The Vampire’s Kiss(12)
Author: Cynthia Eden

She took several deep, gasping breaths. And she willed the sickness to pass. Slowly, the trembling left her body. The dizziness faded. And the darkness vanished.

She crept slowly down the remaining stairs. That had been too close. She had to get her pills.

A phone sat on a table at the base of the stairs. She picked up the receiver and dialed information.

«Yes, hello. What city? Um, Tyler, North Carolina. Yes, I need the number for a cab company. What? Thanks.»

Savannah disconnected the call and quickly punched the number for the cab. A gruff voice answered on the second ring.

«Mel’s Cabs.»

«Yes, I need for a cab to come and pick me up.” She rubbed her temple and glanced around the shadowed foyer. “As soon as possible.»

«Where are you, Ma’am?»

Savannah rattled off William’s address.

A soft whistle blew over the line. “Up on the mountain, huh? It’ll be at least an hour before I can get anyone up there.»

Savannah’s lips tightened. “Fine. Just tell your driver to hurry, okay?” The sooner she got back to her hotel room, the better it would be for her.

«Will do, Ma’am.»

Savannah sighed and replaced the receiver. She glanced around, wondering how she could possibly occupy her time until the cab arrived. She didn’t want to go back to her room. She couldn’t risk another dizzy spell that might send her stumbling down the stairs.

A door to her right stood open, and a soft light shone from within. It was the same room that she’d entered the first night she’d met William. She crept slowly toward the room.

No fire burned in the fireplace. The light came from a small lamp in the corner. She walked toward the lamp. And she saw the diary. Henry’s diary. It rested on the table closest to the lamp.

She picked it up, her fingers running lightly over the engraved crest. She traced the shield, and the detailed design of a hawk that lined its surface. This diary had led her to William.

She sighed. What was she to do about William? Could she really agree to his bargain?

She thought of her brother and the screams that still echoed in her mind. Could she allow her brother’s killer to go unpunished?

Still holding the diary, she sat down in one of the high-backed chairs in the corner. Her fingers continued to trace the crest.

What should she do?

* * * *

Two hours later, she was back at the Traveler’s Inn.

The hotel room looked exactly as she’d left it. She locked the door behind her and hurried toward the nightstand drawer. She pulled open the drawer and grabbed her pills. She swallowed two quickly, not even taking the time to get a glass of water.

She stared down at the bottle, hating it, hating her reliance on the wretched pills. She couldn’t even go for a single day without them.

What would it be like to be strong? To be free of the pain? Free of the terrible need for those little white pills?

William could give her that freedom.

Her fingers clenched around the pill bottle.

A loud knock sounded at her door. She jerked around. The knock sounded again. Her door shook slightly.

She carefully replaced the pills and walked slowly toward the door. She leaned forward, peering through the peephole.

A man stood on the other side of her door. His features were tense, almost angry. As she stared at him, he lifted his hand and pounded again.

«Ms. Daniels? I know you’re in there. Please, open the door. I have to speak with you.»

She frowned. How did this stranger know her name?

«Please, Ms. Daniels. I have some information for you regarding your brother’s killer.»

Her eyes widened and she stepped quickly back from the door. She hurried to the closet and pulled a small, locked box from its darkened interior. She punched in the lock’s combination, and, with a soft click, the box opened.

A gleaming black handgun rested inside.

She lifted the gun, and with hands that were rock steady, she loaded the bullets. She checked the safety, making certain the mechanism was in place. She stood, holding the gun at her side, and walked carefully toward the door.

She opened the door a tiny bit, barely two inches, keeping the golden top lock in place. “Who are you?»

«My name’s Jack Donovan.” A soft, southern drawl accented his words. He had dark hair, perhaps a shade lighter than William’s, and smooth, handsome features. Savannah surveyed him quickly. He was tall, probably six-two or six-three. His body was muscled, fit. She judged that he was in his early thirties, maybe a little younger.

He was dressed casually, in loose jeans and a black pullover. Both of his hands were lifted in the air, as if he wanted to prove to her that he was no threat.

Savannah didn’t open the door another inch. She didn’t trust this man, this Jack Donovan. There was something about him that put her on edge.

«How do you know who I am, Jack Donovan?” She asked softly, her gaze firmly locked on his.

His blue eyes held her stare. “I’m a private investigator.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been following you.»

«What?»

He glanced quickly over his shoulder. “Look, I really don’t want to discuss this outside, Okay? Let me in, and I’ll tell you as much as I can.»

Savannah hesitated. She didn’t know him, and she sure as hell didn’t trust him. “I don’t think so.»

A door slammed down the hall. Jack swore softly. “Lady, you’re in danger. You’re going to get yourself killed!»

She lifted one brow. “I’m dying. What’s the difference?” Her smile mocked him. If he’d been investigating her, then he had to know about her condition.

A muscle jerked along the column of his jaw. “The difference is the way that you go. Easy, lying in a hospital bed. Or screaming in agony as all the blood is drained from your body.»

Her smile vanished.

«Let me come in.” His gaze was intent. “We can help each other if you will just let me in.»

Her fingers tightened around the handle of the gun. It felt cold, heavy. Reassuring. “All right, you can come inside. But only for a moment.»

He nodded and again glanced over his shoulder.

Savannah hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. She would hate to have to kill Mr. Jack Donovan. She pulled open the lock and stepped back. He hurried inside.

Savannah silently watched him as he headed toward the center of the room. She shut the door, turning the lock to keep out any more visitors. Then she lifted the gun. She pulled back the safety. The soft click seemed to echo in the room.

Jack spun around, eyes wide. “Hold on!” He lifted his hands, palms out. “I’m not here to hurt you!»