by Jill Myles
Hell no, I wasn’t sure. My feelings for Zane conflicted with my loyalty to Noah, and I didn’t know what I wanted-except that I wanted to climb on top of him and let him take me to the longest, slowest, hardest climax I’d ever had.
“You use me,” I said, sliding my hand down his chest, “and I’ll use you.” His hips fit just right under my own, rubbing against the juncture of my thighs in the most sinful way.
His teeth broke the skin of my wrist, and he was unable to hold back any longer. I felt a soft, gentle pull as he sucked on my skin. Desire flared through me white-hot, and I moaned and rubbed my hips against his harder. His tongue moved against my wrist, and just the barest of sensations drove me wild.
“Zane,” I begged, “I want you.”
No response.
“I need you,” I pleaded.
Still no response.
I pulled my wrist away and leaned in for a fierce kiss …
And a gentle snore came from his lips.
“What the-” I shook Zane slightly, in total disbelief that he’d fall asleep at such a crucial moment. As anger cleared my fog of passion, I realized that sunlight was streaming through the panes.
“Goddamn it! This no-daylight shit is pissing me off.”
I stared at his beautiful face with longing. Something inside him was noble, even if he didn’t like to show it, and that part of him called to me like nothing I’d ever felt before.
I finally hauled myself off him and headed for the bathroom and a cold shower. On the way, I grabbed the breakfast plate.
If I couldn’t have the man, pancakes and bacon was the next best thing-right?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Several long, agonizing hours later, I sat with Remy in the hotel restaurant, clutching my coffee cup in shaking hands. “I don’t know what to do with myself. My whole body aches; it feels like I’ve been beaten with a stick. I’m exhausted, frazzled, and tense, and I know it all has to do with the Itch.”
Shrugging, Remy licked her fingertip and ran it along the empty baklava tray, catching a few crumbs and bringing them to her mouth. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just sex.”
“It’s not just sex,” I protested. The waiter came to refill our water glasses, and I whispered, “It’s the principle of being enslaved to your loins.” The waiter smiled at me, his eyes clearly interested, and my mouth began to water. I forced myself to avert my eyes and gulp the liquid down.
Remy shook her head. “Consider it self-preservation, then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re on a one-way ticket to Hell if you keep this up.” She paused, waiting for the waiter to leave.
He slid a napkin under my water glass, and I noticed he had a room number written on there. Cute. Real cute. He bowed and left.
Remy leaned in. “So tell me, what do you think destroys a succubus?”
My Itch-induced squirming ceased immediately, and I stared at her. “Destroyed? Why are we talking about being destroyed?” This roller coaster of an Afterlife might suck, but that didn’t mean I wanted it to be over.
Remy licked her fingertips languidly. “I’ve seen it happen two different ways. One,” she flicked a finger up, admiring her shell-pink fingernail. “Both of your masters bite it. They go, you go. It’s the rules of the game I’m afraid.”
“Well, I don’t plan on destroying Noah-we’re on this whole sorry trip to save his ass. And since I don’t know who my vamp master is, there’s not much chance in destroying him.”
“Oh, he’s around, if I don’t miss my guess. Vamps wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to have a succubus at their beck and call, trust me. Enough succubus blood, and even they get immunity to our powers-so I’m sure the queen’s itching to get you back in hand.” There was a note of pain in her voice, and she cleared her throat. “Anyhow, the second way for a Suck to die is by starvation.”
“You mean …?”
She nodded, all seriousness. “You’re just hurting yourself with this hold-out, kiddo. If you plan on seeing this abstinence thing through, it’s all downhill from here. Your hair will get dull and fall out, your skin will wrinkle up, and you’ll crack under the pressure. Pretty soon your body’s going to be in intense pain, too, if I don’t miss my guess.”
My throat went dry. “How … how long does that take?”
“A couple of weeks,” Remy said.
A few weeks? I cringed at the thought. I was going stark, raving nuts after being overdue a day and a half. “I’d go mad,” I admitted, hating myself for conceding to the Itch.
“Yeah, that’s usually one of the first things to happen,” Remy agreed cheerfully.
So I was truly trapped in this lifestyle for eternity. I forced my shaking fingers around my coffee cup and tried to breathe like a normal woman. “How long have you gone without?”
“Five days,” Remy said flatly. “Not by choice, and trust me when I say it’s not something you want to go through.”
Numb with misery, I felt unable to focus my brain. “I miss Noah.” I thought of his warm smile and his protectiveness of me. His ass that wouldn’t quit. “I didn’t realize how good I had it with him. So right now basically I’m stuck with Zane, then.”
She snorted at me. “Not hardly, girl. If I were you, I’d avoid the fanged persuasion and find yourself a little piece of Egyptian tail. Like this one.” She pushed the napkin with the phone number toward me. “Or Stan. He’s damn good in the sack, and I’m not the jealous type. You’re welcome to borrow him for a few hours.”
The thought left me slightly nauseous. “I’ll pass, thanks. Where is he anyhow?”
Remy waggled her eyebrows. “He’s catching up on some much-needed rest.”
I raised a hand in the air. “Spare me the details, thanks.”
She lifted her coffee mug with a grin. “The offer’s on the table if you want it, and I’d recommend this afternoon.” Remy sipped, then continued. “But since I’m sure you won’t take me up on it, what do you plan to do this afternoon to kill some time?”
The first real enthusiasm I’d felt for this excursion bubbled over. “My boss at the museum mentioned that the Museum of Antiquities here has one of the best Old Kingdom collections to be found. She suggested that we look here for stuff about Queen Nitocris.” My hands clasped together eagerly. “I can’t wait to go spend the day there among the treasures. I thought I’d head there after I picked up my film.”
Remy looked like I’d suggested going to the dentist. “Riiiight. Boy, that sure sounds like fun.” She checked her watch. “Wow, is it noon already? I-”
I laughed. “Nobody said you have to come with me, Remy. I don’t mind going by myself.”
Relief showed on her face. “Are you sure? With those slavers you were telling me about …”
“That’s why I’ve got this.” I reached into the tote bag at my side and pulled out a new black burqa I’d bribed a bellhop into buying for me. Boobs were sometimes a good thing. “This is the best disguise a girl could ask for.”
Remy raised her coffee mug. “Cheers to that, then.”
I clinked my mug against hers, my smile forced. “So what are you going to do while I’m gone?”
A wicked smile curved her lips. “I think I’ll see if Stan’s awake.”
“We’ll take a quick break before proceeding to the next portion of our tour, the Amarna period and Akhenaten, the heretic king.” The tour guide’s voice was monotone with boredom.
I dog-eared the page on my guidebook and sat on a nearby bench. No one sat next to me. I expected as much; the museum was filled with American and Canadian tourists, all of whom gave me a wide berth at the sight of my burqa.
It was nice to fade back to invisibility, even if just for an afternoon.
While the tourists milled around me, I reached into my purse and pulled out my newly developed photos and began flipping through them.
The images from the tomb were backlit with blackness, courtesy of the cheap
flash camera. I stared at the painted figures in each photo, wondering if I had missed a clue. There were several of what must have been Nitocris, her hands upraised to the heavens. Her face looked just like every other Egyptian queen, but I now recognized her black cloak as a stylized image of wings. The next photo was a larger shot of the queen’s wig-covered head, the Double Crown and Uraeus on her brow. Her thin mouth curved up in a half smile, which creeped me out a little. In the other pictures she was unsmiling and grim. The elongated hands were raised to the sun, and in the center of the sun there was a faded symbol that reminded me of the one on Noah’s wrist. The angelic alphabet-how curious.
“If everyone is ready, we can proceed to the next room,” the tour guide announced.
I slid the eerie smiling photo into my guidebook and quickly pocketed the rest of them, nearly tripping on my long burqa as I rushed to join the group.
The tour guide cleared her throat. “Akhenaten was the most hated pharaoh in all of Egypt. He took the happily polytheistic society and tried to convert everyone to the religion of the one god, the Aten, who was symbolized by the sun.”
The docent launched into a long, droned spiel about Akhenaten’s reign in the New Kingdom. It was amazing how one person could make an interesting subject so damn dull. Restless and bored with her presentation, I flipped through my guidebook, looking for objects of interest. I wanted to get away from the New Kingdom stuff and head to the second floor, where the Old Kingdom artifacts were kept.
I looped around the tour group to the back of the room, browsing through the artifacts. The sun was due to set soon, and I was anxious to get back to the hotel. Just the thought of Zane sleeping in my bed made my breath catch, and I fanned myself with the guidebook. Idly, I paused near a broken, wigless bust and glanced down at the plaquard. Nefertiti. I’d never been a big fan of hers; she looked cold and arrogant in all of the sculptures and paintings I’d seen, and this one was certainly no different. The beautifully sculpted lips were curved at the edges in a thin, almost bitter smile.
I paused. I’d seen that look somewhere before. Crouching low, I circled the glass case and peered at the bust from all angles. Where had I seen that regal, go-to-Hell look before?
“… built a temple to the one god, the Aten,” the docent droned.
Something clicked in my mind.
I whipped out the photo tucked into my guidebook and stared at the picture. On a hunch, I headed to the back of the exhibit, looking for tomb paintings from the Amarna period. Sure enough, there was one along the wall, and I held up the photo next to a picture of the Akhenaten’s queen.
Hands upraised, she appeared to be supplicating, a thick black cloak covering the shoulders of her followers.
Wings.
“Of course,” I muttered to myself, as I made my way out of the crowded museum. “The first church wasn’t a church to God at all, but Nitocris’s worming her way back into Egyptian history.”
This certainly threw a kink into things. I raced out of the building and headed for the nearest taxi, burqa flying.
I needed to talk to Zane.
“It’s Amarna!” I entered into my hotel room with a triumphant smile, a stack of travel brochures clutched in my free hand, burqa tucked under my arm. “I figured it out.”
Zane sat up in my bed and rubbed his face with his good hand, his hair tousled and falling over his forehead. His bad hand looked nearly healed, the skin merely reddened now. He gave me a sleepy look, a hint of red peeping out from heavy-lidded eyes. “Evening, Jackie. You’re in a good mood.”
His voice caused me to come to a screeching halt. My muscles seized up at the sight of him looking so sexy in my bed, and I had difficulty breathing. The air around me became heavy and uncomfortable, and I moved as if in a fog. “Zane,” I breathed, my voice taking on a seductive timbre that caused his eyes to flick bright red with interest.
“Itch bothering you much?” He kept his voice light, though his eyes blazed red, betraying his interest. I could see the gleam of fangs against his lips.
“Not at all,” I lied, slinking over to the bed and staring down at him. Blood pounded in my ears. “I’m not sleeping with you.” My hands trembled from the sheer force of my body’s response to his proximity. It was taking all my effort just to remain upright.
Zane stood and came to my side. He took the brochures from my clenched hand and tossed the burqa into a nearby chair. “You’re torturing yourself over nothing, Jackie. Don’t you realize that?” His hand went to my shoulders and he began to knead the tense flesh at the base of my neck.
Weak at his touch, I sat on the bed, my head rolling forward to allow him free access. “Sex is not ‘nothing’ to me. And I don’t like being forced into doing anything.”
“Don’t do it because you have to, then. Do it because you want to.” His fingers trailed over the sensitive flesh of my neck, and I nearly came unglued at the gentle touch. “I like you; you like me. What’s wrong with sating our mutual urges?”
“Everything. It’s all messed up.”
His hand slid away from my neck. “Do you want me to find you someone to take care of your needs? I guarantee any sane man would be willing.” His voice was solicitous, neutral.
I pulled my legs up and hugged them against my chest, feeling miserable at the desire that raged through my body. “I don’t want a stranger.”
“Noah, then?” His voice was decidedly cold.
I glanced over at Zane in surprise and saw anger in his eyes. He was jealous of Noah? The thought was baffling.
Zane abruptly turned. I watched the sweep of his wings as he walked away, graceful and beautiful, so at odds with my conceptions of vampires. He picked up his trench coat and shrugged it onto his back, covering his wings and heading for the door.
“Wait,” I said, getting up and following him. “What’s wrong with you?”
He opened the door, ignoring me.
I grabbed it and slammed it shut before he could leave. “What’s eating you? I’m the one with the compulsion.”
Zane’s red glare met my blue one. “Do you think I don’t care about your feelings?”
I hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest. He was one of the bad guys, right? “I didn’t …”
“Didn’t what?”
In agony at this point, I just grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “I’m tired of all this crap.” My mouth planted on top of his, and flashes of light sparked in my brain.
Oh yes. This was nice. His mouth moved under mine, tasting my lips, his tongue touching my own.
Then he pulled away from me, prying my hands off him. “No, Jackie.”
“What?” I tried to wrap my hands in his hair.
He shook his head. “I don’t want this.”
I fell back a little, staring up at him in confusion. “Your eyes are red and you kissed me back. How can you say that you don’t want this?”
“I want you willing, Jackie. I don’t want it to just be the product of the Itch. I want you to be with me because you”-he touched my breastbone and gave me a soft smile-“want to be with me. Not because you feel compelled to sate an urge with the closest man around.”
The man was impossible. Frustrated, I clenched my fists. “I don’t know what I feel anymore, okay? None of this is my choosing. Do you think I really want to be stuck in a hotel room in Egypt, hoping that I can steal some halo back from an archaeological site before the Queen of Vampires kills a fallen angel? Because you know, it’s really not high on my list of things to do before I die.”
I jerked away from him and gave him a bitter smile. “Oh, that’s right. I can’t die, can I? I’m stuck like this forever. So pardon me for trying to make a go of things. I sucked at relationships in my normal life. I’m not surprised that they’re not any easier now.”
I collapsed on the edge of the bed, burying my head in my hands. “Oh lord, what is wrong with me?” Tears welled up as I huddled on the edge of the bed, feeling miserable, alone, and stupid.
“Jackie,” he said, and his fingers tilted my face up to meet his. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Fingers stroked gently down my cheek. “For forgetting that you are human, or were not too long ago. This is a lot for you to take in, isn’t it?”
I managed a watery smile. “You have no idea.”
He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. A thrill shot through me at the touch, then I froze as I felt his fangs brush against the soft skin of my lips. “So … uh … can you …?”
Zane gave me a wicked grin full of long, sharp teeth. “We do it better than anybody else, my dear. Shall I show you?”
My muscles would never unknot at this point. “Please.”
His coat slid off his shoulders, and the next thing I knew, dark wings were enfolding me, brushing against my body. “Mind if I undress you?”
“No,” I breathed, unable to move. His hands slid over my shoulders, caressing my skin as if it were fragile. He peeled my T-shirt off and tossed it on the floor, his eyes resting on the swell of my breasts encased in the satin and lace bra.
“So beautiful,” Zane murmured, his hand skimming along my flesh and leaving a trail of fire behind.
“It comes with the job,” I said, my hands sliding to his T-shirt and seeking the hot skin underneath. “I was nothing special before.”
“You have always been special.” Before I could wonder at his words, his mouth preyed upon mine and all coherent thought escaped me.
When his mouth pulled away, I gave a little whimper of distress. Two seconds later I was flat on my back on the bed, and the distress was replaced by the thrill that shot through my body as I looked up to see my lover looming over me, his wings spread as he wrestled out of his T-shirt and tossed it onto the ground. It fluttered to the floor in one long band of fabric, specially cut to accommodate his wings.
