by Lisa Andel
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Atlantic Bridge
www.atlanticbridge.net
Copyright ©2006 by Lisa Andel
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2006, Lisa Andel. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Prologue
I never knew my father. He conveniently disappeared when my mother informed him she was pregnant. My mother, though she tried, wasn't strong enough to raise me on her own. She died when I was seven, from a lingering illness that I couldn't pronounce.
For all their faults, they did provide me with a legacy that I will forever be grateful for. I don't know if you could call me immortal exactly; it's just that, no matter how I die, I just don't stay dead.
By the time I was eighteen years old, I'd died twelve times. I came back every single time. I've been run over, stabbed, shot, blown up; if you can think it up, it's happened to me. I lost any sense of fear that I might have had, after I'd come back a few times from death.
I know you're wondering if it hurts. Not at all. I'm alive one minute, and the next thing I know I'm waking up somewhere, unsure of how I got there. Someone else usually has to tell me I died, though I'm getting pretty good at recognizing the symptoms. Sometimes I can remember details right up to my death. Other times, I might lose a week or two right before it.
Two other things I know: My blood seems to be toxic to vampires, and if shifters consume me, I regenerate inside of them, literally bursting out of their bodies as I grow. Kills the shifter in a really messy way.
A great and gentle giant of a man took me under his wing after my mother died. Without him I wouldn't have been able to do all the things that I do now. With him, I spent my time mingling with the creatures of the night. Their lives were more exciting than that of regular humans. I also felt I had more in common with them.
Along the way, I taught myself to work with precious metals, and began, at the age of eight, to earn enough from my work to live on.
I purchased an old building in Highland Square, and renovated it over the years to suit my purposes. In it I created my inner sanctum, my favorite and most specialized room. Behind my building was a lovely courtyard that butted up against the backs of some of the businesses I sold to. My career was great.
My personal life kind of sucked. I didn't have a companion, a boyfriend, so to speak. And I was increasingly aware of a burning need to get one.
Oh, I made sure to get rid of my virginity as soon as I turned eighteen, with a human male. But that was two years ago, and the offers I'd had since, well—they weren't the kind of offers a girl like me wanted to accept.
So I set a new goal for myself. I would make an effort to meet more people, and keep an eye open for “the one".
In fact, I was so close to the end of my rope I decided to change that last goal from finding “the one", to finding “the one for tonight".
Chapter One
It was after ten, and I'd just made my final delivery for the evening. I glanced around the street as I exited the back door of the Quaker complex. It wasn't the other beings that bothered me so much as the bizarre humans that seemed to congregate in the area at this time of night.
By the time I'd reached my car, I'd gotten a delightful view of a wrinkled penis, and offers for several potential dates. Yeah, right. Like the guy taking a piss on the side of the building was the man of my dreams. The guy who'd passed out in his own vomit had been kind of cute, though.
I slammed my keys into the ignition of my aging Plymouth Volare, and left in a cloud of burning oil. I didn't drive often, so I couldn't see spending the money on a better piece of transportation.
As I pulled into my garage, my stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn't bothered to eat today. I closed the garage door behind me, and set out on foot for a bar on the other side of the courtyard that served decent food.
Once in the bar, I let my eyes adjust to the dim interior, and scanned the crowd as I made my way toward an empty stool at the bar. I nodded at several others that I recognized as I passed, too intent on filling my belly to stop and chat.
I'd just taken a huge bite of my cheeseburger when an enormous werewolf parked his ass on the stool next to mine.
"Can I buy you a drink?” Christ. Even the others used the same dull pick-up lines. It did not inspire me to accept a drink from this one. Especially since my doing so meant I'd sleep with him.
"I don't think so.” I sprayed some chewed-up beef at him while I spoke. So fucking what? Like I want to impress the guy?
He curled his lip at me, and moved on. I devoured the rest of my burger, and my fries; then concentrated on my beer. Hey, it might not be the classiest meal, but it suited me just fine.
Angel slid onto the stool next to me, his dark hair gleaming. He was the picture of absolute male beauty. He was also totally evil. It was easy to see how he'd come by the nickname “The Fallen Angel". Maybe he actually was.
"Haven't seen you in here for a while, Lise.” He rested his arms on the bar and, without having to do another thing, several drinks appeared before him.
"Angel.” He'd never bothered me, at least not since he'd killed me.
"I've got a friend that would like to meet you.” Angel's lips curved in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
I took another sip of my beer, then swiveled so I faced him.
"I've got better things to do than let your friends kill me for a lark."
"Ah, come on Lisa, it's been a while since you've been killed.” He turned his considerable charm on me. It wasn't going to change my answer; I knew him too well. Unfortunately, my body had no common sense, and my crotch sparked in response to his charm.
He was on me in a heartbeat, his fingers tangled in the hair at the back of my head, his hand on my back pushing my breasts against his chest as he captured my mouth with his. He was a master with his tongue, and I let him play inside my mouth for a while, at least until my panties were drenched, and my vagina was threatening to ignite.
When he let me up for air, I could see triumph in his eyes.
"I'll pass, Angel. Thanks for the offer though.” I turned away from him and took a healthy swallow of my beer.
I could tell when Angel decided to physically remove me from the bar, and I resigned myself to another senseless night where some idiot got off on killing me. Just before he made his move, an arm wrapped around my waist, and a large, familiar hand splayed across my stomach.
"Hey, babe. I'm sorry I'm late.” It was Ashur, an old and very dear friend of mine, but not my lover.
He treated me like one though, for Angel's benefit. It surprised me, and I frankly lost my head while he kissed me with a passion that felt more than real.
When he withdrew his lips from mine, I nearly followed him. He glanced at the stool where Angel had been sitting, then claimed it for himself.
"Is it me, or does Angel run from all your lovers?"
I shook myself, trying to calm the buzz that Ash had started in my blood. “Oh, it's definitely you. But speaking of lov..."
"Let me guess, Angel has a friend he wants to introduce you to.” Ash cut me off.
"Right the first time.” I accepted the beer he bought me. Hey, there were exceptions for friends, even if it wasn't the first thought that crossed my mind. “I guess it really pisses him off I didn't stay dead."
"Fuck him,” Ashur growled.
"I think I'll pass.” I wondered what Ashur would say if I told him I had an urge to fuck him? I shook my head, knowing it would never happen. I valued his friendship too much.
I turned around, leaned back against the bar, and scoped out the people.
"Who's the dark-haired guy over by the jukebox?"
"Devon, he's a werewolf. Not mated, by the way."
He was already hitting on some babe, so I let my gaze drift past him.
"How about that grim-looking blond shooting pool?"
"Vampire. Val Krendor. He wouldn't fuck a human if you paid him."
I almost snorted beer out my nose.
Ashur nudged my arm and pointed to a booth near the door. I took a look in that direction, and decided Ashur had pretty good taste.
"That one's available. He's a werepanther. Ever meet one of those?"
"Nope. Are they like werewolves?"
"Kind of, but more aggressive."
"O.K., I'll bite.” I turned my stool around and found another beer waiting for me on the bar.
Ashur went off to round up the unsuspecting panther while I sipped my brew and tried to look casual.
I actually jumped when Ashur's hand landed on my shoulder, so involved was I in fantasizing about the things I'd like a man to do to me.
Ashur laughed, a deep, throaty sound that always sped my heart up.
"Lisa, I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine."
I turned my stool around, and accidentally ended up caging his thighs between my legs. I was eye level with his chest, and a fine chest it was. His black t-shirt molded to the long, lean muscles like a lover. I let my gaze travel lower, kind of pissed that his shirt was looser across his stomach. My eyes flicked to his groin, and stuck. He had an enormous bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
Ashur elbowed me in the ribs, and I tore my gaze away from the panther's crotch. I knew my mouth dropped open when I looked into his eyes.
The man was gorgeous, in that rugged, totally masculine way. He had black hair and black eyes that had an exotic tilt to them, a straight nose, and lips that were begging to be kissed.
"Rafe, this is Lisa. Lisa, Rafe.” Ashur, feeling his job was done, walked away from us.
Rafe raised his hand to my face, and gently closed my jaw.
The touch of his fingers sent electricity through me, causing my nipples to tighten and my crotch to flood with moisture.
He slid his fingers around to the back of my neck, then leaned in close and smelled me.
"Ash is right. I like the way you smell.” His voice was a deep purr.
Don't ask me why, but most of the supes I knew used smell as much as sight. More so. I wasn't blessed with the ability to identify smells beyond the ordinary, but I was used to others smelling me all the time.
"Uh ... uh...” I was wondering how big his cock was, and what it would be like to fuck a panther. I didn't think either one of these were appropriate topics at the moment.
Rafe slid onto the stool that Ashur had vacated, and motioned to the bartender. He turned partially toward me and his thigh mashed up against mine. A jolt of awareness shot through me from the contact.
"Ash didn't tell me much about you. Did he at least tell you anything about me?"
God, I loved his eyes; there was a thin gold ring around the black of his iris.
"He told me you're a panther."
I lifted my mug to him, acknowledging he'd bought me the beer.
"Is Ash a—friend of yours?” He raised an eyebrow at the end of his question.
"He's my best friend.” I wanted to turn so I could look at him while we talked, but I was enjoying the feel of his thigh on my leg too much.
He solved my dilemma for me by grabbing my thigh and swiveling me to face him, his thighs now bracketing mine. Even better.
I wasn't sure I'd be capable of speech, though.
"Does he have any claims on you?"
"He's not my lover, if that's what you're asking. Hell, he's the one that introduced us."
"I'm just curious.” His gaze roamed down my body, and flames erupted on my skin in its wake. He leaned forward, placing his lips next to my ear, and I forgot how to breathe.
"He must know that—sex with a panther can be—lethal.” His hand had ventured toward my crotch while he spoke.
I whispered back to him. “Guess he really didn't tell you anything about me."
Rafe sat back, his expression questioning.
I crossed my fingers, hoping this guy wouldn't turn out to be overly fascinated with my death. I let the question hang in the air, as I considered. I picked up my beer and took a slow drink from it.
I could feel his body start to vibrate with his growing tension.
"Are you going to tell me?” He bit his words off, and I could tell I was pushing some panther button that I probably shouldn't push.
"I'm kind of tired of guys who find out about me, then consider me a challenge."
Interest sparked in his eyes. Well, what did I expect with my mysterious declaration?
"I don't stay dead.” There. It was out in the open.
"What does that mean?” He leaned closer to me, the heat of his body warming mine.
"It means it doesn't matter if you kill me. I won't stay dead. I come back."
The look of incredulity that crossed his face was familiar to me.
"You're kidding."
"Like that's something I'd kid about."
"You've been killed before?"
"Several times."
"How many?"
Shit, I didn't remember anymore, it had happened so often.
"I quit counting after a couple of dozen times.” I shrugged. It wasn't like it was a big deal to me.
I grew uncomfortable under the intensity of his scrutiny, though, after I'd made that comment.
Then he leaned in to whisper in my ear again, his hand cupping my crotch. I was certain he could feel the dampness that had undoubtedly soaked through by now.
"Last question. Are you a virgin?"
I snorted. Not that I had a lot of room to snort; I'd just never been asked the question before and it struck me as funny.
"No, but I'm not far from being one.” I didn't want the guy to think I knew a lot about having sex, only to disappoint him with my lack of knowledge later.
He was off his stool and reaching for my hand. I slapped my mug on the bar, and reached for his. He wrapped his hand around my wrist, and pulled me off my stool.
"Let's go."
He scanned the other patrons as he dragged me to the door.
I checked out his ass and legs. Tight ass, lean, muscular legs. He moved with a fluid grace that mesmerized me. Heated me. I was nearly drooling by the time we hit the door.
"Where do you live?” He'd stopped, and was looking down at me, his face cast in shadow.
"Just across the courtyard.” I pointed across the street toward my building.
I had trouble keeping up with his long strides as he hustled me to my house.
"It's the brick building over there.” I pointed again. “We need to go around to the front."
As much as I wanted to get inside with this guy, I still intended to take him through my precautionary measures.
We got to the front door, and I placed my palm on the reader. When the light blinked green, I entered my code. It didn't matter if he watched me; he needed both my palm print and the code before the door would open.
The entryway of my place, from this door had been designed by Ashur. Not onl
y did it let him know who had passed through the door, it somehow gave him intimate details of the person.
Once inside, I guided him to the spiral stairs that led to my studio, and sanctuary.
He stopped and looked around my studio, taking in the glass walls and the skylights.
"Must not get many vamps visiting.” He took a closer look at some of my equipment. “What do you do here?"
"This is my studio. I make jewelry, and other things with metals."
I'd moved us across the studio to the sally port. I placed my hand against the reader, and again typed in a code. The first set of doors opened and I ushered Rafe inside. When the doors closed behind us, trapping us in the small confining space, he kind of glared at me.
"What the hell is this?"
"It's a safeguard for me, as well as those vamps you mentioned earlier. Beyond the next set of doors is my secure living area. Sort of a master bedroom with extras."
We passed through the next set of doors into a large room that served as a bedroom, kitchen, and living room combination. It had a fireplace with a couch and chairs grouped around it, and a full kitchen with a small dining area.
The focal point, however, was the immense four-poster bed on the far side of the room. Beyond this room was a hedonist's bathroom, but I figured he could see that later.
The far wall of the room, the one that overlooked the courtyard, boasted a huge flat monitor that was currently showing the courtyard beyond.
"This room has been tested safe for all the others I'd be likely to bring up here,” I explained to Rafe.
"Did Ash help you do this?” Rafe wandered through the room. “Why doesn't he keep you for himself?” It seemed to me he was asking himself the question, so I didn't bother answering him. I didn't have an answer anyway; I'd wondered the same thing myself.
Apparently satisfied with the room, he turned his attention to me. My heart stopped, then beat wildly as he stalked across the room, his expression dark, an aura of power radiating about him. He wrapped his arms around me, and lifted me off my feet for a kiss.
I slung my legs around his waist, and let myself go. I was so caught up in the taste of his lips, the feel of his tongue, it took me a moment to realize he'd moved us to the bed, and had begun undressing me.
