Pulling her to her feet, he leaned closer to her and shouted directly into her ear. “This is ridiculous! Come outside with me! We can’t talk with all this racket!”
He didn’t wait for a reply, just used his grip on her hand to drag Reggie in his wake through the crowd. She tried to tug her hand free, but Greg’s grip was surprisingly strong. He must have started working out more since they broke up.
Instead of bringing her toward the bar’s entrance, Greg forged a path toward the back door, shoving it open and hustling her into the rear alley before she could launch a suitable protest. The night air was chilly and damp, and the narrow space between the bar and the building next door looked dark and deserted. Not exactly someplace she would have chosen for a rendezvous with an old flame. But then, Greg had always been a little oblivious to that kind of thing.
Reggie wrapped her free arm around herself as a shiver shook her. Suddenly, she really wanted to go back inside. Or even to the coffee shop on the corner. Anywhere but here, alone with Greg.
She turned to him with what she hoped was a pacifying smile and put a little more effort into trying to tug her hand free. “Look, Greg, I don’t want to be a bitch, b—”
“It’s too late for that, Reg,” her ex growled as he shoved her hard against the cold brick of the alley wall and pinned her there with the weight of his body.
Reggie gaped. She couldn’t think of anything else to do. He’d literally shocked her senseless. Not in all the years she’d known him had Gregory Martin displayed any sort of penchant for violence. He’d never hit her, never shoved her; heck, the man even whined when he snagged a fingernail on her sweater. So why was he suddenly looming over her with a bad-movie-villain grin on his face and his blue eyes glowing a color Reggie could almost have sworn was tinged with red?
She fought back the first stirrings of fear this man had ever caused her. Then she got annoyed that she was feeling somehow afraid of a wuss like Greg.
“Greg, let me go!” She wedged her hands between them and shoved hard against his chest. “You’re being an asshole right now, and I’ve got to tell you, if this is supposed to be how you win me back, you’re going to have to try a new strategy!”
Greg didn’t even budge. He just leaned closer until his breath brushed against her cheek, smelling of mint and copper and something else that made her skin crawl.
“I don’t have to win you back, Reggie,” he whispered. “Do you know why?”
Fear sped through her and made a sharp left turn toward panic. Reggie began to struggle in earnest. “Because it’s a moot point since you can’t get it up with anyone who actually has taste and morals?”
He grabbed her by the arms and pinned them to the wall behind her, leaning into her until she shrank back, revulsion making her want to melt into the wall to escape him. She could feel his fingers digging into her skin. They would leave bruises, she realized, and the thought turned her stomach. If he left bruises, she would have to look at them and remember where they had come from.
God! She thought she might be sick.
She turned her head, looking for a breath of air not tainted by the scent of his breath and the cologne he always wore. When they were together, she had thought he smelled good enough to eat. Now his odor made her think of something left to rot too long in the summer sun.
Cursing her sexy yet insubstantial heels, Reggie tried to get a leg between his so she could knee him in the balls. He had deserved it even before tonight, but now she hoped she shoved them clear out his eye sockets.
Damn it! She didn’t remember Greg being this strong. When had he gotten this strong?
“Ah-ah,” he scolded, grunting when her knee connected with his thigh. “You shouldn’t antagonize me, Reg. Things have changed since you last saw me. I’m not the kind of guy you want to insult anymore.”
“It’s not a want, Greg; it’s a psychological compulsion.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Reggie gathered her strength and made one desperate lunge toward him. She didn’t care if she butted him in the cheek with her skull, stabbed him in the eye with her nose, or sank her teeth into any skin close enough for her to bite. She would do whatever she had to if it made him let go long enough for her to run.
She caught him under the chin with the side of her forehead. The impact made her teeth rattle in her skull and left her dazed for half a second, but Greg didn’t even flinch, let alone loosen his grip. He had her trapped and a wave of dizziness hit as Reggie began to think she just might not be able to get away.
What the hell was happening? How had she gotten here? Of all the ways she had expected this evening to go, being raped and murdered by her ex-fiancé in an alley behind a crowded bar had not appeared on the agenda.
Reggie lived an ordinary life, so how on earth had she been picked to meet such an extraordinary end?
“You used to be so sweet, Reggie,” the jerk breathed, raising her hands over her head so he could pin them with a single one of his own. When she tested that grip, she found it just as firm as if he’d been using both hands. “It’s a shame you had to turn into such a raving bitch.”
Greg lifted a free hand and brushed the weight of her disheveled hair behind her left shoulder, leaving her neck and throat bare to the cold night air. It took all of Reggie’s strength not to whimper. Especially when his gaze fixed on the tender skin, and the gleam in his eyes seemed to grow even redder.
“But then again,” he whispered, and Reggie closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see him lower his head, wouldn’t have to see him turn such an intimate position into something foul and corrupt. “Then again, I’ve learned these past few months that sometimes the bitches taste even better than the Barbies.”
God, this couldn’t be happening.
Reggie’s head began to spin. The world receded, going dark and out of touch around her. She felt hot and cold and sick to her stomach, like she might pass out or vomit or run screaming into the night. Every muscle in her body tensed as she felt the stir of hot, rancid breath against her flesh, felt the rough yank of his hand in her hair tugging her head to the side, felt the humidity of his parted lips as Greg opened his mouth…
…and screamed.
Chapter 11
Dmitri didn’t take much time to plan out his attack. The minute he turned into the alley and saw the man with his hands on Regina, he sprang like a hungry predator.
One hand lashed out, grabbing the bastard by the arm and wrenching hard enough to dislocate the shoulder and snap the humerus in one motion. Belatedly, he clamped his other hand over the man’s mouth to cut off the screaming. In that moment, he wanted nothing so much as to break the bastard’s neck and leave him where he fell, surrounded by the garbage he resembled. Not only had this man been the one who had caused his Regina so much pain in her past, but he had dared to touch her again after Dmitri had claimed her as his own. He deserved to die.
But Regina did not deserve to witness it.
Cursing, he tossed the man aside, sending him crashing into the dumpster at the end of the alley. He spared Regina a glance long enough to determine that she had no visible injuries before fixing his attention back on her attacker. He could feel his own lips curve in a snarl, and saw fear flash across Gregory Martin’s expression before it was quickly suppressed. In its place, the human mustered a snarl that made Dmitri look twice and curse.
Fangs. The man had been turned. Someone had made Regina’s former fiancé into a vampire.
“This is none of your business, old man,” the man hissed, his useless left arm dangling unevenly by his side. “You need to leave before it’s too late.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dmitri saw Regina waver, then slide down the wall to sit with her back against the bricks. He wanted to scold her for not taking better care. The pavement was damp from the recent rainy weather, and it was too cold for her to risk her health with such behavior. Then again, from the look on her face, he doubted she could have continued to stand even if he had command
ed it. For a moment she stared straight at him, her gaze dazed and unfocused, before her eyes fluttered shut and she slipped into unconsciousness. His instinct was to rush to her side, but he knew she would be safe now that he was there to watch over her. And he had more pressing matters to attend to.
“Too late for what?” he demanded, turning back to Martin and baring an impressive set of fangs of his own. “For you to abuse someone weaker than you for your own amusement? Tell me, were you planning to drain her? Or just have a little snack while you practiced your technique for abusing women?”
“Like I said, it’s none of your damned business.”
“Listen to me, fledgling.” Dmitri took a menacing step forward, his fists clenching at his sides. He wished fervently that they were around this pathetic idiot’s throat instead. “Your maker seems to have neglected a significant portion of your education, so permit me to tutor you in a few very important facts.”
He stalked deeper into the alley, every step bringing him closer to the fool who had dared to attack Regina. His Regina.
Maybe he wouldn’t strangle Martin after all. Ripping the beating heart from the bastard’s chest would prove even more satisfying.
“First of all, the vampires of this city obey certain rules, the most important of which is that we do not kill humans, and we do not feed from unwilling donors.”
Dmitri glided forward, noting with satisfaction that Martin had begun to ease away from him, his arrogant expression taking on a wary cast.
“Second,” Dmitri continued, “that rule and all the others that govern us are laid down by the Council of Others. What the Council says is the law, and you will respect it as such.”
“Our kind can’t be dictated to like children,” Martin sneered, even as he continued to back away from the very real danger before him. “We’re not humans; we’re hunters. Mortals are nothing but cattle for us to feed on.”
Dmitri beat back an instinctive snarl. He’d heard this kind of argument before, and he remained unconvinced. What men like Martin tended to forget was that all vampires had been human at one time, and looking down on one’s own origins was a good way for a warrior to make enemies. And to lose his head.
What struck Dmitri as curious, though, was that it usually took a few centuries for a vampire to grow as arrogant as this one had managed in the few short months since he’d been turned. In Regina’s memories of their relationship, the man had been clearly human.
“An interesting theory,” Dmitri murmured, backing the other man slowly and steadily into the blind end of the alley. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me who taught you this interesting philosophy?”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“Oh, I think you do.”
Martin continued to back up, sidling toward the side of the alley as he realized he’d been leading himself into a trap. “Why?”
“Because I am Dmitri Vidâme, head of the Council of Others,” he rumbled, gathering his muscles for the strike. “I make the rules for our kind in this city. And if the Council won’t take you in hand for your indiscriminate feeding, I’ll kill you myself for laying your hands on my woman.”
Perhaps he should have dispensed with the warning.
Instead of quaking in his heels as Dmitri had anticipated, Martin widened his eyes just before he launched himself forward, not in an attack, but in a desperate bid for escape. Because Dmitri had failed to give the younger credit for thinking of such a bold move, the gambit took him by surprise, and he instinctively pivoted to avoid being hit as the fledgling barreled past and out the end of the alley.
Instinct had Dmitri taking the first steps to follow before a faint noise caught his attention and brought him instantly back to Regina’s side.
He gathered her carefully into his arms, lifting her against his chest as if she weighed no more than a snowflake. To him, she did not. Cradling her limp form, he brushed a kiss against her temple and watched as her eyelids fluttered but remained closed.
“Hush, milaya,” he murmured, accompanying the words with a gentle touch to her mind, easing her from unconsciousness into sleep. “You are safe. You will always be safe now, because you are mine. And I shall treasure you for all time.”
Regina sighed and nestled her head more closely against his shoulder. “Misha,” she whispered, and he felt something inside him soften in acknowledgment.
“Yes, dushka. It’s time to go home.” He kissed her again and headed for the mouth of the alley. “Rest. Sleep. And when you wake, I shall be with you.”
He meant the words as a promise. He fully intended to look after her for as long as she needed him. But in the meantime, while she slept he intended to make a few phone calls and try to dig up some information on his latest discovery. Not only were there rogues in the city feeding on unknowing victims all around the club scene, but it looked like at least one vampire in Manhattan had decided to begin turning mortals without permission. When the Council found out, they would not be pleased.
Pouring on a burst of speed, Dmitri used his abilities to cover the short distance to Regina’s apartment building in little more than an instant. He wanted to get her inside where it was safe and settle her down for the night before he began dialing those numbers. He had a sneaking suspicion that one or two of his calls could turn out to be rather loud.
Chapter 12
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Do I sound as if this is a jest?”
Graham groaned. “D, the idea that a few of your fledglings were running around sucking on club kids like juice boxes was bad enough. Now you’re telling me that some rogue is out there randomly turning out untrained vamps like they were so many Amway reps? The Council doesn’t pay me enough for this shit.”
“The Council doesn’t pay you at all,” Dmitri pointed out. “Its operations are strictly volunteer supported.”
He took care to keep his voice down and the telephone close to his mouth, but he still kept one eye on the door to Regina’s bedroom in case she stirred. She’d already been asleep for more than half an hour and he couldn’t be sure how much longer she would remain unconscious.
“Yeah, and don’t think I haven’t clued in to how ridiculous that is,” the Lupine griped. “No one should have to put up with this kind of idiocy without some sort of compensation coming their way.”
“Think of the prestige.”
“Think of shoving it up your ass.”
Dmitri sighed. “While I appreciate your sentiment, I do not have the time to listen to your complaints at the moment, my friend. I need you to help me track down this fledgling. Without him, we have no way of discovering his maker.”
“Yeah, I get that part. But what about the other thing I’m already ‘helping’ you with? You want me to give up on the kid from the club and just do this instead?”
Dmitri bit back a curse. He’d almost forgotten about their lead on the rogues, and that wasn’t like him. He never left anything unfinished, and he didn’t plan to start now. A glance at his watch told him it was only a little after nine, though it felt much later. Justin wasn’t due to contact him with an update until eleven-thirty, but he didn’t want Graham waiting for that information before beginning to follow the trail of Regina’s ex-fiancé.
“Do not give it up, but pass it along to someone else. Put your best tracker on it, and then concentrate on this Martin fellow. He shouldn’t be that difficult to find. Not only is he a fledgling, but he’s an arrogant one at that.”
“Right. I’ll give the kid’s napkin to Logan. If anyone can still pick up a scent on it, it’ll be him.”
Dmitri grunted his assent. Logan Hunter was Graham’s beta, the second in command of the Silverback Clan of Lupines. Having Logan on the case was nearly as good as Graham doing it himself, and when it came to trailing scent, the beta might even have an edge over his pack leader. “Tell Logan to expect a call from Justin before morning. I will instruct Justin to contact Logan directly on anything i
nvolving the boy from the club. If we turn up anything on Martin on our end, I will pass it along to you myself.”
“Roger. Keep your cell handy. I’ll buzz you with anything important.”
Dmitri flipped his cell phone shut and slipped it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Then he folded the jacket over the back of the sofa, stripped off his tie, and draped it on top. Unbuttoning his cuffs, he rolled up his sleeves as he entered the bedroom.
Regina lay where he’d left her, curled up in the center of her bed, a tempting splash of scarlet against the white and pale sage of her quilted coverlet. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and spread across the pillows like a mantle of silk. Above the neckline of her gown, her skin flowed fair and smooth and flawless. It looked unmarked, but Dmitri needed to be sure.
Carefully, he settled on the mattress beside her hip and leaned in. The scent of her rose to fill his senses, warm citrus and sweet woman. Desire flared. He didn’t even need to touch her to want her, barely had to see her. She affected him as no other woman ever had, and the idea that he could have lost her tonight made him murderous.
Regina sighed in her sleep and shifted, her head turning to expose both sides of her throat. Dmitri examined the skin there carefully but found no marks. He had reached the alley in time.
Lifting a hand, he brushed a tangled curl away from his woman’s cheek and watched her nuzzle instinctively into his touch. Awake, she might fear their relationship was moving too fast, but asleep her heart and body recognized her mate.
Bozhe! God! To lose her would have destroyed him.
Dmitri saw his hand tremble at the thought and withdrew, curling his traitorous fingers into a fist to still the motion. Regina, thankfully, slept on undisturbed.
It tested a man, he acknowledged ruefully, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his thighs. After nine centuries of relationships that came and went like the seasons, to look at one woman and know she was the last…
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