Bad to the Bone (Night Fall Book 10)

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Bad to the Bone (Night Fall Book 10) Page 7

by Delilah Devlin


  Dirk’s crooked smirk deepened, and he stepped close to Viper, not stopping until their chests bumped. “You don’t know who my friends are.”

  “I think I do,” Viper whispered. “Why do you think I’ve wasted so much time and money getting close? Think I actually liked spending time with you?”

  Dirk’s head lowered as he stepped back. His hands fisted at his sides.

  Viper tensed, but kept the motion hidden. Knowing Mariah watched, he had to keep cool or she might freak, and the last thing he could bear was her entering this creep’s radar. Expecting that Dirk would rush him, Viper braced for impact. But Dirk’s next move stole his breath.

  A soft explosion sounded. His shirt fell in tatters around him as large dark wings spread, crashing against the bottles lining the shelves behind the bar, and stirring the air as they folded then expanded.

  Dirk’s smile was cruel. His eyes gleamed gold. “You’ll never have a pair of these,” he said, lisping through jagged teeth. “Zachary will never bestow them upon you. Tell your fucking council—it’s on!” In one effortless bound, Dirk jumped to the bar then strode down its length, kicking away glasses before flapping his wings to fly toward the door.

  His crew laughed and turned to follow, stopping to sweep their arms across tabletops.

  When they’d departed, Viper let out a deep breath. His cover was blown. He hoped those he’d set to watch the doors were fast on Dirk’s ass, but if the winged vamp decided to fly back to Zachary’s hideout, they were all fucked and squarely back at square zero.

  “Boss, we’ll take care of the mess,” Ginnie said from beside him.

  Without glancing her way, he nodded.

  “You might want to see about your honey pot. She’s hiding in your office.”

  His gaze darted to hers.

  Ginnie’s lips twitched. “I moved her there. It’s why I was a little slow joining the party.” She tilted her chin toward the entrance of the club. “I take it we’re going to war.” Pouting, she glanced down at the sooty pile on the floor. “Damn shame about Barry. He made a mean appletini.”

  Viper turned to glance up at the large, tinted office window that allowed a full view of the club. He could feel Mariah’s gaze upon him, knew she had to be freaked out by what she’d seen, but he had a call to make first. Navarro needed to know. The time had come for him to come home. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and hit the speed dial.

  “Yes, Viper.”

  Navarro’s crisp, lightly accented voice held a note of irritation. Viper must have interrupted something. “My cover’s blown. Zachary’s boy paid me a visit at the club. Sprang a fine set of wings before he left.”

  “I’ll ready the plane. We’ll be there before dawn. I expect to see you at the house.”

  “I’ll be there. I might have company with me.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Viper glanced up at the glass again. “Mariah was at the club when it happened.”

  “Sounds like you have plenty of time to handle that problem.”

  Viper’s phone beeped, indicating Navarro had hung up. Fuck, I need more time.

  With the weight of his past riding his shoulders, he headed toward the stairs.

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Mariah jerked as she heard the rattle of the door handle followed by a light rap. She knew Viper stood on the other side. Knew the danger was past. Or at least the worst possible danger… Still, she hesitated moving from the window overlooking the bar.

  The waitress who’d served them water was busy directing other employees as they swept away the remnants of the battle—including the pile of ashes that had been the bartender. Mariah couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the fact she’d witnessed a death. Something she’d never experienced before. An ache settled in her belly, and her hands shook. Even knowing he hadn’t been quite human didn’t diminish her horror. Plus, she’d seen a different kind of monster, part vampire—she’d noted his jagged smile—and part angel, apparently, although his wings had been leathery rather than feathered, but what did she know about supernatural beings?

  Viper knocked again, and she turned. No doubt he could force himself inside with little effort. That he bothered being polite seemed strange.

  She moved with slow steps from the window, opened the door, and stood aside, not meeting his gaze. Now, she wasn’t as enthralled as she’d been, sitting at his table while he’d introduced her to the pleasure humans felt when they provided a vampire with a meal. Instead, a dull, leaden fear weighed on her frame.

  His expression was hard, his jaw a sharp blade. “We have to leave. Now. I’m taking you home.”

  Code for: I’m taking you home and stealing your memories, again, she was sure. But she’d already handled that particular problem. Her phone held a message to herself, which included his name, Viper, the club’s name and address, and quickly sketched-out details about how she’d come to be a feather-headed moron. She’d managed that much once she’d locked herself inside the office, even through the shock of the arrival of Viper’s friends. “I’ll make my own way home,” she said, giving him at least a token of resistance.

  His head came up and turned sharply toward her. “No, you won’t, Mariah. I don’t know whether all of that bastard’s friends left, or if they’ll try to track my movements. If they find you instead…” He closed his mouth, forming it into a tight, narrow seam.

  “What was he?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

  “Not now, Mariah.” Brows lowered, he reached for her arm, closed his fingers around her wrist, and pulled her as he turned.

  She dragged her feet even as she let him pull her behind him, down the stairs and past the workers.

  He didn’t pause as he shouted, “Ginnie, you know where I’ll be. Make sure everyone lays low.”

  Ginnie, her features already rather hard, gave a tight-lipped nod.

  Mariah glanced at her flat eyes, her wiry slender figure dressed in a tight tank that revealed well-defined arms and plump breasts, her skinny jeans that hugged strong legs all the way down to her steel-toed boots. An image surfaced, and she remembered the other woman’s super-human speed. “She’s one of y—”

  “Yes,” Viper bit out. “A vampire. But one of mine.”

  She wondered if they’d fucked…and got her answer by the slow smile Ginnie gave as Viper again tugged on her wrist.

  Outside, Viper dropped her hand and strode to a nearby motorcycle, all chrome and black and every bit as menacing as he was, and mounted it. “Get on behind me. Hold on tight.”

  She lifted her chin. “What was he?” she ground out. Everything else about this investigation and her fate was beyond her control, but she didn’t want to make this easy. Her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it.

  “Just another vampire.”

  “But he had wings…” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Do you have—”

  “No.” He drew a deep breath and looked at her. “Get on the bike, sweetheart.”

  It was the “sweetheart” that dissolved her resistance. His tone changed with that word, going soft and grumbly. No use beating herself up for her weakness. She wouldn’t remember any of this anyway. She climbed on behind him and slid her arms around his waist. The contact zinged through her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her breathless with anticipation for what would come next. Then she noted the way his muscles flexed and rippled everywhere she touched.

  So, the attraction was mutual—a small salve to her pride. He started the engine and backed up the bike. In moments, they were flying through the streets, the wind whipping at her hair. She didn’t care he hadn’t offered a helmet. Wouldn’t care if he invited himself inside her apartment and fucked her. The rush of movement and the cleansing wind made her feel alive. Here, at last. Every sense exploding. Mist brushed her face, and his aroma—a mixture of cigarettes, booze, and him—filled her nostrils. She spread her palms to feel more of his taut belly and rubbed upward to explore his sculpted chest, loving
his lean muscled frame, while her own body hummed with awareness. Had her husband been this enticing?

  The question didn’t fill her with any sense of disloyalty. Danny had chosen to leave her. Viper was here now and trying to keep her safe. That he was a vampire didn’t lessen his appeal—in fact, she was more fascinated. Deeply curious in a way she hadn’t been in a very long time—about anything.

  That thought made her fingers curl into claws. Like hell would she let him leave her stupid and clueless. If he wouldn’t listen to her arguments, she still had her message to review. Using those details, she’d discover the truth on her own. With only a ring to go on this time around, arriving at the truth hadn’t taken a week. And the warning she’d recorded—to not trust any vampire with the knowledge that she was aware of what they were—should keep her from suffering another mental gap.

  Now, she understood her calendar notes. She likely hadn’t had time for more. If Danny had slipped from the bed for a glass of water or to use the bathroom, those cryptic notes were likely the best she could have managed. So, why had she never followed those clues?

  The motorcycle slowed, and Viper made a U-turn in the street in front of her apartment building before backing the bike into a narrow space between two cars.

  Bracing a hand on the frame, she climbed off and dug into her purse for her keys.

  Viper pocketed his then stood staring down at her, his eyes deeply shadowed by his lowered brows.

  Why am I not afraid of him? And why am I not more shocked by everything I learned tonight? Or by the death I witnessed? Alone with the man, Mariah felt no dread. No fear. Instead, her heartbeat sped, and every erogenous zone tingled with anticipation. And damn him, he knew it.

  Viper’s nostrils flared, and a smile began to stretch across his face.

  The effect stole her breath. Perhaps, this was a glimpse of the man he’d been—lighter in spirit, not yet haunted by the countless sins he’d committed. She wanted more of his smiles. But she didn’t want to seem desperate either. “I can make my way up by myself. I’m sure you’re busy.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll see you inside. Have to check under your bed.”

  “Under my bed…” Her mouth twitched.

  “For monsters, before you sleep.”

  She drew a sharp breath. “If I refuse to let you enter…?”

  He raised a brow. “Despite what you may have seen in the movies, I don’t need your permission.”

  “Holy water?”

  Still wearing a smirk, he shook his head. “Why? Do you have some?”

  “Fine,” she bit out and handed over her keys. She followed him as he unlocked the front door and climbed the stairs to her floor. When he paused at her door, her steps slowed. Her heart thudded in her ears. How does he know which door is mine?

  When he glanced over his shoulder, his expression was set—no hint of his emotions. He pushed open her door and stood aside to let her pass.

  With her breaths shortening, she entered, then quickly put space between them—and then her sofa. “Viper—that’s not the name you were born with, is it?” she said, hating the quiver in her voice.

  Resting hands on his hips, he glanced at the ceiling, then back down at her. “You know who I am, Mariah.”

  She shook her head. “You let me go on and on and never said a word.”

  “You already knew too much.”

  “You didn’t have to come home with me.” Her lips curled into a snarl. “You aren’t here just to keep me safe. Was this some game you played to get me here? To get me into bed?”

  “I’m not playing, sweetheart.”

  Hot anger flushed through her. “Don’t say that word,” she shouted. Viper’s head drew back as though she’d slapped him, and she felt a moment’s remorse. What the hell? I feel sorry for him? What about me? She pointed toward the door. “Get out.”

  “You know I can’t leave. Not yet.”

  “Not until you bang me and suck my memories right out of my head, right?”

  “Banging would be nice,” he said.

  His voice was deadly even, his body so still she couldn’t detect a breath. She’d angered him, and she really ought to be wary after witnessing what that bat-winged vampire had done back at the bar. Frustration and fury blew through her before she could think about consequences—so hot and cutting, she shivered. “Get the fuck out,” she whispered. Then Mariah blinked, and he was gone.

  Warm breath gusted against her cheek.

  She froze, but as the moment dragged on, a tight little moan tore from her throat as she stood rigid in an agony of anticipation.

  Hands slid around her ribs and cupped her breasts through her Seahawk tee. Fingers pinched the centers then gave a hard twist.

  The slight pain forced a groan. Her thighs squeezed together.

  “Do you want to fight?” he growled beside her ear. “I’ll let you beat me with your fists, if that will make you feel better.”

  A sob caught her next breath. “I don’t want to hit you,” she whispered, relaxing her stance. “But I do want to know.”

  He bit her earlobe. “There’s a process…”

  Unable to fight her arousal, she tilted her head, inviting him to continue. “Does it involve…sex?”

  “Of course. Vampire here. Everything centers around blood and sex.” He pushed against her.

  At the small of her back, she felt the long, hard ridge of his cock. Dear God, she wanted some of that. “My clothes.”

  “Do you care about them?”

  “Hell no.”

  His hands smoothed to the neckline of her tee. A heartbeat later, he tore it down the center then scraped it off her shoulders. Her bra lay in scraps with the next thudding beat. She bent over and reached for the back of the sofa and nearly screamed with pleasure when her leggings and underwear fell away.

  Clothing continued to rustle, and then his strong hands cupped her hips, and his bared cock slid between her cheeks.

  She bent farther, shifted apart her feet, and then bit her lip when he prodded her, searching for her opening. She bit deeper to stifle her shout as he thrust upward, driving all the way inside.

  The feel of his stiff cock, sliding hard and deep through her channel, was nothing short of glorious. Only a few inward strokes were needed to prime her channel. Then his strong, upward thrusts pounded in a steady, ruthless rhythm, jerking her body and reminding her of just how powerful he was. She’d be sore in the morning, but she didn’t care. Soon her breasts bounced with each deep, steady stroke.

  Mariah sank into a blissful state. How did I exist all these years without knowing this pleasure? Fuck my mind, how did my body forget?

  His hands released her hips and moved along her sides to her shoulders then down her arms. Stretching over her body, he cupped the backs of her hands, then slid his fingers between hers. Together, they gripped the edge of the sofa.

  Lips smoothed over her shoulder, and he gripped her with his teeth, holding her, but not penetrating her skin. The threat itself an erotic tease that had her bearing down on his cock.

  “Don’t,” he growled then hissed through his teeth when she closed harder, gripping him with every bit of strength she could muster.

  “Witch…” he said, a lisp slurring the word. And then he removed his teeth and licked her skin.

  Again, she felt a tingly, numbing sensation, and then a dull stab when he bit. As he drew her blood toward her wound, she realized he didn’t need to touch her breasts or clit to arouse her any further. She was already there, already tumbling toward a powerful orgasm—which he arrested at the last moment, holding her there with the force of his will. “Please,” she whispered.

  He grunted against her, and she took it for no, because she continued to hover there as he arched his body and resumed driving into her.

  Every place their skin slid together burned. And he was changing, she felt it in the steely strength of his belly as he pounded her ass, the tension of his arms and fingers—the growing thic
kness of his shaft.

  She went wild, shuddering and undulating, rubbing against him in a frenzy of need. When she was sure she’d lose her mind, something else began. Memories spilled into her mind of other times they’d made love—in his sedan, on a boat, on this very sofa… Pain robbed her of breath as she sank deeply into those times. The first time they met… Him pushing her out a warehouse door in a seedy section of loading docks as he’d remained to face the man, Nicky Powell, whom she’d tracked, not knowing what he was. But through a window she’d watched, screaming as he’d ripped into Danny’s throat. She’d thought he’d been killed.

  Moses had glanced inside once, then dragged her to his sedan. Later, he’d explained that they’d both tracked Nicky, working in parallel. Moses and Danny had found him only to discover her hovering in the shadows. Danny had sacrificed himself for her.

  Feeling again the shock of that night, she closed her eyes and sobbed.

  He released her shoulder. “Stop!” he growled. He slowed his movements, coming to rest against her body. “Not your fault.”

  “How can you say that? You stayed to distract him while Moses hustled me to safety.”

  “It would have happened anyway. I was determined to take him in and hang murder charges around his fucking neck. I was every bit as clueless as you, babe. And after, he saw that I fed. He made sure I stayed in a haze of bloodlust. He thought once I’d crossed certain lines, I’d be his forever.”

  “You killed?” she whispered, then held her breath.

  He rubbed his stubbled jaw against her shoulder. “Yes. Took a while to get my head on straight. And by then, it was too late. When I began to work for the Council, I was shown what I had to do to erase me from your life and from everyone who knew me.”

  “Except for Moses…”

  “And a few well-placed humans.”

 

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