She gave a choked laugh at his outrageous arrogance. “Could you possibly be a little more full of yourself?”
He shrugged. “There are some things that are inevitable.”
Abby paused. She wasn’t much of a philosopher. Hell, she didn’t even know what a philosopher actually did. But she did know that inevitable or fate or providence were not words in her vocabulary.
“No, there is no such thing as inevitable,” she said firmly.
“Why do you say that?” he demanded, more curious than offended.
“Because if fate was set in stone, then I would be a drunken whore working the streets for a cheap bottle of whiskey.”
Her tone was light, but she felt him stiffen beneath her, his fingers pressing into her skin.
“Don’t say that,” he rasped.
She pulled back to regard him with a somber expression. “Why not? It’s true enough. My parents were both alcoholics who shouldn’t have been allowed to have a dog, let alone six children. My father spoke with his fists and did us all a favor when he forgot to return home after a drunken spree. And my mother left her bed only long enough to get a fresh bottle of whiskey. My brothers took off as quickly as they could, and I was left alone to watch my mother die. What sort of destiny do you think was waiting for me?”
With a firm tug of his hands, he pressed her back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.
“Destiny has nothing to do with where you came from or who your parents might be,” he said fiercely. “Destiny comes from the heart, and the soul. You could never be anything less than extraordinary, Abby Barlow.”
Wrapped tightly in his arms, she did feel extraordinary. She wasn’t the grubby little girl who roamed the streets because she was terrified to go home. Or the teenager who kept people at a distance because she didn’t want them to know the truth of her family. Or even the tedious, rapidly aging woman who struggled just to keep a roof over her head.
She was bold and daring. A vampire’s lover. The woman who held the fate of the world within her.
A weary smile tugged at her lips.
God save the world if she was its best hope.
“I don’t know about extraordinary,” she murmured, “but I’m definitely exhausted.”
“Then sleep.” His lips pressed gently to her hair. “I promise to keep you safe.”
Abby allowed her heavy lids to fall shut.
No doubt she should be making plans and considering her options. Or even returning to the coven to discover if she could find any clue of where the witches might have fled.
Who knew what might be stalking and closing in on her even now?
At the moment, however, she preferred to play the role of Scarlett O’Hara to that of Lara Croft.
She would consider it all . . . tomorrow.
Dante was a card-carrying cynic.
How could he not be?
He was an immortal. He had done everything, seen everything, been with everything.
Most of them more than once.
There was nothing left to surprise him.
Nothing but the woman currently curled in his arms.
Bloody hell. He had already been amazed by her rare courage. And, of course, dazzled by her beauty. But to have her give herself to him with such raw, delicious abandon.
Well, that was enough to make even a jaded creature of the night feel a bit stunned.
A wry smile twisted his lips, and his hand ran softly over her curls. He was unaccustomed to holding a woman for hours as she slept. It was not the way of vampires. They were by nature solitary creatures. And even when together, they didn’t seek such tender intimacy. Passion was all well and good, but once it was done, there was no reason to linger.
Only humans felt the need to hide animal instincts behind pretty emotional wrappings.
Perhaps vampires were not nearly as wise as they had always believed, he ruefully conceded.
Sensitive to Abby’s slightest movement, Dante was aware the moment she began to stir. Tangled black lashes fluttered and then at last lifted to reveal sleepy blue eyes.
“Dante?” she murmured.
His arms instinctively tightened. “I’m here, lover.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
Dante shrugged. “I have little need for sleep.”
“Speaking of need, I have to step outside.”
With a rueful grimace, Abby pulled out of his grasp and pulled on her scattered clothes. Dante rose as well, his gaze never straying from her awkward motions.
“You won’t wander far?” he warned as she moved toward the entrance of the cave.
She tossed him a wry glance. “Don’t worry.”
She might as well have saved her breath, he acknowledged as she slipped out of the cave. He would of course worry. And fret. And damn the all-too-slow setting sun that prevented him from following after her.
If something happened, he would be utterly helpless to save Abby.
He paced the cave. That took all of five seconds. He rammed his fingers through his tangled hair and impatiently pulled it back to tie it at his nape. That took nearly three minutes. He paced again. And again. And again.
Ten minutes later, he was seriously considering the notion of marching from the cave to assure himself that Abby was still alive. Thankfully the sound of her pounding footsteps prevented any hasty death-by-setting-sun; moving as close to the entrance as he dared, he stood directly in her path as she barreled right into his waiting arms.
His brows swiftly pulled together as he felt her trembling against him.
“Abby? Is something wrong?”
She tilted back her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know. There were . . . shadows out there.”
Dante tensed in reaction, already considering how he could protect this woman while they were virtually trapped in the cave. Damn, he had not counted on anyone finding them so swiftly.
“Shadows?”
“No, that’s not exactly right.” She gave a frustrated shake of her head. “They were more silvery thingamabobs.”
He gave a lift of his brow. “Maybe it would be better if you tried to speak in English, my love. I don’t know the translation for thingamabobs.”
Turning about, she pointed imperiously toward the mouth of the cave.
“There.”
Edging dangerously close to the fading shaft of sunlight, Dante surveyed the nearby trees. His tension fled as he caught sight of the slender silver forms that darted through the shadows.
“Ah.”
“What are they?”
Dante shrugged. “I suppose you would call them fey creatures.”
She shifted to stand close at his side, seemingly unaware that her sweet heat was cloaking about him and causing all sorts of delicious reactions.
“Fairies?”
“Technically they’re demons,” he murmured in distracted tones.
“Just great.”
He glanced down at her tight expression. “You don’t have to worry; they’re very gentle and very shy. Which is why they prefer such isolated places.”
His words were meant to be comforting, but Abby lifted her hands to press them to her temples.
“This is insanity.”
“What?”
She heaved a deep sigh. “Until two days ago, demons were nothing more than something from a B-rated horror show. Now I’m tripping over them every time I turn around. They can’t just have suddenly appeared.”
“No.” With a rueful smile, Dante pulled her into his arms, his hands running a soothing path down her back. “They have always been here. Far longer than humans.”
“Then why haven’t I seen them before?”
“Because you weren’t looking with those eyes.”
“What?” She blinked before she was suddenly hit with comprehension. “Oh. You mean the Phoenix?”
“Yes.” His hands continued to smooth over her slender back, although he couldn’t fool even himself that it was any longer to o
ffer reassurance. “Most mortals prefer to see only what they desire to see, and of course, most demons possess the ability to keep themselves hidden.”
“Even vampires?” she demanded.
“When we choose.” Hearing a faint hum in the air, Dante turned Abby back toward the narrow opening, locking his arms about her waist. “Watch.”
“Watch what?”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “The dance.”
For a moment nothing could be seen, and then, just as Abby was shifting impatiently, the sun slipped past the line of trees and in the growing darkness the silvery shapes began to glow with luminescent color.
Shimmering in shades of crimson and emerald and gold, they darted among one another, their playful antics creating a dazzling display of color.
“Oh my God,” Abby breathed. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s just that I never expected . . .”
Her words trailed away as if she realized she was about to reveal her instinctive prejudice. His lips twisted in a humorless smile. He couldn’t blame her. She was still in shock from all that had happened. And the demons she had encountered so far had hardly been the sort to inspire warm, fuzzy feelings.
“Beauty among demons?” he finished in dry tones.
Slowly turning, she caught him off guard by pressing herself intimately against him as she smiled deep into his eyes.
“Actually, I’ve already discovered some demons can be incredibly beautiful.” Her eyes darkened, and her hand moved to stroke him in a manner that Dante fully approved of. “And incredibly sexy.”
He growled in fierce pleasure. “You’re playing with fire, lover.”
“Is that what I’m playing with?” she teased.
“Christ, I knew you would be a danger when you finally let loose,” he rasped, catching her tightly in his arms and carrying her deeper into the cave.
Chapter 11
Abby felt . . . what?
Sated, certainly. Gloriously sated.
But it was more than that, she decided as she lay in Dante’s arms and waited for the darkness to become complete.
She felt cherished. Yes, that was the word. As if what had just happened between the two of them had been more than just a means of passing the time or forgetting the horrors of the past hours or scratching the proverbial itch.
Maybe it was because he was a hell of a cuddler, or because he had centuries of practice, or just because he was Dante.
Whatever the case, she knew with absolute certainty she could spend an eternity with her head upon his shoulder and his hands softly stroking down her back.
Her dreamy thoughts were interrupted by a sharp jab to her neck. Lifting her hand, she slapped at the aggravating mosquito. Damn.
Well that was a pissy way to be jerked out of a rosy fantasy.
Probably not such a bad thing, she wryly acknowledged.
How delusional did she have to be to start dreaming of small bungalows, Sunday brunch, and nurseries with a vampire?
Obviously she had endured one zombie too many.
There was another fierce bite on her leg.
“Ow.” She slapped at her calf.
“I hope you’re not into some kinky self-flagellation,” Dante murmured. “I suppose it’s sexy enough, but it never turns out good.”
She sat up and scratched at one of her endless bites. “I’m being eaten alive.”
Although fully dressed, Dante still managed to look sinfully tempting as a lazy smile curved his lips.
“Not guilty . . . for a change.” The silver eyes flashed in the shadows. “Not that I mind a nibble or two.”
Abby might have shivered with pleasure if she hadn’t been busy saving what was left of her blood.
“Mosquitoes,” she retorted, her gaze skimming over his perfect features. Then it skimmed over the perfect hair that looked as if it had just been styled by Sassoon and the clothes that didn’t have a damn wrinkle in sight. It was enough to make the most sated and cherished woman a bit grumpy. “I suppose you don’t have to worry about the nasty bloodsuckers?”
His lips twitched at the edge in her voice. “Mosquitoes have never been a bother, but I can’t say the same for all bloodsuckers.”
She tilted her head to one side, her brief grumpiness forgotten.
“What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Being a vampire.”
A raven brow lifted at her blunt question. “I think you’re going to have to be more specific, lover. That’s a rather big question.”
Abby shrugged. “Is it a lot different from when you were human?”
There was a brief silence, as if he was considering precisely how much truth she could bear before folding his arms across his chest and meeting her curious gaze.
“I have no idea,” he at last admitted.
Abby blinked, not expecting that. “You were born a vampire?”
“No, but it isn’t like in the movies. I didn’t crawl out of a grave and continue on as if I never died.”
“Then what happened?”
His expression hardened as he dredged up his ancient memories. “I woke up one evening on the docks of London and couldn’t remember my name or anything about my past. It was as if I had just been born without the slightest clue of who or what I was.”
Abby frowned at the clipped words. Holy crap. He must have been terrified. It had been bad enough for her to accept she had a . . . thing rummaging around inside her. At least she hadn’t woken up allergic to the sun, addicted to blood, and with her few brain cells wiped clean.
More importantly, she had Dante at her side to ease her fear.
That, of course, was the only reason she wasn’t sitting in a padded room.
“Good God,” she breathed.
“At first I thought I must have been on a bender and that my memories would eventually return,” he said with a grimace. “I probably would have still been sitting on the docks when the dawn came if Viper hadn’t stumbled across me and taken me into his clan.”
Abby had an odd image of kilts and bagpipes. Not at all fitting with beautiful, deadly vampires.
“Clan?”
“A sort of family without all the guilt and drunken holiday brawls,” he retorted.
Abby chuckled softly. “That sounds like my kind of family.”
“Yeah, not bad if you can get it.”
His tone was flippant, but Abby was not foolish enough to believe that it had been easy.
Unconsciously, she reached out to grasp his hand. “Still, you must have been curious about your past.”
His gaze dropped as he interlocked her fingers with his own. “Not really. From my pungent scent and ragged clothes, I could guess I had been one of the endless hordes of undesirables that plagued the city.”
“But what if you had a family?”
For the barest fraction of a second, his fingers squeezed her own almost painfully; then he was once again leaning against the cave wall with that coiled ease.
“What if I did?” he demanded. “I wouldn’t have remembered them. They would have been strangers to me. Or worse.”
“Worse?”
He deliberately held her gaze. “Dinner.”
Her stomach clenched in horror. Damn. He warned her not to forget who, or what, he truly was. Unfortunately, he made it so damn easy.
“Oh.”
“It was better for everyone to allow the man I had been to simply die.”
She couldn’t argue. She never had believed in all that Leave-it-to-Beaver crap anyway. There were definitely times when it was better for all when Daddy walked away and never looked back.
She tugged her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knee.
“It must have been so strange. To just wake up and be someone you didn’t even know.”
Almost absently he raised her fingers to his lips. “In the beginning, but Viper taught me to appreciate my new life. He w
as the one to give me the name Dante.”
It was difficult to imagine Viper acting as a father figure. He seemed so remote and cold. Still, it was obvious that the older vampire had a great influence on Dante. And for that she had to be grateful.
“Why Dante?”
Dante smiled wryly. “He said that I needed to learn to be more a poet than a warrior.”
“Ah, Dante, of course.”
“He warned me that a predator was more than muscle and teeth. A predator must use his intelligence to observe his prey and learn their weaknesses. A kill is far easier when you can predict how your quarry is going to react.”
Abby grimaced. “God, I thought my outlook was bleak.”
He shrugged. “He wasn’t all wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I had been quicker to sense a trap, then those witches would never have gotten their hands on me.”
In a heartbeat, Abby was on her knees and had her hands framing his face. The thought that it might have been some other vampire besides Dante here with her was enough to make her stomach clench with horror.
“And you wouldn’t be Dante,” she said in stern tones.
An odd smile touched his lips. “And that would be a bad thing?”
“A very bad thing,” she whispered.
Without warning, he leaned forward to plant a fierce, possessive kiss upon her lips before reluctantly pulling back to regard her with a searching gaze.
“As much as I would love to stay and play, I think we had better move along.”
Abby stiffened. Move along? Go out into the dark and face whatever creepy crawlies were out there waiting?
It didn’t sound at all appealing. Not when she could think of several other things she would rather be doing in the dark.
Things that involved one sexy vampire and maybe some scented oil . . .
“Do we have to leave?” she demanded. “We’re at least safe here.”
He gave a shake of his head. “No, we’re very nicely trapped here. Especially once the sun rises.”
Abby wrinkled her nose, accepting that he might have a point. “Where will we go?”
Rising to his feet, he reached out his hand to help her up. “First we find the car and then head back to Chicago.”
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