Supernatural Bundle

by Jacquelyn Frank

  “This is a dangerous thing you ask of me, master. The vampire is certain to be protecting the vessel. I risk more than just my life.”

  Rafael struggled to hide his disdain for the man who would barter for power rather than earn it. Unfortunately, he possessed no other servants willing to call upon powers forbidden by even the Prince.

  Sacrifices must be made, he reluctantly acknowledged.

  Even if it meant being in league with such a pathetic fool.

  “So you wish to know your reward?” he demanded in cold tones.

  “I am a practical man.”

  Sacrifices.

  Rafael grimly maintained his composure. “I shall personally take charge of your training. You wish to earn your medallion before all others? I can give you that.”

  The smile widened. “And a share of the Prince’s gratitude?”

  Rafael briefly glanced down at his hands, imagining them around the greedy Amil’s neck. Then he gave a small shake of his head.

  The future was poised upon the night ahead. He had to do whatever was necessary to ensure the return of his master.

  “So be it.”

  The younger man rose to his feet, satisfaction engraved upon the narrow features.

  “Then we have a bargain.”

  Rafael also rose, his own countenance as hard and dark as the stone walls.

  “Amil, do not fail me. You have already faced death. If I discover you were unable to complete this task I set for you, then death will be the least of your worries. Do you understand?”

  The apprentice possessed the sense to pale at the threat. “Yes.”

  Rafael waved an impatient hand. “Then go. You have much to do before the sun sets and the vampire is at his full strength.”

  Amil slipped from the room, and Rafael turned to pace toward the fire that burned in the center of the floor.

  The Dark Prince would soon be returned to his place of glory.

  And he would be leading the way.

  “Soon, my lord,” he whispered.

  Chapter 6

  It was some hours later when Abby stirred from her deep, thankfully dreamless sleep. Lifting her heavy lids, she was at first befuddled by the feel of satin sheets brushing her skin and the shadows that filled the vast room.

  She was not the sort of girl who woke up in strange rooms. Certainly not those with satin sheets and an echo that could rival St. Paul’s Cathedral.

  Still, it was better than the lumpy mattress and foul stench that had greeted her last time she awoke, she wryly told herself. And with the added benefit of a pair of delicious male arms wrapped about her.

  Not a bad way to awaken.

  At least it wouldn’t be if those rotten memories of demons, witches, and being invaded by a powerful spirit didn’t come crashing back.

  Grimacing, Abby rolled onto her side to study the man who slept next to her.

  No, not man, she fiercely reminded herself. Vampire.

  Studying the wickedly perfect features in the dim light, it seemed impossible that she hadn’t guessed the truth before. He was every woman’s fantasy. Life had taught her that there had to be a catch somewhere.

  Her lips twitched. All women knew that the sort of men who could steal a woman’s heart with a glance had to be either gay, psychotic, or married. Now she supposed she would have to add vampire to the list.

  Barely aware of what she did, Abby silently lifted the duvet to reveal the lean, muscular form. Although the jeans rather disappointingly remained, he had removed his silk shirt to reveal a chest that was just as lethally beautiful as she had imagined in her heated dreams. It was broad and smooth with enough chiseled muscles to satisfy the most demanding woman. Lordy, it virtually begged to be stroked.

  And thankfully there were no odd bumps or scales that plagued other demons. Not even a tattoo marred the alabaster skin.

  “Good morning, lover,” a husky voice abruptly intruded into the silence.

  Jerking her head up, Abby took in the slit of silver glittering beneath the heavy black lashes.

  Well, this was embarrassing.

  It was one thing to walk about with toilet paper stuck to her shoe. Or have lipstick on her teeth. Or even to destroy a priceless Ming vase.

  But to be caught openly leering at a half-naked man while he slept . . .

  It was downright lewd.

  She abruptly dropped the duvet as if it might scorch her fingers.

  “I . . . didn’t realize that you were awake,” she managed to croak.

  “I may be dead, but not even I can sleep while a beautiful woman ogles me.” His lips curved in a sardonic smile. “Tell me, sweet, what were you searching for? A horn and tail?”

  The very fact that she had possessed a furtive need to assure herself he didn’t have any peculiar oddities made her instantly defensive.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Ah, then you were planning to take advantage of me while I slept, eh? Twisted, but I like it.”

  “No . . . I . . .” She wrinkled her nose, accepting that she had been well and truly caught. What was left but to admit the truth? “I suppose I was curious. You seem so . . . normal.”

  He stiffened at her reluctant confession. “You mean human?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you disappointed or relieved?”

  She gave a faint shrug. “After Halford and the hellhounds, I’ll have to admit to some relief.”

  Without warning, she discovered herself rolled onto her back with Dante looming above her, his hands planted on either side of her head.

  “Perhaps I don’t possess three eyes or have acid dripping from my fangs,” he said, his beautiful features unexpectedly somber, “but you should never make the mistake of pretending that I’m human. I am a vampire, Abby, not a man.”

  Her heart stuttered as she stared at the dangerous warrior poised above her. Suddenly he did appear far from human. He was coiled, elegant death that held her life in his hands.

  “What are you saying?” she whispered. “That I can’t trust you?”

  The raven brows snapped together. “Of course you can trust me. I will die before I ever allow anything to harm you.”

  “Then what?”

  “I just don’t want you to try and pretend that I’m something that I’m not.” His metallic gaze pierced deep into her eyes. “It will only prove painful to both of us.”

  Pretend that he was not a vampire? Holy hell, what was he babbling about? She might pretend that eating a hot fudge sundae was a balanced meal as long as it had peanuts and whipped cream on top. Or that Johnny Depp was her true soul mate if only he would take the time to get to know her.

  But the fact that this man was not a vampire?

  Ha.

  Oddly, however, as she opened her mouth to inform him that he was off his rocker, she abruptly hesitated.

  Rats. Could she honestly say that she hadn’t at times during the past few hours attempted to forget the truth of Dante? Times such as during his tender seduction in the bathtub? And when she had clung to him in the dark as if he were her guardian angel?

  It was certainly her stock and trade to ignore what she didn’t want to see.

  Lowering her lashes, she battled a ridiculous urge to blush. “We should be getting up.”

  “Abby, please don’t shut me out,” he said, his voice softening to a dark, pleasant rasp that feathered down her spine. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just . . .”

  Against her will, her eyes lifted to clash with his silver gaze. “Just what?”

  “I want you to know me for who and what I am, not as some sugar-and-spice image of what you wish I could be.”

  “I saw you fight that demon, Dante. I know what you are.”

  Surprisingly he grimaced in the dusky shadows. “No, you don’t, but you will before all this is said and done. And that’s what I fear.”

  Suddenly Abby understood. This was about more than just her uncertain opinion of vampires. It was about faith
. Trust. In him.

  “We both know I would already be dead if you were a human. I’d be a hypocrite to wish you to be anything but what you are,” she admitted, a reluctant smile touching her lips. “Besides, my record with men of the human species doesn’t precisely make me anxious to be saddled with one for an eternity.”

  His features thankfully softened at her rueful confession. “No knights in shining armor?”

  “Knights? More like mooks.”

  “Mooks?”

  “Well, my last boyfriend dumped me for our mailman, and I do mean mailman, and the one before him stuck around just long enough to steal my ATM code so he could clear out my savings account.”

  “Worthless vermin.” He narrowed his gaze.

  “Unbelievably they were an improvement to my first boyfriend, who thought the best way to end an argument was with his fists.”

  There was a stark silence as he studied her face. “He hit you?”

  “Only once. I at least learn from my stupidity.”

  “Do you want me to kill him?”

  Abby blinked, not at all certain he was teasing. “Ah . . . well . . . a tempting offer, of course, but I suppose I should pass.”

  He shrugged. “It’s an open-ended offer if you change your mind.”

  “Actually, I prefer to simply forget they ever existed,” she assured him.

  “A solution of sorts.” His gaze swept down to the fullness of her lips before lifting. “But do you think it wise?”

  Abby frowned. Surely to God she was not about to receive dating advice from a half-naked vampire who just happened to be perched on top of her?

  A deliciously sexy half-naked vampire.

  “I would say it’s at least wiser than having them eaten,” she forced herself to mutter.

  “I only wonder if you truly have learned from your mistakes,” he said.

  “I’ve learned that I have rotten judgment when it comes to men.”

  “Or you seek out those who are destined to disappoint you so that you needn’t worry about an emotional attachment.”

  “Oh God, please don’t turn Dr. Phil on me,” she grumped, not at all in the mood to consider he might be right. “The last thing I need is to be psychoanalyzed by a vampire.”

  He arched a raven brow. “It is the fact that I am a vampire that gives me some insight. You don’t live among humans for four centuries without learning something of their peculiar habits.”

  “Well, you don’t know anything about me.”

  “No?” His lips curled in a faint smile. “I know that you hate onions and tuna fish, that you consume your weight in chocolate every day without ever gaining a pound, and that you need a recipe to boil water. I know that you pretend to enjoy classical music but change the radio station to punk rock when you think no one is around. I also know that you hide yourself from the world and that you’re lonely. You have always been lonely.”

  Abby dutifully tried to breathe. Unfortunately her lungs refused to cooperate.

  Damn him. It was one thing for her to have spent the past three months watching him with covert fascination. After all, she had discovered nothing more intimate than the fact that he was shamefully gorgeous and possessed a haunting skill upon the piano. To think that he had seen so easily through her carefully erected barriers was more than a little unnerving.

  “Fine,” she muttered. “I have intimacy issues. Yadda, yadda. Now, can we get up?”

  His smile only widened. “There is no hurry. The sun is just now setting.”

  “Well, you could use a bit of sun,” she informed him dryly. “You are very pale.”

  “You would see me a pile of ashes, eh?” The silver eyes smoldered with a sudden fire. “And how would I protect you if—”

  Mesmerized by his dark honey voice and the promise that softened his features, Abby very nearly missed the shadow that slowly rose up behind the raven head. But when it shifted and neared, her eyes widened and a scream ripped from her throat.

  “No!”

  Distracted by the sharp lust that so readily consumed him when this woman was near, Dante was unprepared when Abby’s scream ripped through the air and she shoved herself upright.

  Tossed onto his back, it took a moment to struggle with the blankets wrapped about him. A moment too long as Abby surged from the mattress and attacked the looming form.

  “Abby, no,” he commanded, flowing upright in a belated attempt to halt her impetuous assault.

  He caught no more than a glimpse of a human male before she was shoving the intruder away from the bed and they both tumbled onto the floor. In a heartbeat, or what would be a heartbeat if he were anything but a vampire, Dante was lifting Abby away and crouching beside the unmoving body.

  “Hold, lover, he is dead,” he murmured, his gaze swiftly taking in the rotting black suit and gaunt hand that still clutched a wooden stake. A vampire assassin. “For the second time, if I don’t miss my guess.”

  Holding on to her towel with the grip of death, Abby regarded the still form with revulsion. Not much of a surprise. Being attacked by a decomposing corpse tended to be a once-in-a-lifetime event.

  “My God, what is it?”

  “An abomination.”

  “What?”

  “A zombie.” His voice was edged with disgust. Even among the demon world, the use of such magics was condemned. To disturb the realm of the underworld was sacrilege. “A dead shell animated by powerful magic. More magic than most demons possess. It isn’t alive or dead, which explains why I didn’t sense it and how it managed to slip through Viper’s spell of protection.”

  “Zombies.” Abby gave a short, near-hysterical laugh. “Great. Just great. Now all we need are a few mummies and a werewolf to complete our official Hoyle deck of monsters.”

  Dante reached out to touch the cold body that had spilled face-first on the carpet. “Abby, I need you to tell me what happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After you saw the zombie, what did you do?”

  He sensed her shift uneasily at his probing. “You were here. You know what happened.”

  Dante lifted his head to meet her bewildered frown. She was still in shock from the unexpected violence, but at the moment he couldn’t comfort her as he desired. It was imperative that he discover all he could of this latest threat.

  “Please, Abby, tell me exactly what you did.”

  “What does it matter?” She gave a shiver. “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

  “As dead as Elvis on this occasion. The question is why he is dead.”

  “Well, it might have something to do with that gaping hole in his head.”

  “No, that killed him the first time. When he entered the room, he was animated by magic, not a heartbeat. Nothing could have killed him but fire, preferably of the mystic variety.”

  “Fire?” She gave a shake of her head. “All I did was push him.”

  Rolling over the body, Dante jerked open the formal white shirt the poor soul had been buried in. In the shadowed light, the decay of the chest was hardly visible, but there was no mistaking the deep burns that were in the perfect shape of two hands.

  Abby’s hands.

  “That was quite a push, lover,” he murmured.

  She made a sound deep in her throat as she hastily backed away in horror. “Are you saying that I did that?”

  The tight distress in her voice had Dante uncoiling to move directly before her, conveniently blocking out the nasty sight of the corpse.

  “I’m saying that you saved me,” he informed her sternly. “If you hadn’t stopped Undead Walking there, I would be showered over you in a very unflattering shade of ash.”

  “But how?” she whispered. “How could I do something like that?”

  His hands moved to her shoulders to stroke them in a soothing motion. “I did tell you that the Phoenix would find ways to protect itself. There’s nothing to be frightened of, Abby.”

  The brilliant blue eyes flashed with a barely suppr
essed emotion. “I just burned huge holes in that . . . thing without even knowing what I was doing.”

  “You were protecting yourself. And thankfully me in the bargain.”

  She lifted her hands to stare at them as if they were foreign objects. “But I don’t even know how I did it.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters,” she retorted in sharp tones. “I’ve seen Firestarter. Do you think I want to be some freaking human torch?”

  Dante was swift to smother his flare of humor at her fears. For all her courage, Abby was hanging by a thin thread.

  “Lover, calm down. You aren’t a human torch.” Gently he reached for one of her hands and placed it to the center of his chest. Sharp, smoldering heat flared through him at her touch, but it had nothing to do with the power of the Phoenix. “See?”

  “But . . .”

  “Abby.” He rested his forehead upon her own, squeezing her fingers in silent comfort. “It’s no different than your ability to stop a man with a wellaimed kick or using those nails as lethal weapons. It’s just another tool. One that might very well keep you alive.”

  She remained stiff in his arms for a long moment, and then at last she gave a tearful chuckle. “Is there anything that ever bothers you?”

  Pulling back, Dante traced the lone tear that ran down her cheek. “This bothers me. It makes me ache deep inside.”

  “Dante.”

  The vulnerability that softened her features was Dante’s undoing. Before he could resist, his head was lowering to capture her lips in a soft kiss that shimmered through his very bones.

  Slowly he tightened his arms about her shaking body, needing to comfort her in the only means possible. Bloody hell, he wanted to sweep her away from this devil-infested mess. An impossible desire, of course. Until they found the witches, all he could do was try to protect her and hope that she could endure the terrors yet to come.

  Stroking his lips over her cheeks and down the length of her jaw, he patiently whispered words of encouragement until he sensed her trembling lessen.

  “Abby, my love,” he at last murmured, pulling back to meet her shadowed gaze. “We can no longer remain here. I think we should gather our things and prepare to leave. We don’t know how many other zombies might be lurking about.”