He opened his senses as his thoughts drifted to the other woman in his life. He could hear Savanah moving about in the kitchen upstairs, no doubt preparing something to eat. The thought of food aroused his own hunger. He needed to feed again. It was the only way to ease the pain that burned through him with every breath.
Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The movement, slight as it was, made his wounds sing. Hands clenched, he took several slow, deep breaths. Damn, why hadn’t he said yes when Mara offered him her blood? Had he done so, he wouldn’t be hurting so badly now. One thing was for certain, if she made him the same offer again, he wouldn’t refuse.
He grunted softly. Little good that did him now.
Rising, he went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the bathtub. He ran his hands over his face, wincing as his fingers brushed singed flesh. For the first time, he was grateful that he couldn’t see his reflection. Imagining how he must look, he found it rather surprising that Savanah hadn’t run screaming from the sight.
He undressed while the tub filled, his hands exploring the burned flesh on his arms, neck, and back. Only his legs had escaped the sun’s wrath.
With a sigh, he stepped into the tub, sank into the blessedly cool water, and closed his eyes.
Savanah glanced at the clock. It was after four. Rane was usually up by now. Of course, being badly hurt, he probably needed more rest than usual. And more blood, she thought with a shudder. She wondered what he would say when she told him she had decided to go home. Would he agree, try to convince her to stay here, or simply refuse to let her go?
She fixed a glass of iced tea, then went down to the rec room, kicked off her shoes, and turned on the satellite screen. Picking up the remote, she flipped through the channels until she found a movie she hadn’t seen, then settled back on the sofa. Try as she might, she couldn’t concentrate on the screen. Instead, she kept glancing over her shoulder, expecting Rane to appear at any minute. Where was he? She drummed her fingertips on the arm of the sofa. Had he been injured worse than she thought? Maybe he lacked the strength to rise.
She sipped her tea, her anxiety growing with every passing moment. Where the heck was he? A sudden coldness clenched her insides. What if he had died in the night? No! She shook her head. That was impossible.
But what if he had?
She was thinking about going down to the subbasement to see if she could get into Mara’s private quarters when Rane walked into the room. She couldn’t help staring at him.
“I’d tell you it looks worse than it feels,” he said dryly, “but it would be a lie.”
“Are you all right, otherwise?”
He shrugged. Because he hadn’t trusted himself to be with Savanah until after he’d fed, he had gone hunting earlier, something made possible by the heavy cloud cover that obscured the sun. He had preyed upon four young men he had found camped a few miles farther up the mountain. They had all been strong and healthy, football players by the look of them, and he had fed, and fed well.
Still feeling the need to keep his distance from Savanah, he sat in the chair across from the sofa. He had never been vain about his looks; he knew women found him attractive, but he felt strangely embarrassed by his monstrous appearance. That in itself was odd, he thought, since he was a monster on the inside no matter what his outward appearance might be.
“What did you do with the Werewolf?” Savanah asked.
“I dumped his body in a deep ravine at the top of the mountain.”
“Did you know him?”
“No. Why?”
“I just wondered. I’ve never killed anyone before, you know.” She shrugged. “I didn’t even know his name.”
“His legal name was Samuel Jefferson, according to his driver’s license. Does that make you feel any better about it?”
“Of course not!” she retorted. “I killed a man. Taking a life may be old hat to you, but it’s a new experience for me.”
Rane dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gruff. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean it. We’ve both been under a lot of pressure in the last few weeks.”
“That’s no excuse. I know how difficult this must be for you.”
“Do you?”
“Maybe not. I was no longer mortal when I made my first kill. It came easily to me,” he said quietly. “Perhaps too easily.”
“I’m not sorry for what I did,” she said, a note of defiance creeping into her voice. “He meant to kill us, but…”
“But it’s an awesome and troubling responsibility, the taking of a life.”
“Yes. But given the same circumstances, I’d do it again.”
Rane smiled in spite of himself. She had the face of an angel and the courage of a mama bear defending her young.
“I’ve decided to go home,” Savanah said.
“Indeed?”
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Yes, tomorrow night. I’ll be needing my mother’s books, so I can pack them.”
“I see. And if I think you and the books should stay here?”
“I’m going home, Rane. My whereabouts are no longer a secret.”
“I haven’t done a very good job of protecting you, have I?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He regarded her a moment, the tension in the air building until it hummed like a hot wire between them. And then he blew out a sigh. “I’ll take you home, if that’s what you want.”
“Will you stay with me for a while?”
“Stay, as in stay in the city, or…?”
“Stay with me, at my house, only if you want to, of course.”
“What do you think?”
A flush rose in her cheeks. “I’m new to all this…Vampire hunting,” she clarified before he could say anything. “I could use your help.”
“Are you sure you want to team up with me?”
“I think we’ve done all right together so far. That Werewolf would have killed me if it wasn’t for you.”
He shrugged, reluctant to admit it even though he knew it was true. “He was after the books, wasn’t he?”
Savanah nodded. Maybe Rane was right. Maybe she should just burn the damn things. She stared into the distance, remembering the horror of the afternoon, reliving her fear, not only for her own life, but for Rane’s as well.