Richart sighed. John had narrowed it down to two men he thought were the likeliest candidates, but really it could be any of them. “John, just do as we’ve asked,” he advised. “Behave as you normally would. No scowls or confrontations. And let your mother and me deal with this.”
When John opened his mouth to object . . . again . . . Richart held up a hand. “I know your every instinct tells you to protect your mother, but she can pick you up and toss you through that wall over there with very little effort now.”
John eyed his mother skeptically.
Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Want a demonstration?”
He cracked a smile. “No, ma’am.”
She winked.
“I guess it’s a good thing you couldn’t do that back when I was in high school and broke curfew.”
“I would have been seriously tempted.”
At last, John laughed and relaxed a bit. “Okay. I get it. I’ll stay out of it and let things play out the way you want them to.”
Richart clapped him on the back. “Excellent.” He motioned to the hallway. “Shall we, my love?”
The study group arrived. Jenna did her mother thing, asking if they liked their new classes, offering snacks and drinks, then said she was heading for bed.
Good nights trailed down the hallway after her as she entered her bedroom and swung the door until it was almost, but not quite, closed, leaving a little strip of light to illuminate her path to the bed.
Across the room, a shadow among shadows, Richart winked at her as she drew back the covers, climbed in fully clothed, then tugged them up to her neck. Quiet enfolded them, broken only by the mumbling of chemistry mumbo jumbo in the living room.
Richart’s heartbeat slowed until even Jenna had difficulty detecting it. But his scent lingered.
Won’t he smell you? she had asked, thinking it a dead giveaway, but Richart had shaken his head.
John has mentioned you’re seeing someone. He’ll just assume we slept together earlier and my scent lingers on you.
Why that had made her flush, she didn’t know.
Minutes passed. An hour. Finally someone mentioned using the bathroom and strode up the hallway. A click sounded as light brightened the hallway. The bathroom door closed, darkening it once more.
Footsteps, light enough to escape mortal detection, approached. The bedroom door swung open and closed so swiftly she almost missed it. A tall form approached the bed.
Jenna concentrated on keeping her heartbeat steady, her breath even. Not an easy task. She was nervous as hell.
The vampire leaned down over the bed. His eyes acquired an emerald glow as he drew closer to her. Through her lashes, she saw his lips part, watched his fangs descend. He reached for the covers and drew them down to bare her throat.
Jenna struck. Grabbing the vampire by the throat, she cut off the yelp of surprise he tried to emit, tossed him onto his back on the floor, and held him down.
Eyes wide, he struggled to peel her fingers away and bucked to try to dislodge her as she shoved her knee in his belly and held him down.
Holy crap. It really was easy. The strength and power she wielded was as exhilarating as a drug, eradicating her fear.
Richart stepped up beside her.
The vamp struggled even harder.
Smiling darkly, Richart touched Jenna’s shoulder and took them to a clearing not far from his home.
Jenna released her captive and rose.
The vampire scuttled backward like a crab until several yards separated them. Rising, he rubbed his neck and looked around with wild eyes.
“You’ve just experienced how powerful she is,” Richart warned. “She’ll catch you if you run.”
The vampire blurred as he lunged toward the trees.
Jenna beat him there.
Skidding to a halt, he darted in another direction.
Jenna blocked his way.
“What do you want?” he blurted, expression hostile.
He couldn’t be more than twenty years old, stood about five foot nine or so, and had a lean build.
“The lady has a question for you,” Richart answered. “I, personally, want to draw and quarter you.” He met Jenna’s gaze. “He’s the one who got away the night you were attacked.”
“Bullshit! I didn’t do anything!”
Richart’s face darkened. His eyes shone like spotlights as his lips peeled back in a snarl of rage, displaying his fangs. “You infected her!” he roared.
Jenna’s eyes widened. Richart was pissed!
“You knew her from John’s study group and led your vampire friends to her, knowing they would kill her. When that didn’t pan out, you fed from her while she slept! You preyed upon her when she was most vulnerable after she welcomed you into her home!”
The vampire backed away. “Fuck you!”
Jenna stepped forward. “Is that all you did?”
“What?”
“Is that all you did to me when you crept into my room and fed from me?”
Richart took a step toward him. “Answer the question. Did you touch her while you fed from her? After you fed from her?”
Jenna had been tormented by the knowledge that he might have.
“Fuck no!” the vamp nearly shouted. “She’s old enough to be my mother!”
Well, damn. He made it sound like he was afraid she’d give him the clap or something.
Richart took another menacing step forward.
The vampire skittered to the side, farther away from him. “Wait. You’re the Immortal Guardian who rescued her!” He drew a knife and settled into a crouch.
Jenna drew the pair of daggers Richart had given her earlier.
Richart drew his own. “Express a little remorse and I’ll consider letting you live.”
“Bullshit.”
“Some of your brethren have already joined us. You can, too, if you regret harming her.”
“Eat shit!” Darting to the side, the vampire swept past Richart and attacked Jenna.
Heart stopping, Jenna raised her daggers and fended off his every blow. The vampire seemed as untrained in battle as she was, swinging wildly with the desperate fury of a child taunted too many times by a bully, but hatred soon stole into his twisted features as a mad glint entered his eyes.
She deflected his blade with her own. His fist she blocked and countered with her own, fingers still curled around the hilts of her weapons, until . . .
A miscalculation.
One of her blades slid across his throat.
Warm blood slapped her in the face as the vampire stumbled backward, his gray shirt turning crimson.
Horrified, Jenna took a step toward him.