"Has all the comforts of home, don't you think?"
Edge was standing in the window of an abandoned, falling-down church. He'd pushed open the shutters, spoken softly to her as she'd followed her sense of him along the beach. She turned, scanning the darkness. She saw well in the darkness, not as well as a vampire, but far better than a human.
It was always this way, Amber thought as she spotted him there and altered her course, turning toward the church. Everything she did, every talent she had, she weighed against the norms of the undead and of the living, trying to figure out where she fit.
She walked up to the window, stood on the ground looking up at him, six feet above her. "So does this luxury beach house have a door, or... ?"
He reached down, bending low. She took his hand, and he easily pulled her up and inside. Her body slammed into his as she landed, and he wrapped his free arm around her waist as if to steady her, and kept her there.
She lifted her head, saw the mischief in his eyes and the heat around the edges of his smile. She felt the firmness of his body against hers and the power of his arms around her. It felt far too good, made her want far too much more.
He let her go all too soon and turned to walk around the crumbling rain. She scanned the place, taking in every detail. The duffel bag slung on one of the pews, the other pew that had been placed on the dais, and the odd items that sat upon it among some candles that had been recently snuffed. He watched her look around the place.
"Well?" he asked. "You approve?"
"It's a hovel."
He shrugged. "Yeah, but it's home." He brushed a layer of dust off an empty pew, and she sat down.
"You should have stayed with us at the house. Could've had your own room, a soft bed, indoor plumbing... "
"Here I have my own bell." When she frowned, he pointed upward, and she saw the rope hanging from a hole in the ceiling. "Up above, it's open clear to the steeple. There's a bell at the other end of this rope."
"If you ring it, you'll blow your cover."
"It is a dilemma."
She smiled at him. "So what's with the little altar?" As she said it, she nodded toward the pew with the candles and other items. "You into Voodoo or something?"
"It's only a few mementos."
Sliding off her pew, she moved closer to take a better look. "You mind?"
He shrugged, so she examined the items more closely, even picking up one or two. An earring, a pair of barrettes. "So you wore an earring and barrettes when you were alive?"
"Not exactly."
She handled the switchblade, examining the initials engraved in the bone handle. B. R. "These aren't yours, are they?"
"Are now."
He was shifting his weight, his eyes moving rapidly from his keepsakes to her hands on them. It made him uncomfortable, her handling these things. She put the blade down carefully. "If you don't want to tell me, just say so."
Again, he only shrugged, then turned away. "So what's the deal? Back at the mansion, I mean?"
It was hardly a mansion. She averted her eyes. "I told you about Willem. He's mortal, and he's sick."
"Dying," he said.
She sighed.
"Not if I have anything to say about it."
"There's the rub, though, isn't it?" She looked at him sharply. "You don't have anything to say about it. Do you?"
She shrugged. "You might be surprised." He licked his lips. "That Egyptian Princess-she bled you, didn't she?"
Amber frowned. "With my full consent."
"I thought as much. Otherwise I'd have torn into her." That brought a smile to her face. He saw it and tipped his head. "What, you think I'd have trouble with her?"
"I don't think, I know."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm tougher than I look, you know."
"You look plenty tough. Don't get all offended." He sighed. "Doesn't matter. If I'd thought she was harming you-"
"You'd have fought to defend me, huh?"
"Do you doubt it?" He was serious now, his eyes darkening, taking on a look of intense emotion. She got the feeling he was lying but decided to believe. He moved closer, cupped her cheek in one hand and bent toward her. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to, but she knew damn well she was going to lose her focus the minute his mouth touched hers. So she spoke just before it did, while his eyes were closed and his breath was fanning her face.
"What do you really want from me, Edge?''
It caught him off guard. His eyes popped open, and they held the expression of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he caught himself fast, banished the guilty look and replaced it with a lecherous one. "I thought we'd start with the kissing. From there, I have all sorts of ideas."
Her stomach knotted a little at the suggestion of sex, even though he hadn't actually said it. He didn't have to say it. He practically oozed it. "Beyond that, I mean," she managed, her words emerging hoarsely from a throat that had gone tight. "Why did you fling yourself in front of my car last night? Why are you pretending to be interested in me now?"
He blinked at her as if in confusion. "Do you cast a reflection, Alby?"
Frowning, she nodded. "Yes. Why?"
"Just wondering if you've ever seen yourself in a mirror."
She rolled her eyes, told herself not to let his smooth, slow words make her lose track of her mission here, and gently extricated herself from his full body embrace.
"If you have, why would you accuse me of pretending to want you?''
"You've only known me for twenty-four hours, Edge, and half of those you were resting."
"I wanted you in the first ten seconds," he said. Then he shrugged. "Being female and half mortal, I suppose you're one of those who believes it's necessary to get to know a person before indulging in an exchange of mutual ecstasy."
"Well, yeah. Especially with someone who's being less than honest about his motives."
"I'm being perfectly honest, Alby. I'm not declaring eternal love, and I'll tell you up-front that I never will. Hell, I'm not even sure I like you much at this point. This-" he ran a finger along her cheek until she shivered "-is purely physical." He ran his hand slowly down her neck, to her shoulder, from her shoulder down her back, following the curve of her spine. His fingertips left a tingling wave of sensation in their wake. His hand kept sliding lower, until she stepped away from his touch. "I don't believe in self-denial," he said softly.
"Then I'll do the denying."
"Hell." He heaved a sigh and flung himself onto one of the pews, sitting heavily. "So why are you here, Alby? If you didn't come to let me ravish you, what are you doing here?"
She bit her lip. "I already told you, I want to know why you're interested in me. What were you doing on that road?"
"Walking to Salem."
"Why?"
"Because my car died. I told you that."
"And why did you throw yourself in front of my car and pretend I hit you?"
He pursed his lips, lowered his gaze to the floor, sighed. "All right. All right, you're too smart for me. I did do that. I thought it was my best shot at getting a ride." He licked his lips and searched her eyes. "I had no idea who you were, though. Not until after the fact. And I've got no reason to try to fool you now. I already got the ride I was after."
"Not the only ride you're after," she muttered.
"Well, that goes without saying." His smile was one of pure mischief, and it turned her on like nothing she'd ever seen. "The only question now is, how am I going to get you to change your mind?"
She averted her face, felt the blood heating her cheeks.
"How long are you staying in Salem Harbor, Alby?"
She shrugged. "It really depends. There's a... a man who might be able to help me save Willem. If I can find out where he is, I'll leave immediately."
He nodded slowly. "Then we'll have to make the most of our time together, won't we?"
She felt her brows rise, turned to him in surprise.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten our conversation in the car? I promised I would help you figure out who and what you are." He shrugged. "It'll give me a chance to charm you out of your clothes, while I'm at it."
"Right." She sighed. "So how do you plan to do that?"
"Charm you out of your clothes?"
"Help me figure out what I am." If she were honest, she would admit she was more interested in the other. She was half afraid he could do it. Half hoping he could.
"You come back here tomorrow night, and I'll show you."
She licked her lips, nerves jumping. "Don't expect anything in return, Edge."
"Oh, I don't expect-I demand something in return."
She lifted her brows. "Do you?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"What?"
"This." He rose from the pew, walked slowly toward her, holding her eyes with his. She didn't move away, didn't even think about it. He pressed his palms to hers, at her sides, pressed his body to hers, rubbing, and she didn't pull back. No, she stood firm when he pressed himself against her, even, maybe, pressed back a little. He tipped his head to one side, she tipped hers to the other, and he lowered his mouth slowly, slowly closer to hers. Just before his lips touched her, he whispered, "Of course, I won't collect until I've delivered on my promise."
He started to lift his head away. And Amber heard herself saying, "The hell you won't." She tugged her hands from his and pressed them instead to the back of his head, pulling him to her, kissing his mouth. She felt his lips trying to pull into a smile as she kissed them; then they trembled and parted, and his arms slid around her waist and pulled her even closer. He pushed her mouth wider, digging inside with his tongue and feeding from her like a man starved to death. She heard a moan, wasn't sure if it was his or hers, and felt as if her very blood were blazing-molten lava crawling beneath her skin.
Finally, when the shaking was so intense she could barely stand and her mind was spinning, he lifted his head away and whispered, "God, Alby, I could eat you alive."
The words, combined with the blazing hunger in his eyes, sent a jolt of fear through her. She'd never been bitten by a vampire before. She had no idea what it would be like, but she knew he could easily lose control and drain her to the point of death.
His hand pushed her hair from her face. "No, Alby. That's not what I meant." He shrugged. "Though that would be good, too. I'll do both before I've finished with you."
She swore under her breath at the rash of desire his words shot through her. "I have... I have to go."
"But you'll come... here... tomorrow night," he told her. Then he smiled slowly, devilishly. "I promise."
Blinking, Amber turned and went to the window, leaped out, landing hard on the ground, and then ran all the way back to the house.
Edge had, the way he saw it, two options. He could screw the woman's brains out and wait for her and her friends to get a line on Frank Stiles, then follow them to the man. Or he could screw the woman's brains out and move forward with his plan to leak word of her presence in the Salem area to some of the underworld figures he knew, using her as bait to lure Stiles right here.
Either way, he was going to have her. He'd intended to seduce her all along, from his very first glimpse of her. But what he hadn't foreseen was the fire in her and the impact it had on him. By God, he'd never wanted like this. He hoped she was as strong as she claimed to be, because otherwise, he was liable to hurt her. Having her would be an unplanned bonus. Might feel almost as good as killing Stiles was going to feel.
He wondered if he should wait just a few days. Give her friends time to do their digging. Give himself more time to explore every inch of her, fulfill her every fantasy and violate her every inhibition. If he had to use her as bait, it would, after all, put her at some risk. He didn't care, of course. His goal was all that mattered to him.
And to prove that, he had to move and move now. But he would be sure he nabbed Stiles before the man got within a mile of Amber Lily. It would be a crying shame if anything happened to her before Edge had his fill.
The house was quiet. The sun had risen half an hour ago, and everyone except for Amber had slipped quietly into the comalike day sleep of the undead. Even Will had gone to bed. Amber looked in on him, sleeping soundly beside Sarafina in their queen-size bed. It gave Amber time-time to mull over what she'd learned about Edge the night before.
Dante and Morgan had turned one spare bedroom into a kind of "search-central" headquarters. Two computers with cable modems attached, a telephone with a line splitter, and a fax machine lined the room. If not for the bed, which had been shoved up against the far wall, it would have looked more like an office than a bedroom.
Amber spent a couple of hours there, reading the pages of information Dante and Morgan had gathered. There were file folders full of it. Nothing solid, though. Several out of focus photographs that might have been the scar-faced Stiles or a thousand other men. Numerous eye witness accounts that dragged on in painful detail and told her nothing. She found no pattern to the sightings, no one geographical area where Stiles seemed more likely to be. Paris, Albany, San Diego, Houston. She glanced up at the world map that was mounted to a corkboard and hanging on the bedroom wall, understanding now what all the colored push pins signified.
She went online, searching for clues about Stiles on her own, but again she came up empty. Finally she gave in to the sleepiness that was creeping up on her. She didn't require a lot of sleep. Had never needed the eight hours most people needed. And maybe that was part of what she was, or maybe it was the result of growing up with parents who were only awake by night. Whatever it was, Amber's habit was to nap, an hour here, two hours there. Her body seemed to know just how much sleep it needed, and she always woke up once she'd had it.
Right now, it was telling her to go to bed. So she did.
She slept soundly, and she dreamed erotic dreams of her and Edge, writhing and twisting around each other, with him whispering declarations of undying love along with all manner of dirty talk in her ear.
When she woke, Amber was sweaty and her heart was racing. She got out of bed, grateful that she'd had a dream about Edge that didn't include overwhelming feelings of grief and loss, and the presence of death looming over her. She headed straight into the shower, noting that the sun was still up and beaming brightly. Then she made herself a bowl of bran flakes with a sliced banana on top and sat down to eat it in her robe with a towel on her head.
"That looks good. Think I'll join you."
She looked up to see Willem limping into the kitchen. He wore jeans and a T-shirt. His feet were bare and his hair rather tousled. She got up immediately and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his strong neck, noticing the broadness of his shoulders and chest. It was hard to believe he was sick. Except that he looked haggard this morning, as if he'd put in a particularly rough few hours.
"It's good to have you back, Amber. We've missed you. And I gotta tell you, it gets lonely being the only human around here. Especially during the day."
"Tell me about it." She turned and pulled out her own chair, nodding until he took it. "Eat that, I'll get another." He started to argue, but she turned to the counter to fix a second bowl of bran flakes with banana slices, and since it took only a few seconds, he shut up and ate.
Returning to the table with her bowl of cereal, she sat down. "Of course, I'm not exactly human. Technically."
"You're awake and it's daylight. That's human enough for me."
She smiled, understanding that he was trying to keep the conversation light. "You should get yourself some mortal help around this place. I don't know how I'd have survived without Susan and Alicia to keep me company."
He smiled. "They're a unique pair, though. You're lucky to have found people you can trust the way you trust them."
"They're family." She ate some cereal, let the comfortable silence stretch between them. Then they both said "So how are you feeling?" at the same time. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and she said, "You first, since you're the one with the cancer."
"Blunt as ever, aren't you?"
"And I expect you to be the same."
His lips thinned. "I feel like I always have, most of the time. But once in a while I get these blinding headaches. Dizziness and nausea come with them, and they just about render me useless until they pass. Afterward I feel weak and shaky for a day or so."
"You're coming off one of them now," she said, stating it as fact.
He didn't deny it.
"How long do they last?" she asked, grateful that Will was being honest with her. Of them all, he was one of the few who didn't still insist on seeing her as a child.
"The first one was ten minutes. Then they started getting longer. A half hour, an hour. Two."
"And this morning's?" she asked.
He pursed his lips, glanced at his watch. "Four and a half."
"God. Isn't there anything they can give you for them?"
"They can give me enough morphine to knock me out until it passes. I don't tike that option."
Pursing her lips, she nodded. Willem wasn't the kind of man who would enjoy being unconscious and helpless. He would rather bear the pain and remain in control.
"How often?" she asked.
"Like the duration, the frequency is increasing. I'm up to two a week now."
She reached out a hand, smoothed her fingertips over his forehead, his temple. "I'm so sorry, Will. It's not fair."
"Life isn't fair. I've had a better one than a lot of people, I'm not complaining."
"No, you wouldn't."
"It's 'Fina I'm worried about. Frankly, I don't think she'll do well, if I... " He met her eyes. "She's going to need all the help she can get. Even then, I'm not sure she'll make it."
"I'm worried about her, too," she admitted. "We'll all be here for her, Will. You know that. In the end, that's really all we can do. The rest is up to her."
"I know." He smiled at her. "Your turn. What's up with you?" Before she could speak, he added, "And I expect you to be equally blunt, Amber."
She thinned her lips. "Okay. Well... I'm not sure at all, but I don't think I've aged since Connecticut."
He frowned at her, seemed to look her over more closely. Then he tipped his head to one side. "It's not like there are all that many changes between eighteen and twenty-three, you know."
"I know."
"Still, there probably should be some."
"I've been watching Alicia. She's the only other person I've spoken to about this, by the way, so keep it between us." He nodded. "The changes are subtle. Really very subtle, but she has changed. Her face has changed. Her hips are a little wider, and it's not weight, it's adulthood. You know?"
"I know." He frowned. "You aged normally up to that point, grew from a baby to a little girl to an adolescent into a beautiful young woman. Why do you think you suddenly stopped?"
"I'm thinking maybe it was death."
He frowned.
"Stiles killed me several times while he held me. You know that. I don't think I've aged a day since." She shrugged.
"It's a solid theory."
"It's the only one I have right now."
He nodded, crunched a few more bites of cereal and finally pushed the bowl away. "So tell me about Edge."
She almost choked on a banana slice. Will leaned back in his chair, smiling, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her to come up with an answer.
She got up, stumbled to the fridge for some orange juice, poured two tiny glasses and took a drink from one of them.
"You're stalling for time, right?"
She put the juice back, carried the glasses to the table. "You're too sharp for me." Sitting down, she added, "It's not that I don't want to tell you, just that I'm not sure yet what there is to tell."
"Tina said you bit him with your car."
"Yeah, only I'm sure it was no accident. I got out to see if he was all right, and he said he was on his way to Salem. So I offered him a ride."
He nodded slowly. "You think that part was a coincidence? That you were both going to the same place?"
She shrugged. "I suppose it's not impossible. Last night I got him to admit that he deliberately bounced himself off my bumper, hoping to guilt me into a ride. Said his car had broken down and he wasn't looking forward to the walk."
"At least he was honest with you, then."
She licked her lips. "I have the feeling there's more."
"You think he's dangerous to you?"
"Yeah, but not in the way you mean."
He stared at her blankly for a moment, then his brows went up. "Oh."
She had to avert her eyes.
"So you like him, huh?"
"Hell, Willem, I don't even know him."
"But you're attracted to him."
She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Big time."
"And it's mutual?"
She shrugged. "Either it's mutual or he's faking it because he's up to something, and I'm having trouble figuring out which."
"You want me to kick his ass for you?"
She laughed at that, and Will made a wounded expression. "What, you think I'm not up to it?"
"I'm sure you'd manage, Willem. You're not untalented in that area, for a mortal. I was just thinking you'd have to stand in line behind your bride, my parents and Aunt Rhiannon.''
He nodded in agreement. "I doubt they'd leave me any scraps."
"Pandora has dibs on the scraps. But frankly, I'd rather give Edge a chance to show his true colors."
He nodded slowly. "That makes sense. So what's the plan?"
"He seems to want to see me. Keep me around. I can't imagine what he wants from me, but-" She ignored the quick look he sent her. "But I think I'll figure it out, given time. And as long as he's here on the Rock, and I'm here, I may as well spend some time with him, see what I can find out."
He licked his lips, saying nothing.
She met his eyes. "What?"
He seemed uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. Then he said, "Dammit, Amber, it's not my place. This is out of my field, you know. But... well, given what I know about your parents and your upbringing, I would guess you're not altogether... experienced. With the opposite sex, I mean."
She shrugged. "I'm psychic. I'm powerful. I'm strong. I've fought at my father's side more than once."
"But you've never had a boyfriend."
She licked her lips, averted her eyes. "Well, there was Jimmy in high school. But the most we ever did was-" He held up a hand, and she broke off there, then nodded. "Okay, suffice it to say you're right. I'm not experienced in that area. But I can handle myself."
"You think so?"
She nodded. "I... think so. Besides, I think... I have to."
Willem frowned. "Have to?"
She turned her attention back to her cereal, but Will's hand came across the table and encircled her wrist, stopping its progress. The spoonful of bran flakes quivered in her. hand.
"What aren't you telling me, Amber?"
She swallowed hard, blinked twice and finally met his eyes. "I've been having... dreams."
"About?"
"About him. About Edge."
He sighed. "Hon, it's normal. Don't let that worry you. When there's an attraction, the subconscious sometimes-"
"I've been having them for a year, Willem. I met Edge for the first time on my way here, when I hit him with my car. But I've been seeing him in vivid, recurring dreams for months and months. And I don't know why. I don't know what it means. But I think... I think it has to mean something."
He blinked slowly, licked his lips, his gaze turning inward, no doubt remembering dreams of his own. "You're right," he said softly. "You have to find out what it means."
She nodded, glancing at the clock. "There's still an hour of daylight left. I thought I might go out to his place, rifle through his things and see what I can find."
"You want company?"
She shook her head. "No. I think I need to handle this on my own."
"Just let me know if you need any help, Amber. And be careful. Where is he staying, by the way?''
She looked at him with her brows raised.
"Just in case you fail to come home one night, I'll know where to look."
"Oh. Uh, there's an abandoned church a mile up the beach."
"I know it."
She tipped her bowl to her lips to drink the remaining soy milk from the bottom, then put it on the table. "Guess I'll get dressed, then." She got to her feet.
Will did, too. He came around the table, put his hands on her shoulders. "Your father wouldn't like this."
"My father still thinks of me as a little girl. But you know I'm not."
"I know," he said. "Just... don't let this Edge character get the best of you. No matter what you decide to do or not to do, make sure it's what you want. Your decision, Amber. For your reasons. Remember what you know about him and be mindful of what you don't."
She nodded, thinking there was a lot more she didn't know about Edge than that she did.
"If he hurts you, I'll take him out," he added, as if for good measure.
She smiled. "I'm counting on it." Leaning up, she kissed Will's cheek. "I love you, you know."
"Love you, too, Amber. Be careful."
"I will."
Amber took her time, walking along the edge of the rocky beach, barefoot, her jeans rolled up so the cold water could lap at her ankles as the waves rolled in. Guilt niggled at her for mistrusting Edge as much as she did. But only a little. She tamped it down by reminding herself how often her parents and their paranoia had turned out to be dead on target. There were bad people in the world. Edge might be one of them.
When she reached the church, the shutters were closed tight. She wondered where he was resting and sent a nervous glance toward the sky. The sun was still there, beyond the trees, hanging low, but not yet setting. She had time.
She stretched her arms, reached the very bottom of the shutters and tugged on them. They didn't move; something held them from the other side. So she yanked a little harder, popping them open, but only just slightly. She didn't want to let a shaft of sunlight in if he were lying within its reach on the other side. Pulling herself up, she peered through the crack she'd made and saw no sign of Edge, so she opened the shutters farther and climbed through. A little puff of dust rose from the floor when she landed. She quickly turned to close the shutters behind her, then faced in again as she brushed her hands against each other.
And then she frowned as she took in the changed appearance of the church.
The pews had been moved to one side, and in the large open space where they'd been, there was... equipment. A weight bench, with barbells balanced across its upright arms. A punching bag dangling from the rafters, a mat on the floor.
"What's he up to?" she wondered aloud, pacing through the church, examining the items, which were stamped with Salem Fitness Center, Salem, MA. She crooked an eyebrow. Edge had been busy.
She looked around for his duffel bag but didn't find it. The pew on the dais still held his strange little collection of keepsakes. There were more candles now than the three that stood on the pew. He'd affixed one on each windowsill. All unlit, of course. She wondered why he saw the need for candles, when he could see better than she could in the dark.
Where was he?
She went through a door at the rear of the church. It stuck a little, swollen from the weather and hanging by only one hinge, but she shoved it open and stepped into a dark, dusty storage room. There were shelves, a couple of disintegrating boxes with candles spilling out of them, and another door. Amber shoved that door open and stared down a rickety wooden staircase. Some of the steps were broken, others missing.
He was down there. Naturally he was down there. It would be the safest place to rest. No one in their right mind would attempt to navigate the broken-down stairs in the pitch-dark to invade his privacy. His duffel bag was apparently down there with him, since she hadn't located it anywhere else.
Drawing a breath, she started carefully, stepping past the missing first step, past the broken second step, and slowly lowering her weight onto the intact-looking third step from the top.
The distinct sound of wood splitting told her she'd made a serious mistake.
The sensation of plummeting through the darkness confirmed it, and the impact drove the point home.