One With the Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

floor. The place reeked of smoke and blood, alcohol and pungent herbs, all combining in noxious fumes that made him cough in protest. Had the vampire succeeded in destroying the cure after all?
    He turned to the girl. Her own eyes were big and frightened. He noted somewhere at a distance from himself that she was quite beautiful in an English sort of way; eyes so dark blue they looked violet, light hair a thousand colors of blonde, fair, fine skin now pinkened with her exertion. But all that paled as the slow vibrations washed over him. Even through the other odors he could detect her distinctive personal version of cinnamon and ambergris. It had been her vibrations that had confused him in the copse. The girl was vampire.
    *   *   *
    Jane looked up at the creature who had just defended her father and his laboratory. He might be as bad as the one who had attacked them, but she had realized immediately that she and her father had few choices. Monster or not, they must cast their lot with him. He at least wanted the laboratory and her father saved. That’s why she had run for a weapon. Now she wondered what she had done. The air was filled with the scent of cinnamon and that something else she couldn’t quite describe. His eyes weren’t red anymore. They were some light color between green and gray. But she couldn’t forget the red glow that was absolutely not human or the incredible strength he had displayed. And … there was something more alive about him than any other man she had known, in spite of the fact that he was covered in his own blood.
    Indeed, he stood in shirtsleeves and waistcoat soaked in blood, his wild, dark hair matted with it. His expression was desperate just now. Then she saw him recognize her for what she was. His eyes became watchful. He might see her as a rival for the cure. She swallowed. She was no match for him, even injured as he was. So she held out her hand.
    “Jane Blundell,” she said, “if you will permit so unorthodox an introduction. And this is my father, Dr. James Blundell.”
    “Well, I know why he’s workin’ on a cure,” the stranger muttered. His accent was like the ones she’d heard in Edinburgh, not nearly so broad as the Highlanders in the village. His lips were very mobile and expressive. Words seemed to ripple out over white, even teeth. Definitely not like the villagers, and really quite … fascinating. His nose was straight. Under a two- or three-day growth of beard she thought his chin was cleft. There were streaks of gray, obviously premature, at his temples. His dark eyelashes were lush, almost like a girl’s. And now that she was so close, she realized just how big he was, over six feet and powerfully built. The thrill between her legs was unwelcome. Lord, but she was untrustworthy these days! This creature might well kill her and here she was lusting after him. She could thank her infection for that.
    He looked uncertainly at her hand before he extended his own. When he saw that it was smeared with blood he jerked it back. “Pleased,” was all he said. Indeed he turned away, grabbed his cloak and threw it over the headless body. He swayed on his feet as he turned back to her.
    Her father wandered through the debris to her side. He carried the slate on which he chalked his formulas. It was cracked.
    “Is th’ place wrecked past savin’?” The vampire’s eyes burned with hope and fear.
    Her father sighed, and pushed a broken beaker from the table with one finger. It crashed to the floor. “No. Replacing this glassware will stretch my store, though. And the delay for repair will set me back at a crucial time.” He frowned.
    “Ha’ ye found it, then?” the stranger insisted.
    Her father glanced up to him. “What? Oh, the cure. No. It has proved rather elusive. The trick, you see, is killing the parasite without killing the host as she becomes human again.”
    The stranger’s look of hope dimmed. He set his jaw. “Well, then…” He moved to