place. Where does it come from?"
Alexander ran a hand through his hair. She was too smart, too curious, for her own good. And his.
Kara tapped her foot on the floor. "I'm still waiting for those answers."
"Modern technology, Kara. It's as simple as that. The glass is made to withstand stress. The light is recessed."
She stared at him for a long moment, and he knew she was considering his answers. "So, what do we do now?"
"Stay put, for a while at least. We've got enough food to last several weeks. There's plenty of water. Wood for a fire."
"Heat, food, and shelter," Kara said with a faint grin. "All that primal man needed to survive."
"It has served me well in the past."
She lifted one finely arched brow. "Is there a . .. a rest room?"
"A small one. It's the last door at the end of the passage. There's no bathtub or shower, I'm afraid. When you wish to wash, you can do so in the sink, or you can bathe in the hot spring located a short distance from here."
Kara sighed. She had never liked camping, and even though this wasn't a tent outdoors, it was still far too rustic for her taste.
"I'm sorry," Alexander said, observing her obvious dismay. "Hopefully, we won't have to stay here too long."
"Hopefully."
"It's late," he said. "You must be tired."
"Yes." She folded her arms, suddenly very much aware that she was alone in a cave with a man she hardly knew, a man whose dark eyes smoldered with desire. A man who was far too tempting for her peace of mind.
Drawing her gaze from his, she wished him a good night and went to her room. Inside, she took several deep breaths. She had to accept the fact that she might be here for several days; weeks, perhaps. She couldn't contact Gail or Nana. She'd surely lose her job.
Standing there, it was hard to believe anyone wanted to do her harm. Easier to believe that Alexander had kidnapped her and brought her to this strange place for his own ends. She waited for some sense of fear, of terror, but none came. Instead, a creeping warmth spread through her as she thought of spending her days and nights here, alone, with Alexander Claybourne.
She remembered the nights he had met her in her grandmother's backyard. His kisses had been more potent than her grandfather's Irish whiskey, his voice husky with suppressed longing. The attraction that had sizzled between them had been dampened by Dale Barrett's attempt to hospitalize her, butit hadn't dissipated, not completely. It was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
Her stomach fluttered as she undressed, then slipped into the floor-length baby-blue nightgown Alexander had bought her. She smoothed her hands over the silky material, wondering what he would think if she went to his room and slid under the covers beside him.
It was a pleasant fantasy and she dwelled on it for several minutes before extinguishing the lamp and crawling into bed. The blanket smelled faintly of Alexander. She ran her hand over the pillow, imagining him lying there beside her, his big body sheltering hers.
Sleep was a long time coming.
Alexander paced the floor, his muscles taut as he pictured Kara in his room, lying in his bed, her head on his pillow. He had not stayed here for any length of time in years. Long ago, it had been his haven, a place of refuge, of safety. Now he came here only on rare occasions.
He prowled the room for several minutes, then wandered down the corridor. Pausing at Kara's room, he pressedhis ear to the door, comforted by the soft, steady sound of her breathing.
Whirling away from the door, he went outside and stood on the ledge that overlooked the fertile valley below. Lifting his arms overhead, his face turned up to the night sky, he absorbed the moon's pale silver light as another might bask in the golden glow of the sun.
Seconds lengthened into minutes. Eyes closed, he drew the moon's energy deep within the core of his being. The coolness of the light rejuvenated him; the faint whisper of the wind as it blew over the mountaintop filled him with a sense of peace. Of home . . .
Alexander swore softly. Why had he thought that? He had not thought of home in years. Now, a flood of memories spilled into his mind_recollections best forgotten, remembrances that could, after all these years, still cause him pain.
AnnaMara . . . AnTares . . .
Their names whispered through the corridors of his mind like the breeze filtering through the leaves of the trees. His arms felt suddenly heavy and he lowered them to his sides.
So many years had passed since he had last seen his home. So many years since he had last seen the dark mountains that surrounded the city where he had been born, their jagged peaks like the teeth of a sloe-eyed boar. He could almost hear the distant rumble of thunder as one of ErAdona's many dry storms passed overhead. And, if he closed his eyes, he could almost hear AnnaMara humming softly as she worked in the garden. Sweet, gentle AnnaMara . . .
"Alexander?"
With a start, he whirled around to find Kara standing in the moonlight. Clad in a long blue gown, she looked like a goddess bathed in quicksilver and shadow.
"Did you need something?" he asked.
"I had a bad dream and I . . . When I looked for you, you were gone."
"I was just getting somefresh air." He saw the curiosity in her eyes and wondered if she would put her question into words.
She hesitated for the space of a heartbeat. "Why were you standing in the moonlight like that?" For a moment, it had looked as though he had been absorbing the essence of the moonlight into his body, but that was ridiculous.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Almost like you were . . ." She shrugged. "I don't know. It looked pagan, somehow."
"Indeed? Are you afraid I might be planning to sacrifice you to some heathen god?"
"Of course not." In spite of her bold words, she took a step backward, folding her arms over her breasts in a protective gesture that was as old as time.
"You're quite safe, I assure you."
"When I couldn't find you, I went looking for another bedroom, but there isn't one. I didn't mean to put you out of your bed."
We could share it, you and I.The words, though unspoken, hovered between them.
Kara's gaze locked with Alexander's. Heat radiated from the depths of his black eyes, warming her as effectively as a furnace. She felt her limbs grow heavy, her knees weak. Her heart seemed to slow to a stop, and then it began to beat rapidly, as though she'd been running for miles in the hot sun.
"Kara . . ." His voice was low and rough, almost raw.
She tried to look away, but at that moment, no power on earth could have drawn her gaze from his. Desire blazed in his eyes, awakening an answering hunger deep within her being, making her yearn to be in his arms.
Alexander swore under his breath. It was wrong, and he knew it. But he reached for her anyway. And she stepped into his embrace willingly, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips as his arms closed around her.
"Alex?"
She tilted her head back, and he gazed into her eyes, beautiful blue eyes that were smoky with desire. Her lips parted invitingly; a faint flush pinked her cheeks.
With a groan, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her. A distant rumble of thunder echoed the hammering of his heart as he drew her closer, felt her body fit itself to his.
He drank from her lips, savoring her sweetness. She was warm in his arms, warm and willing. It would be so easy to take her, to sweep her into his arms and carry her to bed, to bury himself deep within her. So easy . . . and afterward, she would hate him for it, hate him for what he was, for not telling her the truth.
With an effort, he wrenched his mouth from hers and drew back. "Kara . . ."
"Don't talk. Just hold me."
And because he couldn't bear to let her go, he closed his eyes, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. He would hold her as often, and as long, as she would let him. And how long would that be, he wondered, when she knew what he was?
He didn't know how long they had been standing there when he felt her shiver against him.
"You're cold," he said, and lifting her into his arms, he carried her into the cavern.
He held her easily in one arm as he closed the door, and then he carried her into the main room and sat down on the sofa.
Kara closed her eyes, her head nestled against Alexander's shoulder. She felt a sudden warmth, and when she opened her eyes again, there was a fire in the hearth.
Kara lifted her head and stared at Alexander. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Light the fire."
"It was already lit."
"No, it wasn't."
Alex went suddenly still and, for a moment, Kara thought he had stopped breathing. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he settled her on the sofa and stood up.
"What's wrong, Alex?"
He looked into her eyes, those dreamy blue eyes that had captivated him from the beginning, and knew he couldn't deceive her any longer.
"There's something you need to know," he said heavily. "Something I should have told you a long time ago."
Kara's hand flew to her throat as an icy coldness spread over her. He had been hiding something from her. She had known it all along. Something about her condition, whatever it was. And from the look on his face, it wasn't good news. Dear Lord, had he brought her up here to tell her she was going to die?
She stared up at him, her heart pounding heavily. "What is it, Alex?"
Alexander swore a vile oath.Where to start?
"Alex, tell me!"
"Kara, do you remember I told you once that you must never love me, or trust me?"
"Yes." She frowned, wondering what that had to do with whatever it was that was wrong with her blood.
"Kara, I'm not from here."
She frowned. Not from Eagle Flats? What did that have to do with anything?
Alex shook his head. "I mean I'm not from Earth."
She stared at him blankly. She heard the words, but they made no sense. Not from Earth? What was he talking about?
"I came here more than two hundred years ago from a distant planet."
"Alex, this is no time for jokes."
"Believe me, I am not joking."
Kara grimaced. "Alex, please . . ."
"It's the truth."
Speechless, she continued to stare at him. It would have been easier to believe he was a vampire. At least vampires were, or had been, human . . . .
"You were right, Kara," he said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with your blood. Nor is there anything wrong with my blood."
He paused, and Kara stared at him, her breath trapped in her throat.
"There's nothing wrong with my blood," he repeated, and his voice was infinitely sad,"except that it's alien blood."
Alex ran a hand through his hair, determined to tell her the truth, or at least as much of it as he thought she could handle at the moment.
"Did you know Gail came to me when you were in the hospital? She thought I could help you. I don't know what drew me to your side that night, but I felt compelled to give you some of my blood. Even now, I'm not sure why."
He paused, his hands clenched into fists. "The same compulsion drew me back the next night. Then, when you were in the hospital in Grenvale, I learned there'd been some sort of drastic change in your blood, and I knew it had to be the result of mingling my blood with yours. The night I took you to my house, I caught a rat and fed it poison. When it was near death, I injected the rat with some of my blood. It recovered in less than a minute."
He paced the length of the floor, then stopped and stared into the fire. "Something in the air of your earth, the water, I don't know what, must have caused some kind of chemical mutation in my blood. I don't know what. I don't know why."
Kara couldn't speak. She could only stare at him. The rational part of her mind insisted that his story was simply too bizarre to be believed while another part, some tiny totally illogical part, had to smile. If Alex was to be believed, then Gail had been right all along. There were aliens. Perhaps there were vampires as well. Maybe Nessie did exist. And Big-foot.
Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't believe you. It's impossible."
"Maybe you'll believe this," he said, and turning away from her, he removed his shirt and trousers.
Kara stared at Alexander's back. Part of her mind registered the fact that he didn't wear anything underneath his clothes, that he was tall and broad-shouldered and perfectly formed, but even as she found herself admiring his well-muscled physique, she felt herself recoiling from the visible proof staring her in the face. A dark, diamond-shaped pattern ran down the length of his spine, feathered across his buttocks, and continued down the backs of his legs.
It reminded her of the kind of skin peculiar to the alien invaders she'd seen on an old TV series.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Convinced?" His voice was hard and cold and flat.
"What . . . is that?"
"It's perfectly normal."
"Normal?"
"Indeed."
Hardly aware that she was moving, Kara stood up and approached him. Hesitantly, she ran one fingertip over his spine, exploring the raised ridge of flesh that ran the length of his back. It felt coarser, thicker, than the rest of his skin, almost like soft leather. The dark stripe grew lighter in both color and texture as it continued below his waist and down the backs of his legs.
Repelled, yet curious, she touched him again, felt him shudder as her fingers brushed against his spine. Thinking she had hurt him in some way, she withdrew her hand.
But she couldn't tear her gaze away from his broad back, from that peculiar ridge of inhuman flesh. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. Alien. And even as she stared at his back, at the strangely compelling pattern on his spine, she found herself wondering if he was different from earthly men in other ways.
Riveted to the spot, she watched the play of muscles in his back as he slipped on his shirt and trousers.
Unable to help herself, she backed away from him when he turned around to face her.
"You're afraid of me now," he said, and there was a wealth of sadness in his voice.
Incapable of speech, Kara shook her head. Alien. Alien.The words repeated themselves in her mind.
The fear in her eyes pained Alex far more than he had anticipated.
"I won't hurt you, Kara," he said quietly. "I'd swear it on everything I once held dear if I thought you would believe me."
She swallowedhard, wishing she could think of something witty or brilliant to say. Instead, she felt her throat growthick, felt the sharp sting of tears behind her eyes.
"Kara, say something."
She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "Gail will be thrilled to know she was right," she murmured, and burst into tears.
He took a step toward her, wanting, needing, to comfort her, but her outthrust hand held him at bay.
"Don't touch me!" On the verge of hysteria, Kara turned and ran out of the room, sobbing.