by Bianca D'Arc
“It thought your kind didn’t like weres.”
He sipped his wine before answering. “It’s not that we don’t like you. It’s more that we don’t like how resistant you are to our power. Bad blood in the past has made all the various supernaturals distrust each other over the centuries. Yet I have a feeling that will soon come to an end.”
She was shocked. “Why?”
He shrugged. “You’re a loner so you probably haven’t heard. There are certain bad elements returning after many generations. I was around the last time we fought them, and we all worked together. Seems to me we might have to do so again.”
“What are you talking about?”
He shook his head in the negative. “Not here. No matter how good your hearing, there may be others listening as well. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you in private.”
“I want to know.” This was her chance. Even if he was leading her into some kind of weird vamp trap, she needed to get close to him. That was her mission and she wouldn’t shrink from it. She was also curious about his hinted knowledge. She really was a lone wolf. She hadn’t had interaction with her own kind in a long time. If there was something going on in the supernatural world, she didn’t trust her contacts in the Altor Custodis to tell her. They were too damned secretive and their policy of non-interference went way too far in her opinion. She’d like to know what Dante thought he knew.
“All right then. Later.” He drained his glass of wine and set it on the bar. “For now, will you dance with me?”
She noted the sudden change from house music to a slower tempo that allowed couples to move close. His influence again? She had little doubt such was the case. Lowering her half-finished drink to the bar, she took his hand and felt an immediate awareness of him shoot through her skin. It tingled where they touched, sparking with magical energy. It didn’t hurt. It felt more like tiny bubbles popping against her skin. Almost tickling and definitely happy.
It was a strange, unexpected sensation. It was as if their bodies recognized each other.
He took her in his arms, and it was as if they’d been made to fit together. Their bodies moved in rhythm to the slower music, his strength countering hers in a way she’d never experienced. As a werewolf, Megan was stronger than most human males. As a lone wolf, she’d never really consorted with her kind. She’d never been this close to a vampire before and taken all together, she’d never felt so feminine or sheltered in any man’s embrace.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his strong body against her. For just a moment, she let thoughts of her mission and the debt of honor owed by her family fade from her mind. She let herself revel in the feel of him and the way his strength complemented her own.
And he was one hell of a dancer. She never danced much, but as a wolf-shifter, she had a certain amount of natural agility. She followed his lead with pleasure, liking the way he commanded her movements with a sureness she was unused to encountering in the human males she’d dated from time to time.
“You’re very good,” she whispered, trying to suppress the growl of pleasure that wanted to issue from her throat.
Dante laughed low, his breath whispering past her ear in a way that made her shiver. “So I’ve been told.”
“I meant you’re a good dancer.” She pulled back to meet his gaze, grinning in what she hoped was an inviting way. Banter was good. He was responding well to her flirting. So far, her mission was on track.
“Once upon a time a man’s status in life was judged on such things as how well he danced.”
That comment took her aback. This man—this vampire—had lived for centuries. He must have seen and done a lot of things she could only dream of in those many years.
“You’re an old one then?” She had to play coy. He couldn’t know that she already knew his background—at least as much as the Altor Custodis file about him contained.
“Old enough to remember when the waltz was considered a scandalous dance. And now look at us.” He chuckled as his gaze roved down her body to where they brushed together intimately, only the fabric of their clothing separating them. “All in all, I think things have changed for the better. Still, there was something charming about those days.”
“It must have been beautiful.” She’d read her share of Jane Austin and dreamed of beautiful ball gowns twirling around the floor of some grand ballroom to the strains of a string quartet. It was a far cry from the pounding bass of this club’s sound system and the whirling neon lights.
“I see you’re a romantic at heart, young Megan.”
She shrugged, noting the way his gaze fell to the upper swells of her breasts, visible in her low-cut blouse. Things were progressing according to plan. He seemed attracted. Of course, for all she knew, he was leading her on for his own amusement. She had no basis to judge her progress when it came to vampires, having never dealt directly with any before.
“I think I’m like most women. We all yearn for romance at some point in our lives.”
“Ah, but shifter women yearn for their one true love. Their mate. Do they not?”
“I’ve heard that your kind do the same. Is it true that most of you search for centuries until you find that special One?”
Dante’s eyes grew dark as he held her gaze. “It is true, though most are unaware of our plight. How do you know about it?”
“My mother knew one of your kind in her day. Pretty much all I know about your kind comes from her.” She’d almost blown it. At least her excuse was mostly true. Her mother had had dealings with a vampire once upon a time and had told Megan about it. It was also true Megan’s meager knowledge had been duly supplemented by her keeper at the Altor Custodis.
“Do you know his name? This one that your mother knew?”
“What makes you think it was a male?” She gave him a saucy look, hoping to get back to the flirtatious banter they’d been sharing before she misstepped big time.
“All right then, who was it? There are few unmated females among us, you know.”
“Her name was Esmeralda de Young, though she was going by Mira when my mother knew her. She was a healer of sorts, and my mother sought her help when I was still a pup.”
“Ah.” Dante pulled her in close once more, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I know Esmay has always had a soft spot for strays. I guess you come from a line of loners, eh?”
Mutely, she nodded against his chest and felt his muscles relax just a fraction as her story reassured him. It was the truth after all, just not the full truth. For a flicker of a second, she felt bad about lying to him. Then she remembered her family and realized she had to stand firm against the vampire’s allure. She had a mission to complete and her family honor depended on it.
“Is it true you’d get a rush if I let you drink from me?” She hadn’t meant to ask that question. It just slipped out, something that had been preying on her mind.
He looked at her strangely for a moment, then nodded. “Were blood is more magical than human. Only mage blood can match it and there’s only one thing more powerful.”
“What’s that?”
“My blood.”
Duncan joined them on the dance floor, grinding against Megan’s backside as Dante dominated her front. She’d jumped when Duncan snuck up on her, but recovered well. All in all, Dante was quickly becoming fascinated by the lone wolf pup.
She turned in the small space they allowed her, to face Duncan.
“And exactly what are you? You’re not all human, yet you’re nothing I’ve ever sniffed before.”
“Good nose.” Duncan bent down to kiss the tip of her nose, and Dante felt himself repressing a growl. That surprised him enough to make him back off a bit and let things unfold. Duncan undoubtedly knew what he was doing. Or so Dante hoped.
She pulled away, clearly uncomfortable with the way Duncan had just invaded her personal space, though they were dancing scandalously close to begin with. Dante supposed dancing the bump and grind was ac
cepted behavior these days, while kissing without prior contact was still something a little unexpected.
“So what are you?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, my dear. Suffice to say, I’m older and more magical than either of you, so you’d both best behave.” He winked and left her with a smile, seeking his mortal female companions elsewhere on the dance floor.
Dante pulled her back against him with an arm around her middle and they danced like that for a while, his aching cock pillowed by a round, tight ass that made his mouth water. Before he could get too carried away, she turned again in his arms to face him.
“Did your friend just warn me off?” Her expression was one of disbelief.
Dante smiled. “I think he was warning both of us. He’s become my keeper in a way. A thorn in my side, though we’ve been friends for centuries. I’ll be glad when things return to normal.”
“And when will that be?”
He didn’t see any harm in answering her truthfully. Change was coming and the more were who knew about it, the better. Even lone ones could be of help in the coming struggle if what they feared came to pass—if the Venificus were successful and brought the Destroyer of Worlds back to this realm.
“When our enemies are defeated. Again.”
“Who’s your enemy, Dante?” She looked confused, alarmed and suspicious all at the same time.
“Like I said, I’ll tell you all about it. Just not here.”
“How can I be sure you’ll tell me the truth? You might be one of the bad guys, after all.”
“Am I? Wouldn’t your highly trained nose be able to tell?”
She seemed to consider that, then moved in to take a delicate sniff of him. “You’re right. You don’t smell evil at all. Not entirely good, but definitely not evil. You’d have to be a hell of a mage to hide that kind of thing from me.”
“It’s good you realize that. Mages can fool us all. However, I am not a mage. I am what you see.”
“Your kind and mine don’t get along all that well.” She seemed to be having fun playing devil’s advocate with him. “So how do I know I can trust you?”
“Because all creatures on the side of light should be warned.”
“And how do you know I’m one of the good guys?” She fingered his lapels, regaining some of her composure as the music changed and they moved more slowly. He edged her toward the outer ring of the dance floor, into the shadows.
“You’re not the only one with a good nose, sweetheart.” He dipped his head, daring a kiss. He licked the seam of her lips, coaxing them to open. When she let him in, he wasted little time, taking full advantage of her yielding lips to stake his claim on her mouth, on her very breath.
She tasted divine. Wild, free and of the earth. Temptation made flesh. Dante had never fucked a were. He’d been around them from time to time—more so in the far past when they’d fought side by side. He’d not had much exposure to them in recent years except for his adventure with the werelords. He hadn’t known they were so full of life and light. He hadn’t known their females contained such passion in their lithe, lovely bodies.
She pulled away with a little moan of delight and a teasing smile. He wasn’t quite ready to let her go. He grew aware of their surroundings and knew this was not the place for what he had in mind.
“Come back to my place.” It wasn’t much of a question, more like an order. Luckily, she seemed to be on the same page.
Her head tilted in a cute way as she thought about it. “If I do, will you want to bite me?”
“Undoubtedly. I’ll make you come so hard, you won’t even feel the prick of my teeth. And I’ll only take a little. You have my word of honor you’ll come to no harm.”
“Your word of honor, eh?” She seemed to consider that. “I suppose you’re the old-fashioned type to whom his word really is his bond, right?”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her words. “Not only that. Duncan will be watching both of us for the slightest misstep. Believe me, you do not want to mess with a knight.”
“He was a knight?”
“Was and still is,” he confirmed. “And that’s all you’ll get from me on that subject unless and until he chooses to let you in on his little secret. It’s his call and I respect that, but surely you can sense the power around him. It’s so pure, it’s almost kind of pretty.”
She chuckled as she looked over at Duncan dancing across the room with two lovelies.
“I smell it. I don’t see it as clearly as you apparently do. To me he smells like pure fresh air. Like the full moon on a sabbat. Like everything good in this world and beyond.”
“Yeah, that kind of sums him up in a very were way. To me, he looks like a mixture of remembered sunshine and blessed moonlight, the rarest of vintages and the hum of angels singing. Damn, I need a drink if I’m waxing poetic about Duncan.” He laughed at himself, though every word he’d spoken was true. Duncan’s power was all these things and more and it would keep him on track while he learned his way through this new crisis.
“All right. I’ll go home with you, but you should be warned—” she stepped back from him and trailed her finger down his chest teasingly, “—I bite back.”
They left the club shortly thereafter. Dante couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into Megan. He had to get her home and in his bed in the shortest amount of time possible. He ached to be inside her. His fangs dropped just thinking about tasting her blood while he possessed her body, making her scream in ecstasy as he drank from her.
Distracted by his unusual desire for a mortal, he wasn’t as attentive to his surroundings as he should have been when they exited the building. A car screeched around the bend of the parking lot as they headed for his vehicle parked in a dark corner of the lot.
In a fraction of a moment, Dante caught the flash of peroxide blonde hair as a woman’s arm shot out the window of a gleaming black, late model Porsche. What set his internal alarms to clanging in warning was the fireball poised in her hand.
She was a mage and a powerful one at that. She lobbed her missile at his head, and Dante ducked for cover as streaks of sickly ochre fire rained down around him. He didn’t understand. It should have dealt him a glancing blow at the very least.
The woman in the Porsche called her magic and launched once more. Dante was pinned between two vehicles and the brick wall that ran along the back of the parking lot. He’d stared death in the face before and knew this time it would claim him.
Then, in an unexpected blur of motion, a werewolf in the dangerous and magical half-shift form bounded between him and the female mage. The blast hit the wolf square in the chest. Dante heard himself shouting as he raced to catch her, even as the Porsche squealed away.
Megan fell into his arms, singed fur covering her muscular body. She was unconscious but breathing as he cradled her to his chest.
A shadow fell over them, and Dante bared his fangs in a fierce snarl. No one would touch her again. No one.
Thankfully, it was only Duncan.
“Ease off, friend. Mortals are coming to see about the commotion. We must leave. Is she…?”
“She lives.” Dante’s voice rasped out over roughened vocal cords and fangs lengthened in preparation for battle.
“Let’s get her someplace safe then.”
Dante wouldn’t allow Duncan to touch her. It was unreasonable, he knew, but his fragile temper wouldn’t allow it at the moment. He stood with her in his arms. Her body shifted to human form, even as he rose, her pale flesh gleaming in the moonlight. She was hurt badly. He would see to her survival if he had to move heaven and Earth to assure it.
“Open the car door. You drive.” The terse words were all he could get out through his elongated teeth and fierce anger. The anger wasn’t directed at Duncan. Rather, it was meant for the woman who had done this—and himself.
There was little doubt in his mind that Megan had deliberately intercepted a strike meant for him. The little fool. She’d prob
ably saved his life, but at what cost?
Chapter Two
“I know it’s bad when you allow me to drive.” Duncan tried to make light of the serious situation as he ushered them into Dante’s car. Luckily they’d taken the big Mercedes tonight in anticipation of having a few ladies with them later. How differently things had turned out from their original plan.
All they’d wanted was a night of carousing and good fun. It had changed in an instant. Two instants, actually—the first being the arrival of the sexy little werewolf and the second, the subsequent attack by a mysterious blonde in a hot car. Duncan wondered if the two events were somehow related. He wasn’t a big believer in coincidence.
The wolf girl had secrets. There was no doubt of it in his mind. Was she in league with the woman who’d just lobbed killing blows from fifteen yards out? That was powerful sorcery, and it had been aimed directly at Dante.
If the two women were working together, why would Megan put herself in the path of danger to save his life? Or was a more elaborate ruse yet to unfold?
Duncan would keep watch, as was his duty, and try to keep an open mind. Dante was more special than anyone knew and it was Duncan’s task to keep him safe for the battle ahead. If the other side managed to take him out in the early rounds—or worse, to turn him to their cause as they’d been trying to do for centuries—it would be a tragic and dangerous turn of events.
“Where are we headed?” Duncan asked once they were out on the open road. It was essential to put as much distance between them and the threat of danger as possible. The girl was in bad shape. She needed medical—and magical—attention.
“Home.” Dante was growling. Something Duncan had never heard him do before. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Dante react so strongly to a female of any kind before. Something was definitely strange with this situation, yet Duncan would be damned if he could put his finger on exactly what it was.
“Are you certain that’s wise?”
