As Twilight Falls

chapter 22

Kadie woke feeling as if she hadn’t had more than an hour or two of sleep. Her dreams had been filled with red-eyed demons and faceless monsters clad in black. Sometimes they had chased her. Sometimes they had attacked each other. Once she had dreamed she was buried alive in Leslie’s grave. She had pounded on the lid of the coffin, screaming for help until her throat was raw, and all the while she could hear Saintcrow telling her she should have run while she had the chance. And always there had been blood, rivers of blood.

She banished her bad dreams with a hot shower and several cups of coffee. Sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window at a bright beautiful day, she found herself wondering what it would be like to never go out and about during the day. When the vampires slept, was it truly like death? Did they look like corpses, or merely like they were sleeping? What did Saintcrow look like? And why was she so obsessed with finding out? Was it because he didn’t want her to? Still, if she was going to spend the rest of her life with him, then she wanted to know everything about him, including what he looked like when the sun was up and he was dead to the world. No pun intended, she thought with a grin.

Tonight, she would remind him he had promised there would be no secrets between them, then ask him to leave the door to his lair open.

After breakfast, she drove to Marti’s to see if she’d like to go to lunch and a movie later that day. Marti suggested they ask Rosemary and the others and make a day of it.

“Why don’t you go invite the others?” Kadie suggested. “I’ll make some sandwiches and a cake and meet you all at the restaurant at noon.”

“Great idea,” Marti said. “After I invite everyone, I’ll see what I can do about decorations, and we will have an unofficial celebration.”





Kadie had just finished frosting a cake when the other women arrived. Marti had decorated the restaurant while Kadie fixed lunch. She had pushed two tables together and covered them with a bright yellow cloth. A vase held a bouquet of wildflowers. She had set the table with silverware instead of the plastic forks they sometimes used.

All the women were there, except Frankie.

“I invited her,” Marti said, “but she wouldn’t come.”

“I wish we could convince her to spend time with us.” Shirley shook her head. “She’s so alone.”

“I know,” Kadie said. “I never see her unless it’s in the tavern.”

“I think she feels at home with the vampires because she can communicate with them. They can talk to her and read her answers in her mind.”

“Maybe we should have invited the men,” Kadie remarked.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. We really can’t indulge in girl talk when they’re here. These sandwiches are delicious, Kadie.”

“Thanks, Chelsea. It’s just tuna with a little pickle and celery.”

Rosemary smiled at Kadie. “This was a wonderful idea.”

“We should party more often,” Pauline said. “Maybe it would make the days go by faster.”

“Sounds good to me,” Marti agreed. “Sometimes I get so bored, I could scream.”

“I’d like to drive a stake into the heart of every vampire here!” Rosemary said, her expression fierce. “I hate them all!”

“They’re not that bad,” Chelsea said. “I mean, they do take good care of us.”

Rosemary scowled at her.

“Well, it’s true. We each have a house of our own, and nice clothes, and food to eat, and . . .”

“We’re slaves!” Hands fisted on her hips, Rosemary glared at Chelsea. “I don’t care if they decked us out in furs and built us mansions and hired servants to wait on us, we’d still be slaves.” She looked at Kadie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the mood.”

“It’s all right,” Kadie said. “I understand how you feel. We’d all like to go home.” But even as she spoke the words, she wondered if she really felt that way. If it meant never seeing Saintcrow again, would she leave Morgan Creek?





“So, how was lunch?” Saintcrow asked later that evening.

“It was fun, I guess. Rosemary is very bitter about . . . well, about everything. She’s been here a long time. Why don’t you let her go?”

“Would that please you?”

“Yes.”

He considered it a moment. He knew Kadie was attracted to him, but he wanted more than that. He wanted her love. All of it. Perhaps letting the woman Rosemary go would be a step in that direction. “Very well. I will take her away tonight, when the others are asleep. But you are not to tell them she’s been freed.”

“What should I say?”

“Nothing. Let them think what they will.”

“All right. Could I ask another favor?”

“You can ask.” Although it wasn’t necessary. He already knew what she wanted.

“I want to see you during the day.”

“Why?”

“You see me when I’m asleep.”

“It’s hardly the same thing,” he said dryly.

“Fair is fair. Besides, you promised there’d be no more secrets between us.”

“This isn’t a secret.”

“Please, Rylan?”

The use of his first name, so sweet on her lips, was his undoing. “Very well. I will leave the door to my lair open tomorrow. But there’s a price.”

“Oh?” She knew what it would be, felt her whole body come alive in anticipation.

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly that.”

She forgot everything when he drew her into his arms, everything but the wonder and the magic of his touch, the intoxication of his kisses, the sting of his fangs that should have been painful but filled her with sensual pleasure.

She wrapped her arms around his neck when he carried her to her bed, her hands clumsy in their haste as she undressed him. He was so beautiful, his body perfectly formed, his belly ridged with muscle, his limbs long and lean. He watched her, his eyes hot, as she removed her own clothing, then covered his body with hers.

They fit together well, she thought, her body somehow molding to his. She ran her hands over him, loving the play of emotions on his face as her hands caressed him.

He gave her free rein until, with a growl of impatience, he tucked her beneath him.

She felt the sweet sting of his fangs at her throat as he possessed her with a fierceness he had never shown before.

“Mine.” His voice whispered in her ear, echoed off the walls. “Mine!”





In the morning, she woke slowly, reluctant to leave the dream she’d been having. Even though she knew it was only her imagination, she could almost feel his hands stroking her skin, hear his voice whispering love words in her ear.

While showering, she could think of nothing but the exquisite feel of his skin against her own, the utter pleasure of their bodies becoming one, the fire in his eyes when he brought her to completion, the way he cried her name when he reached his own.

It wasn’t until later that morning that she remembered he had agreed to let her see him while he slept. How could she have forgotten that? But then, with her mind and body still caught up in memories of the night before, maybe it was understandable.

Filled with excitement, she ran up the stairs to the turret room. The door leading down to the tunnel stood open. She smiled, grateful that she wouldn’t be trapped down there until he woke. Turning on her flashlight, she hurried down the steps toward Saintcrow’s lair at the end of the corridor.

She paused for a moment, suddenly unsure now that the moment was at hand. What if he looked like he was dead? He had been a vampire for more than nine hundred years. What if there was nothing but a skeleton in the coffin? Did she really want to see that?

Holding fast to her courage, she put her hand on the door. It was now or never.

A slight push, and the door opened into a large room. The walls were French blue, the carpet a shade darker. An antique mahogany wardrobe stood against the wall to the left. An old-fashioned four-poster bed with velvet hangings stood against the wall across from the door. There was nothing else in the room.

Was he in the bed? Weren’t vampires supposed to sleep in coffins?

Taking a deep breath, she approached the bed and drew the velvet aside.

Saintcrow slept on his back, one arm at his side, the other across his waist. A sheet covered him from the waist down, his chest was bare. His skin looked paler than usual. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t breathing. In repose, his face was still beautiful.

Did she dare touch him? Unable to resist, she laid her hand ever so lightly on his chest. His skin was cool, as were his lips when she traced them with her fingertips.

Was he naked beneath the sheet?

A little voice in the back of her mind urged her to peek, but she shook it off. It seemed a huge violation of his privacy.

She stayed a moment more, her curiosity urging her to peek into the wardrobe. After a brief battle with her conscience, she tiptoed out of the room. The door closed behind her.

Heart pounding, she ran up the stairs to the turret room, then made her way to the living room.

Sitting on the sofa, she tried to absorb what had just happened. It occurred to her that he must trust her a great deal to let her see him when he was helpless. What if she had brought the others with her? They could have killed him while he slept. She had no doubt that Claude Cooper would take Saintcrow’s head without a second thought.

Suddenly restless, she went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was past time for lunch. And there was nothing to eat.

She grabbed the keys to the Corvette, making a mental grocery list as she unlocked the front door. She frowned when it wouldn’t open. Was the lock jammed? She turned it this way and that. Nothing happened.

The back door wouldn’t open, either. Neither would any of the windows.

So much for trust, she thought darkly. Did he really think she would betray him?

That she would tell the others where he slept? That she would invite them inside so they could destroy him?

He didn’t trust her.

The idea hurt more than she would have thought possible.





She was waiting for him in the living room when the sun went down. One look at her face, at the way her arms were crossed over her chest, and he knew she was upset. He didn’t have to read her mind to know why.

“It isn’t a matter of trust, exactly,” he said.

“Then what is it, exactly?”

“I haven’t existed for over nine hundred years by being careless. None of the other humans in this town know where my lair is located. You wanted to see me at rest, and I let you. But to leave the door to my lair open during the day . . . ?” He shook his head. “I’m not that trusting.”

“You trusted me. Why? I could have stabbed you while you slept, just like anyone else.”

“I was willing to take my chances with you, but not with any of the others.”

Somewhat mollified, she asked, “Can I go with you when you take Rosemary away?”

“If you like.”

“Will you take her home?”

“If that’s where she wants to go, although I’m sure she’ll find it and everything else greatly changed after so many years.”

Kadie nodded. Rosemary’s husband had probably declared her dead after all this time. Her children would be grown now, probably married with kids of their own. Her husband could have remarried and had another family. How would Rosemary handle something like that? Kadie frowned. What would she do in a similar situation? How would she feel? How would she pick up her life on the outside after such an extended absence? The world had changed a lot in the twenty years Rosemary had been here.

“Maybe we should give her a choice,” Kadie suggested. “Maybe, after all this time, she’d rather stay.”

“And if she chooses to stay, then what?”

Kadie considered his question a moment. Of all the women in Morgan Creek, Marti had been there the shortest amount of time and had the youngest child. But of all the people in town, Marti was her favorite.

Shaking off her selfishness, Kadie said, “I think instead of Rosemary, you should let Marti go. She has a six-year-old daughter.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”



At midnight, Kadie and Saintcrow drove to Marti’s house in Kadie’s Durango. “Wait in the car,” Saintcrow said. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned moments later, carrying a pajama-clad Marti in his arms. She was sound asleep, and remained asleep when he laid her on the backseat and shut the door.

“Remember,” he said, sliding behind the wheel and putting the car in gear, “you can’t tell anyone about this.” His gaze met hers. “I’ll know if you do.”

Kadie nodded.

They reached the bridge a short time later. She felt a sudden apprehension as he drove across, but the Durango emerged onto the road without the slightest hesitation.

“How do you know where she lives?” Kadie asked.

“Driver’s license.”

“Oh. Aren’t you afraid she’ll tell people about you and the others?”

“No. I’ll wipe the last five years from her mind. She won’t remember anything.”

Kadie stared at Saintcrow in amazement. She would never want to be a vampire. Their lifestyle was repugnant at best, but she couldn’t help being in awe of his preternatural powers and abilities.

She gazed out the window, wondering about the other women and the lives they had left behind. They rarely spoke of their families. She supposed it was just too painful to think about people you loved when you were never going to see them again.

Kadie felt herself dozing off when Saintcrow pulled over to the curb. After shutting off the engine, he got out of the car and lifted Marti out of the backseat. Kadie stepped out onto the curb, then glanced up and down the street, wondering which house was Marti’s.

“Do you want to tell her good-bye?” Saintcrow asked.

When Kadie nodded, Saintcrow spoke quietly to Marti, who woke instantly. She glanced at Saintcrow, her eyes wide with fear as he set her on her feet, until Kadie said, “Marti, it’s all right. We’re taking you home.”

“What?” She glanced around, her eyes filled with confusion. “Why am I here?”

“Kadie convinced me to let you go,” Saintcrow answered. “Come on.” Holding Marti’s arm, he started walking toward the corner.

Kadie followed the two of them as they turned the corner, then came to a stop in the middle of the block in front of a single-story, ranch-style house on a well-kept street. A pink bicycle lay on its side in the front yard. A rope swing hung from the branch of a tall oak tree.

Saintcrow released Marti’s arm and stood back, giving the two women a little space.

“Marti, I’m going to miss you so much,” Kadie said, blinking back her tears. “Thank you for making my days in Morgan Creek easier to bear.”

Fighting tears of her own, Marti said, “How can I ever thank you?” She glanced at the house. “What if Brad doesn’t want me anymore?”

“He hasn’t remarried,” Saintcrow said. “He still loves you. Now say your good-byes. It’s getting late.”

Kadie hugged Marti. “Be happy.”

“Thank you so much. I don’t know how you did this, but I’ll never forget you.”

Kadie wiped her eyes. “Yes, you will,” she said, overcome by a wave of sadness as Saintcrow captured Marti’s gaze with his. She felt a rush of preternatural power whisper over her skin.

A moment later, Marti was on the front porch and Kadie and Saintcrow had darted out of sight around the side of the house.

Marti glanced around, looking confused, then rang the bell.

A few minutes later, the porch light came on and a man clad in a navy blue bathrobe stood in the open doorway. For a minute, he simply stared at Marti. Then, with a wordless cry, he threw his arms around her. “Marti! Thank God, you’re back. Where have you been all this time?” He looked past her, his gaze sweeping up and down the sidewalk.

“I don’t know,” Marti said. “The last thing I remember is going for a walk . . .”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brad said, pulling her into the house. “All that matters is you’re home. Teresa!” he called, his voice filled with happy tears. “Teresa, wake up! Mommy’s home!”

Kadie wiped the tears from her eyes as she followed Saintcrow back to her car.

She was pensive on the ride home. Rosemary was wrong, she thought. All vampires weren’t monsters. No monster would have done what Saintcrow had done tonight. She would never forget the look of surprise on Brad’s face, the joy in his voice. She only wished she could have seen Marti reunited with her daughter.

“That was a wonderful thing you did,” she said at last. “Thank you.”

“It was a wonderful thing you did,” he replied, sliding a glance in her direction. “I know Marti was your favorite. You spent a lot of time with her. I know you’ll miss her more than you would any of the others.”

Kadie didn’t deny it. She would miss Marti dreadfully, but it had been the right thing to do. Once she had thought it through, Kadie had realized there was nothing for Rosemary to go back to, while Marti’s life was still waiting for her.

Kadie smiled inwardly. She couldn’t remember when she had felt so good. Was Saintcrow feeling good about it, too?

She studied his profile, thinking again how handsome he was. Maybe, if she played her cards rights, she would be able to convince him to let some of the other women go, as well.