With his bright red hair, pencil-thin mustache, and flamboyant clothing, Saul looked less like one of the Undead than any vampire Erik had ever met.
"Maybe so," Rhys said, "but the Blood Thief has tagged one of mine." He glanced at Tina and smiled. "And I've promised to avenge her."
Erik grunted softly. "If she'd made a more secure lair, it wouldn't be necessary."
"She's young," Rhys retorted.
"Another mistake like that, and she won't get any older," Erik retorted.
"Enough, you two!" Mariah said impatiently. "This isn't getting us anywhere. The demand for our blood is spreading. I've heard there are others like the Blood Thief in Chicago, New Orleans, and St. Louis, and who knows where else. They're invading our lairs, taking our blood, and in some cases, heads."
"We need to retaliate!" Damon said, his voice rising with excitement. "Take out a few hunters."
"I agree, let's shed some blood!" Julius spoke up for the first time. "We haven't had a good rumble in years." He pumped his arm in the air, displaying the red and black snake tattoo that seemed to slither down his left arm.
That was Julius's answer to everything, Erik thought, but then, it wasn't surprising. A former drug dealer, Julius Romano had been turned when he was twenty-three. With his short brown hair and mild brown eyes, he had often passed himself off as a high school kid when looking for new customers. Now that he was a vampire, he still preyed on the young and the innocent--the younger the better.
Rhys snorted. "Taking hunters out is sometimes easier said than done. And from what Tina told me, the Blood Thief didn't leave so much as a footprint behind. No scent, nothing."
Rupert shrugged. "Maybe Tina imagined the whole thing."
"I did not!" Tina exclaimed hotly.
Erik crossed his arms over his chest. It was almost eleven. If Daisy had gone to the Crypt, she had surely left by now. "This isn't getting us anywhere," he muttered. "I'm going home."
"Erik..." Rhys spoke mildly, but the warning was there, just the same.
But Erik wasn't listening. Moving with preternatural speed, he left Costain's house. Impatience, anger, and disappointment intensified his hunger and he preyed on the first lone mortal he encountered.
Later, strolling toward home, he told himself it was just as well that there had been a council meeting that night. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a mortal female like Daisy O'Donnell.
Chapter 5
Daisy went hunting the next afternoon. Driving through the city, she tried not to think about Erik, but the more she tried to put him out of her mind, the more firmly entrenched he became. She couldn't help wondering why he hadn't showed up. He didn't have a job, so he hadn't been working late. Maybe he had just decided she wasn't his cup of tea. Maybe he had arrived at the Crypt before nine and found someone he found more appealing. Or maybe he had lied about being married and his wife wouldn't let him out of the house.
She spent two hours driving up one street and down another, and at the end of that time, she had nothing to show for it. She glanced at the compass again. The needle remained gold, unmoving. Muttering, "Oh, well, you can't win them all," she turned the car around and drove into town. After picking up her mail at the post office, she had a quick lunch at the coffee shop, and then, on impulse, she decided to treat herself to a manicure and a facial before going home.
She felt better, inside and out, when she left the salon. There was nothing like a little pampering to chase away the blues.
Later, at home, she couldn't seem to settle down. She wandered through the house, her thoughts constantly turning toward Erik. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. Like it or not, his image seemed indelibly imprinted on her mind. Where was he now? Why hadn't he shown up?
"Stop it," she muttered. "You're not the first woman in this century to be stood up, and you won't be the last." But it hurt just the same.
She ate dinner, then turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. It must have been down-with-love night, because every movie channel featured ill-fated lovers, from Dracula and Mina to Heathcliff and Cathy.
With a wordless cry of frustration, Daisy tossed the remote on the coffee table. Drumming her fingers on the arm of the sofa, she glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o'clock. Was he at the Crypt, hoping she would show up? Maybe he had a good explanation for last night. Maybe he would have called if she had given him her number.
Chiding herself for being a hopeless fool, she grabbed her handbag and her keys and headed out the door.
The Crypt didn't do much business on a Monday night. Daisy sat at a table in the back of the room, an untouched margarita in one hand. There were perhaps a dozen people at the bar. The dance floor was empty. Three young men were shooting pool. Two women shared a table near Daisy's. The younger of the two was pouring out her heart to her friend. From what Daisy could overhear, the younger woman had just discovered her husband was being unfaithful.
Maybe Mr. Right didn't exist for anyone. Well, except for Jennifer, who was off on her honeymoon and, according to her last letter, having the time of her life with the love of her life. But who knew how long that would last? These days, some marriages were over almost before they began. Daisy sighed. If there was a Mr. Right in her future, she certainly wasn't going to find him in a place like this.
She glanced at her drink, still untouched, and decided she didn't need it. What she needed was to go to Boston and visit her family. Her parents had their differences and their disagreements, but they had managed to survive thirty-five years of married life without killing each other. Maybe that was the best you could hope for. Maybe she would take her mom's advice and go out with Kevin O'Reilly. And maybe she wouldn't.
And maybe it was time to call it a night. It was almost eleven.
She was reaching for her handbag when there was a subtle change in the atmosphere in the room. Even before she saw him walking toward her, Daisy knew Erik had entered the Crypt.
She clutched her handbag. Seeing him, she felt suddenly foolish. Why had she come here? He would know she had come here looking for him. How pathetic was that? Why hadn't she stayed home where she belonged, and let him come to her, if he had a mind to?
She would have fled, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. And then it was too late.
"Daisy."
Just her name, but hearing it on his lips made her stomach curl with pleasure. "Erik." She pressed her handbag to her chest. "I was just leaving."
"So soon?"
She shrugged. "It's late."
"Not really." His gaze moved over her, warming every place it rested. "At least give me one dance."
"There's no music." The band didn't play on Monday or Tuesday nights.
"There's always music when you're around," he murmured.
Daisy frowned as a slow ballad emanated from the jukebox. How had that happened? No one had put any money in the machine.
"One dance?" Erik coaxed.
She knew it was a mistake, but she couldn't resist the thought of being in his arms again. "All right, maybe just one." She dropped her handbag on the table, then let him lead her onto the empty dance floor.
"I'm sorry about last night," he murmured as he took her into his arms.
With a sigh, Daisy melted into his embrace. Later, she would demand to know why he had stood her up, but not now. Now all she wanted was to forget everything else and enjoy being close to him. But a little nagging voice in the back of her mind had other ideas.
"Where were you last night?" The words slipped past her lips before she could call them back.
"At a business meeting."
"Really?" she said, her voice frosty. "I didn't know men who didn't work had meetings."
"It wasn't work related. Simply a meeting of an...an organization I'm heavily involved in."
"What kind of organization?"
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
She frowned at him. "Very funny." Irritated, she tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her waist. "Let me go."
"No. I'd tell you if I could, but I really can't talk about it. I'm sorry about last night. Believe me, I'd much rather have been here, with you. Forgive me?"
She wanted to hang on to her anger, but how could she when he was looking at her like that? He had the most expressive eyes, deep and black, with thick lashes that any woman would envy.
He smiled a slow, sexy smile. "I knew you couldn't stay mad at me." The music ended, but he didn't let her go. She felt a little silly standing there in the middle of the dance floor, swaying back and forth when the music had stopped.
"How about that date?" he asked, "now that you know me better?"
"I don't know."
"Still a little angry about last night?"
"Maybe."
He blew out a sigh. "Will you meet me here tomorrow night?"
"I don't know. Will you show up this time?"
"I promise." Bending down, he kissed the tip of her nose. "I didn't promise last time."
"All right. I'll give you one more chance."
"What time will you be here?"
"Eight thirty."
He nodded. "Eight thirty. Tomorrow night," he said with a grin. "It's a date."
Daisy woke Tuesday morning with a smile on her face. She told herself not to get too excited. Just because he had promised to show up didn't mean he would. But she couldn't stop smiling.
She showered and dressed, made her bed, ate a quick breakfast, read her e-mail, and left the house, her mind filled with thoughts of Erik.
Daisy had been driving around the north side for almost an hour when she realized that the only lairs her compass was leading her to were houses or hideouts she had already visited. The same held true for the east side. Since she hated to visit the same lair more than two or three times, she decided it was time to widen her net. Up until now, she had avoided the slums on the south side, and the upscale west side, but that was about to change. She had orders to fill.
