Keeper of the Dawn

local Others.”

“Go on,” Mark said. “Say it. Vampires.”

“Well, everything starts somewhere, and I swear, I’m not looking to offend vampires,” she said, gazing across the counter at him. His expression was amused, and she realized that he’d been baiting her.

He and Brodie had arrived half an hour ago. She’d immediately begun to study the report, and then had started formulating the potion she hoped would be an antidote. She realized that she was ridiculously ill at ease with Mark, especially right there in her house. It had been one thing to dream about a ridiculous wedding in which she was somehow intended to be a sacrifice—it was quite another to dream about having wanton sex with the man. The best antidote for her was to keep as busy as possible creating an antidote for Transymil.

Brodie, Sailor and Declan had just left, and she was all too aware of being alone with Mark.

“What’s in there?” he asked, looking at the steaming pot on her stove.

“Simple things, mostly. Tannic acid, ground coffee, mustard and castor oils, and then some ingredients we Elven are particularly aware of. Fenweddin, persicle, bee leaf. And...” She paused, looking for a sharp knife. She glanced at him apologetically for a moment as she prepared to prick her finger. “...a drop of Elven blood. It has restorative properties.”

“Do you want me to leave the room?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Are you afraid I’ll see that speck of blood and freak out, sink my fangs into you and drain you dry in a flash of uncontrollable desire?”

She felt a flush rising to her cheeks. She was very afraid that she wouldn’t mind the uncontrollable desire part as long as he left the fangs out of it.

I don’t even like him! she told herself.

But she did.

“Alessande, I’ve been on synthetic blood since I was born. My mother didn’t even go for slaughterhouse blood, the way so many people did. She’s a vegetarian,” he told her.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. Then she pricked her finger and allowed three drops of blood to fall into the potion.

“What now?” he asked as she stirred the pot.

“Now, it needs about two hours to simmer,” she said. “How are you and Brodie going to get this to her? She’s in the hospital—and I’m assuming there’s a police guard on her. If they’re not Others...”

Mark nodded. “True. But Brodie and I are the lead detectives on the related murder case. We’ll have no problem getting in.”

“But you have to get this into her—unnoticed.”

“I am a vampire,” he reminded her.

“Right,” Alessande said, and moved uneasily away from the stove. She looked out the window and breathed in the peace of her surroundings. Her house, which was actually a cabin, stood in a beautiful forested area. She needed the trees; Elven were tied to the earth. They hadn’t come to the States until commercial flight had become common, because they couldn’t survive in water for long, and even traveling on the water by ship was draining for them. In fact, if they were away from land for too long, they perished.

She glanced toward the bay window in her living room. An ornament hung there, a talisman for her people, a tree with roots so long that they grew upward toward the sky and joined with the branches.

She had always loved what she was; her people believed in learning and in healing, and they truly honored the earth.

But now she knew that she wasn’t only Elven. Her biological father had been a Keeper.

“Are you all right?” Mark asked her.

“Of course.” She lowered the heat on the potion so that it could simmer and covered the steaming pot. Nervously she looked at him. “Um, if there’s something you need to do, feel free. You can come back in a couple hours when this is ready.”

He shook his head. “Alessande, there is no way on earth that I’m going to leave you alone right now.”

“You really don’t need to worry. I doubt many people even know that this cabin is here.”

He sighed, and actually seemed to be struggling for patience. “Alessande, I’m a cop. And as a cop you learn pretty quickly that if a bad guy wants to find someone, he does. I meant what I said. I’m not leaving you alone until this is over.”

“Oh, well...we have two hours, then.”

“What, that’s it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“No passionate demands that I leave? No insistence that you can take care of yourself, that you’re not just Elven, you’re destined to be a Keeper?” But he was smiling, and she loved that smile. Loved the way it made the gold flecks seem to burn in his eyes, loved the little dimple it caused to appear in just one cheek.

“No,” she said simply. “So...what would you like to do? We can watch a movie, listen to some music. I have some board games around here somewhere.”

She was startled when he walked over to stand beside her, just leaning against the counter, not quite touching her.

“We could have mad passionate sex,” he said.

Her breath caught. “I, uh, I was under the impression that you didn’t like me very much.”

“Sad to say the truth about men and sex—any men, human, Other, anything in between—is that, on the one hand, liking someone doesn’t really matter very much. But, on the other hand, you’re very much mistaken. I do like you,” he told her, humor still in his eyes. And then his voice changed, going soft and serious. “I like you too much.”

She stared at him for a long moment. She wondered if it was just her, or if the like part didn’t always matter that much with women, either—Elven, Other, human, whatever—not when the man was Mark, someone who moved with confidence, had the perfect physique, had the sexiest hint of huskiness in his voice and flecks of gold in his eyes....

She moved into his arms, reaching up to touch his face.

“Movie, board game...hot passionate sex,” she whispered. “Um, I think the third would be my choice.”

This time she kissed him. She arched against him, rising on her toes, sliding her fingers down his cheek. Her lips touched his and their mouths parted, and, as their tongues met, she felt as if the world around her grew electrified, or maybe it was just her...just the impossible heat of him filling her.

He wound his arms around her, drawing her closer and closer. His hands slid along her back to her buttocks, and then she was flush against him and wishing she could feel his flesh against hers. He seemed to feel the same way. He started to rip at his shirt, then remembered he was wearing a gun and stepped back, looking at her apologetically as he removed his holster.

No sooner had he set the gun on the counter than her hands were on his buttons and his were on the soft silk of her blouse. They fumbled with each other’s clothing as their lips met again. She spoke against his mouth as they leaned against the counter. “I do have a bedroom.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She caught him by the arm and started to lead him toward it, but he stopped, and for a moment she was confused. Had she acted too quickly? Was she crazy? Were they just playing some kind of ridiculous game and he’d thought better of it?

But he’d only stopped for his gun. “Wherever we go...it comes with us.”

She drew him into the bedroom.

She loved her room. It was beautifully paneled in natural woods. Her bed was in an alcove, the head- and footboards and posts carved with leaves.

He pulled back for a second to look. “Wow.”

“Too much?” she asked.

“No, just...wow.”

He laid the holster on the bedside table and fell with her onto her mattress. And when they landed, he smiled down at her. “I think I’ve gone a little crazy, because right now I could devour you like a rabid werewolf,” he said.