Dead Perfect

Page 49

“Maybe it’s time to put my old-fashioned ways behind me,” he said with a low growl, and claimed her lips again.
She couldn’t think, not when he was kissing her with such intensity. His mouth was hot and hungry on hers, stealing her breath so that she could scarcely breathe. She clung to him, her hands kneading his back and shoulders, her whole body trembling and aching for his touch.
“Shannah.” His voice was a groan, a plea.
“Maybe we should elope,” she said, her voice as desperate as his. “Now, tonight.”
He laughed hoarsely, then lifted her off his lap. “We’ve waited this long. Besides, I want that white dress to mean something when you wear it down the aisle.”
In the days before the wedding, Ronan continued to help Shannah adjust to her new lifestyle.
All the things she had anticipated with dread proved to be unfounded. Drinking blood wasn’t disgusting but pleasurable, not only for her, but for those she took it from. She reveled in her new powers, both mental and physical. Every emotion, every sense, was heightened. She saw and heard things more clearly, felt things more deeply. She learned to tune out the barrage of noise that assaulted her on every side.
She threw herself into a fit of redecorating until Ronan declared he didn’t recognize the house anymore. He was generous to a fault, never complaining no matter how much money she spent. It was such fun to shop without worrying about the cost, to buy whatever caught her fancy.
With her increased energy, it took her no time at all to repaint every room in the house.
Ronan watched, amused, as his bride-to-be transformed his dreary house into a home. Her taste ran to bright colors—a cheerful yellow for the kitchen that they no longer had any use for, pastel colors for the guestrooms, a deep blue for the bedroom that had been hers. She had decided this would be the room where they kept their clothing. She bought a new bedroom set because, as she said, while she didn’t mind sleeping in his lair down in the basement, she wanted this to be the room they used to change clothes and do the other things people usually did in the privacy of their bedroom.
“Like making love?” he had queried.
She had nodded, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink.
She bought new carpeting and new furniture for every room in the house, including his lair.
The one thing she was adamant about was sleeping in a casket. She simply refused to consider it.
“I don’t care if every vampire ever made slept in one,” she declared vehemently. “I won’t, and that’s all there is to it.”
She bought an antique four-poster bed, flowered sheets, and a wine-red comforter and carried it all down into his lair, advising him that he could sleep in his casket if he pleased, but she was sleeping in a bed.
To please her, and because he had no intention of sleeping alone once they were married, he got rid of the coffin that had been his resting place for the last few centuries.
Three days before the wedding, they flew to New York. Ronan had made reservations at the Waldorf and rented a new Cadillac, since they couldn’t just materialize in her parents’ living room. Shannah’s parents had invited them to stay at the house, but Shannah had politely refused, explaining that Ronan had business in the city and that it would be more convenient for them to stay in a hotel.
It grieved Shannah to lie to her parents but there was no other choice.
She was nervous the night they went to visit her parents for the first time since her transformation. What if they noticed the difference in her? She didn’t think she would be able to bear it if they turned away from her in horror.
“Relax,” Ronan said as they pulled up in front of her parents’ house. “It will be all right.”
Shannah took a deep breath. “I hope so, but…”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “No buts, love. Trust me.”
As it turned out, Ronan was right, as usual, and all her worrying was for nothing. Her parents were delighted to see her, naturally overjoyed that the doctors had been wrong in their diagnosis.
“You look wonderful, dear,” Verna said. “No one would ever know you’d been sick a day in your life.”
“You’re going to make a beautiful bride,” Mr. Davis said as he embraced his daughter.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Davis shook Ronan’s hand. “I hope you know what a lucky man you are,” he said gruffly.
“Yes, sir, I surely do,” Ronan replied. “And don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of her.”
“Well, I just hope the two of you will be as happy as Mother and I have been,” Davis said, “and that your marriage will last as long.”
Ronan looked over at Shannah and smiled. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jim Hewitt sat in a rental car outside the Davis home. It had been sheer luck that he had seen the vampire and the woman leave the vampire’s house the night before. But then, sometimes luck was the best thing a man could hope for.
He had called Overstreet, hoping for a little backup, but Carl had adamantly refused to get involved.
“I don’t believe in pressing my luck,” the newspaperman had said. “And you’re a damn fool if you go after that bloodsucker again. He’s a mean one.”
Hewitt had acknowledged that Overstreet was right, but it hadn’t kept him from following the vampire and the woman to the airport. He had managed to get a seat in coach on the same flight they were taking to New York. He had even managed to follow them to their hotel without being seen, obtained a room on the same floor, and made himself at home.
Being a vampire hunter made it easy to keep vampire hours. He slept during the day and rose a couple of hours before sunset. He showered and ate, then took up his post in the lobby where he could keep an eye on the stairs and the elevator.
He had cursed softly when he saw the vampire and the woman exit the elevator earlier that night. One look confirmed that the woman was head over heels in love with the vampire. She clung to him, her eyes filled with obvious adoration as they walked across the lobby, headed for the garage.
Hewitt followed the pair at a safe distance. Getting into his car, he had followed them out of the city, and now he was parked down the street from the girl’s house, waiting and watching.
And wondering what the devil he was doing there. Not long ago he had been determined to give up the hunt. Yet here he sat, his hands cupped around a mug of black coffee, quietly cursing himself for being the world’s biggest fool while he wondered if the girl’s parents had any idea what kind of vile creature they had welcomed into their home.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Shannah looked over at Ronan and smiled as he pulled onto the highway. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“My parents. They didn’t suspect a thing.”
“I’m always right,” he said with a wink.
“Always?”
He nodded, then swore under his breath when he glanced in the rear-view mirror.
“What’s the matter?” Shannah asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“That damn fool’s following us again.”
“Who?” she asked, then shook her head. “You don’t mean Hewitt?”
“He’s behind us.”
“He is?”
She turned in her seat this time, her gaze scanning the traffic behind them. “I don’t see him.”
“He’s in a black Taurus about six cars back.”
With a sigh, she settled in her seat again. “Why doesn’t he just go away and leave us alone? We aren’t hurting anyone. Oh! You don’t think he’ll show up at the wedding, do you?”
“I don’t know. I sure as hell hope not.”
“Maybe we should have eloped, after all.”
“I doubt it would have made any difference. The man’s as tenacious as a bull dog.”
“What if he…”
“Shannah, love, stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it.”
He laughed softly. She was quite a worrier, his bride-to-be.
And suddenly the night of the wedding was upon them. They hunted early that evening, quickly deciding on a young couple bound for the movies.
Shannah would have preferred to wait until later, but Ronan assured her that it would be wiser to feed now.
“It will add color to your cheeks,” he said with a wink.
Back at the hotel, Shannah was a bundle of nerves as she got ready to go to the church. She had intended to get dressed at the church so that Ronan wouldn’t see her in her gown before the ceremony and then, at the last minute, realized that it would never work because, of course, there would most likely be a mirror in the bride’s dressing room, and her mother was sure to notice that her daughter didn’t cast any reflection in the looking glass.
“If you don’t want me to see your gown, you can take the car and I’ll meet you at the church,”
Ronan suggested as Shannah reached for the phone to call her mother.
“No, it’s all right. Besides, I’ll need you to help me with that long row of hooks up the back of my dress.”
Ronan listened while Shannah explained that they were running late and she had decided to get dressed at the hotel.
“I’m sorry, love,” Ronan said as Shannah hung up the phone. “Was your mother very disappointed?”
Shannah shrugged. “It can’t be helped.”
Ronan drew her into his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes,” Shannah said, looking around the room, “help me find my other shoe!”
Ronan stood at the altar alongside Pete Sandoval, who had agreed to be his best man. Organ music filled the air. The light from dozens of long white tapers cast dancing shadows on the walls and the ceiling. There were white satin bows on the ends of the pews, a long white runner graced the center aisle.
Ronan concentrated on blocking the sound of half a hundred beating hearts. The sweet, faintly coppery tang of blood mingled with the fragrance of the flowers that lined the altar. He wondered how Shannah was holding up. Since she had been a vampire, they had avoided crowds in small spaces.