Night's Pleasure by Amanda Ashley Page B

contains a list of Vampires, both the quick and the dead.”
    She hadn’t known that, and she didn’t like it. She had managed to stay under the radar for the last fifteen years and she liked it that way.
    â€œThere aren’t as many hunters today as there were twenty years ago,” he went on, his expression thoughtful. “With peace between the Vampires and the Werewolves, there hasn’t been any need for them. The schools have shut down. The old hunters are dying off. If my information is correct, there are only a hundred or so left in the world. When they’re gone, most of their knowledge will die with them.”
    â€œWhat of Mara? She won’t like it when she hears what you’re doing. It was her idea to call off the war.”
    â€œAh, yes, Mara. We’ve nothing to fear from her. She’s gone to Egypt, most likely for a good long time.”
    â€œAnd when all the hunters are gone, what then?”
    â€œWe’ll kill a few important politicians, a few famous celebrities, an innocent or two. It will arouse the populace against the Vampires, and there will be hunts to rival those of the last century.” He smiled, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “It will be glorious!”
    She nodded, even though none of it made a lick of sense to her. Sometimes she thought Clive was a little crazy, but then, weren’t they all?
    Moving closer, she ran her hands through his hair. It was thick and brown and curled over her fingers. He was a handsome man, his body tall and compact, his eyes brown with a hint of yellow. She loved being with him, loved it when they both changed into wolves and hunted the night.
    His arm snaked around her waist, his eyes burning with lust when he drew her body against his. She didn’t care what happened to the Vampires or the Werewolves or the humans or anyone else, as long as he wanted her.

Chapter Eleven
    Savanah woke abruptly, her initial alarm at waking in a strange bed with a man quickly fading when she realized it was only Rane, and that he was asleep, one long leg draped over both of hers.
    She stared at him, shaken anew by the events of the past night.
    Someone had killed her father.
    In the middle of the night, she had begged Rane to make love to her.
    What had she been thinking? Of course, the real problem was that she hadn’t been thinking at all. She had been feeling lost and alone. Caught up in the reality of death, she had reached out to Rane and surrendered her virtue in the most life-affirming act known to mankind. And it had been wonderful, she thought with a guilty sigh. Wonderful, and all wrong.
    Sitting up, with the sheet tucked under her arms, she cradled her head in her hands. Lord, what if she was pregnant? Would her child be a shape-shifter? She groaned softly. What had she been thinking, to indulge in unprotected sex with a man she hardly knew? And yet, right or wrong, she had found comfort in Rane’s arms.
    On some deep, primal level, she had been aware of his presence beside her even while she slept, had taken comfort in having another human being nearby.
    Except that he wasn’t human, at least not entirely.
    Holding the sheet over her breasts with one hand, she studied the man lying beside her, his face barely visible in the faint glow of the night-light he had thoughtfully left burning. He was truly the most amazing-looking man she had ever seen, his features strong and remarkably handsome. Lying there, with one arm folded behind his head, he looked like some pagan warrior prince awaiting the arrival of his favorite courtesan.
    The thought brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. Last night, she had played the courtesan. Shame made her cheeks burn hotter. What kind of woman was she, to make love to a man she hardly knew, on the same night her father had been killed and her house had been ransacked? How could she be in bed with a man she hardly knew?
    A man who was awake and watching her through dark,