Shadows Strike(5)
Heather secretly cringed at the huge box of tampons that sat front and center on the shelf above the towels.
Ethan didn’t seem to notice it, though.
Hell, he was a vampire. He might not even know what they were for.
Pouring some alcohol on the towel, he looked down at her and raised his eyebrows.
Gritting her teeth, she nodded.
Fire flashed through her hands and up her arms when he applied the towel to her scrapes.
Tossing the towel aside, he bent his head and blew on the throbbing cuts.
Even his warm breath on her skin made her pulse race.
“Better?” he asked, his face close to hers.
“Yes, thank you.”
Straightening, he took her hands in his own and held them. “How did I do?”
She raised her eyebrows. “What?”
“I only recently started learning first aid. You’re the first person I’ve tended. So . . . how did I do?”
What was it about him that kept making her want to smile? “You did well.”
He grinned that heart-stopping grin of his. “Excellent.” Raising her hands, he pressed a quick kiss to the back of each, then released them and grabbed his bag.
While she stood there, stunned, her skin tingling from the touch of his soft lips, he motioned for her to precede him out of the bathroom.
Heather led him back into the den.
“Shall we sit?” he asked.
The fact that he was so sweet and polite only made the situation seem more surreal. A kind vampire with exceptional manners who was learning to administer first aid to humans in need?
“This is so weird,” she repeated as she sat on the sofa.
Again he laughed, then grimaced. “I thought I told you not to make me laugh.” He seated himself beside her, a few feet away. Swiveling to face her, he propped an ankle on the opposite knee and draped his muscled arm across the back of the sofa.
Damn, he looked good.
He’s a vampire, Heather! Get a grip!
“Why were you fighting those vampires?” she asked. As that odd numbness finally wore off, question after question flooded her mind. “They looked like they were trying to kill you.”
“They were.”
“Why?” Was it a territorial thing? she wondered.
“Because I was hunting them.”
She stared at him. “You were hunting vampires?”
“Yes.” His face sobered. “Those vampires were insane, Heather. They preyed upon humans, torturing them and killing them at will. I couldn’t allow that.”
There were good vampires and bad vampires?
Not too surprising, she supposed. There were good humans and bad humans, after all.
“Why did they shrivel up like that?”
“That’s what happens to vampires when they die.”
She eyed him with disquiet. “So . . . that’s what would happen to you if you died?”
“Yes.”
“That’s messed up.”
He shrugged. “Every living thing decomposes when it dies. We just decompose a little faster.”
A lot faster. Too fast to even bury. “Will more vampires come looking for the ones we killed?”
A look of unease swept over his handsome features. “I can’t rule it out.” He glanced at the curtain-cloaked windows, then met her gaze. “It would be best if I stayed until sunrise. I’d like to be here to protect you in case more of their ilk should follow their friends to the clearing and trace our scents here.”
Crap. “Should I be worried?” she asked, fear resurfacing.
He shook his head. “Vampires can’t bear any level of sun exposure, so you’ll be safe during the day. And it’s supposed to rain this evening. That will wash away our scents. If you can stand having me around that long, I’ll stay until then to ensure your safety.”
She said nothing.
“Heather?”
“I’m sorry. This is just a lot to take in. I went from believing vampires only existed in my dreams, fiction, and folklore, to helping one vampire defeat seven others, and am now being asked if one can spend the day with me.”
He tilted his head to one side. “You mentioned something earlier about a dream. I thought you were just in shock at the time. Are you saying you dream about vampires?”
She studied him. “You’re on the up-and-up, right? I mean, fangs and glowing eyes aside, you seem like a nice guy.” He could have killed her several times over by now if he had been anything else.
“I am. You can trust me, Heather. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She hesitated, wanting to trust him, but . . .
“If I were like the ones we destroyed earlier, I would have already tortured and killed you by now,” he added, his words mirroring her thoughts.
He didn’t pull any punches, did he?
And both knew he spoke the truth. It was why she hadn’t fought his coming inside. She had seen his incredible speed and strength. Had known windows and doors would’ve proven no deterrent to someone that powerful. Yet he had suggested they speak inside.
And she had wanted to understand those dreams. What better way than by asking the star of them?
Heather drew in a deep breath. “I don’t dream about vampires in general. I dream about the vampires we fought together this morning.” She met his curious gaze. “I dream about you, Ethan.”
Ethan blinked. “You dream about me?”
How the hell was that possible? They hadn’t even met until half an hour ago.
“Yes.”
“So when you were ranting about wanting to wake up earlier . . .”
“I thought that what happened this morning was another dream.”
He frowned.
“I know it sounds crazy,” she said with a sigh, “but I’ve had the same vivid dream almost every night for a year now. I’m sitting in a clearing.” She pointed in the direction of the meadow in which the melee had taken place. “That clearing. I’m surrounded by lawn lights. I’m reading an eBook. I look at my watch. It says 5:43. I hear a rustling sound. A breeze stirs the fog that creeps across the ground. I hear distant voices, followed by what sounds like a large animal barreling through the forest toward me. I grab my gun. You and seven vampires—the same seven vampires you fought this morning—burst into the clearing. I freeze. You tell me to shoot them. I fire my weapon. Then the alarm wakes me up.”
Understanding dawned. “You thought your alarm had malfunctioned.”
“Yes. At least, I hoped it had.”
“You have the same dream every night?”
“Almost every night,” she corrected.
“Nothing in it ever changes?”
“Nothing.”
He smiled. “You must be a gifted one.”
Her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. A what?”
“A gifted one. A human born with special abilities other humans don’t possess.”
She blanched. “W-why would you think I was different from other humans?”
“You clearly have precognitive abilities. Your dream foretold the future.”
She relaxed a little. “No. I’m not . . . I don’t have precognitive abilities.”
“Sure you do. The dream told you you’d meet me.”
“But that’s never happened before. If I were precognitive or whatever, wouldn’t I have been like that all my life? Wouldn’t I have had other dreams that predicted the future?”
He lost his smile. “This has never happened before?”
“No.”
Puzzled, he pondered that. Gifted ones were born with their abilities and began using them at a very early age. They didn’t just suddenly gain abilities in their twenties. “If you aren’t a precog, why did you look so uneasy when I suggested you were different from other humans?” He heard her heart begin to pound as a spark of fear entered her lovely brown eyes. “Do you possess other gifts or abilities?”
She remained silent.
“It’s okay, Heather,” he assured her. “You can tell me. I’m different, too.”
Her lips twitched. “The fangs, glowing eyes, and super speed kinda clued me in to that.”
Ethan laughed, ignoring the pain that shot through his back. He really liked this woman. “I was different before my transformation.”
Heather studied him. “Are you saying you are a—what was it—a gifted one?”
“Yes.”
“What are your abilities?”
“I just have one, which I’m afraid is pretty boring.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
He sent her a wry smile. “I have what you might call a photographic memory, raised to the nth power.”
She frowned. “You remember everything you read?”
“Everything I read, see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. I remember every detail of every minute I’ve ever lived.”
She stared, her expression saying, Really? That’s it?
Ethan grinned. “I told you. Boring as hell, right?”
“No,” she very kindly lied. “Not at all.”
“What’s the earliest memory you can dredge up?” he asked.
She thought about it for a moment. “My granddad giving me a puppy when I was three or four.”
“Where were you?”
“I think we were in the living room of my grandparents’ home.”
“What shirt was he wearing?”
She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know. I think something light.”
“Was it day or night?”