But Erik wasn't listening. Moving with preternatural speed, he left Costain's house. Impatience, anger, and disappointment intensified his hunger and he preyed on the first lone mortal he encountered.
Later, strolling toward home, he told himself it was just as well that there had been a council meeting that night. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a mortal female like Daisy O'Donnell.
Chapter 5
Daisy went hunting the next afternoon. Driving through the city, she tried not to think about Erik, but the more she tried to put him out of her mind, the more firmly entrenched he became. She couldn't help wondering why he hadn't showed up. He didn't have a job, so he hadn't been working late. Maybe he had just decided she wasn't his cup of tea. Maybe he had arrived at the Crypt before nine and found someone he found more appealing. Or maybe he had lied about being married and his wife wouldn't let him out of the house.
She spent two hours driving up one street and down another, and at the end of that time, she had nothing to show for it. She glanced at the compass again. The needle remained gold, unmoving. Muttering, "Oh, well, you can't win them all," she turned the car around and drove into town. After picking up her mail at the post office, she had a quick lunch at the coffee shop, and then, on impulse, she decided to treat herself to a manicure and a facial before going home.
She felt better, inside and out, when she left the salon. There was nothing like a little pampering to chase away the blues.
Later, at home, she couldn't seem to settle down. She wandered through the house, her thoughts constantly turning toward Erik. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. Like it or not, his image seemed indelibly imprinted on her mind. Where was he now? Why hadn't he shown up?
"Stop it," she muttered. "You're not the first woman in this century to be stood up, and you won't be the last." But it hurt just the same.
She ate dinner, then turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. It must have been down-with-love night, because every movie channel featured ill-fated lovers, from Dracula and Mina to Heathcliff and Cathy.
With a wordless cry of frustration, Daisy tossed the remote on the coffee table. Drumming her fingers on the arm of the sofa, she glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o'clock. Was he at the Crypt, hoping she would show up? Maybe he had a good explanation for last night. Maybe he would have called if she had given him her number.
Chiding herself for being a hopeless fool, she grabbed her handbag and her keys and headed out the door.
The Crypt didn't do much business on a Monday night. Daisy sat at a table in the back of the room, an untouched margarita in one hand. There were perhaps a dozen people at the bar. The dance floor was empty. Three young men were shooting pool. Two women shared a table near Daisy's. The younger of the two was pouring out her heart to her friend. From what Daisy could overhear, the younger woman had just discovered her husband was being unfaithful.
Maybe Mr. Right didn't exist for anyone. Well, except for Jennifer, who was off on her honeymoon and, according to her last letter, having the time of her life with the love of her life. But who knew how long that would last? These days, some marriages were over almost before they began. Daisy sighed. If there was a Mr. Right in her future, she certainly wasn't going to find him in a place like this.
She glanced at her drink, still untouched, and decided she didn't need it. What she needed was to go to Boston and visit her family. Her parents had their differences and their disagreements, but they had managed to survive thirty-five years of married life without killing each other. Maybe that was the best you could hope for. Maybe she would take her mom's advice and go out with Kevin O'Reilly. And maybe she wouldn't.
And maybe it was time to call it a night. It was almost eleven.
She was reaching for her handbag when there was a subtle change in the atmosphere in the room. Even before she saw him walking toward her, Daisy knew Erik had entered the Crypt.
She clutched her handbag. Seeing him, she felt suddenly foolish. Why had she come here? He would know she had come here looking for him. How pathetic was that? Why hadn't she stayed home where she belonged, and let him come to her, if he had a mind to?
She would have fled, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. And then it was too late.
"Daisy."
Just her name, but hearing it on his lips made her stomach curl with pleasure. "Erik." She pressed her handbag to her chest. "I was just leaving."
"So soon?"
She shrugged. "It's late."
"Not really." His gaze moved over her, warming every place it rested. "At least give me one dance."
"There's no music." The band didn't play on Monday or Tuesday nights.
"There's always music when you're around," he murmured.
Daisy frowned as a slow ballad emanated from the jukebox. How had that happened? No one had put any money in the machine.
"One dance?" Erik coaxed.
She knew it was a mistake, but she couldn't resist the thought of being in his arms again. "All right, maybe just one." She dropped her handbag on the table, then let him lead her onto the empty dance floor.
"I'm sorry about last night," he murmured as he took her into his arms.
With a sigh, Daisy melted into his embrace. Later, she would demand to know why he had stood her up, but not now. Now all she wanted was to forget everything else and enjoy being close to him. But a little nagging voice in the back of her mind had other ideas.