He nodded. So much for being friends, he thought. Although he had hoped for so much more than that.
She felt him withdraw from her even before he lowered his arm and rose to his feet. “I won’t bother you anymore.”
Before his words had time to sink in, he vanished from the room.
Murmuring, “What have I done?” Sara stared at the place where Travis had stood only moments before.
And then she burst into tears.
Travis stood in the shadows, feeling lost, and then he went back to the hospital. He found Overstreet still sitting on the bed, still scribbling in his notebook.
“Damn!” the journalist said. “Can’t you make some noise when you enter a room?”
“Sorry. Next time I’ll slam the door or knock over a trash can.”
“What brings you back here so soon?”
“Like you, I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“Oh? What happened? Did Sara throw you out?”
“In a way.”
“I’m sorry,” Overstreet muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I was a fool to think there was a chance for us.” Shoulders slumped, Travis dropped into the chair he had occupied earlier.
Overstreet shook his head. Man or vampire, there was nothing worse than unrequited love. “So, what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. What about you? How’s the story going?”
“Nowhere, actually. I haven’t seen anything suspicious even though I’m sure this place is crawling with vampires. And I’m beginning to think it was a mistake coming here. I’m pretty sure nobody in town is going to confess to torturing Joey Cannon and equally certain if I found out any of the details or who was involved, I’d be dead before I could get it down on paper.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I just hate like hell to give up and let whoever was responsible go unpunished. If you’d seen Joey …” Overstreet shook his head. “He looked like he’d been through hell and back.”
Travis snorted. “What were you planning to do if you found the culprit? Haul him off to the local law? I’d pay money to see that.”
Overstreet laughed good-naturedly. “Yeah, me, too!” Putting his notebook aside, he held up a deck of cards. “Gin rummy?”
“Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”
Olivia looked up when Jason entered the room. She smiled, thinking this was the best part of the day. The chores were done. Luke and Debbie were in their rooms doing their homework. And she had Jason all to herself until it was time to put the kids to bed.
He kissed her then asked, “Did you find out anything?”
She nodded. “I went to see Winona a little while ago and she told me his name is Carl Overstreet. He’s a freelance journalist. I looked him up online and you won’t believe this, but last year he published a series of articles about vampires! Do you think he came here looking for another story?”
“I don’t know but it makes sense. How about booting up the computer while I go out? I’d like to read his stuff. And then I think we’d better let the others know what’s going on.”
“Jason, what if that man is here to do another story on vampires? That could be dangerous.”
“Not to worry, darlin’. I don’t intend to let that happen.”
Chapter 13
Shannah sighed as she curled up next to Ronan and pillowed her head on his shoulder. She had been wasting away from some rare disease when she tracked him down. Dying and afraid, she had begged him to turn her into a vampire. At first, he had denied what he was. Gradually, they had become friends. And then more than friends, she thought with a smile. Life was certainly strange. She had gone to him seeking the dark trick and then, when he had bestowed it on her, she had hated him for it for a long time. Only now did she realize he had given her a wonderful gift—the gift of life. True, it was as different from her old life as night from day, but she had no complaints. Not when he was here to share it with her.
“Ronan, are you ever going to write any more books?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You’re such a good author. I’m sure your avid fans are eagerly awaiting the next one.”
He grunted softly. Being a vampire, he had never done interviews, never gone on national book tours or talk shows. It had been easier to flat out refuse than to constantly come up with one excuse after another to explain why he wasn’t available for appearances on Sunday morning gab fests or make an appearance at afternoon book signings. And then, just when his publisher declared they were sick and tired of his excuses, Shannah had come into his life. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He had convinced her to pretend to be him, which had worked well until Overstreet and Hewitt showed up at a book signing and started asking questions.
“I think maybe I’ll have to retire,” Ronan said, stroking her cheek, “now that you can no longer pretend to be me.”
“Oh! I didn’t think of that.” She tilted her head to the side. “I guess you could go back to being a reclusive author again. Or maybe you could self-publish?”
He nodded. “I suppose that’s a possibility, should I suddenly be stricken with inspiration for a new book. Fortunately, we don’t need the money.”
That was for sure, she thought. He had more money than he could spend in a dozen lifetimes.
Ronan held her close, remembering how desolate he had been when Shannah was on the verge of death. She had told him she didn’t want to be what he was, that now, when he was offering it to her, she no longer wanted it. Unable to face a future without her in it, he had turned her against her will. At first, he had been certain he had lost her love forever, but their
