Chapter Twelve

Erica wrapped her arms around her bent knees and stared down at Max’s sleeping form. At first she’d panicked to find him lying next to her, unmoving and cold. She thought he was dead.

Of course, she was right.

She reached out and smoothed his dark hair and he stirred, but his skin didn’t warm to her touch and his chest didn’t rise and fall.

She sat back and contemplated how she’d come to this.

She’d never experienced anything like what Max had done to her that morning. At twenty-nine, she was no virgin, though her previous lovers numbered in single digits. She’d always chosen her men carefully, with an eye toward their reliable nature, rather than expertise in bed. Up until now she’d never had a man last so long or exert so much control over every nuance of the act. She’d never had a man control her orgasm before--and hold her captive with it as he had. She’d have promised him anything ... hell, she’d have given him her body if he hadn’t already been inside her.

She shivered at the memory. He’d been so alive while they were making love ... or was it just sex? If Max only wanted what her body could provide him, why had he forced her to make that promise to him? Why did he want her to stay safely out of the investigation? Was it truly because he cared about her, maybe even loved her? Or was it because he knew that his world was too much for her?

What scared her most was how strong she felt now. Surrendering to him, to her innermost desires, made her feel invincible. A small part of her wanted more even now. She wanted to wake him up and tell him yes, hold me down. Tie me up. Bite me.

Who was she? How had she become this creature who sat staring at the body of her vampire lover wishing he’d awake and punish her for her aberrant thoughts?

She shook herself out of the psychological quagmire and climbed out of bed. She hesitated a moment, her attention captured by her own reflection in the mirror. When she looked at the bed, she saw only a blur of color where Max lay. When she turned she saw him in full detail, lying on his stomach, clutching a pillow under his head.

In the mirror, nothing. She couldn’t focus on his image. Did that mean he wasn’t real? She glanced at the clock. It was close to noon. If she opened the window shade and sunlight struck the bed, what would happen?

She shook off that disturbing thought and strolled into the living room to straighten up. It was only when she found her robe and his towel next to the couch, which she realized for the first time in her life, she’d walked through her apartment naked.

She laughed softly. The old Erica never would have done that. Where had the old Erica gone?

She jumped when the phone rang, suddenly self-conscious. It could have just as easily been the doorbell. She pounced on the receiver before the second ring and wondered why it mattered to her if the noise disturbed Max.

“Hello?” She tried to sound normal.

“Ricki?”

Erica clutched the wall between the living room and the kitchen as the good humor drained out of her body like molten lead. The shock of hearing Elena’s voice doubled her over.

“Lainey! Where are you? What happened?” The memory of her sister’s voice crying through the vent at Gregori’s rushed back into her mind. How had she forgotten that until now? “Where are you, Lainey, tell me now and I’ll come and get you.”

“I don’t have a lot of time, Ricki. Only a few minutes. I need you to come to a place called The Underside, tonight…come alone.”

“I’ll come right now. Lainey, are you all right? What’s happening to you? Did they hurt you?”

“It’s Benton Carlisle. He’s keeping me here. I need you, Ricki. You’re the only one who can help me.”

“Of course.” Erica’s hands shook so violently she almost dropped the phone. “I’ll be there, Lainey--I’ll come right now.”

“No. Not now. Tonight. I won’t be able to get free until tonight. Come after midnight and come alone. They know about Max and if they see him here, they’ll hurt me. I have a plan to get away, Ricki, but I need your help.”

Erica nodded. “Okay, okay. Lainey ... it’ll be all right. I’ll get you out and we’ll find a safe place for you, I promise, this time will be different. Lainey? Lainey?” The only response was a dial tone.

Erica sank to the floor and stared at the cordless in her hand. At least Elena was alive. She sounded fine in fact, strong ... not drunk or stoned. That was good.

After a few deep breaths, Erica rose and returned the phone to its cradle. She glanced down the hall at the bedroom and listened. There was no sound. No snoring as she might have expected with a man in her bed, no gentle rhythmic breathing either. She had to remind herself, Maxwell Hart was dead to the world. Literally.

She sighed. She’d made him a promise--albeit under duress. She wondered what he’d do to her if he found out she was about to break it.

* * * *

“I’ll be out of your way by 6:00,” Max told Erica as he watched her washing dishes. Sitting at her small kitchen table with his notebook and a cup of coffee that she insisted on making for him, he felt as close to human as he had in over a century.

Watching her denim clad rear end wiggle as she scrubbed a frying pan certainly added to the illusion. He had a raging hard on but absolutely no hint of hunger. He wanted to make love to her, but as a man, not as a vampire who tempered his need for blood with sexual demands so that both hunter and prey could derive pleasure from the union.

He just wanted to touch her, play with her hair, taste her skin and feel her come around him without any power play. No games. No blood.

He hadn’t wanted that in a long time and in truth, it worried him. He couldn’t enjoy his normal male desire without wondering why it had returned after all these years of heightened vampire urges. After decades of hearing the rush of blood under a woman’s skin when he touched her, of tasting her emotions on his lips, he reveled in the normalcy of this moment. He reveled in watching her wash the dishes and wondered what she was thinking.

“What are you planning to do tonight?” she asked him as she completed her task. She stacked dishes neatly in the drain board and turned to him, the damp dishtowel tossed over her shoulder.

With her golden hair hanging down to her shoulders and not a hint of makeup, she was beautiful. She looked sunny and warm and alive. It made the dark empty spot where his heart used to beat ache to look at her. He wanted that feeling wrapped around him, in fact he craved it now more than blood. He’d felt alive when he made love to her. He felt human.

“I’m ... uh ... going to talk to some of my contacts. There’s always someone at Gregori’s and they can snoop around. I’m also going to arrange for someone to follow Benton Carlisle and Vera Nighe.”

“Why?”

“He’s involved in something. I really think Vera drugged you and that has me worried. I don’t want you to go anywhere tonight. Once it gets dark, stay inside and keep all the shades drawn. Don’t answer the door unless it’s me.”

She smiled shyly at him and reached for his hand. “Will you be coming back tonight? When you’re done working?”

“Would you like me to? I’ll be very late. I don’t want to wake you.”

“Sure you do,” she purred and his body stirred in response. “But I have to go to work tomorrow. And I’ve got to get to the bank before that so I can transfer the money to pay Elena’s rent.”

“I wish you didn’t have to do that.”

Her expression faltered. “I don’t want her to lose her apartment. She’ll pay me back.”

That wasn’t true. Max saw it in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting anything in return for her efforts to help her sister--probably because she’d learned long ago not to.

“Give me her address and I’ll go there tonight and get something of hers I can use to track her with.”

“But the landlord--”

Max laughed. “I won’t be asking the landlord’s permission. I won’t disturb anything. I just need a piece of her clothing. A scarf would be perfect or a blouse with a collar. Maybe something with her favorite perfume on it.”

“All right. She lived ... lives at 420 Fortune Drive, Building A, apartment 5.”

Though he didn’t need to, Max wrote it down. He’d learn a lot more from looking around Elena Talbot’s apartment than just what she smelled like, and he was glad for the chance to do it without Erica along. He had a feeling he would find things there that even her sister didn’t know about. His desire to protect Erica was starting to overwhelm him. He’d never felt like this before and it left him off balance and edgy.

He looked at the kitchen clock. He still had an hour until sunset.

“Come with me,” he said as he rose from his chair. He took Erica’s hand in his and tugged her toward the bedroom. “I want to show you something.”

She raised one perfect eyebrow. “Is it something I’ve seen before?” Her half smile ignited him and he growled as he dragged her into his arms.

“You’ve seen it before, but not up close.” He punctuated his words by cupping her rear and pulling her tight against him. The look in her eyes told him she understood exactly how much he wanted her.

She reached for the buttons of her blouse but he grabbed her hands and held them. “No. Everything stays on until I tell you to take it off.”

She sighed happily and her breathing grew shallow. “Do we have time...?”

“We have as long as it takes. I’m not leaving here until I’m done with you.”

The sound she made drove him over the edge and he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom.

It was well after six when he left.