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One hour. Marina looked at her watch again to be
sure of the time. She'd sat in her car, unmoving, for one hour.
Huge boulders covered both lanes of the narrow road.
A highway crew worked with shovels and large machinery to move the
boulders, but it had soon become apparent that it would take more than a
few minutes to clear the road. She'd turned off her car's engine after ten
minutes to conserve gas. Now cold, hungry, and in need of a bathroom, she
cursed her sister for insisting Marina visit instead of the other way
around. Marina and Ginger could be dining on fresh seafood on the San
Francisco waterfront right now. No, Ginger had wanted Marina to come to
her place north of Pollock Pines. "What's Christmas without snow?" Ginger
had said Sunday when she'd called Marina.
Ginger could have the snow. Marina would be
satisfied to never see the white stuff for the rest of her life.
She'd caved in to her older sister's request, as
usual. So here she sat, five days before Christmas, waiting for the road
to be cleared so she could continue up the mountain. A snowstorm was due
before nightfall, a doozy according to the weather reports. Marina did not
want to be stuck on this road when it started snowing. After living in San
Francisco most of her adult life, she could navigate the rain-slick, hilly
roads with no problem. Icy or snowy roads were another matter.
The dusting of snowflakes on her windshield made the
decision for her. She had to leave. Now.
There were five cars between her and the rock slide.
She couldn't tell how many were behind her, but she couldn't see an end to
the line in her rearview mirror. She thought she saw a side road about six
cars back. Where it led, she had no idea. But perhaps she could take it
and come out on this road past the slide.
Marina always left plenty of room between her and
the car in front of her when she stopped. She hated breathing the fumes
from exhaust pipes. She cranked the steering wheel hard to the left,
backed up, then cranked again. Once more and she headed the opposite
direction from the line of cars.
A sports car and pickup parted, leaving her enough
room to turn on the side road. She waved her thanks and started up the
narrow, crooked road.
The snow fell harder, the flakes getting bigger the
farther she climbed. Marina began to wonder if this was a good idea after
all. She had no idea where this road went. There were no markings, no
signs to indicate the name of the road or distances to towns. She could be
driving toward a dead end, or toward the edge of a cliff.
Not exactly a pleasant thought.
She touched her brake pedal when she came to the
fork. Marina blew out a breath as she contemplated left or right. Left
would be logical since that would take her in the direction of the main
road. At least, she thought it would. She'd taken so many twists and
turns, she wasn't sure which way was which.
Left, definitely.
That decision made, Marina continued on her journey.
The road became narrower, the trees thicker, the snow heavier. She
couldn't see farther than a few feet in front of her car.
Okay, this is stupid. You have no idea where you
are or where you're going. Call someone for help.
Calling someone would be easier if she had a signal
on her cell phone. There wasn't even the tiniest bit of a bar on the
display.
"Shit," Marina muttered.
She'd seen no signs of life, no cute winter cabins
tucked into the snow-covered trees. Surely someone lived on this road who
could help her. She couldn't imagine why there would be a road--even a
narrow, unpaved one--unless someone lived nearby.
Turning around was out of the question on the
one-lane road. She had no choice but to keep driving.
* * * * *
Tain raised his sword and easily blocked Deon's
parry. "Ha! Thought you had me that time."
"I'm only playing with you."
"Playing, hell." Lowering his sword again, he
stopped Deon's thrust. A hard push on Deon's sword with his own and his
assistant stumbled back two steps. "How's that for playing?"
"Good move, Tain."
"Well, I've had a few more years of practice than
you."
Another lunge, another parry. Tain spun and advanced
on Deon. He welcomed the physical activity, the perspiration covering his
body, the rapid beat of his heart. He felt alive when he held his
sword, when he heard the clang of metal against metal.
Deon had always been a worthy opponent, one who
never gave up despite losing most of the time. Today would be no
exception. Tain lifted his sword with both hands, determined to win this
round.
A fast turn of Deon's body, a quick twist of his
wrists, and Tain's sword clattered to the floor.
Deon removed his mask. "You're off today, Tain."
Tain looked at his sword lying on the ceramic floor.
He wasn't sure how his assistant had managed to flip it right out of his
hands. "Apparently."
"You need to feed."
"I'm all right."
"Don't try to bullshit me." He gestured at Tain's
sword. "I can't do that when you're one hundred percent. You haven't fed
in almost two weeks. That's crazy."
Tain dropped his mask on the floor by his sword. He
opened the refrigerator next to the bar and tossed Deon a bottle of water.
"I can go weeks without feeding. You know that."
"But you don't have to. You can go into town and
have a woman any time you want to. Why do you make yourself wait so long?"
Tain removed a bottle of water for himself. Twisting
off the cap, he emptied half the bottle with one drink. "I get tired of
it, Deon. The games, the coy looks, women pretending they don't want me
when I can smell their desire from twenty feet away." Crossing to the
sectional couch, he sank down in a corner of the soft leather. "I make her
come and draw strength from her orgasm. But I wish there could be more."
Deon sat on the opposite end of the couch. "You've
been looking for a mate for a long time with no luck."
Tain sighed heavily. "A woman with the Basharr
gene is so rare. I've searched for centuries. I could search for
another century and not find her."
"You aren't giving up."
"No, I will never give up, but I have to be
realistic. I've been alone for eight hundred years. The odds are high that
I'll continue to be alone."
"Hey, you have me," Deon said with a grin.
Tain chuckled. "I appreciate that, my friend, but
you don't have the curves I enjoy so much. There are gay vampires in my
family. I'm not one of them."
"Don't knock it until you try it, Tain."
"I have tried it. I prefer the curves." He drained
the rest of his water. "So, shall we go again, or should we get back to
work?"
A buzzer sounded. Deon frowned. "That's the front
gate alarm. Someone's there."
"Who would be here in this snowstorm? Are you
expecting a delivery?"
"Not today."
Deon rose and crossed to his desk. Tain followed and
watched his assistant punch on a variety of keys on his computer to bring
up the gate's camera. A small silver car came into view. Deon adjusted the
angle of the camera, zooming in on the driver. A young woman wearing a
burgundy stocking cap sat behind the wheel.
Tain's incisors began to ache.
"Well, this is convenient," Deon said. "There she
is, ripe for the picking."
"She's obviously lost."
"Lucky for you."
"Deon, I will not take advantage of a woman in
trouble."
"You won't be taking advantage of her. One look in
your eyes and she'll be putty."
"I don't--"
"Tain, you need to feed. You know that as well as I
do. It certainly won't hurt her to have four or five orgasms. She'll
probably thank you."
"She won't remember. They never remember."
"Then there's no harm. We'll help her, of course,
but she can help you while she's here."
* * * * *
Marina saw the camera shift, so knew someone watched
her. She tried to keep her expression neutral. She didn't want anyone to
know she was terrified. Alone, lost in a snowstorm, no telephone. She
could almost hear the eerie music, the song that played right before the
killer jumped out of the bushes with an ax. Or a chainsaw.
She shivered.
"May I help you?" a deep male voice asked.
Marina leaned out her window. Despite not knowing
who that voice belonged to, she had no choice but to ask for help. "Yes,
please. I took a wrong turn. There's no signal on my cell. May I use your
phone?"
"Of course. Please follow the drive to the house."
The gate with the large "R" in the middle swung
open. Tall pine trees lined the drive on both sides. Marina inched forward
in the deepening snow. She assumed a house would appear eventually,
although she saw no indication that anything existed beyond the gate.
Marina had always believed the majority of people
were good, that they would help someone if they could. She hoped her
belief held up and she wasn't heading toward a house of flesh-eating
weirdoes.
The drive arced to the right. Marina took the curve,
and gasped. A huge house came into her sight. Two stories and made of
stone, the Victorian mansion looked like something from a Gothic novel. It
was hard to tell through the falling snow and deepening dusk, but it
appeared that the house was built into the side of the rock hillside.
Ancient architecture had always fascinated her.
She'd promised herself someday she'd go to Europe so she could drool over
all the centuries-old buildings.
Marina stopped her car at the bottom of the steps
leading up to the double front doors. She turned off the motor and took a
deep breath. Time to meet the flesh-eating weirdoes.
The door opened as she was about to press the
doorbell. A man stood in the doorway.
Marina gulped.
An inch or two over six feet and dressed all in
black. His long black hair touched his shoulders. Piercing blue eyes
peered at her from beneath black eyebrows. A hint of stubble covered his
cheeks and jaw. His shirt stretched over broad shoulders, tight pants
cupped his penis.
Dayum. Nice package.
He opened the door wider. "Come in, please."
Marina jerked her attention back to his face when he
spoke to her. Heat rushed to her cheeks when she realized she'd been
staring at his fly as if she'd never seen what lay hidden behind the
zipper.
Well, it had been a while...
She stepped into the foyer and he closed the door
behind her. "I'm Tain Remington. How can I help you, Ms...."
"Black. Marina Black. I'd appreciate it if I could
use your phone."
"Of course. Follow me."
He turned left and led her into a large room. An
L-shaped mahogany desk dominated one corner. A leather sectional, tables
and lamps made a comfortable seating area in another corner. A rock
fireplace covered one wall, an entertainment center the other. Marina
didn't know whether to call it an office or den.
"My assistant's hideout," Tain said, his eyes
crinkling at the corner. "He spends a lot of time in here, so I want him
to be comfortable." He gestured toward the desk. "Help yourself to the
phone. Would you like coffee or perhaps hot tea?"
"I'd love a cup of tea."
"Hot tea it is." He smiled. "Take your time."
He closed the door behind him. Marina's knees grew
weak. She flopped down in the chair behind the desk before they gave out
on her. It'd been months since she and her boyfriend broke up, but that
didn't explain the breathless feeling, the heavy thudding of her heart.
Tain Remington was a handsome man. That shouldn't matter. Handsome men
flitted in and out of her boss's office every day. None of them made her
clit throb, her nipples peak.
She didn't think any man had ever affected her so
strongly, so quickly.
Marina picked up the telephone receiver. Four rings
later, her sister answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, it's me."
"Marina! Where are you? You should've been here by
now. I've called your cell half a dozen times."
"There was a rock slide on the highway. I thought
I'd be smart and take another road, only I got lost."
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I finally found a house. The owner
let me come in so I could call you." She looked around the room, noting
the beamed ceilings and ceramic floor. "More like a mansion, actually.
This place has to be five thousand square feet."
"Where are you?"
Marina slipped out of her coat and pulled off her
stocking cap. She fluffed her short hair with her fingers. She could only
imagine how mussed it must look. Making a fashion statement hadn't been on
her list of priorities when she dressed this morning. "I have no idea, but
I don't think I can leave." She looked out the window. The snow fell
steadily in big fluffy flakes. "The snow is too heavy."
"What are you going to do?"
"Ask Tain if I can spend the night. I don't have
another choice."
"Tain?"
"The owner. Tain Remington. He seems very nice."
"So do serial killers!"
"Ginger--"
"You can't stay there with a strange man!"
"I don't know what else I can do, sis. I can't snap
my fingers and magically transport myself to your house. I can't call a
cab. I doubt if a bus comes by Tain's house."
Ginger remained silent for several seconds. "Is
anyone else there?"
"He said he has an assistant."
"Male or female?"
"Um, he said 'he', so I'm assuming male."
"Great. Two strange men you know nothing
about."
"Look, he really does seem nice. I don't think I
have anything to worry about." Other than my randy hormones.
"Promise me something," Ginger said.
"Sure."
"You find the biggest knife in the kitchen and take
it to bed with you. All right?"
She'd promise her sister anything if it would put
Ginger's fears to rest. "All right."
"Call me every hour."
Marina sighed. "Ginger."
"Okay, you don't have to call me every hour. But at
least once more tonight and in the morning."
"That I can do. I'll talk to you later."
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