Free Twilight Vendetta by MAGGIE SHAYNE

to the rocky shore far below them. She got the feeling he’d understood everything she’d said. Then got distracted by the way the wind was moving his hair.
    “There’s a movement afoot,” she said. “People are starting to protest, to complain. The media–”
    “The media? Really, that’s going to be the salvation of vampire kind? The media? Where celebrity gossip gets more air time than mass murders?”
    She tipped her head to one side, looking up at him. It was a little disconcerting, standing beside him. He was so much taller and so much bigger. His chest and shoulders strained the seams of the black polo shirt he wore, and his thighs were testing the strength of the denim of his jeans.
    “You hate us all, don’t you?”
    “I’ve got reason.”
    She lowered her head. “I don’t doubt it.”
    A quick glance his way revealed that her response had surprised him, at least a little bit. She drew a breath and asked, “So what do you think the salvation of your kind
is
going to be?”
    “Isn’t it obvious? We have to organize and fight back. There’s no way humankind can win an all-out war against us.”
    Emma widened her eyes. “Are you freakin’ kidding me? Of course there’s a way they can win. You go to war and you’ll be wiped out.”
    His lips thinned. “We’re stronger. One fledgling vampire is equal to ten mortal men, and an ancient one, equal to fifty. We’re immortal.”
    “Right. But you wouldn’t go up against a half dozen armed goops–excuse me, crows–to save my dad a little while ago.” She held up a hand before he could respond. “No. You were right to hold back. You’re vulnerable. You can bleed to death in a matter of minutes. If one of them shot you, it would’ve been all over. But that’s just my point. You go up in flames at the touch of a spark, you sleep like the dead during every hour of daylight. DPI has weapons. They have drugs. They’ve been researching ways to kill your kind for decades. Centuries, maybe. Devlin, war is the last thing you want. Believe me.”
    He looked away, clearly offended by her arguments. “We can move faster than their eyes can detect. We can control their minds, make them do our bidding–”
    “Only the weakest willed humans can be controlled that way. And you’d better believe DPI is training its personnel to resist it.”
    “Fledging vampires can only control the weakest of minds. An old one like me can do much better.”
    She looked up at him, at his thick, corded neck, and wide, strong jaw. He was dark skinned, for a vampire, and she wondered about his ethnicity, not for the first time.
    “My human ancestry is a blend of Samoan, Native American, and African,” he said softly. “Why do you want to know?”
    “Because I like the way you look. Your skin is so beautiful it makes me want to touch it every time I’m near you.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened.
    He smiled at her, the first real smile she’d seen. “See? It’s not just the weak-minded who can be controlled.”
    Her jaw dropped, but she snapped it shut again. “That wasn’t fair.”
    “I find you very beautiful as well, Emma.”
    She lowered her head, angry. But he put his forefinger under her chin and raised it up again. “Your skin, like porcelain, and those wild ribbons of angel’s hair. Plump red lips and eyes like pools of melted chocolate.”
    She felt herself warming inside and wondered if he was still messing with her head.
    “You’re one of very few human beings I can’t quite manage to detest,” he told her. “And you have been ever since I first found you, nearly drowned in your parents’ swimming pool.”
    “It was my grandparents’ pool. And thanks for saving me. Every time. Thanks. I mean it. I owe you one.”
    “Four, and counting.” He smiled a little.
    My God, he’d made a joke. She smiled back, feeling a little lightheaded. “How old are you?” she asked.
    “I am a hundred and fifty-seven years