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Authors: Crystal-Rain Love
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many loved ones had Rialto loved and lost? And why did she feel jealous over the thought of Rialto possibly having loved other women?
"Anyway, some of the stuff in this journal is accurate, like the lists of names and known hangouts, even if it's outdated. Most of what's in here, though, are just the bitter rantings of an old man who loved his son dearly and refused to see the evil inside him."
"An old man who insisted on blaming the real evil on your kind."
"Yes, and it sickened him that he was intrigued by us. Many are intrigued by us. It's not a crime."
Aria cringed under his gaze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. Unfortunately, what she felt while watching him feed was more than intrigue. It was the same thing that coursed through her blood in those fragments of dreams she remembered. Pure, undiluted lust.
"What's the reality, Rialto? What's it like being a vampire?"
He sighed heavily, seeming to mull over the thought. “We're just like everyone else, only we're harder to kill and we do need to drink blood to live, just not as often as people would assume. Unless of course we want to remain powerful. As I said earlier, there are good and bad in all life forms. That's true for us, too. But the good ones—we try to destroy the bad before they can do any harm.” His eyes closed for a second and Aria saw a slight flinch as his skin pulled taut. She wondered what awful memory he was reliving but didn't dare to ask.
Then he opened his eyes and continued, “Bottom line, we're stronger than you and we're immune to disease. Some may think it's great to live nearly forever but it's a lonely existence and I wouldn't change over anyone."
"Change over?” Aria couldn't hold back the awe that escaped into her voice but immediately wished she had when Rialto's hard, burning eyes torched through her. “Not that I want to be changed over. I was just curious. I mean, can anyone be turned? How exactly does it work?"
"None of your damn business.” Rialto rose abruptly and moved across the room, stopping in front of a piece of artwork hanging on the wall. He pretended to study it, but the effort was a thin disguise. He was avoiding her curiosity, clear and simple.
Aria wrung her hands, unsure what she'd done to offend him. Had she even offended him or was something else wrong? She wished she could see his face. Maybe it held a clue as to what was going through his mind, but he kept his back to her.
Turning her head to gaze out the window, she was instantly filled with alarm. The first pale golden hues were rising in the sky, indicating the coming of dawn, and there was a vampire standing in her living room.
"The sun is starting to come up,” she said, an edge of panic in her voice. “Shouldn't you be locked in a coffin or secured in a dark cave by now?"
His back shook with laughter. “You have been watching way too many movies,” he said, turning to face her. She took in the laugh lines splayed around his eyes and wondered how old he'd been when he'd been turned. Late twenties to early thirties, she assumed. “Ironically,” he said, his mouth twisting into a grin, “I did hide in a cave just a few days ago as I entered Maryland, but only because I could sense you so strongly and my stubbornness wouldn't allow me to take time to rent a room. I don't need a coffin, Aria. A dark room will suffice."
"But I thought the slightest bit of daylight—"
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “Only direct rays from the sun can harm us, not daylight itself, and I'm old enough that I've built up some immunity. I can't tolerate it for long, but I won't instantly burst into flame."
"But you'll still burn before you can get back to where you're staying?"
"Yes."
Aria bit her lip, her gut instincts warring with common sense. He was a vampire, a strong, incredibly fast predator who drank human blood and had nearly lost control with her once. Yet he was also a protector, a man who'd saved her from two street punks and
"Anyway, some of the stuff in this journal is accurate, like the lists of names and known hangouts, even if it's outdated. Most of what's in here, though, are just the bitter rantings of an old man who loved his son dearly and refused to see the evil inside him."
"An old man who insisted on blaming the real evil on your kind."
"Yes, and it sickened him that he was intrigued by us. Many are intrigued by us. It's not a crime."
Aria cringed under his gaze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. Unfortunately, what she felt while watching him feed was more than intrigue. It was the same thing that coursed through her blood in those fragments of dreams she remembered. Pure, undiluted lust.
"What's the reality, Rialto? What's it like being a vampire?"
He sighed heavily, seeming to mull over the thought. “We're just like everyone else, only we're harder to kill and we do need to drink blood to live, just not as often as people would assume. Unless of course we want to remain powerful. As I said earlier, there are good and bad in all life forms. That's true for us, too. But the good ones—we try to destroy the bad before they can do any harm.” His eyes closed for a second and Aria saw a slight flinch as his skin pulled taut. She wondered what awful memory he was reliving but didn't dare to ask.
Then he opened his eyes and continued, “Bottom line, we're stronger than you and we're immune to disease. Some may think it's great to live nearly forever but it's a lonely existence and I wouldn't change over anyone."
"Change over?” Aria couldn't hold back the awe that escaped into her voice but immediately wished she had when Rialto's hard, burning eyes torched through her. “Not that I want to be changed over. I was just curious. I mean, can anyone be turned? How exactly does it work?"
"None of your damn business.” Rialto rose abruptly and moved across the room, stopping in front of a piece of artwork hanging on the wall. He pretended to study it, but the effort was a thin disguise. He was avoiding her curiosity, clear and simple.
Aria wrung her hands, unsure what she'd done to offend him. Had she even offended him or was something else wrong? She wished she could see his face. Maybe it held a clue as to what was going through his mind, but he kept his back to her.
Turning her head to gaze out the window, she was instantly filled with alarm. The first pale golden hues were rising in the sky, indicating the coming of dawn, and there was a vampire standing in her living room.
"The sun is starting to come up,” she said, an edge of panic in her voice. “Shouldn't you be locked in a coffin or secured in a dark cave by now?"
His back shook with laughter. “You have been watching way too many movies,” he said, turning to face her. She took in the laugh lines splayed around his eyes and wondered how old he'd been when he'd been turned. Late twenties to early thirties, she assumed. “Ironically,” he said, his mouth twisting into a grin, “I did hide in a cave just a few days ago as I entered Maryland, but only because I could sense you so strongly and my stubbornness wouldn't allow me to take time to rent a room. I don't need a coffin, Aria. A dark room will suffice."
"But I thought the slightest bit of daylight—"
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “Only direct rays from the sun can harm us, not daylight itself, and I'm old enough that I've built up some immunity. I can't tolerate it for long, but I won't instantly burst into flame."
"But you'll still burn before you can get back to where you're staying?"
"Yes."
Aria bit her lip, her gut instincts warring with common sense. He was a vampire, a strong, incredibly fast predator who drank human blood and had nearly lost control with her once. Yet he was also a protector, a man who'd saved her from two street punks and
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