His existence would have been perfect, Rhys mused, if not for the new hunter in town, and the rogue vampire who was slowly making his way toward the West Coast, pint by pint, and body by body. He hadn’t heard of any more vampire killings in the last week. Did that mean the rogue had finally had his fill? Or did that new hunter in town have something to do with it?

“Rhys?” Megan tapped his forehead lightly. “Hey, Rhys? You in there?”

“What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about some club business.” He didn’t like lying to her, but he could hardly tell her the truth.

“It is anything you want to talk about?” Megan asked.

“No.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “When we’re together, I don’t want to think about anything but you.”

“Stop thinking,” she murmured, “and kiss me.”

“My pleasure, as always,” he replied, and claimed her lips with his.

Megan was standing on the front porch with Rhys later that night when Shirl came home from a date with Greg.

Shirl was humming the first few notes of the wedding march as she skipped up the stairs. A nod at Rhys, a wink at Megan, and Shirl went inside and closed the door, giving Megan and Rhys some privacy.

Love was in the air, Megan thought. She hadn’t seen her roommate looking so happy in a long time. It was obvious from the glow in Shirl’s eyes that she was in love with Greg. Megan grinned inwardly, wondering if people could tell just by looking at her that she, too, was in love.

Rhys waited until Shirl closed the door, then pulled Megan into his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he murmured.

Megan closed her eyes as his lips touched hers in a long, slow kiss that made her knees weak and her toes curl.

Another quick kiss, a wave, and he got in his car and roared off into the darkness.

Megan was smiling when she walked into the living room.

“Things seem to be going hot and heavy between the two of you,” Shirl remarked. After kicking off her shoes, she flopped down on the sofa, and looked up at Megan, one eyebrow raised.

Megan tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Hot and heavy didn’t begin to describe it, she thought, as she curled up on the other end of the sofa.

“No more doubts about him?” Shirl asked.

“Not really,” Megan replied, though that wasn’t exactly true. “It’s just that a lot of little things bother me, like the way his eyes sometimes glow red, and the way he sometimes seems to just fade into the darkness.” But none of that seemed important when she was with Rhys.

Shirl toyed with a lock of her hair, her expression thoughtful. “Doesn’t it seem strange to you that you never see him during the day, and that every time we offer him something to eat, he refuses?”

Megan shook her head. Rhys had a nightclub to run; she assumed that it kept him busy during the day. As for his not having dinner with her, the few times she had invited him, he had always had a valid excuse. Still…“What are you getting at?”

“He wears a lot of black.”

“Hello? He runs a Goth club, remember? Besides, it looks good on him.” And even as she said the words, she remembered standing in Shore’s parking lot and thinking that Rhys looked like the night, because he was the night. The memory sent a shiver down her spine. “Shirl, just what are you trying to say?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Well, if I really believed in such things, I’d say he was a vampire.”

Megan stared at her a moment. “A vampire? Are you serious?”

“No, of course not, but…”

“Go on.”

“You said it yourself. His eyes turn red. He sort of disappears into the night.” Shirl made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “You know me, I’m always looking for the real thing.”

“That’s what you say, but I remember how fast you dumped that guy who wanted to drink your blood.”

“Isaac, yeah,” Shirl said. “Well, I never told you this, but he didn’t just want to drink my blood. He wanted to cut me with a razor and let the blood drip into a silver goblet. It was just too creepy.” Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temples.

“Another headache?” Megan asked.

“Just a little one.”

“There’s no such thing as vampires, girlfriend, but those headaches are real. I wish you’d go to the doctor.”

“Nag, nag, nag. You’re worse than my mother. Stop worrying, will ya? And as for vampires, haven’t you been listening to the news? They’re finding bodies drained of blood from one end of the country to the other.”

“You can’t believe what you hear on the news, you know that.”

“Maybe not,” Shirl said. “But they showed a picture of the last victim. You might not want to believe what you read, but it’s pretty hard to ignore a dead body. And on that happy note, I’m going to bed.” Rising, she picked up her shoes. “I’ll probably be gone when you get up in the morning. Greg’s taking me fishing.”

“Fishing? Since when do you like to fish?”

“Since Greg asked me to go with him.”

“Have fun,” Megan said, grinning as she tried to imagine Shirl baiting a hook.

“Ah, the things I do for love,” Shirl exclaimed dramatically. “Night, Meggie.”

“Good night.”

Megan went up to bed a few minutes later. Lying there in the dark, she thought about what Shirl had said, then laughed softly. Vampires, indeed.

Sunday night, Megan convinced Rhys to go to one of the free concerts in Griffith Park. She had wanted to sit up front, near the band, but Rhys persuaded her to sit near the back. He told her it was so he could kiss her without an audience, but that was only a part of the truth. Being in the midst of hundreds of people played havoc with his self-control.

Sitting on a blanket, with Megan cradled between his thighs, his arms around her waist, he could pretend he was no different from any other man. His desire sparked to life when she shifted in his embrace. He nuzzled the back of her neck, his senses filling with her unique scent, making it easy to ignore everyone else. She moaned softly when he nipped at the smooth skin beneath her ear lobe, her soft sigh of pleasure stirring other hungers best left unfed. And yet the scent of her blood, the steady beat of her heart, all called to the beast within, urging him to drag her into the shadows and satisfy both of his hungers. His arm tightened around her waist, imprisoning her as the urge to feed grew stronger.

“Rhys?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he replied, his voice rough. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re hurting me.”

“What?” Muttering an oath, he relaxed his hold on her and leaned back, putting some space between them. “Sorry.”

Megan frowned. Why was it that, every now and then, his eyes took on that reddish hue? Was it a trick of the colored lights playing over the park? But what about when they were alone and there were no lights?

“Are you ready to go?”

“Not really,” she said. “Why? Are you?”

He was more than ready to leave. So many people, all sitting close together, so many beating hearts…He had thought if he put some distance between himself and the crowd, it would help, but it hadn’t. And then there was Megan, her body pressed close to his. A constant temptation.

He took a deep, calming breath. “We can stay if you want.” Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss across her cheek. “I just need to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Before she could ask any questions, he stood and melted into the shadows. The area away from the concert was dark; there were no paths, lights were few.

He had been kidding himself, he mused, as he put the crowd behind him. There was no way on earth that he and Megan could have a life together. The only reason the relationship between Delacourt and Daisy had lasted was because Daisy had accepted the Dark Gift. Rhys hadn’t known Megan long, but he was pretty sure she would reject the idea of becoming a vampire out of hand.

He was about to return to the concert area when he became aware of two things simultaneously. Megan had followed him, and the hunter was right behind him. Rhys swore softly. If he met his end tonight, it would be his own damn fault. He had been so busy thinking about things that could never be, he had let his guard down.

Fangs bared, he whirled around and came face-to-face with a big bear of a man who brandished a nasty-looking pistol in one gloved hand, and a large wooden stake in the other.

Chapter 19

Megan stared, uncomprehending, at the scene before her. She looked at Rhys, but it was a Rhys she had never seen before. His body was taut and even from a distance, she could feel the power rolling off him. When he glanced her way, his eyes blazed red. She closed her eyes a moment and then looked again. His eyes were still red. It was no trick of the light this time.

The man standing across from Rhys was huge. He was dressed in black from his hat to his shoes. Megan took a step forward, her eyes narrowing. Was he holding a gun? And a wooden stake?

The man moved toward Rhys. And Rhys snarled at him, revealing…Megan blinked at him, and blinked again. Fangs?

She was dreaming, she thought, she had to be dreaming.

Without taking his gaze from the other man, Rhys shouted. “Megan, get the hell out of here! Now!”

Before she had time to think or respond, the man in black fired the gun. Rhys doubled over, hissing through clenched teeth as his hands pressed against his stomach.

The man in black lunged forward, the stake raised in his right hand. A low cry rose in his throat as he plunged the stake into Rhys’s back. She watched in horror as Rhys slowly sank to the ground and toppled onto his side, his hands still pressed to his stomach. In the dim light, the blood leaking through his fingers looked black.

What to do, Megan thought frantically. She took a step forward, driven by her need to go to Rhys, to offer aid, comfort, something, but before she could clear her mind, the man turned toward her.