beat at his temples as the light cracked at his body like a red hot whip.
He stumbled for the trees, but they weren’t enough to shield him completely. His skin burned and sizzled and he moved deeper into the forest. Light filtered down through the branches, stabbing him at every step. The pungent scent of charred flesh clogged his nostrils and choked him. Smoke burned his eyes, blurring his vision as he glanced around, frantic for a place to hide.
Another shaft of light broke through the trees, and he dodged to the left. His foot came up against a rock and he pitched forward, landing facedown on the ground. Clawing at the ground, he pushed until he managed to lift his head. A black hole loomed in front of him.
He dug his fingers into the dirt and pulled himself forward, over sharp rocks and prickly cactus until he managed to crawl inside. He went deeper, deeper, until the light disappeared and he found himself sheltered in the dark, cool interior.
Heaven.
That’s what Garret had thought. The deep, narrow cave had been his shelter. His salvation.
But over the next several hours as the hunger had taken full control, the small space had turned into his own personal hell, a place where he’d fought a losing battle for his soul.
It was a battle that had lasted several days, as Garret remained hidden away in the cave, resisting the bloodlust and trying to come to terms with what he’d become.
Meanwhile, Viv had been back at the saloon, seducing any and every cowboy who’d walked in. Talking them into drinks. Luring them back to her room. Spreading her legs and opening her arms.
Deceiving them the way she’d deceived him.
The realization had come when he’d finally given in to the hunger and left the cave. He’d gone back to town in search of food. But before he’d sank his fangs into anyone, he’d gone to the saloon first. He’d meant to explain things to her, to beg for her help and her understanding.
But she’d already understood because she was every bit the vampire he’d become.
Even so, he’d thought that she still felt something for him. Something that went beyond the bloodlust and the need for sex.
Love.
He’d been wrong.
“I can’t be with you like this. Not now. Not ever again.”
He could still hear her voice as she’d turned her back and walked away from him.
She’d left him because he’d become a vampire who could see through her lies. A vampire who could no longer give her the sustenance she needed—the sexual energy—because he needed it for himself.
And so she’d abandoned him to find someone else to feed the beast that lived and breathed inside of her.
As for love…She hadn’t loved him, and he hadn’t really loved her. He’d been mesmerized by her, seduced by her vamp magic like any other weak human.
But he wasn’t susceptible to her now.
Even if he did have an aching hard-on.
“What do you say?” The soft voice pushed into his thoughts and pulled him back to the present. To the smoke-filled bar and the horny woman sitting next to him. “Would you, um, like to come back to my place?”
Yes.
The answer was there on the tip of his tongue despite his self-made vow. He needed her. To ease the pain inside his body, feed the hunger and fill him with a burst of energy.
He felt so tired at that moment.
So damned hungry.
His gaze hooked on the lipstick imprint on her glass again, and his chest tightened. “I’m afraid I’m a little busy right now.” He slid several bills onto the counter and reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels. “But you have a nice night, sugar.” He turned and left her staring longingly after him.
Because even more than Garret Sawyer needed to feed, suddenly he needed to forget.
The dark hair.
The true blue eyes.
The luscious body and fragrant skin.
The damned voice that echoed over and over in his head “I can’t be with you like this.”
And so he sank down at the nearest table, touched the open bottle to his lips and did what he hadn’t done since Viv Darland had walked out on him all those years ago.
He started to drink.
And he didn’t stop.
Chapter 4
“HOW’S THIS?”
“Move a little to the right,” Viv told the short, balding, forty-six-year-old man who stood behind the counter of Skull Creek’s one and only motel.
It was two hours since she’d left the Iron Horseshoe, and she was desperate for a distraction. Something to pass the time and get her mind off Garret and the anticipation bubbling inside of her.
Enter Eldin Atkins.
He was the owner of the Skull Creek Inn and, more importantly, the oldest bachelor in town. He’d inherited both the motel and his grandmother, Winona, when his parents had retired to a small fishing port on the Gulf Coast. Eldin made all the reservations and looked after Winona while she puttered around, straightening rooms and poking her nose in everyone’s business.
Or so Viv had heard from the waitress over at the diner.
Since Winona did most of her nosing around during the day when Viv had her door barricaded and her shades drawn, she’d yet to run into the old woman.
Eldin was a different story altogether.
The minute Viv had mentioned that she was a photo journalist, he’d gone above and beyond the call of duty to make her stay as memorable as possible.
He’d brought fresh towels every morning and had even upgraded her room for free. She now occupied the one and only deluxe suite with a full-size bathroom and a kitchenette.
Not that she needed the latter, but Eldin didn’t know that. He was just out to attract as much attention as possible because he’d already tried every on-line dating service in the free world, and he still hadn’t had any luck with the opposite sex.
He was hoping like hell that some poor, lonely female read the travel article, saw his picture and realized that, despite his thinning hair, introverted personality and live-in grandmother, he was a halfway decent catch.
He didn’t wear women’s underwear (not since Double Dog Dare Ya night back in the tenth grade) and he didn’t suck his teeth and—and this was the biggee—he had his own business.
Sort of.
Technically, his parents still owned the place, but
