“He’s sure to make them angry with his obnoxious demands, and Aidan is well known to the local police. He always donates to their causes, and he’s been careful to maintain a good relationship with them. I don’t think Mr. Ivan is much of a threat, but I want to take a look around and make certain everything is in place for their upcoming official visit,” Stefan reassured her.
“We can always have them talk to Joshua if we have to,” Marie suggested, vaguely uneasy, as she always was when Aidan was vulnerable.
“It will not come to that,” Stefan assured her.
* * *
Chapter Eight
The sun sank into the sea with a brilliant explosion of colors. Then the fog unexpectedly rolled in, a white, eerie haze that hung low over rooftops and streets, inching through the dark alleys and parks, until it filled them completely. No wind came to move the veil, and cars had to crawl from block to block.
Midnight. Aidan clawed his way to the surface. Hungry. Ravenous. Eyes red-rimmed and glowing with fierce need. His insides twisted and rolled. Cells and tissues cried out, demanding nourishment.
The loud sound of hearts beating close by, calling, beckoning, nearly drove him mad. His face was pale, almost gray, his skin dry and lined, his mouth parched. Fangs dripped with anticipation, and long, razor-sharp nails tipped his fingers.
For a moment his eyes rested on the lifeless body lying so still beside him in the open earth. Alexandria. His lifemate. His very salvation. The one thing standing between him and the fate his kind dreaded. Because of her he would not turn, would not become vampire, the undead. She had freely given her life for his. She had sealed their fates as nothing else could have, irrevocably bound herself to him for all eternity. She had chosen life for him; therefore, she had chosen it for herself. It didn’t matter to him that she wasn’t aware, exactly, of what she was doing. It had been done.
She needed blood. Her situation was even more desperate than his. He could not wake her until he could feed her. Her body was depleted, and without nourishment to revive her, she could not remain alive more than a few scant moments.
He smelled blood. Warm and fresh. Beating, surging, ebbing and flowing like the timeless call of the ocean itself. The demon inside roared and raged, desperate for control, yet desperate to save his lifemate. Desperate to feed the gnawing, clawing hunger. A man. A woman. A child. Aidan pulled back from the brink of disaster just in time, controlling himself enough to make the necessary preparations.
Minutes later he sped through the narrow underground tunnel, a blur of speed so fast that even a mouse would not detect his presence. He exhibited no traces of blood or dirt. His clothes were elegant, his hair clean and secured in a thick ponytail at the nape of his neck. He traversed the stone passageway into the basement without mishap. As he placed his hand on the door leading to the kitchen, he detected the presence of the woman entering the room from another door. For a moment his heart accelerated in excitement, and saliva anticipated his repast, but he fought down the responses. With his forehead resting against the door, he concentrated on reaching the woman mentally, on removing her from harm’s way.
Marie would find herself inexplicably in the front room, but it would save her from the haunting hunger growing with every step Aidan took. The moment she was at a safe distance from him, he glided through the kitchen and out into the garden.
Instantly the smells saturating the night air assaulted his senses, flooded him, told stories. Only feet away a rabbit crouched, frozen with fear, aware of the deadly predator hunting blood. Its heart thudded wildly. In the houses up the street he knew where each warm body was and what it was doing—sleeping, snacking, making love, fighting. A veil of fog surrounded him, cloaked him, became a part of him.
Three days and two nights he had lain in the ground healing. With a new infusion of blood, he would be stronger than ever. Hunger fought for control, and he snarled and launched himself into the sky, more dangerous than anything Thomas Ivan had ever conceived. He was hunting living, breathing, human prey, and those moving below him were at risk this night that for once he might not stop his feeding in time to spare their lives.