"I loved him," Alex said between sobs. "I don't think I ever told him."
"You didn't have to say it. Brandon knew."
"I need to talk to him, tell him I'm sorry that I let him down."
"We'll go to the cemetery together, after this is over, all right?"
"Yeah." Somewhat embarrassed, Alex turned his back to her. Pulling a handkerchief out of his back pocket, he blew his nose. "I'm sorry, Daisy Mae, I didn't mean to...to...you know."
"I know. Why don't you get a few hours' sleep? I'll make up the sofa for you."
Daisy sat in the chair across from the sofa, watching her brother sleep. Every now and then, he mumbled something incoherent. Once, she caught Brandon's name. Alex had been so strong since the funeral, comforting everyone in the family, helping her parents get through the first few weeks of grief when it seemed none of them would ever smile again, finding humor where none existed. She should have known he was hurting inside, tearing himself apart because of what had happened to Brandon. As the oldest, Alex had always seen himself as the defender of his younger siblings. He had believed that he was invincible, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, to protect them against anything and everything. No wonder he felt he had failed.
With a sigh, Daisy glanced at her watch. It was almost five. She should wake Alex. Erik would be rising soon, and Rhys, too.
The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than Erik appeared in the doorway.
Daisy eyed him appreciatively. Clad in a black T-shirt, khaki slacks, and black cowboy boots, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and sexy.
He lifted one brow, a wry smile curving his lips as he walked toward her. She had no doubt that he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Bending down, he kissed her lightly. "Good evening, love."
Daisy grinned, thinking he sounded just like Dracula.
Erik glanced at Alex, snoring softly on the sofa.
"Did you hear what he said?" Daisy asked.
Erik nodded, then sat down on the floor beside her chair. "Do you think we can count on him?"
"I don't know. I hope so."
"It might be best if Rhys and I do this alone."
"Or I could take Alex's place."
"No!"
"You need someone to make the initial contact," Daisy said. "Someone he won't suspect."
"We've already had this discussion. I won't put your life in danger."
"My life's been in danger since I was eighteen years old," Daisy retorted.
"Be that as it may, I want you to stay here. I don't want to be worrying about you when this goes down."
"You know who it is, don't you?"
"I have a pretty good idea."
Daisy leaned forward. "Does Rhys know?"
"I'll tell you what Rhys knows," Costain said, coming into the room. "He knows he's sick and tired of being cooped up."
Erik shook his head. "Is that right? Try spending a few days in that dungeon of yours."
"Yeah, yeah, I said I was sorry," Rhys muttered, pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. "I need a drink."
Daisy froze as Costain stopped pacing to stare at her.
Rising smoothly to his feet, Erik moved to stand in front of Daisy. "Forget it."
"I have some wine, if that will help," Daisy said, disliking the tremor in her voice.
Rhys snorted with derision.
Daisy shrugged. "Take it or leave it, but that's all I'm offering."
"Fine, I'll take it. Some hostess," Rhys muttered after Daisy went into the kitchen. "Doesn't keep anything on hand for her guests."
"I don't think she was expecting you," Erik remarked.
"Yeah, well, I'm just edgy from being cooped up." Rhys spun around when, with a low groan, Alex sat up, stretching.
"What are you looking at?" Alex asked.
"Dinner?" Rhys asked hopefully.
Alex sprang to his feet. "No way!"
"Whatever happened to hospitality?" Rhys complained.
"It went the way of the cassette tape and the phonograph," Erik said with a grin. "Hell's bells, suck it up, Costain. You're whining like a week-old fledgling who hasn't fed yet."
"Maybe you're right." Rhys smiled at Daisy as she offered him a crystal glass of red liquid. "My thanks, dear lady."
"You're welcome."
"Well," Alex said, "it's dinnertime and I'm hungry. Daisy?"
"I could eat."
"Yeah." Rhys looked at Daisy, his gaze lingering on the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat. "Me, too."
"Rhys." The warning was clear in Erik's tone.
"Come on, Alex, I'll help you fix dinner," Daisy said, and made a hasty retreat into the kitchen.
Rhys laughed softly as he watched Daisy hurry out of the room. "Is she as tasty as she looks?"
"You'll never know," Erik replied. "Not as long as I draw breath."
Dinner was over, the dishes were done, and Daisy was a nervous wreck. She sat on the sofa in the living room, pretending to watch TV, while Erik, Alex, and Rhys sat in the kitchen formulating a plan for the midnight meet. From what little she could overhear, their plan was ridiculously simple. Alex would show up for the meet. Erik and Rhys would stay out of sight until the deal was made, and then Rhys would take control of the situation. Apparently Erik's only function was to act as backup for Rhys.
In theory, it sounded simple enough, but doubts plagued Daisy. What if the one offering the reward didn't come alone? What if something happened to Alex? How would she explain it to her parents? They would never forgive her if he was injured or, worse, killed. She would never forgive herself.
She glanced at the clock, certain it must be near midnight. It was only a quarter after nine. She had never known time to pass so slowly!
At nine thirty, the meeting in the kitchen broke up. Rising, Daisy grabbed Erik by the hand and gave it a tug.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Yes. No. I just need some time alone with you."
"Sounds good to me," he said, smiling. "What did you have in mind?"
She looked at him as if he wasn't too bright. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice pitched low so that only he could hear.
"Ah." Erik glanced over his shoulder.
Rhys stood in the kitchen doorway, his arms folded over his chest, a knowing look in his eyes. Alex glowered at him from in front of the fireplace.
Chuckling softly, Erik looked back at Daisy. "I'm yours to command."
Alex swore long and loud as he watched Daisy lead Erik up the stairs to her bedroom. If he was going to be totally honest with himself, Delacourt wasn't such a bad guy, all things considered. He treated Daisy with respect. If Daisy was to be believed, Delacourt had saved his life. But still...it just wasn't right!
"It bothers you," Costain said, "the two of them?"
"Damn right!" Unable to stand still, he began to pace the floor. He glanced upward. It didn't take a genius to figure out why it was so quiet up there. It made him sick to his stomach to think about what Daisy was doing, and who she was doing it with.
Rhys grinned as he took a place on the sofa, one arm resting along the back. "He's a good man."
"He's not a man at all. And neither are you."
"No?" Rhys shrugged. "I would wager I'm as much a man as you are. More, perhaps."
"All right, then. He's not human," Alex amended, his voice gruff. "And neither are you."
Rhys laughed out loud. "Mortals!"
"Jealous?"
"Hardly," Rhys said with a huff. "We are superior to you in every way. In another hundred years, I'll be more powerful than I am now, and still making love to beautiful women. Where will you be?"
Faced with his own mortality, Alex dropped into a chair. He had hunted vampires. He had killed vampires. But he had never really talked to one. Never tried to understand them. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair. "You really like being a vampire?"
Rhys grunted softly. Mortals were so predictable. They always asked the same questions, as if there were no more to being a vampire than blood and death. "Yes," he said. "I like being a vampire."
"So, drinking blood? Killing innocents? None of that bothers you?"
"Blood is a necessity. Killing is a choice. A choice you've also made."
"It's not the same. You can't kill something that's already dead."
"You're judging a way of life for which you have no experience. You have no idea what it's like, to have the strength of twenty men, to be able to transform into mist, to move faster than the human eye can follow, to scale a building or leap a barrier with no effort at all, to cross the country with a thought, to see and hear and touch the world in ways that mortals can never know. You don't know how addicting that power can be."
Alex stared at Costain, mesmerized by his voice, by the picture he had painted. Maybe being a vampire wasn't such a bad thing after all. To always be young, powerful, in control.
Rhys smiled faintly. "The thought of being a vampire no longer seems so repellant, does it?"
"Of course it does!" Alex exclaimed, but they were just empty words, and Rhys knew it.
"You're a hunter. You've killed my kind. Have you never tasted our blood?"
"Of course not!" Alex said adamantly, and even as he denied it, he heard Daisy's voice in the back of his mind. Erik saved your life. He had never asked how, never let himself dwell on it, until now. Had Erik given him his blood? Even as the thought rose in his mind, he was afraid the answer was yes.
"Never been curious?" Rhys asked.
"Sure, I've wondered. They say it gives you a high like no other, that it lets you experience, for a short time, what it's like to be a vampire."
