Читать книгу Dead Sexy - Amanda Ashley - Страница 10

Regan stared at the clock on her bedside table. It was after two in the morning, and she couldn’t sleep. Santiago’s last words repeated in her mind, over and over again.

After tonight, the one who did this will no longer be a threat to your kind, or mine.

The words had been quietly spoken, but she had heard the ominous undertone. There was no doubt in her mind that Santiago would exact the ultimate price from the vampire that had killed the two teenagers. The very thought sent a chill down her spine. There were only a few ways to destroy a vampire. None of them were easy, or pleasant.

With a sigh of exasperation, Regan threw the covers aside and got out of bed. Going into the living room, she turned on the Satellite Screen, then went into the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate. She punched in the code and then hit the marshmallow key three times. A moment later, the computer served up a cup of hot chocolate at exactly the temperature she preferred. Cup in hand, she returned to the living room and curled up on the sofa.

She had no doubt that Santiago had destroyed the killer. She should be glad, but she was so tired of all the killing, all the death. The image of the slain teenagers rose in her mind again. She was glad she wasn’t the one who had to notify the parents, that she didn’t have to see the looks of horror and disbelief on their faces, and that she didn’t have to accompany them to the morgue to identify the bodies. Regan shook her head sadly. No parent should have to bury a child.

It was obvious that Santiago had a soft spot for children. Did he ever lament the fact that he would never be a father, never hold a child of his own in his arms? Never see that child grow and have children of its own?

She pounded her fist on the table. She had to stop thinking about him! He consumed far too many of her thoughts, walked in far too many of her dreams.

Where was he now?

Did he feel remorse for the vampire he had killed? Were vampires even capable of feeling human emotions like remorse or grief?

He felt passion, there was no doubt of that, or of the fact that his very nearness aroused her more than it should have.

She shook her head. She wouldn’t go there. No matter how appealing he might be, he was still a vampire. There could be no future for the two of them. No sane woman would even consider such a thing.

“So maybe I’m crazy,” she muttered, because in spite of everything she knew about Joaquin Santiago, in spite of what she knew he had done tonight, heaven help her, she wanted to see him again.

Feeling restless, Regan threw on her robe and stepped out onto the balcony of her condo. A bright yellow moon played hide-and-seek with a scattering of wispy gray clouds. She heard the faint wail of a siren, the barking of a dog, a baby’s cry. Just the ordinary, everyday sounds of the city.

There was nothing ordinary or mundane about Santiago. What was he doing now? Was he standing on the balcony of his condo, looking at the same moon, hearing the same sounds? Or was he prowling the dark streets in search of sustenance? She lifted a hand to her throat. Did he prefer to prey on women, or was anyone who crossed his path fair game?

Folding her arms on the wooden railing, she stared out at the lights of the city. “Where are you, Joaquin Santiago?”

“Behind you.”

Merciful heavens! Regan’s heart plummeted to her toes as she whirled around, one hand pressed over her thundering heart. As usual, he was a study in black from head to foot.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded furiously. “You scared the crap out of me!” She jabbed her finger into his chest. In spite of her anger, she noticed his body was rock solid. “Don’t you ever sneak up on me like that again!”

He grinned down at her as he captured her hand in his. “I thought you wanted me here.”

Regan stared up at him. How was it possible for the slightest touch of his hand to make her insides turn to mush?

“How do you do that?” she demanded, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.

His thumb made slow, lazy circles on the back of her hand. “Do what?” he asked in that sinfully rich, melodious voice that made her toes curl.

“You know what.” She bit down on her lower lip, hating the breathy sound of her own voice. It was aggravating to think that he could probably hear the frantic beat of her heart, sense that his very nearness aroused her.

“I am not doing anything,” he said, though the heat in his eyes belied his words. He gazed down at her, slowly drawing her closer, closer, until her body was a breath away from his. He looked down at her, waiting for her to make the decision.

Heart pounding, she pressed herself against him, her head falling back, her eyelids fluttering down in anticipation of his kiss.

It was earth-shattering, even more erotic than the phantom kiss they had shared in her dream. His mouth was warm and firm, his tongue like fire as it stroked her own, arousing her, making her think of hot bodies writhing on cool satin sheets. Black sheets. She knew somehow that his sheets would be black…

She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Did he sleep in a bed, or a…?

He looked down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, his arms still holding her close. “Something troubles you?”

“Where do you sleep?”

“Would you like me to show you?” he asked, his tone suddenly soft and seductive.

“No. I mean…do you sleep, that is…”

“Ah. You are not wondering where I sleep but what I sleep on, or in.”

She nodded, her gaze trapped by his.

“What do you think?” he queried. “And why do you ask?”

“I…I…never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“No?”

“I…” She blew out a breath of exasperation. “I just had this mental image of black sheets…”

“Not blood red?” he asked with a wry grin, and then he laughed softly. “You were right. The sheets on my bed are black.”

“Satin?” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Yes. Perhaps I will show them to you one evening.”

“So, you don’t sleep in a coffin?”

“I did not say that.”

The image of Santiago stretched out inside a satin-lined casket cooled her ardor and she backed away from him. Vampire. He was a vampire. She had to remember that. “Did you find the one who killed those kids?”

He nodded.

“How did he get out of the park?”

“The barrier has no power over the ancient ones.”

Regan filed that knowledge away. As soon as she got a chance, she would call the Department of Vampire Control and let them know that not all the vamps in the park were repelled by the barrier.

“Did you destroy him?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes said it all.

Feeling suddenly cold, Regan wrapped her arms around her body.

“I think I should go now and let you get some sleep,” Santiago said. He bowed from the waist in a courtly old-world gesture. “Good night, Regan Delaney.”

“Good night,” she murmured, but he was already gone.