I left her with him.

On the long and dusty walk back to the ranch, I wondered why I had thought it acceptable for Ian to cut me, while I was upset that he cut a very eager Tiffany. Was it because I saw her as clueless and deluded; was I really so much more aware?

A car slowed down beside me and I glanced over to see Oswald's sedan. The window slid down and he said, "Want a ride?"

I kicked my foot to get a pebble out of my sandal and said, "What are you doing here?" I got into the car.

"There was another attack on an animal and I got worried. I called Ian and he told me you'd left."

"What kind of attack?"

"Sheep two ranches over had their throats slit." He glanced at me and I could see his concern. "Ernie said they were drained of blood."

"Daisy!" I said.

"Looks like that wasn't an accident." His kind of fabulous face looked troubled. "Milagro, what were you doing walking back tonight? Why didn't Ian give you a lift home?"

"Ian was occupied," I said. "I'd really rather not talk about it."

Oswald was good enough to respect my request and left me to mull over the unfortunate scene at the carriage house and the animal deaths. Blood was all around.

Chapter Twenty-eight

too hot to handle

The day was sunny and lovely, giving no indication of trouble nearby. Sam, Oswald, Edna, Winnie, and Ernie were conferring in the kitchen about the animal killings. Cornelia sat on a counter, drinking something that looked like tomato juice. "Ernie,"

Oswald said, "put the horses in the small turnout where we can keep an eye on them, and I want the other animals in the stalls."

"Why do you think someone's doing this?" Winnie asked.

"Sadism," Edna suggested.

Sam looked concerned. "I checked with the sheriff's office. They're talking about ritual killings. Satanic practices."

"That's unbelievable," Edna scoffed, and then she saw our guilty expressions. "What?"

Sam was the one brave enough to tell her. "There are some local Satanists, vampire-wannabes," he said. "They looked harmless enough. We stopped in at one of their parties..."

"What!" Oswald said. "When you know that CACA is after us? Have you lost your mind, Sam?"

"Don't blame him," Cornelia said. "Ian took us and we had no idea what to expect. It was quite droll."

"Droll?" Winnie said. "They may be killing animals."

"Doesn't that kind of thing happen in the country all the time?" Cornelia asked. "Crop signs, animal slaughter, alien abductions..." Her nose wrinkled with distaste and she added, "Bad perms."

Ernie shrugged. "Maybe four years ago, a coupla cats got hung from trees. They figured it was some kids."

"You see, it is of no import." Cornelia turned to me. "Milagro, if I could have a word?"

If she wanted me to go out with her and Ian, I'd have to think of some excuse. "Sure." I poured myself a cup of coffee and we went to the study.

When we were settled on the sofa, I said, "What's up?"

Her smile was sympathetic. "Milagro, Ian's told me that you had a falling-out last night. He thinks it was most unfortunate."

"It was unfortunate," I admitted. "I hope that you and I can remain friends."

Her bony hand reached out and she lightly ran her red nails across my wrist. "I wanted us to be more than friends. This is very sudden, I know, but I've seen how Ian feels about you, and I thought that you and I might be sisters someday."

I shook my head, amazed. "No, that can't be. I will never feel that way about him."

Sam came into the room and we both turned to him. "Sam, darling," Cornelia cooed. "Please try to convince Milagro to give my brother another opportunity to win her affections. She's being very unreasonable."

Sam said evenly, "Milagro is entitled to make her own decisions. If she doesn't want a relationship with Ian..."

"How can she know what she wants?" Cornelia demanded, eerily echoing my own words about Tiffany. Cornelia faced me and said, "You will never have this chance again. Ian can give you everything you've ever dreamed of and all you have to do is lie back and let him take a sip now and then."

Previous Her comment took Sam by surprise. He looked at me and I nodded guiltily.

"Now, Milagro," Cornelia continued, "women have always loved him and men, too. Don't tell me that a common Mexican girl is going to deny him?" Her voice was sweet, but her eyes glittered with anger.

"You underestimate the determination of common Mexican girls," I said icily. "I am not going to change my mind."

"Is it because you're jealous?" she asked with a little laugh. "So what if he drank the blood of some tramp? Is that reason for you to run off like a stupid child? Don't be so provincial."

"He did what?" Sam asked, taken aback.

"That hotel girl," Cornelia said dismissively. "She was a willing thrall. He even paid her, which shows his generosity when so many beg to serve him."

"Cornelia, surely you can see how wrong that is?" Sam said.

"In a committed relationship there can be an agreement about some activities, but-"

"Sam, my brother and I are vampires. We are proud to live as vampires. We take whom we desire, when we desire. We may drink animal blood in a barn out of politeness to our hosts, but we don't cower from the world."

He comprehended the full force of her insult even as she did not. "I'm very sorry you feel that way, Cornelia. I do not approve of such selfish, amoral behavior, regardless of its legality."

Seeing that she had gone too far, Cornelia retreated. "Oh, Sam, this is our first argument! We have so much time to reconcile our differing ideas-"

"I'm afraid not," he said firmly. "Cornelia, it was a pleasure to have you and your brother visit us. We do hope to see you sometime in the future."

"But, Sam," she began. When she saw his resolution, she recovered with chilly aplomb. "Yes, it has been a lovely visit. Please tell the others that I've remembered another engagement. Other parties, other resorts," she said, "so many other lovers..." She strode out of the room without looking back.

When we heard her sharp heels on the stairs, Sam said, "Sorry about that, Young Lady."

"Are you sure you want her to leave?"

"Yes." He sat on the edge of his desk and massaged his forehead. "I'd heard about their ways, but I found myself compromising because I liked Cornelia's attention. So I ignored that biker in Lower Sky and the party of 'vampyres.' And you, too. That was my fault."

"It happens to the best of us."

"I gather that Ian proffered a long-term agreement."

"If that's lawyer talk for a serious relationship, yes," I said. "He's like a force of nature."

"So are you," said Sam. "That's what he saw in you."

"I think she really liked you, Sam," I said, trying to console him. "Were you falling in love with her?"Sam shook his head sadly. "I have an idea of the kind of woman I want. Cornelia isn't it."

We stayed in the study until we heard cars come and go, the docs off to work and Cornelia leaving. Then Sam started making phone calls about the animal killings. I took my typewriter outside. The other dogs were locked in the barn, but I kept Daisy beside me in the fenced garden.

I would have liked to talk to someone about Ian, but I couldn't even think of revealing the tawdry details of our intimacy to Winnie or Edna. I kept telling myself that I hadn't done anything wrong.

The day progressed into a quiet evening. Winnie told us that Cornelia had joined her brother at the hotel and would leave tomorrow. I felt everyone's eyes upon me and Edna said, "I told him to be careful with you, but no one listens to me."

The next morning, a horse was found eviscerated at the stables on the outskirts of town. Ernie found out through the Mexican- worker grapevine that the entrails had been arranged in a pentagram. The heart was missing.

A wire report of the animal killings went out and a few reporters started drifting into town, asking questions about ritual sacrifices. Some of the more racist locals were claiming that these were Santeria practices and wanted to round up all the immigrants for questioning. "Stay at the house," Sam said to me. "The last thing we need is for a TV camera to catch you."

Sam met up with me on my walk with Daisy the next morning. "Are you keeping an eye on me?" I asked.

"Safety in numbers," he said. We walked for several minutes in companionable silence. "Are you bored here?"

Ribbons of morning fog hung on the mountains around us. The fields were damp and the air was fresh with the scent of dew.

"No, it's so very beautiful here."

"Do you really want to leave?"

"It's not as if I can stay here indefinitely, can I?"

Sam was quiet again for a long time. "You seem to get along with all of us and... I just thought, I thought, since we're both alone and in this condition..." He paused before continuing. "We don't have to be alone. I know I've been preoccupied by CACA and distracted by Cornelia. I find you very attractive and I hope you find me attractive, too. More important, I think you are a good person. I have an excellent income and I'm a steady worker. I am obliged to tell you that my chances of fathering a child are extremely low. I don't know how you feel about having children..." A blush rose in his cheeks.

"Sam, are you proffering an offer?"

He nodded his head. "Milagro, I just ask you to consider that we might have a good chance of being happy together."

It wasn't the most romantic speech I'd ever heard. Nevertheless, it came from a serious, responsible man, a man I could trust who also looked fabulous. "Thank you, Sam. I would like to take your offer under consideration."

He smiled with relief. "Please take your time deliberating. I believe that if we proceed with caution we can avoid some of the hazards common to many relationships."

"Sam, can we keep this to ourselves for now? I don't want to take away anything from Winnie and Oswald's celebration."

I went to bed that night and mulled over everything that had happened. The choice was obvious when I was presented with beach-read relationships, hedonistic Ian Ducharme, and admirable Sam. I had found the happy middle ground. I was becoming the sincere and serious woman I longed to be. I don't know what I dreamed, but I awoke confused and in a cold sweat.

Chapter Twenty-nine

the icing on the sin cake

The good news was that there had been no animals killed that night. The bad news was that more reporters had come to our little village and I was confined to the ranch.

To amuse myself, I dressed up for dinner. I slipped on the shocking pink dress and beige sandals with shells that I had found at Ye Olde Rose and Grape Consignment Charitee Shoppe. The silky fabric of the dress slithered over my flesh, clinging like a mountaineer to a precipice. Scrunching my hair with gel made it wave a little. I paid special care to smudging the liner and blending shadow to make my eyes sexy.

I scrutinized myself in the mirror, turning this way and that. Odd. I seemed to have acquired a tan. I had been so preoccupied in looking out for intruders on my walks that I had forgotten to wear sunscreen. Self-condemnation wasn't easy when my tan was so yummy.

It was time to give Daisy her antibiotic, but I couldn't find her anywhere in the house. I went to the back door and called to her, imagining the worst. I dashed to the barn and Ernie gave me a serious once-over and said, "Dios mio, but you're looking muy juicy, mamacita," before he told me that he'd seen her near the cottage.

I ran across the field, shouting, "Daisy, Daisy!" but I couldn't see her shaggy-dogginess anywhere. When no one answered my knock at the cottage, I opened the door, saying, "Hello, Winnie?"

Oswald came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. His stomach was flat and his chest had just the right amount of hair running between his well defined pectorals. His gray eyes were shining and his skin was flawless.

I stared stupidly before pulling myself together. I looked this way and that, anywhere but at Oswald. "Is Winnie back?"

"Not yet. She's on her way, though."

"Oh, I can't find Daisy anywhere." I tried to keep my voice light, but it cracked and my eyes began to well.

He clapped his hands and I experienced a moment of panic that the movement would shake the towel off his body, which was absurd since it was snugly wound around his slim hips. "Daisy, come!" he ordered. I heard the patter of her nails on the hardwood floor and she skittered out of the bedroom.

"Bad girl, bad girl," I said, bending over to ruffle her fur, relieved to see her whole and safe.

"That's a topic you should know something about."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What the hell do you think you were doing with Ian Ducharme?" he said sharply.

"Ian's single and at least he really wanted to have a relationship with me. Not that it's any of your damn business whom I date."