Free Midnight Embrace by Amanda Ashley Page B

true. Perhaps she had always known. "Are you…" She swallowed hard. "Are you going to kill me?"
    "No, Analisa."
    Her eyes widened. "You're not going to make me… what you are?"
    "No."
    She lifted a hand to her neck. "You…" A shudder of revulsion ran through her. "You drank my blood."
    "Yes. I am sorry."
    "Sorry?" She felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her throat. "Sorry!"
    "You should not have come here. What were you doing wandering around out in the rain?"
    "I told you. I went for a walk." She sat up, her cheeks flushed with anger. "I didn't know it was going to rain!"
    Surprised by her outburst, he felt himself grinning.
    "Well, it's true!" she said, annoyed by his reaction.
    "Ah, Analisa," he murmured. "You are so young. So very young."
    She wanted to deny it, but couldn't summon the words. She felt young. Vulnerable. And afraid. So afraid. "What…" Her mouth was suddenly dry. "What are you going to do with me?"
    He ran a hand through his hair, then shook his head. "I wish I knew."
    "Please let me go. I won't tell anyone what you are. I won't tell anyone about this place, or what happened here today. I swear it." Who would she tell? she thought frantically. Who would believe her?
    "Young," he murmured again. "So very young. There are many who would believe you." He looked past her, his thoughts turned inward. "Many who are searching for me, even now."
    "People are looking for you?" She started to ask why, and then realized there was no need. If he was really a vampire, there were undoubtedly many people hunting for him. To destroy him. She remembered the night in the library, his words echoing in her mind.
    There have always been tales of vampires, Analisa. Every civilization has its own legends and myths. The ekimmu of Sumeria, the chiang-shih of China, the vrykolakas of Greece .
    She had been so certain then that stories about vampires were only fables, tales told to frighten children. "But I thought… you said you were a doctor."
    "I am."
    "Who would go to a doctor who was a vampire?" she asked skeptically.
    "Those who have been bitten. Those who are dying, without hope."
    She lifted a hand to her throat. "You bit me in the hospital, didn't you?"
    He nodded.
    "And I got better. Dr. Martinson was amazed by my sudden recovery." She looked thoughtful, and then she frowned. "Why would your biting me make me better?"
    He lifted one dark brow. "Why, indeed?" he said, and waited for her to make the obvious connection.
    Her fingers plucked at the quilt that covered her and then stilled. "You gave me your blood," she said, her voice a whisper of disbelief. "You did, didn't you?"
    "Yes."
    "And it saved my life? You saved my life. Why? You didn't even know me then."
    "I heard your voice calling for help the night I came to you."
    "But I wasn't calling for you. And even if I had been, how could you have heard me? And why would you help a stranger who could not pay for your… your treatment?"
    "But you did."
    She touched her throat again. "You took my blood, in payment?"
    "A life for a life, sweet Analisa."
    The thought of his drinking her blood, of taking his in return, made her stomach clench.
    "Would you rather be dead?" he asked quietly.
    "Of course not. Why did you invite me to come here?"
    He drew in a deep breath. "Because you had nowhere else to go."
    "I don't believe you."
    "It is the truth." Part of the truth, at any rate, he thought.
    "You wanted my blood, didn't you?" she said, her voice filled with accusation. "A ready supply."
    He did not deny it. How could he?
    Her eyes widened with horror. "You gave me your blood. Am I… will I become"—she couldn't say the word—"what you are?"
    He shook his head. "No. I did not give you enough to bring you across."
    "Am I your prisoner, then?"
    "Have you been treated like a prisoner?"
    "No. You've been very kind. Very generous."
    "A small price, for what you have given me."
    She looked up at him. He stood there, unmoving, his gaze fixed on her face. He looked as