He nodded. He might be a lot of things, but he had never forced a woman into his bed, or taken advantage of a virgin, although Kaitlyn tempted him sorely. He was about to refill their glasses when his cell phone rang.
Murmuring, “Excuse me,” he put the phone to his ear. “What is it?” He listened a moment, then slipped the phone back into his pocket. “I need to take care of something in the casino. I’ll be back shortly.”
“All right.” Lifting her glass, she watched him walk swiftly toward a door marked STAIRWAY.
She sat there a moment, thinking about Zack. He wanted her; there was no doubt about that. And she wanted him. There was no doubt about that, either. She glanced at her watch, drummed her fingertips on the table as she wondered what kind of emergency—if that’s what it was—had called him away. Too curious to wait any longer, she took the elevator down to the main floor.
The first thing she noticed was the silence. Standing in the doorway, she glanced around, searching for Zack. She gasped when she saw him. He was standing in front of one of the poker tables. On the other side of the table, a man wearing a Hell’s Angel leather jacket stood holding the edge of a knife to the dealer’s throat. The dealer’s face was paper-white, a vivid contrast to the angry red flush on the face of the Hell’s Angel wielding the blade.
“He cheated!” the man declared, his voice carrying throughout the casino. “He’s dealing from the bottom of the deck!”
“Put the knife down,” Zack said. “And we’ll talk about it.”
The man shook his head. “I want my money back! And I want this cheat fired!”
Zack looked at the dealer. “Were you cheating, Henry?”
Kaitlyn frowned as a ripple of power raised the hair along her arms. Was that coming from Zack? It felt much like the preternatural power her father possessed.
“No, sir,” Henry said, his voice laced with fear. “He’s just a sore loser.”
“He’s lying!” the man insisted.
Kaitlyn couldn’t see Zack’s face. He stood there, unmoving, as that same ripple of power washed over her.
When he spoke again, his words were slow and distinct, and there was a peculiar edge to his voice. “I want you to put the knife down, Farris, and follow me outside.”
Kaitlyn frowned, wondering how Zack knew the troublemaker’s name. Was he a regular at the casino?
Farris glared at Zack for stretched seconds, then he dropped the knife on the table and followed Zack out of the casino.
Kaitlyn waited until Zack and Farris were outside, then hurried after them. She paused just beyond the entrance, her gaze darting left and right, but there was no sign of either man.
How had they disappeared so quickly? Puzzled, she left the casino. She had a lot to think about and she couldn’t do it here.
It took only moments to navigate the path home. Kicking off her shoes, she went into the kitchen and fixed a cup of hot chocolate, then curled up on the sofa, the cup cradled in her hands as her mind replayed the scene at the poker table. She hadn’t imagined the power that rippled through the air when Zack spoke. She had felt it too often in the past to mistake it for anything but what it was—the same kind of preternatural power that her father and others of their kind were able to command. Was it possible that Zack Ravenscroft was one of them? She had never seen him eat, but that didn’t prove anything. At dinner the other night, he had said he’d already eaten. She’d had no reason to disbelieve him then, and none tonight. He drank wine, but so did millions of other people. He possessed a strong aura of danger, but, again, that didn’t prove anything. But that rush of preternatural power—no mortal possessed that kind of supernatural energy.
What if Zack really was a vampire?
Kaitlyn shook her head. If that was true, it changed everything.
Chapter 7
Standing in the shadows, the watcher followed Kaitlyn home. His first task was to learn all he could about her. Thus far, he hadn’t accomplished much of his goal. All he knew was that she was able to abide the sun, a fact he had learned while he lurked outside her house at sunset and saw her walking up the path, a grocery sack tucked under one arm. It was obvious she had left the house earlier in the day. He presumed she was able to walk by day because of her tainted blood. The second thing he had learned was that she could still eat mortal food, something that should no longer have been possible for her.
She was also very beautiful, a dark-haired angel with pale golden skin and sky-blue eyes.
He thrust the thought away. Lovely or ugly, it mattered not. He had a job to do, and he would do it. To fail was to incur his mother’s wrath, and that was worse than death itself.
Chapter 8
As soon as Zack returned to the casino, he knew that Kaitlyn had gone. Frowning, he went to the bar and ordered a drink from his special blend. Why had she left without a word?
Standing with his back to the bar, he perused the room. The patrons had returned to their games of chance as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He grinned inwardly. Mortals had ridiculously short memories.
With a sigh, he sipped his drink, a tasty concoction of chardonnay and type O, as his thoughts returned to Kaitlyn. Had she been bothered by the earlier disturbance? He considered that possibility a moment, then shook his head. She wasn’t the type to be spooked by anything so trivial. Had she grown tired of waiting for his return? He shook his head again. He hadn’t been gone that long. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes to wipe his compulsion from the man’s mind and send him on his way with no memory of what had occurred. So, what had prompted her to leave without a word of farewell or explanation?
He drained his glass and left it on the bar; then, as was his wont at least once a night, he strolled through the casino. All of his employees were mortal save for the fledgling, Scherry, who was the night bartender, and two of the dealers.
Zack had sired Scherry six months ago at her request. She had been diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. She hadn’t wanted to face a lingering death and she had told him, candidly, that she didn’t have the nerve to take her own life. He had never turned anyone before, but he liked Scherry. After warning her that there were no guarantees, he had taken her up to his lair late one night and brought her across. It had been an interesting experience. Other than a desperate effort to save the life of someone he loved, he had never drained anyone to the point of death before. It had been an incredible high. He still wasn’t sure where he had found the willpower to stop before it was too late. But he had. And then he had given her his blood. And watched in amazement as the color returned to her cheeks, and the spark of life returned to her eyes.