Carpathian 02 - Dark Desire

she was frightened. He could taste her fear. Feel her heart pounding so that his own matched the terrible rhythm. Still, her mind remained calm in the center of the storm, receiving quick, brilliant flashes of data she processed so quickly that he nearly missed them. Two strangers were hunting her. Taunting her. He also saw an image of himself, his thick hair hanging in strands around his ravaged face, his body savaged by brutal hands. He clearly saw the stake driven deep within his tissue and sinews. It flashed for a moment in her mind, there was the impression of grief, and then he lost contact.
    Shea would never forget their faces, their eyes, and the smell of their sweat. One of them, the taller of the two, couldn't take his eyes from her. "Who are you?" She stared at them, wide-eyed, innocent, totally harmless. Shea knew she looked young and helpless, too small to give them trouble.
    "Jeff Smith," the tall one said gruffly. His eyes devoured her. "This is my partner, Don Wallace.
    We need you to come with us and answer a few questions."
    "Am I wanted for something? I'm a doctor, gentlemen. I can't just pick up and go, I'm due in Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    surgery in an hour. Perhaps you could arrange to ask your questions when my shift is over."
    Wallace grinned at her. He thought he looked charming. Shea thought he looked like a shark.
    "We can't do that, Doc. It isn't only our questions, there's an entire committee looking to talk with you." He laughed softly, a film of perspiration on his forehead. He enjoyed inflicting pain, and Shea was altogether too cool, too haughty.
    Shea made certain her desk was solidly between her and the men. Taking great care to move slowly and appear unconcerned, she glanced down at her computer, typed in the command to destroy her data, and hit the enter key. Then she picked up her mother's diary, and slipped it into her purse. She accomplished everything easily, naturally. "Are you certain you have the right person?"
    "Shea O'Halloran, your mother was Margaret 'Maggie' O'Halloran from Ireland?" Jeff Smith recited. "You were born in Romania, your father is unknown?" There was a taunting note in his voice.
    She turned the full power of her emerald eyes on the man, watched coolly as he squirmed uneasily, as he became consumed with desire for her. Smith was far more susceptible than his partner was. "Is that supposed to upset me, Mr. Smith? I am who I am. My father has nothing to do with it."
    "No? " Wallace stepped closer to the desk. "Don't you need blood? Crave it? Don't you drink it?" His eyes glowed with hatred.
    Shea burst out laughing. Her laughter was soft, sexy, a melody to listen to forever. "Drink blood?
    Is this some kind of joke? I don't have time for this nonsense."
    Smith licked his lips. "You don't drink blood?" His voice held a hopeful note.
    Wallace looked at him sharply. "Don't look into her eyes," he snarled. "You should know that by now."
    Shea's eyebrows shot up. She laughed again softly, inviting Smith to join her. "I occasionally require a transfusion. It isn't uncommon. Haven't you ever heard of hemophilia? Gentlemen, you are wasting my time." Her voice dropped even lower, a soft seduction of musical notes. "You really should leave."
    Smith scratched his head. "Maybe we've got the wrong woman. Look at her. She's a doctor. She's nothing like the others. They're tall and strong and have dark hair. She's delicate, petite, a redhead. And she goes out in the sunlight."
    "Shut up," Wallace snapped. "She's one of them. We should have gagged her. She's turning you with her voice." His eyes slid over her, making her flesh crawl. "She'll talk." He grinned evilly.
    "Now I've scared you. It's about time. You'll cooperate, O'Halloran, the hard way or the easy way.
    Actually, I prefer the hard way."
    "I'll bet you do. Just what do you want from me? "
    "Proof that you're a vampire." Wallace hissed.

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    "You've got to be kidding. Vampires don't exist. There's no such thing," she goaded, needing information and willing to acquire it from any source, even if it meant prompting men as sick as these two.
    "No? I've met several." Wallace grinned his evil grin again. "Perhaps a friend or two of yours."
    He threw several photographs onto the desk, his eyes daring her to look at them. His excitement was palpable.
    Keeping her face blank, Shea picked up