“Then stay with me. Don’t go.” She wanted to wake beside him. He made her feel safe—loved. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “I’m sorry. When I return we must talk about the future.” Annie didn’t like the tone of his voice. It didn’t have the lift of joy one would have expected when entertaining a future with someone. It almost sounded as if it was something he dreaded to discuss.

  In silence they walked back to the car. She climbed in and started the engine as he opened the passenger door and crammed himself inside. The ride back to the motel put her on edge. The awkward moment confused Annie. What kind of job did he have that would drag him away in the wee hours of the morning? As she pulled into a parking place, the motel’s neon sign greeted them, blinking off and on. Switching off the car, she didn’t hesitate in getting out and heading for her room. Etienne pulled the card-key out of his pocket, inserted it into the slot and opened the door, holding it open for her to pass.

  When she turned around to confront him about the anxious signals he was giving her, he swathed her in a big hug and captured her mouth. He held on to her tightly. His kiss and his actions disturbed her. It was like a soldier leaving the woman he loved, not knowing if he would ever return. Not a simple goodnight kiss until he returned the following evening.

  Warning bells went off in Annie’s head. Her first thought—he isn’t coming back.

  “Please stay with me.” Her plea was a desperate cry.

  “I wish I could.” She heard the longing in his voice, but something wasn’t right. She felt it deep in her bones. Annie recalled Velia’s words, Choices will have to be made and made quickly. Were they perched on a pinnacle? The wrong turn would send one of them in a different direction, the other off the cliff.

  As he released her, the pulse in her neck jumped. She touched the spot, felt the heat beneath her palm.

  Again he flashed a look of apology. Without another word, he opened the door and walked out.

  Annie was confused. She turned toward the bed, slipping her sandals off and brushing the excess sand off her feet. She was too tired for a bath. With a jerk, she pulled her dress over her head, tossing the garment on the chair before she climbed into bed.

  As soon as her head touched the pillow she felt an unusual heaviness press against her eyes. This time she knew it was Etienne. He was stronger than anything she could imagine. She whispered his name as sleep stole over her.

  In the shadows of the night, Etienne stared toward the window where Annie slept. She had not even fought his compulsion. So lost within her thoughts, he had taken her unaware.

  “Dammit,” he cursed. He had unsuccessfully masked his sorrow for what tomorrow would bring. The time had come for him to reveal his true nature to her. He closed his eyes.

  Would she join him in a life of darkness or would their time together be ended?

  Slowly, he turned and walked away.

  Chapter Seven

  It was noon. The sun bursting through the windows was too bright, making Annie squint. With watery eyes, she moved through the convenience store. She bumped into a man who shot her a nasty look.

  “Sorry,” she apologized, as he made a disparaging remark, something about women and not watching where they walked.

  She gazed around the store, aisles and aisles of stuff. What exactly was she here for?

  Oh yeah. Aspirin. She reached out and selected a brand.

  She had the mother of all headaches, brought on by a night of tossing and turning after she had been woken by Velia’s restlessness. The medium had remained quiet, but Annie could sense her anxiety. Annie got the feeling it was the calm before the storm. When she finally slipped back to sleep, nightmares had plagued her.

  She couldn’t remember how many times she saw Etienne standing in the shadows, then turning and walking away. Her stepfather had been there too, jumping out from every corner—every shadow.

  Instead of the strong, loving hands she had become familiar with, Clyde’s hands had been upon her. A tremor assailed her with the thought.

  The night had been hellish. Velia would wake her, then Etienne would compel her to sleep. It was a battle she couldn’t win.

  Annie fumbled with the plastic wrap around the aspirin container. Instead of fingers, she felt like she had all thumbs. Her hands shook as she ripped the cap off and dumped two pills in her palm, before popping them in between her lips. She tried to swallow, but her dry mouth stopped them from going down. They wedged cruelly in her throat. She coughed, and then gagged, trying to suck in a breath.

  Desperately, she looked around for anything to wash down the medicine. Rushing over to the coolers, she jerked open the door and in the process dropped the aspirins to scatter across the floor.

  “Shit,” she wheezed, reaching for a Coke.

  “You’ll have to pay for those,” the young clerk said as he looked at the mess she created.

  Annie ignored him, twisting the lid off the soft drink and pressing the bottle to her lips. She released a sigh as the cool liquid quenched her thirst and flushed the pills down her throat.

  When her gaze rose to meet the agitated clerk’s, she snapped, “Yeah. I know.” She didn’t bother to apologize for her sharp remark. Instead, she bent to pick up the bottle, leaving the aspirin scattered about, as she made her way to the cashier.

  She heard the clerk’s huff of disbelief but chose once again to ignore him.

  The woman at the cashier gave Annie a strange look as she handed her the Coke and empty bottle of aspirin. Still she rang them up. “Do you want a sack?”

  Annie dug in her pants pocket and handed the woman a ten. “No.” She accepted the change, grabbed the soda and headed for the door.

  Her head was pounding. Her eyes and head hurt. She couldn’t wait for this day to come to an end. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but she knew it would be useless. She shared her head with two other entities that couldn’t come to an agreement.

  In a daze, she walked along the two-lane street thinking about Etienne, wondering how long before her headache would disappear. Suddenly, she was jerked off her feet, landing hard against a barrel chest.

  A scream bubbled in her throat, but was silenced by a palm across her mouth. The scent of cigarettes was overwhelming. She knew that bitter smell, knew immediately that her stepfather had found her once again.

  As she was dragged kicking and fighting behind the store, she bit down on the finger closest to her teeth.

  “Fuck.” Clyde released her, only to swing her around so that they faced each other. Red-hot agony burst inside her head at the abrupt blow delivered across her cheek. Eyes closed, she fought for consciousness. The light behind her eyelids faded in and out. She could taste blood, the coppery scent strong.

  Instinctively, she raised her arms in a pitiful attempt to ward off the attack. The result was a fist to her stomach, doubling her over. Gasping, she fell to her knees. She barely felt that pain over the one throbbing in her head.

  Before she could suck in a breath, his fingers curled in her hair. She felt his anger, his strength down to the roots as he jerked her back to her feet like a rag doll.

  She balled her fists and swung, attempting to fight him—free herself. But it was no use.

  “Bitch, you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” The sour smell of his panting made her stomach pitch. An acidy taste crawled up her throat.

  She couldn’t see through the haze her mind had become and the tears blurring her vision. But she felt the pressure against her throat as everything went dark.

  Etienne roared. The ground shook around him.

  The couple standing above his lair screamed “Earthquake”, as they scattered in opposite directions.

  It wasn’t nature’s forces breaking and shifting rock beneath the surface, but his fury. He fought the need to rise—to go to Annie. But it would be his death if he rose too early. Then how would he help her?

  He should have converted her last night. But his honor had stopped him. Guilt and desire had clashed. The need for her to choose him, his lifestyle, had won.

  Again he set the earth to shaking. The rumbling drowned out Annie’s cries, but did nothing to mask the pain and fear he knew she felt at the hands of her stepfather.

  It was only mere minutes, but it seemed as if time ticked by so slowly. It crawled across his skin like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He attempted to touch her mind, but he sensed she was out cold.

  He would kill the sonofabitch.

  Anger rose hot, settling thick in his blood. His canines pulsed with the need to rip out the bastard’s throat. He would die. Etienne would not be merciful.

  Then his thoughts went back to Annie.

  Had she known her stepfather was near? Had her internal warnings been activated to wake and pull her out of each of his compulsions? And where had the headache come from? He knew she suffered. Had he played a part in it? If he hadn’t tried to force her compliance would she be waiting for him safe in her room? Instead, she was in the clutches of the very man Etienne had promised would never touch her. He had failed.

  When consciousness found her, he used mind-control to send her back to sleep. Instead of the inner struggle he had fought within her earlier, his compulsion was welcomed. He only prayed that it would be enough to divert the bastard’s attention.

  Hours ticked by and with each minute Etienne became more agitated. Damn his life of darkness, and for the first time he cursed Meryell. She had made him weak, while Annie made him strong—strong enough to want to live and love again.

  When he heard Annie whimper, knew she was stirring, he couldn’t wait any longer. He burst from the ground. His sudden presence scared the shit out of two joggers who stumbled over their feet, fleeing like spooked horses.

  The sun was hot, burning his skin. The rising of blisters filling with fluid and the smell of burnt hair and flesh was nothing. Even the hunger gnawing at his belly didn’t stop him as he soared into the sky. Only one person would feed him tonight—and then that man would die.

  Annie woke with the taste of blood in her mouth. Her eyes wouldn’t focus in the dimly lit room. A mere slice of light filtered through the drawn curtains as they fluttered from the air conditioner humming below them. The smell of antiseptic was strong. And there was something else, the pungent smell of cigarettes.

  “Where am I?” The raw, scratchy voice wasn’t hers, but she felt each word scrape her throat. She tried to look around, but pain exploding in her head made her wince. The jerky movement wrenched a moan and a gasp from her.

  Something was wrong. She hurt all over. Then she remembered Clyde and her abduction.

  Through the pounding in her ears she dragged in a breath. Wherever she was, she had to get out of there and fast before he returned. Carefully, she attempted to pull herself into a sitting position, but she couldn’t move.

  Her chest tightened.

  Panic rose quickly to the surface, sending her pulse into a chaotic frenzy. She jerked her hands and kicked her feet but it was useless. To her disbelief, she lay spread-eagled on a bed. Her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts with ropes that cut into her skin.

  “Nooooooo…” Her desperate cry rang throughout the room. She fell quiet as the doorknob rattled. Without a second thought she closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

  The door made an evil squeak as it opened.

  “I know you’re awake,” Clyde laughed, the hoarse chuckle of a man who has smoked for many years. “Did you think you could sleep the entire day away?” A thump sounded against what she assumed was the table. “The sooner we come to an agreement, the happier we’ll both be.”

  Happy? For who?

  Was she ever going to feel happiness again? She thought of Etienne. Her eyes grew moist as she peeked through wet lashes.

  Clyde stood by a small table. He reached into a brown paper sack and extracted what appeared to be beer. As he twisted the cap, it made a hissing sound. He took a long swig from the bottle before placing it hard upon the table. Slowly his head dipped. She couldn’t see his beady eyes upon her, but she felt them just the same. As he began to approach, Annie’s pulse sped.

  Closer. Closer.

  The knot in her throat grew larger.

  When he reached for the lamp on the bedstand, light spilled throughout the room. She pinched her eyes closed against the brightness.

  God. Her head hurt.

  A clammy hand on her thigh forced her eyelids wide.

  She began to struggle against her bindings, as she screamed, “Stop.” Her demand was a high-pitched screech.

  But he didn’t stop.

  Slowly the corners of his mouth rose into a sadistic smirk that sent a chill up her spine. He inched his hand farther up her leg.

  As Clyde leaned over her, the smell of beer washed across her face. This wasn’t his first drink. He reeked of the putrid scent.

  “I’ve waited a long time to get my hands on you,” he slurred. “Your mother—” For a moment he seemed lost in a thought. “She was like you. But not strong,” he rambled. “Worthless.”

  The bastard was drunk. He wasn’t making sense.

  “Clyde.” Annie made her voice sound calm even though she was anything but. “What do you mean she was like me?”

  He snorted then belched. “You didn’t know?”

  His hand rested on her hip. She fought the urge to try to knock it away by struggling again, but she needed him rational, as rational as an animal like him could be.

  “Know what?” she asked.

  “They came in flashes—broken pieces. All about you. Started about a week before— Too late.” He shook his head then narrowed his bloodshot eyes on her. “Besides, you were so young. Firm ass, tits.”

  He reached for her and Annie lost it. She pulled and jerked at the ropes binding her. Brutally his fingers clawed at her breast as he pinched her chin with the other hand to still her thrashing.

  “Laurie had to die.” Spittle flew from his mouth, landing in Annie’s face.

  She froze.

  The truth behind his words broke through her tattered mind. “Y‑You killed her?” she choked, emotion building and squeezing her chest. “It wasn’t an accident?” Tears bloomed in her eyes.

  Annie felt numb. There was nothingness, before anger rushed to the surface so swiftly it was suffocating.

  “Murderer,” she croaked. This monster had stolen her mother from her. The scream of anguish she released was muffled when Clyde clasped his palm over her mouth.

  She wanted to kill him. With her bare hands she wanted to feel him take his last breath.

  “Shut up.” He violently shook the hand he held her quiet with.

  A cloud of pain engulfed her. Her vision blurred as nausea churned in her stomach. She fought to stay conscious. Clyde would pay for what he had taken from her.

  When he climbed atop her, his weight pushing her deep in the mattress, a silent shriek lodged in her throat. One hand firmly across her mouth, he used his other hand to unfasten her pants. She bucked beneath him. Ignoring the pain, she jerked her arms and legs, the rope digging deeper into her flesh. Her head pounded like war drums.

  Etienne! His name was a cry of help upon her tongue.

  Like an avenging angel he appeared out of thin air. Or was it her imagination? Was she seeing what she needed to?

  When he lifted Clyde’s heavy form, tossing him across the room to crash into the wall, Annie knew she wasn’t dreaming. Yet what she saw didn’t make sense.

  Eyes wide and wild, Etienne’s irises were like flickering fire beneath glass. His flesh, nearly the same coloring, sported raw, raised patches of skin across his arms and chest, blisters that oozed a watery substance. He wore no shirt, no shoes, only black jeans, and his hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in days.

  Clyde groaned. He moved slowly, using the table he barely missed to pull himself to his feet.

  Etienne’s glare snapped to the man’s bulky frame. The next thing Annie saw made her blood run cold. Etienne’s canines elongated, crimson marking them as he opened his mouth, releasing a hissing sound that wasn’t human. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He shook with a fury Annie had never seen before.

  Clyde’s eyes gaped with a look of panic. He appeared paralyzed, until Etienne took a step toward him. He burst into action, lunging for the table. When he rose, Annie saw the knife in his hand.

  Etienne moved so quickly, Annie couldn’t comprehend what happened. The next thing she saw was Clyde lying in a listless heap upon the floor. His eyes were devoid of expression. His throat was bloody and mangled.

  Etienne stood over him, heaving with each breath he took. In his hand was the knife Clyde had held. Strangely the blade was clean, free of evidence that had been used to silence the bastard.

  And then Etienne turned around.

  A stream of blood dripped from his fangs. Clyde’s vital fluids were sprayed across Etienne’s chest and covered his hands. The scene was something out of a horror movie.

  The knife fell from his hands, making a clinking sound as it hit the floor. As he approached, Annie didn’t move—couldn’t.

  What was he? Not human that was for sure.

  “Annie,” he slurred her name. In disbelief she watched his canines disappear. “I’m going to untie you.” He took a cautious step, then another.

  The fire in his eyes had vanished. The blisters across his body were beginning to scab and heal. A breeze rustled through the room, even though no window was open, cleansing him of the blood that had once stained his body and hands. A long-sleeved shirt materialized to cover him. The wind was like fingers combing his dark hair.

  He worked quickly to untie her, making sure they didn’t touch.

  When a loud bang sounded, Annie startled.

  “Police. Open up.” A voice demanded behind the door.

  Calmly Etienne walked to the door. Before he opened it wide, the television switched on to a channel involving a chase scene.