Kali Sweet Series, Three Urban Fantasy Novels (Boxed Set)

by Misty Evans

  And then he blew it all to hell.

  His lips nuzzled my ear. “Kali, I need to tell you something.”

  Hell’s blood. Rad was about to brush against a pain much too raw to discuss in an evil vamp’s coffin. Too deep to discuss, period. “Not. Now.” Come back, I mentally called to the light and the warmth. Please, come back.

  No dice. Heaven was gone.

  “This is important. About us and what happened…before.” He licked my neck again. “Damn, you taste so good. Smell good too. Like chocolate pastries and vanilla ice cream.”

  I’m so not vanilla ice cream. Jeez. “That’s the blood, Rad. I’m infected, remember? The human in you is now addicted to…” I swallowed hard. “Me.”

  The coffin lid flew up and Nudra, angry but smug at finding our hiding place, pointed a bright silver sword at my neck. “How charming. Radison Beaumont and Kalina Dolce making out in my coffin.” His gaze locked with Rad’s. “She is a prize isn’t she? I can’t wait to have her alone myself.”

  Rad’s free hand moved but Nudra pinned the point of the sword against my heart. “Snap those fingers and she dies.”

  He kept his gaze on Rad, but spoke to me. “Get up, my dear.”

  The sword point bit into my skin through the shirt. I pushed against Rad’s chest, signaling him to stay put. Finagling my other hand hidden behind my backside, I touched my fingers together. Nothing. No magic anywhere.

  No wooden stakes either. Ugly, here we come.

  Nudra took my hand, guiding me out of the coffin. All the while, he kept the sword trained over my heart and his gaze locked on Rad.

  There was only one thing to do. I fake-fell over the side of the coffin, swiping the silver knife from Rad’s pocket. Nudra’s sword drooped for a second as he automatically tried to stabilize me.

  Shifting my weight, I fell into him, and having mastered Bambi eyes long before Disney did, I gave him my best innocent look. “I’m so weak.”

  “Of course you are. The new blood slaves have drained you. You need more of my blood to make you strong again.”

  “I need your blood, all right.” With one swift motion, I stabbed the vamp king in his heart with the dagger. Wouldn’t kill him, but it startled him enough, I had time to yell, “Stake!” at Rad.

  He snapped his fingers, causing the willow torture table to fly into a million curly pieces. Lucky for us, Nudra’s anti-magic spell was only on the house’s structure, not contents. Solid branches flew through the air, and the moment I snagged one, the warm sensation came flooding back to my chest.

  Nudra swung the sword at my neck. I ducked, dragging the dagger down with me and cutting him from heart to belly button. His eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards, blood and guts spilling a trail. The smell of his blood filled my nose.

  One good thing about not being human? Vamp blood reeks.

  The sword sailed toward my head. Too late, I threw up an arm, knowing I would lose it, but thinking in that split second it was better than losing my head.

  Nothing hit me. Rad flew out of the coffin, blocking the sword before it made contact. It clattered on the stone floor, Nudra’s face showing fear for the first time. “I’m your master, Kalina Dolce. You cannot murder me.”

  Even when nauseated, drained of blood and wearing nothing but a wet, muddy T-shirt, I still have standards. “Nudra, by the order of the Bridge Council, I hereby…”

  With vamp speed, he swept my legs with his. I fell hard, but my aim was true. I nailed him with the willow stake square in his already bleeding heart.

  Just before he went poof, I smiled into his astonished vamp eyes. “My name is Kali Sweet and I’m nobody’s blood slave.”

  Nudra disintegrated into a pile of ashes and the stake bounced to the floor.

  Both of us breathing hard, Rad and I looked at each other. “We make a good team,” he said, reaching down to help me up.

  “We are not a team.”

  I swayed on my feet, adrenaline leaving as fast it came. He swung me up into his arms, ignoring my weak protests. “The band and I are throwing a Halloween party tomorrow night downtown at the Blackstone.” His lips quirked and it was a good thing no icebergs were in the near vicinity or I would have drowned. “Wanna come?”

  I blame Nudra’s blood for what happened next. The demon inside me purred. The warm sensation in my chest intensified, and maybe, just maybe, the polar icecap there melted a teeny, tiny bit.

  But not that much. “No.”

  Rad looked pained. “Kali. Please.”

  I shook my head but then laid it against his naked chest. Damn but he smelled good. Not in that weird blood slave way, or even in his chaos demon manner, but in a nice warm, human male way. “Just take me home, Rad.”

  He did. And the next day, he brought me coffee. Nothing else. Just coffee. Rang the doorbell, left it on the doorstep.

  I was due at the Bridge office at seven that evening to give them my report on Nudra. Forget I’d gone against orders and killed a vamp king, once they found out I had three blood slaves, I was doomed. So on the drive through downtown to the Bridge office, I took a detour.

  The party was in full swing on the tenth floor outdoor terrace of the Blackstone, costumes as plentiful as beer and groupies. For once, my short skirt, thigh high boots and red cape looked completely appropriate. Hone and Renee waved at me from the bar while Chaos Demons music filled the air.

  I located Rad, standing alone on the edge of the terrace, staring out over the city. I sidled up to him, hoping the city lights and dark expanse of the lake would calm my racing heart.

  They didn’t.

  He gave me a goofy grin and the icecap heart inside me melted a fraction more. “You came.”

  I shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “The lesser of two evils.”

  He grabbed a nearby guitar and held it up like a peace offering. “Want to hear the song I’m working on?”

  At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel Rad’s music ripple across my skin. I moved closer to pick up the smell of warm, human male. It was there and so was that look in his eyes. Hunger, passion, desire.

  Peace offerings. More dangerous than a wooden stake any day.

  “Yeah,” I said, wild human emotion clogging my throat. “I’d love to.”

  We left the party in full swing, a couple of groupies giving me jealous glares. Inside Rad’s suite on the top floor a minute later, I stood on the balcony, breeze from the lake raising gooseflesh under my clothes. What was I doing here?

  Being sloppy again, that’s what.

  The tinkle of glass sounded behind me. The suite was as big, open, glamorous. Thick carpet, high thread-count sheets, fancy furniture and a complete bar. You couldn’t get more North Side if you tried.

  I moseyed back into the living area and Rad handed me a flute of champagne. The bubbles tickled my nose as I sipped. He was pretending not to watch me as I gave myself a tour of the suite, ending once again at the balcony. The air temp was dropping and the sounds of the party echoed through the night. I closed the glass doors with slow, deliberate movements before I turned to find Rad, guitar in hand, standing a few feet away. He was no longer pretending he wasn’t watching me.

  He reached for my hand, led me to the couch. There he took the glass out of my hand and set it on the enormous glass coffee table. He tugged the cape off my shoulders, his fingers hesitating ever so slightly when they grazed my neck. His gaze slid to my left eye where Nudra had laid his silver dagger against my skin, burning it. “How are your cuts?”

  Demons heal fast. The dagger, being pure silver, had left some damage though. I had a triangular scar, silvery like its source at the corner of my eye. A long slender scar on the inside of my thigh. The other cuts weren’t as deep and had already healed, leaving thread-like silver lines behind. “Almost gone.”

  “What did you tell the Council?”

  Our eyes met. Because he was my blood slave, I could see his bone-deep desire to take my blood shining in his eyes. I coul
d feel his craving, as palpable as my own, coursing through me. His need called to my blood, his emotions entangling themselves with mine, and my own desire kicked low in my stomach. My pulse jumped. “Nothing. Yet.”

  His hands slid under the cape at my shoulders, sliding the red garment down my arms and letting it linger around my waist to keep me close to him. “I could go with you, talk to the Council. Tell them how I found you, what I witnessed. They won’t blame you, K. It’s not your fault, what Nudra did.”

  I shuddered at his touch. At his too-close body and the need rolling off of it. The way he called me K like he’d done during intimate moments three hundred years ago.

  Career, Kali. Focus. “I got sloppy. The Council doesn’t allow sloppy.”

  The blood lust was evident on his face but so was pure old human desire. He wanted to kiss me. Wanted to wipe away my disgust with myself and my fear of facing the Council. Instead, he tossed my cape on the end of the couch and handed me the champagne. “Everyone makes mistakes. They’d be stupid to cut you off for this.”

  Not stupid. Smart. I was in violation of six different Bridge laws. Since I was purposely blowing off my official debriefing, make that seven.

  Focusing on my job was the last thing I wanted to do even if it kept me from jumping Rad right then and there. “Are you going to play me that song or not?”

  I sat on the couch. Rad sat on the coffee table. I expected something hard and fast, but as he strummed his fingers across the strings, a soft melody rose from the guitar, so sad it made my eyes sting with tears.

  The music wove invisible threads around me, flowing over my skin, filling my senses. I closed my eyes and rode the swells his fingers produced as he walked them up and down the chords. A throbbing set up camp between my thighs.

  Rad sang softly, his deep baritone heating my blood while the image of his fingers touching the strings, selecting the just-right notes to harmonize with his words, floated under my eyelids.

  Listen to my music

  Listen to my heart

  I finally found my way

  No words of mine can ever say

  How much I miss you…

  More finger work, chords pouring out from under them the way he’d played my body once. I rested my head on the couch, the throbbing between my legs building with the music. I wanted him, with all his humanness and creativity. Wanted his music inside me as well as out. Knowing I was a screw-up to let him worm his way back into my life and yet wanting nothing more than feel him moving, hard and needy, against me. To feel his lips on my throat, his fingers making music with pieces of my body.

  After all this time

  After all the wrongs

  I still care…

  Listen to my music

  Listen to its heart

  Open yours, if you dare

  I dared all right. Not opening my heart, because I was too cold after all these years to believe I even had a heart anymore. But lowering my defenses enough to let him in.

  Just for tonight. I need to forget what a screw-up I am.

  The last of the guitar notes faded away. I opened my eyes. Rad was looking down at the guitar, eyes hidden under his dark lashes as he avoided my eyes. With all his success, was he still afraid of criticism? Or was he afraid I’d slap his face? Throw my champagne on him, and in effect, throw his song and its apology, back at him?

  What I was about to do was damning, but then I was already damned. The demon inside me hummed. Easing forward, I took the guitar from his hands, set it aside, and replaced it with my own hands, sliding them together with his and interlocking our fingers. His gaze rose up my thighs, lingered on my breasts. Climbed to my neck.

  I crawled into his lap, hating myself for being so weak against my own lust, but not caring.

  For half a second, our eyes met, hands still clasped. Then Rad leaned his face into mine, stretching our arms out wide, and kissed me.

  Slow and erotic, the kiss rocked me. He wanted me, not just my blood, and he wasn’t about to rush this, even though we’d been apart for nearly three centuries. His emotions fueled mine, but mine were in a bigger hurry.

  So long. It had been so damn long. I parted my lips and whimpered into this mouth, a primal begging. More. I needed more.

  Rad tensed at my whimper. No longer willing or able to draw the seduction out, his mouth firmed on mine, forcing my lips farther apart. He released my hands, driving one of his into my hair, the other pressing against my lower back and dragging me against his broad chest. My breasts, already heavy with desire, flattened against him and it was his turn to moan.

  Grasping my buttocks, he stood, carrying me while his lips continued to assault mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, legs around his waist, oblivious to where we were going but knowing it was his bedroom.

  Once there, he deposited me on the edge of the king size bed. Covered in an artistic graphic black and red patterned duvet, the soft satin was cool against my thighs. Rad kneeled between my legs, flipping my skirt out of the way and running his tongue just above the top of my boot across my healing scar. I shuddered and sank my fingers in his hair, urging him to do more. He obliged, finding the sweet spot hidden under my panties and kissing me there, his warm breath and lips scorching me through the satin material.

  I wanted my panties off. I wanted everything off. Pushing him back, I told him so. “Take off your clothes.”

  He kissed me once, twice, three times, before standing. As I unhooked my skirt and slid it and my panties off my hips, he lifted his T-shirt over his head.

  Muscles flexed. Behind him, a mirror on a dresser reflected his well-toned upper body. Mm mm. There was a lot there to admire.

  But as my eyes took it all in, there was also something there that stopped my heart cold.

  A tattoo between his shoulder blades. A dagger, the three points of the hilt forming an elaborate cross with the blade. A rune I’d known all my life. A rune that terrified me.

  Noctifector.

  Hell’s blood.

  I backed up, hitting the bed and stumbled away from him, running into the nightstand with the back of my legs.

  Rad dropped his shirt to the floor. “K, what’s the matter?”

  Stunned beyond words, I pointed to the mirror. Muscles undulated under the Noctifector dagger as he shifted to follow my finger. “You’re…you’re a…”

  He caught sight of himself, flinched, and slowly swung his gaze back to mine. “It’s not what it looks like. I swear.”

  It was exactly what it looked like. He’d joined the specially trained and highly secret unit of the Roman Catholic Church’s police force. “How could you?” I whispered. “You’re half demon.”

  He stepped toward me and I cursed myself for leaving my cape and its weapons in the other room. Volante was inside the cape too—one of the rare occasions I wasn’t wearing her on my arm. The only weapon at my disposal was a lamp. Unfortunately, it was bolted to the wall.

  “It was a long time ago.” He took a step toward me. “I didn’t have any choice.”

  “Don’t come any closer.” I raised my hand in a stop gesture and sidestepped the nightstand. From the corner of my eye, I calculated my odds of clearing the bedroom doorway before he grabbed me. My skirt and panties were on the floor, but leaving them behind would be a small sacrifice to saving my life. “Nice, Radison. You’re more deceitful and calculating than I imagined. What was this? One last fling before you killed me?”

  He held a hand out, much like mine, only in a way meant to calm me. “You’ve got it all wrong, K. Let me explain.”

  We were way beyond explanations. I touched my ring fingers and thumbs together, raising my protective magic. “What is there to explain? You’re a Slayer. A demon killer. You’ve turned traitor.”

  “I would never kill you, you know that.”

  The bloody images of my family the night they were murdered by the Noctifectors flashed in front of my eyes. The cloying smell of betrayal clogged my nostrils. “The night we should
have been celebrating our marriage, my mother, father, and baby sister died at the hands of the Nocts. Did you kill them? Was that your initiation?”

  “Of course not. I had nothing to do with the strike against your family.”

  He might have been more believable if he hadn’t broken eye contact right before he claimed innocence.

  “Faccia di merda. You bastard.” I would have flicked my fingers and retrieved my skirt and panties, but I couldn’t afford to use magic for anything other than protecting myself and getting the hell out of there. Even though they were human, The Church’s slayers were the most highly skilled assassins on planet Earth. They had to be to take on demons, vamps and other evil entities.

  Skimming the wall and skirting furniture, I worked my way toward the bedroom door, never taking my eyes off his hands. One finger snap and I could be crushed under the weight of the roof, suffocated by a sudden lack of air, boiled alive from the inside if he decided to heat my blood that high.

  I thought about my dream. Rad sticking the dagger in my heart. That wasn’t just my subconscious symbolizing his betrayal. It was a premonition. “You always were a selfish prick, but I can’t believe you’d betray your own kind.”

  He stopped moving, dropped his hand. “If I’d wanted to kill you, Kali, I could’ve done it in Nudra’s coffin. I could’ve done it on your doorstep.”

  His voice was flat and devoid of emotion. As if he was suddenly very tired.

  Join the crowd. I was too. Tired and devastated at his betrayal all over again. Devastated at my own incompetence. My inability to see what was right in front of me. I hadn’t just been sloppy, I’d been a complete idiot. My throat tightened. “So why didn’t you?”

  “Because I’m still in lo…”

  “Don’t you dare,” I seethed. I lowered my voice, rage eating at my heart. “Don’t you dare bring love into this. You never loved me.”

  Along with the rage, an emotion I couldn’t quite name bloomed inside my chest, tears stinging the edges of my eyes. Before I could blow any semblance of control, I fled, grabbing my cape as I ran through the living room, smashing the champagne glass on Rad’s guitar. He called my name and I heard his footsteps behind me right before I yanked the door to the suite open. I tied my cape around my hips as I fled, running hard for the stairwell and brushing those damned tears off my cheeks.