Stefan's Salvation(13)

breakfast will do that to a girl." She offered a smile with her plausible explanation and

was relieved when Karen accepted it without question.

The waitress patted her arm and picked up her tray. "I've done that a time or two,

myself. Now you holler if you need anything else." Laurel Rose just nodded and

watched as the other woman hurried back to work.

Forcing her hands to move, she poured herself a cup of tea. She ignored the milk

and sugar and picked up the cup and took a sip of the hot tea, letting it flow down her

throat and settle in her stomach. Her temples were throbbing, but she ignored the pain.

Carefully placing her cup back on the table, she picked up her fork and dug into the pie.

It smelled and looked delicious, but Laurel Rose could barely taste it as she

automatically chewed and swallowed.

She ate the slice of pie one bite at a time, concentrating on the mundane action of

eating. It helped to center her and calmed the pain in her head slightly. By the time her

plate was empty, she was feeling somewhat better. Sipping her tea, she settled back

against the leather bench and listened. After all, that's why she'd come.

"There's talk they might break ground in the spring on that new resort." Laurel

Rose's ears perked up as the men two booths down from her began to talk.

"I heard that they didn't have all the land they needed," the older man speculated.

"That won't be a problem," the younger man snorted. "They'll get what they want.

We need the jobs around here."

"Some things're more important than just having jobs. Like family and tradition.

Too many young folks up and leaving."

"Because they can't find jobs," he argued. "Besides, some folks don't have any

family or kin. Why would they even want to stay?" He stared right at Laurel Rose as he

uttered those words.

Sighing, she put down her teacup, not wanting any more of the warm brew that

was suddenly bitter in her mouth. She wiped her hands on her napkin, tossed the

crumpled paper on the table and gathered her purse into her arms. She'd learn nothing

new here. It was the same arguments over and over again. Some folks believed she

should hang onto family land, but others argued she didn't have any family to pass it

on to, so what was the point? Then there were the folks who just wanted honest jobs.

She couldn't fault them for that, but they weren't the ones who'd lose their homes.

Sliding out of the booth, she made her way toward the front counter to pay. All

eyes were on her as she walked across the room. Her limp was slightly more

pronounced as she was tired after her long day at the market. Sitting behind her table

selling her goods was harder than working outdoors all day because the inactivity

made her leg stiffen up.

"Witch," someone hissed as she passed a table filled with men. Tilting her chin

higher, she ignored them as she walked blindly past. Her stomach was churning with

anxiety. All she wanted was to leave this place. She was slowly coming to the

conclusion that she should never have come here.

As the waitress rang up her bill, Laurel Rose could see the pity in her eyes and she

hated it. Tears of frustration burned in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She didn't

need or want pity. All she wanted was to be treated the same as everyone else, and if

they couldn't manage that, then all she wanted was to be left alone.

Handing the woman a five-dollar bill, she thanked her and left the diner as quickly

as she could, not even bothering to wait for her change. She just needed to get away

from people. Away from their condemnation. Away from their pity. Away from their

never-ending speculation about her.

She'd been fortunate to find a parking spot close to the diner and for that she was

thankful. Usually the place was so busy that there were no parking spots to be found

and folks were forced to park some distance away and walk. Sliding into the dubious

safety of her truck, she jammed her key in the ignition and started her vehicle. Backing

away from the building, she could feel the eyes of the people inside still watching her.

Carefully, she drove down the street and headed out of town. Mayor Jenkins

watched her from the steps of the town hall. There was no smile on his face as she

passed him. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white as she

maneuvered through the quiet streets and onto the highway toward home.

Just on the outskirts of town, she passed the small white church. It looked so

innocent and quaint with its white picket fence and stone pathway leading from the

road to the front doors. The stained glass windows glowed orange, green, red and blue

in the setting sunshine, depicting their biblical scenes of redemption and salvation. But

there was a malevolence seeping from the depths of the building and Laurel Rose

believed it all centered around the man standing at the top of the three stone steps that

led inside.

Jeremiah Stoner stood as still as a statue, framed by the open doors of his church.

Tall and austere, he was both judge and jury and she could feel his condemnation as if it

were a physical blow. Dressed all in black with his Bible clasped to his chest, he made

quite an intimidating figure. But Laurel Rose knew that the darkness in his soul was

blacker than the clothing he wore. She had felt it on many occasions. He was good at

blocking his thoughts from others just as she was, and still she felt the waves of anger

and fanaticism from his mind.

Shivering, she forced herself to keep a steady pace as she drove past him, even

though she wanted nothing more than to push the pedal to the floor. She'd make it

home before dark, but barely. Exhaustion threatened to swamp her, but she ruthlessly

pushed it back. There would be no rest for her tonight. She'd have to be on guard from

here on against attacks from Aaron and Clem and others like them.

And then there was Stefan.





Chapter Nine



Stefan leaned against an old pine tree and watched Laurel Rose through the kitchen

window. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a plain white blouse. She wore no

makeup or jewelry and her long hair was once again confined to a braid that bounced

and swung as she moved about the kitchen. It was just after dusk and she hadn't turned

on any lights yet, but he could still see her perfectly. The stubborn tilt of her chin made

him smile even as the long, delicate curve of her neck enticed him. He longed to rub his

face against her skin, smell her unique scent and taste the salt from her flesh before

sinking his fangs into her and nourishing himself with her blood.

He licked his lips as his fangs lengthened. Tonight. He had to taste her tonight.

He'd hated being locked away in his truck in a deathlike sleep while she'd been going

about her daily business. It had amazed him that her fear had cut through his sleep,

waking him enough that he could sense what was going through her mind. The fury

that had coursed through his veins when he realized that she felt threatened by

someone had made him long to be able to go to her.

Instead, he'd been forced to lie there, helpless to do anything to protect Laurel Rose

or alleviate her unease. He'd tried to send her some of his strength, feeding his own

powers into her so that she could protect herself. Once again, he'd been surprised by the

sheer amount of power and courage that she possessed on her own.

In all his existence, the only thing that had ever completely woken him from his

deathlike sleep had been the day his mother had been murdered. He'd never shared

that horrifying experience with anyone. Not even his brothers.

Even now, his heart still pounded and he broke out into a cold sweat when he

remembered that day. He'd felt her die, felt the excruciating pain she'd experienced and

knew the exact moment that she'd gasped her last breath. But worse, he'd known her

thoughts. Her concern had not been for herself, but for her husband and her children.

And her very last thought had been for her youngest son. Him.

He suspected that Laurel Rose had much in common with his mother. She

possessed the same kind of inner strength and courage. And if they were this connected

already and he hadn't even tasted her blood, then he couldn't imagine what it would be

like once he'd fed from her and she had become a part of him. Sex between them would

be explosive, strengthening their bond, as they merged their bodies and their minds.

Images flickered though his mind. Sensual pictures of him and Laurel Rose tangled

together as they made love in every way imaginable. His thoughts ran the entire gamut

as he pictured himself taking his time and pleasuring her slowly and thoroughly and

then fucking her hard and fast. His blood pumped through his veins and his cock

throbbed in response to his thoughts, making his black jeans feel much too tight.

Grunting, he reached down and adjusted his erection, trying to alleviate some of the

throbbing ache. He'd been as hard as a rock since he'd awakened at dusk and

daydreaming about Laurel Rose certainly wasn't helping matters.

He'd taken the time to bathe in a small stream not far from where he'd parked his

truck. It wasn't an ideal setup. Usually he rented a motel room, using the facilities to

clean up even if he didn't stay there. But there were no motels around the area and he

didn't want to waste time driving until he found one.

Pushing away from the tree he'd been leaning against, he sauntered toward the

house. He went straight up the three steps that led to the back door, gave the handle a

quick twist and pushed the door open.