Demon Night

There’s no need to torture yourself before it’s time to transform her.”
    Henderson’s cold hand clamped around her wrist. She kicked and pulled when he opened his own thumb against his fang, but couldn’t stop him from spreading his blood across the cut Jake had made on her finger.
    She frantically wiped it off on her pants the second he let her go.
    Dylan looked over his shoulder, flashed an affable smile. Then the blood disappeared from her clothes, Jake’s blood from her hands and face. “That won’t do anything to you, Charlotte, except heal it. Take a look.”
    Charlie set her jaw, stared straight through the front window.
    “Vampire blood can heal just about any injury. It can’t cure naturally occurring diseases or cancers, but it can give anyone suffering them some strength, take away some of the pain…so you can see why Jane might have such a vested interest in re-creating it, modifying it for medical use.” A hard note slipped under Dylan’s friendly tone. “Of course, maybe you can’t see why, considering that while she was caring for your father as he wasted away, you were knitting him a scarf from prison. Didn’t even get to the funeral, did you? But I bet that bright red yarn looked great in the casket.”
    Bastard. Her lungs drew in tight on themselves, her throat closed.
    “And Jane worries about you, Charlotte. A lot. She’s told me several times how she wondered if you’d pull your life together. Do you know how much pain you’ve caused your sister?”
    She met Dylan’s eyes in the mirror. She’d already beaten herself up for all of this; she wouldn’t let him do it again. “Yes.”
    His brows shot up. “Well, that’s good. And you should know how happy she is with what you’ve done in the last two years, though—” Dylan’s lips pursed, and he bobbed his head as if he was agreeing with himself. “No, I simply can’t see why she’s so pleased. And I think that if she’s going to worry, it should be about something worthwhile, not whether you’ll get your little degree and go on to live a little life.”
    Charlie swallowed the hurt and betrayal ripping at her chest. Of course Jane had spoken about her to Dylan. The betrayal here wasn’t Jane’s, but the demon’s.
    “Don’t you want to be a part of something great? You and Jane, working together? Initially, Jane may not agree with the way I’ve gone about it—but once she sees the big picture, I think she’ll come around, too.” Dylan’s voice softened, and a whimsical smile curved his lips. “She’s a visionary. She’s what humans should be: intelligent, modest, kind…and dedicated to improving the world. She’s perfect.”
    “Jane, perfect?” Charlie echoed wryly, trying not to expose her disgust. He really did love her sister—but it was so corrupted, ugly. “I don’t think so. Live with her a few more years, Dylan.”
    “I intend to.”
    He slowed for a red light and Charlie jumped for the door again, but Henderson yanked her back against his side. They were nearing the bridge that would take them back to Seattle. Once they were in the city, it would be more difficult for Ethan to track them down.
    Did Ethan even know that she was gone? He had those psychic abilities, and had said she projected…Could he feel her terror now?
    And he’d also told her he could get images if she thought them hard enough and wanted him to see them.
    Charlie closed her eyes, pictured the bridge, and focused on him seeing it with everything in her.
    “That’s a good idea, Charlotte. It’ll bring him right to us. I’ll add my own to it.”
    Henderson stiffened beside her, and Dylan laughed softly.
    “Mr. Henderson is a vampire, so he can’t see what I’m sending, but he gets the feel of it. And I’m afraid it’s making his bloodlust worse. Isn’t that true, Mr. Henderson?”
    “Yes.” The response was strained.
    Charlie turned her head, really looked at Henderson for the first time. A little pale, yes—but otherwise normal in just about every way. Khaki pants, an unbuttoned cotton shirt over a Henley, deck shoes. His light brown hair and soft green eyes might have been pretty if she’d seen them across the bar.
    He glanced away from her, his mouth set in a thin line.
    She hoped she wasn’t mistaken that she read guilt in that avoidance. Maybe she’d been appealing to the wrong person; Dylan couldn’t keep her here. Only this vampire did.
    “Please don’t do this, Henderson.”
    Dylan sighed.