Vacation with a Vampire & Other Immortals (5 page)

A
nna wasn’t afraid of him. That might seem very odd to anyone else, she supposed. Maybe it ought to seem odd to her. Or foolish, even. Here she was, alone, on an apparently deserted tropical island, with the strangest man she had ever met. What did he mean, he’d stocked the house with fruit and water and fresh fish
for her?
What did
he
eat?

He might be strange, but he was also beautiful. She had rarely chosen that word to describe a man, but she could think of no more suitable one. The liquid brown of his eyes and those impossibly thick lashes. The slenderness of his face and the angular jawline. Skin so smooth it seemed unreal.

All alone, yes, but perhaps not lonely. A genius, of sorts. He must be, to have built what he had here. The fairy-tale house, the natural sources of power, the entire layout, that was so very Zen-like with its beautiful landscaping. He’d created a paradise for himself. And no one else.

He was a solitary, ingenious artist who lived his life by night. And whose voice and face were familiar to her. Even his name, Diego, was exactly what she had known it would be. In fact, the only thing about him that seemed strange to her was that he was human and not the guardian angel she’d been expecting.

Maybe she really
was
dead. Maybe this was heaven.

She looked down at her legs, stretched out in front of her as she relaxed in the low tree-trunk chair, that was surprisingly comfortable. The firelight gave her a better look at herself than she’d had before, and what she saw made her suck in a sharp breath that caused a stabbing pain in her sore chest.

Her legs were mottled in vivid bruises that spanned the color spectrum from brilliant fuchsia to deep gray. They looked like contour maps of mountain ranges. There were scrapes, too, but mostly deep bruises. No wonder it hurt to walk. Lifting the waistband of the boxer shorts, she saw that the bruising included her hips and, as she twisted in her seat, her buttocks, as well. She looked as if she’d been beaten with a club.

She held out her arms and saw that they, too, were badly bruised, then shuddered at the thought of what her face must look like. She needed to go find a mirror. He’d said there was a bathroom upstairs, hadn’t he?

She would definitely pay it a visit before too much longer. But first, she was dying to get a look around the island, and his warnings about her being too weak to walk to the beach had fallen on deaf ears. She’d been alone at sea for eight weeks now. She thought she could handle a walk, even with bruises for company.

So she set out, and it did hurt. Every step brought pain, and she supposed that was all the proof she needed that she wasn’t dead and this wasn’t the afterlife. Yet it did not erase from her mind the knowledge that there was something otherworldly going on here. Something about him, or this island.

Or both.

It really did hurt to walk. Maybe he’d been right, she thought, once she’d traipsed a few dozen yards into the palms. She did seem to be limping a bit more with every step. Still, she pressed on, walking very slowly along a well-worn footpath that twisted and writhed through the forest. And even as she traversed the trail, night began to give birth to the day. The sky paled slightly, and in the space of a heartbeat the hush around her was filled with bird calls as the forest came to raucous life.

She smiled at their songs, their cries, their screeches, and wished she could identify them by their voices. Maybe if she were here long enough she could make a study of them.

But, of course, she wouldn’t be here long at all. Diego had made that much perfectly clear, hadn’t he?

Such a beautiful place to live, she thought. And then another thought followed on its heels. Such a beautiful place to die.

She knew she should have felt at peace with that thought. Just as she had come to a peaceful acceptance of her own demise while she’d been at sea. Gradually she’d understood that this was just part of the journey. She’d accepted her own end, had started looking forward to seeing what was on the other side.

Of course, that had been when she’d still thought he would be waiting for her there. Her Spanish angel, Diego.

Now she no longer felt peaceful about it at all. In fact, thinking about her life ending filled her with an uncomfortable sense of foreboding. Of unease. Of near panic. What the hell had happened to her serenity?

She emerged from the tree line onto an expanse of white sand that sloped ever so gently to the sea. Waves rolled in, broke and thinned until they were little more than froth on the sand, and then the sea sucked them back again. Over and over. A hypnotic, healing energy wafted over her, as if generated by the movements of those waves.

Live in the moment, she reminded herself. Make the very most of every single moment. Just like you’ve been doing for the past two months. Just be in the moment, and don’t think too much about the future.

Yes. That felt marginally better.

She sank down onto the sand, drawing her knees to her chest and gazing outward toward the horizon. And she saw the blazing hint of fire that touched the sky at the very end of the sea—for just an instant, until it became a glowing curve. Then the edge of the giant dinner-plate sun, rising as if from the depths of the ocean itself.

It was beautiful here, she thought, smiling. She really didn’t think she was going to want to leave.

Diego had slept with his bedroom door locked, something he hadn’t felt the need to do since he’d hosted the only other houseguest ever to visit Serenity Island. He didn’t need another woman poking around, uncovering his secrets. Perhaps exposing them this time, and his haven with them. There was too much at stake. And he knew, from cruel experience, that once she had what she wanted her apparent enchantment with his home and his island—not to mention with him—would evaporate. Because it wasn’t real. He gathered up fresh clothing and took it with him into the bathroom, where he indulged in his nightly ritual of a piping hot shower. It felt delicious against his supersensitive skin. Vampires felt
everything
more powerfully than humans did. Pleasure. Pain, too.

If anything, he thought as he stood beneath the steaming spray, Anna was even more beautiful than Cassandra had been. Her essence, her aura, was like a soft golden glow. The impression she gave was of a pure spirit, good to her core. But tender, too. Vulnerable. Easily frightened. Of course, that could just be what she wanted him to believe. She might be very good at disguising her true motives. Blocking her thoughts. It wasn’t impossible. Some mortals could do it. Cassandra could.

Maybe Anna was…

She wasn’t in the house.

He realized it as he basked in the shower’s pulsing flow. There was no sense of his wounded houseguest whatsoever.

He cranked off the shower knobs, stopping the flow of the solar-heated water, and stood there dripping, cocking his head to one side, feeling for her. Then he frowned. Her essence was there, but distant. Near the beach, he thought.

Stepping out of the shower stall, he toweled off, dressed in khaki trousers and a short-sleeved yellow shirt, then headed down the stairs and outside. His hair was still wet, and he was barefoot. But then, he was nearly always barefoot. He walked, gathering his hair in a band behind his head. The shirt still hung unbuttoned, but it was a warm night, and he loved the air on his skin. Often he didn’t wear any clothes at all. Why bother? He was entirely alone here, aside from the animals he so loved.

As he emerged onto the beach, he saw her curled on one side, sleeping in the sand. Close beside her Charlie, a familiar iguana, stood in the stand, poised and motionlessly staring at her face. As if waiting for her to wake up.

Certain she’d been there for a while, Diego knelt beside her, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Anna. Wake up, now.”

She smiled in her sleep, twisting a little, rubbing her cheek over her shoulder. “Hmm?”

“Wake up now,” he repeated, trying not to notice how irresistibly attracted he was to her in this state. Or any state, he corrected. “Come on.”

Her beautiful eyes opened, like jewels shining on him with a power that surprised him. And then, as she noticed the animal so near her face, her smile become full blown. “Well, hello there, little guy.” She met the reptile’s steady gaze, and her own was nonthreatening. Almost beaming with love. Lifting a hand, she tentatively stroked one crooked finger over Charlie’s neck.

The iguana leaned into her touch the way an affectionate cat might do. So much for loyalty, Diego thought.

“I think he likes you,” he said, and then he sighed. “Anna, meet Charlie. He’s an Acklins iguana, and he’s quite upset that he’s not looking his best right now. Those browns and greens, though quite lovely, brighten up to oranges and yellows during the hottest parts of the day, or so I’ve read.”

The lizard gave a slow, contented blink, then turning, skittered away into the undergrowth, his very gait a comedy of its own.

Anna laughed. “Do you name all the animals who live here?”

“Only the ones I get to know well,” he said.

She was still smiling. It was hard to believe she might be up to no good, conniving or plotting to use him. Hard to believe there was anything other than sweetness in her, when she smiled at him like that.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep.” She pushed her hands through her auburn curls, that were more beautiful tousled than neat, he thought.

“How long have you been out here?”

She blinked, her gaze sliding from his to the sea, the horizon, the night sky. “All day,” she said, sounding only slightly surprised. “I watched the sunrise.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t burn to a crisp,” he told her. Then he tipped his head up, noticing the thick fronds of the palm above her. “This tree must like you as much as Charlie did. She protected you.”

“She?” Her eyes followed his, and she examined the graceful tree, the way its trunk bent over and its fronds draped low, giving her shade for almost the entire day. “It does look rather feminine at that.”

“You must be starving.”

“I am.” She extended a hand. “Help me up?”

Diego clasped her hand and pulled her onto her feet with him; then, turning, he began walking her back along the footpath toward the house. “Aside from hunger, how do you feel?”

She shot him a quick look. “I’m very sore. Way more than I realized. I hurt all over.” She slowed her pace, added a pronounced limp. “I thought I was strong enough to walk down to the beach and back, but…you were right. I think my body took a far worse beating out there on the rocks than I knew.”

He sensed that she was being less than perfectly honest and delved into her mind, just a little. He felt her pain, the stiffness, the aches. They were bad, yes. But she was pouring it on a bit more than she would normally do, and he heard, clearly, her rationale.
Don’t act like you’re doing too well, dummy, or he’ll be hauling you back to the mainland before the night is out. Besides, you’re not doing all that well.

Just as he’d suspected. She was playing it up so she could stay here longer. And that certainly lent credence to his suspicion that she had come out here knowing already what he was and what he could do for her. She had come out here to trick him into sharing the Dark Gift with her.

When all she had to do was ask.

Or maybe…maybe he was wrong. Hell, how could he know for sure?

“Did you enjoy the sunrise, at least?” he asked, to keep her talking. Because the more he conversed with her, the more of herself she revealed. Soon he would see all her secrets.

She stopped walking to beam up at him. “It was most beautiful one I’ve ever seen, Diego.” She met his eyes as she said it, then looked beyond him, shaking her head. “This entire place—it’s like your own personal Eden.”

“That’s exactly how I think of it.”

She smiled. “I’m very grateful to you for putting up with my presence for a little while. It’s awfully generous of you to share this special place with a stranger. Although…” She stopped there, gnawing her lower lip in a way that made him want to taste it.

“Although?” he prompted.

Tipping her head up, she stared into his eyes. “You don’t feel like a stranger to me at all.”

Like a magnet, she pulled him nearer. Not physically, but with those eyes. They tugged, and he felt his head begin to lower, his eyelids begin to fall. But he caught himself, blinking free of the spell she’d cast and straightening up again.

She lowered her head quickly, almost as if embarrassed. “I don’t suppose that makes any sense to you, does it?”

“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to me. And it’s not as if this is the first time you’ve mentioned it. It’s your feeling, and you have a right to it.” He set off toward the house again, step by step, though she seemed to want to take it very slowly.

“It’s just that…well, it goes back to the worst day of my life, or what I thought at the time was the worst. About two months ago.” She looked over at him as they walked.

He wasn’t touching her anymore, but it was all he could do not to. He wanted to slide an arm around her waist, to hold her against him. He wanted to help her, because he could feel the discomfort that walking brought, but also the pleasure she was taking in the stroll.

Touching her right then, he decided, would be a mistake. He met her eyes briefly, to let her know he was listening, even though he thought he knew what she was about to say.

“Actually, it goes back a lot further than that. I’d been seeing a face, hearing a voice, in my dreams since I was a teenager. I thought I was seeing my soul mate then. But later I decided he was someone else entirely.”

“He?”

“You.”

He lifted his brows, studying her.

“But back to that night, two months ago. I’d been feeling…tired. Lethargic. Sleeping more and more, and sometimes during the day, too.” She smiled. “Like you.”

He smiled back but didn’t interrupt.

“It seemed to keep getting worse, so I finally saw a doctor. And she told me…” She paused, as if needing to gather her strength to go on. “She told me I was dying.”