Blood and Kisses - By Karin Shah Page 0,26

The thought further dampened her spirits. From his point of view, it must be true. She, after all, was no more than an infant in his terms, and she had been having a bad dream.

Fragments of the dream flowed back, a stream of twisted images, and Thalia sighed.

Another prophetic dream. One she had a feeling she was already too late to prevent.

She placed a hand on his corded forearm, her voice husky with emotion and sleep. “I think there’s been another murder.”

Chapter 8

“Gideon!” The manager of the Tomb, Tom Delgado, greeted him nervously as they entered. The tavern was curiously empty for a Friday night, but sunset had just fallen. A couple slow-danced alone on the dance floor, several men sat at the bars, sipping imported beer, a couple of witches chatted at one of the high tables.

The Tomb was, in essence, just a large, low-ceilinged chamber with two long bars running the length of the east and west walls. The northern wall sported a low stage and a dance floor. Tall, round tables with high-backed barstools filled the area between the bars and the dance floor. Mirrors lined the walls behind the bars.

The witches occupied the west side of the tavern, the side that held their separate entrance, the vampires the east. No physical barrier defined the two spaces, but each community was careful to stay in their area. Only the humans, mostly unaware of the true nature of the supernatural patrons of the bar, crossed easily back and forth.

Tom had taken over for his father, Antonio, when he’d retired. Cam was his mother. The Delgados had served Gideon since before he’d come to America and were his partners in the tavern. Human, in his early thirties, with spiky black hair and sun-bronzed skin, Tom was one of the few people Gideon trusted.

The man nodded in Thalia’s direction, but swiftly turned his attention back to Gideon.

“The police have been here. Everyone knows you own the bar.”

Gideon sent a wave of calm over his employee. He made it a practice not to manipulate the Delgados mentally, but Tom was unusually agitated. “Don’t worry, Tom. It’s still early. The business will recover. Meanwhile,” He handed Tom a wad of hundreds. “Tell your mother to take a vacation until this blows over.”

Mindful of the few vampires present, Tom lowered his voice. “I’m not worried about the bar! It’s you I’m worried about. Even if you’re not a suspect, all this attention...”

Gideon patted Tom on the shoulder. “I appreciate your concern. But as soon as the rogue is caught, the publicity will die down and everything will return to normal.” Tom took a deep breath and shook his head, shooting him one last doubtful glance as he returned to his duties.

“You have very loyal employees,” Thalia observed as Gideon ushered her to his favorite table and helped her into her seat.

“I pay well.”

Thalia smiled gently. “I’m sure that’s an understatement, but I don’t think that’s why they’re so loyal.” She placed a slim hand on his wrist. He could feel her heat through the Egyptian cotton of his sleeve. It seemed to expand in concentric rings until his whole arm was warm, his shoulder, his torso. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling. Gods, it felt good to be warm.

He fought the urge to cover her hand with his own, reminding himself she had violated his privacy, she was a witch, he didn’t deserve her comfort. The list was endless. But the monster liked warmth as well. The creature flickered to life inside him. He traced the sweet contours of her face with ravenous eyes.

The pliant curve of her lips drew him like a moth to a street lamp. He had tasted that mouth. Her face was soft. Eyelids dropped slightly over aquamarine eyes. He could taste her again. A burst of remembered flavor flowed over his tongue. The potent honey of her mouth made his mouth water.

His body hardened joyously in preparation for an act it must never perform again. The terrible, glorious pain of arousal filled him, but it was not alone. Bloodlust accompanied it. His fangs engorged, descending into his mouth, and he longed for another flavor, the rich pungent taste of blood.

He looked at her hand on his wrist, so fragile, so easily crushed. His earlier vision of her crumpled body flashed into his head. That thought tore him away from the cocoon of desire that enmeshed him. He wasn’t here to enjoy her company, to wallow in her