Shaking from head to foot, she glanced around, grimaced when she saw the body sprawled face-down on the street, a stout wooden stake embedded in its back.
The world began to spin out of focus when, suddenly, Travis was there, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tight.
“It’s all right now,” he murmured. “You’re safe with me.”
She collapsed against him, her body wracked by tremors, tears welling in her eyes and dripping down her cheeks.
Patting her back, he murmured, “Relax, Sara. You’re out of danger. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
He settled her in the front seat of his car, then retrieved her beaded bag and keys from the passenger seat of her Chevy. After shoving her things into his jacket pocket, he slid behind the wheel of his car. “Where do you live?” He already knew the answer, but he didn’t want her to know he’d been keeping an eye on her.
Voice quivering, she gave him her address, then huddled against the door.
She was still trembling when he pulled into her driveway twenty minutes later. After shutting off the ignition, he opened her door and carried her up the steps to the narrow porch that fronted the house.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked as he set her on her feet.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again.”
“Take a warm bath. Have a cup of hot tea. It’ll calm you down.”
“I don’t think so.” She paused a moment, then said, “Will you come in for a few minutes? I … I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Sure.” He pulled her bag and keys out of his jacket pocket, then, noting how shaky her hands were, he unlocked the door and followed her inside. He figured she was far too upset to notice the odd vibration in the air when he stepped across the threshold.
Sara quickly turned on a light and shrugged out of her coat, then collapsed on the sofa.
“Can I get you that cup of tea?” he asked. “Or maybe something stronger, if you’ve got it?”
“I think there’s a bottle of wine in the cupboard. Over the sink.”
With a nod, he went into the kitchen. He turned on the light, because she would expect it, found the wine in the cupboard. He filled two glasses and carried them into the living room. After handing her one, he sat in the overstuffed chair across from the sofa.
“Thank you. And thank you for saving me from that … that …” Her voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed. “What was that thing? And how did you happen to be there?”
“It was late,” he said quietly. “I decided to follow you to make sure you got home safely.”
She considered that, then nodded. “You … you stabbed him with a wooden stake.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have a gun.”
“Why did you have a wooden stake?”
Well, damn, he thought, taking a drink of wine to give himself time to fabricate a lie. He should have expected a question like that. He was about to make something up when he decided against it. If she was going to stay in Susandale, she needed to know the truth. Or at least part of it.
Setting his glass aside, he said, “I wasn’t completely honest with you earlier, when I said I was a bounty hunter. The truth is, I used to hunt vampires for a living.”
Eyes wide, she stared at him. “Are you saying that … that thing was a vampire?”
He nodded.
“That’s ridiculous. There’s no such thing.”
“I’m afraid there is.”
“And you hunted them?”
He didn’t miss the skepticism in her tone. On the plus side, it seemed to have chased her fears away. “Yes.” Even though he no longer hunted them, he still kept the tools of his trade in the trunk of his car. He wasn’t sure why. But tonight he’d been damn glad they were there.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then how do you explain the man who attacked you? You saw his eyes and his fangs, same as I did.”
Suddenly chilled, Sara pulled the afghan from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. She would never forget those hell-red eyes or the primal terror that had engulfed her. Hadn’t she known, on some deep, instinctive level, that she was facing something inhuman? But a vampire? How was that even possible? She might have thought someone was playing a horrible joke on her but dying for a laugh seemed unlikely. A vampire. She shuddered. If there was one, were there more? And if so, how many?
“You should get some sleep,” Travis suggested. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
She nodded somewhat doubtfully, certain that sleep would be a long time coming.
Rising, Travis kissed her on the cheek. “Lock up after me.”
“A fat lot of good that will do,” she muttered, remembering how the monster had ripped the door off her Chevy with no trouble at all.
“Vampires can’t enter your home without an invitation.”
She recalled hearing that in some old horror movie but had thought it was just a Hollywood myth, like vampires themselves. A rush of panic engulfed her as Travis headed for the door. “Wait! Would you mind staying with me until I fall asleep?”
“Not at all, if that’s what you want.”
“Maybe you could spend the night? I really don’t want to be alone.”
Nodding, he locked the front door.
“There’s a guestroom …”
“I’ll just crash on the sofa if it’s all right with you. Good night, Sara.”
“Help yourself to a pillow and blankets.” Clutching the afghan with one hand and holding her wine glass in the other, she padded out of the room, the afghan trailing on the floor behind her.
Travis stared after her for a moment, then glanced around the room. It was sparsely furnished. The walls, painted a pale yellow, were bare. The floor was hardwood. A flowered sofa and matching chair faced each
