Читать книгу Vampire’s Dilemma - Penny Ash - Страница 5

CURSED BLOOD, by Penny Ash

Prolog: Louisiana 1733

Sheldon Jefferson rammed his shoulder against the boudoir door with a strength born of desperation. It barely shook with the impact. He put all his heart and soul into ramming it again. He felt it give. Backing up he took a deep breath and ran at the door a third time. It burst open tumbling him into the tiny silken suite.

He fell, took a shoulder roll and came up slipping his pistol from his belt. Shel leveled the pistol at the woman who held his niece.

“I told you what would happen if you tried to harm Kitty.” He prepared to fire.

Movement to his side distracted him for a brief second. Isabel emerged from the corner, only the gold locket Shel had given her visible among the shadows. She hurried toward him, warily circling Madeline.

Using the distraction, Madeline threw the skinny child she held directly at Sheldon. He raised the pistol even as he fired, managing to miss the girl. He grabbed Kitty and shoved her behind him where she wouldn’t see the Vampire’s fangs, the feral rage on the beautiful woman’s face as she prepared to feed. The oil lamp on the table made Madeline’s fangs glisten. He began backing toward the door. Sheldon shoved Kitty out into the hall. “Run!” The child’s footsteps echoed from the hall.

“And I told you cherie, love is costly.” With a smile, Madeline plucked a small leather bound book from the table and gestured with it toward the door. The distant footsteps ceased. She tucked it into her reticule as if packing the last item for a long journey.

Shel pulled Isabel close to him and faced Madeline, comparing the two preternaturally beautiful women. “I thought you cared, Isabel. I thought I could trust you.”

Isabel shook her head, her hands to her lips. “She has stolen my book…” Isabel’s whisper went straight through him. She had endangered Kitty for a damned book.

Madeline mused, “Trust is such a fragile thing is it not?” Madeline smiled a parody of sweetness. “Give me the child. Your own free will choice. And you can have Isabel. Or do not and I will kill Isabel. Choose.”

Cold seared Shel’s heart. This was no choice. It was a trap. “I will never let you have Kitty.”

“So be it.” Madeline snapped her fingers. Horror and fury choked him.

A wave of black pain drove Sheldon Jefferson to his knees. His pistol tumbled from cold, numb fingers. What has she done to me? Madeline La Rouge stepped closer. He grabbed the shimmering red silk skirt of her dress. The dress he had bought for Isabel to celebrate her coming back to him.

Madeline threaded her fingers through his hair. “You are beautiful mon amour,” she said, her voice low and sensuous.

“Madeline…” he began. She clenched her fist in his hair and jerked his head back.

“And treacherous.” She brought her lips close to Shel’s. “But not, I think, so treacherous as I.”

“You betrayed me, mon amour.” She lowered her lips to his. “I do not like betrayal.” Madeline kissed Shel and whispered a strange, powerful word, her lips still pressed to his.

He shivered. A wave of bitter nausea swept through him. Shel retched. The heavy silk slid through his nerveless fingers as he doubled over. He toppled to the floor.

Madeline walked away, laughing; the click of her heels on the polished oak floor a painful echo in his ears.

How could he have been so stupid, so blinded by lust? Another wave of pain stole the breath from his lungs. A sound cut through the red fog in his head. Sheldon forced his eyes to focus on the woman now standing beside him. Isabel knelt and took his limp hand, pulling him into her arms.

“Isabel?” Sheldon clutched at her in confusion, the room spinning. “Where is Kitty, must save…?”

“Hush petit amour, she has cursed you.” Isabel’s lips touched his. Heat ripped through him. Burning, metallic, salty fire. With her kiss, Shel’s pain faded.

“Save Kitty…” His own whisper sent stabbing pain through his head. Shel tried to lever himself up only to slump back into her arms. He held onto Isabel, desperate for the contact with her warmth. She pressed him back to lie on the floor.

“You cannot. Madeline has cursed you. She has made you like she, ruled by the need for blood.” Isabel gently loosened his grip on her. She stood.

“No…I’ll kill her…”

“Shh. Non. She is very powerful. I have done what I can to ease the curse. I cannot break it, only when you find true love will that happen. And alas, while le petit mort is très bon with you, I do not love you.” She looked at the door. He followed her gaze. Her servant stood impassive, waiting. “Gervaise will take you to the docks. You must leave this place.”

Shel frowned at Gervaise. Something was wrong. A tiny dark spot at the corner of the servant’s mouth grew, then spilled down over the man’s jaw. A warm thick scent, almost sexual in its intensity, enveloped Shel. Blood. The servant toppled forward onto him. Isabel gasped and shrank back.

Shel touched his fingers to the redness on Gervaise’s skin and brought them to his mouth. The taste ignited a raging fire in Shel. The desire for blood consumed him, forced him to feed.

The rage of his first feeding subsided to reveal Madeline. Candlelight glinted off the bloody silver blade in one hand, Kitty cradled glassy eyed in the curve of her other arm.

As Sheldon watched, paralyzed by the sensations ripping through him, Madeline very slowly, very deliberately, slid her fangs into Kitty’s neck, very erotically, she sucked, one slow teasing swallow after another, Isabel’s red dress flowing sensuously around her. With every move, Sheldon felt a fire rise from his belly.

Kitty’s lifeless body thudded to the carpet beside Gervaise. Shel stood, no longer confused. He gazed at Isabel. He smelled her fear. It excited him. Isabel whirled to run but he caught her easily.

Shel fought the pull every way he could even as he sank his new fangs into Isabel’s smooth, pale neck. He tried to break free of the spell her scent cast over him. It did no good, Shel couldn’t stop, the need in him was far too strong. He barely noticed Madeline watching avidly. But he saw Madeline fingering the little leather book as if it had something to do with his killing the woman he loved.

“Learn this,” whispered Madeline. “I will not be defied.”

Shel sobbed while he drew Isabel’s life force into himself, his tears flowing as freely as her blood.

When it was finished, he held Isabel’s body for a long time. She had defied Madeline to lessen his curse, and he had killed her for it. No, Shel thought, Madeline had killed Isabel. She planned this. She wanted defiance so she could punish it.

It came to him that he was alone in a lady’s boudoir at midnight with three corpses and the stench of death. Or was that the smell of his own ruined honor?

With a moan of despair, Shel gently lowered Isabel to the floor. Light winked off the locket he had given her. Shel touched it, careful not to look at the damage he had done. Somewhere inside Shel knew he’d had no control over his actions. That didn’t make it any easier to bear. Revulsion and guilt swept through Shel. He hated Madeline. He would never forgive her for cursing him to an eternity of this or for this night of horror. Shel knew he would never love again, but most of all Shel knew he would never forgive himself.

Chapter One: Mambo #5

Sheldon Jefferson lay back against the pillows. Ava had put on a sheer red feather trimmed baby doll nighty. Could she look any sluttier? Shel sighed. He missed corsets. And petticoats. She walked toward him with what she called her “strut.” Ava was a mistake. A big one. Her husband was a Helsing and they had very little sense of humor where it concerned Vampires. Still, the danger did lend a little spice to things. He smiled. It was time to disappear.

“I have made only two hundred dollars today. It is not enough.”

“Sergei cut off your allowance again?” He gave her an amused look. Ava ran a permanent sale from her garage in her quest for material wealth.

“He does not understand. I have needs.” She pouted.

“Like what?” Shel waited. Ava expected him to reach for her. He didn’t.

“I want you to kill my husband.” She climbed onto the bed, trying to move over him. Shel caught her arms, guiding her to lie beside him. No woman ever put him in a vulnerable position. Not in well over two centuries.

Yes, a huge mistake. Definitely time to leave. “Now why would I want to do that?” He pushed Ava down and straddled her. He let the need rise up inside.

“I’ll marry you,” she said.

“What for?” He forced one knee between her legs, pushing them apart.

“We could be together all the time.” She tried to arch herself toward him.

“I don’t think so.” That’s a horrific thought. Shel caught her hands and pinned them over her head. He leaned closer and touched his teeth to her neck. Ava arched toward him. He pulled away, smiling at her frustrated moan.

“He is a pig. Kill him,” she whined.

Shel gave her a nip and grinned at her gasp. She glared at him. “No,” he said.

“Yes!” Ava tried to pout again. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Shel rested his full weight on her.

“Why?” Shel asked, getting ready to bite.

“You love me.” Ava clenched her hands and gasped again as Shel pricked the skin over her jugular vein.

“No.” He began to move in slow strokes.

“Yes!” She tried to urge him faster.

“But I don’t love you.”

“Pig!”

“Shut up,” Shel sank his fangs into her. The need pushed away any other thought. Ava’s warm blood was the only thing that mattered. Well, that and getting one over on Sergei Romanov. Damn Helsing. Ava wailed as her orgasm hit her. He took enough to dull the edge and quiet the hunger. She went limp beneath him. Shel licked the tiny puncture wounds, sealing them with his saliva.

Chapter Two: Blue Moon

Lucy Adams stopped at the end of the dock. There should be a charter company somewhere around. She squinted in the glare. A small sign hanging from the eaves of a scruffy building a few yards away read Bait and Switch Charters. Just like the Russian woman said. A man sat on the rail of the beach shack’s tiny porch. Overdressed in his faded, ripped jeans and open white cotton shirt, he seemed more sexual than all the scantily clad beach-goers combined.

She caught herself licking her lips. To cover it Lucy opened her mouth to ask about the charter boat excursions advertised on the old chalkboard. Before she could say a word, the man slowly turned his attention from the activity down the docks and focused on her. His sightless stare his sunglasses gave him made her stomach flutter and her breath catch. She would have paid money just to see the eyes behind those dark sunglasses. This man had an air of danger about him, but she could not imagine why she perceived him that way.

* * * *

Shel saw the woman headed his way long before she saw him. He’d seen her before at Ava’s house. He remembered the tacky tourist bag she carried and the haunted look about her eyes. A gust of wind caught the skirt of her dress. Her long legs looked strong. With a faint shiver, he sniffed the air. She smelled of brown sugar, vanilla, and the tang of pink grapefruit. His mouth watered. Shel did not often take a blonde-haired woman. They reminded him too much of his past. This one had an air about her though, and he was hungry. He pushed his memories out of his thoughts with the ease of long practice.

* * * *

Lucy looked back at the man for a long moment. Why not? Wasn’t that the whole point of a vacation? To have a little adventure and forget my grief? She pushed away the images that thought conjured up. Besides, the woman was right, this man is eye candy. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Lucy Adams. Are you free?”

He swung one long jeans-clad leg over the railing and slowly stood. He looked at her for a long moment. Then the corner of his perfect Cupid’s bow lips curved upward in a faint smile. “We can discuss it inside. There’s a chair. It’s cooler, too,” he said as he opened the door and held it. He inclined his head toward the dark interior.

Lucy took a deep breath, walking up the two rickety steps and into the shop. As she passed him the warm scent of sandalwood and male musk brushed against her like a caress. Her knees went weak. The sound of him firmly pulling the door shut made her toes tingle.

* * * *

Shel took a deep breath as Lucy passed. He exhaled softly, then shut the door before he hurried around Lucy to pull out the plastic chair he kept for clients. There was something very familiar about her. His stomach fluttered like an inexperienced schoolboy’s.

She sat. The cotton fabric of the dress molded itself around her hips and Shel nearly lost it. For an instant, he was back in New Orleans and the past. A tiny thrill of fear ran through Shel. He shook it off. “Would you like something to drink?” I’d like to drink you.

“Thank you, a diet soda would be nice.” Lucy’s eyes met his. Shel went liquid inside. Isabel looked out of those green eyes at him.

“I’ll be right back.” He stepped into the back room where he kept the charter supplies. He took a drink out and headed back to the woman. Shel caught a glimpse of his reflection in the oven door as he opened the refrigerator. Rolling his eyes at himself, Shel carried the drinks back into the front room. She’s not Isabel, you idiot.

Her fingers brushed his as she took the drink. The shockwave rocked Shel all the way to his toes. Their gaze locked. He fell into the warm green depths of her eyes. Her lips parted in a soft gasp. Shel found himself moving closer, leaning in to kiss her.

The phone behind the counter rang. Shel cursed silently. He never should have given Alex Bell the idea for the damn thing. “Hold that thought,” Shel said as he went around to answer the call.

* * * *

Lucy stood up. She pressed a hand to her face, feeling the heat of her blush. What just happened? Her entire body tingled. To cover her confusion Lucy wandered around the shop pretending to be interested in the fishing poles and tackle. She bypassed the bait cooler in favor of the only two things hanging on the walls. The man’s voice was a soft black velvet murmur in the background. The sound made her dizzy but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. Lucy focused on Miss February with her sculpted silicone enhanced nude body and the business license made out to the Bait and Switch Charter Boat Company. She read the name, Sheldon J. Jefferson, owner.

Shel hung up and unplugged the phone line. He watched Lucy wander around the shop for a moment. The way she pulled at him was almost painful. She grimaced at the bait. He chuckled to himself softly, and then cringed when Lucy stopped in front of the porn calendar. He headed toward the door. Shel turned the open sign over so that the closed side faced the parking lot. Maybe he could convince Lucy to spend the evening on the boat. She probably tasted wonderful.

* * * *

“Sheldon?” Lucy raised her eyebrows, looking from the license to the man who was snapping the bolt home on the door beside of her. A small shiver of alarm settled in her stomach.

“Blame my parents.” He smiled. She couldn’t look away. Shel tilted his head slightly. His eyes began to drift shut as he leaned closer. Lucy fought down the urge to giggle. She was not ready for this. This stranger was going to kiss her. And I’m going to let him.

Closing her eyes, Lucy gave in, powerless to stop it. The window beside her shattered. The popping that followed made her jump. She turned toward the broken window. “What…”

Shel grabbed Lucy’s arm, dragging her away from the window. “Someone is shooting at us,” he said. Their eyes met again.

The rattling of the locked front door snapped Shel out of his trance. Lucy was still dazed. “Come on.” He pulled her along, through the back room and out the back door. Behind them, someone kicked in the front door. Shel pulled her behind a nearby palm tree and carefully peeked around.

“Shit. We need to get to the boat.”

“But I can’t,” Lucy squeaked.

Shel gave her an impatient glance. Another spray of bullets kicked up the dirt around the tree. “Yes you can, sweetheart.” He circled Lucy’s waist with his arm forcing her along with him. They ran.

She hesitated when she saw the small boat he headed for. Dammit, we don’t have time for this. “Jump!” Shel gave her a running shove and practically threw Lucy across the gap into the boat before he followed her.

He landed next to Lucy and started the outboard motor.

“Were they trying to kill me? Or you?” Shel tried to think of who could be after him as he steered around the other boats.

Lucy remained silent. Something in her eyes told him she thought the bullets were for her.

Interesting. He let it drop for the moment.

Lucy sat watching him with huge, frightened eyes. Shel tied the little motorboat to the mooring at the back of the old yacht he called home. Without a word, Shel helped her on board. He followed and caught a glimpse of her face. Lucy’s expression, a combination of interest, excitement, and fear, knocked the breath right out of him. Dammit, she could be Isabel’s twin.

To cover his confusion Shel turned Lucy toward the door that led to the main cabin of the yacht. “The salon. We need to talk.” motioned her into the small, comfortable room.

Lucy walked into the cozy little living room.

“Sit,” he said. She did, staring up at him with an expression of guilt. Shel glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. If he kept them crossed just maybe he wouldn’t strangle her. “Now, let’s start with who wants to kill you.” Lucy looked pale and seasick.

Lucy looked at him wide-eyed. She swallowed hard and looked away. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Shel repeated, with a trace of disbelief in his voice. “Is there a reason someone would want to kill you?”

“Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. At least not…” She refused to look at him.

“Do go on,” Shel said with deep sarcasm. “I’m enthralled.”

“Everything was fine until I bought some things from a nice lady at a garage sale.”

Shel shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t believe in coincidence. “And this is why someone wants to kill you? What the hell did you buy?”

“Just some little trinkets from Russia,” Lucy said quietly. She looked directly at him. Shel’s breath caught. “I think they want the doll.”

“Who are they and why do you think they want this doll?” Shel asked, knowing he was going to have to pull the information out of her in bits and pieces. With a frown, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He should just bite her. He’d know everything then. But he couldn’t, not until he figured out why he kept seeing Isabel in her.

“You’ll think I’m crazy,” Lucy answered in a whisper.

Shel pinched the bridge of his nose, mentally counting to 10. “I won’t think you’re crazy. Why do they, whoever they are, want this doll?”

“The Werewolves. I think it holds some sort of magic amulet or something. I think it’s something the Werewolves here want.” Lucy said it as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

Everything stopped. Even his heart. Shel stared at her for several seconds too long. Lucy blushed. “I knew it. You think I’m crazy.” She sighed heavily and lowered her eyes to stare at the floor.

Shel shook his head. “And they would be the Werewolves after you.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing. Tell me again how you got mixed up in this?” It can’t be this easy.

“I went to a garage sale. I thought it would be fun.” She began telling him one more time about buying the curious old matryoshka doll and chatting with the woman selling it. “So I asked about charters…”

“And she gave you my name.” Shel grimaced.

Lucy nodded.

“Shit. I…” Shel trailed off as the satellite phone beeped with an incoming call. He grabbed the phone. “Yeah?”

“Sheldon Jefferson?” asked a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone.

“Yes?” Shel asked, recognizing the voice despite the distortion. Sergei must have leaned on Ava to get his phone number.

“You have something that belongs to me. I want it back.”

Shel stiffened, instantly on alert. “Oh really? And what might that be?”

“I think you know,” Sergei said in a deceptively soft voice.

“Enlighten me anyway, comrade.” Shel looked at Lucy. This was absolutely insane.

“Insults will get you nothing. But I will be generous and offer you one hundred thousand US dollars for the return of my property.”

“Pricey, comrade, makes me wonder what this property is.”

“A memento you understand, sentimental. I am very attached to it.”

“Oh, of course,” Shel said. “I’m even more curious now.”

“If it should be damaged, I will kill you.” Sergei dropped all pretense of politeness.

Shel drew a deep drag from his cigarette, “You can try,” he said, amused.

“When I find you, you are a dead man, Jefferson.”

“Or I could drink your blood,” Shel said in a cheerful voice. He smiled at Lucy’s wide-eyed stare and hung up the phone, tossing it into the little bin beside the wheel. “You’ve probably guessed that was our friend Sergei. The husband of your nice Russian lady, Ava.”

“How did… You know him?” Lucy looked a little pale.

“I know, correction, knew his wife Ava. We were on, um, intimate terms. I imagine Ava’s husband tortured my phone number out of her before he killed her.” Shel smiled at Lucy’s look of horror. “You didn’t think this was a game did you, sugar?”

“She’s dead?” Lucy sounded as if she’d lost a bit more of her innocence than she’d planned. Her green eyes held a haunted expression of old grief renewed. That puzzled him.

Shel regretted his flippant attitude, sometimes he forgot not everyone held the same casual attitude toward life his kind did. The troubled expression on Lucy’s face gave him a sharp twinge of guilt. Of course she was scared, Sergei had people after her.

Before he realized it, Shel knelt in front of Lucy and took her hands. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She nodded.

“You can stay in my cabin tonight.” Shel looked Lucy over. “I probably have something you can borrow to sleep in. I’ll show you which cabin and where my extra t-shirts and things are if you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Lucy’s voice was still a pale shadow of the brightness it had been earlier.

Shel gave a mental shrug and motioned toward the end of the passage. “Tomorrow I’ll go ashore and do some checking. You’ll be safe here. I’ll bring back your things.” He left her there, giving her what privacy he could on the small boat.

Shel shut the door and silently slipped back to the salon. When he got there, he pushed the idea of her asleep in his cabin out of his mind. He didn’t want to examine the feelings that conjured up too closely. Shel went to the small couch. He’d sleep there. If he slept.

Shel reached for Lucy’s bag, a tacky straw tourist job with Miami embroidered on the side. He set it on the galley table. It tipped over and the usual stuff women carried spilled out, along with a small wallet.

He put everything back in. The wallet held something hard. Shel turned the wallet over in his hands a few times before opening it. It was simple curiosity that made him look at the contents, a desire to know something more about this woman who made him feel things he hadn’t experienced in centuries.

Shel opened the wallet. His stomach fell into his boots. A smiling Lucy looked back at him from the small photo. He felt sick. The man behind her was a tall impeccably groomed businessman. He appeared to be the sort of man that had always set Shel’s teeth on edge. She leaned into the man and hugged the laughing toddler close.

He took a sudden deep breath remembering to breathe, and pulled out the bit of paper that peeked out from behind the photo. Newspaper. Shel carefully unfolded it choosing to ignore the fact that his hands shook and he was totally numb. He read the date and the words in the obituary three times before they sank in.

Shel bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. That explains the sadness in her. His heart hurt. The sight of the child brought back painful memories. Shel didn’t need to look at the objects but he did anyway dropping the two gold rings into his hand. After a long moment Shel slipped the rings back in their place and quietly put the wallet back in the bag.

Shel went to the galley pantry. He took a bottle of whiskey out along with a glass and poured a drink. After the third shot he headed up on deck. It would be a long time before he slept.

Chapter Three: I’ve Got A Flair

Shel tied the dinghy up at the dock and headed for the charter shack. He didn’t expect to find much but maybe their pursuers hadn’t found the hiding spot where he kept his emergency money. Shel had learned long ago the wisdom of having several stashes of money in case things went to hell. It was beginning to look like it might be sooner than he’d planned.

Inside he surveyed the destruction. Sergei’s goons had done a thorough job, right down to emptying the bait coolers. The stench of spoiled shrimp and dead fish made Shel gag. He kicked debris away from the wall and knelt beside the file cabinet. The baseboard came loose with a little effort. He pulled the trim away revealing the small hollow area it hid. Shel quickly transferred the neatly wrapped packet of hundred dollar bills to his jacket pocket. Habit made him replace the baseboard.

The noise of footsteps on the wooden porch alerted him to the arrival of someone. He stood quickly. The front door opened. Shel gave a mental curse as a familiar figure stepped into the room. He pulled out a strong brown Turkish cigarette and lit it, waiting for the man to speak.

James DeLong, private investigator and part time Werewolf, held a lurid crime scene photo out for Shel to look at. “Ava Romanov was pulled out of the surf two days ago. What was left of her anyway. Sergei Romanov has been following this woman.” DeLong held out another photo, Lucy standing at a table filled with junk. The garage sale. Shel cringed inside. How long had the mutt been watching the place? “We think she may know something about it. Last time anyone saw her, she was entering your charter business.” DeLong waved his hand to indicate the mess.

Shel drew a deep drag from the cigarette he was smoking. He squinted as the smoke burned his eyes but didn’t take his gaze away from the photo of Lucy. “What makes you think I saw her, Werewolf?”

DeLong shrugged, “A pretty woman comes into your business and you don’t notice? Get real. You have seen her haven’t you?”

Shel kept his voice steady despite the fact his heart beat double time. “What if I have?”

“We’d really like to talk to her.”

Shel snorted. I bet you would. “Doesn’t look like she’d be hard for you to track, DeLong. You lose your sense of smell?”

Delong gave him a dirty look. “Always the smart ass.”

“It’s a talent. What is this all about?” Shel ignored Delong’s grin.

“We think she has something of ours and we want it back. That simple.” Delong said.

Shel shook his head. “Oh yeah? Well if I see her around here I’ll let you know” Lucy… The thought of her anywhere near angry Werewolves made him nauseous.

“Shel…”

“Gotta run pooch, busy, busy you know,” Shel said. He stalked out, heading for the parking lot. He ignored DeLong shouting at him.

At his car, Shel stopped for a moment, thinking back to the beginning. He didn’t dare let himself hope but he knew it was useless to fight it. Lucy had already gotten to him. Shel got into the car and started it, his mind filled with memories of all the times he’d let himself believe he’d found the one to break the curse.

* * * *

Lucy sat down on the bunk, hugging the pillow to her. She buried her face in it. It smelled like the man who had turned everything upside down. Deep inside she’d always dreamed of meeting someone like him. Sheldon Jefferson had an aura of goodness about him. He might be rough around the edges but Lucy sensed a solid core of decency in him. Shel couldn’t have any idea what he did to her, the need she already felt for him. They’d known each other a little more than a day and he’d already taken up residence in Lucy’s heart.

Nothing in Lucy’s life had prepared her for the things she felt when Shel looked at her. It was as if he was the missing half of her soul. The physical desire that rocked Lucy made what she’d felt for Keith pale in comparison. The guilt was almost more than she could bear.

If only she could get away. Lucy wasn’t at all sure she was ready for this, but where could she go with people trying to kill them? Lucy put the pillow down and stood. She needed to do something, to move. Lucy made her way into the salon.

* * * *

Shel parked across the street from the hotel where Lucy was registered. People streamed in and out. It appeared to be a typical tourist hotel, nothing suspicious caught his attention. Might as well get this over with. He got out of the car and headed inside.

No one so much as glanced in his direction in the crowded lobby. Once he arrived on the eighth floor, Lucy had said her room number was 817, he waited until the hall was clear then quickly went to the door. He swiped the key card Lucy had given him and carefully stepped inside.

The room was thoroughly trashed. If the doll had been there, it wasn’t now. He picked up an old-fashioned white nightgown lying on the floor. He looked it over. It suited Lucy with its silk and lace and the fussy tiny pearl buttons. He brought it closer, inhaling deeply. Vanilla and flowers. A vision of her in the gown formed in his head. Shel’s mouth went dry.

He swore softly. Lucy’s clothes were everywhere, even hanging off the mirror. Shel gazed at the pink lace push up bra that dangled from the light fixture for a long moment. He couldn’t decide which was scarier; the fact that he knew it was a push up bra or the fact that the sight of it gave him a raging boner. Reaching out, Shel lifted it off the lampshade and snickered, helpless to stop it. Even as a Vampire, he was still a man first.

He took a deep breath and got himself under control. Well, time to get moving. After a quick glance around, Shel picked up the battered suitcase and began stuffing clothes into it. When he had everything, he did one last sweep of the room and left. On the way to the elevator, it dawned on him where the doll would be. Shel smiled.

* * * *

Shel heard the music a good hundred yards out from the yacht. Lucy had discovered the radio. Angry, he tied up and climbed aboard. Anyone could have come out there and been on Lucy before she knew what hit her. Shel stormed forward to where he sensed her. His anger died. Lucy stood in the middle of the deck in the sun, barefoot, dressed in a wrinkled sundress, swaying to the music. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The need stirred inside him.

He slapped the radio off. “Come on, sugar, let’s go inside. We have things to discuss.” Shel turned and walked out before he gave in to the need and took her. Lucy deserved better.

He heard her following and waved at the salon’s built in couch. “Why don’t you sit down, we can discuss this doll. And your Werewolves.”

She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. If the situation weren’t so serious, the look on Lucy’s face would have been hysterical. “Yes, I said Werewolves.”

“You believe me. Why?”

“Why would I not?” Shel turned the question back on her. She made no move to sit.

“Okay, come on,” He stood and took Lucy’s hands, urging her into the chair. “I think it’s time we had a look at this doll Sergei is willing to kill for. Tell me where it is.”

With a deep sigh, Lucy reached for her purse. She began taking things out until the purse was empty. Shel’s eyebrows rose. He’d just seen everything in that bag the night before and there had been no doll in it. She gave the lining a tug and pulled it part way out then reached in and withdrew an object that reminded him of a short squat bowling pin.

He resisted the urge to chuckle. She was a piece of work. Lucy held the doll out. Shel took it. The painted smiling face of a Russian woman in traditional peasant dress looked at him. It was heavier than it appeared.

“It opens.” Lucy’s voice startled him. Something was different about her. Shel looked up, meeting her clear, untroubled gaze. His mouth went dry.

Hurriedly, Shel put his attention on the doll once more. “How?”

“You twist it. There will be other dolls inside, usually five.”

Shel tilted the doll to get a better grip. It rattled. He raised his eyebrows at Lucy in question.

“I only opened the first one. I got nervous.” Fascinated Shel watched her blush, embarrassed.

“Ah. Well, let’s see what else is inside.” He twisted the doll open.

By the time they got to what he hoped was the last doll Shel was way past irritated. He started to open the smallest doll. Lucy put her hand on his and stopped him. Shel waited.

“Be careful.”

He nodded. Slowly Shel pulled the little doll apart. They stared at the contents for a full minute trying to process what they were seeing. The plain brass key with its plastic tag lay there glinting dully in the light.

He took a deep breath and the scent of Lucy’s blood, her life, made him dizzy for a moment. The need clawed at his insides. Shel squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard, trying to get control of himself. The desire faded after a few seconds, replaced by relief. “We need to make port and pick up some supplies,”

Shel placed the key into her hands, closing his fingers over hers. “Hold onto this, we’ll talk more later.” The breathless quality Shel heard in his voice shocked him. Then he turned and hurried up on deck. The fresh air would do him good and he wouldn’t be able to smell Lucy’s blood or hear it rushing through her veins. He threw himself into the captain’s chair with a curse.

Chapter Four: Incense And Peppermints

Lucy toyed with the locket she wore as she watched Shel sitting in the captain’s chair. He had a way of draping himself wherever he sat, a boneless grace and economy of movement, that sent her thoughts in a direction Lucy wasn’t sure she was ready for. Her stomach clenched and a wild sense of anticipation made her lick her lips.

Shel eased the throttle back in a gentle caressing move of his hand. The boat slowed to a stop beside the pier. He stood and went to the rail, tossing a rope over to tie up with. Lucy shivered and the image of Shel’s hands on her body jumped unbidden into her thoughts. “It should be safe enough in port.” He turned and smiled at her. “I’ve made a few calls and Sergei is still looking for us in Miami.”

Amused, Shel turned back to watch the man on the dock drawing closer. DeLong walked like he thought the water was going to reach out and grab him. Lucy walked up beside him. Shel glanced at her. Lucy nodded toward the approaching Werewolf. “Who is that?”

“James DeLong.” Shel waved at the approaching man.

“Who is he?”

Shel smiled at Lucy. “You’re about to meet your first Werewolf, sugar.” Her eyes got wide and she turned to stare at DeLong who was just coming up the gangplank. Lucy edged back behind him. Shel’s heart gave a lurch. She’d probably have strong hysterics if she knew what I am.

DeLong looked around with distaste. “Don’t you ever wash this boat, Jefferson? Smells like week old dead fish.”

“Manners, Fido. Lucy, this is James DeLong.” Shel caught Lucy’s hand and tugged her from behind him.

“My apologies.” DeLong nodded to Lucy.

“James is a private investigator, sugar.”

“You said he was a Werewolf.”

“He is. You could say he has a nose for the business.” Shel grinned. He reached over and brushed his fingers over Lucy’s back. Her stomach fluttered and clenched.

“You’re hilarious, leech. Why did you call me out here?”

“I want to know what’s going on. And since you owe me a few favors I thought I’d call one in and let you explain.”

“You need to come in off the water more often.” DeLong scowled at Shel.

“I think I’ll go below and…dust or, um, something,” Lucy said in an over loud voice. Something was odd about their exchange, Lucy could feel it. She didn’t think she wanted to hear anymore. If she listened things might change her beyond what she could bear. Lucy all but ran for the steps leading down into the salon.

Ahead Lucy saw the door to the tiny bathroom and hurried in, locking the door behind her. She looked at herself in the mirror over the sink, at the accusation in her eyes and the tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks. Covering her face with her hands, Lucy sat down on the closed toilet and sobbed. How could she have these feelings for a man she barely knew? It had to be a reaction to everything that’s happening Lucy rationalized. But that didn’t stop the tears.

* * * *

When Lucy disappeared, DeLong shot him a glare. “Real cute outing me like that. She might have believed you.”

“I’m sure she did. She came to me with a story about Werewolves chasing her. Now what the hell is going on?”

DeLong looked embarrassed. “Sergei has managed to find where Zeke hid the Book of Power. You know what would happen if he got the book. Or someone like Madeline got hold of it.” They both shivered.

“But why chase Lucy?”

“We weren’t chasing her.”

“You had her picture.”

“We have a lot of pictures. Some pretty interesting ones of you and the Helsing’s crazy assed wife, too. We’ve been watching his place since we found out he had the key to the book. Or he did until scary Ava sold it at one of her garage sales.”

“If the Pack wasn’t chasing Lucy, then who shot up my place and trashed her hotel room?” It came to Shel even as he asked.

“Madeline,” they both said.

“Wonderful.” Shel rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me where Zeke hid the damn thing?”

“Don’t see that it matters, there aren’t any descendants of Isabel’s still living to actually use the thing. Zeke put it in a locker at the Miami bus station.”

“You’re kidding me. The Miami bus station? That’s crazy.”

“What can I say? Zeke was more than a little senile.”

They spoke for a few more minutes and DeLong left. Shel knew he’d report their conversation to the Pack leaders. He wasn’t worried. They knew he had no love for Madeline and very little use for the current Helsing. As far as they knew, Lucy was just a girl who stopped at a garage sale and had nothing.

Shel stood and stared after DeLong for several seconds, then headed after Lucy. He had meant to tell Lucy she looked pretty in her simple white dress.

She wasn’t in the salon and the cabins were empty. Shel stopped at the door of the head, putting his ear to the door, listening. He could smell her tears. He couldn’t hear anything but that could just mean she cried quiet. “Are we all right in there? Haven’t fallen in or anything have we?” Shel called to her. No answer.

With a sigh, Shel pulled his penknife out of his pocket. He flicked it open. Shel inserted the narrow blade into the lock, giving it a twist. The lock popped open. He closed the knife and slid the door back. When Lucy looked up at him, her eyes were puffy and red.

Shel opened his mouth to try to reassure Lucy but the shine of gold drew his eyes down to her chest. His words died unsaid. Unable to breathe, Shel stared at the gold locket lying against her breasts, nestled at the top of Lucy’s cleavage.

For a long painful moment, he was back where it all began, in Isabel’s dressing room. He fastened the necklace and bent to kiss the nape of Isabel’s neck. He forced the memory back into the darkness of his past. “Where did you get that?”

Lucy looked down and brushed her fingers over the ornate gold locket. “This? It’s been in my family for years. It belonged to my Great-grandmother Isabel. I’m named for her. Isabel is my middle name. Mama gave it to me just before she died when I was seventeen.”

Sheldon squeezed his eyes shut, placing a hand over his mouth. The pain in his heart threatened to overwhelm him. DeLong had been wrong, there was a descendant and he’d bet Lucy would be able to open the book with no trouble at all. Isabel’s laugh came to him as if she stood in the room with them.

“I used to make up stories about the pictures inside when I was a little girl. It has an inscription. I think it’s French. I always meant to have it translated.”

His eyes flew open. He glared at her. Lucy had a soft, sad smile on her face as she lifted the locket.

“Mon amour impérissable. It means my undying love.” Shel looked away from her to stare at himself in the mirror.

“How did you know…?”

“Open it.”

Shel listened to the quiet soft sounds of Lucy taking the locket off. He turned to face her at the small gasp when she opened it. Lucy stared at the miniature portraits. Slowly she raised her eyes to look at him.

“You have her eyes. I had the locket made in the spring of 1733. We were lovers.”

“How…”

“I had the miniature of myself painted on a trip to Paris. I had the locket made in New Orleans to fit the miniature of my lover Isabel Devereaux.” He smiled wryly at the memory. “I gave it to her a few days before everything fell apart.”

Lucy sat down on the bed. Shel hated the stunned look on Lucy’s face, the bright glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. He’d hoped never to have to tell her what he really was. Shel knelt, taking her hands in his. “Lucy…”

“You’re a Vampire. That’s why you believed me about the Werewolves.”

“I…Yes. I was a fool. Isabel had another admirer. When I found out, I thought I’d make her jealous and it worked for a while. She did not like me seeing her rival, Madeline La Rouge. When Isabel came back to me, I broke off with Madeline. Madeline did not take it well. When Madeline made me a Vampire, Isabel eased the curse as best she could. I…left. I never saw her again.”

Lucy was silent. She lowered her gaze. Shel waited while she thought it through. His heart gave a painful squeeze when Lucy pulled her hands away. She looked him in the eye. “Have you bitten me?”

Of all the things Lucy might have said that was the last Shel imagined. “No.”

She nodded and put the locket back on. Shel left the rest of the information about the book and her ancestry for later. Telling Lucy her grandmother had been a Werewolf could wait. It seemed Lucy had enough to deal with at the moment without that.

“Things will get better. I won’t let you get hurt,” Shel said. She can interpret that any way she chooses and she’ll be right. Lucy’s silence worried him. Shel wasn’t quite sure why but he cared deeply what she thought of him.

“Why should you care?” Lucy asked. The look in her eyes told Shel she understood he didn’t mean the problem with whoever had tried to kill them.

“I don’t know.” He had to be honest with her, “I guess it just feels right to care.”

They were silent for a long moment and the quiet was oddly comfortable. Shel held his hand out toward her at last. Lucy put her hand in his. He had the feeling she had put more than that in his hand. “Come on, let’s go ashore and see about supper.”

* * * *

Shel scanned the crowd in the bar until he saw the one he would take. Normally he would find someone attractive and initiate a relationship. Over the course of a few weeks, he would take a little each time they had sex, until the need subsided to a manageable ache, then he would move on. The incident on the yacht had shown Shel he no longer had that luxury. Tonight Shel would do something he hadn’t done since he learned to control his urges. Tonight Shel would kill.

They shared a glance, a smile of understanding, she wanted what he had to give and they left the bar. Shel walked with the woman toward an alleyway and the darkness.

He staggered a little, drunk on the life force coursing through him. When he’d learned to control the need, he’d made a vow never to kill. Shame that the vow lay broken along with his victim in the trash littering the alley warred with the cold relief that he wouldn’t hurt Lucy now. Bile rose in Shel’s throat along with a hatred of himself and what Madeline La Rouge had made him. He caught hold of the stop sign pole, leaned over and retched, ignoring the tourists that streamed around him.

* * * *

It was dark outside. Lucy stirred her diet soda with the straw. She watched the people stroll along the street while she waited for Shel. He had disappeared nearly an hour earlier. She was beginning to get worried. A movement caught Lucy’s eye, the crowd parted, avoiding a man doubled over like he was in pain. He seemed familiar. The lights of a passing car swept over him and Lucy froze for a painful heartbeat. Then she was out of her seat and running for the door.

She pushed through the knot of gawkers and caught Shel’s arm. He looked at her for several seconds with a blank expression before recognition brightened his dark eyes.

“Come on, lean on me,” Lucy said, pulling Shel close and sliding her arm around his waist. The sudden sound of a woman’s malicious laughter made her look up. Lucy scanned the few people still close by for the one who laughed. A woman dressed in red smiled at her. A shiver ran down Lucy’s spine like a panicked spider.

The woman waved as if she knew Shel. Lucy couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Shel groaned and retched again. Lucy dismissed the notion, her innate compassion taking over. She turned all her attention to Shel, pushing her concerns about the strange woman out of her mind, Lucy concentrated on getting him back to the boat.

Chapter Five: Perfidia

Shel levered himself out of the captain’s chair, his head felt like it was coming off. He had forgotten this part of letting go when he fed. He needed some aspirin. Movement on the dock caught his eye. Shel stopped at the entrance to the salon and watched the two men approach the yacht. Shel heard Lucy coming. He crossed his arms and leaned in the door opening to the salon, blocking the men’s view down into the yacht. Shel waited for them to state their purpose there.

“Mr. Jefferson?” The tall blonde one asked.

“Who wants to know?” Shel was not in the mood for prying questions.

“I’m Davis, and this is Wilson. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Lucy Adams,” Blondie, Davis, said.

If these two weren’t Madeline’s spawn, he’d turn in his official Captain Obvious decoder ring. Shel gave a mental sigh, he missed the old serials. Unlike most of his kind, Shel had accepted modern advances wholeheartedly.

“Who?” Sheldon reached back and caught the doorknob. He pulled it closed behind him, shutting it practically in Lucy’s face. Sorry sugar, you don’t want to meet these two. He would apologize later.

“May we come aboard and discuss this?” The one called Wilson moved toward the gangplank.

Shel waited until the man was about to step onto the short ramp that would let him on board. “No.” The man froze, one foot in the air. Thought so. The man was a Vampire. He couldn’t come onto the boat without permission. Madeline wouldn’t be far off either, probably in a car in the parking lot.

“Madeline is not pleased with your meddling in her affairs.” Davis made no move to help his friend.

“And this means what to me?”

“The girl has something Madeline wants. Give her to us and Madeline will let you live.”

“Tell Madeline I don’t trade in people’s lives.”

“We’ll be back. You can’t hide.” Davis yanked Wilson away from the gangplank. The two men walked down the dock toward the marina buildings and parking lot. Shel swore softly. They were going to have to find somewhere else to tie up.

Shel opened the door just as the phone rang. Lucy reached for it. Shit! He stumbled and tripped down the few steps into the salon, falling to his knees. Clambering up Shel held his hand out for the phone.

Lucy held out the phone and listened to him answer it. Shel tried to catch her hand but she slipped out of reach.

“Hello?” He frowned. Lucy walked away.

“Hello, mon amour. You were not very polite to my friends.” Madeline’s voice was as silky sweet as ever, like a drop of poison laced sugar syrup.

“When did you ever have friends?” Shel fought the urge to gag.

* * * *

In the little cabin, Lucy listened to Shel talking to the woman on the phone. She couldn’t quite make out what Shel was saying but the tone was plain to her. The woman was obviously a lover.

Lucy imagined Shel saying soft words to this anonymous woman, things she wanted to hear him say to her. The picture of Shel with this strange woman was intolerable but she didn’t know what to do about it.

Lucy didn’t have much experience, she’d only been with her husband and he’d never been very adventurous. She imagined Shel would be far more sophisticated, he probably did the sort of things she’d only read about every night. How could Lucy compete with the kind of women he was used to? With someone like the woman in red she’d seen the night before?

Shel laughed, and to her ears it was the sound of a challenge being given. Suddenly Lucy knew what she had to do. Quietly Lucy took off her clothes. She climbed into bed and waited.

* * * *

Shel hung up and grimaced. He put the phone back in the charger and hurriedly looked around for Lucy. He didn’t want to tell Lucy about Madeline but she needed to know. She was even more special now that he knew Lucy was one of Isabel’s descendants. That little bit of knowledge had to be kept from Madeline at all costs.

“Lucy!” He called out, trying to locate her.

“In here.” Lucy’s muffled voice came from his cabin. Shel frowned. What is she doing in there? He wished he could make Lucy forget her past. Walking into the small room, Shel froze. Lucy was leaning against a pile of pillows with the sheet pooled around her waist.

“Lu…Lucy?” His mouth was dry.

Lucy had on the nightgown Shel had admired in the hotel room. The sunbeams coming through the tiny porthole window caressed Lucy’s pale hair, gilding it with gold sparks and turning the thin silk of her gown almost transparent.

This is a bad idea. Dangerous. I’ve got to get out of here. The need curled in his belly. “We need to leave.” Shel turned, ignoring Lucy’s puzzled hurt expression, and all but ran back up on deck. She had gotten much too comfortable with him.

Chapter Six: Fever

Shel stood in the cabin doorway watching Lucy sleep. He knew he shouldn’t be there. The chance of the need breaking free was too great. He didn’t want to do that to her. The warm musky scent of Lucy’s skin filled Shel’s head, making him dizzy. Suddenly the need rose up in him stronger than he’d ever experienced. Shel’s mouth opened and he braced himself above her, poised to bite, to let his fangs sink into her and taste the hot rush of her salty sweet blood… Lucy made a soft sound and shifted.

“Shel?” she asked in a sleep thick voice. He froze, the spell her scent cast over him broken.

“Shh, go back to sleep, sugar,” Shel whispered. Lucy made a soft sound and turned away from him, onto her side.

It took everything he had to walk away. More rattled than he cared to admit Shel headed for the deck and the fresh sea air. That should not have happened, not after a full feeding. He shivered as a chill swept through him. Shel stepped out onto the deck and took a deep breath. He would have to be damned careful around Lucy.

He went to the captain’s console and checked the readouts. Batteries were charged and the water and gas tanks were full, they could leave any time. He stepped out onto the dock and began unhooking the lines that tied the yacht.

Working took his mind off the conflict in his heart. Shel went back to the wheel and started the engines, easing the boat away from the dock. Shel didn’t want to stay away from Lucy but he didn’t want to kill her either. If he lost control with her and no one was around, he might not be able to stop himself. The best way to keep Lucy safe would be to limit the time he spent close to her. It would be hard. The thought of her in his arms gave Shel a warm glow inside. He admitted to himself at last that he did love Lucy. The merest hint that he loved Lucy and Madeline would be all over her.

The next time Shel met up with Madeline he had to kill her and damn the consequences. Lucy would never be safe with Madeline alive. Another deep sigh and Shel shook off his brooding mood as an idea came to him. He’d give Lucy a way to protect herself. Feeling much better about everything, Shel took the charts out of the drawer by the wheel. In the moonlight, he began to study them. There were places they could stay until he figured out what to do about the book.

* * * *

Lucy stepped out on deck. They were moving. She saw nothing but water surrounding them. Lucy looked up at the stars that seemed to fill the sky despite the nearly full moon. The sight took her breath away. Shel sat at the wheel bathed in the faint glow of the instrument panel. He glanced at her and held out his hand. She went to him and took it, allowing Shel to pull her closer.

“It’s beautiful out here. At night, with all the stars.” She leaned against him and gazed up at the Milky Way.

Shel pressed his lips to Lucy’s hair, breathing in her warm scent, the need barely under control. “Lucy, I want you to promise me something.”

“What?” Lucy turned back to him. He sounded infinitely sad.

Shel opened a drawer in the console and took out a long, thin piece of wood. “Promise me you’ll stake me if I ever lose control with you.”

She refused to take the offered sliver of wood. “No.”

“Please. I don’t want to hurt you.” Shel placed it in Lucy’s hand and wrapped her fingers around it, then lifted the point to his chest, pushing it in enough to dimple his skin. “Right here.”

Lucy looked into Shel’s nearly black eyes for a long moment. He was serious, concerned, and afraid for her. Solemnly Lucy took the stake and put it back in the drawer. “All right. If I ever need to.”

“Thank you.” Shel pulled her close and kissed her.

Lucy stood there beside Shel watching him guide the boat toward a dark inlet. His hands slid over the wheel in a slow caress. Everything inside Lucy heated. She knew what those hands could do.

He stopped the boat a short distance from a beach that glowed silver in the moonlight then got up to lower the anchor. She gazed at the island until she heard him coming back to her.

“Why are you so careful with me?” Lucy asked, reaching out to run her fingers through Shel’s silky shoulder length hair.

Shel hesitated. “Because you’re precious,” he said at last. “You’re like a moment in time that will never be repeated. I don’t want to miss one thing about you. Not your softest sigh, or the way the moonlight turns your hair to silver, or the way your emotions dance in your eyes.”

Lucy couldn’t think of what to say. She knew what Shel felt for her was probably because she reminded him of Isabel. Lucy thought about it for a moment. She had never seen so much love in anyone’s eyes, not even Keith’s. Something inside Lucy told her this man would die to protect her. It scared her more than a little. Lucy wasn’t sure she could live up to her ancestor’s memory.

Shel brushed a strand of Lucy’s hair back from her face and cupped her cheek. “What are you thinking?”

Lucy shook her head, not answering. She looked toward the beach, pale in the moonlight. Shel took her hand, letting the silence rest between them.

* * * *

Shel sat in the darkness of the salon. Lucy slept just feet away. The awful urge to cry rose up and choked Shel making his throat ache. Hot tears dropped to his arms and Shel hugged himself tightly, bending over with the pain of knowing he wasn’t good enough for Lucy. He would never be good enough for her. Lucy needed a caring, gentle man who would put her first and never hurt her. Lucy needed anyone but the monster he was. Shel tried to stifle the sob that squeezed his heart.

* * * *

Lucy woke. She lay there for several seconds trying to place the sound that had pulled her from a wonderful dream of Shel holding her. The soft sound came again. Carefully crept out into the short hallway and made her way to the salon. Lucy could barely make out Shel’s silhouette against the glow of the moonlight in the portholes.

She went to stand beside Shel. He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he knew she was there. She hesitated for a second then sat beside him.

“Sheldon?” Lucy laid her arm over his shoulders. Shel twitched violently, shrugging her arm away and standing up.

Shel leaned his forehead against the wall by the door. He took a deep shuddery breath and swallowed hard. “I’m going up on deck.”

Lucy watched in open-mouthed shock as he opened the door and started up the steps to the deck. Lucy blinked then leapt to her feet and followed him. She caught Shel’s shirt. “Sheldon Jefferson don’t you dare take one more step!”

Shel turned and looked at her. “Go back to bed, Lucy.” His toneless voice sent a shiver through her.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” Lucy stood her ground and waited.

“Lucy,” Shel watched her as she walked toward him despite the warning note in his voice. He never looked away. Shel’s vulnerability struck something deep inside her. The lost expression in his eyes made Lucy determined to chase it away. She would make things right between them.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Lucy reached out and brushed her fingers over his cheek. “Please.”

“Nothing you can help, sweetheart.” He began to turn away.

“Sheldon.” She caught his arm.

Shel looked at Lucy, his eyes cold. She didn’t understand but she wanted to, Shel could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. Maybe it was enough for now. He pulled away, more gently than he would have a few minutes earlier. Lucy let him go without any more questions and he was grateful but strangely saddened.

Lucy watched Shel go then turned and walked over to the small liquor cabinet in the galley. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured a glass before following him up on to the deck.

Shel was sitting on the edge of the deck staring out to sea, his legs hanging over the edge. Lucy sat down next to him without a word and handed him the glass.

Shel took the glass and took a sip. “Monster,” Shel said quietly, his voice matter of fact.

Lucy waited.

“I am you know. Inhuman, unnatural monster.” He took another sip of whiskey. “You don’t want to get mixed up with me sweetheart, with what I am.”

“Ah.” She shifted a bit closer.

“Dangerous, Lucy.”

“Yes, I know.”

Shel turned a bleak gaze on her. “Do you really?”

Lucy placed her hand on Shel’s thigh. “What are you so afraid of?”

“If we do this I will end up hurting you.”

“I’ve been hurt before.” Lucy met his eyes.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Shel took another sip of the drink she’d brought him. On impulse, he held the glass out to Lucy. She took the glass and turned it until she could drink from the spot his lips had touched. Shel raised one eyebrow slightly. Lucy took a sip. And coughed.

Shel took the glass from Lucy and set it on the deck, pulling her closer and patting her back. “First try at whiskey?” He smiled into Lucy’s hair when she nodded.

Lucy leaned against him and Shel slipped his arm around her. They sat on the deck in silence. The sky was growing light and Shel suddenly had the urge to go for an early morning swim. He stood and dove into the water, coming up a few feet away from the yacht.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” Shel called to Lucy.

“I can’t,” Lucy clutched the sheet closer.

“Sure you can.” Shel swam a little closer.

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“I’ll teach you.” He held out his hand.

“Sheldon…”

“Do you trust me or not?” Lucy stood there looking at him for a long moment. Shel thought she would do the wise thing and go lock herself in the cabin. Lucy took a deep breath and jumped into the water. Shel caught her and pulled her close. Lucy kissed him.

Chapter Seven: I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing

Shel caught a glimpse of something purple. Lucy. She was walking along the beach again with the little plastic bucket she’d found in the hold. Probably had it full of more beach trash. Two days anchored in the lagoon of the deserted key and she still couldn’t get enough of wandering the beach. Shel’s hand strayed to the strand of small shells tied around his neck, fingers brushing over them. He tossed the oilcan into the toolbox and went to see what she was doing.

As he walked toward Lucy, she crouched down to examine something on the wet sand. The way Lucy took pleasure in the world around her astounded Shel. In his centuries of life Shel had been with many women, hundreds of them, and he couldn’t remember one who was happy with simple things the way Lucy was. They all wanted fine dresses and jewels, cars and fancy houses, yet here was Lucy living on a small boat with him and asking for nothing. Shel shook his head.

Shel didn’t understand it but she opened up a completely new world for him. He loved the way Lucy could sit and be quiet, as if just being with him was enough. If he’d had her in the beginning, things would have been different. They would have married and had children, he’d never have felt the need to visit women like Isabel. Shel would never have become the monster he was now.

The sea breeze brought Lucy’s scent to Shel like an offering. His whole being seemed to relax. She was close, his inner self seemed to say, everything was well. Shel couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him.

* * * *

Lucy gave the colorful shell a nudge with her fingernail. It was empty so she picked it up, dropping it into the bucket with the rest of her tiny treasures. She rose up and saw Shel walking down the beach toward her. He was wearing the jeans with the ripped knees and the old white shirt he’d worn when they met, unbuttoned as usual. Lucy smiled, waiting for him.

“You’re going to get sunburned out here,” Shel said when he got close. He shrugged off his shirt, and then slipped it around her shoulders.

“So will you.” Lucy caught his hands, stilling them.

“I don’t want you to…” Lucy stopped Shel with a finger to his lips.

Lucy took Shel’s shirt off and put it over his shoulders, waiting until Shel slid his arms into the sleeves. “Compromise. Let’s go walk in the shade.”

Shel smiled. “All right, compromise. Let’s go back to the boat.”

“Not until I show you what I’ve found.” Lucy caught Shel’s hand and pulled him along toward the tree line.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the shadows but Shel could see they were on a narrow trail. He slowed, tugging Lucy back toward him. She gave him a puzzled look. “Lucy, this is probably a wild pig trail. They’re dangerous, let’s go back to the boat.”

“It’s not a wild pig trail,” Lucy said, her voice patient.

“Looks like it is,” Shel shivered at the thought of Lucy being mauled by an angry wild pig.

“Trust me, Sheldon.” Lucy looked into his eyes with that deep calmness that always shook Shel to his soul.

He remembered asking Lucy if she trusted him enough to jump into the ocean with him even though she couldn’t swim. Shel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right. What did you find?”

“Come on, it’s a surprise.” Lucy pulled him along.

Shel kept an eye out for wild pigs, giant fruit bats, crazy cannibals, whatever. Lucy trusted far too easily, after all she trusted him. And he really wasn’t trustworthy at all.

Shel followed Lucy down the trail with a bemused smile on his face and lustful thoughts in his head. The image of Lucy lying on the ferns, orchids in her hair, sprang into Shel’s mind. If it wasn’t a wild pig trail, they could make love right here. There was no one around for miles. Lucy looked over her shoulder at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. A white-hot glow began deep inside. The woman kept turning his world inside out and he kept letting her. He’d have to sit down and figure out why one of these days. If she let him alone long enough.

* * * *

Lucy led Shel up the foot trail. She stifled the urge to laugh. Leading him up the garden path, she thought with a mental chuckle. Lucy suddenly realized she had never allowed herself that freedom, never let go the way she did with Shel. Lucy smiled. He was too serious all the time and she was going to make sure he had fun. Like right now. The trail ended in the tiny clearing. Lucy stopped, stepping to the side to let Shel see what she’d found. He stopped and stared at it the same way she had.

“Come on,” Lucy gave his hand a tug. He looked at her, startled.

Shel followed her without a word to the little concrete platform. The metal framework was still sturdy. At first, Shel thought the white thing in the corner was some sort of weird cocoon. A few seconds of examination and he recognized the thing. Amused, he realized it was a hammock with mosquito netting hanging around it. So that’s where that old army survival kit disappeared to.

“Happy holiday, sweetheart.” Lucy’s voice was a soft whisper in his ear that sent a tingle through him.

“Holiday?” Shel’s mouth was suddenly dry.

“Has to be one somewhere,” she ran a finger down his spine.

“Uh…yeah…” Shel swallowed hard. Lucy was doing it to him again. Just when Shel thought he had his emotions under control. He had to stop letting Lucy rock him like this. Later, the tiny voice in his head whispered.

Lucy slowly walked over to the netting, reaching up to untie the knot that held her sarong on.

Steeling himself, Shel stepped forward and stopped Lucy, covering her hand with his. Shel felt the gentle tremor of her heartbeat. Each tiny shockwave traveled up Shel’s nerves into his brain, amplifying until it pounded through him

Lucy gazed up at him, her clear green eyes that were so much like Isabel’s, her expression puzzled, questioning. The need rose up inside Shel, a crushing force demanding he take her. Shel closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. The dizziness passed. “Lucy…”

“What’s wrong?” Concern colored her voice.

A vision of Isabel in his arms, dead, rose up before Shel. He swallowed hard. “I can’t,” Shel whispered. He realized he was still touching Lucy, his hand resting against her warm skin. He jerked it away. “Forgive me.”

Shel turned and ran.

* * * *

Shel watched Lucy. He’d built the fire when she wanted to stay on the beach after sunset. For the life of him, Shel couldn’t figure out what Lucy was doing. What the hell does she need sticks for? Lucy rummaged around in that horrible tourist tacky bag she called a purse and pulled out a bag of something white. She dropped it into his lap then pulled out a small pocketknife and pointed at the bag of marshmallows.

“Open that while I sharpen the sticks.” Lucy opened the knife and got busy. She whittled the sticks to a sharp point like Shel had watched the old men do in earlier times as they sat in front of a general store and told lies to each other. Except Lucy stopped when the points were sharp and the men kept on whittling until there was nothing left of the wood.

Lucy held her hand out for the bag. Shel gave it to her in silence, not trusting himself to speak just then. He watched Lucy skewer a few marshmallows on the sticks then set the bag aside on the blanket. She handed him a stick. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

She scooted over to sit closer to him. Shel sat very still. She lowered their marshmallows toward the fire, her hand on his.

“We did this when I was a child.” Lucy laid her head against his shoulder.

Her gentleness shattered something inside Shel. He bowed his head and the tears he’d been fighting since they’d started the small fire spilled over to run down his cheeks.

Suddenly Shel dropped his stick and stood up. He walked away into the darkness. He heard Lucy toss hers into the flames and hurry to follow him.

Shel stood in the darkness, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He tried to stop the tears but they refused to even slow down. Lucy’s arms slipped around him from behind. She didn’t speak. Shel was glad; he didn’t think he could answer any questions just then. The way Lucy went on with life despite the things she’d endured and the weirdness trying to envelop her was too much.

Lucy turned Shel around to face her, pulling him into her arms once more. “It’s alright,” she whispered.

Shel shook his head. “These people want to kill us, Lucy.”

She nodded as if it were the most common thing in the world to be chased by killers. “Yes, I know they do,” she agreed, “but we aren’t going to let them. Shel, we can win. We’re going to win.”

“You sound so certain. It’s not like the books. There is no Council or organization or whatever of Vampires to call for help. Hell, there’s not even that many of us around.”

“There’s you. And me. It’s enough.”

“It’s not. Even with the Pack’s help the odds are impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible if you love enough.” Lucy tightened her hold on him and rested her head against Shel’s chest.

A chill swept over Shel at her words. He remembered Isabel’s pronouncement. The curse Madeline laid on him would be broken when Shel found true love. But what did that mean, what was true love? He wasn’t sure he knew. Shel pressed his lips against Lucy’s hair.

Chapter Eight: Must Be Nice

Shel stopped. The locket lay on the tiny nightstand like a challenge. Overcome by the urge to open the locket and see Isabel’s face again Shel picked the necklace up. For several heartbeats, he simply stared at the closed oval case. He heard Lucy doing something in the galley. She wouldn’t know if he opened it. Painful as it was he needed to do it. Shel pushed his thumbnail between the two halves and pulled them apart.

Shel looked for the old feelings. They didn’t exist anymore. He tried to call up Isabel’s smile but saw only Lucy. Isabel had become a pleasant but old and worn memory. It was past time to let go.

He gazed at the image of Isabel’s face. Shel heard Isabel’s words again, “Alas, I do not love you.” He let the bittersweet memory slip away. No, but your granddaughter does. Lucy is everything you never were. He continued to look at the tiny painting of the woman that had been the ultimate cause of all this. Silently Shel thanked Isabel. He would never have known Lucy without the events so long ago and he would have been poorer for it.

“Shel,” Lucy’s voice rang out behind him.

Shel jumped and turned. Lucy saw the locket in his hand. Ah, shit. “Lucy…” He mentally kicked himself. As he watched, all of Lucy’s shields went up again and she closed herself off to him.

Lucy held up her hand, stopping his words. “I know its Isabel you want. I’m sorry I’m not her,” Lucy’s voice was soft, barely a whisper. She crossed her arms over her chest. Shel took a step toward her. Lucy turned, hurrying out of the room as he reached out to her. Shel heard the door to the deck slam. His hand dropped. Shel clenched his fist and swore before turning to punch the wall.

* * * *

Lucy stood at the tiny stove and stirred the spaghetti sauce. The expression on Sheldon’s face when he looked at Isabel’s picture froze her heart. She envied her long gone ancestor the kind of love that he obviously still had for Isabel. It was plain Shel had never gotten over their love. Lucy closed her eyes tightly, beyond tears. She grieved for what she could have had with Sheldon.

All Lucy’s life the people around her had wanted her to be someone else. Lucy had suppressed herself for Keith, been the wife he wanted instead of herself. Sheldon wanted her to be Isabel. Lucy loved Shel but she would not, could not, make herself be someone she wasn’t again.

Lucy saw the desperation, the fear, in Shel’s eyes when he looked at her. She saw the needy little boy inside him. Lucy sighed heavily. If only Shel hadn’t stirred up feelings she’d thought lost. Lucy thought she could handle it when Shel had told her he’d just end up hurting her. Now she knew she couldn’t. Best now she distance herself from him even if that thought made her feel like she was dying inside.

Shel was coming. Lucy gathered her strength and turned. She’d be smiling when he came into the tiny galley. It didn’t register until she’d begun to turn that the footsteps came from the deck. The man behind Lucy filled the little cabin. Lucy opened her mouth to scream. The man stuffed a sickly sweet smelling cloth in her face. The floor went out from under Lucy. Her vision dimmed. Chloroform? She heard Shel shouting as if he was at the bottom of a barrel. The world went black.

* * * *

The sound of someone on deck set off Shel’s inner alarms. How the hell did they find us? Lucy! Shel ran for the salon. He saw the gun and threw himself to one side a fraction of a second too late. The first bullet took him in the shoulder. Shel spun from the impact. The second bullet hit him in the back. Shel hit the floor. He lay there without moving, blood pooling around him.

Shel heard the men methodically searching the boat. They spoke quietly in Russian. He picked out a word or two here and there, enough to know they had not found the key before the darkness claimed him.

* * * *

The headache woke Lucy to the knowledge that she was blindfolded, gagged, and her arms secured to a chair. Lucy turned her head trying to gain some idea of where she was. What did they use for this gag? Her mouth tasted like month old used athletic socks. A wave of nausea sent a chill through her. Lucy forced it down. She didn’t have time to be sick; she needed to get out of there. Shel’s voice came back to Lucy, telling her how Sergei had probably tortured his wife and killed her.

Carefully Lucy tried the bindings around her wrists. She could move a tiny bit but not enough to pull her hands free. A door opened behind her. Lucy stilled and waited. Someone moved around nearby. Suddenly the blindfold was pulled off, taking a clump of hair with it. Bright tropical sunlight seared her eyes. Lucy winced. Pain stabbed through her head.

“I’m going to take your gag off now. Don’t bother screaming, no one will hear you.” The voice was soft, with a Russian accent. Lucy squinted. She could see the man’s shape silhouetted against the glare from the windows.

The man pulled the cloth out of her mouth. Lucy grimaced. “Take this.” The man held a pill up to her mouth. Lucy shook her head.

“It is only aspirin.”

Lucy shook her head again.

“I could force you.”

Lucy turned her head away and ignored him. No way was she going to voluntarily take anything her kidnappers gave her.

The man shrugged. “Fine. Enjoy your pain.” He walked away.

“Where am I?” She was relatively sure Sergei had ordered her kidnapping.

“You are at my cabin.” Another voice came from behind her. A second, older man stepped past her and went to the window. “Shame on you, Yevgeny, to let so much light in.” He reached out and drew the curtains across the big picture window. Lucy blinked as the room grew dim.

“Why did you kidnap me? What do you want from me?” Lucy tried the cords at her wrists again.

“Where is the key you found in the doll?” The man came to stand in front of her.

She looked up at him, all innocence. “What doll?” This had to be Sergei. He looked mean.

Sergei backhanded Lucy, rocking her in the chair. “Where is the key?”

Blood trickled from Lucy’s split lip. “Where is Sheldon? What did you do to him?”

“Your boyfriend is dead.” Sergei gently turned her head back toward him and almost tenderly wiped the blood from her face. “The key. What did you do with it?”

Lucy shook her head. Sheldon is dead? She went weak. The news hit Lucy like a ton of bricks. Tears welled up in her eyes and Lucy blinked them back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The young man stepped up and said something to Sergei in Russian. Sergei frowned, said something back, then looked at her with cold eyes. “I will be back. You will tell me where the key is.” Sergei strode from the room. A chill ran up Lucy’s spine at his tone. She had no doubt, when Sergei returned her questioning would get much rougher.

When the door shut behind the men Lucy bowed her head and let the tears come. Oh, Shel…I am so sorry I got you into this. For the first time since Lucy had lost her family she had let herself open her heart. Now she’d lost the one man who had ever made her feel truly loved and cared for. It was her fault Shel was dead. Pain worse than anything Sergei and his henchmen could do to her rocked her.

Chapter Nine: All I Have To Give

All was quiet. The soft ocean breeze fluttered through the debris of the search, scattering the lighter bits. A piece of paper had stuck in the partially dried puddle of blood under Shel’s body. The late afternoon sun came through the salon and galley windows like fingers of light searching for something. A trio of seagulls moved about the deck looking for something to eat. The braver of the creatures hopped into the little salon. Cautiously it drew closer to the body, turning its head from side to side, examining this thing that might be something to eat. The other gulls followed their companion with querulous squawks. If there was food to be had, they would fight for their share.

Shel’s eyes snapped open. In a blur of movement, he snatched the closest gull, sinking his teeth into the bird’s body. In seconds, Shel had drained the bird. He shuddered. Slowly Shel pushed himself up from the floor. The other two birds stood in the middle of the room. They stared stupidly as he approached. Less than a minute later, they joined their leader and became Shel’s first meal.

He made a face. Gulls tasted awful but their blood was warm and they’d do for the moment. Shel looked around at the ransacked room. Lucy’s purse had been dumped and thrown to the floor. Shel smiled and picked it up, reaching in to tug the lining out. The key fell into his hand. He had no illusion about who had attacked them. Still weak, Shel made his way to the wheel console. He hoped Sergei’s men hadn’t thrown the satellite phone overboard.

The drawers had been emptied and the phone lay just out of reach under the console. Shel swore softly and went inside to find something to use to retrieve it. The second examination of the destroyed room made him feel ill. Shel’s searching gaze fell on the tiny galley stove. A pan sat on one of the burners with a wooden spoon resting in it. Lucy had been making spaghetti. He blinked back tears. Forcing himself back to the job at hand, Shel got the spoon. One of their attackers had turned off the burner. Shel was grateful for that. When he managed to snag it, he dropped the spoon and opened the phone, dialing the one person he knew would help.

DeLong answered on the third ring. “What?” He sounded surly. The Werewolf must have been curled up in the sun for a nap.

“I need your help.” Shel hated asking but if anyone could help him find Lucy, it was DeLong.

“Leech.” Disgust and exasperation colored DeLong’s voice. “I told you I’d get back to you when I…”

“He’s got her, DeLong. Sergei has Lucy.” Shel heard the Werewolf moving.

“Shit. When? What the hell happened?”

“Last night. About an hour after sundown.” Things went very still on the other end of the line.

“Last night. And you’re just now calling for help?”

Shel heard the accusation in the Werewolf’s question. “They shot me. I just came back.”

“Shot you. Sergei, a Helsing, had his men, also Helsings, shoot you but they didn’t kill you? They’ve been hunting you bloodsuckers for years, they’d never let you live when they had the upper hand.”

“Sergei doesn’t know I’m a Vampire. Yet. Now are you going to help me or not?” The silence stretched out and Shel knew the wolf was thinking through all possible scenarios. Finally, he heard a sigh so light human ears couldn’t have detected it.

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can find out. When will you be here?”

“I should be there in a few hours. And bring vests.”

“Right.” DeLong hung up. Shel pressed the end button and tossed the phone into the drawer by the wheel. He’d done all he could for the moment.

* * * *

By the time Shel showered and cleaned up the yacht darkness had fallen. Lucy had been with Sergei nearly twenty-four hours. Shel stepped out onto the deck. He gazed at the fast approaching line of city lights on the horizon. He analyzed his feelings. Shel remembered the night he told Lucy exactly what kind of monster he was. Lucy responded by loving him anyway. If that wasn’t true love, it was still close enough for him.

Shel thought about his life up to that point, all the betrayals, the lies, and the danger. If she was still alive, Shel would get Lucy back, he would see to it that she was safe, make sure she wanted for nothing, and he would slip out of her life forever. Then he’d track down Madeline and kill her. If that meant he had to remain a Vampire forever, then so be it. Lucy was the all that mattered now. If Lucy were dead, well then, the Helsing would see what a Vampire really could do. With cold resolve, Shel turned and went to the wheel. He sat down and disengaged the autopilot.

* * * *

DeLong stood under a dock light, hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. A duffle bag sat on the weathered boards next to DeLong’s sandal clad feet. Shel let the boat slide into the space, bumping softly against the dock. He turned off the engine. It took seconds to tie up, and then Shel was on the dock. DeLong straightened and pushed away from the light pole as Shel approached.

“They aren’t in the city.” DeLong pulled a slip of paper from his shirt pocket. Shel winced at the ill-fitting clothes, a bright oversized Hawaiian shirt and loose tan board shorts the Werewolf wore.

“Real inconspicuous Spot.” He gestured at the red hibiscus flowers scattered over the blue shirt then took the paper from DeLong. Shel unfolded it and looked at the crude map drawn there.

“I’ll tell my valet you disapprove. What’s the plan?”

“Sergei’s had her twenty-four hours.” Shel’s voice cracked. “The plan is kill the son of a bitch.”

Chapter Ten: Little Miss Fortune

Lucy slumped in the corner of the room they put her in, limp as a rag doll. Sergei and his men had gone for the night. She ached everywhere. Her ears still rang from the slaps. They wanted the key that had been hidden in the doll. It was still where she’d put it or she’d already be dead. Lucy had no illusions they weren’t going to kill her.

A small plastic tray holding a paper plate with food that actually smelled pretty good and a plastic cup of what looked like tea sat on the floor a few feet away. With grim determination, she pushed herself closer to the food. Slowly she began to eat. Lucy would need her strength to get out of this place.

Lucy sipped the tea. It was overly sweet and tepid but she drank it. The wetness soothed her dry throat. The meat appeared to be roast beef. She took a bite even though it was difficult to chew with her bruised jaw and her split lip stung. The mashed potatoes and bread were easier.

When Lucy finished she pushed herself up off the floor. She glanced around. The room was empty except for a few blankets in the corner. Lucy ignored the bare bulb in the fixture, she couldn’t reach it. The curtain rod, on the other hand, might be useful. Lucy spent several minutes working until it came down. A quick glance out the window told Lucy that route would be a bad idea. She was on the second floor and the window was wired for an alarm system. Lucy’s gaze fell on the bedding again. It called to her. They had not let her sleep as part of their effort to make her tell them where the key was.

Lucy gave herself a shake. You can’t sleep. No one is coming to rescue you. She needed out of there. Once she had gotten away, she could find a phone and call the police. Then she could sleep. Lucy reached up to run her fingers through her hair. Lucy froze. A slow smile crept across her face as she pulled the hairpin from her hair.

* * * *

Shel let the mugger fall to the ground. In the morning, someone would find the body. He felt the strength returning to him. DeLong picked his teeth with a claw. Without a word, they headed into the trees. He’d like to see the faces of the police when they tried to figure that scene out.

As if he could read Shel’s mind, DeLong looked over and grinned. “I love muggers. I just can’t eat a whole one by myself.”

Shel snorted. He was grateful for the Werewolf’s banter. DeLong seemed to sense sympathy would destroy the fragile hold Shel had on his emotions. “If you’re through playing around let’s go get my girlfriend back.”

“My car is over there.” DeLong waved a huge paw-like hand. The Werewolf dug in the pocket of the shorts and pulled out a key fob. With the press of a button, the headlights flashed on a red minivan.

“A minivan?” Shel followed DeLong to the vehicle.

“The Porsche is in the shop. Deal with it.”

Shel refrained from comment. He didn’t care what they drove to Sergei’s swamp cabin in as long as they got there fast. He climbed in and something squeaked as he sat. Shel reached under himself and found a small stuffed weasel. He looked at DeLong, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, we’ve been looking for that. They youngest won’t go to sleep without it.”

“I didn’t know you were married.” Shel put the toy in the seat behind DeLong.

“Twenty years next month. Six kids.”

Shel was silent for several miles. “You don’t need to…”

“Yeah, I do. What kind of future do they have with Sergei out there?” DeLong cut him off.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence.

* * * *

Lucy wiggled the bobby pin in the door’s lock until she heard it click. She waited a moment to see if anyone heard the little noise. When no one came to check, Lucy slipped the pin back in her hair. She took one more look around the room then slipped out the door into a deserted hallway.

As quietly as possible, she ran down the hall to the stairs. Carefully Lucy hugged the wall and prayed none of the steps creaked as she tiptoed down to the ground floor. She paused in the shadows a few steps from the bottom. Lucy could see another hall with a lighted room at the end and an outside door a few yards away through what looked like a mudroom.

Outside she’d have to deal with guards, possibly dogs, and once she made it to the woods, Lucy was sure there would be alligators and snakes. Lucy hefted the half of the curtain rod she’d liberated. If they were going to kill her, it would be on her terms and she’d go down fighting.

Lucy took a deep breath and made a dash for the door. She reached it without being seen and unlocked the deadbolt securing it. Lucy jerked it open and scanned the area then ran for the side of the house where she could see cars. If her luck held one would have the keys still in it.

She crouched between two cars and reached for the door handle of one. Something made Lucy hesitate before she touched it. What if it has an alarm? She started to bite her lip and winced, she’d forgotten the cut on her lip. No, better to just get away and hope for the best once she got past the fence. Careful to stay in the shadows Lucy made her way to the gate.

The guard appeared to be dozing but Lucy couldn’t be certain. A small bush gave her partial cover. She got ready to use the curtain rod weapon. Suddenly the man stood and she could see headlights coming down the road on the other side of the gate. Lucy shrank back, making herself as small as she could and willing whoever was in the car not to see her.

* * * *

They left the van hidden in the overgrowth on an abandoned driveway and walked to the edge of Sergei’s property. The fence was at least ten feet high. DeLong swore. Shel examined the metal mesh topped with razor wire.

“You think this is live?” DeLong asked.

Shel glanced at DeLong. “If anything happens to me get Lucy out of here. Take her to get the book.”

“What good will that do?” DeLong tossed a small branch at the chain link fence. Nothing happened. He looked back at Shel, puzzled.

“Lucy can use the book.” Shel gave DeLong a grim smile.

The Werewolf gaped at him.

“Let’s go.” Shel stepped up to the fence and caught hold of it. With a movement almost too fast to see, he ripped a hole wide enough for them to slip through.

* * * *

The gate closed behind the car before Lucy could figure out a way through without being seen. She watched the car continue up the drive toward the house while the gate rolled closed. Frustration brought tears to her eyes. They’d discover her gone soon if they hadn’t already. She needed to get through that gate.

Lucy was fresh out of ideas. She got ready to try her luck at another place along the fence. The guardhouse door opened with a squeak. Lucy froze. Maybe her luck had changed for the better. The guard stepped out and began unfastening his pants. Lucy didn’t waste time; she stood and raised the curtain rod, bringing it down on the guard’s head. He dropped without a sound.

Quickly Lucy went inside the tiny booth and pressed the button that opened the gate. It began rolling back. She ran through as soon as it was wide enough. As Lucy ran down the drive toward the road, she hoped she hadn’t killed the guard.

Chapter Eleven: Without You

Halfway across the lawn, floodlights came on and men poured out of the house. “Party time,” DeLong muttered.

“Sergei is mine.” Shel flexed his fingers, stretching them, getting ready for the fight ahead.

“Sure, unless I see him first. You don’t want to know what he did to old Zeke.” DeLong veered toward the back of the house and the men spreading out there.

Shel nodded. Fair enough. He headed for the front. He counted four men, all with guns. He wondered how many of Sergei’s men had actually seen a Vampire or a Werewolf, much less confronted an angry one. Screams sounded from the direction DeLong had gone. Shel smiled, showing his teeth.

The man closest had time to raise his gun before Shel snatched it from his hand, breaking the man’s fingers in the process. He turned it on the others and fired. Two went down, the scent of their blood filling the air like cloying perfume. The third dove for cover. The man he’d disarmed charged Shel. He sidestepped and shot the man.

The front door was closed. Shel kicked it in to find two more men. He smiled, letting them see his teeth. One fainted, the other turned and ran. Shel continued into the house. The place was an older open plan house. It would make finding Lucy easier. He tested the air. Her scent was faint but there. He followed it deeper into the place.

* * * *

Lucy heard the distant popping and stopped running to listen and catch her breath. She realized it must be gunfire. They had discovered her gone. Adrenaline rushed through her. Lucy ran again. She could see lights ahead. She hoped it was an all-night store or gas station.

When Lucy got to the place, she found a rundown little convenience store with a couple gas pumps. The stitch in her side doubled her over. Lucy gasped for air, trying not to black out. Hands on Lucy’s arms pulled her toward the store. Someone eased her into a plastic lawn chair and someone else pushed a bottle of water into her hand.

“What de hell happen to you, girl?” Lucy couldn’t place the accent right away. I must look awful. Lucy looked into the dark eyes of a nice looking man with the longest dreads she’d ever seen.

“Kidnapped,” she managed to get out in between gasps. “Off the boat.”

The man frowned. “Who?”

“Russian…” She stopped at the man’s raised hand.

He turned to someone in the small crowd around her. “Call de police.”

* * * *

The office was as cluttered as the one in Sergei’s Miami house. The Russian stood behind an ornate desk.

“Where is she?” Shel asked, his voice cold and quiet.

Sergei sneered. “Dead. As you will be in a moment.”

Shel froze for a heartbeat. He’d known going in Lucy was probably dead. Still, to hear Sergei say it shook Shel more than he thought it would. He narrowed his eyes in pain, he would mourn later. After he killed Sergei. In Shel’s peripheral vision, Shel saw movement. He turned enough to see another man and a woman. Madeline. Shel’s vision went red.

The man with Madeline stepped in front of her and leveled his gun. Shel grabbed the man’s hand, twisting until he felt bones snapping. Shel jerked the man toward him, opening his mouth to bite. Movement from the desk stopped him. Shel turned, pulling his victim in front of him.

White faced and eyes wide with fear, Sergei fired. The man jerked with the impact of the bullets. Shel raised the gun he held, returning fire. Sergei lunged to one side clutching his shoulder. Shel pushed the dead man away. Following the movement, he aimed and squeezed the trigger. With an incoherent scream of rage, Madeline’s arms snaked around him. Shel’s shot went wild, missing Sergei. Madeline dug her dagger-like nails into Shel’s arm. Pain seared his shoulder.

He tried to shake her off. Madeline clawed at Shel’s neck, trying to tear out his throat. The impact of Madeline’s attack pushed Shel against the desk. Shel tripped on her dead companion fending off Madeline’s hand. With a desperate shove backward, Shel slammed her into the wall. Madeline’s grip loosened for an instant. Shel wrenched free, her nails ripping through fabric and flesh. He backhanded her and Madeline fell back, stunned.

Shel stumbled around the desk. Sergei cowered in a corner holding his gun on Shel with a shaking hand. Shel gave his wounded shoulder a glance, touching the blood. He brought his bloody fingers to his lips and licked them, then spat. Sergei fired. Shel hardly noticed the bullets hitting the vest he wore. He caught Sergei’s shirt collar and dragged the screaming man up off the floor.

“I told you I’d drink your blood.” Shel bit.

When Sergei stopped struggling Shel let the dead Helsing fall to the floor. He turned. Madeline was nowhere to be seen. Shel felt hollow. She had won again. Shel stood motionless for what seemed like forever, numb to everything.

Lucy was somewhere in the house, probably only a few feet away but Shel didn’t want to see her. He wanted to remember Lucy as she had been in his arms. An image of Lucy on the beach floated, watery before Shel’s eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut as the cold empty pain of grief filled him. Somehow, Shel forced his eyes open again. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were supposed to be together forever.

A soft sound filled Shel’s ears, like something unable to draw in enough air. He turned to go, leaving, moving on although he had no clue how to get through the rest of his life. When Shel stepped outside, the breeze chilled his face and Shel realized he was crying. In the distance, he saw the flash of blue, red and white lights, police and emergency vehicles. Shel wondered who had called them.

Then they were swarming over Shel, police rushing past, paramedics making him sit on a gurney while they cut his shirt off to get to the wounds on his shoulder and back. One apologized for causing Shel pain but he didn’t feel anything. “Shock,” the other said and tried to make Shel lie down. He didn’t move, staring at the house unblinking until a wall of red and blue and tan blocked it from view.

“Where’s Lucy?” the deep bass voice asked and Shel looked up into the face of DeLong. Shel opened his mouth to explain but the realization Lucy was gone stole his breath. His heart cracked. Shel would never be free of the curse. The world tilted in slow motion then hands were on him holding him steady. Shel fisted his hands in the cool impersonal white sheet beneath him, squeezing his eyes shut against the world.

Chapter Twelve: I Can See Clearly Now

Lucy stepped out of the taxi in front of the Bait and Switch Charter Boat Company. The closed sign still hung in the window. The door had been nailed shut with a board across it. Lucy glanced at the taxi as it pulled away. With a soft exhalation, she started toward the dock. When Lucy had asked the police had told her Sheldon’s boat had been brought in and moored in its slip at the marina.

Lucy expected to feel something when she saw the old yacht, but the intenseness of the pain surprised her. For a moment, Lucy thought the figure she saw on deck was Shel. She blinked and realized the person was too big to be Shel. With a frown, Lucy picked up her pace. Well, whoever they are they can get off that boat right now.

The man on the deck blinked at her and smiled. Lucy recognized Shel’s Werewolf friend. “Well. Glad to see you’re not dead.”

“I got away.” Lucy walked up the gangplank.

“Obviously. And I’d love to hear all about it one day. But right now I think you need to go tell him.”

“They said… I thought…” Lucy broke off, confusion mingled with hope.

“They lie. A lot. If he asks I’ll be back later, now go.” DeLong pushed himself out of the deck chair that was almost too small for him and started for the dock.

Lucy stopped the Werewolf, touching his arm. DeLong gave her hand a pat, sniffed, grinned, and pointed toward the darkened entrance into the salon. She nodded and went.

* * * *

Shel heard DeLong’s voice and wondered whom the Werewolf was talking to. Even with his heightened hearing Shel couldn’t make out the words. Shel forced himself to sit up. His shoulder had healed it was his heart that never would

Footsteps sounded from the salon. Shel frowned. The tread was too light to be DeLong. Maybe it’s DeLong’s wife? Movement outside the cabin’s window made Shel turn his head. DeLong was walking down the dock, Shel would recognize those ugly hairy legs anywhere. He turned back toward the passage to the salon and Shel’s heart skipped several beats.

Lucy stood in the cabin doorway. Shel couldn’t breathe. He stood motionless as Lucy walked toward him. Lucy lifted her hand to his cheek. Squeezing his eyes shut Shel pressed into the touch, her hand cool against his face. As if Lucy’s touch brought him back to life Shel gasped, covering her hand with his own. Shel pulled Lucy into his arms and buried his face in her hair. Lucy’s arms went around him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Shel said softly.

“Never.” Lucy tightened her hold, looking up at him. “I love you.”

Shel looked into her eyes. They shone with tears. “You are my life, Lucy. You know that, don’t you?” Lucy nodded, laying her head against his chest again. Shel touched his lips to her hair. “I love you, too.”

They stood there in silence a long time.

* * * *

The sound of footsteps on deck made Shel lift his head, wary. Madeline stepped into the salon. A chill of foreboding swept over Shel. Shivering, he stepped in front of Lucy. “You aren’t welcome here, Madeline.” Shel couldn’t stop his shaking. Madeline’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. She saw. Madeline thought he trembled in fear. Lucy rested her hand on Shel’s back. Her warmth spread through him.

“Oh, cherie, do not look so surprised. Did you think you were safe? You cannot keep me away. You are mine. You can deny me nothing.” Madeline smiled.

Shel shook his head. A short bark of disbelieving laughter escaped him. “This isn’t New Orleans.”

Madeline’s eyes narrowed. Her hand moved in a languid gesture. “Give me the book and I will let your little plaything live. Or do not and I will kill her. Choose.”

Shel felt hollow. “You need to get a new line Madeline. That one is getting old.”

“So be it.” Madeline snapped her fingers.

Pain ripped through him. Shel dropped to his knees with a gasp. He heard Lucy call out. The sounds of Lucy being pulled away broke through the fog of pain. No. Shel clenched his teeth and fought the pain. Not this time. Shel pulled himself to his feet and followed Madeline.

When Shel got to the deck he froze. Madeline stood a few feet away, near the wheel console. Madeline held Lucy, pinning her arms. A memory of Kitty docilely waiting for Madeline to bite flashed through his mind. Everything went dark. Shel’s predatory hunter’s vision focused on his prey.

In slow motion Madeline turned toward him. Somewhere in Shel’s consciousness he was aware Lucy was fighting for her life calling for him to help her. Shel couldn’t hear Lucy over the slow pounding of his pulse in his ears. Madeline’s malicious smile faltered. Shel moved toward her. Madeline backed away, dragging Lucy with her.

Shel felt time slow to a crawl. He drew close to the console and remembered the drawer where the stake he’d given Lucy lay. It was in his hand in seconds. Madeline seemed to realize the balance of power had shifted. She shoved Lucy toward him. Shel caught the woman he loved and gently pushed her aside.

Madeline bared her teeth with a hiss and leapt at him. The impact carried them both to the deck. She sank her claw-like red nails into Shel’s still tender shoulder, her teeth snapping at his throat. Shel raised his arm, deflecting Madeline’s attack. Her teeth sank into his shoulder. Bone cracked and white-hot pain shot down every nerve. Shel brought the stake up between them and thrust with all the fury in him, the sharp wood sliding into Madeline’s heart.

Shel scrambled to his feet as Madeline shrieked and clawed wildly at her own chest. Lucy threw herself into his arms. They backed away from the quickly crumbling thing on the deck. A gust of wind scattered all that was left of Madeline, dispersing it into the water. Shel buried his face in Lucy’s hair, breathing in her warm sweet scent. He allowed Lucy to lead him into the salon.

Chapter Thirteen: Magic Bus

Lucy snatched the keys from Shel. “You’re in no shape to drive, I’ll do it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Shel protested. Lucy shook her head. Men never changed, even when they were Vampires. She pressed the button to unlock the car and left Shel to get in the passenger side.

“I still don’t understand all this.” Lucy settled into her seat and started the car.

Lucy pulled out into traffic. Shel leaned his head back with a heavy sigh. “Sergei and his men. They hunt and kill anyone paranormal. They’re called Helsings after the character in Bram Stoker’s Dracula.”

“But why did they want me?” Lucy glanced in the rear view mirror.

“They want the book, the power it represents.” Shel shifted uncomfortably. He was avoiding something. She wanted to know what it was.

“Tell me.” Lucy didn’t ask, she demanded.

“Did you know Isabel came to this continent as a convict?” Shel’s voice was soft. Lucy shot him a startled glance. Shel smiled sadly. “No, of course you didn’t. Isabel was transported for what they called unnatural congress then.”

“Go on.” Lucy kept her tone neutral. Shel had known her ancestor. She was willing to listen to him.

“When I met Isabel, she had already been in the Americas for many years. She would never say exactly how many but the rumor was well over a hundred.”

Lucy gave an unladylike snort of disbelief. “More than a hundred years? Are you telling me she was a Vampire, too?”

Shel gave Lucy a faint, sad smile. “Isabel was a Werewolf.”

The word rang in Lucy’s head. She felt numb. Lucy hit a pothole. The impact jolted her out of her shock.

Shel winced. “Isabel was a dangerous woman. Seductive. Especially to young men who fancied themselves libertines. She had a special kind of power over anyone different. Anyone paranormal. It was part of what made her attractive.”

“Is she still…I mean…” Lucy clenched the steering wheel tighter. She had to know if there was even a tiny chance Shel might leave someday.

“Alive? No. She…died. A little over two centuries years ago. Not long after she put her power into the book.”

“What happened?”

Shel looked away, staring at the blur of the passing scenery. “Isabel…I killed her. She was my first victim.”

Lucy went cold. “You killed her…”

“She made a mistake. She fell in love. The man was not supernatural. He insisted she renounce her power but Isabel didn’t want to let it go completely. So she created the book when her son was born and it made her vulnerable. At the end she couldn’t defend herself.”

Lucy listened to the story of Isabel’s betrayal of Sheldon and her ultimate death. Lucy nodded, a sense of horror making her uneasy. She thought about it and found she couldn’t quite connect with what Shel was telling her. Isabel had always been more of an abstraction and less of a real person to Lucy. She was not at all sure she wanted any more details but Lucy had to ask. “Madeline has the book, why do they want me?”

“She had the book. About thirty years ago one of Isabel’s descendants managed to steal it back. He was killed in the process.”

“So now no one can use this book.” Lucy didn’t like where this seemed to be headed. She refused to connect the facts together.

“There is one,” Shel said softly.

“Who?” She didn’t like where this was going.

“You.” His words were flat. The toneless sound sent a chill through her.

“Me?” He nodded once. What if I don’t want to? Lucy swallowed her rising panic. She let the silence in the car grow heavy. “But I’m not…I’ve never…”

“Turned into a wolf? I’d be surprised if you had. Only the males turn.” Shel laid his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. It didn’t help.

Lucy shook her head, banishing the thought of everything except the book. “If I had the book, I would have control over Vampires and…”

“The Werewolves, yes. This is why they’ve kept the book hidden. And why Madeline wanted it back. She was a cruel and capricious tyrant. Madeline treated the Werewolves badly. When it came back into their hands they hid it. They’ve watched Isabel’s descendants ever since then to be sure none of them found the book. I don’t know how they missed you.”

Lucy began to understand why her mother had always been so strict. “We never had much to do with the family. After my father died Mama kept me away from them…” She shivered.

“Lucy…” He sounded pained.

Lucy pressed her lips together. There was more. She heard it in his voice. “There’s more, isn’t there. Something you’re not telling me.”

Shel nodded. “When she eased the curse Isabel told me only true love would break it.”

Cold washed over Lucy. She glanced at Shel. He started straight ahead, a wooden expression on his face.

“You’re still a Vampire. You think the curse is tied up with the book somehow. You think I could control you with this book.” Lucy felt ill.

“Yes. If you wished.”

Lucy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We have to get the book and destroy it.”

“When you get the book they won’t be happy about it. They’ll try to get it back.”

“I’m not Isabel. Or Madeline, either. I didn’t ask for this.” She shivered again. Shel was the only good thing in this whole mess. Lucy wanted nothing more than to stay on the boat with Shel and make love for the rest of her life. Suddenly, Lucy knew what she had to do. She told him. Shel began to smile.

* * * *

Shel saw the bus station ahead. He knew Lucy meant well but the need to warn her again refused to go away. It took all his willpower to speak. “There is always a cost to these things. The price for the book might be too steep.”

“I have to try,” Lucy said, just as he knew she would.

* * * *

The station was new, modern yet shabby from use. Lucy laced her fingers through Shel’s. Together they walked toward the lockers, searching for the one the key fit. Lucy found the nondescript square door and opened it. Inside lay an old battered book about the size of a thin paperback. She picked it up and looked at Sheldon for a moment before slipping it into her purse. Without a word, they left the station to do what was necessary.

Lucy passed the car in front of them and picked up speed. “We’re being followed.”

Shel shook his head tiredly. “Damn. I was afraid of this. Try and lose them.”

Lucy nodded and threaded her way through traffic. She took the first exit and doubled back. Shel directed her down a few side streets until they came back to the freeway.

“If we go back to the boat they’ll catch us. Keep driving. We can rent a boat when we get to the Key.” Shel smiled. “You can do what you need to when we get to the Island.”

Chapter Fourteen: My Immortal

The small brown leather bound folio looked too ordinary to have caused so much trouble. Lucy opened it and turned a few pages. Madeline had written in this book, decrees and laws for the society of Vampires and Werewolves, sentences of death for some, good fortune for others. The woman had wielded and abused her power over others for many years. So much suffering and death. She wanted none of it. Lucy was not Isabel. It was time they all learned that.

Slowly she began to tear the page from the binding. The words seemed to writhe on the page she held. Lucy’s scalp prickled. A sudden gust of wind flipped the half-removed page she held from her fingers. Lucy jerked her fingers away as the book closed with a vicious snap. She frowned at it for a moment then opened it again. Grasping the torn page, Lucy took a deep breath and yanked. The page came out of the book with a sound like a scream. Lucy tossed it into the fire.

A strong breeze had sprung up, the sky darkening with storm clouds as several more pages followed.

Shel gasped harshly. Lucy turned toward the man she loved. On his hands and knees in the sand, he retched. Lucy went to kneel beside him, dropping the book.

He waved her away. “No, don’t stop, destroy it.”

Lucy nodded. She picked up the book and stood. It resisted when she tried to open it. Digging her fingernails under the flap of the cover, Lucy pried it up. Thunder cracked as she began to feed more pages into the fire.

The flames burned steady despite the growing wind. With each page, their color began to shift from orange to green. Lucy tossed another page into the flames. Lightning flashed, striking the sand all around them, the thunder drowning out the sound of the waves. Shel staggered to his feet at the edge of the firelight.

* * * *

Shel’s body moved under the control of the book. He stood and faced Lucy. He fought to keep his arms from reaching for her. The sound of Isabel’s shrieks on the wind rang in Shel’s ears. Lucy stood before him unmoving. The wind whipped her hair into writhing tendrils that seemed to merge with the lightning. “Run,” Shel gasped out, clenching his trembling hands into fists.

“Sheldon…” Lucy’s voice mingled with Isabel’s. Suddenly he was back in Isabel’s boudoir where it all began and Shel knew he would kill Lucy just as he had killed Isabel. He would not be able to stop it. Shel’s eyes stung with unshed tears. Despair made Shel’s heart tighten. He couldn’t go through this again.

Shel closed his eyes tight against the sight of Lucy’s thin red dress plastered against her body by the wind. Memories hammered at Shel. Lust and need raged in him. Slowly Shel’s fingers unclenched, uncurling one at a time, as his arms rose again. Shel groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. “The stake.” He forced the words past his clenched teeth. “Get it.”

“Shel…”

“Dammit, Lucy! You’ve got to.” Shel forced his arms around himself and tried to turn away. “Don’t let me kill you. Don’t make me live with that.”

* * * *

“Please, Lucy. If you love me, kill me. Now.” Shel took a jerky step forward, like a puppet pulled by a violent puppet master.

As Shel moved closer Lucy edged away, keeping the fire between them. She grasped several pages and ripped. Shel winced, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. Somehow, the book was using Shel, forcing him to attack her. His eyes glowed, reflecting the firelight. Lucy shivered. Fear turned her blood icy, urging her to drop the book and run.

Lucy started to back up a step then stopped. This was the man she loved. She would not run. Lucy stepped around the fire toward him. “You said you love me. I believe that. You won’t hurt me.” She pulled the last pages from the book and let them fall into the flames.

Shel made a soft mewling sound of distress. “No, please, I can’t control myself much longer.”

Slowly Lucy reached up with one hand and untied the strap of her dress. Switching the book to her other hand Lucy gave the other strap a tug. The dress fell to the sand. She stepped free of the material and held out her arms.

An anguished moan escaped Shel as his control broke. He growled, lunging at Lucy, fangs glistening. Lucy caught Shel, wrapped one arm around him, holding him tight to her. She tilted her head, allowing Shel access to the side of her neck. His teeth grazed her skin sending goosebumps over her body.

The gale shrieked and howled around them. Lucy didn’t want the power the book held. All she wanted was Sheldon Jefferson and the love he had for her. Desire filled Lucy. At the prick of Shel’s fangs she dropped what remained of the book into the fire and drew Shel down to the sand with her. The old leather blackened, and then caught in a shower of green sparks.

Shel moved over her, desperation in his touch. His mouth on her neck burned, branding her as his. The thunder and shrieking wind faded, replaced by the sound of rain. Lucy gave herself to Shel, holding nothing back, allowing him to love her. Something between them pulled and tightened, binding them together even as the curse lifted. Shel drew back, wonder on his face.

Lucy looked up into Shel’s dark eyes, glistening with pent up emotion. He stopped moving. Shel’s lips were parted, his chest heaving with his harsh gasps as he gazed back at her. Above him, the clouds were breaking up, the warm golden light filtering through.

She thought for a second Shel might say something, an instruction or maybe an endearment. He didn’t. Tilting his head to one side, Shel lowered himself again, covering her mouth with his as he twined his tongue with hers in a plundering kiss.

Shel lifted his head beginning to move once more. He held Lucy as if she were a fragile and precious gift. Shel licked his lips then dropped his head to her shoulder, nuzzling the place he’d bitten her. Shel’s hot breath gusting against Lucy’s skin made her shiver. Lucy reached up, threading the fingers of one hand through Shel’s thick black-brown hair. The other arm she wrapped around his waist. Shel’s breath hitched, speeding up, as he drove into her harder, rain sluicing over them to soak into the sand under her.

It seemed as if he wanted to climb inside her, to push through her until they were one person. Lucy raised her knees, allowing him to drive deeper. Shel stretched her, filled her, surrounded her with his body and the musk of his subtly changed scent. His breath quickened, gaining a shuddery, desperate quality and Lucy knew Shel was about to come apart in his release.

Lucy moved her hands, sliding them down his wet back. Shel’s movements became erratic. She held him, her touch gentle and soft as she soothed and comforted. He thrust his hips one last time and didn’t stop. Shel tightened his hold with a sob as he pressed his face into her hair to muffle the groan he couldn’t keep inside.

Shel shuddered through the aftershocks cradled in her arms. His breathing calmed at last. Once more, Shel lifted himself up on his elbows to look down at her. Lucy gave him a faint smile, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear. This was where she was supposed to be, with him, in his arms.

* * * *

Why had he never noticed how green Lucy’s eyes were or how soft her body was? The glow from the sunset turned her eyes to emerald fire. It made the moisture on her silken skin glisten. Shel kissed her again. Lucy tasted like sweet tea and fortune cookies. He was an idiot to have ever doubted her love.

This moment was too precious to shatter with loud words. He had a lifetime with Lucy, to protect her and cherish her the way she was meant to be. Shel pressed his lips close to her ear mouthing the words he needed to say in a delicate whisper, “I love you.” Lucy’s breath caught. He needed her again. Shel began to move.

* * * *

Lucy watched the small boat slow to a stop a few yards from shore. She made out DeLong and a Werewolf she didn’t know. The faint sound of their argument reached her. They seemed to be worried about the book. Lucy stood, brushing the sand from her dress. The fire had died in the rain. They were too late. Shel stood with her as the two Werewolves ran up.

“Where is it? Where’s the book?” DeLong asked. His companion glared at her.

“I burned it.” She looked DeLong in the eye.

“You burned it?” DeLong’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

“I did.”

“And you let her?” DeLong turned his gaze on Shel.

“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.” Shel slid his arms around her waist. She leaned against him.

“Are you insane?” The unfamiliar Werewolf shrieked, dropping to his knees to claw through the ash.

“Nothing left?” DeLong raised an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing.” Lucy smiled at the Werewolf.

DeLong’s companion stood and glared at her. “I suppose you’ll have a list of rules and demands for us now.” He gave DeLong a dirty look.

Shel’s presence at her back was warm and welcome. Lucy looked the Werewolves in the eye. “No.”

“The Council… No?” He blinked at Lucy. “But Isabel, the book… Her power…”

“I’m not Isabel. And I don’t want any power.” She waited while that sank in.

The Werewolf’s eyes shone with unshed tears in the afternoon sun. He shook his head in wonder. “Thank you.”

Lucy watched him turn and start back to the boat they’d come to the Island in. DeLong watched but didn’t follow right away. He turned back to her and smiled.

“We’re having a barbecue Saturday. Why don’t you and Lucy join us?” DeLong winked at her.

“We’ll do that.” Shel squeezed her shoulder. Lucy put her hand on his and squeezed back.

“Good. The wife wants a word with you about that scratch on her van.” DeLong turned to follow his companion back to their little boat.

* * * *

Night had fallen some time ago. They lay in each other’s arms. Shel shifted, easing his injured arm. He thought about everything that had happened. It seemed strange not to feel the need rising up inside anymore. Shel ran his tongue over his teeth, ordinary now with normal sized canines. The heightened senses were gone as well. He wouldn’t be able to smell Lucy’s presence anymore. Drawing her closer Shel inhaled the scent of her hair, shampoo and sex, and Lucy. With a sigh, he pushed it all away. He would adapt. As long as he had Lucy he could do anything.

Epilogue: Walking On Sunshine

Shel sat on deck watching the brilliant oranges and purples of the tropical sunset. A dark line of thunderheads to the east promised fall rain later. He sipped his after dinner whiskey and listened to Lucy moving around below. It just might be time to think about buying a house. Something close to the marina so he could still take clients out.

It got quiet in the salon. Shel put the glass down on the console and listened. A muffled shriek came from the vicinity of the head. He picked up his glass and drank the rest of the whiskey. A slow smile spreading across his face he ambled down the steps into the salon.

Lucy barreled into him, knocking the air from him in an oof. Shel staggered back a step catching her, wrapping his arms around her as she kissed him. Yes, a house with a fenced yard. And that swing set I saw at the home store.

About Penny Ash

I started trying to write science fiction and fantasy romance stories way back in high school with a friend. We spent hours making up tales involving our favorite characters. We had no idea that others were doing the same thing. We just loved telling stories. Back then my friend and I didn’t know what we were doing was called fan fiction. Fast forward to a fateful night in 2003. Surfing the net for entertainment, I rediscovered fan fiction. A light went on in the dark dusty mental room where I’d stored all those high school stories. I began to think hey, I can do this. I took a deep breath, sat in front of my computer, and began to ask what if. Several truly bad stories later, I got up the nerve to post a story and waited for a response. To my surprise and excitement people read my stories and even better they liked them. I began to learn how to create characters of my own and to plot. Then someone said those magical words, “You should publish this.” I thought “Um, well, why not?” So I sent my first original story in. They lost it. So I sent it again. About six hours later I had my first sale and voila, a career was born. All thanks to the training ground called fan fiction. So thank you fan fiction, I wouldn’t be here without you.

I currently have three books available, Pale Fire, a science fiction romance, Far From Montana, a contemporary suspense romance, and Puca, a fantasy romance. All are available on Kindle.