Beneath the half-light of the moon, Sara pressed herself closer to him and looked up, her stunning blue eyes curious, no longer wary. “It may be dark out, but I know this isn’t SoHo.”
As he gazed down at her, Alexander felt an ache run through him, from chest to groin. He wanted to stand on the icy path beside the tall beach grass and remain attached to her. He wanted her mouth against his, wanted to know what she tasted like. He could almost imagine it. She was a beautiful woman, yes, but it was her strength, her drive to be fearless in the face of something impossible and inhuman that made him crave her—made him want to crawl up inside of her and remain for days. It was a sensation he’d never experienced and it concerned him.
“Are we still in New York at least?” she asked, her eyes demanding the truth, yet promising to accept whatever the response was.
“We’re in Montauk,” he said.
“Long Island?” Her brows knit together. “Why?”
He reached up and touched her hair, her jaw. “A quick detour.”
“For what?”
He wanted to drop his head, have just one taste of her, the drug that might grant him a few minutes of calm to do what needed to be done this night.
“Listen, Alexander,” she said with a hint of frustration. “I’m here with you because I saw the logic in what you said back in my apartment, and because my number-one priority is survival. I’m admittedly scared of Tom, and I think you can keep him away from me. I’m not here because you’re forcing me or holding me captive. I’m here because I trust you.” She lifted one dark eyebrow. “I deserve the same.”
Yes, she was fearless. No one but his brothers made demands on him. “How did you acquire such an attitude?”
“What attitude?” She tried to look both confused and put out. “I’ve got an attitude?”
He chuckled. “That wasn’t an insult, Sara. You impress me with your candor. Where does it come from?”
“I don’t know. I suppose from surviving on my own for so long.”
“It made you strong.” It wasn’t a question.
“I think so. God, I hope so.”
He shifted his gaze, looked out into the black water beyond the sea grass. “For some it would’ve broken them.”
She laughed softly. “I’ve been broken, a few times, but I had something that kept me focused—someone who kept me going.”
Alexander’s head jerked back to her. “Who is this someone?” he demanded, his gut twisting. “A male?”
She nodded. “A man. Human.”
Jealousy roared through him, the sudden emotion taking him by surprise. He’d never felt possessive over a woman, and this one should be no different. Why was it, then, that he wished more than anything to rip the head from the man she spoke of with such softness and care in her tone?
Reaching between them, Alexander took her hand and led her toward the very gates he had run from a hundred years before. For now, she was his and whoever this man was, he had no place in this moment, this time.
“We’re here,” he uttered, his body rigid. It was risky bringing her to this place, he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to keep her close. It was the only answer he had, and if he was forced to fight to keep her safe, he would.
“Here where?” Sara asked, looking from the iron gate before them to the eight-foot-tall and extraordinarily thick shrubbery that ran down both sides as far as the eye could see. “It looks restricted. Private property.”
“It is,” Alexander said.
Sara felt the misery in his tone, the weight of it. She looked up at him, his profile in the light of the moon. Easing pain came naturally to her, but what she saw etched in his features, the raw hatred there concerned her. Not for her own safety, but for the safety of whatever lay behind gate number one.
“Are you all right?” she asked him.
“Perfect,” he said, lifting his wrist to his mouth and baring his fangs.
Sara stared at him, momentarily captivated by his beauty and those pinpointed fangs. Then everything changed. Without a word, he pulled in a breath and struck his wrist, puncturing his vein.
Sara gasped. “Stop! Jesus.”
The blood that ran down his arm was the color of a beet. Sara watched it travel, utterly horrified. “What the hell are you doing?”
He moved closer to the gate and pressed his bloody wrist to one thick steel bar, ran it down the length. “Using my key.”
He pulled his arm away, then displayed the gash to Sara’s worried gaze. “Look now,” he said. “No harm done.”
His explanation did little to shut down the shock and panic running through her, but she watched as the cuts on his wrist sealed.
She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
His eyes flashed. “It pleases me that you care, Sara.”
She frowned up at him. “You could’ve warned me.”
He inclined his head. “I’m sorry.”
There was a loud crack and Sara turned, watched as the gate opened at a snail’s pace.
“Am I safe here?” she asked Alexander.
“You will always be safe with me.” He eased her back against his side and together they entered the compound.
The first thing Sara saw was a snow-covered field that stretched so deep into the distance the moon didn’t catch its ending with her light. Anxiety, brought about by the unfamiliar, knocked around in Sara’s belly and she moved closer to Alexander as he guided them onto one of the dirt paths leading into a quiet wood.
It was a short walk through the cold, pine-scented forest, and when they emerged, Sara saw that they were in a little village. It was small, quiet, and so simplistically perfect looking that it felt as though they’d just walked onto a movie set. Sara was desperate to ask Alexander where they were and how this was possible, but she didn’t speak, felt that if she did the entire thing would vanish.
They continued, taking the path that went straight through the town square. Oil lamps lit the front porches of modestly constructed homes and businesses. People dressed in simple, almost period costume milled about, riding horses or walking in and out of what appeared to be a general store. Sara jumped slightly as one young girl stopped directly in front of them and gave a small squeak of fright as she stared up at the both of them.
“Off you go,” Alexander commanded softly, and the girl instantly turned away and took off down the lane, out of sight.
“What is this?” Sara asked, perplexed and fascinated at the same time. “Some kind of Amish town?”
“Not exactly. It’s called a credenti, a vampire community.”
Vampire community. The two extraordinary words rolled around in Sara’s brain, looking for a safe, real place to land.
“There are credentis all over the world,” Alexander continued, his voice devoid of all emotion now. “This is the one where I began my life.”
Sara looked up at him, curious by this new bit of information. This was his home, where he was born, and yet he looked as though he would rather be anywhere else. Despite her own flirtations with anxiety at the moment, she curled her arm around his waist, offering him whatever support she could. He growled low in his chest and leaned in to her touch.
As they walked, Sara eyed the people around them. They were completely covered from head to foot in homespun clothing. “Why is everyone dressed like that?”
“They remain in their own time,” Alexander said with a bitter edge to his tone. “The Purebloods and Impures that live within these walls and the walls of every other credenti are uninterested in the modern world and her conveniences. Simplicity is how they must live—it is in what they wear, what they see, what they talk about.”
Sounded pretty restrictive to Sara, but she wasn’t the kind of person to knock someone else’s choices. She gestured to men and women walking past them. “There’s fabric wrapped around their throats and wrists.”
“Yes.”
“What’s that all about?”
“All males and females embrace the ancient ways and texts of the Order.”