Death Calls. Caridad Pineiro
But now, because of Diana, he was no longer alone. Would he be able to handle the pain of her death? Unsettled by those thoughts, he leaped down, floor by floor, to the street below. Once there, he hesitated, uncertain of where he would go. Unsure that it was wise to give in to the beast who longed for more than just seeing her.
For so long he had controlled his vampire nature and striven for a human life, the kind of life he had lost during the Civil War.
He didn’t really understand how the sheltered existence he had so carefully built had become filled not only with Diana, but with an assortment of people and vampires who demanded he acknowledge what he was.
After despising his vampire nature for more than a century, he hadn’t expected ever to enjoy the power and passion and strength that releasing the demon would bring. For so long, he had kept the beast at bay, afraid of what it could do. He had seen the aftermath of vampire violence against others, against himself.
A physician before a supposed act of kindness had turned him, he had devoted his life to healing, to saving others. He hated that the demon within was the total antithesis of what he had been—a good man.
But over the past two years, he had discovered that he could use his vampire powers for good—if he could control the violence that accompanied the demon. The violence it was becoming harder and harder to restrain around Diana. Was it because the beast didn’t want to lose a mate after so much time alone?
Tonight the demon screamed for him to let it loose. Reluctantly he did. With a quick look to make sure no one was watching, he transformed. Long fangs erupted from his mouth and blood surged through his veins. All around him, colors and noises became more vibrant. Sounds sharper, almost painful to his heightened hearing. Smells, all those luscious smells, ripe around him. And beneath it all, the awareness of the humans close at hand, throbbing with life.
Speed beyond that of a mortal drove him. Where, he didn’t quite know. He just reveled in the freedom of the night. The piercing glow of the moon and stars lit his way. The chill of the night air flew against his heated skin. As he brushed past one human on a side street, the scent filled his nostrils. The thunder of heartbeat and blood called to him. Sweet blood, pulsing.
Ryder badly wanted a taste. He imagined sinking his fangs through fragile skin before his mortal side rose up, reining in the vampire and urging him to a nearby rooftop. Hurtling from one edifice to the next, he reached an old and narrow cobblestone alley in Tribeca. The Blood Bank.
Hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Ryder stared at the entrance to the club. He didn’t normally frequent the place, not much caring for Foley, the owner, or for the other vampires who so blithely indulged their baser instincts there, without a care. Without conscience. Totally unlike the vampires he had befriended in the past year. They tried to live nearly human lives. They also refused to feed from humans and didn’t sire others like themselves. At least, they usually didn’t.
Ryder had learned from his new friends that despite their best intentions, sometimes the beast won out. Their experience had confirmed what he’d already known—balancing his mortal and demon sides required dedicated effort.
So now here he was, the pit of his stomach clenching at the thought of fresh blood. Saliva pooled in his mouth like that of a hungry man sitting at a feast. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath to quell the demon’s urges—and smelled her.
Diana.
She had either been nearby recently or was still close. Inhaling sharply, he picked up her scent and threw himself over the ledge of the building. He landed on his feet as quietly and gracefully as a panther on the prowl.
Her smell grew stronger at ground level. Ryder followed it to the door of the club, flashed some fang to get past the bouncer and hurried within, eager for even a glimpse.
She had made her feelings known, but one night away from her…was like an eternity.
In the stifling lifeless air of the club, Diana’s smell strengthened and he followed it to the bar. She sat with Foley, letting the vampire lean toward her, touch her.
Ryder fisted his hands, barely controlling the desire to rip Foley’s finger off.
With perverse satisfaction, he smiled as Diana did some damage of her own, but Foley, sick animal that he was, kind of liked it. So do you, his inner voice rebuked. You like the violence she hides at her core.
Anger barely subdued, he stepped into the shadows. The noise and music were too loud and uneven for him to make out their discussion. Interminably long minutes passed before Diana left.
Ryder hesitated, debating whether to follow Diana or to beat Foley into monster mash. First, because the vampire had touched Diana. Second, because Ryder had never liked Foley. He was everything Ryder hated and never wanted to be: a hedonistic animal, devoid of any mortal sensibilities.
And for some reason, Diana had ditched him for the undead cad.
Ryder’s human side urged him to curb his resentment. After all, she had left the bar alone and rebuffed Foley’s sole advance. But the demon…The demon damn well wanted some satisfaction.
Satisfaction that words wouldn’t provide.
Chapter 2
She was finally home.
Elation swept through Ryder as he stood on her fire escape. He waited at her window needing to see her. All he could think about was her, about being with her again—in spite of the withdrawal and anger he sensed from her. Those emotions screamed for his acknowledgment. She was angry because he was visiting. Uninvited.
From her bedroom door, she headed straight for the window, as if aware he was there.
Slipping over the edge of the fire escape, he plummeted a few stories before grabbing the railing to break his fall. It jangled loudly as it bore the brunt of his weight. He quickly eased closer to the building and its shadows so he would be hidden. He soon heard the grate of the lock, the slight groan of recalcitrant metal as she opened the window. Then he smelled her. He breathed in deeply, trapping her essence within him. It was food for his senses, instantly bringing his body to painful life.
Not for the first time, he conceded that he liked certain abilities given to him by his vampirism. The ones that let him smell her and see her and, lately, reach into her mind to share his thoughts. She had allowed that new gift, although he knew she was uncomfortable with the invasion. She was, after all, a woman used to being in total control.
Was that why she was running from him?
He climbed onto the railing and, bunching the muscles of his legs, leaped up three stories to her window. He landed nearly silently and smiled to himself, pleased with how his skills were improving.
Now, he intended to make his presence known.
Ryder was here.
Damn him. It was bad enough he haunted her every thought and made her need him in ways she didn’t want to need anyone. It was even worse that he refused to honor her one simple request for a night away from him. A night to try to forget what he made her feel so she could gain some peace of mind, if only for a moment.
You can never forget me, she heard inside her head.
Really? And could you forget me? she questioned angrily.
Never.
Maybe a little mental and physical anguish of his own would drive the point home: their relationship had taken a wrong turn. The reality she had confronted earlier—that she wanted a normal life—was impossible if she continued on this path. Ryder could never give her that kind of existence.
She faced the window and yanked off her suit jacket. Beneath the jacket, her holster securely cradled her Glock. She slipped it off, checked to make sure the safety was on and tucked the holster and gun into the drawer of her bedside table.
A gun would be no protection