his arms.
The next thing she knew, they were standing on the front porch of her house.
Being told that vampires could move at light speed was one thing, being part of it was another.
Seeing her startled expression, Darrick grinned and said, “Vampire mojo.”
Before she could think of anything to say, her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that all she’d had to eat was a granola bar, and that had been hours ago.
She crossed the threshold, then paused to look over her shoulder.
Vaughan stood on the porch, his hands shoved into his pants pockets.
Kadie huffed a sigh; then, hoping she wouldn’t regret it, she said, “You might as well come in.”
With a nod, he entered the house.
A faint shimmer of energy played over her skin when he crossed the threshold.
Seeing her quizzical expression, he said, “Preternatural power. Not every mortal can sense it.”
She pondered that while she made a sandwich.
Darrick watched her from the kitchen doorway, his arms folded over his chest.
“Do vampires ever eat . . . food?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of milk.
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
She nibbled on her sandwich a moment before asking, “How did you find me?”
“I followed your scent.”
Brow furrowed, she blinked at him. “But I was miles away.”
He nodded.
“More vampire mojo?”
“Something like that,” he replied with a wry smile.
“There was a house. A big house made of gray stone. With bars on the windows.”
He nodded again. “It belongs to Saintcrow.”
“Saintcrow?” She frowned. The name sounded familiar. And then she remembered where she had heard it. Pauline had remarked how lucky she was that Vaughan had found her first, and Shirley had said that none of the women taken by Saintcrow were ever seen again.
“He’s the oldest one of our kind I’ve ever met,” Darrick remarked. “Morgan Creek belongs to him.”
“He’s older than you?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah. Saintcrow rode with King Richard during the Crusades.”
If she remembered her history correctly, the first crusade started in the year 1095 or 1096 and was fought to regain control of the Holy Lands. To the best of her recollection, there had been nine crusades. It was inconceivable that anyone living back then could still be alive.
She was about to say as much when there was a ripple in the air and a tall man with dusky skin appeared in the doorway beside Vaughan.
“Speak of the devil,” Darrick remarked sourly, “and he appears.”
“Kadie Andrews,” the newcomer said. “I think it’s time we met since you were prowling the grounds of my lair earlier today.”
Kadie stared at Saintcrow. He was taller than Vaughan, broad-shouldered, and lean-hipped, with an air of confidence and authority that was almost tangible. He wore black jeans, black boots, and a black silk shirt open at the throat. His inky black hair brushed the collar of his jacket; his eyes were like deep pools of ebony. A thin white scar ran from the outer corner of his left eye, down his cheek, and disappeared under his shirt collar. Power radiated from him, making the short hairs rise along her arms. Even if no one had told her what he was, she would have known he wasn’t human.
Saintcrow took Kadie’s hands in his. “I regret that I was not able to welcome you when you arrived,” he said.
Kadie nodded. His voice moved over her like a caress, deep and whiskey smooth.
Eyes narrowed, Saintcrow took hold of the black scarf hanging out of her back pocket and tossed it aside.
“I rather fancy her,” he said. “You don’t mind if I borrow her for a while, do you, Vaughan?” It wasn’t really a request, not the way he said it.
Clenching her hands into fists, Kadie sent a pleading glance to Vaughan. He looked at her, his eyes filled with pity. “As you wish, my lord,” he said, and vanished from sight.
Kadie stared at Saintcrow. She had been afraid of Vaughan, but that was nothing compared to the terror that gripped her when Saintcrow looked at her through those fathomless black eyes.
“Come along, Kadie Andrews.” His gaze burned into hers, hotter than hellfire, yet strangely compelling. When he held out his hand, she dared not refuse.
With a predatory smile, his fingers—long and incredibly strong—closed over her own. A rush of preternatural power surrounded her. It was like being caught in the center of a tornado. The world spun out of focus. Darkness swallowed her.
When she came to her senses, she was in a large, square room, trapped in Rylan Saintcrow’s embrace.
Kadie didn’t move, could scarcely breathe. He was close. So close. His power