Night's Illusion Read online

  “Can you make it?”

  He wasn’t really asking, she thought, not in that tone of voice. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good,” he said curtly, and ended the call.

  Sliding her phone into the pocket of her robe, Cassie quickly wiped down the counter and the stove, then tossed a load of her work clothes into the washer. She grinned inwardly as she imagined Johnny doing laundry.

  She dressed quickly, made a run to the grocery store to pick up a few things, then stopped at a Chinese place for takeout.

  At home, she threw her clothes into the dryer, ate a late lunch, then wrote a note for Johnny telling him she’d been called into work four hours early, but would be home at the same time as usual.

  After getting ready, she picked up the keys to the Mustang. She had never taken it before, even though he had told it would be hers to use if she moved in with him.

  Cassie bit down on her lower lip. It was either take the car or call a cab. She added a PS to her note, advising him she’d taken his pride and joy, then went out to the garage, praying that she wouldn’t get into an accident.

  * * *

  Cassie was waiting on an elderly couple who couldn’t decide whether they wanted beer or wine when her friend Darla entered the lounge. Cassie hadn’t seen Darla since her disastrous date with Lynx.

  After turning in the couple’s order, Cassie approached her friend’s table. “What are you doing here?”

  “Have you seen Lynx?”

  Cassie went cold all over. “No, why?”

  “He’s missing. So are Brad and Fin. No one’s seen them for weeks.”

  Cassie shook her head.

  “His father’s worried about him.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks. Did you move? I stopped by your place a few days ago and someone else was living in your apartment.”

  “I had to get out of that place. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Listen, I’ve got to get back to work. Let me know if you hear anything about Lynx.”

  With a nod, Darla stood and made her way to the door.

  Cassie stared after her. What had Johnny done with the bodies of Lynx and his buddies that their remains hadn’t been found?

  * * *

  Darla met Lynx’s brother, Rico, in the parking lot behind the Winchester. “She says she hasn’t seen him.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “No. I’m sure she was lying.”

  “What do you think happened to him?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever happened to him, I don’t believe she had anything to do with it. But I think she knows who did.”

  With a nod, Rico slipped her a fifty. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  * * *

  Johnny arrived at the Winchester right on time.

  “I’m sorry I had to take your car,” Cassie said as they walked through the alley to the parking lot.

  “Why? I said you could use it.”

  “I know, but I also know how much you love it.”

  “I love you more.” Taking her hand, he kissed her palm. “I can buy another car,” he murmured. “But no one can replace you.”

  And she fell a little more in love with him.

  It wasn’t until they got home that she thought about Lynx again. “Darla came by the lounge tonight.”

  “Darla?”

  “My friend.”

  “Ah.”

  “She asked if I’d seen Lynx and I told her no.” Cassie hesitated before asking, “What did you do with them?”

  “I buried them where no one will find them.”

  “Oh.”

  “Does it bother you, what I did that night?”

  “No,” she admitted slowly. “And it bothers me that it doesn’t. Do I need to repent?”

  “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know, but shouldn’t I feel remorse for their deaths?”

  “They were going to rape you, Cassie. I read his thoughts and those of his companions. You wouldn’t have been the first woman they attacked and killed. Nor would you have been the last. Put your mind at rest. Believe me, the world is better off without their kind.”

  Cassie tried to take comfort in what Johnny said, but it still left her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter 22

  Edna Mae glanced around as she stood in front of the sandstone fireplace in Mara’s Northern California retreat. Never in her life had she been in such a luxurious place. The house was like something out of California’s Ten Most Beautiful Homes magazine. The living room was large, with plush white carpeting and dark red velvet drapery. A pair of black sofas faced each other across a rosewood coffee table. In one corner, a round ebony table polished to a high shine sat between a pair of overstuffed red velvet chairs. Several expensive-looking paintings of landscapes decorated the walls. A sword in a silver sheath hung above the mantel.

  “I can’t get over this place,” James said, slipping his arm around her waist. “She must be one wealthy woman.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Monroe agreed.

  “How long do you think we should stay?” Pearl wondered aloud. “I don’t feel very safe here. It’s all so . . . so open.”

  “Mara said it was warded against intruders, so I’m sure we’re safe enough,” Edna Mae murmured, though she had doubts of her own. There were windows everywhere, not to mention the balcony with its double glass doors. Still, if Mara couldn’t protect them, no one could. “What do you think, James?”

  “I think. . . .” His voice trailed off when Pearl let out a gasp.

  “What is it?” Edna Mae asked, alarmed by Pearl’s stricken expression.

  Holding out her cell phone, Pearl said, “Edna, look at this!”

  Edna Mae peered over her friend’s shoulder and let out a gasp of her own. “Oh, no!”

  “What is it?” James asked, concerned by the stunned expression on her face.

  “It’s a news story. Our café burned down. The motel, too. A number of guests were found in the ashes.”

  “All those poor people,” Pearl murmured. “What are we going to do?”

  “Nothing,” James said adamantly. “Unless you want to go back and face the police and their endless questions. None of us can afford to have them snooping into our pasts.”

  “True,” Edna Mae agreed. “Good thing we bought the place under assumed names.”

  Monroe nodded. “What the hell do you think happened?”

  “My guess is that vampire Alric happened,” Edna Mae said, a tremor in her voice. “He obviously went to Transylvania and knows that we lied to him.”

  Chapter 23

  Sitting at the breakfast table late the next morning, Cassie thought about Johnny’s proposal. She weighed the pros and cons for over an hour, wondering if she should listen to her head or follow her heart.

  Pouring another cup of coffee, she picked up her phone and read her horoscope. The decision you make today will change your life forever. She laughed softly. If only it had told her whether that decision should be yes or no. And then she sobered. She was twenty-six years old, barely making enough money to provide for herself. Unmarried. She had several failed relationships and one disastrous one behind her.

  And then there was Johnny. He treated her with love and respect, made no demands on her. He was kind. Generous. And sweet.

  And a vampire.

  She hadn’t had any luck with mortal men, Cassie mused. Maybe it was time to try something different.

  * * *

  Johnny frowned as he materialized in the living room. Dozens of candles cast a warm glow on the walls. Soft music filled the air. A bottle of red wine and a pair of crystal goblets waited on the coffee table. “Cassie?”

  “Welcome home.”

  He turned at the sound of her voice, let out a wolf whistle when he saw her standing in the doorway, her hair framing her face like a golden halo.

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked.
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  She wore a V-neck white sweater and a pair of slinky red pants. A matching flower adorned her hair. Perching on the edge of the sofa, Cassie patted the cushion beside her. “Come here. I have something to tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  “You asked me to marry you and I’ve decided to give you my answer.”

  He nodded, wondering if the wine was to soothe a no or celebrate a yes.

  “If you haven’t changed your mind, I’d love to be your wife.”

  “Cassie!” Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, he drew her into his arms. “I swear I’ll make you happy all the days of your life,” he murmured. “I’ll do everything in my power to make your every wish come true.”

  “I love you, Johnny.”

  “I love you,” he murmured. “And I’ve never said that to any other woman.”

  “I’m glad I got to be the first.”

  “Cassie, how did I survive so long without you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “But you’ll never be alone again.”

  He hugged her close, wishing that was true. In time, she would go the way of all the earth and he would be left behind, heart-broken and empty. Shaking off his morbid thoughts, he kissed her. She was young and healthy. The good Lord willing, she had many years ahead of her.

  He kissed her again, amazed that he could hold her and caress her, that she didn’t find him lacking, that she responded enthusiastically to his kisses. She seemed as eager as was he to hold and be held. A miracle, indeed.

  He had waited centuries for this woman, but it had been worth the wait.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry I have to go to work tonight,” Cassie said as he pulled up in front of the Winchester.

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “I would have called in sick, but we’re already short-handed.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. “See you later.” After opening the door, she stepped out of the car and waved at him. He winked at her as he pulled away from the curb.

  Cassie stood there a moment, staring after him, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky. She was about to enter the lounge when someone called her name. Turning, she came face-to-face with two men wearing well-worn jeans and black leather jackets. One held a gun. Before she could scream, the second man was on her, one hand covering her mouth while he dragged her into the alley beside the Winchester and into the parking lot behind the building.

  A third man waited by a black Chevy. When they emerged from the alley, he opened the rear door and the guy holding Cassie pushed her inside, before climbing in after her.

  Cassie scrambled across the back seat, her hand reaching for the door handle, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her backward.

  She screamed as the car lurched forward.

  * * *

  Shaking uncontrollably, Cassie huddled in the corner. The next ten minutes passed by too slowly and at the same time, all too fast.

  Her mouth went dry when the car pulled up in front of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. There were no other houses or buildings in sight. The streetlight on the corner was broken.

  Her heart pounded like a runaway freight train as the men dragged her out of the car and hustled her into the warehouse.

  She flinched when the door closed behind her. There was a flash of light as someone lit a lantern. She stared at the three men. One of them looked vaguely familiar. “What . . . what do you want?” she stammered, so scared she could hardly speak.

  The man who looked familiar said, “I want to know what happened to Lynx.”

  Fear congealed in the pit of Cassie’s stomach at the sound of his name. “Who . . . who are you?”

  “His brother, Rico. Where is he? You know, don’t you?” he growled, his voice thick with menace.

  She shook her head vigorously.

  Taking a step forward, he slapped her across the face.

  Cassie reeled back from the force of the blow, one hand pressed to her cheek.

  “Don’t lie to me, you slut. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I swear I don’t know.”

  “I tried to do this the easy way,” he warned. “Now we’ll do it the hard way.”

  She let out a wordless cry when he pulled a small dagger from inside his boot. “I don’t know!” she wailed. “Please, believe me!”

  “Tony, Max, hold her!”

  Cassie kicked and flailed as the men grabbed her arms, but she was no match for them. They easily caught her and held her between them. She tried to scream for help, but her throat was dust-dry. This can’t be happening, she thought. But it was. Unable to look away, she watched as Rico’s blade opened a long, narrow gash from her right elbow to her wrist. She stared at the bright red blood welling from the shallow wound. The pain was worse than anything she had ever known.

  She went cold all over when Rico took hold of her other arm. Knowing what was coming, she began to struggle anew, sobbed, “No, don’t,” when he laid the knife against her skin and dragged it down her left arm.

  The sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears as the world began to spin, dragging her down into oblivion.

  Her last conscious thought was that it was too bad Johnny wasn’t there to lap up the blood.

  * * *

  Giovanni frowned when he sensed Cassie was in danger, bolted upright in the chair when her screams reverberated in his mind. Springing to his feet, he opened the link between them. Fear lanced through him when he felt her pain, her terror, heard her cry out again.

  Summoning his preternatural power, he stormed out of the house, his senses focused on the blood link that bound them together.

  * * *

  It took him only seconds to hone in on her whereabouts—an abandoned building on the outskirts of town. A thin sliver of light emanated from inside. Moving silent as a shadow, Giovanni dissolved into mist and drifted through the crack beneath the door. There were three men huddled together inside, speaking in hushed tones. Cassie lay on the floor, curled into a fetal position, bleeding from long, shallow cuts on both arms. Her left cheek bore the unmistakable imprint of a man’s hand. A dead man, he thought.

  Rage engulfed him, blinding him to everything but the need to kill the men who had caused his woman pain. And shed her blood.

  Quiet as a wraith, he resumed his own form. A breath blew out the lantern, plunging the building into total darkness.

  “Who’s there?” one of the men demanded.

  “What the hell?” another exclaimed.

  He moved through them like a scythe, cutting then down one by one, relishing their cries of fear, their screams of terror as he broke the neck of one, crushed the spine of another, sank his fangs into the third and drank his fill before ending his life.

  Tossing the empty husk across the room, he ran to Cassie’s side.

  * * *

  Cassie cowered on the floor, the pain of her wounds forgotten as she listened to the cries, pleas, and screams that echoed off the walls. She couldn’t see anything, but every cry seemed worse than the last. The coppery scent of blood filled the air and she knew it wasn’t all hers.

  She let out a harsh cry of fear and denial when hands touched her.

  “Cassie, don’t be afraid. It’s me. Johnny.”

  “Johnny!” She sobbed with relief when he stood, lifting her into his arms, cradling her to his chest.

  “Hang on, cara mia. I’m taking you home.”

  She clung to him as the world began to spin. Before she could fathom what was happening, they were in his kitchen.

  Johnny set her on the counter, then let the faucet run until the sink filled with warm water. Soaking a rag, he washed the blood from her arms and then, to her shock, he licked the wounds. The bleeding stopped immediately and the pain was gone.

  She looked at him, her gaze searching his. “Why didn’t you lick up the blood?”

  He shook his he
ad. “You’re not prey, Cassie. I never want to feed off you.”

  “But you drank from me before.”

  “That’s not the same thing.” Slipping one arm around her waist, he said, “Thank the Lord that I did, or I wouldn’t have been able to find you so fast.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. Then, needing to know, she said, very quietly, “You killed them, didn’t you? All of them.”

  “Yes.”

  “One of them was Lynx’s brother. He wanted to know where Lynx was.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell them that I killed him?”

  She lifted her head. “I would never do that. They would have come after you, and . . .”

  Johnny arched one brow in amusement. “You could have saved yourself a lot of fear and pain if you’d just told them the truth,” he remarked with a wry smile. “The results would have been the same.”

  * * *

  Knowing that Cassie was upset with what had happened that night, Giovanni stayed by her side, hoping his company would ease her fears. She put on a brave front, but he knew being kidnapped and wounded had been traumatic for her, even though she tried to pretend she was fine.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I just want to forget it happened.” As if she could ever forget her terror, the memory of being cut, the agonized screams of Rico and his friends.

  He held her close, lightly stroking her hair, until she fell asleep.

  Taking her in his arms, he carried her to bed, removed her shoes, undressed her down to her bra and panties, and tucked her under the blankets. He sat there for an hour, tortured with the thought that, had he not taken her blood, he might not have found her in time. No doubt she would be better off without him, he thought. But what would he do without her?

  He was about to leave the room when she let out a cry and began thrashing about under the covers.

  “Cassie.” He shook her gently, but she was trapped in a nightmare. “Cassie! Wake up.”

  She lashed out at him. “No! No!”

  “Cassie, shh, it’s me.” He shook her again, more roughly this time.