"All right, all right. I suppose it's possible. But what if she finds out you're a vampire?"

Shrugging, Ronan said, "She already knows something is different about me with the mind reading, the ability to teleport, and my eyes. She'd have to be totally out of it not to notice." They sank into silence for a moment before Ronan said, "Did I ever thank you for letting me and Sorley stay here?"

"Yes, you did."

Ronan managed a sardonic smile. "You know I'd pick a nice crypt somewhere if I could find an empty one not tainted by the ancient one's stench."

Lachlan grinned and crossed his arms. "No problem, but it's Erin who deserves the thanks."

Ronan nodded and put the blood into the microwave. He pushed a button and set it to defrost. "Any clue where Sorley might be?"

"Nope. Haven't seen him."

They waited in silence until the microwave pinged and Ronan took the blood out. After he retrieved a plastic tumbler from a kitchen cabinet, he poured the liquid into the tumbler and took a sip. Warmed enough to go down smooth, like the finest whiskey he could imagine.

Lachlan flipped on the light switch. He leaned against the kitchen counter as Ronan drank the blood. Lachlan's expression said it all; he didn't like seeing his friend consume the sanguine liquid.

Ronan put the cup down on the counter. "I suppose I should find some nice snow bank to store my blood supply."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if the police ever decide to search this house for some hare-brained reason, do you think they'll understand packets of blood in your freezer?"

"No. They won't understand. But we can take that chance."

Ronan finished the blood, rinsed the tumbler, then put it in the dishwasher. "I'll move it as soon as I can find another place to sleep." He sounded mournful, almost lonely. He stopped, astonished at the emotions. "Damn, I sound like a feckin' geek."

Lachlan laughed softly. He cocked his head a little to the side, questions written all over his expression. "Hurry up and get with it, vampire. Clarissa will be here soon."

The ancient one put on his cloak just before nightfall, the garment shielding his body against the draining effects of the remaining sunlight. With one last look at his temporary home, he considered if it would be worth coming back to the crypt before dawn. Perhaps.

Unless he found somewhere equally safe and intriguing. He didn't consider the tunnels under theGunn Inn an area to sleep in any longer. He could visit with the darkness there, but not to stay.

Dusk edged through the woods as he emerged from the crypt. Winter air rushed over his face, but he barely noticed. His cloak swirled in the breeze, the flapping sound loud to his sensitive ears. Snow, freezing again after a day of melting, crunched under his feet. He breathed in earth saturated by centuries of evil and relished the power. He would need more time to regain everything taken from him by Ronan Kieran and his meddling mortal friends. He moved away from the crypt, the long-forgotten sepulcher of some pitiful soul.

Time had ravaged the tomb, but time would not destroy him. Invincibility guaranteed, he strode toward his goal with confidence. If anyone saw him they'd think him dressed in costume for a party.

Of course, if anyone came within visual distance, he would kill them.

He prowled, with advancing strength, along the woods toward the tunnels under theGunn Inn. He wondered if MickyGunn and Jared Thornton still resided in the cavernous old building and if the stupid mortals continued to believe they could reclaim the property.

Hadn't they seen enough of his glory? Enough of what he could do?

He sensed Pine Forest's unease.

The townspeople feared Halloween.

He smiled, pleased. He fed off the thought, allowed it to grow the way mortals allowed their fears to run them.

Before Halloween, Pine Forest would feel his ultimate wrath, and this time they couldn't stop him. Damnation grew in the tunnels beneath the graveyard and the inn. It spread like the locust, the fly after death, the maggots over a dead body left out in the elements too long.

So much percolated beneath the townspeople's feet, and little did they know. Soon the volcanic eruption of fear and hate would cause them to destroy themselves from within.

Their petty prejudices, their ridiculous beliefs would bring them false certainty. Like all mortals their foibles would lead them toward disaster rather than strength, to pestilence rather than joy.

He smiled as he walked, then put his hands up to the sky as clouds obscured the last of the sun. He flipped back the cape hood and allowed the night to bathe him.

"Ahhhhh." Every fiber in his body seemed to expand, to cherish and absorb the darkness within and without.

At the same time anger and determination surged inside him. Two times the mortals had foiled him, had taken what belonged to him. And Sweet Dasoria, his reincarnated lover, refused to recognize him. Where once his undead soul ached that Erin refused to acknowledge her past life as his lover, now he felt his feelings turning toward hate and death. Malevolence wended through his thoughts and memories until he could no longer recall how much he'd once loved Dasoria. He would treat her as he treated all other mortals. Erin would find her death in Pine Forest before Halloween came.

No more fighting to see her, to bring her over to the undead once again. No more desire to share his love with her. Next time she would feel his lacerating teeth against her throat for one reason only.

There would be no mercy.

Chapter Six

As she drove toward ErinGreenway's home, Clarissa's headache returned. This time she knew the pain originated from tight muscles in her back and neck.

Jim had insisted she see a doctor, so she'd driven to the emergency room with him following behind. The doctor who examined her declared her sound of body. When Jim asked her if she'd like to have dinner with her that evening, she explained she had other plans and left it at that. He'd looked disappointed, but she had no intention of jilting Erin and Lachlan for a dinner with Jim. While a little surprised at the extent of Jim's concern for her, she didn't quite trust his motivations. Their past together kept her feelings distant.

She rubbed the back of her neck, then turned down a street leading to Erin's home. She checked her watch. In less then five minutes she'd be there, and the tension seemed to build second by second.

As she found Erin's address and turned into the driveway of the Victorian home, she noticed two other cars parked along the street. She imagined Micky and Jared would be here. Maybe even their mysterious Irish friend, Ronan. If he was, she planned on cornering him at some point to find out how he'd gotten her out of that hole under the crypt without her remembering a thing, and why he'd disappeared without a word.

Nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach. From everything she'd heard about the events occurring in Pine Forest this month, Erin and Lachlan would have no reason to doubt her story. Instead nagging worry plagued her.

After she turned off the lights and switched off the car, she unlocked and opened the driver's door.

A figure loomed up next to her. She gasped as her heart leapt.

Ronan stood there, his gaze watchful.

"Do you make a habit of popping up unexpectedly?" she asked.

"Yes. Dinner will be ready soon. Come."

His old-fashioned courtesy, mixed with his brusqueness took her off guard again.

"You're about the most intriguing man I've ever run into, you know that?" she asked without thinking about how it would sound. "And sometimes the most challenging."

"Thank you."

She closed and locked the car. "Were you skulking in the bushes when I drove up? I didn't see you."

Ronan slipped his arm around her shoulders. "In a matter of speaking, yes. I should have escorted you from your hotel this evening."

"It wasn't necessary. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself."