She gave herself permission to spend the rest of the day grieving for what might have been. She relived every memory, recalled every word Erik had spoken, wept for the love they had shared, and then wrapped up all the memories and locked them away in the back of her mind. Later, she took down the painting he had given her, wrapped it in plastic, and stowed it in the back of her closet. From now on, she would concentrate on the future and forget about the past.
Tomorrow, she would call a real estate agent and put the house up for sale.
The decision brought with it a sense of peace. She would go home and lick her wounds. Thanks to Alex's generosity, she could take a long vacation. Maybe she would look for a new line of work. One thing was for certain. She, Daisy Louise O'Donnell, had had her fill of vampires.
Damon stood outside the woman's house for the second time in as many nights, his anger growing with every moment. From time to time, she passed in front of one of the windows. He stared at her, imprinting her features on his mind. She was a pretty woman, but he was blind to her physical beauty. He saw only a puny mortal who was partly responsible for killing the woman he loved.
He cursed softly. Had Mariah been honest with him, had she taken him into her confidence about what she had planned, she would still be alive. But she had always treated him like he was still a punk kid, forcing him to sneak around, trailing after her like some pathetic creature who couldn't be trusted, leaving him to watch from the shadows while she put her plan into action, just as he had stood in the shadows and watched this mortal female and her brother betray Mariah into the hands of the Master of the City.
Damon expelled a deep breath. He knew what he was doing was dangerous, knew that should he be caught, he would be destroyed, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now but avenging Mariah's death. How she would laugh at that, Damon thought bitterly. A muscle clenched in his jaw. Perhaps if he had been more assertive, she would have treated him with respect. But it was too late to think about that now.
Damon closed his eyes, remembering how he had followed her that last night. Hands clenched into tight fists, he had watched her walk into a trap. As much as he had loved Mariah, his sense of self-preservation had kept him from going to her aid. Not that he could have stood against the Master of the City. Rhys Costain's fury was something Damon hoped never to see again. Mariah had been powerless against the older vampire.
Damon grinned into the darkness. He might not be able to best Costain in a fight, but he was strong enough to execute Costain's two mortal accomplices. It wouldn't bring Mariah back, Damon mused as he crossed the street toward the woman's house, but it would do wonders for his self-esteem.
Daisy was getting ready for bed when the doorbell rang. She knew it wasn't Erik, told herself she didn't want it to be Erik, but she couldn't suppress the rush of anticipation that swelled in her breast as she slipped into her bathrobe, then hurried down the stairs to answer the door.
Even though she hadn't really been expecting Erik, she couldn't stifle her disappointment when she saw the young man standing on the other side of the door. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so." He gestured at his oil-stained jeans. "My car broke down and my cell phone's dead, and..." His eyelids fluttered down and he swayed unsteadily on his feet.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, ma'am, it's just that..." He braced one hand on the door frame. "I lost someone I loved recently, and I haven't felt much like eating the last few days."
"I know how you feel," Daisy said. "My brother passed away not long ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am. I hate to ask this, but could I use your phone?"
"Sure, just let me get it." Drawing her robe around her, Daisy went into the living room to retrieve her phone. When she returned, the young man was sprawled facedown on the porch.
Kneeling beside him, Daisy rolled him onto his back, then shook his shoulder lightly. "Don't move," she said. "I'm gonna call 911."
"No, that won't be necessary. I'll be fine if I could just have a glass of water."
Daisy bit down on her lower lip. She was alone in the house. He was a stranger. But he was just a skinny kid, not more than sixteen or seventeen. She couldn't just leave him lying out here on the porch. Besides, she had a Crocodile Dundee-sized knife in her kit. And with that in mind, she helped him to his feet.
"Why don't you come in for a minute, until you feel better," she suggested.
"Are you sure it won't be too much trouble?"
"Of course not." Slipping her arm around his waist, Daisy helped him inside.
She knew she had made a terrible mistake the minute they crossed the threshold, when the seemingly innocuous young man flung her across the floor. She cried out as the back of her head slammed against the wall.
She stared up at him, mute, her eyes widening with horror when his lips drew back, revealing his fangs. Never show fear. How often had her father drummed that warning into her head? Unfortunately, her courage seemed to have deserted her and all she could think was that she was going to die, and she would never see Erik again.
She cried out when the vampire grabbed her by the throat and jerked her to her feet. "Why?" she asked, gasping for breath. "At least...tell me why."
"You were there when Costain took her life. Now I'm going to take yours."
Daisy looked into his eyes and knew it was pointless to ask for mercy. She tried to speak, tried to rescind her invitation, but fear trapped the words in her throat. Knowing it was useless, she struggled to free herself, but her hands and feet were puny weapons against the strength of a vampire.
She was going to die. She gasped for breath as his hand tightened around her throat, and then he was bending over her, brushing her hair away from her neck.
A choked cry of pain rose in her throat as he buried his fangs in her neck. Erik's bite had been sensual, pleasurable. This bite brought only pain and fear. Darkness ate away at the edges of her vision. The frantic beat of her heart echoed loudly in her ears and then, gradually, slowed. The strength went out of her limbs.
Whispering Erik's name, she fell into blackness.
Rhys leaned one elbow on the bar as he regarded the man beside him. And then he shook his head. "You look like one of the walking dead," he muttered.
"Very funny," Erik replied sourly.
"Come on, snap out of it. The world is filled with young, beautiful women, and they're all ours for the taking."
"They aren't her."
Rhys muttered a pithy oath. "They're all the same in the dark."