Cara slept late Sunday morning, but that was only to be expected, she thought, after the horrors of the night before.
Rising, she pulled on a fluffy pink robe, stepped into a pair of furry pink slippers, and opened the French doors that led to the balcony, only then realizing that it was raining. She stood there for a few minutes, listening to the rain and the thunder, watching as lightning streaked across the lowering sky. She had
always loved storms and loved the rain, as long as she didn't have to drive in it.
After closing the doors, she left her bedroom, glad that she didn't have to go to work. In the hallway, she paused outside her parents' room. Remembering her mother's words the night before, she wondered where her father had gone to rest where he wouldn't be disturbed. Was it somewhere in the house? Had her mother gone to join him there?
She reached for the door, her hand closing around the knob; then, with a shake of her head, she went downstairs. She had never violated her parents' privacy; she wouldn't start now.
She found Di Giorgio in the kitchen, the Sunday paper spread out on the table. He looked up when Cara entered the room.
"Morning, Miss DeLongpre."
"Good morning, Frank. Have you been awake all night?"
"I caught a few winks on the sofa."
"Oh, I was just going to make some breakfast. Would you like..." Her voice trailed off when she happened to glance at the morning headline.
FIRE DESTROYS ABANDONED BUILDING
BODY OF UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN FOUND INSIDE
FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED
Leaning over Frank's shoulder, she quickly read the story, which stated that the fire department suspected arson and the police department suspected murder. At present, the police had no leads and no suspects.
Cara stared at Frank, her mother's words echoing in her mind: Someone should burn that horrible place down, Brenna had said. And Frank had replied, Maybe someone will.
"You did it, didn't you?" Cara said. "You burned down the lab."
Di Giorgio looked up at her, his face impassive. "Who, me?"
"Yes, you."
Di Giorgio tapped on the newspaper. "No leads," he said with a sly grin. "No suspects."
Cara shook her head. She should be appalled by what he had done but all she felt was relief that she would never see that lab again, coupled with a faint sense of sadness for Anton. His mother had died a horrible death, her body burned beyond recognition in the fire. Of course, Cara thought, there was no one to blame for Serafina's death except Serafina. For a moment, the horror of all that had happened flashed through her mind: the mind-numbing fear of being strapped to a metal table, her concern for her father, the sharp prick of the needle as Serafina drew her blood, the icy terror that had chilled her to the marrow of her bones when Anthony Loken's body rose from the coffin...
She shook off the memories. What was done was done, and she was glad the building was gone. She hoped the city would level whatever was left of it.
"So, Frank, would you like something to eat?"
"Sure."
"French toast and bacon okay?"
"Anything you want to fix is fine with me." He reached for the coffee cup on the table. "You got any plans for today?"
"Not really." Opening the refrigerator, Cara took out a carton of eggs and the bacon and placed them on the counter, then she pulled a frying pan from the cupboard. "Although I might go out later and see if Vince is home."
"I'll be driving you anywhere you want to go today."
Out of habit, she started to insist she didn't need a babysitter, but the words died unspoken. After last night, she was lucky to have Frank around. In fact, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to go anywhere alone again.
After breakfast, she went upstairs to shower and dress, and then Di Giorgio drove her over to Vince's garage, but the place was locked up tight.
Disappointed, she asked Frank to take her back to her parents' house. After walking her to the door and seeing her safely inside, he told her he was going to his place for a quick shower and a change of clothes.
"Don't be running off without me," he warned. "Your folks will have my hide if anything happens to you."
"Don't worry," Cara said, "I'm not going anywhere."
Anton woke with a start. Disoriented for a moment, he glanced at his surroundings, relieved to find that he was at home. Apparently, he had fallen asleep on the sofa.
Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair. He'd had the most horrible nightmare. He shuddered at the memory. His father had been terrorizing the city and his mother's burned body had been at his father's side. It had been like every horrible zombie movie he had ever seen. The two of them had had him backed into a corner, their skeletal hands reaching for his throat, when he woke up.
Rising, he went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Leaving the bathroom, he paused outside his mother's bedroom. She had never let him into her room, insisting she liked her privacy. Well, she wasn't there to stop him now. It took only a moment to force the lock.
Stepping inside, he hit the light switch, then glanced around, wondering what she'd had to hide. He saw nothing out of the ordinary: a double bed with a flowered comforter, a pair of nightstands, a lamp with a fancy shade, a six-drawer dresser littered with yellowed newspaper clippings. He wondered how many times she had read the story about his father's death.
Moving farther into the room, he went to her closet and opened the door. Her dresses took up one side; the other was filled with men's clothing-all new, with the price tags still in place.
Going into his mother's bathroom, he opened the medicine cabinet, where he found an assortment of men's toiletries.
Regret burned deep in his soul. His mother had been certain her incantation would work. And it would
have, he thought, his anger rising, except for DeLongpre's daughter. But for her, his father and mother might be here with him now.
Anton clenched his hands at his sides as he remembered how it had been, growing up without a father, listening to other guys talk about playing football with their dads and going camping and hunting and fishing. Their fathers had taught them how to drive and mow the yard and bait a hook. Their dads were there to cheer them on at little League games. Other boys had fathers they could talk to about things that a guy couldn't discuss with his mother.
Anton sighed. He had never had a father, and now his mother was gone, too, and it was all that tramp Cara DeLongpre's fault.
Going back into his mother's bedroom, he stood there a moment and then, not certain why, he went to his mother's dresser and opened the drawers one by one. The right side was filled with his mother's underthings. The left side held neatly folded T-shirts, shorts, and handkerchiefs intended for his father. It occurred to Anton that it all belonged to him now: the house, the cars, and the contents of the house. He picked up one of the T-shirts, then rummaged through the others, noting that there were a variety of colors-red, navy, green, and black. Under the last shirt he found a wand wrapped in a sheet of tissue paper.
It wasn't his mother's, and it wasn't his.
Curious, Anton picked it up and felt a faint vibration of latent power flow from the wood up his arm. He ran his fingertips over the satin finish, knowing it must have belonged to his father.
Taking the wand with him, he left his mother's room. Now that Cara's parents knew who he was, it was unlikely that he would ever be able to get close to her again.
Frowning thoughtfully, Anton ran his thumb over the wand. If he could find a way to control the creature, he might be able to avenge his mother's death before sending the creature back where it belonged.
Going down to the basement, he began rummaging through his mother's spell books, searching for an incantation that would enable him to control the creature inhabiting his father's body.
Vince woke late in the afternoon to find Cat sitting on his chest. "What do you want?" he muttered irritably. "Go on, get out of here."
Cat yawned, displaying sharp white teeth, then, tail sticking straight up in the air, he padded to the edge of the mattress where he sat down and began washing his face.
With a shake of his head, Vince sat up. He had kept watch outside the DeLongpre's house last night until the rising of the sun had forced him to seek shelter.
As always, his first waking thought was for Cara. Drawing on his preternatural power, he concentrated on her and after a moment, as if there was a tangible link between them, he knew she was at home and that she was thinking of him.
Vince smiled, pleased that he had apparently mastered a new vampire skill. If it wasn't just a fluke, it meant that he would always be able to find her. Thinking of what Brenna had said to him the night before, he decided maybe that wasn't such a good thing after all. If he was going to sever his ties with Cara, it would be better if the break was clean and permanent.
Damn! How was he going to tell her the truth after all this time? Would she hate him for waiting so long,
or simply for being what he was? And yet, why should she hate him? She loved her parents. He tried to tell himself there was no difference, but, of course, there was.
For a man who had resigned himself to spending the rest of his existence alone, he had fallen hard and fast. Damn and double damn. He never should have come back here. Nothing had changed. He couldn't just walk out on her without a word this time, not when he had promised her that he would see her today, even though that would probably be easier on both of them. He would see her tonight, he thought, and then he would never see her again. He shook his head, thinking he had promised himself the same thing only a short time ago.
He swore softly, remembering how Cara had looked with that baby in her arms, the light in her eyes when she had talked about having a big family. Leaving her again would be like ripping the heart from his chest, but he loved her too much to ask her to give up a normal life and the family she longed for and deserved.
Cara stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair. She had spent the day cleaning house, not that there was much to clean. Her parents were very tidy people. Still, dusting, vacuuming, mopping the floors, and washing her few dishes had kept her busy. Changing the sheets on her bed had made her think of Vince. It seemed like years since they had last made love. She had clutched her pillow to her chest, closed her eyes, and imagined that he was there with her, that his hands were caressing her, that his mouth was hungrily kissing her, that he was lowering her to the mattress, his body covering hers...
In the midst of her daydream, he had called to say hello. Hearing his voice had put a smile on her face, a glow in her heart, and a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. Thank goodness he couldn't read her mind! She smiled at the memory as she pulled the brush through her hair.
"My, my, what put that smile on your face?"
Cara turned to see her mother standing in the doorway. "Mom! You startled me."
"I'm sorry, dear. You're not planning to go out, are you?"
Cara nodded. "Vince called a little while ago. He's picking me up in twenty minutes."
"Do you think that's a good idea?"
"I'm just going over to Vince's for a few hours."
"Why don't the two of you stay here?"
Cara turned back to the mirror, a faint blush warming her cheeks. How could she tell her mother she wanted to be alone with Vince, that she wanted to curl up in his arms and stay there forever?
But no words were necessary. "I see," Brenna said quietly.
"Have you heard from Dad?" Cara asked, hoping to change the subject.
"No, but he's fine."
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Cara, please don't go out tonight."
"Mom, I'll be fine. Frank will..."
"Frank was there when Anton kidnapped you, remember?"
"Are you saying you think I'm in danger with Vince?"
"No, of course not. Do I need to remind you that that creature is still out there, and so is Anton? Both of them are dangerous."
Cara bit down on the inside corner of her lower lip. Her mother was right, of course. As much as she wanted to be alone with Vince, going out suddenly seemed foolish.
"I'll stay in my room if you and Vince want some time alone," Brenna offered, thinking it might be wise for her to be nearby. If Vince chose tonight to tell Cara the truth, her daughter might need consoling later.
Cara blew out a sigh. "All right, we'll stay here."
"You promise?"
"I promise, Mom."
Relieved, Brenna gave her daughter a hug. "Call me if you need me," she said, and left the room.
Cara stared after her mother. What an odd thing to say, she thought, and then forgot all about it when she heard the doorbell ring.
Hurrying down the stairs, Cara looked through the peephole before opening the door, felt her heart somersault inside her breast when she saw Vince standing on the porch.
"Hi," she said breathlessly.
"Hi yourself. Are you ready?"
"I'm afraid I can't go. I promised my mom I'd stay in tonight."
"Oh? Why's that?"
She looked at him as if he wasn't too bright. "Hello? That creature is still out there, you know, and Mom seems to think Anton might be a threat, too."
Vince followed Cara into the living room, admiring the sway of her hips and the way the lamplight shone in the wealth of her hair.
"She's probably right." He suspected the real reason Brenna wanted Cara to stay home was to keep the two of them from "going any further."
Cara sat on the sofa, then looked up at him expectantly.
He sat beside her, drawn by her warmth, the glow in her eyes, the seductive smile playing over her lips.
Did she have any idea how beautiful she was, or how hard it was for him to resist her? Even now, it was all he could do to keep from dragging her into his arms, brushing her hair away from her neck, and tasting the sweetness pulsing through her veins. She attracted him on so many levels-her beauty, her intelligence, her ready smile. With her, he felt whole, complete. Loved. He closed his eyes. How could he leave her? Even if he lived as long as Mara, he knew he would never again find anyone like Cara.
"Vince? Is something wrong?"
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her brow furrowed with concern.
"No, darlin'. How could anything be wrong when I'm here with you?"
She batted her eyelashes at him. "Why, sir," she said in a mock Southern accent, "you do say the sweetest things."
"And you, miss, are the most enchanting female I've ever known."
His voice moved over her like a velvet caress. "Vince..."
"Come here, darlin'."
She scooted closer, her eyelids fluttering down as his mouth found hers. In moments, she was lying on her side on the sofa, his body aligned with hers, their legs entwined. He kissed her as if he could never get enough, as if he needed her as much as the air he breathed, as if his very survival depended on her. It was a heady sensation.
His hands caressed her with tender urgency and she drew him closer, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against hers. Heat unfurled deep within her, spreading outward, warming her, arousing her until the rest of the world fell away and there was only this man, this moment.
She murmured his name, begging him to carry her upstairs, to make love to her all through the night.
"Ah, darlin'," he replied, his voice ragged, "I'd like nothing better."
"Then what's stopping you?"
"We're not alone," he reminded her.
"Then let's go to your place."
"I thought you promised your mother you'd stay here?"
"I did, but..." She pressed her face against his chest. "I want you so much."
It was tempting, but he wasn't about to put her life at risk. He wasn't afraid of Anton. He could destroy the weasel with a look, but he wasn't so sure about the creature inhabiting Anthony Loken's body. Vince blew out a sigh. Against mortals, he was nearly invincible. Against a creature raised from the dead... he didn't know, and he didn't intend to find out, not if it put Cara's life at risk.
She stared up at him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her breathing uneven. He could smell himself on her, smell her need, her desire.
"Please, Vince?"
Damn! How could he refuse her when he wanted her as much as she wanted him?
For a moment, he was tempted to pull her into his arms and carry her to his place, creature or no creature. After all, though she didn't know it, this was to be their last night together. Coward that he was, this time he was going to kiss her good-bye and walk out of her life forever. For a moment, his yearning warred with his good sense. In the end, his good sense won out. Leaving Cara again was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done, but she had no place in his world. He couldn't be certain that he would always be in control of his hunger or his lust, and if anything happened to her because of him, because of what he was...
Muttering an oath, Vince sat up, his body aching with need. Keeping a tight rein on his desire, he took Cara into his arms again. With his fingertips, he stroked the soft curve of her cheek, the wealth of her hair, the sweet temptation of her lower lip.
"You know that I love you, don't you?" he murmured.
"You do?"
"More than I've ever loved anyone, or anything."
"Oh, Vince... I love you, too!"
"I know." He rained kisses on her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead, the tempting swath of warm skin beneath her ear. The hunger rose within him, whispering for him to take her now, take it all, even as his desire urged him to bury himself in her sweetness one last time.
"Vince, let's go upstairs..."
Ah, love, he thought, if only I dared. But as much as he wanted her, needed her, he couldn't take her here, under her father's roof. He couldn't make love to her knowing he intended to leave her once again with no explanation, only this time it would be for good.
He kissed her and caressed her until her eyelids grew heavy.
"Go to bed, darlin'," he said, lifting her to her feet.
"I don't want you to go," she murmured drowsily.
"And I don't want to go," he said, "but it's late and you're half asleep."
"No, I'm not," she protested, smothering a yawn.
Vince laughed softly. "Go to bed, darlin', and dream of me."
With a sleepy sigh, she lifted her face for one more kiss.
"Good night, my love," he whispered, though it wasn't good night, but good-bye. He held her close, knowing it was for the last time, and then he let her go.
He walked out of the house, a great emptiness in his chest where his heart had been.
Sliding behind the wheel of the Mustang, he backed out of the driveway, then headed for a deserted stretch of highway. Putting the pedal to the metal, he pushed the car as fast as it would go. He was doing the right thing and he knew it, but dammit, why did it have to be so hard and hurt so damn much? She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He had lost his humanity; he shouldn't have to lose the only woman he had ever loved, or would ever love, as well.
Of course, he wasn't leaving town just yet. He would hang around until the creature was no longer a threat to Cara's safety, but he wouldn't see or speak to Cara again. It was for her own good, he told himself, and for his, as well.
But he didn't have to like it.