“Sounds good.”
“I’m in the mood for a comedy.”
After all she’d been through, he couldn’t blame her. She found a romantic comedy starring Cameron Diaz and Jude Law, then sat beside him, her thigh brushing against his. But tonight his mind wasn’t on Sara. He was thinking about Overstreet, trying to decide whether to confront the man, or avoid him. A writer nosing around, one who knew the truth, could cause a lot of trouble. The last thing the town needed was for Overstreet to start sniffing around, alerting hunters. If Carl knew what was good for him, he’d get the hell out of Susandale before the wrong people discovered what he was up to.
Travis blew out a sigh. Maybe he should go have a talk with him. They had been casual friends not long ago. And if he couldn’t convince Overstreet to move on, what then?
Damn. Just when he’d thought his life was looking better, trouble came to town.
There were all kinds of trouble, he thought, running his fingers through the silk of Sara’s hair. She had fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his shoulder, one hand resting on his thigh. Her scent surrounded him, warm, womanly, desirable. His gaze moved to the curve of her cheek, down to the pulse throbbing slow and steady in the hollow of her throat. He wanted her. Needed her.
Unable to help himself, he ran his tongue along the side of her neck. Since that night on the dance floor, he had been yearning to taste her again. Just a small taste. What harm could it do? She need never know.
Despising himself for his weakness, he spoke to her mind, willing her to stay asleep until morning as he slipped his arm around her shoulders. After brushing her hair aside, he murmured “Forgive me,” and then he took what he so desperately craved.
She stirred in his arms, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Stricken with guilt, he lifted his head. He had to get out of here, now, before his hunger burned out of control.
Cradling her in his arms, he carried her into her room and tucked her into bed. He stood there a moment, gazing down at her, thinking how beautiful she was. How innocent.
How vulnerable.
“I’ll keep you safe from the monsters, Sara, I swear I will, no matter what the cost.”
In her sleep, she murmured his name.
It was almost his undoing. He brushed a kiss across her cheek, and then fled the house before he broke the vow he had just made.
Chapter 7
Ronan sat in the dark, staring at the flames dancing in the den’s fireplace. Shannah slept on the sofa beside him, her head pillowed on his lap. He’d found himself thinking about his fledgling more and more often ever since his darling wife had asked about him. Ronan blew out a sigh. He should have killed the man. Would have done so had it not been for Shannah. She hadn’t said anything to stop him, but he had felt her disapproval. It was the one thing he couldn’t abide. So, he had given the hunter a choice, never really expecting Hewitt to ask to become what he’d hunted all his life.
He had met Shannah, Hewitt, and Overstreet all within a short period of time and from then on, their lives had been strangely intertwined.
Closing his eyes, he thought back to when it all began …
Dying of some rare blood disease with no known cure, Shannah had come seeking a vampire who might save her life. It had taken a while to convince the girl he wasn’t what she was looking for and then, because she had no place else to go, he had taken her into his home. Enchanted by her innocence and her beauty, he had given her a little of his blood while she slept. He didn’t have the power to heal her, but his blood had strengthened her and prolonged her life.
About that same time, his publisher began insisting Ronan do book signings and daytime interviews on TV, something he was unable to do. But there was Shannah, young and lovely and literate. He coached her about the books he’d written, bought her an expensive new wardrobe and sent her out into the world as the face of Claire Ebon, Eva Black and Stella Raven.
And then Hewitt and Overstreet had arrived on the scene and his life had taken a dramatic turn. Hewitt wanted his head. Overstreet wanted an interview. Ronan was not inclined to offer either one.
Until the fools kidnapped Shannah.
She had been on the verge of death when he tracked her to where they had taken her. He had demanded they bring her to him. They had refused. And then Overstreet proposed that Ronan give him the interview he coveted in exchange for Shannah. He’d had no other choice but to agree.
When the interview was over, Hewitt refused to surrender Shannah, fearing, and rightly so, that Ronan would kill him and Overstreet both. In the end, Ronan had given his word that he would not harm them that night if they brought Shannah to him before it was too late.
He had brought her across when he got her home. Later, they had wed.
He had never thought to see Jim Hewitt again. Hadn’t given the man a second thought since the night he turned him, until Shannah mentioned his name. Now he couldn’t think of anything else. Shannah had said abandoning the hunter had been cruel.
And it had been.
Maybe one of these days he would search Hewitt out and see how he was getting along.
And maybe not.
Chapter 8
Sunday was a slow, lazy day. Unlike most cities and towns across the country, Susandale’s shops remained closed all day, which was fine with Sara. Her parents hadn’t believed in shopping on the Sabbath, a habit that Sara still adhered to.
After making her bed, she fixed breakfast, did the dishes, put in a load of wash.
At loose
