All Their Midnights by Kate Hill

Author:Kate Hill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action, historical romance, romantic horror, opposites attract
Publisher: Kate Hill

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When I stepped out of my building at dusk, Oliver’s motorcycle was parked at the curb. Neither of us spoke as I slid onto the seat behind him. We glided down the curving city street. The sensation of the bike was still strange, but my fear from the previous night had changed to an exquisite thrill.

We drove until the sight and scent of the city vanished. He stopped beside a secluded stretch of conservation land and guided me through the woods to a sandy clearing shadowed in one corner by a massive, moss-covered boulder.

I leaned against the boulder and studied him coquettishly through my lashes. Though he appeared much the same as he had the night before, the shadows were gone from beneath his eyes, and he exuded raw vampiric strength that I had come to expect from one of our kind. My blood had obviously put his disease into remission, and his newly-exhibited power aroused me, but it also made me wary.

“You’ve been a victim, Rene, first as a mortal and again last night. From this night forth, you will never be a victim again.”

“Easy to say. What do you know about being a victim, anyway?”

He raised an eyebrow, and I glanced at my boots. Anyone with a disease like his knew what it felt like to be a victim.

“I had a family once. They were slaughtered in a battle so long ago that I’m the only one left who remembers it. I could do nothing except watch from where I lay bleeding, waiting to die myself, but I survived and endured, just like you have. I dedicated my life to studying the fighting arts. I’ll teach you everything I’ve learned.”

“Just as long as I keep giving you blood?”

“That’s the deal.”

It seemed a simple trade—until my training began. Days of repetitive leg and arm movements led to sparring matches that left me on my back more often than a hooker. Never had I seen such speed, skill, and strength combined. Oliver’s almost feminine beauty was the perfect disguise for his underlying power. The first time one of my blows breached his expert defenses, I felt genuine pride.

One night after a particularly strenuous session, we lounged by the edge of the river in a field that had become our regular training ground.

Wiping my sweaty forehead on my sleeve, I glared at him, my temper still struggling beneath the façade of calm he’d taught me to keep while fighting. Though I desperately wanted to learn from him, his methods sometimes infuriated me. Too often he’d force me past what I thought were my physical limitations. Since the change, I hadn’t even suspected I still had physical limitations, but even a vampire eventually tired of running, fighting, and grappling. What frustrated me most of all was that he was just as relentless with himself. How could I walk away from physical demands when I watched him, suffering from the disease, training beside me? He took my blood only when the

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