Home > Forbidden Nights with a Vampire (Love at Stake #7)(34)

Forbidden Nights with a Vampire (Love at Stake #7)(34)
Author: Kerrelyn Sparks

"No." Phil walked toward her. "The Malcontents know about it. It has a good alarm system, but that doesn't stop them from invading."

"Romatech?"

"All the Romatechs are in danger." Phil retrieved a cell phone from his pocket. "Howard has a cabin in the Adirondacks. I've been there a few times for...hunting trips. I'll call, and the answering machine will pick up. Then you can focus on Howard's recorded message and teleport us there. Okay?"

"No."

Phil paused in the middle of punching the number. "What?"

Vanda stood. "I'm not going with you."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not giving you any choice."

She lifted her chin. "I'm the one doing the teleporting. I can go wherever I please. On my own."

He stepped toward her. "Where are you going?"

She shrugged. "I...know the Carpathian Mountains really well."

"You plan to hide in caves? Sounds comfy."

"Once I'm in my death-sleep, a dirt floor isn't any different than a soft mattress."

He moved closer. "And who will guard you during the day?"

"No one." She tightened the whip around her waist. "I survived like that before. I can do it again."

His jaw shifted as he ground his teeth. "You were alone before. You are not alone now."

"I was alone because Karl died protecting me. I'm not going to let that happen to you."

"It won't happen. I'm a hell of a lot tougher than Karl."

"You never even knew him - "

"I know enough! And I will not allow you to go through this alone."

"You don't have a choice." She searched her psychic memory for a cave in the Carpathians.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't do it. It could be daylight there."

Damn. He might be right. Teleporting to the east was a very risky business. "It won't be daylight in the cave."

"How long has it been since you were there? Over fifty years? The cave could have changed. You could end up teleporting into solid rock."

She swallowed hard.

"You're teleporting to the cabin and taking me with you." He punched in the number. "End of discussion."

She glared at him. "Are you always so overbearing?"

"When it comes to your safety, yes." He held her tight and lifted the phone to her ear. "Do it."

She concentrated on the recorded message, and in a few seconds they materialized in a dark room. Phil released her then, and pocketed his cell phone. She glimpsed brown log walls and the gray stones of a huge fireplace. Moonlight filtered through windows and glinted off...eyeballs.

She gasped, then spun around, looking for Phil. He was moving through the kitchen to the back door. "Phil?"

"Right here." He flipped on the lights.

She turned back to the eyeballs. The head of a deer was mounted on the wall. A giant moose head hung over the fireplace. And some sort of wild pig with tusks hung over the bookcase. "There are dead animals on the walls."

"This is a hunting cabin."

She shuddered. "They're looking at me." And saying, you're next. "I'm surprised you don't have a bearskin rug on the floor."

He winced. "Howard wouldn't go for that. And they're not looking at you. Those eyeballs are glass." He opened the fridge and peered inside.

"I guess you and Howard killed them?"

"Yeah." He set a bottle of beer on the counter and unscrewed the top. "We're...hunters."

She wrapped her arms around herself. She'd been a hunter once, too. She'd started off using her teleportation skills to hunt for her father and brothers in the prison camps. But then she'd seen the hideous cruelty, and something had snapped. Instead of hunting for those she loved, she hunted for those she hated. Prison guards, Nazis. A vampire had to feed every night, so why not do it and rid the world of monsters at the same time?

But Jedrek Janow had discovered her scheme, and she had become the hunted one.

She perched on the arm of a brown leather couch. "I'm a little sensitive about being hunted."

"You're safe here." Phil took a drink. "Only Howard, Connor, and I know about this place."

"That's good." She looked around.

On the back of the couch lay a hand-woven blanket with a Native American design. The couch faced the fireplace, with a coffee table scarred and imprinted with drink rings. An old recliner and floor lamp rested close to the bookcase.

A staircase led up to a loft. She could see several beds up there, all covered with colorful quilts.

Phil was still in the kitchen, sipping his beer. The heat from the explosion must have made him thirsty. Close by, a wooden dinette table and chairs sat on a braided rug.

She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself she was really safe. "Is there any synthetic blood in the fridge?"

"No. Are you hungry?"

"Not now, but I usually have a snack before dawn, and I'll be very hungry when I wake up."

"I'll arrange a delivery when I report in to Connor. I need to make sure Phineas got back to Romatech all right."

She wondered if Phil was going to be in trouble for running off with her instead of staying at Romatech. "Where should I sleep? Is there a basement?"

"There is, but it has windows." He opened a door underneath the staircase. "When Connor comes here, he sleeps in the closet."

"Oh. Okay."

Phil smiled and returned to the kitchen. He took a flashlight from a cabinet. "I'll check the perimeter. Make yourself at home." He went out the back door.

With a groan, she glanced at the dead deer. "Life sucks, huh?"

She checked the bolt on the front door. A Malcontent could just teleport inside to kill her, but at least the bolted door would stop any deer or moose relatives intent on revenge.

The closet under the staircase was surprisingly roomy. It was bare except for a row of shelves at one end. She pulled a blanket and quilt off a shelf and spread them on the wooden floor. Then she wandered through the small kitchen. Some clean clothes were stacked on top of the dryer. Flannel pajama pants, T-shirts, a navy terry-cloth bathrobe.

A nearby door opened onto a small bathroom. She grabbed the bathrobe and locked herself inside. She glanced at the mirror above the vanity. Nothing. The only thing she could see reflected was the claw-footed old bathtub behind her. She kicked her boots off. Good Lord, she hated mirrors. They made her feel like...nothing. Small and worthless.

I think, therefore I am, she reminded herself. She had feelings, hopes, and dreams, just like a live person.

But her dreams had just been crushed. Her eyes misted with unshed tears.

She untied her whip and slipped out of her catsuit. While the tub filled with hot water, she rinsed out her underwear and bra in the sink. She hung them to dry on the towel bar.

She settled in the deep tub, letting the hot water seep into her cold bones. She closed her eyes, hoping to relax, but her mind filled with a vision of smoke and fire.

She'd loved that club. She'd designed it, furnished it, decorated it. She'd auditioned the dancers and hired the waiters. It had been her refuge from the cruel world. A place where she controlled everything, and everyone did as she commanded. It was a sanctuary where she never had to feel small and never had to endure the pain from her past again.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. What was she going to do now? Spend the rest of eternity hiding, quaking in fear, with nothing to do but relive the horrors of her past?

She shampooed her singed hair, then ducked under the water to rinse it off. Her face burned. That was her fault. She shouldn't have waited so long to teleport herself and Phil away from danger. But she hadn't quite believed his story about the bomb. How on earth could he have known it was in her file cabinet?

She climbed from the tub, dried off, and put on the terry-cloth robe. It was obviously made for a man. The shoulder seams hung halfway to her elbows, and the sleeves fell past her fingertips. She rolled up the sleeves, belted it tight around her waist. The robe was designed for a man's broad chest, so she flipped the collar inward to help cover her cle**age.

She grabbed her whip and padded into the kitchen. The lights had been turned off, and a big fire blazed in the hearth. She dropped the whip on the coffee table. Was Phil trying to make the place look romantic? Candles flickered on the mantelpiece. And the moose that had been overhead was now gone. She whirled around. The deer and wild pig were gone, too.

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