"Sleep." She felt the touch of his hand on her forehead and then it was gone. She
wanted to reach out, grab his hand and keep him with her, but it was too late. Stefan
was gone, vanished into the dawn as sleep claimed her.
Chapter Fourteen
Sun was streaming in through the window when Laurel Rose finally awoke.
Groaning, she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. Big mistake. The pillowcase
smelled like Stefan--hot, potent and very arousing. She'd already taken a deep breath,
inhaling his scent into her lungs before she realized what she was doing.
Giving a snort, she rolled over and stared at the ceiling, assessing her physical state.
Her temples still throbbed, but her neck and throat no longer felt tender. Stretching
slowly, she groaned as various minor aches and pains made themselves known. A hot
bath was definitely the first order of the day. Tossing back the covers and pushing
herself up, she slid her legs over the side of the bed. She rested her head in her hands
and sat there until the pounding subsided to a dull throb.
Her mental state was something else entirely. On the surface, her life was the same
as it had been yesterday morning. But in reality, everything had changed. Her whole
concept of what was real and what was fantasy had been challenged.
Vampire!
Laurel Rose had grown up in the North Carolina mountains surrounded by
superstition and folktales. Many folks believed in shapeshifters and thought that
unusual creatures roamed the hills at night. Some still consulted with the elders of the
area, seeking advice on everything from the proper time to plant crops to the best home
remedies.
A good portion of the population believed she was a witch. And as many folks who
feared her, there was always one or two brave souls a year who sought her counsel,
hoping she could tell them the future or make them a love potion. They always went
away disappointed.
But could she really believe in vampires? Raising her head, she stared through
blurry eyes. After last night, could she afford not to believe? So many jumbled thoughts
and no easy answers.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she launched herself from the bed. She was naked,
but she didn't even bother trying to find her dressing gown. What was the point? She
was only going to crawl straight into the bathtub.
Dragging herself from her bedroom, she stumbled down the hallway to the
bathroom. The sight that met her in the mirror was frightening. Her hair looked like a
rat's nest with a good portion of it straggling out of her braid. Her face was pale and
drawn and her eyes were bloodshot.
Whirling away from the less than inspiring image, she twisted the taps of the
bathtub to start the water running. She slowly pulled the ponytail holder from the end
of her hair and began to unwind her braid. When that was done, she knelt by the side of
the tub and stuck her head under the taps, wetting her hair before grabbing the
shampoo bottle. Lathering the shampoo into her hair, she massaged her aching scalp
before ducking back beneath the running water. When she was satisfied that her hair
was soap-free, she wrung the water from the wet locks and wrapped a towel around
her head.
Sighing, she rested her forehead against the cool white porcelain. Weary all the way
to her bones, it would have been so easy just to stay seated on the floor. Forcing herself
to sit back up, she put the stopper in the tub and watched as it began to fill with water.
Levering herself off the floor, she scrounged in the bathroom cabinets and poured
some of her homemade bath salts into the water. The familiar and comforting scent of
lavender drifted on the steam. Clutching a towel rack with one hand and resting the
other against the wall, she carefully stepped into the bathtub and eased herself down
into its waiting warmth.
The heat seeped into her body, past her stiff muscles and into the very marrow of
her bones. Turning off the taps, Laurel Rose leaned back against the curved foot of the
tub. Silence surrounded her as she allowed herself to drift, enveloped in the warmth
and the quiet. Pushing all thoughts from her mind, she soaked her aching body and
eased her sore muscles. When the water finally began to cool, she pulled herself up and
stepped out onto the bathmat.
Pulling the plug, she let the tub drain as she plucked a fluffy towel off a hook and
dried the water from her body. She took her time, smoothing lotion onto her legs and
arms and over her stomach and breasts. Unwinding the towel from around her head,
she used a wide-tooth comb to remove the tangles from her hair before blowing it dry.
She braided her long black hair, comforted by the familiar routine while keeping her
mind as blank as possible.
She hung the damp towels to dry and rinsed out the tub before laying the bathmat
over the side. Once she'd brushed her teeth, she made her way back to her bedroom to
dress. After she pulled on a pair of white cotton panties and a matching bra, she tugged
on a pair of faded, well-worn jeans. She topped it with a deep blue, long-sleeved cotton
shirt before sitting on the side of the bed and tugging on a pair of socks and her
comfortable brown boots.
As much as she just wanted to walk out of the room, her own sense of order
wouldn't allow her to leave the bed a mess. She knew she should change the sheets, but
for now, she settled on just making the bed. When that was done, she headed
downstairs to the kitchen.
Starting a pot of coffee brewing, she tossed out her uneaten sandwich from the
night before. Then she assembled and wrapped a couple of peanut butter sandwiches
and tucked them, an apple and a granola bar into her knapsack. While she waited for
the coffee, she wandered over to her desk in a corner of the kitchen. She knew that most
folks would be surprised to find that she had a laptop computer, fax and printer, but
Laurel Rose was no fool. She'd set up a small mail-order company that allowed her to
sell her hooked rugs and soaps online. The income helped her survive through the slow
winter months when the local market was closed and there were no tourists around.
Ignoring her e-mail, she began her search. A half-hour later, she had a fairly large
stack of paper on her desk, all filled with the lore and history of the vampire. Shutting
down her computer, she pushed away from her desk, clutching the printouts in her
hand. She carried them back to the counter and stuffed them into the knapsack.
The coffee was ready, so she filled a large thermal mug with the dark brew before
pouring the rest into a thermos bottle that went straight into the sack alongside the
food. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she paused by the back door long enough to
grab her rifle and jacket. She closed the door behind her, checking to make sure it was
locked before turning to greet the day.
From the position of the sun, it was almost noon. Laurel Rose wasn't wearing a
watch, but then, she didn't need one here in the hills. She measured time from sunrise
to sunset and today she had nowhere that she needed to be. Right now, she needed to
clear her head and think and there was only one place she could do that.
The air was crisp, but the sun warmed her shoulders as she stepped off the porch
and into the yard. The light breeze whispered through the trees, calling her to come and
play. The birds sang as they flew though the air and Laurel Rose could not resist their
song. Taking a sip of her coffee, she headed for a slight break in the trees at the end of
the yard and to a path that was all but hidden from sight. If you didn't know it was
there, you'd miss it totally. But Laurel Rose knew where she was going. This was her
land and there wasn't a single square inch of it that she hadn't walked.
Like countless times before in her life, when she needed to sort out her thoughts
and gain strength for the trials ahead of her, she returned to the land. The earth
nourished her soul and strengthened her body in a way that most people didn't
understand. Her headache lessened with every step she took and her limp was hardly
noticeable as she tramped through the woods toward her destination.
She'd hiked for more than an hour before she finally stopped. The flat stones jutted
out, giving her a spectacular view of her own land and beyond. The tall trees, the
mountains in the distance and the sheltered valley below were painted in the
breathtaking reds and golds of autumn. She loved this time of year and the sight never
failed to move her soul no matter how many times she saw it. Rugged, untamed and at
times unforgiving, it was nevertheless her home.
Laying her bag down, she stretched out on the rocks, propping her back against a
boulder. She placed her rifle within easy grasp, tugged her knapsack into her lap and
unpacked her lunch. When she'd satisfied the worst of her hunger, she hauled out the
sheaf of papers and began to read. Munching on an apple and sipping her coffee, she
read page after page about the history of the vampire. Most of it she scoffed at, but
other things... Well, some of it was very believable.
When she finished, she tucked it and the remains of her lunch into her bag and
leaned back against the rock to think. She knew Stefan was a strong psychic. The power
she'd felt flowing from him indicated that she'd only seen the tip of the iceberg where
he was concerned. He'd definitely taken her blood. She had a very vivid memory of
that.
The real question was, how did she really feel about that? She forced herself to
examine what she felt for Stefan. Even though she'd known him only a short time, she
trusted him more than she ever had any other person in her entire life.