The third rider . . . holy cow. His hair glowed. Glowed like a black opal. He appeared considerably younger than the other two, maybe no more than early twenties, and he, at least, watched her with something approaching sympathy. Which meant she probably needed it.
Oh, she was in trouble.
“You’re a pretty one,” the dark-skinned swordsmen said, then suddenly . . . literally . . . disappeared off his horse. Before her jaw could drop, he reappeared an arm’s length in front of her.
Elizabeth jumped back with a squeak, nearly dropping her latte. Her entire body began to quake.
The man threw his head back with a look of such pleasure that she wondered what kind of drug he was on. Or what he was imagining doing to her. Her breath lodged in her throat, and she started to back away. The nicker of a horse at her back reminded her there were three of them, and she was going nowhere.
“I think I’ll claim you for my own, pretty one,” the male in front of her said, his head straightening, dark lashes sweeping up to reveal . . .
The Starbucks finally slipped through her fingers, but she barely noticed, barely heard the splat or felt the splash of liquid against her pant legs as she stared at his eyes . . . dark eyes now centered with a perfect white circle, a white pupil.
Her shock apparently pleased him, for he grinned, revealing long, sharp incisors. Fangs.
Her breath left her altogether. “Who are you?” she gasped, her voice quavering like a twelve-year-old boy’s in the presence of a twelve-year-old girl. “What is this place?”
The man’s smile widened, his look of pleasure deepening, his fangs growing longer still.
“I’m your new master, pretty one. And this place? Washington, V.C. Vamp City.”
Chapter Five
“VAMP . . . ?” ELIZABETH STARED at the man with the white-pupiled eyes. And the fangs. “As in vampire?” Her voice shot up, nearly to a squeak.
This isn’t happening. Vampires aren’t real. Everyone knows they’re not real.
Suddenly, an arm snaked around her from behind, pinning her back against a hard chest. The brush of beard against her hair told her which of the other two had her.
Elizabeth struggled against his iron hold, his arm pressing so hard against her shoulders she gasped with pain. “You’re hurting me.” But he didn’t seem to care.
The pierced man’s white-pupiled eyes lit with fury. “Mine,” he snarled.
“I say she isn’t,” the man at her back growled. “But I’m willing to share. Let me take the first bite.”
Bite? Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face and was almost glad for the arm restraining her because without it, she feared her knees were going to fail her.
The hoofbeats of another horse caught her attention.
“Hold!” The voice, not the youth’s, called from a short distance. A voice that sounded wonderfully, achingly familiar, as if she’d conjured it up in this desperate moment.
A tiny flare of hope had her head snapping up as the fourth horseman approached, deep in the twilight shadows. All she could make out was a form big enough and broad-shouldered enough to be Lukas’s. As he drew closer, she could tell the hair was a little longer, in need of a haircut. Logic told her it wasn’t he, it couldn’t be. Her agitated mind was merely attempting to overlay his image on the male who approached, the image of a savior. A hero.
It wasn’t Lukas.
But as he drew closer, and she finally saw the strong jaw and high cheekbones of the face that had haunted her for two years, her knees gave way.
“Lukas,” she gasped.
How was this possible?
He was dressed in a black shirt and tan pants, the same as the other pair, two swords strapped to his back, their hilts rising from behind his shoulders like wings.
The man she loved pulled his horse to a stop beside the male with the pierced face and stared at her with an expression she’d never seen, his mouth hard, his eyes at once cool as frost and angry as hell.
Her heart began to shatter.
“I’ve been searching for you, Elizabeth,” he snapped.
Her eyes narrowed with confusion. “What? Here?”
“No way,” the male at her back exclaimed, tightening his hold on her until she cried out with the pain shooting through her chest and shoulders. “You’re not claiming her, Lukas. She came in on the sunbeam, and don’t try to deny it—she’s got Starbucks. She didn’t get that in Vamp City.”
“She was my slave in the real world,” Lukas said smoothly. Slave? “I expected her to find her way to me before this.”
“She’s not your slave.”
“She knows my name, doesn’t she?” His expression was so hard. Cold blue eyes pinned her. “Are you mine?”
She stared at him, her heart thundering. Yes, she’d been his. The old Lukas’s. She did not know this man.
“You left me.” The words came out unbidden, as raw as the pain in her heart.
For a swift second, she thought she saw that pain mirrored in his eyes, but a moment later, he stared at her once more through hard, blue crystals.
“Are you mine?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, master,” he snapped.
This was not the man she knew. Yet at the very first sight of him, her heart had begun, very slowly, to unfurl, to blossom, and it continued to do so.
Her heart was an idiot.
“I saw her first,” the pierced male grumbled. “I should at least get a taste of her.”
Lukas swung down off his horse far slower than the bearded man had, his movements deliberate, threatening. And she didn’t think the show was for her.
“Release her.” Lukas’s gaze pinned the man at her back. “No one touches what is mine.”
In the blink of an eye, the arm across her shoulders disappeared. In the blink of another, Lukas was beside her, his hand gripping her upper arm. Too fast. Either she was suffering some kind of head trauma, or they were moving too damned fast.
Her head felt suddenly full of helium, and she began to sway. Lukas swept her up as if she weighed nothing, and she grabbed at her purse as it slipped off her shoulder. He strode to his horse, deposited her on its back, and swung up behind her.
As his arm slipped around her waist, as he pulled her back against the chest she’d once loved so much, she finally found herself in the one place she’d longed to be for two years. Once more in Lukas’s arms.
But instead of the joyous reunion she’d imagined, she was shaking with shock. And fear. Lukas Olsson was not the man she’d thought he was.
She wasn’t certain he was a man at all.
Chapter Six
“BACK TO OUR search,” Lukas commanded, as if he was the leader of this bunch. “We don’t want to be anywhere near this block if the sunbeam breaks through again.”
The two males who’d threatened her mounted, and the four horsemen started down the road, Lukas in front, Elizabeth snug against his chest.
She was so confused, her mind a tangle of conflicting emotions. She was furious, and hurt, and terrified. And yet her heart refused to be silent as it rejoiced that she’d found Lukas at last. Part of her wanted to turn around and kiss him senseless; another part wanted to punch him in the mouth. And the biggest part wanted to leap off the horse and run like crazy.
The arm pinning her ensured she did none of those things. All she could do was pray that the man she’d fallen in love with—the kind, loving Lukas who’d been so good to her—hadn’t been a complete lie, that he was still in there somewhere. Whatever soft feelings he might have once felt toward her might be her only chance of survival.
“Do you really think we’re going to find the sorceress all the way out here?” Pierced-face grumbled. “We’re in f**king nowhere Georgetown. No one’s lived here in decades.”
So they really were in Georgetown? In what dimension?
“Which would make it the perfect place to hide,” the bearded one countered. “We’ve already flushed a dozen runaways out of hiding. We could still get lucky.” The lurid tone in his voice sent another chill down Elizabeth’s spine.
They took a right on . . . M Street? It would be M Street if this really were Georgetown. The streets were definitely laid out the same, but the buildings weren’t right. Not at all. What happened to the colorful row houses that were the hallmark of Georgetown?
She stared around in consternation. What was this place?
They rode another block before Lukas pulled up. He dismounted, then turned to her, his back to his companions. As his gaze caught hers, emotion flared in those once-beloved blue eyes—anger and dismay, and something more. Something softer. Something that gave her hope that the man she’d loved wasn’t entirely gone.
Her breath turned shallow.
Breaking eye contact, he pulled her off the horse and set her on her feet beside him. “Give me your purse.” When she did, he stuffed it into one of his saddlebags.
“Spread out,” Lukas commanded. The two older males each headed for a different deserted, crumbling house along the street. The kid with the glowing hair accompanied the pierced one. Lukas took her wrist as if she were a difficult student in need of a chat with the principal and led her across the street toward what appeared to have been some kind of general store.
Once upon a time, he’d have taken her hand, lacing his cool fingers between hers. The thought flared with new meaning, with fresh understanding. He’d always been cool to the touch—his hands, his face, even his body, though he’d always assured her he didn’t feel cold.
No wonder he’d only ever come to her after dark. Vampires couldn’t handle sunlight.
Dear God.
Memories continued to cascade through her mind—the way he was always gone by morning. Always. The marks on her neck. . .
Her fingers rose, her flesh going cold, as she remembered how she’d often . . . always? . . . awakened with a couple of red spots on the side of her neck when she was dating him. They usually faded by noon, then reappeared the next morning. She’d never figured out what they were. Then Lukas had disappeared and, with him, the spots.
Bite marks?
How could any of this be real?
Lukas tried to open the door, but it was locked. Without a moment’s hesitation, he lifted a foot and kicked in the door as if it were made of cardboard. He ushered her into a room that, in the dim light, did appear to have once been a store though the goods had long since been removed.
None too gently, Lukas pulled her around the corner and pushed her back against the wall, staring down at her with a look as different from the one he’d given her on the street as a look could be. The coldness, the hardness, fell away like a mask. The longing in his expression almost brought tears to her eyes, and suddenly he was kissing her as if it had been hours since he’d last seen her and not two years, as if they’d met one another at the theater and not this . . . this godforsaken place.
As if he weren’t a vampire.
Turning her head, Elizabeth broke the kiss. “Stop,” she gasped. “I don’t even know you.”
Cool, gentle fingers gripped her chin, turning her back to face him. “You know me, Lizzy. I haven’t changed.”
“You’re a vampire!” Did she really say that out loud? “When, Lukas? When did you become a vampire?”
“Centuries ago.”
Her head dropped back against the wall with a thud. “The least you could do is laugh at me and tell me there’s no such thing.”
Cool fingers slid into her hair, caressing her scalp. “I’m sorry, Lizzy-mine. You should never have found out this way. I never wanted you to know at all.”
She pushed away from the wall, from him, her mind awhirl. Centuries ago. He’d been turned centuries ago. All this time, she’d thought he was human. She’d thought he was falling in love with her, as she’d fallen in love with him. A vampire.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Reaching out blindly, she touched his arm, felt his hand close around hers, and she snatched it back, pulling away. “You bit me. When we were dating, you bit me.” She turned back to him slowly, his face faintly illuminated in the twilight from the back window.
He smiled, but in his eyes she saw only regret. “Your blood was sweet. And you loved it, Lizzy girl. You came and came and came when I sucked on your neck like that.”
Speechless, she stared at him. “God.” Her cheeks turned to flame. “Why don’t I remember any of it?”
“I took your memories. Only the ones that would damn me.” His eyes pleaded with her to understand. “I never hurt you. I would never hurt you, my Lizzy.” He reached for her, but she jerked her hands out of his reach and stepped back.
“Don’t. I’m not your Lizzy. I’m not your anything.” The heat in her cheeks deepened, not from embarrassment now but from utter humiliation. She’d thought he loved her, when all she’d been to him was food.
At the sound of footsteps outside, Lukas moved between her and the door.
The pierced one poked his head in through the doorway. “I’m hungry.”
Lukas scowled. “You have your own slave.”
“I’ve been sharing with you. I think it’s time you returned the favor.”
“And I think you should get back to work.” Lukas turned and started walking toward the stairs. “Come, Elizabeth,” he snapped, holding out a hand for her.
She glanced at the hungry eyes of the other vampire and flew to Lukas’s side, sliding her hand into his, gladly. His cool fingers closed around hers, and he led her up the stairs, warning her to watch her step. As one of the stairs splintered and crumbled beneath her foot, he pulled her clear as if she weighed nothing.
Finally, at the top of the stairs, he released her hand. “Wait here.” Then he disappeared, or moved away from her so quickly that he might as well have. She sensed rather than saw him dart in and out of the upstairs rooms. And then he was back at her side, his strong hand once more closing protectively around her own.