her, she gulped down a can of root beer. It helped but only a little. Tossing the empty container into the trash, she wondered why she was so thirsty. And why the side of her neck tingled. And why she couldn’t remember what had happened between the time she’d left Sally’s Boutique and the moment she’d slid behind the wheel of her hot-pink VW.
Brow furrowed, she padded into the living room and sank down on the sofa, a throw pillow clutched to her chest as she tried to remember that missing half hour. Was she losing her mind? Developing Alzheimer’s? Had she suffered a stroke? Been kidnapped by aliens? She had never experienced any memory loss before. At least she didn’t think she had. But how was she to know? Feeling suddenly tense, she went into the bathroom and filled the tub, thinking a warm bath might help her relax.
Later, submerged to her shoulders in lavender-scented bubbles, she closed her eyes.
A tall man dressed all in black. Deep, dark eyes that captured hers. Strong arms holding her close. A faint prick in the side of her neck. A sudden sense of warmth that permeated her whole being . . .
Callie bolted upright with a start, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as she glanced around the room, her heart pounding as the memory of what had happened that night flooded her mind.
The man had bitten her!
* * *
In his lair on the other side of the city, Quill’s head snapped up as the woman he had preyed upon earlier woke to the realization of what had happened to her in the alley. How was that even possible? He had wiped the memory from her mind. He frowned into the darkness. No one had ever resisted his compulsion to forget. How had this female managed to do so?
Rising, he paced the floor of his lair as he considered his options. There were really only two. He could drain her dry or he could wipe the recollection from her mind again and hope this time the memory stayed submerged.
Killing her was the best solution. He hadn’t existed this long by being careless. Not only would it solve his problem, but it would allow him to taste her again, something he had been desperately wanting to do since the first crimson drop had slid over his tongue.
It had been decades since he had taken a human life to preserve his own existence. But sometimes, like now, it was necessary.
Tomorrow night, he would seek her out and do what had to be done.
* * *
Quill rose with the setting of the sun, showered and dressed, then left his lair. Opening his preternatural senses, he pinpointed the scent of the woman and followed it to a small, single-story house on a narrow street. Lights shone behind the windows. A faint breeze stirred the wind chimes on the front porch.
Veiling himself in shadow, he settled down to wait.
Hours passed. Like all predators, he had the patience of Job.
Focusing his attention on the house, he heard the woman moving from room to room, smelled the fried chicken she cooked for dinner, heard the voice of a local news anchor as he reported the events of the day. At eight, she switched to a movie channel. At ten, she fixed a cup of hot chocolate.
Shortly thereafter, she bathed and went to bed.
Thwarted, Quill stared at the front door. He was the most powerful creature on earth, yet something as flimsy as a threshold had the power to repel him.
Cursing softly, he willed himself to the next town in search of prey.
The woman had been lucky tonight, he mused. But, sooner or later, she would leave the safety of her home. And when she did, he would be waiting.
* * *
Callie woke late on Sunday morning, unsettled by the fact that she had dreamed of the dark-haired man in the long, black coat again. He had invaded her dreams the night before, too, although that one had been more like a nightmare, filled with gruesome images of bodies drained of blood and hideous eyes as red as hellfire. And always the man in the long, black coat had been there, lurking just out of sight. Who was he? And what did her dreams mean?
Recalling what had happened Friday night had kept her in the house all day Saturday. Was she going to hide inside today, too? And what was she really hiding from? Some memory that couldn’t possibly be real? A dream that made no sense? Nightmares couldn’t hurt you.
She lifted a hand to her neck, felt an odd tingle in her fingertips. Had he really bitten her? Or had she imagined the whole incident?
Moving to the bedroom window, she parted the curtains and glanced outside. It was a beautiful morning, the sky a clear bright blue. A lovely day for a walk, she decided. And maybe lunch at her favorite hamburger stand and an early movie.
* * *
Callie had planned to be home well before dark. Not because she was afraid, she told herself, even though she knew, deep down, that it was a lie. She was afraid. However, like the best laid plans, hers didn’t work out. She ran into her best friend, Vivian, at the movies and when it was over, Vivian insisted on going out to dinner at Tony’s Italian Restaurant. If there was one thing Callie couldn’t resist, it was Tony’s pasta. He made the best spaghetti and meatballs in the city, not to mention the world’s best garlic bread.
“So,” Vivian said, after they’d ordered, “what’s new and exciting?”
“I’m exhausted. I photographed a wedding last week. It was the biggest job I’ve ever had. Ten bridesmaids and ten ushers. Not to mention the parents of the bride and groom and their combined siblings, which ranged in age from five to twenty-five. Oh, and the aunts and uncles and grandparents, of course. Naturally, the bride wanted a picture with her mom and dad and then with her whole family. And the groom needed pictures of his whole family. The worst of it was, they wanted the photos taken in the park across from the church, which just happened to have swings and slides. Trying to keep all those kids corralled was impossible!”
“I don’t envy you, that’s for sure.”
“And then there was the reception and all the usual photos—first dance, cutting the cake, throwing the bouquet. Pictures of the guests and toasts to the bride and groom. Thankfully, I don’t have anything else scheduled for a while.” Callie didn’t really need to work, but doing so gave her a sense of purpose. Most of the time, she loved what she did, and the fact that she set her own schedule was the icing on the cake. “How are you doing?”
“Same old, same old. I’m thinking of looking for a new job.”
“Really? Why?”
“My old boss is retiring and his son is taking over.” Vivian shook her head. “You don’t need an assistant, do you?”
“Not at the moment, sorry. Are you really going to quit?”
“Probably not.” Vivian worked for Dean and Shipman, an up-and-coming software company that offered good pay and excellent benefits.
They made small talk over dinner, reminiscing about old boyfriends and all the crazy things the two of them had done in college. They’d lost touch for a while, until Viv had moved back home.
“Are you dating anyone?” Vivian asked.
“Not since Bryan.” Callie had met him at a friend’s wedding
