“I don’t know,” she said again. “How did your wife cope with having a Vampire husband?”

“You would have to ask her,” Rafe said, chuckling. “We had some pretty hairy times, ourselves.”

“Of course, the war was going on then.”

Rafe nodded. “We had some close calls with a couple of grandmothers.”

“Grandmothers!” Savanah exclaimed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all,” Rafe said, grinning. “They were Vampire hunters who were also involved in some pretty wild experiments. They invented a drug they hoped would destroy the Undead and cure the Werewolves.”

“What were they planning to do, go from house to house and inoculate the Supernatural community?”

“No, they were going to add it to the water supply. I can tell you from personal experience that it didn’t work.”

“What happened to the grandmothers?”

“I brought them across.”

Savanah blinked at him. “You turned them? Against their will?”

He nodded. “And I would do it again.”

“But…”

“Would you rather I had killed them?”

“No, but…”

“If I had let them go, they would have continued their experiments. As it was, they had already killed several innocent people. They had to be stopped. I did it the best way I knew how, short of taking their lives.”

“But you’ve killed people?”

“A time or two, in self-defense.”

Savanah took a deep breath. “And Rane? Has he taken many lives?”

Rafe regarded her for a long moment, then said, “I think that is a question you should ask him yourself.” He lifted one brow. “I find it curious that you haven’t asked him already.”

“I don’t think I wanted to know the answer.”

“And now?”

“I need to know. If we’re to have any kind of lasting relationship, I need to know everything.”

Rafe nodded. “I only know of one life that he’s taken. It happened the night we became Vampires. He thinks no one in the family knows what he did, but I know, just as I know that it preys on his mind. I believe it’s his guilt over that death that drove him away from us.”

“Why would he feel guilty? It’s what Vampires do, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I…” She stared at Rafe. She hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, was surprised by the barely suppressed accusation in her voice.

“Yes,” Rafe said, his own voice tight. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “Please forgive me. It’s just that Vampires killed both of my parents and I…I’m supposed to be a hunter, like my mother. It’s supposed to be in my blood, and…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at Rafe again. “I’m rambling, forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. It can’t be easy, loving a Vampire. There are many adjustments that must be made on both sides. Not every mortal can accept us for who and what we are.”

“Nor can every Vampire accept what he or she becomes,” Mara said, entering the room. “Many destroy themselves.” She paused beside Savanah. “Rane will most likely awaken when the sun goes down. He’ll need to feed, and he’ll need more than you can offer. If you’re smart, you won’t offer him anything.”

“Because he might not be able to stop?” Savanah asked.

“Exactly. And now I must take my leave.”

“Going back to Egypt?” Rafe asked with a knowing grin.

“Perhaps. It was interesting meeting you, Savanah Gentry. I wish you well, but leave you with this warning: if you hurt Rane, I’ll come after you. His family is my family. Do you understand?”

Savanah nodded, unable to speak past the icy lump in her throat. She understood Mara perfectly.

Rafe stood and gave his godmother a hug. “Keep in touch.”

“Of course. Give Kathy and your parents my love when you see them again.”

“I will.”

A wave of her hand, and the Vampire queen was gone.

“I suppose I should also be going,” Rafe said. “Tell Rane if he wants to see me, I’ll be close by.”

“All right. Thank you for everything.”

“I hope we will meet again.”

“Me, too,” Savanah said, and then sighed as Rafe vanished from her sight. She would never get used to that, she thought, and went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee.

It was like rising from the depths of hell a layer at a time, Rane thought as he fought his way out of the smothering darkness. He didn’t know how much time had passed, how many days and nights he had been trapped in his deathlike sleep, unable to move, unable to speak.

Sitting up, he glanced around. Though the room was dark, he could see clearly, knew he was in Savanah’s house, in her father’s bed. He took a deep breath, his senses expanding, searching. Mara and his brother were gone; Savanah was in the house alone.

Savanah, with the smile of a heavenly angel and a body to drive him mad. Savanah, whose blood had put out the unbearable fire in his veins. The thought of her blood aroused his hellish thirst. His tongue brushed his fangs. He needed nourishment and it waited for him in the living room.

Hunger drove him from the bed; consideration for Savanah sent him to her father’s closet in hopes she had not yet disposed of her father’s clothes. He pulled a pair of black sweatpants from a hanger, found a T-shirt in a dresser drawer. The pants were a trifle short, the T-shirt a little snug, but they would do for now. He didn’t know what she had done with the clothes he’d been wearing, but wouldn’t be surprised if she had disposed of them.

Barefooted, he padded down the hallway into the living room.

Savanah was sitting on the sofa with her back toward him. Lamplight shimmered in her hair, turning the silver to gold, bathing her skin with a soft rosy glow. She was beautiful, desirable in every way, and she was his. All his. For the taking.

She gasped, startled when he appeared on the sofa beside her. “Rane!” She pressed her hand over her heart. “I’m so glad to see you. How are you feeling?”

He didn’t answer, merely continued to watch her.

Like a cat at a mouse hole, she thought. A very big, very hungry cat. And she was the mouse. Small and helpless. Prey for the cat.

Fear made her heart beat faster. She knew by the sudden glow in Rane’s eyes that he was aware of what she was feeling. He had told her once that he could smell fear; no doubt she reeked of it.

“Mara said you would need to feed,” Savanah said, her words tripping over themselves. “Maybe you should go out for a while.” What was she saying? Sending Rane out now was like signing someone else’s death warrant.

Rane’s lips peeled back, revealing his fangs. “No need to go out.”

Savanah’s heart skipped a beat. “Rane…”

Lifting one hand, he stroked her cheek. “You saved me,” he said. “It wasn’t Rafe’s blood, or Mara’s, but yours.” His eyes, red as flames, burned into hers.

“Rane, please…don’t.”

He ran his knuckles along her neck, up and down, slowly, up and down.

“Rane…”

He recoiled from the stark fear in her eyes, fear that he had put there. Filled with self-loathing, he lurched to his feet.

“Tell me to get out,” he said, his voice gruff. “Now, before it’s too late, rescind your invitation.”

“I do,” she said. “I rescind it now.”

And just like that, he was gone, and she was alone.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Rane stalked the dark streets, his anger and self-loathing growing with his hunger. He had been a fool, a fool to think he could stay with her, near her, and never hurt her. A fool to think he could continue to deny what he was. He was a hunter, a predator, meant to roam the world alone. Forever alone. He had managed to keep the monster inside him under control for the last few months, but now…He slammed his fist into the side of a building, leaving a hole six inches deep in the stucco. Pain splintered through his hand. It hurt, but not enough.

He left Kelton behind and headed for the city, his destination the slums where the dregs of society gathered. He took the first mortal who crossed his path, bent over her neck, and drank. He drank enough to satisfy his hunger, then released the woman from his thrall and sent her on her way. He watched her stagger down the street. He was no better than the drug dealers and pimps who frequented this part of the city, he thought glumly. Driven by an insatiable need, he, too, preyed on the weak and the helpless.

The thought brought him up short. That might have been true once, but no more. He had not taken a human life since he met Savanah, nor had he been tempted to drain his last victim dry. In Savanah’s house, it hadn’t been the uncontrollable monster he feared rising up in him again, but simply a need for nourishment.

He swore softly. He had frightened Savanah away for nothing.

Savanah slept in her father’s room that night. It seemed fitting somehow. The only two men she had ever loved had stayed in this room, slept in this bed. She had lost them both, but, somehow, sleeping where they had slept gave her a small measure of comfort. Her father was dead, and she would never see him again. In his own way, Rane was also lost to her.

“Rane,” she murmured, “where are you now?”

She had been afraid of him earlier, even though, in her heart of hearts, she had been certain he would never hurt her; yet, at his bidding, she had sent him away. She wished now that she had refused. She should have made him stay so they could face their fears together because she knew, as surely as the sun would rise in the morning, that it had been Rane’s fear for her life that had driven him away.

Turning onto her side, she closed her eyes, wondering how long it would take him to realize the truth, and what she would do if he didn’t.