Night’s Touch (Children of The Night #2)(9)
Author: Amanda Ashley

“As long as you’re here, you might as well sit down,” she said, gesturing at one of the deck chairs.

“Thanks.”

He sat where she indicated, and she sat in the chair across from him. She wondered what her father would do if he came to check on her again and found her sitting out here with a stranger, then shrugged her worries aside. Her father had already checked on her once; he wasn’t likely to return at this time of the night.

Cara bit down on the inside corner of her bottom lip. Now that she had invited Vince to stay, she was at a loss for words. She was basically shy around strangers and had never been any good at making small talk.

Searching for a safe topic of conversation, she said, “Tell me about yourself. I don’t even know your last name.”

“It’s Cordova,” he said. “As for my life story, there’s not much to tell. I’m a mechanic. I own my own shop. I’ve got three brothers, a sister, and a bad-tempered cat.”

“A cat? Most guys don’t like cats.”

“I don’t like this one, either.”

“Then why do you have it?”

“Somebody ran it over. I found it in some bushes, half dead. I couldn’t just leave it there.” He didn’t tell her that the cat had turned up the night after he’d been made, or that, driven by an unholy hunger, he had licked the blood from the cat’s wounds. Surprisingly, the cat had recovered. “What about you?” he asked, glancing around. “It’s obvious that your folks are well-off. I guess that explains the bodyguard.”

She regarded him warily. What if Vince wasn’t the nice, easygoing guy he seemed to be? What if he was only showing interest in her because he knew her father was rich? What if he had come in hopes of kidnapping her and holding her for ransom? What if he was a robber, or a murderer, or worse? Maybe she did need a bodyguard!

“I think you’d better go,” she said, hating the sudden tremor in her voice. She told herself there was nothing to be afraid of. One scream would rouse the household and bring Di Giorgio and her father running.

“Did I say something wrong?” Vince asked, frowning.

“Why did you really come here?”

His gaze moved over her, as hot and tangible as a summer breeze. “Because I was afraid you might never come back to the club, and I’d never see you again.”

At his words, Cara’s heart skipped a beat.

“I know we’ve just met,” Vince said, “and you have no reason to believe me, or trust me, but…” He shook his head. “I just wanted to see you again.”

Right or wrong, foolish or not, she believed him.

Vince gained his feet. “I’m sorry if I was out of line. Go on back inside. I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”

She stared up at him, her heart pounding, and then she whispered, “Don’t go.”

Chapter 5

As soon as she uttered the words, Cara had second thoughts. What was she doing? Vince was a stranger to her. They had shared nothing more than a drink and a dance in a nightclub. She knew nothing about him save what he had told her, and for all she knew, everything he’d said could be a lie. How many times had her father and mother warned her to be careful of strangers?

She bit down on her lower lip. Maybe she was an idiot; maybe she was no better than those foolish girls who got into cars with guys they didn’t know and then wound up dead in a ditch with no one to blame but themselves.

She lifted her gaze to his. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then his soul was dark and haunted, and yet she had no sense of being in danger. He might be dangerous, she thought, but not to her. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.

“Cara.” His voice was thick with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “I think I’d better go.”

“Why?” She reached out, as if to stop him, then let her hand fall to her side.

“It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“You, too. You probably have to open your shop early in the morning.”

He didn’t answer, but merely grunted softly.

“Will you be at The Nocturne tomorrow night?” she asked.

A faint smile played over his lips. “I will if you will.”

“I’ll be there.” As if drawn by an invisible hand, she took a step toward him.

He moved toward her, his gaze burning into hers. “What time?”

“Nine-thirty.” They were only a breath apart now.

“Nine-thirty,” he repeated. “I’ll see you then.”

Heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it, she waited for him to kiss her.

Instead, he turned and walked away.

Cara stared after him as he went down the winding staircase, disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her good night. It wasn’t until he disappeared into the shadows that she wondered how he was going to get through the gate.

Vince ghosted through the darkness to where he had left his car. He noted in passing that the man, Anton, had gone. Anton. There was something about the man that rubbed Vince the wrong way. Of course, it might be nothing more than a bad case of good, old-fashioned jealousy, but he didn’t think so. There was something dark and sinister about the man.

Vince laughed. Dark and sinister. That was rich! There weren’t many things walking around that were darker or more sinister than what he himself had become.

Vince the vampire. Even now, almost a year later, he still couldn’t believe what had happened to him.

He slid behind the wheel of the Mustang and pulled away from the curb. Vampire. He supposed he had been like everyone else on the planet, assuming vampires were creatures of myth and legend, until the night he had the misfortune to pick up the wrong chick. He shook his head. She hadn’t looked like a vampire, he thought glumly, let alone one that was thousands of years old! She’d had the body of a siren and the face of an angel, and he’d been helpless to resist her.

He laughed softly, bitterly. As the old saying went, he had chased her until she caught him. They had been in the middle of the best sex he’d ever had when she’d sunk her fangs into his throat. That was his first hint that she wasn’t an ordinary female. The second had come when he tried to fight her off. She was just a little thing, hardly more than five feet tall, and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she’d held him down with one hand, and when he had gotten desperate and drove his fist into her face, she had laughed at him. Then she had drained him to the point of death and given him a choice—live or die.