“Zack, remember?”
She frowned at him.
Zack grinned inwardly. He knew she was trying to figure out why she felt faint and disoriented and why she didn’t remember inviting him to sit with her. Since he had erased his memory from her mind, it was unlikely that she would ever recall being in an alley with a vampire. And even if the memory surfaced, no one would believe her.
“You should go home, Karen,” he said.
“Yes. Yes, I should.” She stared at him, her brow furrowed, and then she left the nightclub, her steps a little wobbly, due, no doubt, to the amount of blood she had lost.
Well, it had been for a good cause, Zack mused as he left the bar and drove back to the casino. Tomorrow night would find him on his way to Romania.
Zack rose with the setting sun. Time was of the essence. Being able to close his eyes and transport himself from one location to another was one of his favorite vampire perks. After he was first turned, it had taken a little getting used to, and even knowing he was nearly indestructible, it had scared the hell out of him the first few times he had tried it. And there was always the fear, at least in the beginning, that he might misjudge where he wanted to go and wind up inside a mountain or something. Thankfully, that had never happened.
At first, he had gone only short distances—from one city to another, then one state to another, then across the country. He had been a vampire for a year or so before he got the nerve to go hopping from country to country, and then he’d wondered why he had waited so long.
Of course, he had to time things just right. It wouldn’t do to arrive at his destination when the sun was up. A quick check on the computer and he figured if he left in the next few minutes, he would arrive in Romania with just enough time to find a suitable place to hole up until sundown.
He took a quick shower, dressed, and left his lair. Transporting himself to the woods near Kaitlyn’s cabin, he concentrated on the link between them, felt a growing surge of supernatural power stir the leaves on the trees as he opened his senses. The bond between them was like invisible strands binding them together, a sort of preternatural GPS that only he could see. All he had to do was follow it.
The sense of moving swiftly through time and space had once filled him with trepidation; now, it was a thrill like no other. A rush of cold wind, a sense of weightlessness, of being part of the very air that surrounded him.
When he came to himself again, he was standing outside a massive gray stone edifice located atop a high mountain. The structure was magnificent, with tall, narrow, leaded windows on the ground floor. Three wide stone steps led to a pair of iron-strapped doors that looked strong enough to withstand an army.
“The Fortress,” he mused. It could be nothing else.
He went to ground in the midst of a stand of timber located behind the Fortress. Mortals would undoubtedly consider spending the day buried in the ground utterly morbid. But, for his kind, it was quite refreshing. He had heard of old vampires who went to ground for a year or two when they grew weary of their long existence. Others who were bored with a particular century went to ground until it was over.
Zack had never done that, but he could see how awaking in a new century might add a certain zest to one’s existence. With the passage of a hundred years, there would be new inventions to explore, new dynasties, new fashions, perhaps a new language, new countries, new methods of communication and transportation.
He closed his eyes as he sensed the coming sunrise. When he was first made, the onset of the sleep of his kind had been scary as hell. It was like falling into a deep black pit, with no assurance that he would ever wake again. In the beginning, he had feared being discovered by a vampire hunter and destroyed while he slept, but that had proven to be a needless worry. Some innate vampire sense warned him when his life was in danger; if necessary, he awakened long enough to defend himself. He called it vampire adrenaline, that burst of energy that roused him from sleep.
He reached out, his senses searching for Kaitlyn, as the dark sleep overshadowed him, dragging him down into oblivion.
Chapter 20
Kaitlyn bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding, Zack’s name on her lips. Sitting there, the sheet clutched to her br**sts, she glanced quickly around the room. Seeing nothing, she switched on the light. Still nothing.
“Zack?” Certain he was near, she slipped out of bed, opened the door, and peered into the hallway. All was quiet. The corridor was dark and deserted.
Not surprising at this time of the morning, she thought. The vampires sought their lairs before sunrise; most of the mortals who lived here kept the same hours as their mates.
Frowning, she pulled on her robe and padded barefoot down the corridor, pausing to glance into every room she passed, but there was no sign of Zack. Or anyone else.
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was nearby and so she kept searching. Moving quietly down the stairs, she peered into the kitchen, the dining hall, and the laundry room. Of course, he wouldn’t be here.
The next floor was where the sheep had been kept. The dormitories and one of the dayrooms had been turned into apartments for the men and women who now willingly made their home in the Fortress. The second dayroom had been turned into a nursery/playroom for their children. Zack certainly wouldn’t be there.
The vampire lairs were on the next level down. He definitely wouldn’t be there.
Was it possible he was in the dungeon? She tried to link to the blood bond he said they shared. He had told her he would always be able to find her. Why couldn’t she find him?
Telling herself there was nothing to be afraid of, she went down two flights of stairs, then paused at the narrow door that led to the dungeon. Her grandfather, Rodin, had not approved of her father marrying Elena. In his anger, he had imprisoned her father down here. It was a snippet of family history she wasn’t supposed to know, but she had heard bits and pieces of the story while growing up, mostly from the sheep.
She opened the door, surprised that it didn’t creak loudly, the way wooden doors always did in scary movies when the foolish young woman went exploring on her own, even though she knew there was a monster on the loose.
Kaitlyn grinned as she stepped into the dungeon. In this case, she was the monster.
Thanks to her preternatural vision, she needed neither candle nor lamp to find her way in the thick darkness. Iron-barred cells lined both sides of the room. Someone had obviously mopped the floors and cleaned the cells, but the air remained rank with the smell of old sweat, urine, and fear. The ceiling was low, the stark surroundings oppressive.