A dark shadow detached itself from the bathroom. Evie jerked backward, her shoulders hitting the wall as the shadow moved into the room. No, not a shadow, a man. There was a stranger in her home.
Oh God. It’s him. The man who’s been stalking me.
He wasn’t overly tall, but he had at least half a foot on her. He was dressed in black slacks, shiny shoes and a long wool overcoat. He looked harmless enough with dark-brown hair and brown eyes. But looks were deceiving. Pure evil surrounded him.
Why hadn’t she seen him or at least felt his presence? How had he gotten into her home?
Panic threatened to choke her. Evie scrambled toward the door, her fingers clawing at the locks. She had to get away.
Male laughter taunted her as he moved closer. “You can’t escape me.”
1Vladimir Drake watched the woman tugging at the locks on her door, enjoying her panic. Her fear smelled sweet and heightened his anticipation. He’d been following her for several weeks now.
Evie Pelowski’s paintings had caught his eye and the artist herself had fired his bloodlust.
He licked his lips and prowled toward her. That was the problem with being as old as he was—he’d done it all, seen it all and was bored. But Evie with her long black hair, almond-shaped green eyes and unique artistic talent was exotic, different.
Rather than discard her after he’d gorged on her blood, as he’d done with hundreds of beautiful women over the years, he followed her. Every night he watched her, enjoying her growing trepidation, laughing as her terror of him mounted.
He felt like a god. Was a god.
He was invincible.
“You cannot escape me.” He pushed a fair amount of compulsion through his voice.
She stopped trying to open the locks and faced him. “Who are you?”
He smiled and stopped two feet away from her. “I have had many names over the years. I was born two hundred years ago as Richard Locke in Kent, England. Now I go by the name Vladimir Drake, but you may call me Vladimir.
Much more fitting, don’t you think?”
“What do you want with me?”
He frowned when she didn’t comment on his name. He’d expected better from her. More. Of course, she had no idea just who he was yet, what he was. That was about to change. He’d played with her long enough.
“I’ve chosen to give you a great gift, Evie.” Her eyes widened when he said her name. He took a step toward her and she took one away, moving back toward the small kitchenette.
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.” She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a knife. “Stay back.”
Vlad laughed, pleased by her puny show of defiance. “I will enjoy teaching you your new place in life.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” She waved the knife toward him, but he barely noticed. All his attention was on the throbbing vein in her neck and the pounding of her heart. He licked his lips again and his fangs elongated.
Her face paled and terror enveloped her like a fine perfume. It intoxicated him and fanned the flames of his bloodlust.
“You’ll be mine. Forever.” Vlad sprang and slapped the knife out of her hand. He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to him. He struck hard and fast, driving his fangs into her neck. She screamed and fought, her small fists striking his face and chest. He tightened his hold on her until he felt her bones crunch beneath his hands. No matter. The change would heal her.
He was going to keep Evie with him forever. Or at least until he tired of her.
Chapter One
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Craig Lawton pried his eyes open and reached for his phone, which was buried under the mess of papers, takeout containers and empty coffee mugs that littered his desk. The muscles in his back and neck protested and he swore under his breath. He knew who was calling but glanced at the Caller ID display just to be certain.
“Hey, Meredith.” Meredith Striker was a ninety-year-old werewolf who looked more like a very hot thirty-five.
She owned and ran Haven, a jazz/blues club in the heart of Wicker Park, Chicago. She was also a good friend.
“You sound tired. Are you taking care of yourself while your family is away?” Meredith’s smooth sultry voice made him smile. She mothered everyone around her.
“I’m good.” He pulled the phone away from his mouth while he yawned.
“I stayed up late working last night and was taking a nap.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He could hear the concern in her voice and it warmed him.
“It’s probably just as well.” He really should shower and get something to eat.
“You fell asleep at your desk again, didn’t you?” She already knew the answer to that question. She’d been a good friend for five years now and knew him well.
“I wanted to finish the coding on this latest game I’m developing. I worked out the couple of remaining glitches and sent off the final version last night.” He rubbed his hand over his head. “Or maybe it was early this morning. Either way, it’s done and out of my hands.”
He’d get royalties as well as an upfront payment once his latest fantasy quest game made it to market next year.
“I spent the rest of the day catching up on paperwork I’d put off to work on the game.” Craig handled the investments for his family and some of his friends. It was time-consuming, but he enjoyed playing the stock market and making money.
“You need to take some time off.
Have you thought about joining Quinn and Chrissten in Wolf Creek?”
Just the thought of him, a human, in the midst of a small community entirely made up of werewolves made him smile. “No. They need time to spend time alone with their father and I need some time to myself.” He loved his half brother and sister, but it wasn’t always easy being the only human among paranormal creatures. They tended to hover sometimes. Besides, they’d only discovered their father five years ago, and their relationship with him was still tenuous at best.
“I’m pushing, aren’t I?” Meredith sighed. “I’ll back off, I promise. It’s just that I promised Chrissten I’d keep an eye on you while they were away.”
Craig chuckled and leaned back in his leather desk chair. “Meredith, I just turned twenty-six, I’m not exactly a child.” It both amused and annoyed him how they all treated him as though he was a kid because he was the youngest of the group.
“I know. I know.” Music played in the background and Craig checked his watch. It was just after five in the evening so Haven was open for business. “Come to the club later,” she coaxed. “Spend some time and get something to eat.”
“Maybe.” Craig stood and stretched and several bones in his neck and back made a popping sound. He swallowed back a groan. “I’m going to get a shower and something to eat. I may just go to bed after that.”
Meredith laughed. “That might be for the best. If you change your mind we’re just down the road.”
“Thanks, Meredith.” Craig ended the call and tucked his phone into his back pocket before staring at the mess that was his office. “Shit.” He took off his wire-rimmed glasses and cleaned the lenses on the edge of his shirt. He’d really let the place go while he’d been working. With his siblings away it was easier to do because no one was checking on him every day.
Not that he truly minded. He loved his family, loved having them all under one roof, but he was glad they all had their own apartments in the building they jointly owned. He needed his own space.
First things first. Craig trudged out to the kitchen, grabbed a garbage bag and returned to the office. A pizza box, Chinese takeout cartons and several foam trays with leftovers he couldn’t identify were pitched into the bag. Paper bags, napkins and half-used condiments followed. When he could see his desk once again, he shoved all the mugs together. There were eight of them.