From Jennifer Ashley, With Love: Three Paranormal Romances from Bestselling Series

by Jennifer Ashley

  He hated the sight of the bandage on her shoulder, stark white against her skin. At least she hadn’t been cut by a vampire blade, which would have stabbed death magic into her. Blood slave weapons at least were normal.

  “This car wasn’t meant to take that kind of speed,” Amber was saying as Adrian got out. “It’s just something to get me from place to place in the city.”

  “I’ll buy you a new one,” Adrian said, slamming the door. “What kind do you want?”

  Amber stopped in mid-rant, mouth open. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Tell me what make and what color, and I’ll buy you a car when we get to L.A.”

  She stared at him a moment longer, then turned her back on him, folding her arms and studying the tall trees beyond the road, thumbs rubbing her elbows. “Nice of you to promise, but how are we supposed to get to L.A. now?”

  Adrian pulled a cell phone out of his leather coat. “I have a friend who’ll pick us up.”

  Amber looked up and down the road and along the empty greenery to either side of it. “He lives nearby?”

  “No, but he’ll get here quickly.” Adrian tapped a number and listened to a long series of electronic ringing on the other end, while Amber watched him, unconvinced.

  The phone finally clicked. “Hello?” came a deep and wary voice that had just climbed out of sleep.

  “Valerian.”

  There was a pause, then, “Oh Goddess.” The words were melodious, hollow, and dismayed. “It’s Adrian.”

  “It is. My old friend, I need a favor . . .”

  * * *

  Half an hour later a black Mustang slid to a halt in front of Adrian and Amber, its motor throbbing. The black-tinted window slid silently down to reveal a bulk of a man with blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. “Hey,” he said. “Need a lift?”

  Amber looked from Valerian to Adrian, not softened by Adrian’s reassuring nod. But she shrugged, her face white with exhaustion, and said she’d crawl into the back and sleep. Adrian wanted to have a better look at her wound, so he got in back with her after tossing their bags into the trunk, cramming his long legs into the small space with difficulty.

  “Nice car,” Amber observed as Valerian swung the door shut.

  “It’s a rental.” Valerian’s rumbling voice filled the car with a bass timbre. He swiveled around and looked at them, his blue eyes alert as he gave Amber a once-over. “I always like to rent something flashy. I would’ve got a Ferrari but we wouldn’t all fit. Where to, pilgrims?”

  “My house,” Adrian answered. “Quick as you can.”

  Valerian settled his muscular body and launched the car back onto the highway with a spin of gravel. “There are faster ways to travel,” he said as he sped along.

  “None that avoid attention.”

  Valerian’s azure eyes met Adrian’s in the rearview mirror. “What? Adrian the Unstoppable wants to avoid attention?”

  “I have precious cargo.”

  Valerian’s gaze moved to Amber, lingering so long he nearly ran up the back of a slow-moving RV. “Cute cargo,” he said, swinging out to pass.

  “She is.”

  “Hmm. Are you two . . . you know?”

  “Not yet,” Adrian answered.

  “Good. Still a chance for me, then.”

  “I said not yet.”

  Amber opened her eyes, tawny and sleepy in the morning light. “I can hear you, you know.”

  Adrian drew her close. “Good. Let me look at your shoulder.” Without waiting for permission, he began easing the white bandage from her flesh.

  “What happened?” Valerian asked.

  “Vampire attack,” Adrian said.

  The blue eyes widened. “She got bit?”

  “Stabbed. By a blood slave.”

  “Whew. That’s bad, but could have been worse.”

  Adrian agreed. He briefly explained about the vampire attack as he peeled back the bandage to reveal the gash. Amber’s head lay on his shoulder, her soft hair tickling his nose. Even running away from home and fighting vampires hadn’t erased her sweet scent.

  The shoulder wound wasn’t too bad, but Amber was human and mortal, and such a thing could fester. Adrian opened Amber’s box of crystals and picked out a few amethysts, their centers glowing with dark purple light. Enclosing them in his left hand, he let their healing vibrations build before he transferred them to his right hand and put his closed fist over the cut.

  Amber was watching Valerian. “What is he?” she whispered.

  “A friend. A shapeshifter.”

  “Not a werewolf,” she said with conviction.

  Adrian agreed that Valerian’s scent and vibrations were absolutely nothing like a werewolf’s. “No.”

  Amber waited for him to explain, but Adrian closed his eyes and concentrated on the crystals, while Valerian shut up and drove. Amber could find out what Valerian was later—no sense scaring her now.

  Under Adrian’s hand, Amber’s wound began to close. Cleansed by the healing magic of the crystals, her skin knitted from the depth of the wound outward until only a red line indicated where the cut had been. Amber opened sleepy eyes then rubbed her shoulder as though it itched.

  Adrian moved her hand and soothed his own over it. He kissed her cheek. “Go to sleep. All is well now.”

  Amber stared at him a little longer, not instantly obeying, no matter how much he brushed her mind. She could resist his compelling mind-touch like no one had ever been able to, possibly not even realizing she did it. But she settled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes—because she chose to.

  Adrian looked out at the sunlit morning rushing past the heavily tinted windows. He could understand Amber’s wonder at Valerian. The man was built like a wrestler with thick blond hair and eyes so blue they were like pieces of the noonday sky. His eyes were a little larger than most human’s and the irises wider, so when you looked into those eyes you saw nothing but color.

  Adrian had been sired by a rather jovial young priest, who’d had no problem with Isis taking him as a lover, but Valerian had nothing human about him. Valerian could assume human shape, though that was as far as his humanity went. Even werewolves and vampires were more human than Valerian.

  Valerian glanced into the rearview again. “Septimus was looking for you last night,” he said, naming a vampire who owned several very upscale vamp clubs in Los Angeles. “He didn’t say why.”

  “Figures.”

  “He asked me to call him if I got in touch with you, but I told him you’d talk to him in your own time.”

  “Thanks.”

  Valerian, though he had his own agendas, would never betray Adrian to a vampire. If Adrian wanted to trust Septimus, kingpin of his part of town, that was Adrian’s business.

  “There’s some weird shit going down,” Valerian said. “Can’t point to anything specific, but I’m right.”

  Adrian stroked Amber’s hair. “I know. Weird shit has been happening all night.”

  “I’ll get you home,” Valerian promised, speeding the car around a slow-moving semi. “And we’ll figure out what to do.”

  Adrian thought of his large cold house in L.A. and the events in Amber’s homey, very lived-in house behind them in Seattle. He had the feeling that they were heading toward an only temporary refuge.

  * * *

  Amber opened her eyes to a sea of white.

  As the blur of sleep cleared she saw that she lay in the middle of a wide bed. Piles of pillows in soft white and a cool down coverlet, also white, completed the comfort. The walls and vaulted ceiling of the room were painted a soft yellow, capturing the sunlight that poured in through the open windows.

  When Adrian had mentioned his house in Los Angeles, Amber had pictured a boxy residence in the suburbs. This, she realized as she climbed from the vast bed, was a huge house perched on the side of a bluff not twenty feet from the ocean.

  Amber stepped to the windows that opened out onto a deck, and saw that the bedroom occupied one ent
ire end of the house. The rest of the house bent in a U shape away from her, a wooden veranda curving from the bedroom to floor-to-ceiling windows of a living room and to equally tall glass doors of a bedroom opposite her. To her left, a wooden stairway went down to an empty stretch of beach.

  The sea slid up to the golden sands, the rushing sound of the waves soothing. Amber now understood Adrian’s easy offer to buy her another car. What kind would you like? He must have Money with a capital M.

  The breeze felt cool against her bare arms and legs. Amber realized she was in her underwear, a white lace bikini panty and matching bra that she’d thrown on before Adrian had dragged her out of her house in Seattle. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in the Mustang driven by the huge man with large blue eyes. Adrian’s comforting shoulder had cradled her head, and she’d felt his lips in her hair.

  He’d healed her. Amber saw in the mirror hanging above his dresser that her wound had closed completely, a pink-tinted streak in its place. Her arm felt whole and strong, no infection from the blade. Amber hadn’t heard of any witch who could heal another that completely and quickly, not even among those especially talented in healing.

  She thought about the incredible power she’d sensed building within Adrian as they’d walked toward the vampires at the truck stop. Had he unleashed that power, those vamps would have died instantly, along with the vamps who’d lingered in the woods waiting to see whether they were needed. She had the feeling he’d have been able to channel the power to kill only the undead and leave the humans alone if he wanted.

  An Immortal. A son of Isis. A demigod. A being with more power inside him than Amber had ever seen in her life. He was more dangerous than anything she’d ever faced, that was certain.

  Yet, he’d been protective of Amber from the moment she’d met him. This house felt protected, far more than her own home did. Her witch’s sight could discern no wards over windows and doors, but tingling in her body told her he’d encased the house with a veneer of power to keep bad things out.

  The mirror told her another thing—that her hair was matted to her skull, that her face and arms were dirty and spattered with dried blood. Great.

  Who had undressed her? Adrian? She grew warm with the thought of him gently stripping her, strong hands on her body.

  Ever since he’d rescued her from the evil demon, she’d been half-consumed with lust for the erotic stranger with incredible powers. She hoped that her dirt and grime hadn’t turned him off.

  The bathroom connected to the bedroom contained a huge shower stall with a shower head at each end, a deep whirlpool bathtub, acres of marble tile, and a pile of fluffy towels and an equally fluffy bathrobe within reach of both bath and shower.

  Amber chose the shower, wanting to scrub, and enjoyed the fresh scented soaps and shampoos waiting for her, unused, on a shelf. She emerged and dried herself with the giant towels then bundled into the bathrobe. It too was large, made for a man. Why did it relieve her that Adrian didn’t have a woman’s bathrobe handy?

  None of her clothes were handy either, it turned out. The bag she’d hastily packed wasn’t visible in the room nor in any closets she opened. Still in the bathrobe, she walked out to the main area of the house, noting that it was quiet but for the rushing of the ocean in the background.

  The living room ran the length of one side of the U; large and airy and open to the veranda and the sea. Beautiful. Amber stepped outside, breathing the fresh, salt air, and enjoying the sounds of the morning. A few moments later, she heard quick footsteps and turned to see who had entered the room behind her.

  A tall young woman came out of the kitchen in a white linen sleeveless dress that set off a perfect tan, and high-heeled sandals that emphasized her shapely legs. The woman’s blond hair was loose and short, but the windblown look was as faultless as the rest of her. If she wore makeup, it was artful enough not to draw attention to itself while at the same time highlighting her eyes and high cheekbones. She had a model’s angular face and sensual lips, and eyes that had intelligent thought behind them.

  “Hello,” she said in a beautiful, contralto voice. “I’m Kelly, Adrian’s next door neighbor. Adrian asked me to come over and keep you company.”

  “Ah,” was all that came out of Amber’s mouth. She now recognized Kelly O’Byrne, from a movie she’d seen a few months ago with Susan, a romantic comedy with the usual big stars. Kelly hadn’t been the lead, she’d been a secondary character, but had played the wise best friend of the heroine with clarity. The next big star, people were calling her.

  Adrian hadn’t mentioned that he had a to-die-for movie star for a next door neighbor. Amber suddenly felt awkward in the oversized robe with her hair wet and no makeup next to this poised beauty.

  “Would you like something to eat?” Kelly asked. “I brought Manny, my cook, with me. Adrian never has anything to eat.”

  She said it as though she waltzed over here and checked out Adrian’s refrigerator all the time. Like a woman who had a key to his house.

  Amber tried to shrug. “Sure, why not?”

  Kelly smiled with a confident air and led the way through the living room and down a short hall to a broad, sunny kitchen in the front of the house.

  Manny was a black-haired Italian, and he threw pots and spoons around Adrian’s kitchen with professional ease. “I’ll cook you the best frittata you ever ate,” he assured Amber without looking up.

  Kelly took a stool at the breakfast bar and poured sparkling mineral water into a glass. Manny, without being asked, poured another, dropped a paper-thin slice of lemon on top of it, and slid it in front of Amber.

  “Adrian said you liked tea,” Kelly said. “Manny is brewing a pot.” She took a delicate sip of mineral water, the liquid barely wetting her perfect lips.

  “Where is Adrian?” Amber couldn’t sense his presence in the quiet house.

  “He went out somewhere. He didn’t tell me where, but asked me to come over. He didn’t want you waking up and finding yourself alone.”

  Amber took a drink of the water. Sparkling water was not her morning beverage choice, but she had to admit the lemon gave it a nice taste. “Gallant of him.”

  “Adrian is gallant,” Kelly said. “I worked at a vampire club a few years ago, as a dancer.”

  A “dancer” at vampire club could mean a stripper or it might not, depending on what kind of club it was. Kelly didn’t have scars on her neck from bites, so she must not have been a blood slave, although plastic surgery could have repaired her skin.

  Kelly smiled at Amber’s hesitation. “After I started getting good acting jobs I quit dancing and moved up here. But the vamp who ran the club considered me his property and sent his boys to drag me back. Adrian came over and told them to get lost. I was scared—for Adrian, I mean. The vamps the club owner sent were strong. I thought Adrian would be dead in a heartbeat. But you know what?” She smiled again, showing even white teeth. “Those vampires took one look at Adrian and hightailed it out of there. I couldn’t believe it. Not an hour later, the vamp who owned the club pulled up in his limo. Adrian met him at my front door and the two of them had a long, long talk. The vampire never even tried to see me. He got back into his limo and it drove away fast. He never bothered me again.”

  She watched Amber with her almond-shaped eyes, waiting to see what Amber made of that. Amber imagined Adrian stoking up the incredible power inside him, just enough so the vampire could feel it, and explaining carefully that he’d better not find vampires anywhere near Kelly again. The head vamp had probably tried not to wet himself.

  “You’re right,” Amber said, taking another sip of water. “Adrian is gallant.”

  “I wanted you to know that. Also that we aren’t lovers and never have been.”

  Amber’s face went hot. “That’s all right. I mean . . . it’s none of my business. I just met him.”

  Manny kept on cooking without paying attention to the conversation. The eggs in his pan started to set up,
so he threw on a handful of sliced red peppers, some mushrooms, and an assortment of cheeses, and shoved the pan in the oven.

  Kelly tapped her glass with tapered fingernails and gave Amber an assessing look. “I’m telling you that because he’s never asked me to come over and look after someone before. That means you’re different. It means you might be good for him.”

  Amber realized that behind the Hollywood body and perfect face, Kelly not only had a woman’s matchmaking instincts but the need to help out a friend who’d helped her. She softened.

  “Adrian and I are just friends,” Amber ventured.

  Kelly’s smile wrinkled her nose. “Sure, honey. By the way, if you want to do some shopping, my chauffeur will drive you wherever you want to go. Adrian said he dragged you down here without much, and that you’d need clothes.”

  Manny grabbed the frittata from the oven, slid it expertly onto a plate, and placed the heady-smelling concoction in front of Amber. “Adrian said she stays here,” he said.

  “Yes, but men don’t understand about clothes.”

  Amber again touched the protective magic in this house—amazing, vibrating magic. Vampires couldn’t get at her in broad daylight. Correction, as long as they didn’t go outside or into direct sunlight, they couldn’t get to her. Demons didn’t have the daylight restriction, and neither did blood slaves who would kill for their vampires. Unless Kelly’s chauffeur had superpowers, Amber had the feeling she should stay put.

  She was hungry anyway. She attacked the frittata and smiled at Manny who hovered, waiting for her opinion. Amber told Manny, without lying, that it was the best she’d ever had. Manny nodded modestly, as though he hadn’t been worried, and went back to banging pans.

  “I don’t mind staying here,” Amber said around mouthfuls.

  “Suit yourself,” Kelly said. “I can call a boutique and have them bring the clothes here if you want.”

  Must be nice. “I’ll let you know. How long have you known Adrian, by the way?”