Love Bites UK (Mammoth Book Of Vampire Romance2)

by Telep, Trisha

  Slade shook his head. “Not until Mischa explains what she’s doing here.”

  Mischa crossed her arms. “I’m looking for Zeke.”

  Slade’s eyes narrowed. “This is my hit, Mischa. Back the fuck off.”

  “What are you talking about? The Dominae assigned me to this case.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She smiled, showing a flash of fang. “Guess they figured you’d be handicapped with the half-breed.” She sent a venomous glance my way. “Face it, Slade. With her slowing you down, it’ll be a miracle if you win this one.”

  I was still stewing when Slade dropped me off. After Mischa’s insults, he had to physically remove me from Zeke’s house. Lucky for her he had, because I’d been about two seconds from going Three Mile Island on her ass.

  If Slade felt angry about the fact the Dominae brought Mischa in as insurance, he wasn’t showing it.

  “Stop sulking,” Slade said. “If you let her get a rise out of you, she’ll win every time.” He pulled the van to a stop next to my car.

  “I’m not sulking,” I lied. “I was trying to come up with a strategy.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said. “Do you always pout when you strategize?”

  That was it. I’d been insulted enough for one night. I turned to Slade with a glare. “You know what? I don’t think this partnership’s going to work out for me after all.”

  He didn’t seem impressed by my declaration. “Oh, I see.” He nodded, as if he’d just had a revelation. “You’re giving up.”

  “No, I’m not. I just prefer to work alone.”

  Slade sighed. “That’s not an option and you know it. Until I give the Dominae the all clear on you, you’re not allowed to pursue perps on your own.”

  I rammed my fist into the dashboard. He was right, but I didn’t like it. I’d worked my ass off in assassin school and paid my dues for close to a decade to get this chance. Having to shadow an arrogant ass was insult added to injury.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” Slade said calmly, looking at the dent I’d left in the dashboard.

  “Fuck off.” I slammed out of the van and stopped at my car. Anger and shame warred for supremacy in my gut. Anger because I was sick and tired of being underestimated. Shame because I was having a tantrum in front of an assassin of Slade’s calibre.

  Behind me, Slade rolled down the window. “Sabina?”

  I whipped towards him. “What?”

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

  I stopped cold. “What?”

  “Which word didn’t you understand?” he said, brow furrowing.

  I blew out a breath, feeling like an ass for my display of temper. “No. What I meant was, are you sure you want to work with me?”

  He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I crossed my arms, hating him a little bit for making me spell it out. “Well, for one, not many vampires would choose a mixed-blood for a partner. And the Dominae obviously think I’m a fuck up, so I can’t imagine why you’d bother.”

  He laughed at me. I narrowed my eyes, not understanding how anything I’d said was funny. “Grow up, little girl. This isn’t about you and your pride. It’s about the job.” He paused and leaned out the window. “You want to be a good assassin?”

  I assumed the question was rhetorical so I didn’t answer at first. But he remained silent for so long it became apparent he expected an answer. I lifted my chin. “I don’t want to be good. I want to be the best.”

  He bobbed his head, obviously approving of the answer. “You’ll never be the best if you allow your feelings to get in the way of the job. So suck it up, sweetheart. Kill Zeke, collect the reward and move on. Self-pity has no place in our line of work.”

  On the outside, I probably looked as stubborn as ever. My arms stayed crossed, my chin stayed raised, and my eyes stayed narrowed. But on the inside, his words washed through me like ice water. It wasn’t easy to accept that my emotions had been getting the best of me. But he was right. The longer I let my grandmother’s underestimation of my abilities hurt me, the longer it would take for me to earn her respect. Females like Lavinia Kane didn’t respect whiners. They respected doers – like Slade.

  “Besides,” Slade continued, “do you really want to let Mischa win?”

  At that moment, something shifted inside me. Fighting against the prejudices I faced was a waste of time. From now on, I’d focus on being the best assassin I could be. I’d start by working with Slade and learning everything I could from him. And lesson number one was most definitely learned.

  Finally, I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The corner of Slade’s mouth lifted, and he nodded approvingly. “Yes, ma’am.”

  When I got into the van the next night, I handed Slade the matchbook I’d grabbed from Zeke’s desk.

  “What’s this?” He held the book up to the light. It was from someplace called Jack’s Hideaway in Long Beach.

  “Found that in Zeke’s office last night,” I said. “I pocketed it just before we were interrupted by the trampire.”

  “And?”

  “I called. Looks like Mr Z. Calebow missed the ‘use a pseudonym’ lesson in extortion school.”

  “What an idiot,” Slade said. “Let’s go.”

  We hit the 710 about seven o’clock. Big mistake. Traffic didn’t just crawl; it oozed. I settled into my seat, prepared for a long wait.

  “Thanks for the pep talk last night,” I said.

  Slade looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “No problem. We all need a good kick in the ass every now and then.”

  “I find it hard to imagine you ever need one.”

  He laughed. “You’d be surprised. I won’t lie to you; the life of an assassin isn’t easy. Since you’re just starting out it’s best to learn that early.”

  My life hadn’t ever been what anyone would consider easy, I thought. “How long have you been doing this?”

  He shrugged. “About thirty years now.”

  “Do you ever regret it? Becoming an assassin, I mean.”

  He paused, as if weighing his response. “Sometimes. It’s a lonely life. And I have to admit I don’t always see eye to eye with the Dominae.” His words came out in a measured tone, each carefully chosen.

  “I can see that, I guess. Have you ever killed someone and regretted it?”

  He shifted in the seat. “Traffi c’s heavy tonight.”

  And with that, the door slammed shut on our conversation. The shades were drawn. And the “do not disturb” sign flashed like neon in the dark car.

  Jack’s Hideaway squatted on the side of the freeway like a beggar. The sign featured flashing neon palm trees and advertised rooms by the hour.

  “Charming place,” I observed as Slade pulled into the parking lot. The peeling turquoise doors opened directly onto the parking lot. The cars of choice for the discerning Hideaway patron seemed to be semi trailers and jalopies.

  After making a circle of the building to make sure Zeke couldn’t slip through a rear exit, Slade pulled into a parking space at the far end of the lot.

  “OK, his room’s on the second floor.” Slade pointed to the door next to the metal stairwell.

  “You think he’s in there?”

  Slade nodded. “My gut tells me yes. But he may not be alone. Be prepared for anything.” He went into the back of the van and started filling his pockets with weapons. “I’ll take point. You hang back. If he gets past me, put a bullet between his eyes. Got it?”

  I nodded. My heart kicked up a notch. It was finally happening. My first kill.

  The parking lot was deserted. The traffic from the freeway muted our progress up the stairs. It wouldn’t cover the sound of gunfire though, so I’d made sure to slip on a silencer.

  Slade took point on the left side of the door and I took the right, ready to get his back. Staying to the side, Slade knocked on the door.

  “What?” a surly male voice called from inside. Zeke.

 
; “Maintenance.”

  “Fuck off.” The voice was closer now. A shadow passed over the peephole. Slade didn’t bother responding. He kicked the door in, slamming it into Zeke’s face. The overweight vamp fell back with his hands over his nose, screaming blood murder.

  Then, with surprising speed, he barrelled past Slade and knocked me over. I fell on my ass just as he launched over the railing and took off across the parking lot.

  “Fuck!” Slade yelled and took off after him. I scrambled to my feet with a few choice curses of my own. I jumped over the railing and shot across the parking lot.

  Somewhere behind me, I heard a door slam, followed by the sound of high heels on pavement. A familiar female voice cursed loudly. I didn’t look back, but I’d have bet cash money Mischa followed us to the hotel, hoping to cut in on the action.

  With my eyes on Slade’s receding back, I pumped my legs faster. I didn’t want to miss out on the kill when it went down. I was closing in on him when Zeke turned right down an alley. As we rounded the corner, I came even with Slade.

  Up ahead, Zeke jumped on top of a dumpster. With wide eyes, he glanced back at us. Then he jumped up to grab the bottom of a fire escape. He pulled it down and scrambled up the ladder onto the escape. Then he pulled the ladder up behind him.

  Slade paused. “Go around the front of the building in case he comes back down!”

  I stopped, panting for breath. “Why me?”

  “Really? You’re going to argue now?” He looked over his shoulder at Mischa, who ran towards us in her five-inch heels.

  “Fine, but if you reach him first wait until I catch up.”

  Slade nodded impatiently and jumped up on the dumpster. “Go!”

  I backtracked, zooming past Mischa without a second glance. I heard her skitter to a halt. “Where are you going?” She turned to follow me.

  I ignored her and ran around to the front of the apartment building. The lobby was deserted, thank the gods. My boots clomped across the linoleum towards the stairs. The door opened behind me and Mischa’s heels joined my boots in echoing off the walls.

  “Sabina,” she whisper-yelled. “What’s going on?”

  I needed to ditch her before she got in the way. Skidding to a halt, I turned. “Mischa, thank the goddess you’re here. Zeke’s on his way out the front door,” I lied. “You stay here and bag him when he comes your way.”

  She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out if she could trust me. “I don’t know –”

  I heaved a big sigh. “Fine. You can explain to the Dominae why you let him go when he comes this way.”

  She lifted her chin. “All right, but if I bag him I’m not splitting the money with you.”

  “Whatever. Just stay there and make sure he doesn’t get away.”

  Without waiting for a response, I turned and ran up the stairs towards the roof. Four flights later, I burst through the metal door. Male grunts echoed across the barren landscape. Adrenaline surged. I rounded the corner to see Slade and Zeke knocking the shit out of each other.

  As I rushed towards them, I was surprised to see Slade having so much trouble sealing the deal. Sure, he’d promised to wait for me to get there for the kill, but I hadn’t expected him to follow through on it. Every assassin knows when you get an opening to finish the job you take it. But Slade didn’t even have a stake in his hand. Sure, Zeke was fighting, but he was also winded and scared. Slade should have had the advantage hands down.

  I pulled my gun from my waistband and advanced. Slade pushed Zeke back against the low wall surrounding the roof. Slade must’ve heard me because next thing I knew, he yelled, “Shoot him!”

  Normally, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but my hands shook and sweaty palms made my grip slippery. I didn’t want to risk missing and clipping Slade by mistake. “I can’t!”

  When Slade looked over his shoulder at me, Zeke clocked him on the side of the head and took off running again. Slade swept his feet under Zeke’s legs, knocking the fat bastard to the ground. Then Slade jumped over and grabbed the gun from my hands. He spun and took a shot.

  The bullet whizzed by a good foot from Zeke’s head. He lurched off the ground and rammed his good shoulder into Slade. The assassin cursed and fell on his ass. Zeke loomed over him, but Slade still had the gun.

  Now, I thought, now he’ll get him.

  Slade pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide again and lodged itself in an HVAC unit. My mouth dropped open; shocked he could miss such an easy shot.

  Zeke, spurred on by adrenaline, ran towards the door – and me. Driven by pain and fear, he barrelled right towards me. I bent my knees and pulled my spare gun from my waistband.

  For one second, Zeke’s face was a mask of rage coming towards me. Then time slowed, and the gun in my slippery grip exploded. Blood burst from Zeke’s right eye socket. His body jerked back, his arms going wide in forced surrender. He ignited before his body hit the rooftop.

  I stood still for a moment as the shock of what I’d done soaked in. “I did it,” I whispered. “I finally did it.”

  Slade groaned on the ground nearby. I walked over and gave him a hand up. “You OK?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Sorry ’bout that,” Slade said, motioning vaguely. “It’s been a while since I shot a gun.”

  “No problem,” I said, somewhat shakily. “At least we got him.”

  “You did good,” he said. He gently pulled the gun from my steely grip. “You did real good.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Guess we’ll need to call the sweepers to clean up this mess.”

  “We need to go back to the hotel to gather the evidence. I’ll call it in then.”

  Just then, the door to the roof slammed open. Mischa exploded through it at full speed. When she saw the pile of ash smouldering on the ground, she yelled, “No! This was my kill.”

  Slade shot me a grin. “Day late and a dollar short as usual, Mischa.”

  Mischa stamped her feet and punched the wall – a vampire temper tantrum. Pitiful.

  Slade turned to me and slung his arm across my shoulder. “Come on, Sabina. Let’s go celebrate your first kill.”

  I couldn’t sit still on the way home. By the time he turned into my neighbourhood, Slade looked at me with a rueful smile. “I remember my first kill,” he said wistfully.

  Needing something to do to distract me from my restlessness, I turned to him. “Tell me about it.”

  He shrugged. “Not much to tell really. It was a female. She’d cooked some of the Dominae’s books. Siphoned a couple hundred thousand before anyone detected it. Easy kill. But I’ll never forget how I felt after.”

  “Excited?”

  He smiled, turning into my driveway. “More than that. The closest word I can think of is aroused.” He punctuated the word by slamming the van into park.

  “Yes,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Aroused. That’s the perfect word.”

  He watched me in the dark, saying nothing.

  “Do you still feel that way after a kill?” I asked, licking my lips.

  He answered with his mouth, but not with words. One second he was on his side of the van, watching me with heat in his eyes. The next he was on me. I welcomed the contact, revelling in another type of adrenaline. His fang scraped my lip, and he sucked on the sting, heightening the pain . . . and the pleasure.

  We barely made it inside before the clothes came off. A small voice in the back of my head wondered if this was a mistake. After all, sex and business never mix well. But, another voice said, You’re off the clock. The mission was successful, and it’s time to celebrate.

  I chose to listen to the latter voice, and welcomed Slade’s tongue in my mouth once again. His copper scent combined with the musk of exertion from the night’s battle. He slammed me up against the wall and I felt the drywall give with the force of his thrusts. I wrapped my legs around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He filled me thoroughly, but I wasn’t content to let him have control.

&n
bsp; He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair. I jerked away and lowered my legs. I pushed him back roughly towards a dining room chair. Slade smiled and obeyed. He fell heavily onto it and pulled me down after him. My legs bracketed his hips. I dug my toes into the hardwood floor for a better grip. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving small beads of blood, which I licked away. Slade groaned and urged me on with delightfully lewd whispers.

  I’d had sex before, but those had been restrained, polite affairs with upper-class vampires who thought bagging a mixed-blood would be an adventure. But behind Slade’s tightly controlled facade lurked an animalistic lover. One spurred on by the excitement of the kill. My own internal beast rose to meet his and I gave him back as good as I got. Scratching, clawing, fucking until we were both left sweaty and spent on the cold floor. And when my orgasm exploded, the primal scream came from the dark place inside where the beast lived.

  The next evening, I woke to Slade’s hand caressing my hair. My eyes fluttered open. He sat on the edge of the bed. His clothes were on and he had his keys in his hand. “You’re leaving?” I said.

  “Got to go pick up our payment, but I’ll be back.”

  “Cool,” I said lamely. The muscles in my shoulders relaxed. It’s not that I expected him to declare himself just because we’d screwed. But still. No one liked it when their partner dashed out the door after a night of hot, sweaty sex. “Fifty–fifty, right?” I joked.

  He smiled. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “You’ll find I always get what I want,” I said.

  He leaned down and kissed me. Unlike the frenzied kisses last night, this one was long and slow. Tender. Almost like he was saying goodbye instead of “see ya soon”. When he pulled away and smiled, I shook off the heavy feeling of foreboding. “Fifty–fifty it is,” he said.

  “Excellent. When you get back we’ll celebrate.”

  For a split second, I thought I saw a shadow pass behind his hooded eyes. But then he patted my ass and rose. “It’s a date. Be back soon.”

  I leaned back in the bed and listened to him leave. His footsteps on the hardwood floor. The click of the door closing. Then, a few moments later, the van’s engine roaring to life.