His eyes grew darker, more intense. He whispered one word. “Sleep.”
And the world went black.
Megan woke slowly. Her first thought was to wonder why the room was rocking back and forth. Were they having an earthquake? She took a deep breath, and her nostrils filled with the scent of the ocean. It took her a moment to realize she was on a boat.
A boat? Frowning, she tried to sit up, only then realizing that her hands were tied behind her back. A quick glance showed she was lying on a narrow bunk. In the dim light of a hanging lamp, she could see that the floor was highly polished. A patch of sky sprinkled with stars was visible through the porthole across from the bunk. How long had she been unconscious? How had she gotten here?
Fear hit her then, hard and quick, in the pit of her stomach. Feeling as though she was going to be sick, she rolled onto her side as the memory of what had happened came rushing back. Shirl had come to the house with some phony story, and Megan had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. And then Shirl had invited Villagrande inside, and he had hypnotized her or something.
Where was he now? And what was he going to do with her? Nothing good, she was sure of that. She told herself there was nothing to worry about. Rhys would find her.
And then she gasped. Of course, that’s why Villagrande had kidnapped her. Because he knew Rhys would come after her.
But maybe she was worrying for nothing. Rhys had said he was going to give Villagrande what he wanted, so maybe there was nothing to fear. If Rhys wasn’t going to fight Villagrande for control of the city, then the conflict should be over.
So why didn’t that make her feel any better?
Her heart skipped a beat when the cabin door opened. A moment later, Shirl came into view looking as long-legged and gorgeous as always. Tonight, she wore a pair of skintight white pants and an emerald green silk shirt.
Megan glared at her. It was hard to remember that Shirl had once been her best friend. They had shared a home, laughter and tears, their secret hopes and dreams. Looking at Shirl now, all Megan saw was a stranger. Rhys had told her that becoming a vampire brought out the best or the worst in people. It had definitely brought out the worst in her former best friend.
Shirl moved closer to the bunk. “Would you believe me if I said I was sorry?”
Megan struggled into a sitting position. “What do you think?”
“I can’t help it, Meggie. I have to do what he says.”
“I don’t believe that either.”
“He promised not to hurt you.”
“And you believed him?” Megan asked incredulously.
“Meggie, you’re my best friend.”
“Then untie me and let me go. There’s no need for any of this. Rhys isn’t going to fight your lover for the city. He’s going to leave.”
“Did Rhys tell you that?”
“Yes. Where’s Villagrande?”
“He went hunting.” A dreamy smile played over Shirl’s lips. “He loves to hunt when the moon is full. I don’t know why.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?”
“I went earlier. Sometimes he likes to hunt alone.” Shirl lifted one shoulder and let it fall, as if it was of no concern whether he hunted alone or not, but she couldn’t disguise the petulant tone in her voice.
Megan shook her head. “I look at you and I hear you, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You talk about hunting as if it’s nothing at all. Have you forgotten that you were once human? That all you wanted was to live a normal life? And now you’re no better than he is.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Shirl murmured.
“Then let me go! If there’s any humanity left in you, let me go before it’s too late.”
“He’ll only find you again,” Shirl murmured, sounding both resigned and proud at the same time. “No matter where you go, he’ll find you. You can’t hide from him. You can’t fight him. He’s not only immortal, Meggie. He’s invincible. And some day, I’ll be just like him.”
Megan closed her eyes as Shirl’s words crushed her only hope of escape. She didn’t know what Villagrande had done to Shirl, but it was obvious he owned her, body and soul. Megan had a terrible suspicion that Shirl would kill her without a qualm if Villagrande said the word. And that was the scariest thought of all.
Rhys whistled softly as he made his way back to Megan’s house. If he had known what spending the day in Megan’s bed would lead to, he would have done it a hell of a lot sooner, he thought, and then swore softly. He would have to be more considerate of Megan in the future. He had behaved like a rutting bull. She hadn’t complained, but in the future, he needed to remember that she didn’t have the same strength and stamina that he did. Had it been up to him, they would still be in bed, but she had needed rest and nourishment, and so he had told her he needed to feed and left the house.
He had contacted Nicholas earlier and learned that the three remaining Council members were staying in one of Volger’s lairs in Blue Grass, Iowa, and that several of Volger’s vampires, along with a few trusted humans, were also on the premises to keep an eye out for Villagrande. Rhys had snorted when he heard the name of the town. Blue Grass had a population of just over a thousand; twenty-five percent of the residents were under the age of eighteen. And then he had grinned inwardly. Julius had always had a taste for young blood.
As for Hastings, no one knew where’d he gone. According to Nicholas, Hastings had been there one night and the next he was gone. The general consensus was that he’d headed back to Medford and Villagrande had found him there.
“Stupid,” Rhys had muttered. If Hastings had just stayed put, he’d still be alive.
Nicholas had added that they were all getting antsy and wanted to know when they could return to their own lairs.
Rhys had assured Nicholas it would be soon, and hoped that was the truth. As for himself, he hated to leave LA, but what the hell, the world was a big place. He hadn’t been to Italy in a while. He wondered if Megan had ever been to Naples or Sicily, and then frowned. He was taking a lot for granted. True, she had said she would marry him, but that didn’t mean she wanted to quit her job or leave the country. For that matter, they hadn’t set a date for the wedding, either. He didn’t know if she wanted a big wedding or if she would be content with something more intimate, say just the two of them. One thing he did know—she was going to make a beautiful bride.
A glance at the sky showed it was almost eleven. Smiling, he quickened his step, eager to see her again.
He knew, before he opened the front door, that she was gone. A single, indrawn breath told him what had transpired. Oh, not the details, but Shirl’s scent was strong in the air, as was Villagrande’s. Rhys didn’t know how the other two vampires had managed to penetrate the protective wards and spells that had been placed on Megan’s house, but that didn’t matter. All that was important now was that Villagrande had Megan.
Rhys swore a vile oath as he stepped back and slammed the door. Dammit! So much for Erik’s protective magick! Why the hell hadn’t it worked? And where was Megan?
He followed her scent until it disappeared and then, closing his eyes, he took several slow deep breaths and opened his senses, homing in on the blood bond that connected them.
It drew him unerringly down the coast toward San Diego.
Speeding through the night faster than the human eye could follow, he prayed he wasn’t too late.
Chapter 40
Megan didn’t hear him coming, but she knew when Villagrande boarded the ship. It was as if a dark shroud settled over the craft. Evil slid along her skin and crawled inside her like some loathsome insect. She knew, somehow, that when she had seen him before, he had been masking his true self, and that what she sensed now was the real Tomás Villagrande. Had he been masking his true nature from Shirl? Or was she so infatuated with his supernatural power and his promises that she had turned a blind eye to the truth of what he was?
He appeared beside the bunk between one heartbeat and the next. Eyes red, fangs bared, he was a nightmare come to life.
“So.” Moving closer to the bunk, he swept his gaze over her. It made her feel dirty, defiled. “It’s time for dinner.”
Megan stared up at him. Heart pounding, body trembling uncontrollably, she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Like a fox helplessly caught in the jaws of a trap, she could only stare up at him while a voice in the back of her mind whispered that this was what death looked like.
Thoughts flew through her mind like leaves in a wind storm. She would never see her parents again. Never see Rhys. Never be a bride. Darkness swirled at the edge of her consciousness, and she prayed she would pass out before Villagrande sank his fangs into her throat. What if he didn’t intend to kill her? What if he turned her into a vampire? For a fleeting moment, she thought she would rather be a vampire than die so horribly, but then Villagrande grinned at her and she knew she’d rather be dead than become what he was.
His fangs lengthened. Gleaming. Bright white. She took a deep breath as fear coiled deep in the pit of her stomach. She tried to look away from his hellish gaze, but like a rabbit mesmerized by a snake, she could only lie there, waiting for death to strike.
Megan tensed when Villagrande lowered his head to her neck, but then a curious thing happened. As soon as his fangs touched her skin, a shower of bright golden yellow sparks exploded between them. Villagrande reared back, a vile curse issuing from his lips.
Startled, Megan cried out, her whole body tensing in fearful anticipation as the fiery embers rained down on her face and neck, but there was no pain. The bright yellow sparks vanished when they touched her skin.
Villagrande wasn’t so fortunate. The embers burned his skin wherever they touched, leaving raw, red patches.
He reeled backward as Shirl burst into the cabin. “Tomás, what’s going on…?”
She had scarcely uttered the words when Rhys appeared behind her in the doorway. His eyes took on a warm red glow when he saw Villagrande, and, before Megan could move or speak, Villagrande and Rhys were on each other.