Night's Pleasure
Page 30

 Amanda Ashley

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Ten minutes later, the lights of the town cut through the darkness.
“So,” Rane asked, “where do you want to go?”
“To the Lobster Pot for dinner, and then for a walk through the town. And maybe a late movie?”
Rane parked on the street in front of the seafood restaurant and followed Savanah inside. Because it was during the week, the crowd was small and they were seated right away.
Savanah ordered a fried shrimp dinner. Rane ordered a glass of red wine.
“Does it bother you,” she asked, “to be in here?”
“No.” It wasn’t entirely true. The smells coming from the kitchen were unpleasant but not unbearable.
“When do you think I’ll be able to go home?”
“I don’t know. I should probably go back and see if anyone’s been there.”
“How would you know?”
“I’d know.”
“How?”
“My senses are much keener than yours. I can see things, smell things, that you’d never notice.”
“The way you smelled the Vampire who killed my father?”
“Exactly. I’ll know if she’s been there again.”
“I can’t stay here, hiding out, indefinitely. I have a life of my own.” She took a deep breath. “And I need to pursue the family business.”
“Killing Vampires?”
“Exactly.”
“So, you intend to take up where Daddy left off?”
“If I do nothing else, I intend to find and destroy the Vampire who killed him. And any other Vampires who get in my way.”
Rane suppressed a grin. It was big talk for an untried hunter whose head barely reached his shoulder, but he had to admire her grit.
“Does it bother you, my eating in front of you?” Savanah asked when the waitress arrived with her order.
“No.” He watched her take a bite. “Shrimp used to be one of my favorites. That and lobster.”
She speared one of the plump shrimp on her plate and dipped it in cocktail sauce. “Do you want to try one?”
He shook his head. He had tried solid food once, years ago. It was a mistake he remembered all too clearly—the salty taste of the meat, the vague smell of the wood it had been cooked over, the odd sensation of chewing, the revulsion when it had all come up again. It had been a harsh reminder that he was no longer human, and thus his body could no longer tolerate solid food. Nevertheless, his gaze lingered on the sauce. It was bright and red, like fresh blood.
Leaning back, Rane sipped his wine, ever aware of his surroundings, of the people coming and going. If he opened his senses, he could hear the conversations and thoughts emanating from everyone in the place, as well as what was going on in the kitchen, and in the alley beyond. As a new Vampire, he had often eavesdropped on the mortals around him, but the novelty had soon worn off. These days, he blocked all extraneous background noise and dialogue except when he was onstage, performing.
“Oh, my, that was good,” Savanah said, pushing her plate away. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Rane signaled the waitress for their check and they left the restaurant. Outside, he took Savanah’s hand in his and they walked down the street. She stopped to peer inside every shop window. It surprised her to notice that glass reflected his image, but mirrors backed by silver didn’t.
They walked to the end of the business district, then turned and started back up the other side of the street.
Savanah had stepped into some fancy boutique to try on a skirt she had seen in the window when Rane sensed the presence of another Vampire. It took only moments to locate her, a tall, slender female clad in cutoff jeans and a bright purple tank top. Curly brown hair fell in riotous waves down her back. She had recognized Rane, as well. Standing on the opposite side of the shop, she was staring back at him, her blue eyes narrowed, her body poised for flight.
A moment later, another female stepped out of one of the dressing rooms, her expression wary as her gaze zeroed in on Rane. She was younger than the first; her hair was blond and spiked. A tiger tattoo adorned her left shoulder.
They were both young, little more than fledglings.
He crossed the distance between them before they realized he had moved. “Who are you?” he asked. “Who made you?”
“Who are you?” the curly haired female retorted.
“Rane Cordova.”
The two females looked at each other, their eyes wide.
“I take it you’ve heard of me?” Rane asked dryly.
“Of course,” the brunette said. “The Cordova family is well-known.”
Rane didn’t deny it. His family was unique among Vampires, not only because their mother had been mortal or because Mara was godmother to himself and Rafe, but because her blood ran in their veins, inherited from their father. In Mara’s long life, she had bequeathed a taste of her blood to only a few. There were some in the Vampire community who were willing to go to any lengths to procure a little of her ancient blood for themselves. It was most effective when taken directly from the source, but there were some who wouldn’t be adverse to getting it secondhand. Mara’s blood had made Rane unusually strong, but not equal to Rafe or their father, both of whom had drunk from her and were therefore able to walk in the sun’s light. As he had before, Rane wished fleetingly that he had taken Mara up on her offer before she left for Egypt.
“I’m waiting,” he said tersely.
“I’m Nona,” the curly haired female said. “I was made by Richard Sachs two years ago.”
“I’m Teri,” the other female said. “Nona made me five months ago.”
“Do you have leave from Mara to dwell here?”
The two females exchanged looks that told Rane everything he needed to know.
“What about you?” Nona asked, going on the defensive. “Do you have Mara’s permission?”
“Damn right. And I want both of you out of here before sunrise.”
“This isn’t your territory,” Nona exclaimed. “You can’t make us leave.”
“You think not?” Rane summoned his power, felt it roll off him like heat lightning.
The young Vampires felt it, too. With a shriek, Nona grabbed her friend’s hand and bolted out the door.
“Well,” Savanah remarked, coming up behind him. “What was that all about?”
“That skirt looks good on you,” he said, turning to face her.
“Thank you, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
He shrugged. “Just a little Vampire business.”
“Oh?” She glanced out the door, but the two women were already out of sight. “Did you know them? Was one of them the one who killed my father?”
“No.”
“Why did they leave in such a hurry?”
“They’ve got no business here.”
“In the store? Why not?”
“In the town. This is Mara’s territory. She doesn’t allow any other Vampires except those she invites.”
“How do you know she didn’t invite them?”
“I would have known. Mara would have marked them.”
“Marked them how?”
Rane shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it to you. When cats want to mark something as theirs, they rub against it. It’s the same idea.”
“So, you’re saying those Vampires would have smelled like Mara?” Savanah asked, looking skeptical.
“Something like that.”
“Do you know where they’re staying?”
“Why? Are you planning to take their heads?”
“It crossed my mind,” Savanah replied flippantly. “I’m supposed to be a hunter, after all.”
But they were empty words, and they both knew it. She lacked the knowledge, the expertise, and the desire to hunt down those two young women and destroy them. Except for their pale skin, they had looked just like the other women in the shop.
“I need to pay for this,” she said. “It won’t take more than a few minutes.”
With a nod, Rane watched Savanah retreat into the dressing room. She talked a good fight, he thought, but only time would tell whether she had the fortitude to plunge a stake into a Vampire’s heart.
Savanah pressed her forehead against the dressing room door. Vampires, here, in the town. Were they everywhere? she wondered as she pulled on her jeans and straightened her sweater. After stepping into her sandals, she collected her handbag and the skirt she had tried on and left the dressing room. She glanced around, searching for Rane. He was standing by the door with his back toward her.
She paid for the skirt, grabbed the bag with a mumbled thank-you, and hurried toward him.
He turned at her approach.
Savanah skidded to a stop, alarmed by the peculiar glow in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
He looked away for a moment; when he looked at her again, the glow was gone.
Had she imagined it?
He held out his hand. “Are you ready to go?”
With a nod, she put her hand in his, and felt the same little tingle she had experienced when she saw the two female Vampires in the store.
“What’s wrong?” Rane asked.
“I don’t know.” She stared at their clasped hands. She had felt the sensation before, with Rane, but had always thought it was just her hormones jumping into overdrive whenever he was near.
“Savanah?”
“I felt something…”
“What do you mean?”
“Just now…and in the store…I felt…I don’t know how to describe it. A kind of tingling.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve always thought it was just my reaction to you, but I felt it in the store when I passed those women….”
Rane swore softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’d venture to say what you’re feeling is a legacy from your mother.”
“What do you mean? What kind of legacy?”