Vince moved silently through the dark city streets. Who would have thought that being immortal would be boring? He had always been a night person, but this was ridiculous. He hadn't expected to miss ordinary things like eating a hamburger or just walking down a sunny street. Not that he had taken that many walks when he had the chance, but he sure as hell missed it now that it wasn't an option.

His thoughts turned to Cara, as they so often did of late. She had brought a little color into his world, made him yearn for a normal life. He wondered where she was, what she was doing.

Almost without conscious thought, he found himself standing on the balcony outside her room. His senses told him the vampires who lived here weren't home, and he wondered again how a mortal happened to be living with the Undead. Was she their daughter? Had they been turned after she was born?

One of the French doors leading into her bedroom was partially open. Prevented by some vampire mumbo jumbo from entering without an invitation, he peered into her room. She was in bed, lying on her side facing his way, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Her hair fell over her shoulder like a river of molten gold.

She made a small, sleepy sound and rolled onto her back, and he knew she was awake.

Cara bolted upright, her gaze darting around the room. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Vince."

"Vince! What are you doing out there?"

"I came to apologize for hurting your feelings the other night."

She folded her arms across her breasts. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?"

"No. I think you'd better go."

"Is that what you want?"

"No." The word was little more than a whisper. She peered at him through the darkness. What was there about him that attracted her so? She hardly knew him, yet he had been constantly in her thoughts since the moment they met. "My father will have a heart attack if he comes in and finds you out there."

"I doubt it," he said dryly. "Besides, he's not home."

"How do you know?" She glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was three am. Where would her father be at such an hour?

She thought Vince shrugged, though she couldn't be sure. It was silly to sit here in the dark, she thought, and turned on the light on the bedside table. "You might as well come in."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside.

Cara looked up at him, her eyes widening. "You're bleeding!"

"What?"

"There," she said, pointing, "on your lower lip."

He wiped it away, thinking he would have to be more careful when he fed in the future. "I guess it's too late to go for a walk."

She laughed softly. "Just a little. Besides, I'm not dressed for a midnight stroll."

"Can I see you tomorrow night?"

"I'd like that."

He liked it that she didn't play hard to get, and that she didn't hold a grudge for the shoddy way he had treated her at the club. "What time should I pick you up?"

"Nine, at the library."

"What are you, a bookworm?"

"No, I'm a librarian."

"Really? I don't think I've ever met a librarian before."

"I love books. It's the perfect place to work."

"So, what does a librarian do?"

"Since our library is small, I do a little bit of everything."

"Like what?"

"Well, I read book reviews and publishers' announcements and catalogues to keep informed on current literature. I buy books from publishers and distributors. I keep an eye on Sarah Beth, who's my assistant, and make sure she keeps our database up to date. I'm in charge of the story hour, and sometimes I invite authors to come and speak. When there's nothing else to do, I help put books away."

"Sounds like you're pretty busy."

"Most of the time, but I like it that way."

He nodded. "So, where would you like to go tomorrow night?"

"Any place is fine with me."

"How about a late movie?"

She nodded. She didn't care where they went, so long as they were together. She gazed up at him, willing him to kiss her, disappointed once again when he didn't.

Tomorrow night, she thought; she would get that kiss tomorrow night or know the reason why!

Roshan paused in the shadows and drew his wife into his arms. "It's a beautiful night. Why do you look

so glum?"

"I'm worried about Cara."

"Still?"

"I can't shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen."

"What do you mean?" He had great respect for his wife's intuition. "Is she in danger?"

"I don't know. I just have this bad feeling and I can't shake it. It's dark energy..." She shivered. "Like Loken's. I always felt dirty when I was around him and that's how this feels." She looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared. "You don't think he's come back from the dead?"

"Brenna."

"I know, I'm being silly, but... I want to go out to the lab."

"Why?"

"I just need to see it, to prove he's not there."

"All right, if it will make you feel better."

A thought took them across town to the laboratory. Roshan sensed the magical energy that surrounded the place immediately.

"Someone's been out here," he said. "They've put a protective spell around the building."

"Can we cross it?" Brenna asked.

"I don't know."

He dissolved into mist and tried to slip under the door, but the spell was strong and it pushed him out.

After resuming his own form, he walked around the perimeter of the building. In addition to the protective spell, the threshold shimmered with power. The lab wasn't a home, but someone loved the building and what it contained. Combined with the protective spell, it made a powerful, impassable barrier, one he couldn't cross even though he had been there before.

"Now I'm really worried," Brenna said. "Who would be interested in this place?" She frowned thoughtfully. Who indeed? Before Myra had showed her true colors, Brenna had spent a lot of time in her bookstore. Brenna had seen the way Serafina Bouchard looked at Anthony Loken when she thought no one was watching, but that seemed pretty far-fetched. Loken had been dead for over twenty years.

That was a long time to carry a torch, especially for a dead man.

"Come on," Roshan said, taking her by the hand, "let's go home and check on our girl."

Cara was sleeping peacefully, as Roshan had known she would be. He was about to leave the room when his nostrils twitched with the scent of vampire.

Hands clenched, he glanced around the room. Not only was there a new vampire in his city, but the man had been in his house-in his daughter's bedroom, this very night.

Moving closer to the bed, Roshan examined Cara's throat and neck, relieved that there were no telltale bite marks. Of course, not all vampires drank from the same place. Some preferred a vein in the wrist,

others liked the inside of an elbow, or the inner thigh where the marks were not so obvious.

Leaving the room, he went downstairs to tell Brenna to keep listening to her feelings.

Eager to see Vince again, Cara was waiting outside the library when he drove up the following night.

"Wow," she exclaimed, "nice car!"

"Thanks."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you own a garage. Where is it, anyway?"

He didn't want to tell her, didn't want her dropping by some afternoon or morning when he was taking his rest and wondering why he wasn't at work. Not that he couldn't come up with a plausible fib if he had to, but he didn't want to lie to her. "Over on Seventh and East Streets."

He opened the door for her, then slid behind the wheel. "I checked the paper. The late show starts at nine-twenty. I figure that gives us just enough time to get there."

Cara nodded, her gaze moving over him. Tonight he wore a long black coat over a white shirt and black jeans.

He was the most handsome man she had ever met. Just looking at him stirred a longing deep within her.

Vince pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, bought two tickets, and handed them to the guy inside the door. He was walking down the corridor toward the theater when he noticed Cara wasn't with him.

He was turning around to look for her when she tapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm a little hungry," she said. "I think I'll get some popcorn."

"Hey, you're with me. I'll buy. What do you want to drink?"

"Lemonade."

He put in her order, paid for it, and followed her down the aisle to theater number three. They found two seats in the back.

The lights went down and the theater closed in on him. So many beating hearts. The scent of blood flowing through a hundred veins. The stink of popcorn and candy and soda. It was like being on sensory overload. He wondered if he would ever get used to it. He wondered about so many things that had to do with his new lifestyle-death-style? Whatever they called it.

"Do you want some popcorn?" she asked.

"No, thanks."

"Lemonade?"

"Too sweet."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I'm fine."

Numerous commercials and previews flashed across the screen before the movie started.

He couldn't really concentrate on what he was watching. He was all too aware of the woman beside him.

Every breath she took, every beat of her heart resonated in his being. Even though there were a hundred other people in the theater, his senses honed in on Cara-the scent of her shampoo and soap, the flowery fragrance that clung to her hair, the fried chicken she'd eaten for dinner, the hot buttery popcorn on her breath. But overall, the sweet scent of her life's blood called to him. It would be so easy to take. If he leaned toward her just a little, and tilted his head just so...

Damn! What was he thinking?

He shifted in his seat. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, after all! He glanced up at the screen and prayed that the movie would soon be over because he needed to put some space between them pretty darn quick.

Whispering, "I'll be right back," he practically bolted out of his seat.

He went to the entrance of the theater, opened the door, and took several slow, deep breaths. Better, he thought, that was better. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. He would be fine now. He wondered if there was a way to block all the sensory input that plagued his every waking moment, and if it was possible, how long it took to master such a thing. All in all, he liked being immortal. He liked the fact that he was impervious to practically everything, that wounds healed overnight, that he could move faster than the human eye could follow. He liked his preternatural senses, too; he just wanted to be able to control them.

What he needed was a guidebook for new vampires. He had looked for one online but with no luck.

Hell, maybe he should write one!

After taking a last deep breath of fresh air, he returned to his seat.

"About time you got back," she whispered. "I was beginning to think you found another date. What kept you so long?"

"Sorry, darlin'. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," she said, and then she smiled at him.

Slipping his arm around her shoulders, Vince knew he would do just about anything to have her smile at him like that just once a day for the rest of his existence. That sobered him. Barring some unforeseen accident, he would be around a lot longer than she would. The thought depressed the heck out of him.

He hardly knew her and he already couldn't imagine the world without her in it.

"It was a good movie, wasn't it?" Cara remarked as they left the theater.

"Yeah." To tell the truth, he didn't really know. He had spent the last half of the movie thinking about how dreary the world would be when she was gone. But she was still young, he thought, looking on the bright side. She would be around for a good long time.

"I love movies," she said. "I think I'd go every night if I could."

"Every night?" He shook his head. "You really are a movie junkie."

"And a book junkie," she said, grinning. "And a chocolate junkie. And a computer junkie. So, what do you like?"

"My Mustang." They were standing beside it now, and he patted the roof.

"That's it? You don't like anything but your car?"

His gaze moved over her, long and slow. "I can think of one or two other things," he said with a wicked grin.

Cara felt her cheeks grow hot under his sensual gaze. She cleared her throat. "Like what?" she asked breathlessly.

"Like hair the color of spun gold, and eyes the color of a peaceful mountain lake, and a smile that's brighter than the sun."

"I had no idea you were a poet."

"I'm not."

He opened the door for her, then walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"Not really, why?"

"I thought we could go for a drive."

"I'd like that."

He started the car and the engine came to life with a low growl. Once he got out of town, he found a long straightaway and goosed it up.

It was like flying, Cara thought, one hand clutching the edge of her seat.

"Do you want me to slow down?" he asked.

"No, I love it!"

"Hang on!"

It was exhilarating, flying through the dark night. She knew it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. A flat tire, a rut in the road, a skid, anything could be fatal at this speed, but it felt wonderful and a little bit wicked.

Vince muttered an oath when he heard the siren. A glance in the rearview mirror showed flashing red lights coming up fast behind him.

Had he been alone, he might have tried to outrun the law, but not when Cara was with him. He had already put her life in danger by driving like some reckless teenager.

He pulled off the road, rolled down the window, and waited.

A cop approached him a moment later. "Can I see your driver's license, sir?"

Vince had it out and ready.

The cop looked it over, then shined his flashlight in Vince's face. "Do you know how fast you were going back there?"

"Yes, sir."

The cop tucked his flashlight under his arm and flipped open his ticket book. "This is going to cost you big bucks."

"Officer, you really don't want to give me a ticket."

The cop looked at him. "Is that right?"

"That's right." Vince gazed deep into the cop's eyes. "A warning will do just as well this time, don't you think?"

"Yes," the cop said, nodding. "A warning will do just as well this time." He closed his ticket book. "Have a nice evening, folks."

"Thank you, officer."

Cara stared at Vince, her eyes wide. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know. Just my winning personality, I guess."

She laughed. "You are so lucky. I'll bet that ticket would have cost you at least four hundred dollars."

"At least."

After pulling onto the road again, he drove a mile or two and then turned off on a one-lane dirt road flanked by shrubs and tall trees.

Cara glanced around, a little shiver of unease snaking down her spine. Was she going to be one of those girls who wound up dead in a ditch? "What are we doing here?"

"There's a pretty little pond down the road a ways. Not afraid of the dark, are you?"

"I don't know." She could hear the news flash now. Girl's body found in the woods. Film at eleven. She glanced over her shoulder. Where was Di Giorgio when she needed him?

Vince parked the car a few minutes later. He got out, then opened her door for her. "Come on," he said, offering her his hand. "You'll like it."

He led her down a narrow path that gradually grew wider and then she saw it, a small pond surrounded by luminous white sand. The light of the moon cast silver shadows on the face of the water.

Night-blooming flowers and tall, lacy ferns added a fairy-like touch.

"It's lovely," she murmured, her fears forgotten in the beauty that surrounded them.

"Yeah."

"How did you ever find it?"

"Just happened upon it one night. I've been waiting for someone to share it with."

Taking off his duster, he spread it on the ground for her to sit on, then sat on the grass beside her.

"It's so quiet here," Cara said. "So peaceful. It's like we're the only two people in the whole world."

"I'd like that." He doubted if she would, he thought with morbid humor, since she would be his only source of food.

"Vince, wouldn't you like to kiss me?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"Is that an invitation?"

"If you want it to be."

Scooting closer, he drew her into his arms. He held her for a moment, one hand stroking the silk of her hair before he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his. She tasted of butter and salt, popcorn and lemonade-and life. It flowed through her veins, thick and rich and red, whetting his appetite, arousing his desire. He deepened the kiss, easing her down to the ground so that they were lying side by side. He draped his arm over her waist, holding her close, basking in her nearness. The heat of her body warmed his own, and he held her closer.

She moaned softly, her body pressing more intimately against his.

"Careful," he warned, and kissed her again. Her lips were incredibly soft and sweet.

She gasped when his tongue found her own, whether from passion or surprise, he didn't know, though he had a feeling no one had ever kissed her so deeply before. The fact that she had never been with another man tempted him beyond reason and yet it was the one thing that protected her. He had done a lot of vile things in the last year, but thus far, he hadn't defiled a virgin.

Cara whimpered softly. She was drowning, she thought, drowning in a sea of pleasure unlike anything she had ever known. Vince was kissing her, just kissing her, and yet she felt the heat of his kisses clear down to her toes. She was on fire and only he could put out the flame. She writhed against him, her hands clutching his back, kneading his shoulders. She wriggled underneath him, groaned at the welcome weight of his body on hers. Cara had little experience with boys, and less with men. In high school, she had been a nerd. She had never had a real boyfriend. The only kisses she had ever received were from playing kissing games at parties, but none of those kisses had been in the same universe as this one.

She slid her hands under his shirt, her fingers exploring his broad back, the indentation of his spine, the shape of his shoulder blades. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to touch him and taste him. She was about to suggest he take off his shirt when he sat up.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Someone's here."

Cara glanced around, but she couldn't see anything in the dark. "How do you know?"

"I can feel it." He sniffed the air. "It's your watch dog, Di Giorgio."

"Di Giorgio!" She bolted upright, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and then horror as she realized that Di Giorgio would report everything to her parents.

Vince stood and then offered Cara his hand.

"Did he see us?" she asked anxiously.

"Not yet."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and then frowned. "How do you even know he's here?"

"I can hear him. He's right over there," Vince said, pointing.

"I don't hear anything."

"Come on, I'd better take you back to the library to get your car."

"I don't want to go home."

"And I don't want you to go," Vince said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

But it was probably for the best.

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