Page 29 of Twilight Longings

“Damn, that doesn’t give you much choice, does it?”

“Tell me about it,” Saintcrow said ruefully. “The other night, when I refused to do what she wanted, she unleashed her power on me. The week she demanded is up in three days and I have a nasty suspicion she’s going to want three more. And three more after that.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Eleni is unpredictable, but she’s more than capable of killing Kadie if I don’t do what she says.”

“Well, damn,” Kincaid muttered. “Talk about a rock and hard place.”

“Yeah. Let me know if Izabela gets in touch with you again.”

“Right. Do you think that Methuselah Stone really exists?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

“Good luck with your sire,” Kincaid said, with a wry grin.

Saintcrow snorted. “I’ll need a hell of a lot more than luck.”

“Yeah.” Kincaid agreed. “Just like we’ll need more than luck to find that Stone, if it even exists.”

Chapter Twenty

Saintcrow huffed a sigh of resignation as he dressed for the evening. It was, hopefully, his last night of playing Eleni’s unwilling escort.

He arrived at her lair at the appointed time, knew he was in deep trouble when she opened the door wearing a long, transparent, black negligee. “You’re a little under-dressed, aren’t you?” he remarked. “I thought we were going to a concert.”

“I decided to stay in tonight.” She stepped back to allow him entrance.

Muttering, “Come in, said the spider to the fly,” Saintcrow crossed the threshold of his sire’s lair. He sucked in a breath when he felt her power seal the door closed behind him.

Hips swaying provocatively, her perfume trailing in her wake, she led the way into the living room. A fire crackled in the hearth, a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets waited on the coffee table. A young couple sat side-by-side on the plush, dove-gray sofa, staring blankly at nothing. Obviously under her thrall.

“I thought we’d dine in this evening,” Eleni purred, running her fingers through the young man’s curly brown hair.

“As you wish.”

She perched on the sofa beside the male. With regret, Saintcrow sat beside the woman. The minutes ticked by in silence. Saintcrow drank a little from the woman but found no pleasure in it.

When they finished, Eleni filled the goblets with wine and handed one to Saintcrow. “Nothing like a glass of fine wine after a good meal,” she murmured. “What shall we drink to?”

“Freedom?”

Eleni glared at him as she wiped the memory of what had transpired from the couple’s mind, released them from her thrall, and sent them away.

Saintcrow met her gaze. He didn’t move when she scooted closer to him. Or when she took his glass and set it on the coffee table, along with her own. Or when she laid her hand high on his thigh, her fingers spread wide.

She smiled when he sucked in a breath. “Tell me again that you don’t want me,” she whispered, her voice husky.

“I don’t want anything you’ve got. You can force me to stay with you. I suppose you could compel me to have sex with you, but you won’t get any real satisfaction out of it. I love Kadie, and I’m worried sick about her. Nothing else matters.”

Eleni watched him, her brow furrowed. He winced as he felt her mind brush his. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

Saintcrow nodded. “You’ve taken many men to your bed, Eleni, but you’ve never really loved any of them, have you?” he mused, as he divined her thoughts. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“I was hoping you would teach me.”

He shook his head. “Do your worst. It’s never going to—”