Home > The Vampire's Kiss(2)

The Vampire's Kiss(2)
Author: Cynthia Eden

He shook his head and stepped forward into a thin beam of light. “You are not welcome here,” he repeated.

Savannah gathered her courage and stared at the man before her. “Please let me come inside. It's a matter of life or death.»

A single black brow lifted. His gaze slowly traveled from the top of her head to the bottom of her sodden shoes. “You are a very stubborn woman, Ms.—»

«Daniels,” She supplied in a rush. “My name is Savannah Daniels.»

He nodded, as if he had already known her name. “You may come inside, but only for a moment.” He stepped back, opening the entranceway to his home.

She exhaled heavily. Sudden relief made her tired body tremble. He was letting her inside! Now, if only she could convince him to help her.

Her body brushed against his as she slipped into the house. Her shoulder casually touched his chest. For a moment, his black eyes flared red.

She hurriedly moved away and into the foyer. William lifted his arm and indicated an open door to the right. She nodded and stepped into the room.

A warm fire crackled in the fireplace. She immediately walked to it and lifted her hands, eager to feel the warmth. She was so cold. Had been cold, for so long. Ever since that night…

William continued to watch her, his stare hard and unflinching.

Savannah wondered what he saw when he looked at her. She glanced nervously down at herself. She knew she looked horrible. Her clothes and hair were a complete mess.

But even on a good day, she'd never considered herself to be a great beauty. Her hair was too curly, the color too red. True, it was thick and cut to fall lightly against her shoulders, but she'd always hated the bright color.

Her body was small and slender. In her heels, she stood at five foot five. She'd lost a lot of weight in the last year, so now she looked particularly delicate. Almost frail.

She exhaled heavily.

There was nothing she could do about her appearance. Besides, that didn't matter.

Her hands clenched into small fists, and she turned resolutely from the fire.

«I need your help.” The words echoed in the great room.

William lounged in a large, cushioned chair. “My help? What is it exactly that you need me to do, Ms. Daniels?»

She swallowed and moved to take the chair opposite him. She'd known this wasn't going to be easy. She cleared her throat and looked deeply into the darkness of his eyes. “I need you to kill someone,” she said simply, clearly.

He blinked. Once. Twice. “Excuse me?»

Savannah licked her lips. His eyes followed the nervous movement. “I need you to kill someone,” she repeated, her gaze locked with his.

William laughed. He threw back his dark head and roared. His shoulders shook with mirth. Still smiling, he turned in his chair to study the young woman before him.

In truth, she was all flaming hair and eyes. She rather reminded him of a fairy. A small, lost little fairy.

It was a pity that she'd wandered into his realm.

Her face was a delicate oval. Her skin was incredibly translucent. Her nose was small, and her lips were temptingly full. Yet, it was her eyes that caught and held his attention. They were the greenest eyes that he had ever seen. Dark, deep, emerald eyes. Her rioting red curls contrasted richly with her eyes, giving her a strangely fey quality.

His gaze traveled down her body. Her br**sts were small, gentle mounds that thrust proudly against her gray sweatshirt. Her ni**les were pebbled slightly from the cold. Her hips were small, almost boyish, and her slender legs were encased in a pair of faded blue jeans.

The faint scent of blood clung to her body. The scent called softly to him, tempted him.

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. One of his hands lifted to rub against the hard line of his jaw. What sort of game was the little fairy playing? Surely she did not think to tangle with one such as he…

«What makes you think I would kill someone?” he drawled, his voice soft. He watched her carefully, noting the slight tremor in her hands.

Her green eyes narrowed. “I know about you,” she whispered, her fingers curling into the chair's armrest.

His body stilled. “What is it that you think you know?” The amusement of moments before was gone. Ice coated his words.

«I know your secret, Mr. Dark.” Her voice was a hushed thread of sound.

William felt a sudden tension stretch through his body. He studied the fairy very carefully. He considered reaching into the depths of her mind, but he discarded the notion almost immediately. He wanted to see what truths she would reveal on her own. Or what lies.

«I know who you are.” She paused, and then said softly, “Or rather, I know what you are.” Her full lips curled tentatively. “You might say that I'm something of an expert on you.»

His own lips curved just slightly, though he knew that no trace of warmth filled his smile. “An expert? On me?” Rage filled him, but with an effort, he managed to keep his voice controlled as he asked, “Why am I so important to you? I assure you, my life is not that exciting.»

She leaned forward. “On the contrary, your life is fascinating.»

A sudden crash of thunder echoed in the distance.

«I am a man, no more, no less. My life is like any other.»

She vehemently shook her head. “You are much more than a man, Mr. Dark, and we both know that.” She took a deep breath. “I know what you are,” she whispered. “I know.»

His jaw clenched. “You know nothing.” He stood abruptly. “It's time that you left.»

She jumped from her chair and took a step toward him. “I'm not leaving. I need your help!»

He shook his head once. “I cannot help you, lady. I can't help anyone.»

«I need you.” Dark intensity filled her words and her gaze.

William frowned. He rose and walked slowly toward her. His fingers lifted and curled around her delicate chin. He stared down at her, a furrow between his brows. “You don't even know me.»

«I know everything about you.»

His head cocked to the side. “And what you know—it makes you think that I would kill someone?»

She swallowed. “Yes.»

«You think I'm a killer?” he asked, just to be certain.

«Yes.” Savannah's body tensed as she waited for his reaction.

He smiled. His fingers stroked the delicate line of her jaw. “I think you're confused. Very, very confused. I'm not a killer. I'm just a man. A man who wants to be left alone.” He released her and walked toward the crackling fire.

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