Copyright 2006 Bianca D'Arc. All Rights Reserved. PROLOGUE He was going to die. Finally, after over a thousand years of walking the earth, his life was going to end. He welcomed it. But the girl would die, too, and that bothered him. Funny, by now he thought he shouldn't have a conscience left, but oddly enough, it plagued him. Lying in a pool of his own blood, with some kind of support beam making a hole in his chest, Atticus felt his life slipping away. He heard faint, struggling little gasps for breath issuing from the small woman who'd been seated across the aisle. At least for now. Everyone else on board the small passenger van was dead. He knew because their heartbeats ceased echoing in his ears. He no longer sensed the motion of their blood swishing through their veins. They were all dead. All except for the quiet girl who'd smiled so kindly at him after he'd accidentally stepped on her foot while boarding. Atticus never touched humans except to feed. Such acute hearing and senses usually made it too painful to get within touching distance of most humans, unless they were under his thrall. Yet, somehow, this quiet, shy woman had invaded his personal space earlier that night, without his knowledge. It had shocked him at the time, and he'd spent several of the interminable hours as they rode over the lonely mountains thinking about how she'd managed it. He hadn't been surprised in years. Centuries even. Yet, this nondescript woman, with the mousy brown hair and hazel eyes, somehow managed to invade his personal space and his thoughts. Incredible. Now she would die alone in the night, on the side of a deserted mountain road, along with the rest of them. Unless he fought against the darkness coming for him.
CHAPTER ONE
When Lissa woke, darkness engulfed her. Straining to see in the absence of light, her breath accelerated for a moment as she panicked. Her apprehension grew as she realized another person lay beside her. She faintly heard a soft dripping sound echoing through what she supposed was some kind of underground chamber or deep cave. She knew the mountains in this part of the world were dotted with such places, but she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten here. Or why she was so groggy. She tried to sit up, but it the effort required escaped her. The person beside her stirred at her movement, and she felt more than saw, the person rise up to lean over her. "Where are we?" "I moved us to shelter." Rich and warm, his voice bathed her senses in a dark and dangerous way. Sexy, she thought, and she'd heard that voice before. She remembered the flashing eyes and chiseled face of the man who'd boarded the passenger van behind her. She'd been fascinated by him and instantly captivated. She remembered thinking he was quite possibly the most striking man she'd ever seen. "You stepped on my foot." He chuckled at her innocent observation, setting her insides to glowing. "Indeed. But that was more than twenty-four hours ago." He stroked a gentle finger down her cheek and she shivered, not in fear, but in surprising arousal. If just the brush of his finger made her this hot, it made her wonder what he could do if he really tried. That thought stopped her cold. Men like him didn't usually go for little mice like her. Better to focus on the peculiar situation she found herself in than daydream about her rescuer. "What happened? I remember the van swerving..." "Ah, yes. Just before we rolled down the side of the mountain. You hit your head very hard, I'm afraid. That's probably why you're still a bit fuzzy." "Where is everyone else?" He paused only slightly. "Dead." Her breath caught in shock as her mind raced. "How did we...?" "Relax, sweetheart." He moved closer. "I pulled you from the wreckage and found shelter, but I was badly damaged in the accident as well. I'm sorry for it, but I need your essence to speed my healing." "My what?" His hot breath bathed her ear now, moving lower as he settled closer and closer to her side. His strong arms enveloped her shoulders as his mouth stroked over the line of her jaw and lower. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you, but I need your blood, and I'm too weak to cloud your mind. You'll have to trust me." His words whispered against her shivering skin as he dragged sharp teeth back and forth over her jugular as if savoring the moment before the feast. She barely had time to take in his words before he struck. A piercing pain registered only for a moment, followed by the greatest bliss she had ever experienced. Intensely sexual, it engulfed her in a way she'd never known. He sucked at her neck, licking at the essence of her, swallowing like a thirsty man in the desert. Yet reverence and gentleness communicated through his touch, and his tender handling of her bruised and battered body. Oddly, she didn't object. She knew she should be afraid, but the intense feeling of arousal overwhelmed her. She didn't have the strength to voice even the faintest protest. * * * *
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