Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,4

she closed the door. "That man who came to see you last night. He sounds like the man I went to see."

"What man?" Kara stared at her sister in alarm.

"You'll laugh."

"Tell me anyway."

"I went out to the old Kendall house."

"The Kendall house! Gail, have you lost your mind? Whatever made you go out there?"

Gail picked up a corner of the cotton bedspread and began to fold and unfold it. "Well, everybody says a vampire lives there, and . . ."

"A vampire! Oh, Gail."

"I thought if a vampire really lived there, and he bit you that you'd get better and live forever."

Kara shook her head. "Gail, there are no such things as vampires. Or werewolves. Or sea monsters, or space aliens, or mermaids."

Gail crossed her arms, her expression mutinous. "There are, too."

Kara sighed. They'd had this same argument numerous times in the last two-and-a-half years. "Are you saying the dark-haired man was a vampire and he came here to bite me?"

Gail nodded.

"Well, he must have changed his mind. I don't have a craving for blood, and I don't have any bites on my neck. And it's daytime and I'm wide awake." Kara took her sister's hand in hers. "It was your prayers that saved me, Gail. Yours and Nana's. You'd better go now. Nana's waiting. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

Kara couldn't help grinning as she watched her sister leave the room. Vampires, indeed! Gail's world was peopled with all kinds of monsters Big Foot and Nessie, aliens from outer space, Dracula and the Wolf Man. Gail loved them all.

With a sigh, Kara closed her eyes. Maybe she had dreamed him, that tall, dark mysterious stranger who had come to her in the quiet of the night.

But she didn't think so.

Alexander paused, his fingers resting lightly on the computer keyboard. She was thinking of him. He could hear her thoughts in his mind, as loud and clear as if she were speaking to him directly.

She was confused, wondering if he had been real or merely a shadow figure conjured from the depths of her subconscious.

As the night grew long, he felt her loneliness, heard the silent call of her tears.

Helpless to resist, he left the house to become one with the night. His black clothing blended in with the darkness as he moved swiftly, silently, down the pathway toward the town.

The hospital loomed before him, the big white building shimmering against the backdrop of the night. For once, the night nurse was absent from her desk. On quiet feet, he made his way down the corridor toward Kara's room. A moment later, he was standing beside her bed.

She looked much improved this evening. Most of the tubes had been removed; her color was better, her breathing less labored. Her hair, freshly washed, was spread across the pillow like a splash of red silk.

She was a part of him now, he thought, and he was a part of her in a way that no other man could ever be. In mingling his blood with hers, he had recreated an ancient, sacred bond, a living link between them that could not be broken. Her thoughts were as clear to him as his own, her need for reassurance and comfort impossible to ignore.

He stiffened with the realization that she was no longer asleep, but awake and staring up at him through those vivid blue eyes.

"Who are you?" Her voice quivered with fear fear of the unknown, fear of his answer.

"A blooddonor," he replied. "I heard you were recovering, and I wanted to see for myself."

"But... I thought. . . last night you said . . ."

"Last night?"

"Weren't you here last night?"

Alexander shook his head, unable to voice the lie aloud.

She frowned. "Maybe it was a dream, then."

"Most assuredly. Good night, Miss Crawford. Sleep well."

"Your name. Tell me your name."

"Alexander Claybourne." He bowed his head. "And now I must go."

"Stay, please. I... I'm afraid."

"Afraid?" he asked. "Of what?" It had been centuries since he had feared anything save discovery of what he was.

"Of being alone." She smiled self-consciously. "Of the dark." She'd been afraid of the dark for as long as she could remember, though there was no logical reason for her fear.

"The dark cannot hurt you, Miss Crawford," he said quietly.

"I know." Rationally, she did know, but she feared it just the same. "Please stay. I'm not so afraid with you here."

Ah, foolish girl, he thought, to be afraid of the darkness, but not the stranger hiding in its shadows. "Would you like me to

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