“You don’t act like one,” Sara said quietly. Or look like one, she thought. The thing that had attacked her had looked like a monster. “You saved my life from a real monster the other night. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Travis muttered.
“Is that how you feel?” Overstreet asked curiously. “Like some blood-thirsty creature with no sense of right and wrong?”
“What? No. But I don’t feel like me, either.” Travis looked at Sara. “You’re a constant temptation,” he said. “Your blood smells so good. Sometimes it drives me crazy.”
Sara lifted a hand to her throat. He was a vampire. He had spent the night in her house. She had danced with him, let him kiss her.
“You’re wondering if I’ve bitten you,” he said, his voice thick with guilt.
She nodded, her eyes wide.
“Sara, I’m sorry. I swear I only took a little. Please believe me, I’d never hurt you.”
She stared at him, pity and trepidation warring in her mind. And then to her astonishment, his body took on a strange aura.
A moment later he disappeared from sight.
Overstreet grunted softly. Hewitt had killed vampires. Now he was a vampire. How many others resided in this quiet little town?
Chapter 9
Travis went hunting in the next town, which was considerably larger than Susandale. Langston was just a normal American city, full of noise and people going about their business, completely unaware that a monster had entered their domain. He detected no other vampires within the city limits as he prowled the back streets.
He had chosen to reside in Susandale because it was a quiet place, rumored to be a haven for vampires who wanted to live as normal a life as possible. As a rule, vampires were solitary creatures and he’d found that to be more or less true in Susandale. They all lived in the same town, but as far as he knew, there was little socializing among the Undead, although he knew the human spouses—male and female—met often.
He swore under his breath. Why the hell had Overstreet shown up here now? he wondered bleakly. It had ruined everything. Sara would never look at him the same way again. Assuming she ever wanted to see him again, which he doubted. Oh, hell, it wasn’t going to last, anyway. He was pretty sure that the women who would knowingly date a vampire were few and far between.
And then, thinking about Ronan, he frowned. Shannah had loved that vampire enough to let him turn her. Of course, she had been dying at the time, so maybe it hadn’t been much of a choice, but there was no doubt she had been deeply in love with him. And Ronan with her. But how often did that happen?
His incessant hunger clawed at his vitals, driving every other thought from his mind. Pickings were slim on a Sunday night. Only the bars and the movie theaters were open late, and since females on the prowl were apt to be in the night clubs hoping to get lucky, he headed for the nearest one.
Inside, he glanced around, his gaze settling on a woman in her early thirties sitting alone at the end of the bar, nursing a drink. He took the seat beside her and spoke to her mind, assuring her that he meant her no harm as he took her hand and led her outside into the shadows. He fed quickly, then released her from his thrall and sent her on her way. He told himself he wasn’t a monster. A monster would have taken it all.
But it didn’t help. He knew what he was.
Sara and Overstreet remained at the table after Travis left. She wondered if Carl was as flabbergasted as she was by what she had learned tonight. Travis—no Jim—was a vampire. She never would have guessed. He seemed so … so normal. Maybe one of the nicest guys she had ever met. Just her rotten luck that he was a vampire, she thought glumly.
“That interview you did,” she said, breaking the silence between them. “Was that the vampire who turned Travis, er, Jim?”
Overstreet nodded. “Ronan, yeah. I’m surprised he let Hewitt go. From the little I knew about that vampire, I would have bet my last dollar he would have killed the boy out of hand,” he said, and then added, “I guess, technically, he did, since vampires are considered dead by some.”
Sara grimaced. “Do you think that’s true?”
“I’m not sure. Some think they’re stone-cold dead by day, but I’ve heard some older vampires can be awake when the sun is up, so I guess they’re not really dead, at least not in the way we know it.” He regarded Sara a long moment. “You’re not falling in love with Jim, are you?”
Her gaze slid away from his. “I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t advise it.”
“I don’t suppose it matters. After tonight, I’ll probably never see him again.” She pushed away from the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No. Thank you for dinner. It was most … enlightening.” Rising, he dropped his napkin on the table. “Be careful, Sara. There might be other vampires in this town. And be careful of Hewitt. He hasn’t been a vampire very long. New ones can’t always control their hunger, or their urge to kill.”
She nodded, then followed him to the door.
He reached for the handle, then turned to face her. “Vampires can only enter a home with an invitation from the owner or the one who has legal residence—like a renter. For your own safety, I would advise you to revoke Hewitt’s invitation. And whatever you do, don’t invite any strangers into your house, day or night.”
“Carl, you’re scaring me.”
“A little fear is a healthy thing. Good night, Sara. Don’t forget to lock up after me.”
“Good night.” She watched him climb into his battered old truck and drive
