Master of Darkness

by Susan Sizemore

  Having her would be more of a conquest than a seduction. And wouldn’t that be a delight?

  “What are you looking at?” she demanded.

  “Your nose.”

  Eden wished she hadn’t asked. It was bad enough the vampire was prettier than she was; did he have to insult her about it, too?

  “What about my nose?”

  “I like it.” He reached across the narrow table and touched the tip of it. “I like it a lot.”

  What on earth was there to like about her nose? “It’s large.”

  “No. Long, yes, but elegant.”

  Eden didn’t think he was insulting her; he seemed to be giving an honest opinion. Or at least, he was flattering her in a way meant to be disarming, and it almost worked. There was something inside her that wanted to preen and ask what else he liked. She shook her head, more disgusted with herself than him.

  “I’ve been living in Los Angeles the last few decades, and most of the women there are at least one-quarter plastic. It’s nice to see someone with all her original equipment.”

  His gaze slid lower.

  It wasn’t like she was dressed for seduction, but the black knit shirt she was wearing did outline her breasts.

  “Nicely original,” he murmured.

  “How can you tell?” she asked, curiosity pummeling down any sense of outrage. “X-ray vision?”

  “More of a heat-seeking sense.”

  Of course he meant that he was aware of the blood flowing through her body. You couldn’t squeeze blood from silicone any more than you could from a turnip, she supposed. So of course he could tell that she was all natural. And what odd tangents the brain went off on when facing a vampire across a coffee-shop table.

  “I thought the Jackals ran L.A.,” she said, trying to get back on track, or at least gather some intel.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Jackals? My dear, they call themselves Clan Shagal. That’s jackal in Persian, I think. Very high-class, the Shagals. I’ve been hanging with them lately, and they’re so noble and pure I was nearly bored to death.”

  Eden was shocked at the vampire’s assessment of his own kind. “You’re not noble and pure?”

  There was a wicked gleam in his eye when he answered. “I said they were boring. Being good all the time seems to come easy for them.”

  “But not for you?”

  “I am not a perfect man. Of course, I’m not a man at all. Exactly. By your definition. Though my equipment is in perfect working order.”

  He gave her a devilish grin that almost made her think he was cute, rather than incorrigible. But she couldn’t forget he was a predator. And her kind were the preferred prey.

  “You only look human,” she told him.

  “You do know that there’s a belief among the Clans that your kind and mine are the same species, separated by minor mutations? And that it is the duty of the more advanced types to protect their little brothers and sisters?” He snorted. “No, really. They believe that.”

  Eden laughed. “Mutants protecting regular folks? You people believe you’re the X-Men? Would that make you Wolverine?”

  He reached across the narrow table to touch the tip of her nose. “Madam, it is not your sarcasm I mind. It is your choice of mutant. I would obviously be Gambit.”

  It surprised her that the vampire’s touch was warm and gentle. It also surprised her that he’d just mentioned her favorite comic-book character—Remy LeBeau, aka Gambit, a thief, a rogue, a man deeply in love with a woman he could never touch, and full of guilt for crimes he’d committed while working for a man he didn’t know was a supervillain. Ah, Gambit!

  “He’s your favorite, too!” the vampire said, drawing his hand away. And looking smug. “Wouldn’t I be perfect to play him in the movie?”

  “You don’t look a thing like him. Besides, the movie Rogue is still too young to meet Gambit.” And why was she talking about movies and comic-book heroes with the creature she was assigned to work with? She did not want to know that they had things in common. It made him seem more like a person than a simulacrum of humanity.

  She straightened stiffly in her chair. “Humans don’t need your protection. But for our mutual benefit, we acknowledge that we occasionally need your help.”

  “Did you rehearse that?”

  “Yes. It was part of my briefing.”

  He spread his hands out before him. Elegant, long-fingered pale hands.

  She wanted those hands on her.

  Damn!

  “I didn’t miss the briefing on purpose.” He laid his palms flat on the table and took a dramatic look around the coffee shop. They were the only ones there. “Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me everything.” He checked his watch. “And soon. The night’s not exactly young, darling.”

  Fortunately his smart-ass attitude nicely counteracted his amazing looks. Eden gritted her teeth at the darling.

  She did take the time to finish the last few sips of her mocha latte, showing that she didn’t take orders from him. Maybe it was childish, but she had to do something to keep the balance of power tilted toward the human side.

  “All right,” she said after patting her lips with a napkin. “There’s been an influx of Tribe vampires into the San Diego area recently.”

  “I’ve noticed that.”

  “We’ve been trying to keep tabs on them, make sure they don’t do anything illegal. Your side has been trying to find out what makes our fair city so interesting all of a sudden.”

  “Well, it can’t be for the desert sunshine,” he said. “Not for Tribe types.”

  “That’s what we thought. After all, everybody knows that the Tribes don’t use those daylight drugs of yours. And why is that?” she wondered. “If everyone else uses them, why don’t the Tribes?”

  “Not every Clan or Family vampire uses them,” he told her. “For one thing the king Primes among the Tribes forbid their use. For another, the Clans control access to the drugs. There’s too much baggage that comes along with a Tribe Prime coming in from the dark. If a Tribe member is willing to renounce his culture and history, and whole way of life, then the Clan scientists might let him use the drugs. After he’s been reeducated and proved his worthiness to be adopted into a Family. Or if he grovels enough, he might even”—he gave a mocking gasp and put his hand over his heart—“be allowed to serve one of the high and mighty Clans.” He sounded even more bitter when he added, “There’s a long waiting list to abandon the Tribe way of life. Of course, if the pack leaders find any of these traitors, the poor bastards are executed in gruesome, horrible, and really fun for the rest of the pack ways.”

  Eden folded her hands on the black marble tabletop and stared at the vampire. It surprised her that he didn’t sound like he approved of his own kind’s policy of screening the candidates who tried to escape from Tribe life. Of course, they were all still vampires no matter what their affiliation. But the Clans did have a better track record for blending into the modern world.

  Or maybe they were just better at hiding their crimes against humanity. The hunters didn’t have strong evidence of overt evil, so they kept truce with the Clans, and mostly with the Families. The Tribes were fair game, and the Tribes were the problem right now.

  “I notice you didn’t mention anything about Tribe females changing sides,” she said.

  For a long, dangerous moment he looked at her like he thought she was crazy. In fact, there was a smoldering outrage in his eyes that frightened her.

  Then he blinked and smiled faintly. “We don’t know much about Tribe females.”

  Eden suspected this was a lie, but let it go. Gaining insights into vampire society was fascinating, but it wasn’t worth alienating her partner just because they were touchy about their females.

  She couldn’t blame the Prime for his attitude. Once upon a time, human hunters had made a concerted effort to kill all vampire females. The reasoning was that if they couldn’t breed, the monsters would die out. The monsters didn’t take kindly
to this attempt at genocide, and the resulting war had been devastating on vampires and hunters alike. It was one of the few times all three types of vampires had joined forces to work together. Though this had been back long, long ago, in the 1300s, Eden suspected the vampires still held a grudge. Heck, as long-lived as the vampires were, Wolf might have had close relatives involved in the conflict.

  “How old are you?” she asked him.

  “Do you know the Police song ‘Born in the Fifties’?” he answered.

  “Who are the Police?”

  He sighed. “What passes for music these days…Let’s just say I’m not quite old enough to collect Social Security. No, I’m lying,” he added, and looked startled at the admission. “I’m older than that. It comes from living in Los Angeles where youth really matters.” He tilted his head to one side and gave her another thorough looking-over. “I never ask a lady her age.” He grinned. “But I’m good at guessing.”

  Eden almost didn’t hear what he said; she was trying too hard to control the wave of sensual heat sweeping through her. It didn’t get any better when he took her hand and ran his thumb in a slow sweep over her palm. Her breathing became ragged and the whole world centered around the point where skin met skin.

  “You see, this is the sort of thing you should not let a Prime do,” he said. And broke the spell by taking his hand away. “Not during business hours, at least.”

  Her flush of desire turned to one of embarrassment. “Lesson learned,” she gritted between clenched teeth.

  He gave a brisk nod. “Don’t worry, Faveau, we’ll get each other trained. This is my first assignment, too.”

  She hadn’t said anything about this being her first assignment, but she let it go.

  “I’ve never worked with humans before, but I do have plenty of experience on the streets,” he reassured her. “What are the Tribe boys doing that has the hunters working with the Clans?”

  Eden blamed herself for getting so off track. So she straightened in the chair and spoke quickly. “There’s a drug known as Dawn. It’s a knockoff of your daylight drugs. We don’t know who is making it, or who is distributing it to the Tribe primes, but San Diego is the source. That’s why the sudden influx of vampires into the city.”

  “Dawn?” His eyes lit with interest, when righteous indignation would have been more reassuring. “A way to bypass the strictures of the Clans and the Tribes.”

  “It’s dangerous for them.”

  He nodded. “But I can see why they’d risk it for a shot at a daylight life.”

  “No. I mean it’s dangerous for them. And for us. There are psychotic side effects. After taking Dawn for a while, they go nuts. Like that pair that attacked you.”

  Chapter Three

  Laurent almost laughed at the notion that Tribe Primes ever needed a reason to attack. He doubted this rip-off drug could cause his Tribe brethren to behave psychotically; Dawn probably just gave them more waking hours to be themselves.

  And he wasn’t here to help Eden, even if her earnestness almost made him forget himself for a few minutes. He was Laurent of the Manticores, merely pretending to be of the pure-hearted, noble Clan Wolf.

  And he wasn’t even exactly pretending. She’d seen a vampire being attacked by other vampires, and made a rash assumption. The mistake was hers.

  This arrogant female would pay for her mistake when he gave in to his strong natural desire to taste both her blood and her body. Arousal sparked off her, and he savored the tension of fighting his own response.

  There was a part of him that almost wanted to protect Eden Faveau from her mistake. But she’d killed a vampire right before his eyes. She’d saved his life, but she’d killed one of his kind to do it. His gratitude was mixed with wariness, when he should have nothing but contempt for this human.

  Okay, he might have killed the guy himself, but that was his right as a Prime fighting another Prime.

  She was a female, a soft creature of warm flesh and hot blood meant for use. She needed him, as a partner and ally, and his reaction to that disturbed him. He could make women want him, but need in any way was new, different—nice.

  “Oh, hell,” he muttered.

  He’d definitely spent too much time in the presence of Clan boys lately; all that concentrated nobility must have messed with his head. But his time among the Jackals, Foxes, and Crows had also taught him how to act like one of them. And maybe some insight into this Dawn drug.

  He almost opened his mouth to tell her, but luckily she interrupted this idiocy.

  “Hell what?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “But—”

  He waved away the question and rose to his feet. He was here to use her, and it was time they got going—before the real Sid Wolf showed up to complicate Laurent’s life even further.

  He pulled back her chair to help her stand, which seemed like a gallant Clan sort of gesture. She brushed against him as she got up, and the contact stunned him. He became almost painfully aware of her warmth, and of her scent. His arm came around her waist, and he pulled her against him before he could think about it.

  “What the hell—!”

  She struggled, and that woke up his need to hunt, control, and dominate. Oh, yeah, he was Tribe all right! The elbow she jammed sharply into his stomach would have brought him back to his senses, but Laurent had already felt the presence of the others a moment before the pain registered.

  “We’ve got company,” he whispered in her ear. “Time to leave.”

  The woman immediately became alert to the danger, all business. “How many? Where? How did they find us?”

  He was aware of her annoyance at herself for asking a question she knew wasn’t necessary to their immediate problem, but this was the question he chose to answer. Just not necessarily truthfully.

  “The one that got away must have picked up your scent. They’ll want revenge for the one you killed,” he said, providing only half an answer.

  Or at least not completely accurate. They might be after her, too. Revenge was a big part of Tribe culture.

  “Me?”

  He kept his arm around her waist as he considered possibilities, and felt her start of surprise. “Don’t worry, partner. We’ll be fine.” If he told her he’d protect her, he’d likely get an elbow in the stomach again. He concentrated for a moment. “Two, maybe three in the parking lot.”

  “Then I guess we go out the back door.”

  “When you said we’d go out the back, I thought you wanted to leave.”

  She’d insisted that they do a little recon. Eden looked at her vampire companion. “Most of my equipment’s in my car.”

  “You can come back for it later.”

  “I want my car.”

  They were crouched on the roof of the coffee shop, looking down on the parking lot of the small strip mall.

  “There are three vampires down there.”

  “Do they know we’re up here?”

  She watched Wolf close his eyes and concentrate. He looked like a radiant angel when the frustration left his features, though Eden figured the radiant part might have something to do with how his pale skin looked in the moonlight. She didn’t know why he was being so willing to run away.

  All right, so she agreed with his “Live to fight another day” argument. But she didn’t like the thought of having those things on her tail. She didn’t have any psychic talents to help her detect their presence. All she had was her wits, her training, her stuff—and him.

  “Well?” she asked Wolf.

  He opened his eyes. “You could call for backup.”

  “You’re my—”

  “I knew you were going to say that.” He looked back down at the lot as a car pulled in. Another car pulled out. “One of the reasons they haven’t attacked us yet is because this area is busy.”

  “There’s an all-night pharmacy, the convenience store, and the coffee shop.” She glanced at the sky. “Maybe the concentration of traffic will keep us
safe until sunrise.”

  He also looked up at the sky. “If they’re using the drug, sunrise isn’t going to be their problem.”

  He sounded worried. “Whose problem will it be?” she asked suspiciously.

  “You could call your friends from earlier tonight,” he suggested. “Strength in numbers, and all that.”

  She sighed. “They’re busy. Besides, I’m supposed to be working with you. The fewer people involved in an operation the better.”

  “Why?” He suddenly looked disgusted. “Don’t tell me you hunters play by the same sort of outmoded stupid rules that hog-tie the Clans and the Tribes?” His hand landed on her shoulder. “Why, oh why, can’t we all forget about the past and behave sensibly? Just once?”

  She shrugged away from his touch. Even if she did see his point, she was still appalled—in a knee jerk sort of way—to hear a vampire Prime speaking like this.

  “What’s the matter with you? I thought the Clans were supposed to hate the Tribes as much as we do. What are you doing here if—”

  “Maybe they sent someone who doesn’t feel rabid, fanatical hatred for anyone,” he snarled at her.

  His eyes were glowing. It was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Eden was slowly reaching for the garlic spray in her pocket when Wolf got himself under control.

  “I’m a peaceful kind of guy,” he asserted. “Live and let live, I say. Except when terminating with extreme prejudice is absolutely called for.”

  She glanced down at the parking lot. “Like now?”

  “No.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  She stood up. He dragged her back down. She was surprised by the lack of effort it took him. She knew vampires were stronger and faster than humans, but personally experiencing the results of these heightened senses was a much more visceral experience. She’d have to remember to mention that in her audiotape report.