Prologue

"Mark!" She awoke screaming her twin brother’s name.

She turned on her bedside lamp with hands that shook. Her gaze flew frantically around her bedroom, and her heart seemed to stop.

She didn’t see her furniture. She didn’t see the antique cherry dresser or chest. She didn’t see the stacks of books that lined her shelves, shelves lovingly made by her grandfather’s hands.

She just saw the blood.

And it was everywhere.

And she felt the evil. The overwhelming evil.

She closed her eyes, desperate to stop the vision.

A man’s terror-filled scream echoed in her mind.

"No!" She shoved her covers aside and jumped from the bed.

In a flash, the vision ended.

She could see her room again. Cloaked in shadows, but recognizable nonetheless.

Her heartbeat pounded desperately in her ears. Her body shook with remembered fear.

Had it been a dream? Just a dream?

She shook her head. It couldn’t have been a dream. It’d felt…too real.

She had a sudden desperate urge to call Mark. To hear his voice.

She reached for the phone.

A shrill ring froze her hand.

Her heart stopped.

The phone rang again, its cry eerily like the scream from her dream.

Her fingers shook as she lifted the receiver. "H-hello?"

As she listened to the caller, all of the blood drained from her face. Her body swayed and the phone dropped from her nerveless fingers.

Strange icy prickles shot across her skin. Lights flashed before her eyes.

Her body fell to the floor.

And she stumbled back into the dreams of a dead man.

One

Savannah Daniels gathered her strength and pulled herself over the high granite wall. She slipped over its edge and fell to the ground, landing with a soft thud. Blood covered her body and her torn clothes.

It was a miracle that she’d made it up the mountain.

Her small rental car had died on her hours ago. Halfway up the treacherous mountain road, it had sputtered once and then stopped. Steam had burst from beneath the Toyota’s hood. No amount of begging, pleading or cursing had been able to start the engine again.

She’d gotten out of the car, and she’d done the only thing that she could. She’d walked. For miles, she’d walked along the graveled road. Walked until her feet ached, until blisters grew on her heels and toes.

She’d kept walking, long after the graveled road had ended. She’d climbed under the barbed wire fence, ripping her clothes and the skin of her arms and back.

The stone wall had been her last hurdle. The last obstacle in her path.

She could see the house now, its imposing stone structure standing stark and strong against the mountain.

Thin streams of light shone from its high, Gothic windows. The light seemed to beckon her, promising her safety from the dark night, if only she would come inside.

For a moment, the howling of the wind quieted, and Savannah stared in silence at what lay before her.

She knew what she would find inside the walls of that house.

A monster.

A man.

A demon.

A savior.

For the past six months, she’d researched him carefully. She’d learned every detail that she could about William Dark. Every horrifying detail.

Sometimes, she woke screaming in the night, his name upon her lips.

But the nightmares did not matter.

She needed William Dark. She needed the monster. She needed the man. And she would have him.

She approached the house slowly, almost timidly. Her tennis shoes crunched over the wet gravel. It had rained earlier in the day, and the air still smelled of the shower.

There was no sound in the courtyard. No birds chirping. No dogs barking. Not even the howl of the wind intruded on this quiet space.

She was the only intruder. Her stomach clenched, and she swallowed several times to relieve the tightness in her throat. Her heart pounded furiously. She wondered if he could hear the desperate beating.

From their perch high atop the house, two hideous gargoyles glared down at her, warning her away from their master. Savannah lifted her bruised chin in silent challenge. She had not let her friends dissuade her from her journey. She certainly would not be frightened off by two statues! Even if they did seem to stare down at her, their glittering eyes following her every move.

Finally, she stood before a tall, wooden door. A cross had been crudely etched into its surface. She stared at the spiritual sign, wondering at its presence. At its meaning in this place of darkness.

It didn’t belong there.

Neither did she.

But she wasn’t going to leave. Not until she’d gotten what she needed.

She took a deep breath.

The door opened before she could even lift her hand to knock against its hard surface. He opened the door. For a moment, she could only stare up at him in stunned surprise. Even in the night’s shadow, she could tell that it was he.

He towered over her slender form. He was tall, easily over six feet, and his broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorframe. His long midnight hair was pulled back and clasped at the base of his neck. His eyes, a burning coal- black, seemed to glow as they stared piercingly into her own.

She’d seen a sketch of him before, of course. She’d known what he looked like. But seeing him up close was an entirely different matter.

She hadn’t realized just how high and strong his cheekbones were, or how sensual his lips would be. His nose was perfectly straight, if a little sharp. His brow was high and elegant. He was an attractive man, even with the thin scar that sliced down his left cheek.

She knew how he had gotten that scar.

She knew everything about the man before her.

He was dressed in black, the color accentuating his tawny skin and making him look almost…sinister.

He stood within the shadows, watching her.

Finally, he spoke. "You are not welcome here." His voice was a purr, a seductive contrast to the harsh words. A slight English accent marked his formal words.

Savannah was not surprised by his abruptness. After all, it was the greeting that she’d expected. In a quick rush, she said, "I must speak with you, Mr. Dark." Her voice shook with intensity. He had to let her inside the house. He had to!

His head lifted slightly. Did curiosity flicker faintly in the depths of his black eyes? Savannah couldn’t tell, not for certain.

"Must you?" he queried. His voice seemed to wrap around her, to sink into her.

She shook her head, clearing the sudden fog from her mind. "Let me come inside," Savannah entreated, trying in vain to stare around his shadowed body and glimpse the interior of the manor. "We have to talk. It’s urgent."

He shook his head and stepped forward into a thin beam of light. "You are not welcome here," he repeated.

Savannah gathered her courage and stared at the man before her. "Please let me come inside. It’s a matter of life or death."

A single black brow lifted. His gaze slowly traveled from the top of her head to the bottom of her sodden shoes. "You are a very stubborn woman, Ms.—"

"Daniels," She supplied in a rush. "My name is Savannah Daniels."

He nodded, as if he had already known her name. "You may come inside, but only for a moment." He stepped back, opening the entranceway to his home.

She exhaled heavily. Sudden relief made her tired body tremble. He was letting her inside! Now, if only she could convince him to help her.

Her body brushed against his as she slipped into the house. Her shoulder casually touched his chest. For a moment, his black eyes flared red.

She hurriedly moved away and into the foyer. William lifted his arm and indicated an open door to the right. She nodded and stepped into the room.

A warm fire crackled in the fireplace. She immediately walked to it and lifted her hands, eager to feel the warmth. She was so cold. Had been cold, for so long. Ever since that night…

William continued to watch her, his stare hard and unflinching.

Savannah wondered what he saw when he looked at her. She glanced nervously down at herself. She knew she looked horrible. Her clothes and hair were a complete mess.

But even on a good day, she’d never considered herself to be a great beauty. Her hair was too curly, the color too red. True, it was thick and cut to fall lightly against her shoulders, but she’d always hated the bright color.

Her body was small and slender. In her heels, she stood at five foot five. She’d lost a lot of weight in the last year, so now she looked particularly delicate. Almost frail.

She exhaled heavily.

There was nothing she could do about her appearance. Besides, that didn’t matter.

Her hands clenched into small fists, and she turned resolutely from the fire.

"I need your help." The words echoed in the great room.

William lounged in a large, cushioned chair. "My help? What is it exactly that you need me to do, Ms. Daniels?"

She swallowed and moved to take the chair opposite him. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. She cleared her throat and looked deeply into the darkness of his eyes. "I need you to kill someone," she said simply, clearly.

He blinked. Once. Twice. "Excuse me?"

Savannah licked her lips. His eyes followed the nervous movement. "I need you to kill someone," she repeated, her gaze locked with his.

William laughed. He threw back his dark head and roared. His shoulders shook with mirth. Still smiling, he turned in his chair to study the young woman before him.

In truth, she was all flaming hair and eyes. She rather reminded him of a fairy. A small, lost little fairy.

It was a pity that she’d wandered into his realm.

Her face was a delicate oval. Her skin was incredibly translucent. Her nose was small, and her lips were temptingly full. Yet, it was her eyes that caught and held his attention. They were the greenest eyes that he had ever seen. Dark, deep, emerald eyes. Her rioting red curls contrasted richly with her eyes, giving her a strangely fey quality.

His gaze traveled down her body. Her breasts were small, gentle mounds that thrust proudly against her gray sweatshirt. Her nipples were pebbled slightly from the cold. Her hips were small, almost boyish, and her slender legs were encased in a pair of faded blue jeans.

The faint scent of blood clung to her body. The scent called softly to him, tempted him.

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. One of his hands lifted to rub against the hard line of his jaw. What sort of game was the little fairy playing? Surely she did not think to tangle with one such as he…

"What makes you think I would kill someone?" he drawled, his voice soft. He watched her carefully, noting the slight tremor in her hands.

Her green eyes narrowed. "I know about you," she whispered, her fingers curling into the chair’s armrest.

His body stilled. "What is it that you think you know?" The amusement of moments before was gone. Ice coated his words.

"I know your secret, Mr. Dark." Her voice was a hushed thread of sound.

William felt a sudden tension stretch through his body. He studied the fairy very carefully. He considered reaching into the depths of her mind, but he discarded the notion almost immediately. He wanted to see what truths she would reveal on her own. Or what lies.

"I know who you are." She paused, and then said softly, "Or rather, I know what you are." Her full lips curled tentatively. "You might say that I’m something of an expert on you."

His own lips curved just slightly, though he knew that no trace of warmth filled his smile. "An expert? On me?" Rage filled him, but with an effort, he managed to keep his voice controlled as he asked, "Why am I so important to you? I assure you, my life is not that exciting."

She leaned forward. "On the contrary, your life is fascinating."

A sudden crash of thunder echoed in the distance.

"I am a man, no more, no less. My life is like any other."

She vehemently shook her head. "You are much more than a man, Mr. Dark, and we both know that." She took a deep breath. "I know what you are," she whispered. "I know."

His jaw clenched. "You know nothing." He stood abruptly. "It’s time that you left."

She jumped from her chair and took a step toward him. "I’m not leaving. I need your help!"

He shook his head once. "I cannot help you, lady. I can’t help anyone."

"I need you." Dark intensity filled her words and her gaze.

William frowned. He rose and walked slowly toward her. His fingers lifted and curled around her delicate chin. He stared down at her, a furrow between his brows. "You don’t even know me."

"I know everything about you."

His head cocked to the side. "And what you know—it makes you think that I would kill someone?"

She swallowed. "Yes."

"You think I’m a killer?" he asked, just to be certain.

"Yes." Savannah’s body tensed as she waited for his reaction.

He smiled. His fingers stroked the delicate line of her jaw. "I think you’re confused. Very, very confused. I’m not a killer. I’m just a man. A man who wants to be left alone." He released her and walked toward the crackling fire.

"You were a man once," she agreed. "But you’re not any longer. You stopped being just a man almost a thousand years ago."

He turned and lunged toward her in a blur of speed. His right hand locked around the slender column of her throat. Her pulse pounded furiously beneath the cool touch of his fingers.

She spoke quickly, knowing she had not a moment to lose. The beast had been roused. "In 1038, you were born William de Montfort. In battle, you earned the name William the Dark. It was said that you earned that name because of your love for the dark arts. It was the evil magic you used then that made you into what you are now."

His fingers eased their tight hold and began to tenderly stroke the sensitive skin of her throat. "And what am I, Ms. Daniels?"

Her lashes lowered slowly and then lifted to meet his burning stare. His blood red stare. "You’re a vampire."

His incisors extended, long and deadly. His eyes, those burning eyes, held her captive. His hand continued to stroke the column of her neck. "And you are a fool."

His head lowered, and she realized with numb shock that he was going to bite her. He was going to take her blood. Eagerly, she tilted her head back, offering herself to him.

His breath was hot against the tender skin of her throat. She waited, desperate to feel the plunge of his teeth as he drank from her. She just hoped that it didn’t hurt too much…

She expected to feel the slashing cut of his teeth against her. Instead, she felt the rough velvet of his tongue as he licked her throbbing pulse. Slowly. Once. Twice. Her breathing hitched, and she heard herself moan.

His teeth scraped lightly against her skin. His tongue licked.

His scent surrounded her. Strong. Dark. The scent of the night.

You want this, don’t you, little one? His voice purred seductively, although his lips did not move. You came here for this, didn’t you? He began to gently suckle on her neck.

"Yes," she whispered, as her arms lifted to clutch his shoulders and pull him closer to her body. Her eyes were tightly closed.

William drew back slowly, wondering about the woman’s motives, about her willingness to surrender to a monster.

Then he remembered what she’d said. "You wanted me to kill someone for you." It was a statement. What he had taken as a jest before suddenly seemed very serious. Who was this woman? And why did she seek the Angel of Death?

"Yes," she whispered again, refusing to open her eyes.

Look at me. The command came unbidden. The full force of his will was behind the order. He would know what the woman in his arms wanted, what dangers she presented to him. Then he would deal with her.

"Who do you want me to kill?"

Her lashes lifted slowly, languorously. Her breathing was ragged. Her chest rose and fell jerkily. "Me. I want you to kill me." Then her hands lifted and she buried them in his hair. She tightened her hold, silently urging his mouth back to her neck. Back to the place where her pulse pounded so frantically.

His eyes widened in shock. He, who had seen countless wars and deaths, was shocked by her statement. By her invitation.

Yet what shocked him more was how much he was tempted. For he desperately wanted to take the little fairy up on her offer. He wanted to take her blood…and her life.

With an effort, he forced himself to step back, to release her from his embrace. He stared at her, wondering why one so young and full of life would possibly want to surrender to the darkness. What demon had driven her to seek him out? "Why?" He asked as he moved back into the shadows of the room. "Why do you seek death?"

Her hands clenched and frustration flashed across her delicate features. "My motives shouldn’t matter to you."

He cocked a dark brow. "They do." He’d never had someone just come to him, without compulsion, and offer blood. Offer life. He’d found that humans valued life too much to want to just give it away to a beast.

Her jaw clenched. "I want you to bite me."

"Yes." He nodded. "But I am not going to do it." He’d learned long ago to control his dark urges. And, even though she had come to him looking for death, he would not give it to her. The tattered remains of his conscience would not let him.

"You should leave now." He motioned toward the door.

She shook her head, sending her dark red curls flying. "I’m not leaving. I didn’t come all this way just to have you refuse me." Her face seemed unnaturally pale in the flickering firelight. "I can’t let you refuse me. I told you, I need your help."

"And I told you no. Now, it is time for you to leave."

Her chest rose and fell jerkily. "You have to help to me. If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone about you. I’ll go to all the papers, all the news channels—"

He laughed softly, mockingly. "Come now. Do you really think they will believe you?" He shook his dark head. "If you go to them and say that I’m a vampire, they’ll laugh at you." And quite possibly lock her up.

Her chin lifted. "They will believe me if I have proof."

"And what proof do you have?" he scoffed.

She smiled, showing even white teeth. "I have your brother’s diary. Henry’s diary. I translated it."

He tensed. The beast within him snarled in rage. "And where…" He clenched his back teeth and felt his incisors burn and lengthen. "…did you get that little prize?"

"It doesn’t matter, does it?" She walked toward him. "I have his diary, and I’ll show it to everyone that I can. Everyone. Eventually, someone will believe me. Your secret will be out." She stopped a foot away from him. "And, then, Mr. Dark, after hunting prey for a millennium, you’ll be the one who is hunted."

"You really want death, don’t you?" he asked, wonder in his voice.

"Death is just a means to an end," she replied, the expression in her eyes secretive.

He grabbed her shoulders roughly. "I don’t like blackmail," he growled. He was so close to her that he could hear her heartbeat, that he could feel its desperate rhythm shaking through her body. And he could almost taste her.

"Neither do I." Genuine regret seemed to lace her words. "But I don’t have a choice."

"Yes, you do. Leave now."

"No."

He looked deeply into her emerald gaze and saw both determination and fear. He tried to play on the fear. "If I do as you ask, you will feel pain like you can’t imagine. Fear like you’ve never known. I will drain all of the blood from your beautiful body. I will drink from you until there is nothing left." He touched her cheek gently. "And then I will throw away your rotting corpse." His smile was chilling.

"I’ve felt fear before." Her words were calm, but her lips trembled. "I’ve felt pain. More pain that even you can imagine."

He was surprised by the anger that swept through him. The idea that someone, somewhere, had hurt this strange woman filled him with rage. A rage that had no reason. His fingers clenched around her shoulders. "Who hurt—"

She jerked back, away from him. "It doesn’t matter right now."

It mattered. For some unknown reason, it mattered very much to him.

"Are you going to help me?" She asked again.

"You mean, am I going to kill you?" In truth, he found that he hungered for the taste of her blood. For her.

She took a deep breath. "Look, we’re wasting time. I know how it works. I told you, I’ve done my research."

"Ah, yes…your research." His words mocked her.

"I know what has to be done," she said stubbornly, her bright gaze locked on his. "I know that I have to die in order to become…"

"Become what?" He asked as a dark suspicion wrapped its way around him. Surely she couldn’t mean—

"Like you."