The Deadwalk (27 page)

“That's better,” he said, turning and startling her by casting a reflection
in the mirror.

“Surprised I have a reflection?”

“Now that you mention it, I'm surprised I can see myself.”

“Well,” he said, gesturing toward the mirror. “There you are. And you look
beautiful.”

She looked again at the creature in the mirror, seeing familiar features that
now glowed with a beauty that was somehow cruel in its intensity. Her skin was
the color of palest alabaster, her lips the color of deep red wine. She drew
back her lips, revealing two sharply chiseled eye teeth. They were only
fractionally longer than her original teeth, barely noticeable, yet deadly
sharp. Violet eyes stared calmly back at her. It was an illusion. She certainly
didn't feel calm inside.

Tentatively, she touched her face. The sight of her long, white claws made
her freeze mid-gesture. They were easily as thick as a dime. She suspected that
even filed down, they would still be deadly. She ran a tentative claw over the
tender skin on the back of her hand and watched in horror as it left a streak
that soon turned an angry red. Such talons were fashioned for dismemberment,
Melinda thought with a shudder. They'd caught on her clothing as she dressed and
snagged in the cloud of thick sable hair that before had been straight and fine.

“But I shouldn't have a reflection,” she protested. “I mean, in all the books
I've read--”

“You shouldn't believe the superstitious nonsense you read in books.”

She turned and really looked at him for the first time. He seemed so
ordinary, standing there in his black jeans and ebony shirt. It was easy to
think of him that way, until you looked into that face that seemed carved from
whitest ivory, and you knew that you were privy to a beauty too flawless to be
entirely human. That striking face was framed by unruly black curls that spilled
onto his forehead and over the collar of his shirt. He had the kind of innocent
wide-eyed stare that beseeched your sympathy on one hand and looked right into
your soul on the other. Melinda didn't want to look into those raven eyes that
compelled her to do things against her better judgment. But, when he smiled, as
he did now, he was blindingly handsome.

“Come to my parlor,” he offered. “I'll explain it all to you.”