I Burn For You

He was growing hungry for the night.

Despite modern advances that made dwelling in daylight both possible and enjoyable, Alexander Reynard felt the longing to return to darkness stalking him. Especially right now, when driving through the heavy morning traffic in bright sunlight gave him a blistering headache, despite his tinted windshield and dark sunglasses. He used to enjoy the gift of being able to greet the dawn and all the bright hours after, but lately, light hurt. And he feared he was reverting.

Alec had forced himself to sleep last night through stubborn tenacity, to prove that he could still do it. He would not let nature conquer will. He had slept, and that may have been a mistake. For in his dreams, a woman came into his bed.

She had floated into his senses on a fragrant mist. Her skin had been warm and wet, her flesh firm and slick as satin. He'd woken up hot and hard in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets. There'd been blood on his lips and molten hunger in his veins.

Head back, he'd howled his need into the dark. Though it had been a dream, the woman was real; he was certain of that. All he had to do was find her. Claim her. It had taken all his will not to run out into the embracing night and start the search then and there.

He didn't want this now. This was not a good time or place for the beginning of a quest.

Head pounding from the sun, Alec found a place to park on Hill Street near the huge Central Market. It was at least a three-block walk through bright sunlight to his destination; if he cut through the market, he could get out of the sun for a while.


Domini Lancer woke from disorienting dreams of angels, peaches, and making love. Once awake, a powerful craving for peaches remained. She even smelled peaches while she took a long, hot shower to try to wipe the dream from her mind. But she couldn't forget it, or the strong urge to buy some peaches on the way to work. She'd tried to ignore the ridiculous urge, yet here she was at the Center Market, right where her premonition had demanded she be. This absolute need to follow a dream had never happened to her before, and she was a little scared. Scared that maybe she was going crazy. More scared of whatever was about to happen. And even worse, scared that nothing was going to happen. She'd never had such a powerful premonition before, so if this turned out to be the usual petty crap her visions pulled on her, instead of something momentous, she was really going to be pissed off.

As was her boss, whom she'd called to say she'd be late.

Old Man Lancer didn't make any allowances for Domini being his granddaughter. His deep, whiskey-growly voice had been annoyed when he said, "Fine," and hung up the phone. Though he'd always comforted her when she had dreams that came true as a kid, as an adult he didn't cut her any slack, and she didn't bring up the subject of being psychic anymore. Maybe because both of them wished she wasn't.

Domini heard music, and turned around. Melissa Etheridge's "Angels Would Fall" was coming from a radio at a fruit vendor's stand -- where a pyramid of peaches was piled high at the front of the stand, gold as the morning sun, almost shining with their own light in the dim market. She couldn't help but take a step closer. The music swelled around her, bright, lively, and full of aching secret passion.

Swaying to the sound, Domini picked up the peach at the very top of the pile. Its velvet fuzz brushed sensuously across her palm, more tempting than Eve's apple. She felt as if one bite of it might send her into a Sleeping Beauty trance -- or make her fall in love.