Kiss Noir (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Robynn Clairday

  Dameon looked sheepish. "Those dreams were an accident. I was thinking about you...and, I'm afraid my emotions and unhappiness strayed into your night visions. I also swore to myself that I would stay away from you. Normally, I exercise much more discipline over myself, but…" He shrugged, self-deprecating. "I seemed to have lost self-control over many things since I've met you."

  "How lucky for me that you did, that you didn't stay out of my life. I wouldn't have missed those dreams for anything. The dreams connected us and brought us closer. Besides, they were the most exciting, most captivating dreams I have ever experienced. Yet,"—she bit her lip—"sometimes, they were saddest."

  Dameon frowned and didn't speak for a moment. Finally, he sighed. "I blame myself, chérie. If only I had exercised a little more self-discipline, I wouldn't have entered your life, and wouldn't have brought all of the ugliness of my world into yours."

  "You can't hold yourself responsible for Tatiana's actions. You had no control over her. Besides, you and she are, like, different species, entirely different. You could never be like her." She paused, looking thoughtful. "I can see now that she was playing mind games with me, causing me to have nightmares and hallucinations. She was so twisted with jealousy over you."

  Rage rose as he realized the extent of Tatiana's malevolence. For a second, he had to fight back the rush of murderous chemicals flooding his system.

  Jen, noticing the expression on his face, quickly changed the subject. "What about the eternal life thing? Is that for real?"

  Dameon closed his eyes briefly and massaged the bridge of his nose wearily. "To fully explain the vampire would take an entire book. Another time, we'll talk more."

  She seemed to take his dismissal calmly as she stared at the wildly dancing flames. He watched her, still shocked and dazed by the fact that she was actually accepting him. The truth hadn't scared her off. Not yet, at least. Their mental connection was clearer than ever and stronger than any spoken language. The two of them were alone in the world, and nothing else existed or mattered.

  Jen frowned and bit her lip. Worry darkened her wide, hazel eyes. “I honestly don't think anyone will take that kid's story seriously. After all, he's a criminal himself," she finished firmly, her jaw set.

  "Who are you trying to convince, yourself or me, chérie? Didn't you say he mentioned the carjacking incident? The Phantom III? My name? Won't that add to his credibility? And, your neighbor, Pam Davis, has met me, we can't forget."

  "It's a feeling I have. I just don't believe the police will take his story seriously." She bent her head, stubbornly determined not to see anything negative, and stroked the contours of the large, red stone. She changed the subject. "What is this stone? It's so beautiful."

  "It's a ruby," he answered softly, reaching up to cup the ring hanging from the end of her chain. The police, he decided, could wait. His finger tips brushed the skin of her throat. Immediately, an electrical current passed between the two of them.

  Her voice quavered as she asked, "Did you want it back?"

  "No, chérie, it's yours. You know you have but to ask and all that I own is yours," he said quietly, matter-of-factly. He was still holding the chain. His fingers released the ring and slowly moved upward to caress the smooth warmth of her jaw line, sliding behind the thick mass of her hair to stroke the delicate curves of her ear, then down to cup her face against his hand. She captured and pressed his hand against her cheek. He could feel the pulse in her wrist beating double-time.

  "And I belong to you, Dameon. You know that," she said, bringing his hand to her lips. "I admit, I don't possess much, but it's all yours, if you want."

  "It's you that I want," he said huskily, eyes naked with hunger.

  She turned and reached her arms out to him, lips parted, eyes dilated. "I'm glad," she said softly. "I hope you never stop wanting me."

  "Never," he echoed as he lifted her and carried her to his lap and pressed her close against his chest. She was feather light, and her sweet, warm scent intoxicated him. Her heart seemed to match the rhythm of his. He caressed the slender length of her body and bent to bury his mouth into her slim throat.

  He could feel the quickening of her breath as his kisses trailed downward. He pressed her closer. They were alike in many ways, more alike than different, he told himself. She was his. She belonged to him, and he to her. Everything felt fragile, urgent. He wouldn't think of that now. He slid his hands under her shirt, savoring the creamy delicacy of her skin, yearning to feel all of her.

  "You're not alone anymore, Dameon," she murmured. Her soft, moist lips were inches from his when he stopped her.

  "Are you sure, chérie? Now that you know all about me?"

  She stopped him, pressing her fingers to his mouth. "I'm absolutely sure," she whispered to him, raining kissing on his face. Her mouth and body wanted him, of that he was sure. "The only thing that matters is you and I are together."

  He first delicately teased, then devoured trembling lips. She tasted like honey, like heaven. He wanted to sample all of her. She murmured his name. He slid his hands through her silken hair, trapping his fingers in her curls. His hands feather-touched her neck and shoulders, and gradually slipped lower. He felt her shudder as he moved his hands beneath the waistband of her pants. She gasped as he stroked her intimately, teasing the incredible softness between her thighs. Her body was hot and silken as she writhed beneath his hands. He ached to submerge her body and soul into his.

  Shaking, she pulled his hand against the thunderous beating of her heart, and spoke straight to his own heart. "I love you and always will. I only want to be with you." Her eyes, liquid and light, met his. "Take me to your room, Dameon."

  He pulled her against him, and their physical boundaries were lost. The world spun and disappeared as a plume of black covered them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When the world came back into focus, Jen was on a huge, circular bed on soft, white satin sheets. She had one glimpse of a room enclosed in white and black drapes, of stark beauty and simplicity, before losing herself into his kisses. The ruby ring fell down against the tender hollow between her breasts, the brilliant red contrasting with the white of her skin. Her rapidly beating heart caused the ring to flutter. He moved the ring aside and replaced it with the satin heat of his kisses. Colors softened and ran into one another and her surroundings blurred. Hungrily, they clung to each other. Her body opened to his, and all else was forgotten.

  * * * *

  The early morning sun pierced the dense, dark clouds. Shafts of pale tangerine light streamed through the fog laden air. Dameon was awake, and dressed. He stood and watched Jen sleep, her face peaceful and smooth. Her eyelashes made dark crescents on her cheeks. He watched the rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheets. He sighed softly. He was happy enough to be frightened. There was still tomorrow to worry about, but for now, he'd savor today.

  Their night had not just been the meeting of bodies, but the intertwining of souls. He closed his eyes and checked his inner stasis. With relief, he realized that he did not need an injection. Biofeedback was a skill he was glad that he'd learned. His room, no matter where he lived, had always been a chamber of loneliness. It would never be the same for him, no matter what. Even if she left him, he would never, ever be able to endure the loneliness again. He made a sudden decision. Why not surprise her with croissants and pastries, breakfast in bed? He knew her sweet tooth. Smiling to himself, he made his plans.

  * * * *

  Calvin had insisted on going to one of the finest bakeries in Birmingham, the small, cloistered town primed to the needs of the very wealthy. It had some of the best shops for gourmet food.

  Dameon built up the fire in the sitting room. The enormous house grew easily cold, despite the fortune he spent for central heating. He grinned to himself, watching absentmindedly as the fire grew larger.

  He had a sudden inspiration. He thought of Jen's love of photography and remembered a book on one of her favorite subjects,
nocturnal animal life. He had helped fund the book, but it was a venture exclusively produced by a professional wildlife photographer. He would help Jen put together her own book, creating her own night life series. He would persuade her to let him finance it.

  Snapping his fingers, he suddenly remembered the wildlife book was in the other library. Hurrying to get it, he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. He frowned. It couldn't be Calvin back so soon. And, besides, Calvin had a key. With a resigned sigh, he decided he had better go to the door before the ringing bell woke Jen up. Through the eye hole, he saw the perky blonde neighbor of Jen's, Pam what's her name—Davis—that was it. He opened the door to her beaming smile.

  She fluttered her lashes at him and gave him a nervous smile. "Hi, Dameon, I know this is rude of me to come by uninvited..." She giggled, her cheeks rosy in the cold. "But, I have some news I know you would want to hear. What with all that's been going on," she added with a conspiratorial smile and a knowing expression in her eyes, "I just wanted to be helpful. You know, be a good neighbor."

  "Please, come in," he sighed, and opened the door with a polite but reserved smile.

  Pam bounced in, blonde ponytail bobbing beneath its pink bow. "Why thank you, how kind. Oooh, what a lovely home you have." She craned her neck and stared wide-eyed with obvious admiration. She trailed behind him, rubbernecking every which way.

  "Please, come have a seat." He gestured into the first sitting room, the nearest one to the entrance. The faster to get her out the door. Pam entered the peacock blue, octagonal room, sparingly furnished in blonde wood and marble.

  "Oh my, this is so beautiful. I would just love to see the rest of the house some day," she hinted as she plunked down onto the white suede love seat. She was wearing a down filled blue jacket, which matched her kewpie doll eyes. He had neglected to take her coat, in no way wanting to prolong her visit.

  "Perhaps, Mrs. Davis, you will tell me what I can do for you?" he prodded.

  She patted the seat next her and cooed, "Why don't we sit down and chat? You look so uncomfortable standing there."

  "That's quite all right. You said you had important news for me?"

  She coughed. "I don't know why, but my throat is so dry. It must be the cold."

  He repressed another sigh. "Would you like a cup of tea? There's a pot already brewed."

  "That would be wonderful." She batted her lashes.

  "Lemon and sugar?"

  At her eager nod, he moved quickly through the room's additional entrance to the dining room.

  Rapidly, he assembled the tea and condiments, and frowned to himself. The woman was a nuisance, but he shouldn't allow himself to get so annoyed. It was just that, with the violent incident last night, his fear for Jen and the possibility of a police intrusion, he was more on edge than usual.

  Balancing a tray, he hurried back to Pam Davis, hoping she was a fast drinker. "I've brought you tea, Mrs. Davis," he said, entering the room. He stopped. The room was empty. Pam Davis was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he started to call out her name when he froze.

  He spun around, his senses immediately tightening. Reflexes honed to radar sharpness, he felt a presence—a threat. He instantly sidestepped, bracing himself with sudden animal speed and dropped the tray to the floor with a loud clatter. Tea and sugar flew through room. Lemon wedges bounced against the wall and china shattered. A rush of air and claws came flying at his throat.

  He caught Tatiana mid-air just as she dropped from the ceiling. Shrieking with harpy laughter, she knocked him down to the ground. He fell backwards, struggling to grab hold of her wrists. Her face was stretched and twisted in a death mask, and he knew he was in serious trouble. She was in a full-scale vampire kill mode. Tatiana's power and strength were tenfold. Of course. He had invited her in.

  Inviting a vampire into one's home was the paramount error, often a fatal one for humans. For himself, it meant genuine danger. He might not be able to control and overpower her, and he knew she would drain him in a heartbeat the second she won.

  Images of Jen sleeping innocently upstairs rose up in his mind's eye, and he fought Tatiana with an increased ferocity that momentarily startled the lamia.

  They rolled on the floor, locked in mortal combat, with Dameon beginning to lose ground. She was ranting, eyes blood red, foam forming at her mouth. "...to think, I fooled you, Dameon the untouchable, with such a simple trick, so simple that a child could have seen through it!" she shrilled as she struggled to pin him down. "You have been so weakened, vampan, so corrupted by the whey-faced bitch, that you actually believed I was this human creature." She let loose a peal of raucous laughter and dug her nails into his throat. "Just think of it. You, the great mind master, actually invited me in. Invited me in!" She doubled over with glee as she pressed his throat harder. He was beginning to black out. "I'm going to have such fun with you and your little bitch, more fun than I've had in a long time. You had your chance, Dameon. And now, you'll pay."

  He was forcing himself to rise unsteadily to his feet when she unexpectedly caught him in a locked position, standing behind him, her arms wound viselike around his throat. Her legs gripped him with insane strength.

  "I was going to set you up, kill your little Jen or that other pathetic human, and let you take the fall," she spat in his ear. "Who do you think was behind all of the ‘pranks,’ Dameon?" She chortled. "I set up the clues so that even the stupid humans would find you and discover what you are." Her eyes flamed red. "But, I've lost patience with that now. It's time for you to die," she hissed. "But, first, I'll make you watch as I slowly, slowly tear you precious Jen apart. Whatever's left of her, I'll feed to the crows—if there's anything left, that is."

  On and on came the flow of verbal sewage issuing from her contorted, red lips. Feeling contaminated just from listening to her, he lost his balance and slammed backwards to the floor. A mistake.

  Tatiana hurled herself down and straddled him, hair hanging in her face and spittle dripping off her fangs. She raised her face to the ceiling and howled and crowed in triumph. His brain worked feverishly with instinctive craftiness. He made himself lay silent and motionless, and watched Tatiana through half-shut eyes as she gloated and preened over her perceived victory. As he'd hoped, she became overconfident and started to loosen her hold.

  She growled, "You're mine now." Her face was a deranged, twisted mask as she grinned down at him. She pulled back her lips and was bending to rip open his throat. She would either kill him, or worse, make him her slave and sycophant—a typical evil Lamia trick.

  Excited and chortling hysterically over her apparent conquest, Tatiana relaxed her hold a fraction more. She was utterly absorbed by her own incoherent rantings, which gave him a chance to gather up his energy and force.

  Frantic over Jen, his powers began to refuel. His goal was simple and clear in his mind. He had no other choice. In one, singular, serpentine movement, he unseated Tatiana. She toppled backwards. Gaping open-mouthed and caught off balance, Tatiana lost a precious second to react.

  Dameon pulled himself up, his strength soaring back through him. He leapt too quickly for her to react. In that second, he regained the upper hand. She grunted and cried out as he caught her from behind and yanked her arms tightly behind her. Her eyes glowed red and hot, and she shrieked and snarled out her hatred. If he loosened his hold for only a half-second, he knew he was a goner.

  It was time to strike. A savage desire to destroy her clashed with a deep distaste for what he was about to do. His body released the sudden, titanic flood of chemicals into his bloodstream, which transformed him.

  Tatiana saw before she felt him sink his powerful fangs into her throat. Her high-pitched howls echoed relentlessly through the room. Seconds passed and her cries soon dwindled to a gurgle. With her last breath, barely audible, she whimpered "Dameon...I..." Without another sound, she went limp.

  He threw back his head and roared. A harsh, wild sound, a purely instinctive sound, burst involuntarily
from his throat. He sucked in her life force, hating every drop that he swallowed. But knew he had to do it. When it was over, he dropped her lifeless form to the ground. A faint noise behind him caused him to twist around, ready and poised for an attack.

  It was Jen, standing huge-eyed and white-faced on the stairway behind him, staring at him through the room's open door. She was frozen mid-step, halfway down the staircase. His body shook violently as it worked to recover from his battle with Tatiana. The chemicals in his system were still pounding and only starting to subside. Catching his breath, he watched as Tatiana's form hissed and smoked, turned black and charred-looking, and then shriveled into a prune-like skeleton. The corpse shuddered and then shrank even further into a desiccated pile of dust. Jen watched in speechless horror, her breath coming in short, tortured gasps. Neither she nor Dameon were able to utter a single word for minutes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jen had woken earlier, feeling happier and more content than she had ever felt before. She stretched and luxuriated in the huge, soft, round bed. The room's walls were cloaked in ivory drapes, which matched the bedcovers. Ivory, not white as she had thought last night. The walls made a stark backdrop for the ebony furniture. Jen took a moment to admire a series of beautiful Chinese prints hanging on the walls. Peeking through the window, she watched the sun struggle to pierce the foggy, dense sky. The walls were thick and solid in the house. She hadn't heard the noises at first.

  She pulled on her long shirt from last night. A hot bath sounded wonderful, but she decided to track Dameon down first. After she washed up and put a little makeup on.

  It wasn't until she wandered down to the bathroom that she heard the voices from below. She'd been amazed to hear Pam Davis's cloying voice and was surprised at how uneasy that voice made her. Combing her hair in front of the marble-and-gold-rimmed vanity mirror, she'd noticed an assortment of brand new lotions and soaps on the counter. After trying a few, she stopped to examine her reflection, which was fresh-faced and glowing. She was pleased that Dameon would be seeing her at her best for a change.