Free Everlasting Kiss by Amanda Ashley Page A

her. Better to go down fighting back than just sit there like some sacrificial lamb and wait for him to drain her dry.
    She glanced around the room. She needed a weapon, she thought. Something. Anything. But there was nothing to be found in the parlor. She searched the rest of the house, giving vent to her rising frustration as she moved from room to room.
    Returning to the living room, she tried the front door again, then perched on the edge of the sofa, her foot tapping impatiently as she tried to think of a way out. She didn’t know how much longer the vampire would be gone, but after what she had done, she didn’t want to be there when he returned.
     
    Erik moved quickly through the shadows. He preyed upon the first human he found, took what he needed, and moved on. Deciding to keep the girl had been one of the stupidest decisions he had ever made. Thinking about it now, he wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do such an idiotic thing. He couldn’t keep her indefinitely. And now that she knew where he lived, he would have to move on. He hadn’t lived as long as he had by being careless, or by trusting others. Until now, no one, save Rhys, knew the location of his lair.
    Erik cursed softly. He had three choices. He could wipe his memory from Daisy’s mind, though that might be difficult now that they had exchanged blood. He could kill her. Or he could let her go, pack up his few possessions, and search out a new lair. To his chagrin, he wasn’t inclined to do any of them. His lair suited him. He had no desire to take Daisy’s life, and, somewhat surprisingly, he didn’t want her to forget him. One thing for certain, he knew he would never forget her.
    Eager to see her again, curious to see if he could coax her into his bed, he quickly returned home.
    A wave of his hand opened the front door. As he crossed the threshold, his eagerness to see Daisy was dampened by the sight that met his eyes. His living room, sparsely furnished to be sure, was a shambles. The carpet was splattered with tomato sauce, melted cheese, pepperoni, and lettuce, as well as a dark stain that turned out to be Coke. A Tiffany lamp lay in pieces. Sofa pillows were strewn across the floor.
    Daisy O’Donnell sat on a chair in the middle of the living room, her arms folded over her chest, a defiant expression on her face.
    Wordlessly, he moved past her. A quick inspection of the downstairs showed that Hurricane Daisy had blown through every room. The kitchen had escaped her wrath, but then, there was nothing in the drawers or cupboards for her to savage.
    Tamping down his temper, he went upstairs and looked in the master bedroom. His bedding was piled on the floor; the pillows, too. She had emptied his dresser drawers and added the contents to the pile on the floor, along with his shoes and the clothes from his closet.
    She had emptied the medicine cabinet and poured his specially blended, one-hundred-dollar-a-bottle of cologne down the sink. His comb and his toothbrush were in the toilet; she had written I hate you on the sink top with toothpaste, and vampires suck on the mirror.
    She had trashed the other bedrooms as well, although the damage was minimal.
    He was reluctant to open the door to his studio. He frowned as his gaze swept the room. He took a quick look in the other rooms, then took a deep breath in hopes of quieting his anger.
    He let it out in a long, slow sigh, and then returned to the living room. Standing in front of the fireplace, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you feel better now that you’ve destroyed my home?”
    “Yes, thank you,” she said, even though it was a lie. Trashing his house had been a stupid, childish display of temper, although she had to admit it had made her feel better at the time. Now she just felt guilty, and ashamed.
    He took a place in front of her chair, his arms folded across his chest. “You do realize that I can compel you to do whatever I want?”
    A shadow of what might have been