A Girl's Guide to Vampires (Dark Ones #1)

A Girl's Guide to Vampires (Dark Ones #1) Page 4

"Are you all right? You look like you're a million miles away, and you're breathing funny. Is it your asthma? You want me to go get your inhaler?" Roxy's voice was tight with worry.

I shook my head to clear the remnants of the... there was no other word for it but vision... and pushed the glass of beer away from me with a shaky hand. I still felt sick and dizzy, but it was fading. "Sorry. No, I'm fine. Just spaced out there for a few minutes. I guess I'm not meant to be drinking alcohol anymore."

Roxy shot me a curious look, part concern, part exasperation, but said nothing further about it. She chatted to Arielle while I tried to pull myself together, tried to analyze what games my mind was playing on me. It had to be the beer, I've never been the type of person to experience anything creepy like that. Not even the ill-fated rune stone reading at the Womyn's Magick Festival had made me feel as if I were a pawn to a force I didn't understand, let alone believe. Either I was having some sort of reaction to the beer, or I was going insane. Maybe that was it, maybe I was going mad. That seemed almost a preferable fate than to thinking the vision I had was real. I licked my dry lips. I could still taste the metallic bite of blood as it flowed over my tongue and down my throat.

"What did you mean, 'latest victim'?" The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. All three women stared at me. Something Arielle had said suddenly seemed to be important. "You mentioned a couple of other women who had been to your fair, women who died afterwards, and you said one was the latest victim. What did you mean?"

"Nothing," Tanya spat. "She meant nothing. There is no connection, as the German police have proven to their satisfaction, so your accusations will serve no purpose."

I pushed the worry of my potential insanity aside, surprised by the intensity of Tanya's verbal attack. "Look, Tanya, I'm sorry if you think I'm accusing you of anything, but I'm not. I'm just curious about what Arielle said about there being more than one murder victim."

"Arielle said nothing of interest," Tanya said sullenly and stared into her beer. I pursed my lips and looked at Roxy. She shrugged. I sat back, ignoring the darkness creeping into my mind to concentrate on the bit of information Arielle had presented. I've always loved murder mysteries, and this seemed like the ideal thing to occupy my mind while I waited for the guys in the white suits to show up and take me away.

"So... there was more than one body?" I asked Arielle. As soon as the words left my lips, my mind was flooded with the immense satisfaction found in acts of dominance and conquest, the heat of another's body pressed tightly against mine, the scent of her shampoo, the silk of her skin against my mouth, warmth trickling through me, filling the icy regions, quieting the beast that howled within... I snapped my eyes open, coughing and choking to clear my mouth of the horrible substance. Blood.

He was feeding.

It was too much for me. I half stood, clutching the table for support. "I think... I think I... " A red pit opened before me. I clawed at the table to keep from falling into it.

"Joy?"

Roxy was there in an instant, her arms around me, pushing me back into the chair. "Put your head down between your knees. It'll pass in a minute."

I did as she ordered, unable to stop the trembling that racked me. My mind was shrieking, screaming with the need to know what was going on, what was wrong with me, why I was suddenly seeing things I had no desire to see, let alone believe in.

Vampire, whispered the wind. I shook my head vehemently, banging the back of my head against the underside of the table. I clutched at the sensation, welcoming the pain since it was real, not imagined. Real - I desperately needed something real.

"Joyful, you OK?"

I opened my eyes and lifted my head cautiously. Roxy was squatting next to me, applying a cold wet cloth to the back of my neck. "Geez, you scared the crap out of me. Your face went absolutely pale, and your eyes were empty like there was nothing there. Don't ever do that to me again, OK?"

"OK," I agreed, mustering a ghost of a smile.

She hugged me tightly for a moment, whispering, "Don't make me get tough with you, sister," before she pulled back.

I gave a shaky little laugh at her order as I sat up slowly. Arielle stood on my other side holding out a glass of water, the bartender next to her speaking rapidly in Czech. I swallowed a bit of the water and in German assured the man I was just fine.

"Delayed jet lag," Roxy told him. "Jet lag Delayed Looong time," she repeated louder in that weird pidgin form of English so many Americans abroad adopt.

"He's Czech, Rox, not deaf," I pointed out, wiping my face with the wet cloth before handing it back to the bartender. I sipped a bit more water while everyone drifted back to where they were sitting, just as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. I rubbed my forehead and wondered why my mind had chosen that moment to snap, and what I was going to do about piecing it back together. What I needed was some time to myself with a big gallon jug of brain super glue.

"I think you should go lie down rather than go to the GothFaire," Roxy pronounced, evidently reading what remained of my mind. "You look like death warmed over."

"Thanks a lot." I struggled to block out the feeling of danger that surged within me until it howled like the wind in a storm. I gritted my teeth as Roxy chatted on, unwilling to give in to the sensation, clutching the arms of the chair in an attempt to focus on what was real, not what my mind was generating. The wood, that was real. It was hard and smooth from years of polishing, the intricate scroll carving on the arms was deep, the edges blunted with use. I fought to control my breathing, denying the need to pant as the blackness drew closer.

He is coming, a voice whispered in my head.

There is no one! I yelled back at it. I wondered if somehow Tanya hadn't slipped me one of her hallucinogenic drugs. Maybe she put it in my beer before I came, intending on pulling a little prank. If so, I didn't appreciate it, but at least it served to comfort me in an odd way. If I was suffering the effects of a drug, I wasn't going insane. Or worse.

I grabbed at the water glass and choked back a swallow, unable to hear the conversation around me for the howling of the wind. I was surprised no one else commented on it, but a slow glance around the room confirmed that everything was normal. People chatted, laughed, smoked, and drank just as if they weren't caught in the middle of hurricane-force winds. A pleasant-faced dark-haired man in a suede coat walked through the door, pausing to greet the bartender and several of the men clumped together before accepting a glass of wine and joining a lively group. A barmaid wandered through the crowd with a tray of beers. Someone brought out a pack of cards. It was all utterly normal.

The wind rose to an unbearable volume, shrieking and screaming out words of torment and pain, but just when I thought I was going to scream myself, just when the red pit opened up before me again, all was suddenly quiet.

He had come.

"Joy? Did you hear what Arielle said? Their rune reader up and quit last week."

"Huh?" I turned my head slowly, my gaze touching each person in the room as I turned to look at the door. No one looked out of the ordinary. How could it be that no one else could feel the danger that sparked through the air?

"She says Dominic is looking for someone to take her place. You could ask him about taking on the job for a few days while they're here in Blansko. That would be so cool!"

"Dominic? Runes?"

"She's great at predicting natural disasters," Roxy bragged to Arielle.

The door burst open as she spoke, the blackness of the hall beyond untouched by the lights within the room. I froze, my breath a solid lump in my chest as I waited to see him, waited to see what horrible creature my mind had conjured up. Would he be a hunchback? Would he be twisted and maimed, with flesh hanging off him in rancid strips? Would it be something worse?

With a swirl of black material, a man stepped through the door, pausing dramatically to survey the room before sauntering forward. He had dark blond hair that curled back from a pronounced widow's peak, dark eyes, and a face so handsome it would make an angel weep. He was followed by another man, taller than the first, probably topping me a good four or five inches, also dressed in black. He wasn't particularly handsome, and he was certainly more conventionally dressed than the first, but there was something about him that held my gaze.

"There's Dominic now," Arielle said happily.

"What?" Roxy asked, her head swiveling around quickly. "Where? Oh my God, is that him, the guy in the cape? God almighty!"

I sat silent in my chair, my head reeling with the sudden absence of sound, my skin prickling with anticipation.

"Yes, that's him," Arielle confirmed. Tanya rose and started for the two men. My gaze went back to the first man. He had waited until all eyes were on him, then plucked the black cape from his shoulders, tossing it onto a coat tree before turning to smile at everyone in the room. His canines were elongated, pointed, and looked very sharp.

And they were as phony as he was, I was as sure of that as I was of my own name. Surer. Which meant, if I wasn't going mad and I hadn't been given any drugs... My eyes turned to the tall man standing in the shadow of the doorway. His face was set in grim lines, all harsh angles and planes, his eyes a curious light brown color - amber, I'd guess, although it was difficult to be sure all the way across the room. But what captivated me was the aura of quiet power and confidence that he seemed to wear as naturally as he wore his dark leather jacket and black jeans.

Vampire, the voice whispered again in my head.

"Who is the second man? Is that the other owner?" Roxy asked in an excited whisper that barely penetrated the tangle of my thoughts.

Vampire. The word was as soft as down in my mind, brushing at the edges. I tried to squelch that insidious little voice once and for all, but the problem was, he looked just like I'd always imagined one of Dante's Dark Ones: masculine, elegant, arrogant, and so sexy I wanted to rip his clothing off and do wanton things to him with a pair of chopsticks and a large bottle of olives. My thoughts snapped back from where they were wandering with an annoyed exclamation. What was I thinking? A vampire? A real vampire? He wasn't any more a vampire than his friend with the bonded teeth and phony actor's smile.

"No, Milos is away on business. He has many ventures. GothFaire is just one of them. That's Raphael. Dominic hired him after Le Havre. He's in charge of our security."

The man named Raphael watched with an unmoving face as Tanya greeted his employer. Slowly he moved forward, nodding his head when the bartender called out a greeting, accepting a large glass of beer.

Vampire.

"You can just get stuffed, because I'm not listening to you," I muttered to the voice.

"What? Did you say something?" Roxy asked.

"No."

She cocked an eyebrow at me, but quickly turned back to the two men who were dominating the room with their very presence. Or rather one man; Dominic was clearly not up to Raphael's snuff.

"So, this Raphael... is he a vampire, too?" Roxy asked Arielle.

Arielle worried her beer stein. "I'm not sure. I don't think he is, but he moves very quietly, and sometimes I have the feeling he is watching me... "

Was he or wasn't he? Only his hairdresser knows for sure. I smiled a grim little smile at my feeble joke, and tried to decide once and for all if I was A) going mad, B) having a hallucinogenic experience, or C) in the presence of something I didn't believe existed, but given my experiences of the evening, who was I to make any sort of assessment of what was real and what wasn't? I glanced back at Raphael. He was leaning against the wall next to a tall potted palm, nodding his head as the bartender chattered away. When the man moved off for a minute to fill an order, Raphael shifted, accidentally spilling half his beer into the plant. I thinned my lips. No one likes a soused vampire!

"Oh, God, he's sooo gorgeous! I just knew they'd look like that! Joy, are you looking at him?"

I mumbled that I was. Dominic and Tanya were still playing to the crowd, she simpering as he pawed her in a manner I'm sure he thought was shocking and erotic, but was really only faintly tawdry as he nibbled with those doctored teeth on her long white neck, generally hamming it up. I dismissed them as uninspiring and focused my attention on the man who had moved farther along the bar to resume his conversation with the bartender. Raphael had taken off his jacket, and the long line of his back held me spellbound as he leaned forward to speak in the bartender's ear. Like Dominic, he was also in black, but on him it looked elegant and intriguing and...

"Virile," I breathed.

"You can say that again," Roxy agreed, her eyes on Dominic.

Everyone's attention was on the show Dominic and Tanya were presenting as he suddenly whirled her into a waltz around the room, his skin paper-white in comparison to the black of his pants and silk shirt, carelessly unbuttoned to expose half his chest.

"Probably uses pancake as well. And shaves his chest," I said softly.

"You think?" Roxy asked, her eyes alight as the couple swept past us, Dominic's teeth bared for full effect. She gave a lustful sigh. "It sure does look good on him. I wonder if Miranda couldn't have got the Goddess's messages mixed up, and I was supposed to find a Dark One as my perfect man. I could go for a man like that!"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say Dominic wasn't even as remotely intriguing as his companion, let alone a vampire, but as my eyes turned back to Raphael, I was stunned to find him watching me. He held a drink nonchalantly in one hand, his head still bent to the bartender, but his strangely colored eyes were on me. Our gazes met and locked. Instantly I was swamped with emotion: rage, stifled but still an awesome force to deal with; loneliness, such great loneliness that tears came to my eyes in sympathetic response; and finally despair, great waves of it that rolled over me and sucked me under. Almost as soon as the emotion washed over me, it was gone, leaving me feeling curiously bereft if extremely confused.

"Oh, God, I'm in trouble, serious trouble," I moaned, dragging my eyes away from the man who was everything Miranda warned, and so much more. My skin tingled and burned where it was exposed, as if just his gaze had the power to scorch me.

"What's wrong? You feeling faint again?" Roxy studied me with a worried eye.

I shook my head. "No. Just suffering delusional episodes. Nothing to write home about."

She frowned. "What are you babbling about now? Are you feeling OK or aren't you? If you want me to help you up to your room, just let me know."

"I'm fine," I reassured her and flashed Arielle what was bound to be a frighteningly insane smile. "Maybe just a bit tired, but OK. Just ignore me while I have my breakdown."

She leaned back against her chair and gave me a "wait till I get you later" look. Her attention was quickly pulled to other, more interesting things when Dominic strutted over with Tanya on his arm. I wanted to turn my head to see if Raphael was coming our way, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't need any more episodes of the sympathetic whatever-it-was I felt around him.

"Roxy," I leaned across the table and hissed through my teeth as Dominic made a production of sweeping Tanya's chair with (what else) a black handkerchief.

"Huh?" She turned reluctantly to look at me. "What?"

"Is he heading this way?"

Her eyes wandered over to Dominic, who had turned to answer a question from someone at a nearby table.

"No, not him, the other one. The big one." I almost said the real one, but stopped myself in time. I did not believe in vampires.

Roxy's gaze swept the room, then settled on me. "Why do you ask?"

I tried to shrug, but my skin still felt burned. "No particular reason."

"He's tall."

"So?"

"You're tall, too."

"Did you take all your medication this morning?" I asked snidely.

She grinned. "I was just asking. I thought maybe you might have a thing for him."

Me? With a possible bloodsucking monster? "Not on your tintype, Nelly! I don't even know the guy!"

Her grin widened. "Awfully vehement, aren't you?"

"Stop it."

"OK."

She kept smiling at me. I glared at her.

"Hey, Joy?"

I decided to ignore her. I'd take just a peek, one little itty-bitty peek and see if he was still staring at me. If the burn on my skin was any sign, he was.

He wasn't. He wasn't at the bar counter, he wasn't anywhere I could see at all. Damn.

"Joy?"

I casually turned to look in the other direction. Dominic was handing out flyers to the tables nearest us, but there was no sign of a big, dark man who could potentially, if I wasn't insane or drugged, be a vampire. Vampire, my mind echoed in an extremely annoying fashion.

I decided insanity was the better choice.

"Joy!"

"What?" I snapped, looking back at her.

"He's right behind you."

I jumped back so fast I knocked the chair over, myself with it, cracking my head on the floor in the process. The last thing I remember before sinking into an inky black pool of oblivion was the group of people who gathered around to look down at me. One pair of eyes stood out from all the rest; they were amber - clear, brilliant amber.

"Unearthly," I sighed, and let the blackness claim me.

Oblivion wasn't nearly what it was cut out to be, so I made the visit a short one and regained my wits as soon as possible. Once I realized where I was, I felt a pang of homesickness for the state of unconsciousness. I did a quick survey of my body, and discovered I was sitting on the cold floor, propped up against something hard and warm. Something that breathed. Slowly I turned my head to look at who it was. Raphael's amber eyes met mine.

Vampire.

I closed my eyes, leaning into the shoulder that supported me, unable to keep from breathing in his scent. It was a heady mixture of the spicy tang of a healthy male and the faint, lingering scent of soap. Vampire or not, I couldn't help but be thankful he wasn't one of those men who liked to douse themselves in cologne and aftershave.

"Joy? Her eyes were open, weren't they?" Roxy asked. Reluctantly I started to pull away from the warm body behind me. An arm locked around my waist kept me from leaving him. The gesture warmed my heart in an odd fashion.

"Oh, good, she's awake. Arielle, you can put down that bucket of water; she's awake now."

The faces peering concernedly at me spun around until I thought I was going to throw up all over everyone. "Uh-oh, you're turning green. That's not good."

"She looks ill. Should I fetch her more water?"

"Heinrich, call the doctor. We don't want her to blame us for this accident."

"It's time to go, Dominic. Surely you can't want to stay?" The voices clamored loudly in my ears, spinning me in and out of the warm, cloying darkness that hovered over me, increasing the nausea until I was sure I was going to vomit. The arm holding me securely around my waist tightened as I clutched at it, clinging desperately to it in the hopes that the room - and my stomach - would settle down.

"I think perhaps we should give the lady some air." I turned toward the voice that cut through my nightmare. The faces around me pulled back until one came into focus. It was one of the bar patrons, a nice-looking man with high cheekbones, and dark, fathomless eyes. A wave of bile choked me as I struggled to keep it contained. I tightened my grip on the arm holding me up.

"You will feel better in a moment." The man smiled and brushed his hand across my forehead. His voice was beautiful, pitched low, but velvety in its smoothness. It wrapped around me like a soft warm cloak, comfortable and reassuring. Instantly the nausea receded and the room slowed its spinning. "You are not used to our beer. Strangers often find it too strong for their palates. I would advise you next time to try our wine."

I'd only had a sip of the beer, so I knew full well that it wasn't what was affecting me, but I found myself oddly reluctant to dispute anything the man said. I gingerly felt at the back of my head, locating a lump the size of a runty plum.

"You have a small swelling," the man reassured me, his fingers flicking lightly over the painful bump. Behind me, Raphael shifted slightly.

"Are you a doctor?" I asked the man with the silky voice.

His eyes grew black with sorrow for a moment. I wanted to reach out and take him in my arms, to comfort him and ease his pain. "I am not a doctor, although I've had some training in the healing arts. Your injury is not serious and should not trouble you beyond this night."

The pain that had been blossoming in the back of my head eased, fading with the nausea. I'd never been one to have much faith in alternative medical techniques, but I had to admit this man had an extremely soothing way about him.

"Who are you?" I couldn't help but ask. His eyes were intriguing, so expressive and full of emotion, I found myself wanting to draw closer to him, to look deeper into those eyes.

"My name is Christian," he answered, another smile teasing his lips as the voices around us rose in approbation.

Didn't anyone around here believe in using his or her surname?

"I believe it would be best if we got you off the floor and into bed," a voice rumbled in my ear. I stiffened in response. Where Christian's voice was as smooth as water sliding over sand, Raphael's was deep, slightly roughened, and set up a most amazing resonance deep within me. Weren't vampires supposed to be able to work magic with their voices and eyes? Before I could mull this over, I was hoisted up. Raphael released me, then grabbed me quickly when the room started spinning again.

"Well, at least she's not green anymore," Roxy muttered, wringing her hands. "I think you're right about getting her into bed. We're on the top floor, though, and she looks a bit shaky to me."

Raphael didn't answer, just put an arm behind my knees and scooped me up.

"Um," I said, turning my head and flinching just a bit as a hall light hit me square in the eyes. My nose brushed his cheek. I couldn't believe he was carrying me up three flights of awkwardly steep stairs, and he wasn't even breathing heavily. If it hadn't been likely he was a bloodthirsty member of the undead, I would have kissed the man.

One glossy chocolate eyebrow rose as he glanced down at me. "Um?"

"You're carrying me," I said, feeling it necessary to say something intelligent, but lacking the wits to actually pull intelligent things out of my scrambled brains. First insanity, then drugging - now I was in the arms of a man who might be a vampire, and all I could think of was how nice he smelled and how warm he was.

Of course he's warm, he just fed.

I squashed that inner voice down flat and met his amber eyes without flinching. Much.

"Yes," he agreed, his voice thrumming inside me. He had an English accent, giving his voice a richness that reminded me of antique mahogany. It was very sexy. I liked it. A lot.

"Up the stairs."

"Your room's at the top," he replied.

"But you're not puffing or straining or breaking out into a sweat."

Both eyebrows went up at that. "Should I be?"

"I'm not an inconsiderable weight," I pointed out. "Most men would balk at hefting me across a room, not to mention up three flights of stairs."

"I am not most men," he stated, turning on the first landing.

You can say that again, trembled at the edge of my tongue, but I bit it back, saying instead, "Regardless of your obviously fit state, I'm too heavy. I'll give you a hernia. If you put me down, I'll be happy to walk the rest of the way."

"You're not too heavy."

I looked at him as if he had an extra toe growing out of his ear. "What planet are you from? In case it escaped your notice, I'm six feet tall and built like a brick oven, as my mother used to say."

"I happen to think a woman's shape looks better with curves," he said blithely, looking me up and down. "Yours look good on you."

Well, stap my vitals! A man who had enough muscles to haul me around and still managed to say nice things about my overabundance of curves? If only he wasn't the walking dead, I would have proposed marriage on the spot. But the probability was that if I wasn't insane, he was what he shouldn't be, so marriage was out. Which was a shame, really, because the closer I got to him, the better he looked. He was about four inches taller than me, was broad in all those areas that men look good being broad in, had a hard, angular face and dark curly hair, but it was those eyes that snagged and held my attention. Amber, deep amber, pure and clear and flecked with gold and brown. He started up the second flight of stairs.

Vampires can mesmerize with their eyes.

"Um."

"Are we back to that again?"

I tried to look down my nose at him, not an easy thing to do when you're being carried. "I apologize for the lamentable lack of scintillating conversation, sir, but I have recently been unconscious and I find some allowances are going to have to be made."

"I see."

"For example, we haven't been introduced."

He rounded the last landing, looking faintly startled by my words. "I thought introductions went the way of eight-track tapes and laser disks."

"They're not entirely extinct," I answered. "I'm Joy Randall."

He hauled me up the last few stairs, stopping at the top to look into my eyes. "Raphael."

"Just Raphael?"

He shrugged.

"Most people have two or more names."

"Do they?"

"Yes." I waited. He looked at me with those beautiful eyes as if he were memorizing my face. I got tired of waiting for him, and decided to give him a nudge in the right direction. You'd have thought someone who'd lived for centuries would have picked up a few social skills along the way. "My middle name is Martine. I was named for my grandmother. Joy Martine Randall."

Abruptly a smile quirked at the corner of his lips. "I was named for my great-grandfather."

"Great-grandpa Raphael?"

"Griffin. My name is Raphael Griffin St. John."

"Nice to meet you, Raphael." I hazarded a smile before I realized what I was doing. Flirting with a vampire! What was next for me - French kissing a werewolf? Dirty dancing with a zombie? "For the record, I think your parents did the right thing."

I loved his eyebrows. I loved the way they zoomed up and down and were so expressive without saying a word. "Your name," I told the eyebrow arched in question. "It's different. I've never known a Raphael before. It's very romantic. Dramatic, too. I like it."

I mentally groaned to myself as the words left my lips. I was babbling. I was clinging to a man who just possibly might be undead, and I was babbling about how much I liked his name.

"It is a family tradition. All the men in our family are named either Raphael or Griffin."

"And you got both."

"Yes."

"Fun tradition," I commented. He made a little moue of distaste.

"It's on par with the other family tradition."

"Really? What's that? It doesn't involve webbed toes, does it? 'Cause if it does, I don't want to know about it."

His eyebrow arched even higher. "No webbed toes, thank you for asking. The family tradition to which I am referring is much more disconcerting: A St. John man knows the woman he will marry the first time he meets her."

I blinked at him. "Oh. That's a bit different. Men don't usually fall in love at first sight. Still, Raphael is a cool name, so I guess your family traditions aren't all bad."

"I, on the other hand, dislike the name intensely and would much prefer it if everyone just called me Bob."

"Bob?" A vampire named Bob? Was that allowed? "Bob? Why Bob?"

His shoulders moved in an elegant shrug despite the fact that he was still holding me. "Why not Bob?"

He had me there. "But Raphael's a nice name. It's exotic. It's unusual. It - "

"Sounds like it belongs to a male prostitute," he interrupted.

"Well, I think it suits you," I said as he walked down the short hallway.

He looked at me out of the corner of one of those delicious eyes. "You think I look like a man who takes money to pleasure women?"

"I think a lot of women would pay you money to give them pleasure," I said. "I know I certainly would if I had some spare cash lying around."

He stopped before my door, giving me a curious look. "I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted. Are you saying you'd like to have sex with me?"

"Well, it's not written in stone, but I have to admit that right now, with you holding me and all, it's on my list, although I should warn you that I just discovered my mind is pretty much shot, so perhaps I'm not the best judge."

He carefully set me on my feet, holding on to my waist while I waited to see if the room would stop spinning. It did.

"I believe the best course will be for me to take that statement as a compliment." His hands were warm on my waist, his fingers doing a little caressing thing that had my knees melting.

"Now I've offended you. I'm sorry. It's just that the women in my family tend to call the shots as they see them. I forget that not everyone is thrilled to hear my opinions."

His eyes glittered brightly into mine. I wanted to dive into their amber depths and bask in the warmth contained within them. "On the contrary, I find myself strangely compelled to encourage you to share your opinions."

If he weren't so damned sexy I'd have been OK, but he stood there positively smoldering with sensuality. I fought the unseemly urge to throw myself into his arms, and stepped back. "I think you'd better go. I'm liable to launch myself at your head if you don't, and you don't look like the kind of a guy who likes to be rushed into a kiss."

His eyes deepened into a look so wicked it took my breath away. "You'd be surprised at what I like."

Oh man, oh man, oh man! I stared open-mouthed at him. Fortunately, he didn't wait for a reply and took pity on my scattered wits. "Do you have your room key?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"I have it," a cheerful voice piped up behind him. "Boy, these stairs are tough on the toes. Here I come, everyone hold tight. Joy, the hotel owner wants to know if you want him to call a doctor. At least, I think that's what he said. Jeezumcrow!" Roxy stopped on the other side of Raphael and gave me the eye. "You really have taken a beating today, haven't you? You look awful. Thanks a lot, Raphael, I'll tuck her into bed. You don't mind my calling you Raphael, do you? Will you be at the fair tomorrow?"

A surge of annoyance welled up at the sight of my best friend batting her eyelashes at what was probably the only person in existence who could carry me up three flights of stairs, and still tell me he liked my curves.

I smiled my best shark smile at him, and reached behind Roxy to pinch the back of her arm.

She yelped and jerked her arm away, glaring at me. "So it's like that, is it?"

"No."

"Hrmph." She rubbed her arm as she unlocked my door.

"Thank you, Bob," I said graciously to Raphael.

"My pleasure," he replied, his eyes glittering dangerously at me.

"Bob? I thought his name was Raphael?" I allowed Roxy to drag me into my room and fuss over me, putting an ice compress against the lump that no longer ached. I lay back on the bed and let her lecture me about being more careful when we were in a country where the health care might be dicey, not to mention my stupidity in literally falling head over heels for the first dishy guy I saw.

The last bit made me sit up. "What? Are you nuts? I fell over, Roxy, I didn't go throwing myself on the man. You make it sound like I was instantly enamored of him the minute he stepped into the room."

I ignored the voice inside me that said her accusation was closer to the truth than I was willing to admit, especially if the world as I knew it had turned upside down and he was a... I clapped a mental gag over my brain and wouldn't let it say the word.

"Well, you have to admit you were interested in him. And he certainly isn't bad looking, once you get past those weird eyes."

"They aren't weird, they're beautiful," I snapped, pulling off the ice bag. "No, I don't need any aspirin; my head feels much better now."

"Fine. You rest and you'll feel shipshape in the morning. You want something to eat?" Roxy tidied up my clothes and brought me a glass of water and the book I'd tucked away in my luggage.

"No, thanks. You'd better get something, though. You get manic if your blood sugar drops too low." I sank back into the down featherbed and gave myself up to the luxury of being pampered.

"Yes, Mom. Go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

"About what?" I asked, frowning at her as she stood in the open doorway. "If you're going to harp at me about that guy - "

"His name is Raphael," she said with obnoxious coyness.

" - you can think again because there's nothing to discuss."

"Go to sleep," she repeated with a knowing smile. "You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

I decided to try out one of Raphael's eyebrow moves just to see how well it worked for me.

"The fair," she answered my silent question. "You want to look your best for the fair! You're going to meet your Dark One there!"

What if I already had? "Like hell I am!"

"The man whose soul you'll save!"

"You really take the cake, you know that?"

"He'll clasp you to his manly chest, and look deep into your eyes, and tell you that you are his and his alone, and not even you can want him to do that if you look like you do now!"

"I hereby declare you certifiable. I'll have the plaque made up in the morning."

"And then he'll complete the ritual of the Joining, and you will live happily ever after with your vampire lover, just like in Dante's books."

I took a deep breath. "THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A VAMPIRE!"

She grinned. "Nighty-night, don't let the bedbugs bite. You'll want to save that treat for him."

The ice bag missed her, but it made a very satisfying bang as it hit the door.