again.
Drake stroked Elena’s hair, her cheek, the curve of her neck. He had violated vampire law twice now, first in telling her who and what he was, and then by not wiping the knowledge from her mind. He refused to consider taking her life. The rules of the Coven didn’t seem important when she was near. The beat of her heart was music to his ears, the scent of her skin more fragrant than the primroses that grew in the garden, the heat of her body a welcome warmth against his own cool flesh.
After five hundred years as a vampire, there was little left in the mortal world that surprised him, but sitting there, with Elena sleeping beside him, he discovered that he cared more deeply than he had imagined for the woman who was his wife in name only. Even more astonishing was the realization that he wanted her love more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.
With a shake of his head, he stared into the fire, certain that he had a better chance of gaining heaven than winning the fair Elena’s love.
Eyes closed, Elena turned over on her stomach and tried to go back to sleep. After last night, she was reluctant to face a new day, although a glance at her watch told her that the day was already half gone. Plagued by scary dreams, she had awakened several times during the night. Each time, Drake had been there beside her, his voice lulling her back to sleep. Odd, that finding him in her bed hadn’t frightened her, considering all she had learned.
With a sigh of exasperation, she flopped over onto her back. A quick glance showed that she was alone in bed. Well, not exactly alone. Smoke lay on Drake’s pillow, regarding her through half-closed eyes.
Elena turned onto her side, her chin pillowed on her hand. “So, cat, whatever am I to do? How can I stay here with him, knowing what he is? How can I ever trust him?”
The cat blinked at her, then yawned, revealing very white, very sharp teeth.
Elena stared at the cat, and the memory of how Drake’s fangs had looked when he’d bent over one of the robbers rose in her mind. His teeth, too, had been very sharp and very white.
She shook the image away. All felines—and vampires, she supposed—came equipped with very sharp, very white teeth.
After slipping out of bed, she washed her face and hands, brushed her hair and her teeth, then pulled on her khaki shorts and a T-shirt and went downstairs. She was too upset to eat. Instead, she paced the great hall and then, on impulse, she went to the front door, which still refused to open.
She uttered every swear word she knew, but it didn’t make her feel any better, and the darn thing still didn’t open.
Turning away, she practically tripped over the cat. “Must you always be underfoot?” she muttered irritably.
“Meow.”
Sidestepping around the cat, Elena made her way to the kitchen’s back door. Maybe it would open today. Working in the garden might help to calm her nerves, help her to think of what to do next.
She wasn’t surprised when the door still refused to open.
“This is so unfair!” She shook the handle with both hands, and then, her frustration rising, she kicked the door. “I feel like I’m suffocating in here!”
“Meow.”
“Oh, go away.”
But the cat didn’t go away. Slipping between her legs, the big gray tom lifted one paw and gave the door a push.
And it swung open.
With another meow, the cat darted outside.
Elena stared after the remarkable creature for several minutes. Truly, it was a most unusual cat. Drake admitted to being a vampire. Was he a warlock, as well? Everyone knew witches often kept cats as familiars. But he had said he didn’t own a cat. She frowned. Maybe it was just semantics. Or maybe, she thought with a rueful grin, the cat owned Drake.
With a shake of her head, Elena stepped over the threshold. She didn’t care if the cat possessed some kind of feline mojo or not. All that mattered was that she was outside.
She took a deep breath of the clean,
Drake stroked Elena’s hair, her cheek, the curve of her neck. He had violated vampire law twice now, first in telling her who and what he was, and then by not wiping the knowledge from her mind. He refused to consider taking her life. The rules of the Coven didn’t seem important when she was near. The beat of her heart was music to his ears, the scent of her skin more fragrant than the primroses that grew in the garden, the heat of her body a welcome warmth against his own cool flesh.
After five hundred years as a vampire, there was little left in the mortal world that surprised him, but sitting there, with Elena sleeping beside him, he discovered that he cared more deeply than he had imagined for the woman who was his wife in name only. Even more astonishing was the realization that he wanted her love more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.
With a shake of his head, he stared into the fire, certain that he had a better chance of gaining heaven than winning the fair Elena’s love.
Eyes closed, Elena turned over on her stomach and tried to go back to sleep. After last night, she was reluctant to face a new day, although a glance at her watch told her that the day was already half gone. Plagued by scary dreams, she had awakened several times during the night. Each time, Drake had been there beside her, his voice lulling her back to sleep. Odd, that finding him in her bed hadn’t frightened her, considering all she had learned.
With a sigh of exasperation, she flopped over onto her back. A quick glance showed that she was alone in bed. Well, not exactly alone. Smoke lay on Drake’s pillow, regarding her through half-closed eyes.
Elena turned onto her side, her chin pillowed on her hand. “So, cat, whatever am I to do? How can I stay here with him, knowing what he is? How can I ever trust him?”
The cat blinked at her, then yawned, revealing very white, very sharp teeth.
Elena stared at the cat, and the memory of how Drake’s fangs had looked when he’d bent over one of the robbers rose in her mind. His teeth, too, had been very sharp and very white.
She shook the image away. All felines—and vampires, she supposed—came equipped with very sharp, very white teeth.
After slipping out of bed, she washed her face and hands, brushed her hair and her teeth, then pulled on her khaki shorts and a T-shirt and went downstairs. She was too upset to eat. Instead, she paced the great hall and then, on impulse, she went to the front door, which still refused to open.
She uttered every swear word she knew, but it didn’t make her feel any better, and the darn thing still didn’t open.
Turning away, she practically tripped over the cat. “Must you always be underfoot?” she muttered irritably.
“Meow.”
Sidestepping around the cat, Elena made her way to the kitchen’s back door. Maybe it would open today. Working in the garden might help to calm her nerves, help her to think of what to do next.
She wasn’t surprised when the door still refused to open.
“This is so unfair!” She shook the handle with both hands, and then, her frustration rising, she kicked the door. “I feel like I’m suffocating in here!”
“Meow.”
“Oh, go away.”
But the cat didn’t go away. Slipping between her legs, the big gray tom lifted one paw and gave the door a push.
And it swung open.
With another meow, the cat darted outside.
Elena stared after the remarkable creature for several minutes. Truly, it was a most unusual cat. Drake admitted to being a vampire. Was he a warlock, as well? Everyone knew witches often kept cats as familiars. But he had said he didn’t own a cat. She frowned. Maybe it was just semantics. Or maybe, she thought with a rueful grin, the cat owned Drake.
With a shake of her head, Elena stepped over the threshold. She didn’t care if the cat possessed some kind of feline mojo or not. All that mattered was that she was outside.
She took a deep breath of the clean,
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