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A knock at the back door stalled any answer she might have been able to dream up.
“Keep her here—I’ll get it,” Cody said.
“Well?” Cole asked as Cody walked to the door.
“Well, what?”
“Why didn’t you contact us?” he asked. “Why did you chance going into that prison alone? How did you get into that prison alone?”
“I think Cody can answer that for you.”
“I think you should answer the question for me, right now.”
But before she could pretend to answer, she was suddenly swung about and pulled hard against his chest; he had a large, long-fingered hand clamped over her mouth.
She heard Martha Graybow speaking. “Cody, is everything all right? I saw you all come in, and then I noticed that you still have lights on. It’s so late, and you fellows never came for your supper, so I was worried.”
Martha. She should call out to Martha, and Martha could vouch for her. But then again, what good would that do? None—it could only do harm! Brendan Vincent was a diehard—if he knew that she knew Martha, he might decide that Martha was a Southern spy!
She held still and waited, tempted to bite Cole Granger’s hand.
She somehow refrained.
If she were to bite him…
“Everything is fine, Martha, thank you. We did have a late night—you heard about the trouble at the prison. Well, it’s all over now and we’re just sitting with a bit of whiskey and winding down,” Cody said.
“Oh, thank goodness. I do worry about you boys.”
Martha, beautiful, sweet Martha. She hadn’t wanted her husband to go off. She had known she would become a widow.
“Boys?” Cody said with a laugh. “I’ll have to tell Brendan. He’d appreciate that.”
“You young men!” Martha corrected.
“Thank you for your concern. We’re fine. And we won’t forget breakfast, Martha, I promise you.”
The door closed. Megan gave a good hard kick backward, getting Cole Granger in the shin. He tensed but didn’t let go.
“I don’t think I like your sister much, Cody,” he said, easing his hold then and pressing her firmly away.
She turned and stared at him, it was becoming increasingly difficult to remain calm in the face of this irritating man. “You don’t know how lucky you are that I’m a temperate and reasonable woman,” she said pleasantly.
“Oh, you can get worse than this?” Cole inquired.
Patience…
But her temper had flared. She drew back her lips and let out a hissing sound, displaying the fangs she could summon within seconds. She felt they were really quite beautiful…not that that was the effect she was going for here.
“Holy, Jesus!” Brendan Vincent cried, jumping back.
Cole Granger held his ground.
“Don’t make a move!” Cody warned.
She smiled sweetly, retracting her fangs. “If I’d wanted to hurt anyone here, Cody Fox, I could have bitten off the ever-so-charming Sheriff Granger’s fingers just moments ago. Don’t you get it? What is the matter with you? Why don’t you believe me? I’m your sister—your half sister, your father’s daughter!” she said, praying again for patience and control.
Brendan Vincent stared at Cody. “She could be any bloodsucking monster out there,” he cautioned. “She could have found out things about you. God knows—there is a war going on. She could be here to kill us all in our sleep. I say we stake her right now.”
“Now, now, hold up,” Cole said, arms crossed over his chest as he walked around her. “She did fight with us at the prison. And look close. She and Cody have the same eyes.”
“I’m not getting that close,” Brendan said.
Cole smiled at that. “She could have killed us a few times already, if that had been her intent. Well, maybe she couldn’t have killed Cody.”
“Well, maybe you should have just staked her at the prison,” Brendan muttered.
Cody had moved closer. Megan stood very still, watching him as he resurveyed her, head to toe. Admittedly, she wasn’t particularly well dressed. One didn’t pick one’s finest ball gown for a romp with ravenous killing machines in a prison yard. She wore a simple tailored blouse, vest, form-hugging, knee-length jacket, men’s breeches and boots.
But he wasn’t looking at her attire, she knew.
His gaze rose at last so that his eyes met hers. Fire and ice. They were the same hazel and green color of his own, a color that seemed like gold. She wore it well. Her eyes were fascinating, compelling—mesmerizing. Or so her admirers had told her.
Cody touched her hair, drawing his fingers through it. Suddenly, he smiled. “Let me see those fangs again.”
She flushed, looking at the others. “Cody, it makes your friends uncomfortable.”
“My friends know exactly what I am. They just want you to be the same, and nothing worse.”
She allowed her fangs to show once again.
Yes, she was half vampire. Go figure. Her father seemed to have a steady ability to propagate. It wasn’t like all the things that she’d read about vampires, but then again, who really knew anything about them?
“What else did your mother say about my father?” Cody asked.
“It’s really a long story….”
“A long story, Cody,” Cole Granger spoke up from behind her brother, coming forward. “I personally find long stories wonderfully intriguing.” To her astonishment, he paused, gripped her chin and looked into her mouth—at her receding fangs. He looked at her mouth and studied her teeth and fangs as if he were looking at the quality of a horse he was considering for purchase.
Oh, she was tempted to bite.
Oh, so tempted.
She restrained. He was pushing her. He knew that a bite wouldn’t turn him into an uncontrolled maniac. Nor would a single bite kill him.
He was trying to see if she would snap—if she was capable of control.
She pretended boredom. And strangely, surprisingly, she discovered that she liked something about him….
It was his scent, she realized. He smelled of leather and musky soap, of the night air and of something more subtle and deep and alluring. Horses, whiskey…and himself.
Bathed.
God, she loved the smell of a man who had bathed. These days, it didn’t seem there were many of those. God knew that many a man’s uniform, worn day in and day out as the war dragged on, reeked to high heaven. Well, this fellow wasn’t a soldier. He was a sheriff, in a town, with a house most likely.
“We are always ready to be entertained by a story, and yet I find myself wondering not about any story, but rather what thoughts are prowling through that little mind,” Cole said.
She blinked. There was certainly no chance she intended to have a deep and philosophical discussion with this man.
No matter how delicious he smelled.
She smiled. “I was actually thinking, sir, that you smell quite good.”
Cody burst out with a laugh.
Brendan even grinned. “Good thing you do enjoy lathering away in a tub, Cole.”
She couldn’t help herself. She allowed her smile to deepen. “Good enough to eat,” she said sweetly.
She was surprised when Cody came to her defense, though he spoke too coldly. “Give it up. You’re not going to bite anyone, rip anyone’s throat out or devour their blood. Gentlemen, please do say hello to my sister. Oh, and please do return the use of her jaw back to her.”
“How have you come to that determination?” Brendan asked. Cole hadn’t even looked at Cody. He’d released her jaw, of course, but he was still studying her with those eyes of his, pure blue ice.
She almost flinched when Cody reached out to touch her, lifting a small strand of hair away from her neck. She had a tiny mark there. Not dark, but rather a light, tiny, almost heart-shaped birthmark.
“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.”
CHAPTER THREE
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.
