Everlasting Kiss

A frantic glance around the room showed there was no place to run, nothing she could use for a weapon. She had only her wits and her bare hands, neither of which would repel him. Resigned, she closed her eyes and waited.

Erik scrubbed his hands up and down his thighs, annoyed that he had frightened her. Did she really think he was keeping her here as some kind of midnight snack?

Dammit, he was trying to protect her from a vicious killer. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he heard the voice of his conscience, laughing. Rhys wasn’t the only vicious killer. As a young vampire, Erik had committed acts he now regretted, done things he was bitterly ashamed of.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face her. "Daisy? Daisy, look at me."

She opened her eyes ever so slowly. Their vivid green accentuated her pale face.

"I’m not going to hurt you."

"I’d like to believe that," she said. "I really would, but…just now…your eyes…"

"Yes, I know, they turn red when…" He made a vague gesture with his hand.

"When you’re hungry? Thirsty?"

"Either one will do." He took a step toward the sofa, but stopped when she recoiled. "I’m sorry I frightened you, but you’re a very desirable woman in more ways than one."

She blinked up at him, certain that, as prey, she shouldn’t be flattered by his words. After all, she was pretty sure that zebras weren’t flattered when stalked by hungry lions.

Erik blew out a sigh. Affairs with female vampires weren’t nearly as difficult, which was why he had avoided emotional entanglements with human females for the last three hundred years.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, "How can I convince you that I’m not going to hurt you?"

"You can let me go home."

"Is that what you really want?"

"Yes, of course." But even as she spoke the words, Daisy found herself having second thoughts. A vampire as old as Rhys could probably be out and about both day and night. If Erik truly meant her no harm, she was probably safer here, with him, than at home, alone. Unless she could get Nonnie to come and stay with her. She was pretty sure Nonnie would be able to protect her. But was she sure enough to bet her life, or her grandmother’s, on it?

Erik remained silent as he watched Daisy wage a silent war with herself, trying to decide who presented more danger to her survival, himself or Rhys. In the long run, it didn’t matter what she decided, because she was staying whether she liked it or not.

"Will it ever be safe for me to go home?" she asked with a sigh of resignation.

"I don’t know."

"I could go stay with Nonnie." She voiced the suggestion aloud, curious to see Erik’s reaction.

"Who’s that?"

"My grandmother. She’s the one who made my compass. Since she magicked a way for me to locate vampires, I’m sure she could conjure something to protect me from Rhys."

"And from me?"

Her gaze slid away from his.

It was all the answer he needed. "Where does she live?"

"In Boca Raton. She has a gift shop there."

"Is she a hunter, too?"

"No. She sells handmade jewelry and seashells. And an occasional charm or two."

"And you think she can protect you from Rhys?"

Daisy nodded, although she wasn’t sure at all.

"I’ll think about it," Erik said. "Right now, I’ve got to meet Rhys."

"You won’t tell him I’m here?"

"What do you think?"

"I’m sorry, it was a silly question."

"I’ll be back soon," he said, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. "Behave yourself while I’m gone."

Stifling the urge to stick her tongue out at him, she watched him leave the house, although leave wasn’t exactly the right word. He didn’t go out the door, he merely dissolved into a mist of sparkling dove gray motes and vanished from her sight.

Daisy stared at the place where he had stood only moments before, then shook her head.

"If I could do that," she muttered, "I wouldn’t have to worry about Rhys or anyone else."

When Erik arrived at La Morte Rouge, Rhys was waiting for him at the bar.

"So, you’re here. Are you ready for dessert?" Rhys asked with a good-natured grin.

Erik shrugged. "Sure, I could use a bite or two." Or three or four, he thought, his hunger rising as his nostrils filled with the mingled scents of warm blood and desire that filled the air.

He glanced around the club, noting the usual Sunday night crowd was in full swing. The human females wore provocative clothing, mostly black, that bared their throats and a good deal of cle**age. Of course, none of them used their real names. Instead, they wore delicate brooches inscribed with the French names they were known by in the club–Monique, Babette, Fifi. The males wore vests and slacks, again, mostly black, and had names like Henri, Etienne, and Jacques.

"I’ve reserved two rooms," Rhys remarked, slapping Erik on the shoulder. "Monique is already waiting for you in number three. I’ll meet you back here later."

Erik nodded. He watched Rhys stride across the floor toward room six where his choice of the night awaited. Rhys didn’t have a favorite at the club. His usual requirement was that his companion for the evening be young, female, and blonde.

Wondering why he felt a sudden twinge of guilt, Erik went into room three. The rooms at the club were all decorated with Louis XV furniture and artwork. The bed linen was changed after each visit. A small bathroom provided a place to wash up after each encounter, if necessary.

Monique was waiting for him on the bed, a smile of welcome on her face. She was a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, with a toned body and tanned skin. Long red hair framed an oval face. He had been visiting her regularly ever since he moved to California. Some nights he wanted only to feed, some nights he satisfied his other hungers.

"Good evening," she purred. "What are you in the mood for tonight, mon chevalier fonce?"

Erik snorted softly. Her dark knight, indeed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushed the hair away from her neck, then bent to drop kisses along the smooth curve of her throat.

With a sigh, she surrendered to him, willing to give whatever he asked.

Erik fed quickly, wishing all the while that it was Daisy in his arms. After closing the wounds in Monique’s neck, he kissed her cheek, then gained his feet. "Till next time, cherie."

"I was hoping you’d stay till morning," Monique said, pouting prettily. "It’s been a long time since we shared a night together."

He forced a smile. "Another time. Rhys is waiting for me."