Free Twilight Dreams by Amanda Ashley Page A

begin to imagine it. It was one thing to lick your own blood from a paper cut, another entirely to drink it—drink it!—from a stranger. How much had he taken? A tablespoon? A cup? A pint? She shuddered. More?
    She lifted a hand to her neck. When had he bitten her? And why couldn’t she remember? It seemed impossible that she could forget something so horrendous.
    She added that to the list of things she didn’t want to think about, afraid she might go a little crazy if she let herself dwell on it.
    What was it like for Micah from day to day—or rather, night to night? Did he miss the warmth of the sun on his face? Vampires were supposed to live for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. What did they do for excitement when they had seen everything, done everything? Did they ever get tired of existing on a warm, liquid diet?
    She frowned. Micah had eaten lobster and rice when they went out to dinner together. How was that possible?
    Had he wanted to be a vampire? Had it happened the way it did in movies? Vamp drinks from human. Human drinks from vamp, and voila! A new vampire is created.
    She pressed a hand to her forehead. Just thinking about it gave her a headache.
    Stretching out on the sofa, she tried to force all thoughts of vampires from her mind, but, of course, that was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she envisioned Micah bending over some poor, unfortunate soul, or worse, sinking his fangs into her own throat.
    She tossed and turned for hours until, at last, she tumbled into a restless sleep.
    * * *
    The sun shining through the front window roused Holly. Remembering her decision to leave here while Micah slept, Holly bolted upright. Rising, she straightened her clothes as best she could, grabbed an apple from the ice chest in the kitchen, and ran out of the house.
    Walking briskly, she left the house on the hill behind. Last night, it had seemed as if the other houses were miles away, but as she neared the residences now, she realized they were much closer than she’d thought.
    Micah had told her Morgan Creek was a ghost town. It certainly felt that way, even though the homes she passed looked well-tended.
    More buildings loomed ahead. Drawing closer, she saw a grocery store, a library, a restaurant. All closed up tight.
    Farther down the street, she noticed a movie theater and a gas station. What had happened to the people who lived here? Had Micah and Saintcrow killed them all and taken over the town? Maybe there really were ghosts here. That would explain the sudden chill that swept over her as she hurried down the deserted street.
    Her steps quickened when she saw the bridge up ahead and the road beyond. With any luck at all, she would find a ride into the nearest town and be home by tomorrow.

Chapter Nine
    Grumbling under his breath, Saintcrow rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, a hooded jacket, and sunglasses, and left the house. A thought took him into the town proper. Eyes narrowed against the light and heat of the sun, he spotted Micah’s woman running toward the far end of the bridge, frantically waving her arms in hopes of flagging down a passing car.
    He didn’t waste time trying to reason with her—simply wrapped his arms around her and willed the two of them into Blair House.
    As soon as he released her, she ran for the front door, a cry of dismay erupting from her throat when the door refused to open. Like a doe trapped by a mountain lion, she whirled around to stare at him, her heart pounding like a trip hammer, her eyes wide with fright.
    â€œWhere the hell did you think you were going?” Saintcrow removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his jacket pocket.
    â€œHome.”
    â€œDidn’t Ravenwood tell you that was a bad idea?”
    She nodded. She was visibly trembling now, her face pale.
    Saintcrow blew out a breath, annoyed by her fear. Not that he could blame her. He was a very old vampire. Even humans who didn’t