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everything…”
    “I’d rather you stayed. Besides,” he said, “you can’t very well go out dressed like that.”
    He was right, of course. She had forgotten that she didn’t have anything to wear, and she couldn’t very well go home wearing nothing but his robe, no matter how nice it was. Maybe, when he returned, she could borrow one of his shirts and a pair of sweatpants, though his clothes were certain to be far too large. Still, it was better than what she had on now.
    “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I guess I can stay until tomorrow.”
    “That’s not what I meant. I want you to stay here, with me, indefinitely.”
    She didn’t like the sound of that one bit and she stared at him in sudden alarm, wondering if she had made a fatal mistake in coming here.
    Sensing her inner turmoil, he said, “Shannah, I mean you no harm.”
    She didn’t know why, but she believed him. Still, she couldn’t stay. “I can’t, really…”
    “Of course you can.”
    “No. I have to go home. My apartment…” That was hardly a convincing argument. Her whole apartment would fit inside his living room. Of course, he didn’t know that. She thought of her small place, and compared it to his house. There was nothing at home that she would miss. And whether it was the man or his mansion, she felt much better here than she had in months. That made no sense, of course, but then, these days, very little made sense. Still, she couldn’t move in with this man. This stranger. She had been raised better than that.
    She shook her head. “No,” she said again, “I couldn’t, but thanks again for your hospitality.”
    He smiled faintly. “When I get back, I’d like a chance to convince you to stay. I won’t be gone long.”
    She watched him turn and walk away, heard the front door open and close as he left the house.
    What a strange man he was. Why would he want her to stay here, with him? Perhaps because he was a strange man? The thought sent fear flooding through her. Maybe he really was some kind of homicidal maniac. Maybe the reason she suddenly felt so good was because he was a drug dealer and he had slipped her something last night. Maybe he planned to sell her on the white slave market.
    Maybe she had better get the hell out of here while she still could!
    She turned off the stove and ran out of the kitchen. She wasn’t going to hang around to find out what kind of man he was, or just what plans he had in store for her. She was leaving this place right now, clothes or no clothes.

Chapter Five
    Ronan stalked the ever-changing shadows of the night, a predator in search of prey, a hunter on the prowl. He loved the night, the taste of the wind on his tongue, the anticipation of the hunt. There had been times, in the beginning, when he had despised what he was, loathed what he had to do to survive, but those feelings hadn’t lasted long. He had once been human, prey to what he had become. Now he was the predator; preying on mortals was natural to his kind. The memory of mortality and its inherent weaknesses were dim, overshadowed by the passing of time. The revulsion he had expected to feel the first time he satisfied his unnatural thirst had never materialized. One taste of the rich red elixir of life had driven all thought of repugnance from his mind. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter. Nothing had ever satisfied him more.
    Now, he moved through the darkness with ease, his preternatural senses testing the evening breeze. Sounds and smells assailed him on every side as he sought for the one who would satisfy his hunger.
    He bypassed a young couple holding hands, so caught up in each other he doubted either of them would have noticed had he chosen one or both of them.
    He moved past an old man sitting on the sidewalk in front of a seedy tavern, as well as several boisterous young men who reeked of booze and drugs.
    Moving on, he passed a rookie cop walking a lonely beat.
    And then he saw her, a middle-aged woman about to