She slapped his hand as he reached for her. “You forgot the part where you say, ‘I’m not a vampire and this is just a game to me.’ Say it!”
“I am a vampire.” For added effect, he opened his mouth as his fangs came gracefully to their full length. He hissed as he let his eyes go completely ruby. “I. Am. A. Vampire.”
Before he could blink, she was beating at his chest and screaming, “I told you not to do that anymore.”
He captured her waist and brought her flush against his naked skin, letting her continue her abuse. “I want to make love to you, Angelica. I burn with need for you.”
“Why me?”
He held her gently, his arms not restraining her, yet she stayed. He could not answer her question. For the life of him, he didn’t know the answer. He was acting on instinct, wasn’t he? It was the Mating Rite, wasn’t it? He knew he wanted her, that the beast wanted her.
Her hands worked up his chest and went to his shoulders. “I’m not going to have sex with you. I’m not.”
He nodded and grinned as her leg lifted and rubbed along his thigh. “Of course you’re not going to.” Her arousal was a kaleidoscope of scents — musk and ocean storms, passion and need, fire and ice. “I need you right now, right here.”
He groaned as her hands worked into his hair and she tilted her head back, her eyes half-mast and her pink tongue running across her lips. It was the perfect invitation. He dropped his head to take full possession of those lips and taste that wicked little tongue of hers.
And then his cell rang. The blare of Metallica’s “Sandman” made him groan. The sound echoed in the room, and she jumped. Dazed, she jerked out of his arms and practically ran across the room. “Don’t you think you’d better get that?”
Growling with the pain of his erection, he went to the bed and grabbed the offending piece of metal and plastic, plastering it to his ear. “What?”
Alexander’s voice sent hot coals over his ears. “Get to the damn park. There’s too many of them. I’ve counted at least forty.”
Angelica kept her distance throwing daggers at him with her eyes. Varick growled under his breath as he turned to stare at her. Listening to the voice on the cell, he narrowed his eyes. Angelica frowned, and he almost laughed as the thought occurred to her to flip him off but she knew that was ridiculous. Childish as it was, she did it anyway.
He raised one eyebrow and grinned. Bowing slightly, he murmured, “Your wish is my command.”
“Shut up!” She pointed to his cell. “Don’t you have something better to do than annoy me?”
He grunted, said, “I don’t have time for this right now.”
“Make time. Vampires are your forte, not mine.” Gunshots echoed in the background. “Gods above, they’re everywhere.”
Watching Angelica as she paced the floor, he tried to breathe steady. The beast roared in his mind, slamming against his brain demanding to be released. He shut his eyes, tried to ignore the pulse in his fangs.
A vicious roar vibrated through his cell. “Put your dick on hold. You’re a Destroyer, act like one.”
“Screw you, Alexander. You wanted me to take care of my little problem. I could if you’d leave me the hell alone.”
“The sooner you get here, the sooner you can take care of your shit.”
Varick wanted to scream. He turned to Angelica, closed the cell, and tossed it on the bed. “We’ll have to postpone our current engagement. I have work to do.”
• • •
Angelica shut her eyes, covered her breasts and huffed as she heard clothing rustling. When she opened her eyes to unleash her tongue on him again, he was gone.
She cursed rather loudly. Just how the hell had he gotten through that damn door?
Chapter 21
Angelica was lost in complete surrender as he lifted her from the floor and carried her to the bed. He eased her down onto her back and placed his knee between her legs. The soft hair on his leg stimulated her desire, making her arch her back. She cried out as he ran his hand down her stomach and bit her nipple. His hand ventured farther down, and he growled as he ran his fingertips into her core. She was hot as liquid fire, his body smooth as silk as he worked her core.
“Angel. I cannot wait any longer. I must have you.” His words were deep and soft as he lowered himself on top of her body. “Come for me, Angelica, come for me.”
His fingers were creating a sublime heat from her toes to the top of her head. She groaned and caught his hair, bringing it to her nose. He smelled feral, a wild animal needing to be petted. Oh, and she so wanted to pet him, touch him, run her hands over each delectable inch of his utterly perfect body.
He settled between her thighs, his weight pushing down onto her, into her. She growled with pleasure as his palms cupped her breasts. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she locked her ankles and arched under him.
“Tell me, Angel, tell me you want this.” He licked her bottom lip and sucked on it as his fingertips rolled across her nipples. “Tell me you want me.”
As he rocked against her, she screamed, “Yes, I want you!”
He reared back, his fangs gleaming, red eyes glowing, and roared as he plunged into her body. It was heaven, the perfect bliss. There was nothing to compare to the way his hot body felt against hers. It was almost more bliss than she could bear.
Angelica surfaced from the dream and jackknifed from the bed like it was ablaze. She was alone, the room lighting as she moved. She tried to steady her erratic breathing and focused on the flicker of the flames in the fireplace.
Minutes, maybe hours passed as she calmed, as she forced the dream from her mind. She turned on her heel and inspected the room warily.
Where the hell was he? Right, he’d gotten a phone call and, when she had turned around, he was gone.
And why the hell was she so desperate to see him again? She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She was supposed to hate the man who was keeping her imprisoned. Hate him, she told herself.
Yeah, right, like she could hate a man who made her insides melt. He might just be crazy and a freak, but her body sure didn’t have a problem with that. Vampire? He wasn’t a vampire. He was just a loon, a gorgeous loon.
“He’s not a vampire. He does not suck blood.” She said it out loud so she could hear it. “He’s not a vampire. Vampires don’t exist.”
She whirled around as a cold breeze slid up her spine. “Yes, I am and yes, I do.”
Varick stood inches in front of her. “How did … Where did … ”
“I am a vampire, Angelica.” He spoke again, the tips of his fangs gleaming in the light. “Part vampire, anyway.”
She shook her head. “No, you aren’t. You’re sick in the head. You need professional help, buddy boy, and I strongly suggest you go find some real soon.”
He barked a laugh and turned to the fireplace. “It’s drawing closer. I don’t know how much longer I can deny the beast inside of me.”
She slapped his shoulder and glared at his back. “Stop it. You’re not scaring me, so just freaking stop it already.”
He shrugged and smiled at her over his shoulder.
“Don’t grin, don’t smile, and don’t you dare speak. As a matter of fact, don’t do anything with your mouth until the fangs are gone.” Her tone was even, unshakable.
He was still smiling as she sat down in the same chair that she had stubbed her toe on. “I’m hungry. Please tell me you aren’t going to starve me as well as keep me prisoner.”
His smile broadened, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Well?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you?”
He shook his head, leaned down, and pulled her onto her feet and into his arms. “Tell me what you want to eat, and I will scour the darkest and most dangerous corners of the world to ge
t it.”
“I told you not to open your mouth.” She sighed. “I want you to let me go.”
He frowned. “I can’t do that.”
Her stomach rumbled. “Fine. I need food, sometime today, if you don’t mind.”
“I will return shortly.”
Yet, he stayed. His arms still held her to his chest. His fingers were doing the most awesome things to her shoulders and back. She wanted to melt into his arms, give as well as receive, but instead she made her body stiffen, resisting the urges that seemed so natural.
Hoping he would listen, she whispered, “Listen, I really am hungry.”
Pulling away, Varick granted her a delicious, devilish smile. He bowed and vanished. Angelica dropped to her knees, her hand covering the scream that had risen to the back of her throat. It was a trick, an illusion! It had to be.
With wide eyes, she leaned forward, running her hand through the air where he had been standing. Nothing. Just empty space.
Scrambling to her feet, she searched the room frantically. No mirrors, no hidden doors, no frigging stairs. What the hell was this room, a damn coffin? Her knees shook violently under her weight.
“Oh, hell, no!” She made her way to the chair by his bed and slowly sat down, letting her body slump into the curved back. “Come on, there is no freaking way this is real. I’m dreaming.”
Angelica stood, scanning the room again. No refrigerator, no cabinets, no stove, no necessities of life other than the bed and the bathroom. Frowning, she went to the center of the room and took a deep breath. True, the bed had a purpose. But the room itself was cold and empty. Lifeless.
She looked down at her bare feet and signed. At least the carpet was plush, soft as kitten fur. And warm? She leaned down and ran her fingers through its thickness. Yes, it was warm, almost like heat was rising upwards. She stood and shook her head. It didn’t make sense that the floor was so utterly warm and the air just above it was cold.
She shivered. What the hell had she gotten into?
The fact Varick had fangs, his room was cold and lifeless, and his little vanishing act were all scaring her. And he thought he was a freaking vampire. And he had literally kidnapped her, holding her hostage. And there was no way she was going to believe he was some cold, undead creature that stalked the night looking for people to feed on.
Instantly, she crumpled to the floor and screamed. Since she had taken the waitress job, she had become surrounded by insane people. Why, of all the men on Earth that were nuts, did he have to be?
Forcing herself to stand, she went to the bed and sat down. Aimlessly, she tried to open the drawer of the night stand. It was locked. Her anger spiked. Shoving with all her might, the stand tipped over, the lock broke and the drawer slid out. Varick’s book landed face down.
Feeling like a fool, she went to her knees and reached for the book. The glint of metal caught her eyes and she reached into the drawer. A black combat knife and a Smith & Wesson 952 were inside.
Angelica squared her shoulders and wiped away her tears. Did he expect to come back and find his little helpless victim scared and utterly at his will? She looked at the gun and laughed. Well, if that was what he was expecting, he was so very wrong.
• • •
Varick glided down to the ground, stepping lightly onto the awaiting asphalt. His body hummed, his bones vibrating. His only thought, Angelica needed food. She needed him to get her food. Even though her need for him was by his own doing, she still needed him, had asked for his assistance in obtaining it.
He ran his fingers through his hair. He had kidnapped her. He had scared the crap out of her. And he had laughed at her in her distress. Three strikes usually meant you were out, didn’t it? Well, perhaps he could make it up to her by bringing back something good to eat.
He looked down the street and idly wondered what she would like to eat. He had never considered it before, hadn’t asked. She had ordered a grilled chicken salad on their date. Would she like to have another one or something different? Did she eat the same thing every day? In all his years as a Destroyer, he had never taken the time to find out such frivolous things about humans. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so frivolous. She was hungry.
Stopping in front of a restaurant, he glanced into the window and watched a trio of women eat. They each had something different, a salad, a baked potato, and a bowl of stew.
He shrugged and entered the restaurant. He heard several gasps and breathless ohs as he made his way to the counter. The older, robust female behind the counter smiled.
“How can I help you?”
He frowned as he looked up at the list of what they offered. He decided there were too many choices. “Would you prefer salads or cheeseburgers? French fries or baked potatoes?”
“Excuse me?” The woman smiled again, her eyes growing two shades darker as she devoured his appearance. “Salads and baked potatoes. A girl has to watch her figure.”
His frown deepened. “Angelica has a perfect figure and needs not watch it. She is hungry, and I need to know what to buy her.”
The woman, whose nametag read Mabel, shrugged. “Lucky girl.”
Varick strummed the counter with his fingers. Cursing under his breath, trying not to hear the women’s thoughts, he muttered, “I need some vodka.”
Mable laughed. “Well, honey, you’re in the wrong place for vodka.”
A flush brightened his cheeks. “Give me one of everything you have.”
Mable’s eyes widened. “One of everything?”
“Yes, and make it quick.” He pointed to the chocolate cake at the end of the counter. “And some of that too.”
As Mabel gave the order to the man behind the small window, she looked over her shoulder. “So, this lucky girl having cravings?”
Varick leaned against the counter. “What do you mean?”
As the woman mumbled and talked on, Varick stepped back and growled low in his throat. The pull on his blood was suddenly strong, stronger than it had ever been. He fished out his wallet and threw a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. He could feel Zena’s presence and she was close and he sure didn’t mean Underworld close.
Varick went to the door, his blood pounding in his veins. “I will be back shortly. Please have everything ready to go.”
Mable turned and before she could say anything, he was out the door in a dead run.
He misted into the night, Zena’s presence closing in around him tighter and more accurately than ever before. He followed the pull to the far side of Fether, along the shoreline to a hidden part of the beach.
Chapter 22
Varick hit the beach, his combat boots skidding to a stop. Zena’s stench was everywhere. It was the smell of death, and it hung heavy in the air as he pulled his trench coat off and slung it across a Keep Out sign.
“Varick.” The charm of her voice was intoxicating, demanding. “I have waited for this day.”
He turned on his heel, searching the beach. Dozens of vampires crawled along the sand, hiding in the shadows. It was unusual for them not to attack. Her voice filtered into his mind, mesmerizing.
“You cannot resist me. Come to me. Come to me, Varick.”
He turned, fighting the heavy compulsion in her voice, fighting the beast under his skin. “Zena. What brings your nasty ass to the surface?”
She laughed. “Why, you, of course.”
He chuckled as his swords appeared in his hands. “Tired of me taking your minions out of existence?”
The wind howled furiously around him as she spoke with rage. “You’re part vampire! How can you destroy that which you are?”
His fangs punched out. “How can I not?”
“I am your mistress. You will no longer defy me.”
He bowed slightly. “Sorry to burst your little bubble, Zena, but I f
aithfully follow Gyth.” His eyes gleamed with the taunt.
Sand blasted against his back as she misted to her human form. He struggled not to fall to his knees. She was beautiful, a goddess of the Underworld, and she reminded him strangely of his mother.
“Don’t you dare speak that name to me.” Her fangs were long, sharp, and perfect. “His name is not worthy of my ears.”
He circled her. “Now, Zena, why would you call out to a Destroyer? That’s not a smart move on your part. Then again, Gyth has warned us the gods and the goddesses of the Underworld are not as intelligent as the heavenly ones.”
He watched as her anger rose to a volatile level — just what he wanted. “But then again, there is the possibility that Gyth is biased.”
“Gyth is an idiot, a selfish dog that needs to be neutered and skinned alive.” She watched him out of her black eyes and hissed as he laughed at her comment. “Make no mistake, Varick, he’ll get what is coming to him.”
Varick listened as she ranted and raved about Gyth. All the while, he assessed her little horde. They had worked themselves closer, compelled by her voice. They writhed on the sand and groaned with each word that poured out of her ruby red lips.
He gripped his swords as he stopped and turned to her. Gritting his teeth, he refrained from giving in to that melodious voice, that soft, urgent, underlying message that beckoned to him like a flame to a moth. Promises of sweet surrender and insurmountable pleasures rushed him like a ragged blade. Even as his body stepped toward hers against his will, he reminded himself death was but a bittersweet dream that had always escaped him.
“That’s it. Come to me.” Her lithe, agile body swayed to unheard music, her fingers dancing in the air as if she commanded the orchestra of his mind. “I am your queen, your mistress.”
Varick roared to the Heavens as he fell to his knees and stared into the fathomless black pits of her eyes. “No!”
“Yes, I am your queen. I’ll have my revenge. I will have you, Varick, and Gyth will feel this loss as I once did. He will pay for taking my daughter, Vicery Beth, from me, and he will pay for her death. She was everything to me, my flesh, my blood. He took her from me, stole her and disappeared.” She groaned as he tried to stand, her powers over him waning as he struggled. “I’ll own you, Destroyer, and you will do as I command. You’ll kill him for me. You will carve my name on his forehead so he’ll know I won you.”
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