Heather Graham - Night of the Vampires

“I bear the same mark,” he said quietly.

“You do? Really? I never noticed it,” Brendan said, frowning. “But then, I’d not have noticed it on the young lady if you hadn’t pointed it out, and you wear your hair long around your ears, Cody, and—oh, my. Well. If you say you both have the same mark…” he finished lamely.

Cody had pulled his own hair back to prove the point.

Cole walked across the room, taking a seat at the piano bench. He folded his hands prayer fashion, in thought.

“Cole,” Brendan said. “It appears the young lady is telling the truth.”

“Yep.”

Cody turned to look at him. “That’s all?”

“Congratulations. You have a sister,” Cole said. “That really solves nothing at all.”

Cody grinned. “And that means…?”

“It means,” he said with his long, deep drawl, “that we know she’s your sister. Whether or not we can trust her? Well, that remains to be seen.”

COLE DIDN’T SLEEP well during the night. He lay down to rest with a stake in his hands and his bowie knife beneath his pillow.

He knew that Brendan Vincent would be doing the same in his room.

But morning arrived without incident, and when he came downstairs, he discovered that Cody’s newfound sister was in the kitchen with their hostess, Martha, setting out utensils for their breakfast, something Martha Graybow prepared wonderfully. Apparently Cody thought it a good idea to introduce them, lest Megan’s presence in their rooms seem somehow untoward.

He instantly wanted to protect the woman—stand between her and Megan Fox and make sure that the young half-breed vampire wasn’t about to pounce. Martha Graybow was a mature woman, but she had a beautiful, kind face, and Cody had a feeling that she wouldn’t be a widow long, once the war was over.

If there were any men left.

Martha had apparently loaned their surprise guest clothing; that morning, Megan Fox was wearing a demure cotton day dress that displayed the sleekness of her slender, shapely form to perfection. Actually, she’d worn men’s clothing well, too, but, this morning, she appeared as pure, sweet and innocent as a newborn angel. Her hair was quite gold, gold like her eyes.

So much like Cody’s.

And yet so different. So sultry, even when she was looking innocent. Somehow.

You smell good. Good enough to eat .

He found it hard to admit even to himself, but her fangs were equally stunning. He didn’t think he’d ever been able to say that before.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” Martha said, her voice bright, her smile sincere.

“I’m only a sheriff in Texas, ma’am,” he reminded her with a smile of his own. “Cole will do just fine, thank you.”

“Well, then, Cole it is,” Martha said, flushing. “And I’m Martha to my friends. We’ll be dispensing with the ‘Mrs. Graybow,’ when you speak to me, young man, if you please.”

“As you wish, Martha,” Cole said.

He was standing close enough to Megan to hear her mutter beneath her breath. “Charming. Oh, so, charming.”

He ignored her. Ignored her—while keeping a wary eye on her. Last night, Cody had suddenly seemed to embrace the young woman. Of course, Cody was happy. He had just married a beautiful woman, and now he was finding that he had a sister. He’d been alone in the world for years, and now he had a family.

Thing was, though it seemed Megan Fox was his sister, they had grown up far apart. She seemed like a loose cannon—an unknown quality in a world filled with many kinds of dangers.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked Martha.

“Everything is all set to go.” She used a handwoven pot holder to lift the heavy coffeepot from the stove and began to pour the brew into the cups at the table. Cole noted that there were settings for six, and he frowned. Martha always joined them, on the days when her children were off to school, at least, but he didn’t know who the sixth setting was for. Then he heard a commotion out in the drive and hurried out the back door.

Cody was already standing at the edge of the drive that led to the renovated old carriage house. A carriage had just arrived.

“Alex!” Cody cried out with pleasure. He opened the carriage door and held out his arms. His wife leaped into them and Cody spun her around for a minute before drawing her to him in a warm embrace. They kissed, and Cody let her slide down to put her feet on the ground. He went to pay the driver, but the man tipped his hat.

“Taken care of, sir!” the driver said, delivering Alex’s portmanteaus to the walk. “Where would you like these taken?”

“We’ll get them, my good fellow,” Cole said, stepping forward.

“Cole!”

Alex smiled with delight and came to give him an enveloping hug, as well. He’d known Alex long before Cody had. Somehow, strangely, he’d forgotten that Alexandra was due that day. Chalk that one up to vampire-sister.

“So!” she said happily. Her brows knit suddenly as she looked around. “So?” she said again, a question in her eyes.

He turned. Megan Fox was there.

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh. Ah, Alex. That’s Megan Fox. Your sister-in-law,” he said mundanely.

Stunned, Alex stared at the girl, and then at Cody.

“We’ve just met,” Cody said.

“Oh?” Alex inquired politely.

Cole bent slightly to whisper audibly to Alex, “Yes. She’s just like Cody.”

“I think we should go inside,” Cody said.

“Martha’s inside,” Cole said pleasantly, getting Alex’s bags. “But, by all means, let’s.”

He led the way, then carried Alex’s bags upstairs while she hugged the hostess. Alex knew Martha from when she’d lived in D.C., right at the outbreak of the war. She’d been engaged once before, prior to meeting Cody; her fiancé had perished at the first route at Manassas, a battle for which people had actually taken carriages out to the fields to witness the entertainment —until they had seen how bloody and devastating that entertainment would become.

When Cole came back downstairs, Brendan, Cody and Alex were at the table. Martha was still fussing over Alex, and Megan was busy setting large platters of fluffy scrambled eggs, bread and heated dried beef with gravy on the table.

“My journey was fine, and without incident,” Alex was saying as Cole took a seat on the other side of the table. “Long, of course, but you all know how long it can be. My papers were in order, and though we passed through different checkpoints, with soldiers on both sides stopping us for identification, I wasn’t detained at any point.”

“Dear, dear, it’s only going to get worse,” Martha said. “They say that Lee is planning another invasion into the North.”

“He’s the world’s finest general!” Megan said, her adoration for the man evident.

Cole himself admired Lee. Still, he’d never been sure that the general’s determination to invade the North had been a wise choice and he’d been right—the Battle of Gettysburg had been a massive boon to the North and a horror for the South. But he figured the general had been weary of the battles being fought on Southern soil. Every battle cost the people of a region—it devastated the land, and it meant feeding tens of thousands of soldiers with the South’s own stores, which couldn’t last forever.

He noted then that Martha looked at Megan and gave her a knowing nod.

It occurred to him then that their hostess had known their surprise guest even before Cody had brought them together. For the time he’d keep his silence—and a careful watch on both women. There had been as many young women swept up with the war effort as there had been young men, and he knew that loyalties in war could be passionate, sometimes out of control. But his team’s work wasn’t about the known war, and he didn’t want anyone’s loyalties getting in the way of what had to be done.