In walked the gargoyle.

He was gasping as if he’d been racing against time itself. The sleek muscles of his chest were glistening, and his long hair hung dripping over his shoulders. At the back of her mind, past the fear and desperation that jerked every nerve ending she possessed, Alexandra realized that he had probably flown through a thunderstorm.

His glare went straight to her, then to the scattered items of the chest on the floor. “How did you get in here?” he growled.

She’d been right! Marius was harboring the creature. Slowly she stood, the sound of her heart drumming in her ears.

He extended a hand. “I will not harm you. Please, you must come with me.”

Alexandra’s attention drifted to the blood-stained bandage on his arm. And the leather tie that held it in place.

“Marius?” she whispered.

Dear Reader,

Heiress to a Curse is the first novel in the HEARTS of STONE series. My inspiration for this book came from two directions. One, my love for romance and for dark and dangerous alpha males. *Winks*. And two, my desire to be original. It seems everyone is trying to write the next great vampire novel. Although I have nothing against vampires, I just needed to think outside of the box.

I’ve found there are so many other creatures that one can make, shall we say, alluring. I chose gargoyles because I’ve always been fascinated by the ancient stone statues that sit quietly, monitoring our mundane routines from their vantage points. From this idea I was able to fashion the Drakon clan.

While writing this story I took every opportunity to visit places that would keep me in the right frame of mind. I wanted the scenes and characters to leap from the pages and tamper with the senses and emotions of readers. One of my most memorable experiences was visiting a haunted site in Michigan called the Paulding Light. There’s nothing like creeping through a dark and misty forest at 1 am on a cold September morning to get my creative juices flowing. I didn’t see any ghosts that night, but I did gain a wealth of inspiration.

Please enjoy Marius and Alexandra’s love story. I hope these characters bring you as much excitement as they did me.

Happy reading!

Zandria Munson

About the Author

ZANDRIA MUNSON was born and raised in the Bahamas on a beautiful island called New Providence. Her early education was enhanced with history and folklore lessons on pirates, mermaids, the Lost City of Atlantis and other fanciful topics. As a child she spent lazy summer days slipping in and out of her imagination. She started writing at thirteen.

Zandria attended the College of the Bahamas, where she obtained her degrees in nursing. Along with her passion for storytelling, she harbors a driving need to help others. She presently lives in Texas with her husband Christopher and kitties Munchkin and Chloe.

Heiress to a Curse

Zandria Munson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For my wonderful husband

and my pooh, Christopher.

Prologue

16th Century, Romania

Lord Victor Drakon stood at the foot of his wide, four-poster bed as he watched his wife in repose. Her tall and elegant frame was entwined with the many furs that covered the bed, while the lovely wealth of her hair lay splayed about her face. She was beautiful and equally as gentle hearted and he loved her dearly. From the moment he’d first spied her picking flowers on his land, he’d loved her. She held no title and she wasn’t of noble birth, but she was pure and her love was sincere.

He’d gone against propriety, against his family’s wishes, and severed his betrothal to Lady Vivian Dan cescu to claim this woman as his own. She was his heart, his life and his love.

Moving closer, he gazed upon her face, bathed in the flickering glow from the hearth. She sighed then, her soft breath fanning the stray tendrils that had fallen near her lips.

He leaned over her and gently drew away the black curls. “My sweet Amelia,” he breathed.

A sudden knock sounded at the door. It was his messenger, no doubt. He’d been waiting for news of Lady Vivian. After learning of his covert marriage to Amelia, the lady had been consumed by rage, hacking off her hair and publicly cursing the day of his birth.

He, however, didn’t hold himself accountable for her ill feelings, for he’d tried desperately to reason with her. They’d been forced into their betrothal as children—a union that was to join the wealth of two powerful houses. There was no love between them and thus, he’d offered her freedom. He’d proposed a sizable fare to appease her wounded pride, but she was a greedy and self-righteous woman; it was his lands she desired. And so, he’d been left with no choice but to summon the chancellor during the silence of the early morning to perform the ceremony that would join him and his beloved Amelia.

He quickly donned his cloak and opened the door. His manservant stood on the other side, panting and covered in soot. “The Lady Vivian, my lord, she is dead,” the man informed him.

“What do you mean, dead? Surely you jest!”

“No, my lord. She took her own life.”

The blood drained from Lord Drakon’s face and a sudden feeling of guilt overcame him. “How?” he asked.

“She burned herself alive, my lord. Even now fire consumes Elburich Castle.”

Lord Drakon’s nostrils flared as he inhaled a pained breath. Why anyone, most especially the gentle-bred Lady Vivian, would choose to end her life in such a horrific way was beyond him. “And her family?” His voice trembled.

The messenger’s head lowered. “They were all sleeping. Everyone perished in the flames.”

Lord Drakon spun away from the door and ran his fingers through the thick mane of his hair. Had the woman gone mad? To end her life was one thing, but to do so without the slightest consideration for her own family was another.

Was he to blame for her crime? Had his rejection driven her to insanity? No, he told himself. Her actions were the result of her own lust for greater wealth. No, the only one to be blamed was her.

A shrill cry resounded from the window of his bedchamber, shattering the solemn moment.

“Lord Drakon, I curse you!”

He exchanged confused looks with his messenger and they hurried toward the open shutters. Below, a woman stood bearing a torch. She was garbed in a heavy cloak that permitted only a shadowed view of her face.

“I curse your house and all who dwell within!” she continued.

“Who is she?” Lord Drakon asked.

“The witch Necesar. She was cousin to Lady Vivian.”

By this time, Amelia had awakened, and she slipped from the bed, draping the heavy coverlet around her. “Victor, what is it?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Lady Vivian’s cousin,” he replied.

Again the voice of the woman below rang out. “You rejected my cousin to take a common woman to your bed! Her heart was slain by your insult and now she is dead, taking her beloved household with her!”

“It was not her heart that was slain, but her pride!” Lord Drakon called in return.

“You are one to speak of pride when you have disgraced yourself and sullied your family’s name. Tell me, when you lay with your peasant bride, do you see Vivian’s face? Do you feel her pain?”

“Go home, woman!” he barked. “The hour is late and my patience runs low.”

“I do not fear you,” she snarled. “My beloved cousin bestowed a task upon me and I shall not fail her. You and your house shall suffer as she has. Your souls shall be stripped from your flesh and even the sun will betray you. Curse upon you, Lord Drakon, and curse upon your kin.”

“Silence!” he shouted, consumed by rage now. “Leave this place, you wretched witch.”

She stripped the hood of her cloak from her head, revealing a mass of silver hair. “My death will not end your torment. You and your generations to follow shall bear the same fate. Darkness will be your prison and you shall pray for death, but it will flee from you.”

Lord Drakon turned to the man at his side. “Go below and cease this heresy. Give her a horse and send her on her way.”

The messenger nodded and left to do his bidding. Lord Drakon maintained his post at the window as the woman continued her ranting. Deep within him, fear kindled, for he’d heard of the power of the witch Necesar. Her spoken word was potent, like the venom of a serpent.

Yet could one possess such power that she could curse an innocent man and his entire house? Would God allow such a thing?

Amelia appeared at his side, her beautiful features ashen. “Why does she speak so?”

He draped an arm about her, drawing her to him. “Lady Vivian has taken her life. The Elburich Castle has burned to the ground and everyone inside has perished.”

“Oh, dear God,” she gasped.

Beneath them, the sound of hooves emerged as three armed men on horseback, one with a mare in tow, moved to circle the witch.

Necesar continued as if they’d never come upon her. “For an eternity you and your children will be feared by all men and you will be hunted like beasts! The world will change, and as the vines come creeping to shroud the walls of your castle and the trees grow so dense that you cannot see beyond them, you will remember this night and what was lost in it.”

One of the men advanced upon her. “Be silent, sorceress!”

She continued. “Five were those who perished, and in five winters darkness will be brought upon you. From thence, for five centuries will I be your constant torment. And when this time is spent, the one whose love you rejected will claim the body of my descendant and gain her vengeance.”

With an angry growl, the horseman dismounted and drew his sword. “Be silent!”

She fixed the horseman with an unblinking stare. “Your wife is only two moons from giving birth,” she stated.

Slightly taken aback, the horseman halted his advance.

“You will have a son. He will be born beneath the sign of Aquarius. He will be in your image, but his eyes will be taken from him. Born into darkness, he will never see your face.”

“I am warning you, witch,” the horseman growled.

“Your young wife, in her grief, will fall into madness.”

“Silence!”

“For an eternity you shall dwell in this castle….”

Her words were cut short as he thrust his blade into her abdomen just as Lord Drakon’s protest echoed over the courtyard.

“No!” he shouted. But it was too late. The blade passed through her slender frame.

Necesar gasped, her eyes turning to the balcony. “Remember this night well, Lord Drakon, for it marks the beginning of your eternal torment.” With that she collapsed to her knees.

Lord Drakon turned from the window and raced down to the courtyard. He pushed aside the horseman who remained above Necesar, staring in disbelief at what he’d just done.

It seemed that time slowed as Necesar’s gaze roamed the faces of each individual present. She fell onto the dirt, her breathing slow and labored.

Lord Drakon moved to her side, stripping his cloak from his shoulders and draping it over her. He eased her head from the cold ground. The last thing he’d wanted was to see her slain, witch or no witch. The night had already claimed too many souls. He hung his head. To think that something as pure and simple as love could brew such a tragedy saddened his heart.

A flash of silver toppled from beneath the cloak and onto the hand he had positioned beneath her head. Necesar’s amulet, with the Dancescu crest. He reached out to retrieve it, for she should die with the symbol of her family near her heart. Necesar suddenly snatched his arm in a painful grip. She held on to him, her eyes deep and penetrating. He could only return her unnerving stare, for he found no words to appease the pain he saw there. Then, as silent as the drifting of ashes, her eyes closed and she breathed no more.

Chapter 1

New York City, Present Day

Alexandra Barret tilted up her head toward the warm water that streamed in steady waves down her naked body. She ran her hands along her wet hair, smoothing the long and heavy mass against her scalp. Over the sound of the shower, she could hear the television in the background. It was 8:00 p.m. The familiar voice of the news reporter beamed with excitement as he relayed the latest development on the Central Park sightings.

With her eyes closed, she reached down and shut off the water. Her pink terry robe, which had been draped over the towel rack, was quickly donned, then she wrapped a towel around her hair and padded out of the bathroom. A single lamp on her bedside table cast a dull glow about her New York apartment. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to towel dry her hair.

“The eyewitnesses state that the creature resembled a pterodactyl with a reported wingspan of about twelve feet,” the reporter continued. “This new sighting brings the count to five during the last month. Authorities have been hard-pressed to find any clues to aid in their investigation. I’m Anthony Newman with KB1 News.”

The corny tune of a car insurance commercial filled the room. She stood and walked toward a small table in one corner of her room. Notes and photographs lay scattered upon it. She often brought her work home and her latest assignment was a story about the people affected by a series of mysterious fires in the Hyde Park community. At twenty-eight she was a successful features writer at one of the biggest heralds in New York, the Daily Sun. But where others relied on their interrogation skills to complete a task, she depended on a more mysterious talent.

Ever since she was a child she’d been gifted with a rare sight. At first it had been limited to her dreams, in which images had appeared to her, often seemingly meaningless. A few days later, she’d realize they were glimpses of events that had occurred. She’d never been able to predict the future, but with the added ability of tapping into others’ emotions, she was often able to make accurate guesses, enabling her to complete assignments with uncanny insight. This ability propelled her to the top of her field.

Briefly, she skimmed through the photos then moved toward her dresser. She shook her hair out and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She picked up her comb, a fancy silver and ivory family heirloom, and ran it through her long dark curls.

My gypsy.

That’s what her father had always called her. Michael had been American and her mother, Marciela, Romanian. Her father had been a journalist. He’d met her mother thirty years ago while doing a story on Romanian folklore. It had been love at first sight. Within three weeks of their meeting, Marciela and Michael were wed. They’d remained in Romania for a year, but after Marciela’s father had died Marciela and Michael decided to emigrate to the U.S. As her parents’ only heir and the last of the Dancescu bloodline, Alexandra had inherited the entirety of her family’s estate.

Alexandra put down the comb. Nearly two years had passed since the accident. She missed them sorely. Tears welled in her eyes and she exhaled a shuddering breath. She wasn’t going to do this to herself again. Her parents wouldn’t want her moping over their untimely deaths. They would want her to move on and find happiness.

She switched off the television, stepped out of her robe, climbed into bed and turned off the lamp. The room was completely enveloped in darkness except for a narrow bar of light that spilled in through the window. She stared at it for a moment, feeling the hairs rise at her nape. She had the oddest sense that she was being watched.

She sat up slowly and glared through the glass door. A few seconds skipped by and she sighed. She really had to stop getting herself worked up.

She returned to her pillow and gazed at the ceiling as she tried to banish the thoughts she’d awakened. It wasn’t long before her lids grew heavy and her eyes closed as she slipped into a restless sleep.

Marius Drakon perched on the metal rail of the small balcony outside the seventh-story window, his attention fixed on the form of the woman on the bed. He’d been following her for several days, and if all his father had said was true, then she was the last of the Dancescu bloodline. As his family had come to learn, the witch Necesar had been reincarnated throughout the centuries within the bodies of her descendants. There had been occurrences when her abilities had manifested within them when confronted by members of his clan, but Necesar had never gone out of her way to make her presence known. With the death of this final descendant—which he’d come to deliver—his family would be set free of their five-hundred-year-old curse.

He shifted his weight, his massive wings spreading to beat against the night air. He’d gladly volunteered to leave his Romanian castle and venture into the West to seek out the one woman who stood between him and freedom. He yearned to taste her blood on his lips. It would be sweet, like fresh air drawn into drowning lungs. No more would the shadows be his home at night and stone his prison by day. No more would he be damned—a gargoyle cursed to walk the earth for eternity.

From his vantage point, his gaze raked her body. She lay on her back and slept soundly. The pale sheets clung to every curve, outlining her femininity.

For months he’d envisioned killing her, a faceless descendant of the witch Necesar who’d cursed his family so many years ago. He’d never expected her to be so lovely. He remembered the softness of her face. She was young, too. It was a pity she had to die.

Years ago his parents had gone to every sorcerer and witch on every continent and had learned the true nature of the curse and what was necessary to end it. Every descendant of the witch Necesar had to be dead, and the last must die on the equinox and within the restrictions of a sacred ritual. It was imperative that the curse end this year, on the equinox, for the end of the Spring Equinox would mark the end of Necesar’s five-hundred-year possession of her descendants’ bodies—and another spirit would be allowed to take her place. The spirit of Lady Vivian Dancescu.

That could never be allowed to happen. From his father, Marius had learned that the deviant and malicious Lady Vivian wouldn’t be so idle with Necesar’s power at her disposal. His family—and perhaps, the world—would be damned as she exacted her revenge on the Drakon family and acted upon her greed for wealth and power.

Tonight, beneath the new moon, the Spring Equinox had begun and so, tomorrow, for the first time in one year, Marius would walk the daylight as a man instead of hardening into stone. He had twenty-eight days to carry out the ritual. Guided by the lunar sequence, each step would have to be completed individually before the next new moon. Before the first quarter, she would have to extend to him an invitation of trust, welcoming him into her home. By the full moon, a lock of her hair would be required. Before the waning crescent, a drop of her blood must be drawn. And finally, on the eve of the new moon, he would be permitted to slay her.

The fire raged on. The cries within the castle had ceased long ago, yet she stood there in the saffron light of the holocaust that lit the early morning. Villagers raced about with pails of water drawn from the lake as they fought to extinguish the flames.

She’d lost someone this night. She wasn’t certain who, but there was a throbbing pang in her heart and she was consumed by grief.

Something slipped from her fingers and fell to the soft earth beneath her. She bent to retrieve it, then held it up to the light. It was a silver amulet much like the one she owned: the one that had been passed down through her family for generations.

Her fist clenched the object and anger seeped into her heart to replace the grief. Smoke burned her eyes and swept into her lungs with each ragged breath she inhaled. She would have her revenge! His name hovered before her in a haze of scattered thoughts. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to recall it.

Lord Victor D—

Alexandra’s eyes flew open. Sweat beaded her forehead and her breathing came in short gasps. She’d been dreaming again—the same nightmare that had plagued her for years. Every time, the dream was the same: a beautiful woman, garbed in a velvet gown, walking calmly into a castle that was completely engulfed by flames. Alexandra could always hear herself screaming, trying desperately to stop her, but each time she’d failed. The woman’s cries were always the last thing that filled her subconscious before she woke up.

The torturous dream had been the first manifestation of her gift. When she was younger, she used to try to stay awake to avoid the mayhem that might await her at sleep’s threshold.

As her gift progressed, she’d begun to have difficulty venturing into crowded places, as she would be bombarded by images and emotions from those around her. Her parents had done a fair enough job of making life easier for her. She’d been tutored at home and provided with therapists and prescription medication, which had served to diminish her experiences for a time. Her mother had always tried to comfort her, telling her that her gift was something to be cherished and embraced. She’d told stories of women within their family who’d also had this talent. But considering the countless psychiatrists who’d described her condition as a rare case of psychosis and the fact that her own mother hadn’t possessed any of the psychic traits, Alexandra had always been skeptical.

As she’d gotten older, she’d gained better mental control and could block out the imagery and emotions enough to fully function in everyday life, though she’d always been reluctant to date. There was no way to get close to someone without revealing some degree of her talent, and being rejected for being weird was painful. But she was tired of being alone, and a virgin.

Ring! Ring!

The sound startled her and she groaned, pulling the sheet over her head. Today was Sunday. Who the hell was disturbing her at this hour? The ring chimed again and she reached onto her night table, feeling around until she found the phone then bringing the receiver to her ear.

“Hello?” The dial tone greeted her.

She sat up as she realized it was her doorbell ringing. Tossing the receiver aside, she slipped into her robe and hurried to the door. The bell sounded two more times before she spied through the peephole. Her best friend, April, stood on the other side, looking quite impatient.

Alexandra unbolted the door and swung it open. Before she had a chance to say anything, the other woman swept in.

“Do you know how long I’ve been standing out there?” April asked.

Alexandra closed the door then headed toward the kitchen. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” She opened an overhead cupboard and reached in for a bag of coffee beans. “I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately.”

April seated herself on one of the counter stools, crossing her long, slender legs. “Still having those night mares?” she asked.

At five-foot-seven, April was an inch shorter than Alexandra and a year older. She also worked at the Daily Sun.

“Yeah.” Alexandra sighed. “And those pills Dr. Peters prescribed aren’t helping. I think I need a stronger prescription.”

“What you need is to get out of this apartment. When was the last time you did something fun?”

Seating herself on the stool opposite April, Alexandra slumped over the counter. “I think you’re right,” she agreed.

“Of course I’m right! You’ve been working too hard. Oh, and speaking of work, did you see my Friday article?” She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a copy of the Daily Sun, tossing it onto the counter. “It made front page.”

The newspaper landed next to Alexandra’s head with a flop and she looked up, reading the bold black letters that comprised the headline.

Winged Creature Sighted for Fifth Time in Central Park.

April turned the paper sideways so that they both had a correct view of the image. “Some guy was filming his kids when the thing appeared. He managed to get a few shots. It’s not a good picture, but it’s proof that something is out there.”

Alexandra looked closer at the picture, which showed a huge dark shadow with wings. “It’s a wonder I haven’t spotted this thing. I have a perfect view of Central Park from my bedroom window.”

The coffee machine bell went off. April hopped off her stool, waving a hand for Alexandra to remain seated. “I’ll get it.”

She smiled her appreciation then returned her attention to the article. “A pterodactyl? I heard the same thing on the news last night. Thanks.” She took the mug from April.

April retook her seat. “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a dinosaur.” She took a sip from her own mug. “I mean, such things don’t just appear out of nowhere, especially not in New York City.”

“Well, what do you think it is? You’re the one following the story. Have you come up with any conclusions yet?”

April looked pensive, her sleek brows furrowing together. “Either it’s an elaborate hoax, or some government experiment gone wrong. Anyway, enough talk about work. It’s Sunday. Right now you need to get cleaned up. There’s this huge fundraiser luncheon starting at twelve, and we have to be there.”

Alexandra regarded her with suspicion. “When have you ever been interested in any fundraisers?”

“Well …” She stood, adjusting her short chiffon dress. “Ever since I learned that this one is collecting money for scholarships and that all the powerhouses of this city will be in attendance, many of whom are eligible bachelors.” She checked her hair and makeup in the mirrored finish of the toaster.

“I should’ve known.” Alexandra laughed.

“Oh, and speaking of eligible bachelors, have you met your new neighbor yet?”

“New neighbor?”

“Yeah, I spotted him with some boxes while I was standing out there. He’s moving into the apartment next door, and he’s gorgeous.” She took Alexandra’s hand and pulled her from her seat then proceeded to drag her toward the front door.

On tiptoe, April spied through the peephole. “He’s there again!” she said, then motioned for Alexandra to take a look.

Alexandra followed suit and caught the blurred image of a tall man standing near a pile of boxes in the hall. A flutter of excitement danced in the pit of her belly. The only other male resident on her floor was shy Mr. Winston, who preferred the company of his eight cats to that of a woman.

“I can’t believe someone is finally moving into 13A. It’s been vacant forever,” she commented, feigning indifference.

She continued to watch him and wished her hazy peephole was a proper spyglass. She could see only his obscured image as he lifted what appeared to be a crate of books from the top of the pile. He paused suddenly and turned, his eyes riveting to her small vantage point.

Alexandra gasped and spun away from the door. “He saw me!”

April raised a brow. “Please. You’re behind a door,” she scoffed.

“I know, but he looked right at me—well not at me, but at the peephole.” She grimaced when she realized how ridiculous her claim sounded.

April folded her arms with a sigh. “Do you see what I’ve been telling you? You need to socialize.” There was a brief moment of silence then a smile crept to her lips. “And I know just how to get you started.”

Alexandra’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open in a silent protest as the other woman reached for the knob and pulled the door open. Alexandra froze, acutely aware of the tall figure glaring at them. She was going to kill April the first chance she got!

April flashed a smile then turned to the man, offering him the same gesture. “Good morning,” she chirped.

“Good morning.” He nodded.

She flounced into the hall and began chattering away. “My name is April,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m only visiting, but you’ll see me around often.”

“My name is Marius Drakon.” He accepted her proffered hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Alexandra remained in the doorway. She couldn’t help but notice how deep and rich his accented voice was—like smooth, warm chocolate spread thickly over fresh fruit. She pulled the folds of her robe tighter when his eyes moved to her.

April motioned for her to come closer. “This is Alexandra, your new neighbor.”

“Hello.” Alexandra gave him a quick smile as she accepted his hand.

“It is a pleasure,” he said quietly.

Lean fingers enclosed her slender ones. The heat he exuded was electrifying.

April’s initial assertions were all too correct—the man was positively gorgeous. He was tall, and she was forced to incline her head to meet intense, slate-gray eyes that appraised her with an undeterminable emotion. He wore a white gauze shirt and black pants, and his long dark hair fell loose over his broad shoulders. He seemed groomed into old money, and he wasn’t wearing a ring.

Silently, Alexandra cursed herself. It wasn’t every day that she encountered such a man, and today of all days she just had to be barefoot with her hair in a wild cascade from a restless sleep. She could feel his eyes trailing over her, assessing. It was almost as if he could see right through the pink terry that covered her slender curves.

“You have an accent,” April commented. “Where are you from?”

A rise of discomfort enveloped Alexandra as Marius’s attention remained fixed to her. Strangely, she was becoming quite aware of her nakedness beneath her robe. Her nipples began to tingle and harden and she was grateful that the thick material adequately concealed their betrayal. It seemed like minutes lapsed before his silver stare finally left her.

“I am Romanian,” he supplied at last. “I have only just moved to the United States.”

April’s smile brightened. “Romanian, wow, so is Alexandra. You two have something in common already,” she informed him. “Maybe you guys can discuss it over coffee sometime. She has lots of free time, you know. She is single, after all.”

Alexandra shot April a deadly look. “Well, my mother was Romanian and my father was American,” she said to Marius with a strained smile. “And I would love to tell you the story of their meeting sometime, but right now we have to get ready for a fundraiser.”

“Nice meeting you.” April waved and shut the door.

Once they were securely out of sight, Alexandra turned on her. “What is wrong with you?” she asked in a harsh whisper. The woman was her best friend, but God, she could be embarrassing!

April regarded her with an incredulous expression. “I should be asking you that question!” she replied in a similar tone. “You had that tall, handsome hunk out there practically drooling all over you, and all you could do was stand there like some mute pigeon! Then, when I try to help things along, you run?”

Alexandra spun away and stalked to her bedroom. “Well, forgive me if I’m not inclined to make dinner dates with strange men in my robe. And he wasn’t drooling,” she countered. She wouldn’t allow herself to believe that she was so physically stunning that she’d taken the man’s breath away—especially after just rolling out of bed.

April was hot on her heels. “Are you kidding? Did you even see the way he was looking at you? He could barely take his eyes off you.”

“He was probably wondering when I last combed my hair,” she said, sliding open the door to her closet. “How could you do that to me, April? Do you know how embarrassing it was to have him see me this way?”

April placed her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about? You look …” She paused, wincing a little. “Well, we had to act quickly. There was no time to be concerned with appearances.”

With a groan, Alexandra disappeared into her closet. The man was beautiful, yes, but that wasn’t enough. So before she got herself all wound up weighing the potential for a relationship with him, she’d need to learn more about him.

“If it bothers you so much, then the next time you meet him, we’ll have to make sure you look your best,” she said.

“The next time?” Alexandra yelled from the closet. “I hope there isn’t a next time!”

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. And besides, you can’t avoid him forever. He lives next door.”

“Can we just change the subject?” Alexandra emerged holding two dresses. “Blue or lavender?”

“Lavender.”

Alexandra nodded. “Great. Now I’m going to take a shower.” She tossed the lavender dress across the bed and headed for the bathroom. “And not one more word about Mr. 13A from you.”

“Fine!” April shouted after her.

Alexandra closed the bathroom door and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn’t getting any younger, she told herself. Perhaps it was time she put some of her inhibitions aside. Her new neighbor was gorgeous and possibly interested in her. It would be a shame not even to try to get to know him.

Chapter 2

Marius remained in the entryway of his new apartment long after the door across the hall slammed shut. The image of the woman called Alexandra—the woman he’d been sent to kill—remained in his mind. He’d been hard-pressed to take his eyes from her, for she’d looked even lovelier than she had the night before. The shadows had deftly hidden the sleek lines of her face—a straight and regal nose that was befitting her lineage, long feathery lashes and soft, pouting lips. She was beautiful.

He’d noted that his mention of being Romanian had drawn her attention, and rightly it should have. Romania had been her home once, some five hundred years past. Her curious hazel eyes had reflected no knowledge of this. Instead, a gentle and honest nature had become apparent. And something more—strength, and a silent beckoning that oddly, he felt the urge to explore. It was hard to believe that behind those alluring pools lurked the presence of the witch Necesar.

Sometime in the early evening, while he was unpacking a set of two-hundred-year-old books, he heard a soft cry and a thud. He opened the door of his apartment and was surprised to find Alexandra on all fours in the middle of the carpeted hall, gathering packages of shredded cheese, shrimp and fresh parsley that littered the floor around her. A small, pink cat toy that lay a few feet behind her was the obvious culprit of her misstep.

“Mr. Winston and his damned cats,” she grumbled a second before she realized that she was no longer alone. Slowly, she turned her head toward him. “Hello,” she said with a pained expression.

“Good evening,” Marius returned, his gaze coming to rest upon her rear.

A wave of heat surged through him, and the muscles of his jaw tightened as he attempted to tame the carnal urge that was rising within.

Alexandra sat up quickly and adjusted her dress. “I hope I didn’t disturb you,” she said, tucking a lock of ebony hair behind an ear. “I just returned from the grocery store and didn’t watch where I was going.”

“No, you did not,” he replied before moving forward to assist her.

With a few deft movements, her grocery bags were repacked. He stood and extended a hand to her, noticing a brief hesitation before she placed her fingers in his. She had soft hands, delicate and smooth—a lady’s hands. He wondered if the rest of her was just as delightful and defied the urge to dip his gaze into her exposed cleavage.

“I’ll take them in,” he offered as he picked up her bags.

She didn’t respond immediately. Wariness flickered in her eyes. She was wise to be cautious, too. She had every reason not to trust him, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was nearly twice her size and could crush her slender frame with his bare hands. Last night the Spring Equinox had begun, and should she invite him in, she would start the process that would end in her death.

“Thank you,” she said at last and removed her keys from her purse. “Come in.”

She opened the door and as he crossed the threshold, victory raced through him. Was it so simple? Would his task be so easily accomplished?

Alexandra motioned toward the countertop. “You can put them right over there, thanks.”

He did as she asked and then turned to look at her. She appeared uncertain, and he wondered what she was thinking. Could she see beyond his facade? Did she suspect his true identity?

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Alexandra blurted out.

Marius’s brows raised a measure. Quickly he made his expression impassive. The last thing he’d expected was an invitation to share a meal with her. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t the softness he sensed in her eyes, or the gentle incline of her head, or the indelible image in his mind of her naked body that urged him to accept. Instead, it was the need to assure himself that she was indeed the last of her bloodline. He would glean information from her, and once he’d learned all he needed to know, he would leave.

He offered her a subtle smile. “What are you preparing?”

“A seafood casserole. It’s my special recipe,” she told him.

“Then I would be delighted to stay and have dinner with you.” His attention fell to her ripe lips as they curved into a brilliant smile.

“Great,” she said. “Just give me a few minutes to change.”

She tossed her keys onto the counter and disappeared into her bedroom. When the door shut behind her, Marius focused his attention on his surroundings. The decor was of a contemporary style with a sprinkling of Romanian influence. A large tapestry that hung on the wall of her dining room caught his eye. He sauntered toward it, recognizing the depiction immediately.

He could almost feel the chill of the wintry mist that was settled over the ground, smell the pungent odor of moist earth and decaying leaves that rose from the lake that he knew lay just beyond the frayed ends of the textile. It was Elburich Castle in its prime. Now, it was a vacant ruin that howled with the ghosts of its past.

Marius inhaled softly. Alexandra had returned. Her entrancing fragrance drifted into the room to assail his senses. “You are a collector?” he asked without turning around.

There was a brief moment of silence before her composed response came. “No. That has been in my family for generations. It depicts a Romanian castle in the twelfth century,” she said as she moved to stand beside him. “It belonged to my mother.”

“Do you know the name of this place?” He turned his attention to her and drank in the view of her slender form clad in a clingy velour hoodie with matching pants. Something within him stirred. It was more than the carnal wanting that had harassed him earlier. It was a need to learn more about her.

“No,” she replied.

Their gazes locked in an unconscious mating of intense attraction. He found himself drawn into her stare, unable to look away. She was so lovely.

“I should start dinner,” she breathed softly. “Would you like something to drink while you wait? Some wine, juice, coffee maybe?”

“Some wine would be fine, thank you.”

She nodded and flashed him a hesitant smile before moving to the other side of the countertop that divided the kitchen from the dining room. There she busied herself with the task of gathering the ingredients for her casserole.

Marius’s attention strayed to the tapestry one last time. All he could hope for now was freedom, and there was only one way to bring that about. He knew what he had to do.

“Red or white?” Alexandra asked as she held up two bottles of wine.

“Red,” he responded somberly.

She nodded and popped the cork on the wine bottle, pouring him a glass. “I think I’ll have some, too. So, why did you choose to move to New York?” she asked.

Marius accepted the glass. “It is a big city with much opportunity. I thought it would be a good place to live.”

“Me, too. I’ve only been here for about a year. And you’re right, it is a good place to live. There’s a lot to see and do.” She strapped on an apron.

He took a sip of the wine. “Where did you live before coming here?” he asked, seating himself on a stool.

“Washington, D.C. I was born there and lived there all my life.” She turned away to rummage through a cupboard.

Marius noted the perfect curve of her rear beneath the pants. With her transfixing eyes and curvaceous frame, he was hard-pressed to remind himself that she was his enemy.

She returned to the counter with a baking pan. “I landed a great job here, so I moved.”

“Do you have family in Washington? Brothers or sisters?”

“My mom and dad were the only family I knew, except an aunt on my father’s side. After they died, I needed a change.” She paused. “It was hard, leaving everything I had ever known, but without my parents, there was nothing to stay for.”

A brief silence lapsed between them.

“How old were they?” Marius asked with sincere interest.

She kept her eyes averted. “Mom was fifty-two and dad was fifty-eight,” she replied solemnly. “Mom wanted us all to spend the summer in Bucharest. It was her first time back there in almost twenty-seven years. She and Dad went ahead, and I was to follow a week later.” She paused, obviously blinking back tears. “They never even made it to the city. Somehow, Dad lost control of the SUV they’d rented and went off the road.”

Marius experienced a pang of remorse, for it had been his family who’d caused the accident. And it truly had been an accident. They’d believed that Alexandra’s mother, Marciela, was the final descendent of Necesar. His clan had just begun planning her mother’s death to coincide with the next Spring Equinox. They had been surprised to learn that Marciela was returning to Romania to sell her family’s estate, especially after so many years of maintaining it. Against Lord Drakon’s wishes, several of the clan members had gone to look upon the individual who barred the way to their freedom. It was along the highway to Bucharest that Alexandra’s father had caught a glimpse of one of the gargoyles and in a panic had lost control of the vehicle.

Devastation had spread quickly through the Drakon clan, as it had seemed their final hope for restoration had been shattered by Marciela’s early death. However, it had taken them only a few weeks to learn that there was one remaining descendant of Necesar. And thus, here he was—the bearer of Alexandra’s ill fate.

“Would you like some more wine?” she asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

“Please.”

His gaze strayed to her face as she leaned over to refill his glass. He could tell that she suppressed much of her feelings. If it was as she said and she had no one, then she had no shoulder to cry on. Strangely, he found himself filled with the need to reach out and draw her into his arms. His father had warned him to expect cunning and deceit, but that was not part of the woman who stood before him. No one, not even the heiress to a curse, deserved to suffer alone.

Chapter 3

Dinner had gone amazingly well, Alexandra surmised a few nights later as she lay in bed. Her usual thing would have been to thank her new neighbor for his assistance then bid him a good evening, but April’s criticism had replayed in her mind, and she knew it would have been a sin to allow him to slip away without even trying to get to know him a little. And she was certainly glad that she had. She’d really enjoyed herself. Marius Drakon wasn’t only very appealing to look at, but he also possessed the degree of wit and intellect she craved in a male companion.

Of course, all that talk of her parents had left her feeling a bit embarrassed and alone. She wasn’t sure why she’d bared herself to him that way. She didn’t like talking about the deaths of her parents with anyone. On the surface, the pain had eased, but the hurt still lurked deep inside her heart.

Marius had listened intently, and after she’d finished her sad story, they’d debated history, particularly that of Romania. Alexandra had always been intrigued by the legends and mysteries surrounding the place. Marius had proven to be quite knowledgeable about the subject, to the point where he could name all the kings in order of succession.

His mind captivated her as much as his tall and lean body did. He exuded wisdom and absolute masculinity. She grew hot just thinking about him, and a sudden image of his powerful form pressed between her thighs flashed in her mind. An unwanted breathlessness assailed her.

With an impious groan, she rolled onto her back, squeezing her thighs together in a vain attempt to subdue the rapidly spreading heat that seemed to emanate from her most intimate place. Silently, she scolded herself for allowing her thoughts to wander in that direction. She’d known him only a few days. Although he’d given her no reason, she felt the need to be wary of him. Something dark lurked behind those beautiful eyes, yet she feared that was the very thing that most attracted her to him.

With a sigh, she reached onto her night table for her bottle of prescription sleeping pills. She slipped one into her mouth and, after a thought, took another. If she wanted to get any kind of sleep tonight she was going to need some additional help. The double dose worked quickly and within minutes she was falling helplessly into the world of dreams.

Marius flexed his hand over the hilt of the fourteen-inch Romanian knife. He stood at the foot of Alexandra’s bed, legs braced and massive wings erect as he gazed down at her. After completing the first step of the ritual so effortlessly, he’d found no need to delay the second. He’d come to harvest a lock of her hair.

She slept soundly with the sheet at her waist and entwined about her slender legs. The room was dimly lit by the street lights spilling in through the window, yet he could see every satiny inch of her naked body. His eyes devoured her, taking in the soft and ripe curves of her breasts, hips and thighs. She was perfection.

Regardless of his efforts to remain focused on the task at hand, he felt himself swelling with desire. He couldn’t discern why she had such an effect on him, for during his many years of life, he’d seen and had some of the most beautiful of women. There was just something about Alexandra—something that called to the more primitive nature within him.

Shaking himself, he moved to stand at the side of the bed. He would do it quickly—she wouldn’t even awaken from her sleep. His gaze crept over her a second time. Such a waste, he thought. A woman like her was every man’s dream—she was made for loving. Another surge of desire shot through him and his grip tightened on the hilt of his knife. He should be done with this task before he lost himself to witless thinking.

He lifted a long tendril of ebony hair from the spill that covered her pillow. It was soft, weightless gossamer threads of shimmering silk. One quick flick of his blade and the smooth length fell away from the lock that remained in his hand. Carefully, he placed it within a leather pouch at his waist.

In her sleep, Alexandra sighed softly. A flash of silver between her breasts caught his attention. She wore a small amulet attached to a rope chain. With the tip of his blade, he lifted it then took it between his fingers to examine the outline of the falcon at its center. The symbol was unmistakable, for it had haunted his family for hundreds of years; it was the Dancescu crest.

Slowly, he replaced the amulet against her chest, his fingers grazing her soft skin. His hand lingered in that spot, gently circling the circumference of the heirloom.

Again she sighed, her full breasts rising and falling with the effort. Marius stilled and his gaze crept back up to her face, fixing upon her lush lips. She was so enchanting. He would taste her just once before leaving.

He placed the blade to the right of her pillow and lowered his hard mouth to graze her lips in a tender kiss. When he withdrew he noted that his pulse had quickened and his breathing was slightly labored. And what was worse, he yearned to taste her a second time. Before he could justify this desire, his head fell again, bringing his lips against hers with increased intensity.

Alexandra groaned beneath him and her lips parted to welcome his hungry kiss. He devoured her, tasting every inch of her mouth. When her soft, wet tongue grazed the tip of his own, he retracted as if seared by hot iron.

What vile witchery is this? The woman is intoxicating!

Blood surged through his veins and he could feel his manhood strain against the material of his pants. With a predatory growl, he dipped again and his mouth found the delicate curve of her neck and shoulders. In her sleep she gasped, her soft breath warm against his ear.

Marius worked his way along her shoulders then found the ripe mounds of her breasts. His fanged mouth enclosed one at a time, sucking greedily while his large, clawlike hands moved to encircle her slender waist.

With a wanton cry, Alexandra arched from the bed, offering herself to him. “Yes,” she breathed. “Please, don’t stop.”

With this encouragement, Marius traced a path of fiery kisses down her flat midsection. A haunting voice at the recess of his mind screamed at him and he knew he should take heed and cease this blasphemy, but it was too late. His self-control had fled and he could think of nothing save possessing the soft and beautiful woman beneath him.

He spread her legs wide then slipped his hands beneath her rear, lifting her off the bed. He took only a moment to gaze upon her smooth softness before his mouth descended upon her hot, moist core. He ate greedily, his studded gargoyle’s tongue thrusting deep as he drank of her sweet nectar. Tender flesh began to writhe beneath him in shameless and suggestive undulation, urging him to complete his onslaught.

He lifted her higher, allowing his tongue deeper invasion into her secrets and a moment later, her entire body began to tremble with a climatic orgasm.

Marius fought to catch his breath. He couldn’t understand what had just happened. He’d come with only one task in mind, yet somehow he’d found himself driven to touch and taste her. Even now he battled the urge to pin her where she lay and appease the ache in his loins. He’d allowed himself to be weakened by her, his enemy. He was unworthy of the Drakon title.

She dreamed of a sensuous heat that engulfed her, seeping in and out of her mind and body. She was helpless against it and could do nothing but succumb to the intense pleasure it offered.

Alexandra screamed. She spread her thighs wider and arched higher off the bed as she welcomed the shuddering release. She felt herself being lowered back down and she abruptly realized that this was no dream. Her eyes flew open and her moan of pleasure quickly became a shriek. Thinking only that she needed to get away, she rolled off the bed and landed on the floor.

The broad shadow that was crouched at the foot of her bed glared at her with fiery eyes that reflected a deep and burning passion. It rose slowly and the spill of the moonlight fell over it.

Alexandra was rendered motionless. The creature was unlike anything her mortal mind could conjure. His face and body resembled those of a man—he was tall and powerful like the Greek gods she so loved to read about—he wore only a fitted pair of black pants that clung to his lean waist and sculpted thighs, and boots of the same foreboding hue complemented his attire. Yet, he was no man, for horns crowned his head and great wings guarded his back. Is he a demon?

With a savage growl, the creature snatched his blade and fled through the open door and into the night.

Had what she’d seen been real? Her heart was racing, and her trembling fingers found their way to the wet and throbbing place between her thighs. One thing was certain—she’d experienced an intense orgasm. A gust of cool night air flooded her room, lifting the sheer drape, and she shivered. She was also certain that the glass door had been closed. Something or someone had climbed in and assaulted her while she slept.

Still trembling, she grabbed the phone off the night table and began to dial the police, but paused before her fingers could engage the third digit. What would she tell them? That a demon had just invaded her seventh-story apartment and given her great oral sex? She hung up and dialed her psychiatrist instead.

Chapter 4

The next morning Alexandra was still unsure if what she’d seen had been real or some sort of twisted dream. She’d decided to keep the experience to herself, at least until her 7:00 p.m. appointment with Dr. Peters. Instead of dwelling on it, she poured herself into her work. The story on the mysterious Hyde Park fires still needed to be finished.

She sat behind her desk and began sifting through the countless photographs and notes that she’d collected over the past two weeks. Her mind immediately began to race, its performance no doubt fueled by last night’s events. Images and words began to flash within her thoughts. She snatched a pen from her desk and began scribbling down everything she saw.

Alexandra was about to leave her desk to follow the leads she’d obtained from the photographs when her attention was drawn to the plasma TV, mounted on the wall, that broadcasted the news during the day.

“In Pennsylvania, the body of a female was discovered in an abandoned building early yesterday morning.” The reporter spoke somberly. “The partially decomposed corpse has been identified as twenty-seven-year-old Trish Gooding, who has been missing since last Tuesday. This murder brings the count to three within the Union City area, and detectives have concluded that it is the work of the Penn State Serial Killer.”

Alexandra’s heart felt heavy. She didn’t understand how an individual could be so callous as to regard human life as nothing but a tool for his amusement. How could a man’s conscience allow him to snatch a young woman from her home, rape her, torture her and kill her?

She was about to turn to go when an image on the TV made her pause. A photograph of a young girl.

“In other news, twelve-year-old Mady Halman went missing on Friday evening,” came the reporter’s voice. “She was last seen a few blocks from her home in the South Bronx area.”

Alexandra froze as blurry images flashed before her eyes. The reporter’s words were lost in the heavy drumming of blood rushing to her brain. She could see Mady, walking in the park. A tall man, his face obscured by a hooded sweatshirt, talking to her. Taking her. Then darkness. Blood. Pain. A young girl’s screams. Then the uncanny image of Trish Gooding, fleeing for her life.

Alexandra gasped as she came abruptly back to the present. She was shaking and the breath had been snatched from her lungs.

It was as if she’d been standing right there, watching it all take place. She’d felt the child’s pain. Mady was alone, crying for her mother and receiving only silence in return. The Penn State Serial Killer had kidnapped that child, and he was going to kill her.

Alexandra knew what she had to do. She couldn’t wait for her certainty to be confirmed. If there was a chance to save that little girl, then she was willing to take it. She hadn’t been able to save her own parents, but she’d do everything in her power to save this little girl.

With hardened resolve, she headed toward the editor in chief’s office.

“Come in!” came Mr. O’Reily’s reply following her knock.

Alexandra entered to find him perusing a pile of articles on his desk. He shot her a quick glance over the rim of his glasses. “Barret, what can I do for you?” he asked.

She braced her hands on his desk and fixed him with a determined look. “I want the Mady Halman story.”

“That’s breaking news, not a feature. And I assigned that one to Thomas already.” He refused her without taking his eyes from his work.

“Then reassign it. I want it.”

He looked up then, his eyes narrowing. Alexandra knew that her behavior was out of character, for she’d never made a fuss about getting any particular project.

He reclined in his chair. “Are you done with the feature on the victims of the Hyde Park fires?”

“Well, no, but I’ll finish it before the end of the month. I just want this story.”

“I can’t have you working two stories at once and I need that Hyde Park article completed by Wednesday,” he told her firmly.

Alexandra sighed in exasperation. “Look, I’ll get it done and have it on your desk by tomorrow if I need to. Just give me a chance. I need to do this.”

His eyes focused on her. After what seemed like an eternity of silent assessment, he nodded. “Fine, but if you don’t have the Hyde Park article on my desk by Wednesday morning, I’m pulling you out.”

She nodded with a smile. “Thank you, sir.” All she needed was enough time to locate Mady.

“You’re not crazy, Alexandra,” Dr. Peters said from behind his desk. “You were just hallucinating because you overdosed on the medication I ordered.”

Alexandra frowned up at the ceiling. “It all seemed so real.” She was curled up on a leather chair with her shoes off.

“That’s what hallucinations are like,” Dr. Peters continued. “It’s very hard to distinguish one from reality. What you shouldn’t have done was taken that additional tablet.”

“I know,” she groaned. “But lately my nightmares have become so vivid. I can’t seem to get enough sleep.”

“I understand that, but what you did was very dangerous. You should’ve simply come to me,” he scolded.

With a sigh, Alexandra looked at him. He was a small man in his early sixties and he wore wire-rimmed glasses that made him look like an owl.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “But I still don’t undertand how taking one extra tablet could cause me to visualize something like that. I mean, I usually dream of castles and fire. So, why am I hallucinating about this creature?”

The doctor clasped his fingers together on his desk. “There is a logical reason for that, I’m sure.”

She sat up. “Like what?”

“Well, if you consider all the hype surrounding the recent Central Park sightings of a mystery creature and your proximity to that location, I daresay that you’re transferring suppressed fear into imagery,” he said.

Alexandra thought for a moment. It sounded logical, except that she entertained no fear where the mysterious Central Park sightings were concerned. She respected Dr. Peters’s opinions, but there was no way she was going to allow him to inject emotions into her mind. If she’d been hallucinating, it was definitely not due to fear. “And what about the orgasm?” she asked.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Well, what you experienced is actually quite common in both men and women. It’s called a nocturnal orgasm or better known as a wet dream.”

When she fixed him with a look of skepticism, he continued. “Alexandra, you must understand something. The mind is very influential. If you believe something is happening to you, then naturally your body will respond. So, having an orgasm during a dream or hallucination isn’t unheard-of.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she sat there in a con templative trance as her thoughts returned to the previous night. Dr. Peters was a wise man and everything he said seemed to make sense, yet she couldn’t bring herself to believe that what she’d seen had been only a figment of her imagination. There were just too many indications that something or someone had indeed visited her during the night.

Dr. Peters stood and came to the front of his desk. “Alexandra, you really must try to forget this,” he said as he seated himself on the lacquered oak finish. “I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no, you’re not crazy. I’m certain it was the overdose that initiated this experience.” When she turned attentive eyes on him, he continued. “What you need now is a warm bath and some rest and I promise you, as long as you follow my instructions, you’ll be fine.”

Dr. Peters’s words replayed in Alexandra’s mind as she stepped out of the taxi. He was right; the idea of what she’d seen was a little farfetched. This was New York City and strange things happened every day, but to think that there was a creature out there that visited lonely women in their beds at night was preposterous.

She glanced at her watch. It was 9:00 p.m. already and the dark streets appeared all but deserted. She reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a file and flipped to the address page. Mady Halman’s picture greeted her, the girl’s sweet smile and innocent eyes tugging at her heart.

“I’m going to find you,” Alexandra promised softly as she replaced the file in her bag.

She shot a glance about her. The South Bronx definitely wasn’t the kind of place she wanted to frequent. Rows of identical, graffiti-covered apartment complexes lined both sides of the street and garbage littered the sidewalk.

She entered the building where Mady lived and was met by a foyer that reeked of urine and marijuana. She made her way up the dimly lit stairway, skipping over soda cans and cigarette butts. Somewhere on the first floor a door slammed and she could hear shouting. A baby started crying.

Alexandra’s heart pounded. She’d only seen places like this in movies and on the news, but she knew exactly the sort of riffraff that frequented them. She quickly counted the numbers on the apartment doors until she found the one she was looking for.

She knocked softly and a moment later the muffled voice of a woman greeted her.

“Who’s there?”

Alexandra focused on the peephole, for she was certain she was being observed from the other end. “Hi. I’m looking for Ms. Veronica Halman. I would like to speak with her concerning her daughter’s dis appearance.”

There was a brief silence, then the sound of a set of locks being released. The door opened a crack and a woman looked out from behind the chain.

“I’m Veronica Halman. Who’re you?” She was a middle-aged woman with a humble face that was etched with lines of grief.

Alexandra offered her a smile. “I’m Alexandra Barret. I’m a reporter for the Daily Sun. I just need a few minutes of your time, please.”

Her request was met by a look of exasperation. “Another reporter? I’m not doing anymore interviews. I’ve talked with so many people already, and no one has any idea what happened to my baby. So please, if you’re not here with something to tell me, then leave.”

She was about to close the door, but Alexandra placed a palm against it, stalling her effort. “Please, Ms. Halman. I only need to talk to you for a few minutes. I can help you,” she pleaded. “I can help you find Mady.”

She tried to appear confident, but inside fear and uncertainty dominated her. Making promises based solely on her visions was terrifying and guilt in spiring.

Ms. Halman eased the door open a measure. “Help me how?”

Alexandra wasn’t certain if she should reveal that she possessed a psychic ability that only of late seemed to be getting stronger. Most people didn’t believe in such things and now that she’d gained Ms. Halman’s attention, she didn’t want to risk losing it. But what other choice did she have?

“I’m … a psychic. I’ve seen Mady in a vision,” Alexandra responded. “She’s alive, and I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to see her returned safely home.”

A glint of hopefulness mingled with doubt reflected beyond the worry in the other woman’s eyes.

“Look,” Alexandra continued. “I know this isn’t something you hear every day, but I promise you, I’m authentic and everything you share with me will remain between us.”

Ms. Halman stared at her for a moment then eased the door shut. Alexandra could hear the chain being released and when the door reopened, Ms. Halman stood to one side and motioned for her to enter.

“Thank you,” Alexandra said as she slipped into the apartment.

The living room was small but neatly kept. A worn floral sofa was positioned against one wall, and on the other, a television set sat on a wooden stand. A toddler was seated in front of it, watching a cartoon show. He turned wide eyes on her and Alexandra sent him a smile as she stepped around him.

“You say you’ve seen her? Where is she?” Ms. Halman asked anxiously.

“I’m not sure, and that’s why I need your help,” Alexandra replied, noting the dark circles around the woman’s eyes. She wouldn’t dare mention that her vision had revealed Mady being taken by a man she suspected was the Penn State Serial Killer. Ms. Halman obviously had enough to contend with.

“Just tell me what to do. Please, have a seat.”

Alexandra complied as she removed a file and a small notepad from her purse. “I know this is hard for you, but please bear with me. I’m going to ask you a few questions. This information is important, so I need you to tell me everything you can. Is this the most recent picture you have of your daughter?” She slipped the photograph from the file.

When Ms. Halman nodded, she placed it on the table and continued. “I saw Mady walking. Where was she going?”

She cleared her throat. “It was Friday, around 4:30 p.m. Mady’d just finished her homework and she asked me if she could play with her friends in the park and I let her go alone.” She paused to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Which park? And what route did she take?”

“Brook Park. It’s only a few blocks from here, and we always take the main road. I usually walk with her, but her brother had a fever that day and I let her go alone.”

Alexandra knew what it was like to lose someone dear. “It’s not your fault,” she said empathetically. “Sometimes we don’t know when bad things are going to happen.”

“I’m her mother. I should’ve been protecting her.” She dabbed at her eyes again.

Alexandra fought the tears that burned her eyes. She saw herself in this woman, this mother. The pain she’d experienced when she’d lost her parents had been unbearable. She’d tormented herself, wondering what if. Yet no amount of wondering could have changed what had already taken place. This was different. Mady was still alive. She could feel it. And she knew that she could possibly prevent her murder.

“Ms. Halman, may I borrow an item that belongs to Mady, something dear to her?”

Curiosity registered in the woman’s eyes. “Something like what?”

“Anything that she loved.”

The other woman thought for a moment then nodded. She reached into the pocket of her housecoat, pulling out a gold charm bracelet. “I bought this for her on her twelfth birthday. She loves animals.” She passed it to Alexandra.

Accepting it, Alexandra noted that each little charm was shaped like an animal. “Thank you.”

Ms. Halman forced a smile, her eyes brimming with tears now. “The puppy is her favorite. I couldn’t afford a real one, so I was sure to get that charm attached.” She hung her head then, her body shaking as she sobbed silently.

Alexandra couldn’t help herself. She placed her notepad aside, slid toward the other woman and wrapped her arms around her. There were just no words to ease such a pain. All she could do was hope that she could keep her promise.

When Ms. Halman regained her composure, she sat up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just been so hard. I’ve always promised myself that I would do whatever it took to protect my children. That they’d never have to suffer through what I did.”

She met Alexandra’s questioning look. “Thirteen years ago I was working the night shift at a local diner. While walking home one morning, I was attacked and raped.” She looked away. “I became pregnant, and nine months later Mady was born. They never caught the guy. Somehow I managed to survive through it all. I even got married and had my son, though his father and I are separated now.”

Alexandra’s heart sank in her chest. She couldn’t imagine suffering through something like that. “I promise you, Ms. Halman, I’ll do whatever it takes to bring your daughter back,” she assured.

“Thank you.” She gave Alexandra’s hand a squeeze. “Please, excuse me for a moment.”

She stood and headed off toward what Alexandra assumed was the bathroom. She sat there, looking at the bracelet in her hands. Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to channel her mysterious ability. She didn’t really expect anything to happen, as she’d never been able to summon her visions, but it didn’t hurt to try. She didn’t notice the toddler moving toward her.

“Hi,” came his small voice.

Alexandra opened her eyes and a smile crept to her lips. “Hello. What’s your name?”

“Peter, and this is Muffy.” He held up a straggly, one-eyed stuffed rabbit.

“Well, hello to both of you.”

He smiled. “Are you the police?”

His question caught her by surprise. “Oh, no, I’m just … a helper.”

“Are you gonna bring Mady back?” He waited, his eyes wide with innocence and anticipation.

A great sadness tugged at Alexandra’s heart. With the police having no solid leads, she was the best hope for saving Mady. Her eyes fell once again to the charm bracelet in her grasp. “Yes, I’m going to bring Mady back.”

Chapter 5

Impatiently, Alexandra looked down the busy street, spotting the bright yellow hood of a cab making its way toward her. “Taxi!” she cried out, waving a hand.

The vehicle zipped by without even pausing. Two subsequent attempts rendered the same result. With a sigh she began walking up the street in search of a better location to catch a cab. She noticed a sign for Brook Park and decided that she’d stop there for a few minutes. Mady’s charm bracelet, which she’d fastened onto her wrist, hadn’t evoked any visions, but being in the location of the abduction just might stimulate her psychic ability.

And so she shrugged off her navy, pinstriped blazer that matched her knee-length pencil skirt, draped it over her arm and headed in that direction.

She’d only walked a short distance when an image a few feet in front of her forced her to slow her pace. It was the silhouette of a preteen girl, wreathed in an apparition-like glow. Instantly, Alexandra knew that she was having a vision, although she’d never had one quite this vivid before. Her guess was confirmed when the girl turned to look at her. Alexandra froze as vacant pools locked onto her. It was Mady Halman. Her face was impassive, yet Alexandra sensed a deep sadness that called out to her.

Mady turned then and began walking in the direction of the park. Regaining her composure, Alexandra fol lowed. After about a block, the image raced across the street, passing through the ongoing traffic, and Alexandra was forced to stop at the curb. From where she stood she could see Mady moving along the sidewalk. A van appeared then, and a man stepped out. The man from her vision.

Alexandra took a chance and wove her way through the traffic, but by the time she crossed the images were gone. She looked up and down the street and caught the tail end of the van turning a corner. Quickly, she raced in that direction, turning the corner and running halfway down the alley before she came to an abrupt halt. It was a dead end and there was no sign of Mady or the blue van.

“Hey, lady, can you spare some change?”

The voice startled Alexandra and she turned to face the man who’d spoken. He wasn’t alone. The three men who barred the entrance of the alley were tall and disreputable in appearance. They wore layers of dirty clothing, and she could smell their stench even from a few feet away.

“Sorry, I have no money,” she said, offering them a nervous smile. “I think I’ve made a wrong turn. If you gentlemen would excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said the shorter of the trio as he sidestepped to block her path. His tanned skin was covered with smudges of dirt and his straggly blond hair fell forward to shield half of his narrow face.

“Careful, Weasel,” another man spoke. “We don’t want to scare the little lady, now do we?” He was completely bald and his skin was as dark as midnight. He smiled, flashing yellow teeth.

The man called Weasel laughed. “I ain’t scaring her, Bubba. She just needs to do what we ask her to and she’ll be fine.”

The third man advanced a step and with a quick flip of his wrist, he produced a pocket knife. “And if she doesn’t, we’ll cut her!” He leered.

Alexandra’s heart drummed in her chest when the man holding the knife took another step toward her. He looked more forbidding than the others with his towering height, pale skin and the tattered patch he wore over his left eye. She shot a frantic look down the alley. Two solid walls of brick surrounded her on either side, and no doorways offered hope for help. The only way out was through them.

Bubba turned to the man on his left. “Put that thing away, Scratch. I’m sure we won’t need to do any harm. This little lady isn’t gonna give us no trouble, isn’t that right, missy?”

She took a step backward, clutching her studded saddlebag. “I told you before, I don’t have any money,” she said, trying to mask the slight tremor in her voice.

“I don’t have any money,” Weasel mocked in a distorted voice. “We heard you the first time, broad. We just don’t believe you. All dressed up in your fancy suit, smelling real good, and you expect us to believe you don’t have any cash? What are you, some kinda social worker or something? Well, I’ve got some special needs you can attend to.” He was moving closer now, circling her slowly.

Alexandra stiffened, holding her breath as his gaze traveled from her black wedges up her slender, stocking-clad legs to the smooth curve of her hips in the formfitting skirt, her narrow waist and the slightly revealing V-neck of her ruffled blouse.

When his eyes snapped back up to meet hers, he wore a sadistic grin. “Hand over your purse!”

Slowly, she slipped her designer handbag from her shoulder and passed it to him. She was shaking all over, for she knew that they would find nothing in it to appease their greed. She’d been in a rush to leave her apartment that morning, and she’d failed to pack her wallet. All she had was a MetroCard and a few dollars, barely enough for a taxi home.

Weasel snatched the purse from her and his accomplices gathered around to inspect their bounty. The zipper was yanked open and he rummaged through the pockets, discarding anything he thought useless. Her cherry lipstick, followed by her address book and then her notepad, hit the gravel. When he pulled out her mini tape recorder, he tossed it to Bubba, who held it up for inspection.

“I think we can get a few bucks for this,” Bubba commented.

Scratch leaned over to look at it, as well.

Alexandra was grateful for the diversion and she eased to the left as she calculated the distance to the main street. She could make a run for it. She would probably get caught, but at least she’d be near enough to scream and hope that someone would hear her.

Without a second thought, she swung her blazer over Weasel’s head and gave him a firm shove, sending him stumbling into the others.

Not even looking back, she raced toward the ongoing traffic as fast as her heels would allow. She heard an angry growl and then the heavy thud of footfalls behind her. In the next moment, a punishing hand grabbed her arm and she was yanked violently around. The sleeve of her blouse ripped and she was propelled to the right, where she slammed into the brick wall and fell to the ground.

Recovering quickly, she looked up to see Weasel tossing her shirt sleeve aside and storming toward her. She tried to scramble away, but was promptly blocked by a pair of long legs. Scratch stood above her, turning the knife around in his hand.

“I guess you don’t like your pretty face.” He sneered.

Weasel came to stand beside him. “I think we need to teach her a lesson.” He reached down to twist a lock of her hair about a grimy finger.

Alexandra tried to push his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

“Man, shut that bitch up!” Bubba, who was still rummaging through her purse, barked.

Scratch squatted next to her, bringing the knife dangerously close to her face. “Make another sound and I’ll cut you, I swear I will.”

His fetid odor engulfed her and she was forced to hold her breath. Her heart was racing. Only once before had she been so afraid, when she’d gotten the news of her parents’ deaths and she knew she was all alone in the world. Yet she’d survived that, and somehow she’d survive this.

With a laugh, Weasel grabbed her right arm and brought her wrist to his gaze. “Now ain’t this pretty,” he snarled as he snatched away the charm bracelet.

Alexandra sucked in her bottom lip to avoid crying out as the gold chain cut into her skin.

He held it up to the dim light. “I bet I could get a few bucks for this.” He bit into it before stuffing it into his pocket.

“Please,” Alexandra began softly as she tried to ignore the sharp point of the knife that hovered near her cheek. “That doesn’t belong to me. If you want money I can get some for you, but please, I need that bracelet.”

The two men near her erupted in laughter. Scratch traced the smooth edge of the knife against her jawline. “Did you hear that, Bubba? The broad is trying to bargain with us.” He laughed. “Says she’ll give us money if we give her back her bracelet.”

Bubba tossed Alexandra’s handbag aside. “What money? All she has in here is twelve bucks,” he said as he recounted the bills.

Weasel walked toward him. “Jeez, is that all?”

“Cell phone,” Bubba replied as he passed the lavender, rhinestone-encrusted object to him.

Left alone with Scratch, Alexandra turned frightened eyes onto him. He leered at her. He seemed to thrive on her fear.

“I bet you got some valuables under your clothes,” he said as he trailed the knife along her neckline. “There’s only one way to find out now, ain’t there?”

The tip of the blade slipped beneath the top button of her blouse and with a tug, it popped away. The upper half of her top fell open.

Alexandra’s breath caught when, with a grin, he positioned the knife under the second button. Desperation flared though her. She wasn’t about to sit still and allow this dirty bastard to violate her. She grabbed a handful of dirt and gravel and tossed it into his face.

The retaliation came as a surprise and Scratch fell over, screaming from the pain in his one good eye.

“The bitch tried to blind me!” he shouted, drawing the attention of his accomplices.

Alexandra was about to jump up and make a run for it when a loud thump came from somewhere at the rear of the alley. The earth beneath them vibrated and the lid of the big, rusty Dumpster slammed shut. All eyes turned toward the shadows.

“What was that?” Bubba asked.

Weasel shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

Using the wall for support, Alexandra stood slowly. She shot a glance to the exit of the alley and when she looked back the three men were approaching her.

Scratch, who was squinting, retrieved his knife from the ground. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, bitch!” he spat.

Another sound emerged from the rear of the alley, making them pause a second time. It was a low and ominous growling that was like nothing Alexandra had ever heard before.

“Man, what is that?” Bubba asked again.

The noise grew louder and a large figure loomed in the shadows.

Weasel took a step backward. “Maybe a dog,” he suggested nervously.

“Man, that ain’t no dog,” Scratch said.

“Then what is it?”

The dark figure flew from the ground into the shrouding darkness overhead, rattling the fire escape. Incredulously, Alexandra blinked her eyes. The thing had moved quickly, but the brief moment in the light had been enough for her to recognize it. And if she’d seen correctly, then the thing that stalked them was the very creature that had visited her the night before. But … how could it be? She’d been hallucinating, right?

Her three assailants stumbled backward with their gazes turned to the sky. “Where’d it go?” Weasel shouted.

“I don’t know,” Bubba replied as he pulled a short knife from his pocket. “But if it comes down here, it’s gonna get what it’s looking for.”

Scratch kicked angrily at the gravel. “Come out!” he taunted. “Show yourself so I can cut your throat!”

Before the last word spilled from his lips, loud vibrations from the fire escape echoed through the air and the shadow sprang forward, disappearing again into the overhead darkness.

Weasel retreated a few paces. “What the hell!” His eyes were wide and fear danced within them. “Did you guys see what I just saw? That thing has wings!”

The low, guttural growls persisted and in the next moment, the creature leaped from the shadows, coming to land before them in a huddled position. Slowly, it rose like a demon emerging from the pits of hell, its wings spanning a full length of about twelve feet, its long tail slashing the night air.

Alexandra stood frozen with her back pressed against the wall. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The creature was just as she remembered him, tall, powerful and beautiful. For an instant, his transfixing eyes set upon her and a shudder racked her body. Hours ago those penetrating eyes had draped her with lust and blazing desire. Hours ago he’d spread her thighs wide and tasted the very core of her womanhood, when she’d shuddered with a climatic release that would’ve put a wanton to shame.

A scorching heat made its way up her legs and down her breasts, coming to unite in that soft place between her thighs.

Her present danger was forgotten and all she could think was that the creature was real—flesh and blood and not a figment of her imagination!

Marius flexed his wings, assessing the situation.

The three men stumbled backward another step. “Hey, it’s too early for Halloween!” The one called Scratch sneered.

“Man, I don’t think that’s a costume,” Bubba said as he and Weasel staggered away another few paces.

“Oh, yeah? Well, watch me cut that ugly mask off his face!” Scratch poised himself for a fight, his fingers flexing over the handle of the knife. “C’mon, you weirdo freak!”

With slow, confident strides, Marius advanced upon them, his gaze pinned to the man wielding what appeared to be an arrowhead. He’d been following Alexandra when, from the roof of an apartment building, he’d spotted her turning into an alley. By the time he’d discreetly found his way to the roof overlooking the alley, the three men had trapped her. An unexplained rage had filled him as he’d witnessed Alexandra being thrown against a wall. Then when the largest of the trio had brought the tip of his weapon against her chest, severing her button, a new anger had possessed him—the very anger that flooded him now. He told himself that it was due to the fact that the Lunar Ritual had already began and should something happen to her before its completion, his family’s curse would be sealed for eternity.

The man called Scratch charged, his knife held high for the anticipated assault. Marius turned his attention toward his assailant just as Scratch swung his blade. Marius caught the man’s arm, but not before the sharp point slashed his chest. His eyes narrowed on the thin film of blood forming where it had made contact and a deep growl reverberated within his chest. His grip tightened on the thief’s wrist and the weapon fell from the man’s fingers.

Scratch let out a loud, agonizing cry that was cut short when Marius snatched him off his feet by his throat. Holding him high, Marius regarded him with distaste. He was of half a mind to snap his neck and end his repulsive existence, but he hadn’t come to New York to start a laundry list. The man was insignificant. With an aggravated growl, he threw the thief toward the Dumpster, where Scratch hit the brick wall and fell unconscious to the ground.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Weasel exclaimed, and he and Bubba turned and fled.

Slowly, Marius approached Alexandra, who remained motionless against the wall. He paused when he came within a few feet of her, his wings folding. His gaze drifted to her full mouth, parted so sweetly as she took small gasps of breath. Her blouse remained open where the button had popped away and he could see the smooth mounds of breasts that he knew were ripe and soft. Yet lust didn’t beset him, for he also caught sight of the red bruises on her forehead and wrist. The knowledge that those men had done this to her rekindled his anger and he wondered how he could feel protective toward someone he intended to kill himself.

She feared him—he could see it in her eyes, smell it even—and she was wise to do so. Yet he was tempted to assuage her worries—to tell her that she needn’t be afraid. He considered the hilarity of such a gesture. He stood before her, a monstrosity, a beast, a prince of hell—to expect her to simply dismiss his appearance was insanity. Then there was the fact that she was his enemy, that before the passing of the Spring Equinox, her blood would be on his hands.

A moan followed by the scurrying of rats sounded from beside the Dumpster. The thief was coming to.

Marius shot a look over his shoulder then returned his attention to Alexandra. “Leave this place,” he growled.

Feeling torn by emotion, he spread his wings again, shrouding her in darkness. Their gazes locked for an instant, hers reflecting unspoken gratitude, among other things. Time seemed to pause in that brief moment, preserving the torrent of sensations between them.

He turned away and took to the air, soaring into the night sky.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.