Chapter One

Mara screamed.

Hands bruised her flesh. Nails tore her skin and hair. Foul breath hissed in her face, and pain exploded in her neck. Each savage thrust of teeth kept time with brutal thrusting lower, in that place she'd been saving for a man she'd never met but only dreamed of...

"Miss, are you all right?" Gentle hands shook Mara's shoulder, and she snapped awake, grasped the librarian's wrists, and stopped just short of striking the woman in the face.

"God, I'm sorry," Mara breathed, releasing her terrified captive.

The librarian rubbed her wrists as she backed away from the small, dark-haired woman who had spent the past week reading docilely at a table by the faux fireplace in the corner of the library. "We're closing, Miss, and I'll ask you not to come back again."

"I'm sorry about grabbing you." Mara spoke with genuine regret. "I...I was attacked about a year ago, and I get horrible dreams. I really do apologize."

Mara rarely spoke of the rape that had left her scarred both physically and emotionally, that had nearly killed her. An attack so terrible, that in spite of all the visits with counselors and psychiatrists, she was still unable to remember the details, only the pain. Mara didn't like to discuss it, but she felt she owed the librarian some explanation, and also this particular Spanish library contained the most complete selection on a subject with which she'd become obsessed.

"All right. I suppose I shouldn't have shaken you, anyway. You'd fallen asleep and were very disturbed, but it better not happen again."

"Yes. Thank you." Mara drew a trembling breath and pressed her hands to her temples as the librarian left the study room for the front desk.

Mara stood, knocking several leather-bound volumes onto the gray carpet. "Damn. I'm so clumsy."

She stooped and gathered the books. A large hand picked up an especially heavy book by her toe, and she jumped, startled. She saw the hand was attached to a lengthy arm covered in the sleeve of a black coat. The arm led to broad shoulders, a strong neck, and a face which compelled Mara to stare. He was not extremely handsome, but he had an endearing face. He was smooth-shaven, his cheekbones high and broad. His straight nose was slightly snubbed, and his lower lip was very full, soft-looking. However, it was his eyes making her heartbeat flutter. They were deep-set with thick lashes and of the darkest blue she'd ever seen.

"Let me help you." His deep voice resounded in the empty room. And, like her, he was American.

"Thank you. I fell asleep and I guess I'm still not with it."

He glanced at the books. "Whispers of the Damned. The Book of Eternal Curses. Death Kisses. Just a little bit of light reading? No wonder you have nightmares."

She quickly gathered the books into a pile. As they stood, she noticed how tall he was. Tall enough to be intimidating. "I have strange tastes. Thanks for your help."

"You forgot one." He caught up to her. "Lords of the Moon."

Mara stopped and stared up at him. "You can read that?"

"It's an odd dialect, but not quite lost."

"At first I thought it was Latin. Not that my Latin's great. I should have paid more attention in class..."

"It is Latin. A form of it, anyway."

"Could you..." Mara shook her head.

"Could I what?"

"Nothing. There's no time. The library is closing. I just really wish I knew what was in that book. These others are all the same. Just a lot of folklore."

His lips curved in the slightest smile. "Of course it's folklore. You don't really believe in vampires and werewolves, do you?"

Mara forced a laugh. "Of course not. I'm just interested in...true crime. You know, psychos who think they're vampires and werewolves. Lycanthropy and such." She nodded to the pile of books she held in both hands. "You can just toss it on top. I have to take these to the desk. They don't let anyone check them out. I guess they're rare."

He took the books from her hands and brushed through the glass doors to the desk.

"Listen, Sir, you really don't have to..." Mara trotted to keep up with his long strides.

"Adam." He glanced over his shoulder. "I'll be here around six tomorrow to translate for you."

Mara paused beside him at the desk. Her hands trembled and her heart pounded. What a fool she must sound like!

"You really don't have to do that..."

"You want to know what's in the book?"

"Yes, but I hope you don't think this is some kind of crazy come-on."

Those dark blue eyes fixed on hers, and she felt heat rise in her face. What had made her say that?

"I'll see you tomorrow." He walked down the marble steps to the exit door. He turned, one hand on the glass. "And that's not a crazy come-on either."

Mara watched as he disappeared into the dark streets of Seville. She turned to the librarian and asked, "Would you hold these for me until tomorrow?"

Mara walked down the rain-slicked sidewalk to her hotel. She'd been in Spain for nearly a month. Before, she'd been in London and Romania. Romania! She laughed aloud at her silliness. She thought it would be the place to learn about vampires and demons. All the Count Dracula crap.

For the longest time, she thought her attacker had been an average maniac, but over the past year, strange flashes had come to her in dreams. Flashes of teeth. Blood. Powerful thoughts that invaded her mind just as the son-of-a-bitch had invaded her body. Maybe part of her didn't want to believe a human being had done such horrible things to her. She knew attacks happened, but to other people. She never thought she'd be a statistic. Maybe, in her own mind, she wanted to believe something unexplainable, something supernatural had attacked her, not simply a human monster -

She shivered and buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Her mind spun with phrases chanted in a language she couldn't grasp, with smoky fingers squeezing memories from her brain, with flesh and bone fingers -

She shook her head. Better not to think about it.

The past year had been strange, to say the least. Her best friend, Charlie, had been attacked by a man the same week of Mara's rape. Lucky for Charlie her husband—then a stranger to her—had fought off the lunatic. Mara was still trying to figure out the relationship between Charlie and her husband Jocelyn. So much had happened between them. Most of it Charlie didn't talk about, even to Mara. Before Charlie and Jocelyn married, the two women had confided in each other about everything. Mara didn't begrudge Charlie's relationship with Jocelyn. She was glad that her friend had found someone to love, but she still wondered what had happened to them prior to the wedding.

Right after Mara's attack, Charlie and Jocelyn had disappeared for months. Charlie had returned home by herself, devastated because she and Jocelyn had split up. Then he'd returned and the two had married. Not that Mara didn't like Jocelyn. He was a good man, but strange. Very secretive, and his ways had rubbed off on Charlie.

"Just more unanswered questions." Mara sighed, stepping into her hotel and taking the elevator to her fifth floor room.

Inside, she shrugged off her jacket and flopped on the bed. She should be home in Boston, finishing her final semester in college. As it was, her family was furious with her for squandering the inheritance her grandfather had left for her education on a frivolous trip to Europe. Frivolous! If they only knew the truth. Not that it would have mattered to them. Her parents had always been deeply involved with their own lives and careers and had never taken much interest in her.

Since her attack, she hadn't been able to concentrate. Instead of fading, the nightmares and violent emotions had increased with time. With every passing month, she recalled more details, each one of them enforcing her belief that something inhuman had taken her, fed off her, tried to control her. She'd been afraid to tell anyone of her fears, even the psychiatrists. God, they'd probably lock her away if they knew what she suspected!

"Maybe I'd be better off locked away," Mara murmured, turning onto her stomach and hugging her pillow as she drifted to sleep. She was tired, but she was almost afraid to close her eyes. What if someday she became so lost in the nightmare she didn't wake up? What would she do if she ever clearly remembered what had happened that devastating day a year ago...

# # #

Adam sat in the tiny park behind the oldest section of Seville. He knew what it had looked like when it was first built although he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He was far too young for that. Ancestors had seen it. They told him. They gave him memories. Languages, curses, chants, visions. As a child, he'd found it difficult to categorize such memories, to separate them from his own. But he'd learned quickly. He'd always learned quickly.

He switched off the inherited memories, locked them in a dark little room, and concentrated on his own interests that needed to be explored. He knew from experience that certain thoughts should be allowed to roam free and then released or else they'd become obsession.

That woman he'd met at the library filled his mind. He'd first seen her when she'd entered the room. He'd been standing behind a shelf, out of her sight. Even when he'd taken a seat beside her, she'd been too absorbed in her reading to notice. She wasn't beautiful, but striking with dark hair braided down her back and a small, curvaceous body. Full lips and a sturdy jaw lent a look of strength to her softly curved face.

As he studied her, he realized what had drawn him to her. Her large, dark eyes were haunted. She chewed her lower lip, painted with chocolate-colored lipstick, and after several hours drifted into a light, agitated sleep. He'd been tempted to wake her himself, but the librarian had beaten him to it. The awakened woman's reaction had almost erupted into violence. She wore the look of a terrified animal, but her motions had been swift, like one trained to defend herself.

He hadn't intended to talk to her, but when she'd dropped her books, he found himself helping her, volunteering to translate a book about vampires. She'd denied believing, but something in her eyes had told him otherwise. If she did believe in such things, he should avoid her. No point in making even more trouble for himself.

Adam sighed and looked upward as the rain started. He closed his eyes, felt the water drizzle down his face. Raindrops were like the caress of cool fingertips.

He wondered what her name was...

# # #

Mara awoke feeling almost as tired as when she'd gone to sleep. She disentangled herself from bonds of twisted sheets. She didn't remember her dream clearly, but it had been about him again. She'd fought him, but he'd won. He always won.

She rubbed her bleary eyes and squinted at the clock by her beside.

"Damn it!" She sprang to her feet, nearly tripping on the bedspread she'd kicked to the floor, and tugged open the shades. The cars and foot traffic below were shadowed by dusk, and she knew her clock hadn't lied. It was five thirty in the evening. She'd slept last night and through the day, and in half an hour, the stranger she'd met at the library had promised to translate the obscure text hindering her all week.

Calling herself every kind of fool for agreeing to meet with a man she didn't know in a country she was just visiting, she flew to the bathroom, washed, and dressed in the first articles of clothing she touched: jeans, a baggy gray sweater, and worn black boots. Not even bothering to completely dry her hair or apply make-up, she grabbed her duffel bag and hurried for the elevator.

True, she didn't know this man from Adam...She burst out in hysterical laughter which caused the middle-aged couple with whom she was sharing the elevator to cast her odd looks. Adam.

She arrived at the library at quarter past six, wondering if Adam would still be there or if he'd ever shown up at all. She knew she must have looked liked a lunatic the other night. He was probably just having a laugh at her expense. Most likely he really couldn't translate the book.

As soon as she threw open the heavy wooden door of the library, her breath caught. Adam stood several feet from the reference desk gazing up at a mural of angels and demons battling on a field of black and red flames. His posture was soldier-straight, hands clasped behind his back, his tall, lean frame draped in a simple black coat.

He turned to her, a slight smile flickering across his mouth.

"I'm sorry to make you wait." She swept her hair behind her ears, suddenly wishing she'd at least put on some make-up or chosen a better outfit.

He held up his wrists, his expression touched with humor. "No shackles. You didn't make me do anything."

He picked up the book from the reference desk and held open the door to the small study room where they'd met the night before. She walked past him, forcing herself not to look at him. She inadvertently brushed against him as she stepped through the door and caught the odd scent of his cologne. It was a woody fragrance, like herbs or incense, more natural than manufactured. The door closed softly, and she sat at a small wooden table, taking a notebook and pencil from her duffel bag. He sat beside her and placed the volume between them.

"It's kind of long," she said. "If you only have an hour or so, I understand..."

"I'm in no hurry."

"I really appreciate this." She met his eyes and her stomach churned. She'd never seen such an expression in a person's eyes. They were completely honest, yet harbored a million secrets. They were strong, unyielding, yet compassionate, and they saw straight through to her soul.

The constant fear she lived with told her to walk away from him and not even bother with the translation, but something urged her to stay. Curiosity, she told herself. She wanted his skills for translation, but as a man, he didn't interest her. Lie. What a pitiful lie.

"It's my pleasure," he said. "It's nice to see another American."

"Are you here on vacation?"

"Business, really. And visiting a friend."

Mara nodded, her eyes focusing on her book. She had one friend. Charlie. And they hadn't talked since she'd taken off for Europe.

Adam studied her for a moment. "Are you all right?"

She drew a deep breath and forced a smile. "Of course. Whenever you want to start..."

"Lords of the Moon. It's a collection of legends from several countries. The oldest stories are from Africa and Greece, and many have been translated roughly from symbolic languages."

"Lords of the Moon. Are they vampires?"

"Yes." He met her eyes. "Funny. Most people would have thought werewolves."

Mara shook her head. "I've read a lot about these things. Werewolves are controlled by the moon. Vampires are more of a force to be reckoned with. They channel power for their own means."

"Interesting. After we finish with this book, you'll have to tell me more about your studies."

"You're interested in the occult? I never would have thought..."

"Why not?"

Mara shrugged. "You don't look like the type, that's all. But I guess most of the time people aren't what they seem to be."

He smiled almost imperceptibly and cast his dark eyes toward the book.

Most of the stories revealed little new information regarding the object of Mara's obsession, and she found herself concentrating more on the sound of Adam's voice than on what he was saying. Though his voice was lowered due to the library surroundings, she heard power in it. Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him, drawn by his tone and the strong line of his shoulder so close to her.

"'....shared a meal with the Baron's guests. When they all retired, drunk and sleepy, he drained them of life, all but one servant who appeared two days later...'"

"Wait, wait!" She snapped to attention, staring at the age-yellowed page. "Did you say he shared a meal? He ate?"

Adam skimmed the paragraph and nodded. "The demon shared a meal with the Baron's guests."

"And what happened to the servant?"

"She appeared two days later dressed in her burial robes. The mob burned her to ashes."

"I've never heard of a case of vampires eating." Mara took her bottom lip between her teeth, her smooth brow furrowed in concentration. "Are you sure this story isn't about a ghoul or something?"

"Why wouldn't they eat?" Adam gestured with a graceful hand.

"Because they're dead!"

"They're dead." He drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "They're dead, yet they walk and talk and drink."

"They drink blood! A real human being would vomit if he drank blood."

"Just because they're not human doesn't mean they're dead."

"So what are you saying, they're some kind of animal? Something natural?"

"Why not?"

Mara met his eyes, her lips tightening with scarcely controlled anger. "Are you laughing at me?"

His voice was firm but gentle. "I'm just trying to toss out different thoughts. You wanted to find uncommon knowledge, right?"

Mara sighed. "I guess. So you believe vampires are another kind of animal?"

"It's an idea. Even if they are supernatural, what makes us think this world isn't connected to the spirit world? I mean, many people believe when we die, the soul is released from the body, therefore an afterworld exists."

"What about atheists?"

"I guess they'd have to believe vampires are another form of life, if they exist at all."

"Life." Mara shook her head. "They're creatures of death."

"Human beings kill each other all the time. Are they creatures of death?"

Mara gave a short laugh. "They? Don't you mean we? Yes, I guess there are monsters in every species. I know that for a fact."

She felt his gaze upon her as she cast her eyes to her hands twisting on her lap. After a long moment, she asked, "What else does it say? Not to be pushy, but you can skip the cliché stuff. Anything that deviates from the normal garlic and sunlight junk you can leave in."

He bent toward the book, flipping quickly through the pages.

Mara narrowed her eyes at him. "God, I can't even read English that fast let alone old-fashioned gibberish. You've got to be a language expert or something."

He smiled. "My father is. I learned a lot from him."

Mara focused on Adam as he read. She wondered if his father was as good-looking as he was...

"Here. In this passage, it says they can walk by daylight, but their power fades unless invoked by fear or anger or lust."

"Lust? Physical lust?"

"I believe so."

"I thought after they changed they lost their ability to have sexual relations in a human way."

He smiled. "What a boring way to spend such a long life."

"They get their pleasure from drinking blood."

"I thought blood was food?"

"Food. Love, if they can feel it. Sex. Blood is everything to them...or so I've read. The idea such creatures could have sex...is so wrong."

Adam tilted his head slightly to one side, his smile fading. "You take all this very seriously."

"They're vermin. They steal what's not theirs. Soul-sucking rapists..." Mara stopped suddenly, gazing up at him with startled eyes. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm a raving maniac."

"Studies like this can really drag you in, but that's part of the excitement, isn't it? To think 'what if these creatures are real?' It would give a whole new view of the world."

"A frightening view. Does the book say anything about killing one? Do sunlight and stakes through the heart really work?"

He skimmed several chapters. "Here's a section on it. In most cases, they have an aversion to sunlight which brings me back to the theory they're simply another form of animal. There are humans who have sun sensitivity."

"Ok. So some vampires have a sun allergy." Mara smiled. "You like to play Devil's Advocate?"

"I guess it's my personality. I'm always curious."

"You must be, in order to be sitting here with me."

"You did catch my interest," he admitted.

Mara tensed. The last thing she wanted was a man to come on to her. Since her attack—other than a couple of casual dates with a friend from her college—she'd been sickened by the thought of going out with anyone. Adam didn't sicken her, however. Her attraction to him frightened her. He seemed nice enough, but every woman who ever got butchered by a psycho probably thought the same thing.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't."

"I was going to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me, but that's probably a bad idea for you right now?"

Her first impulse was to refuse, to walk away and forget about him and the book and continue researching on her own. Instead, she found herself saying, "There's a plaza across the street. I guess we could get something there. I haven't eaten all day."

He stood, closed the book, and picked up her jacket for her. "I'll ask them to hold the book. I can translate the rest tomorrow, if you like."

"I really don't want to be any more trouble."

"No trouble. I haven't had such an interesting conversation in a long time. Usually my father is the only person who indulges my weird tastes."

"He sounds like quite a guy."

"He is."

"And your mother?"

"It's just me and my father. He adopted me, actually. My birth parents were killed when I was very young."

"Oh...I'm sorry."

He smiled at her as they walked to the reference desk. "What's your family like? Any brothers or sisters?"

"A younger sister. She's perfect. Good career, successful husband, two-point-five kids. My complete opposite."

"I think there's a lot to be said for individuality."

Mara lifted her chin. "Yes, I guess there is."

As they stepped out into the dark, rainy street, Adam asked, "What's your name?"

She looked up at him, stunned. "God, how rude of me. Mara. My name's Mara."

"Mara. That's pretty."

"I always thought it was kind of blah."

"Not at all."