His Dark Embrace(49)
Author: Amanda Ashley

“All right, calm down. I’ll find him.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I can search faster on my own.”

“But … oh, right.” She smiled faintly. “Vampire.”

“Right,” he said with a wink. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. It shouldn’t take long to hunt him down.”

Taking Sky by the hand, he walked her across the street. He paused on the sidewalk in front of the house. Lifting his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It took only moments to sort Sam’s scent from all the others.

“Go inside and lock the door,” Thorne said.

“What about Sam?”

“I’ve got his scent. It won’t be hard to follow. Don’t answer the door for anyone but me.”

She looked at him, frowning, and then, remembering Girard, she nodded. “Be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it.”

Smiling, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. “And I love you for it. Now go inside so I’ll know you’re safe.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed for the porch.

Thorne watched her run up the walkway. When she reached the foot of the porch steps, she turned and waved, then hurried up the stairs and into the house.

He waited until he heard the turn of the lock before starting off down the street.

As he followed the boy’s scent, Thorne thought about his own past. He could sympathize with Skylynn’s brother even though he, himself, had never lost his memory. Still, when he had become a vampire, he had lost everything that was familiar to him. Fear of discovery had kept him away from his favorite gaming halls and the young men of his acquaintance. And it had forever destroyed any hope, however faint it might have been, of repairing the riff with his parents, something he had not realized he wanted until it was beyond his reach.

Once Death had abandoned him, he had wandered across the countryside feeling lost and alone, cut off from everything and everyone he knew. In those days, filled with anger and resentment, he had often killed those he preyed upon. As a young vampire, those deaths had meant nothing to him. Now, older and wiser, denied the pleasures of home and family, he realized how precious mortal life was. And with that knowledge had come an abiding regret for the lives he had so thoughtlessly and callously taken.

He followed Sam’s trail into a local tavern. His relief at finding the boy was quickly replaced by alarm when he recognized the woman sitting beside him.

Cassandra. What the devil was she doing here?

She glanced over her shoulder as he walked up behind her. “Kaiden. How nice to see you.”

“Cassandra.” He glanced from his maker to Sam and back again. “What’s going on here?”

She smiled as she brushed a lock of hair from Sam’s brow. “I’ve just been buying this darling boy a drink.”

“More than one, I’d say.” It was obvious that Sam was far from sober.

Cassandra lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I may have lost count.”

Sam glared at Thorne. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone belligerent and thick with whiskey.

“I’ve come to take you home. Skylynn is worried about you.”

“Worried? Hah!” He swayed unsteadily on the bar stool. “She don’t give a damn about me. Go way.”

“Really, Kaiden, I’m not going to hurt the boy,” Cassandra said. “I’m just trying to ease his pain.”

“Yeah? Well, I’d say you’ve done a helluva job. I doubt if he’s feeling much of anything right now.”

“What does it matter to you?” she demanded, all trace of sweetness gone from her voice.

“He’s a friend of mine. Come on, kid, I’m taking you home.”

Sam shook his head. “Wanna stay here.”

“You see? He wants to stay here. And I want him to stay.”

Thorne braced himself as her eyes flashed red. It was a warning he recognized. A moment later, her power enveloped him, stealing his breath, pressing in on him until it felt as if he was being crushed.

It took every ounce of control he possessed to swallow the groan that rose in his throat.

She smiled smugly when she released him. “I want him,” she repeated.

Thorne shook his head. “You’ll have to fight me for him.”

Cassandra uttered a word once only seen scrawled on the walls of the men’s room. “Don’t be a fool. You’re no match for me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t go back and tell his sister I failed.”

“Hey,” Sam said. “What the hell are you two talkin’ about?”

Cassandra patted Sam’s shoulder. “Nothing for you to worry about, my pet. Finish your drink.”

“No.” Thorne plucked the shot glass from the bar and dumped the contents on the floor. “He’s had enough.”

“Hey!” Sam took a swing at Thorne, his arms flailing as he lost his balance and started to topple off the bar stool.

Swearing with disgust, Thorne caught the kid before he hit the ground, slung him over his shoulder, and held him there with one hand.

“We’re leaving, Cassandra. And even though you’re older than I am, I want to remind you that the ancient laws still apply.”

“Don’t talk to me about the laws,” she snapped. “I made them.”

“Maybe so, but this is still my territory and you’re here at my discretion.”

And so saying, he turned his back on the vampire who had sired him and stalked out of the tavern.

Skylynn breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the door and saw Kaiden standing there with Sam cradled in his arms.

“Is he all right?” she asked anxiously.

“He’s drunk,” Thorne replied. “Where do you want him?”

“Upstairs. His bedroom is down the hall from mine.”

With a nod, Thorne followed Sky up to Sam’s room, waited while she drew back the covers before lowering her brother onto the bed.

“Do you want me to undress him?” he asked.

“Thank you. I’ll wait downstairs.”

In the living room, Sky sank down on the sofa, but she was too keyed up to sit still. Rising, she went into the kitchen, thinking a cup of hot chocolate might relax her, only to find that, after she fixed it, she didn’t want it. She poured it down the drain, then stood there, staring out the window.

What was she going to do about Sam? He had never been much of a drinker before he left home. What other bad habits had he picked up along the way? Had he turned into an alcoholic, or was that just a one-time bender born out of desperation and despair?