Bitten by Ecstasy: 2 (Dark Judgment) (23 page)

Man whore.

“But you have come to me for a different reason.”

“Yes.” Bastien inclined his head. “Thank you for agreeing to see us,
Regina
.”

“Please. Call me Lara.” She glided closer to them, her fingers trailing down Ryn’s face and under his chin before dropping to her side. “Faolan’s tale of a hippogryph and his human companion seeking a favor stirred my curiosity.”

Lara’s midnight gaze skimmed over Bastien, touching on his pale hair, the scars, down to his wide chest, narrow hips and long legs. The return trip was slower, more intimate. Sinéad gritted her teeth. She might be new to this jealousy thing, but she was an old pro at snatching off limbs. The female had one time to stare at him as if he were a hemophiliac’s neck…

“So tell me, Bastien. What brings you to me?”

He surveyed the room, taking in the vampires who had grown silent and obviously hung on every word they uttered. He brought his unblinking perusal back to Lara.

“Would you mind if we spoke in private,
Regina
?”

She studied Bastien, and Sinéad waited, her heart pounding in her chest and echoing in her ears like a bass drum.

Finally, the female nodded. “I’ll entertain your request, hippogryph,” she said silkily. Translation,
I’ll give you this, but you’d better make it worth my while.
She nodded and, behind them, the vampires filed out of the room. Ryn rose to his feet. “Not you,” Lara snapped then smiled. Yet the slash of her mouth emanated no warmth or amusement. Instead it resembled the sharp edge of a blade. “After all, without your particular skill set, we wouldn’t have the pleasure of their company, would we?”

The thrust of the verbal strike was a direct hit. Sinéad risked another peek at Ryn and, though his face maintained the same carefully blank mask, once more heat flickered in the black depths of his eyes before his thick lashes dipped, hiding his emotions.

“I appreciate your discretion and patience.” Bastien’s brows lowered and, coupled with the scars, his affable demeanor vanished, replaced by a menacing male with a beast barely leashed beneath the surface. “I want revenge. And I came to you to get it.”

* * * * *

Surprise flickered across Lara’s features before delight chased it away. He wouldn’t have been shocked if she’d clapped her hands and bounced on the toes of her stiletto boots. Her glee sickened him and he had to swallow his disgust to continue the necessary charade.

“About fifty vampires are headed out, Nico,”
he sent along the telepathic link connecting him to the former
Dimios
and the
krinos
.
“That makes almost one hundred in the house, not counting the
regina
and one male left in here with Sinéad and me.”

“Got it,”
came his friend’s deep voice.
“Can you two handle them?”

“We have it covered. I’ll let you know when.”

“We’ll wait for your signal.”

“Do tell,” Lara climbed the three shallow steps to the dais again and settled on the chaise like a little girl anticipating a bedtime story. She crossed her legs and reclined on one elbow like a fanged, bloodthirsty Cleopatra, her avid black gaze fixed on him.

“I want revenge on the one who did this.” He touched the bottom of the disfiguring scar on his chin. “I want him dead—a painful death.” Bastien smiled, pouring every bit of hatred the memory of Evander evoked into the gesture. “But I can’t have it traced back to me.”

“Who was it?”

He paused. “The
Dimios
of the hippogryphs.”

Silence met his answer. The
regina’s
eyes widened slightly, but not in shock or fear. Fascination lit her from within and she painted her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue as if she could already taste spilled blood.

“What did you do to incur the wrath of your race’s executioner?” she asked, awe and admiration lowering her voice to a stage whisper.

“I fell in love with the wrong woman.” He wrapped an arm around Sinéad’s shoulders, drew her closer to his side. “Having sex with a human is frowned upon. But mating one?” He smirked. “I was labeled an abomination and traitor to our race. And became the target of our
peace keeper
.” He injected enough sarcasm into the last two words, Lara would have no illusions about where his loyalties lay.

“Which begs the question,” she rose with a gleam in her midnight eyes, “if the
Dimios
came after you, how are you alive?”

“Nicolai Abioud thought I was dead,” he said flatly. “He did this,” Bastien waved at his face, “and this.” He lifted the tail of his shirt and revealed the scars covering his chest and abdomen. “
The Dimios
believed he killed me and I didn’t disabuse him of the notion.”

“All for love.” Lara smiled. “How lovely. You, Sinéad, are a lucky woman to have a male who would die for you.” The female’s gaze turned to Sinéad with an unblinking, unnerving stare. It was hungry. Almost…feral. He shifted slightly, blocking her from the
regina’s
view. The vampire’s smile widened. “While I admire your passion, Bastien, why would I assume the risk of not only attacking the law of the hippogryphs, but declaring war on your king? It would be foolish.”

Bastien crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. He studied her in silence several moments before his mouth curved, tilting at the corner. “Ah, but we both know you wouldn’t be assuming the risk.” He narrowed his eyes. “The cruxim would.”

The smile didn’t drop from her face, but instead froze and sharpened into a slash of scarlet. Sinéad’s fingernails pinched his skin as she fisted the back of his shirt in warning. “Careful, hippogryph,” Lara said, her voice as soft as dark silk.

“I mean no disrespect,
regina
.” He dipped his head. “I only meant to point out you would be free of blame, the cruxim being the perfect cover for your involvement. And mine.”

All hint of warmth fled her lovely face, leaving behind the stark, bare features of the animal beneath the civilized façade. Her eyes were black chips of ice, skin stretched tight over prominent cheekbones. Large, long incisors pressed hard against her lips.

“It’s a sweet love story, and if I agree to your request, what will you give in return?” Her eyes flicked over his shoulder and tension pulsed through his muscles. “Unfortunately, I’m not a romantic, but a pragmatist. What does granting this request gain me?”

“Me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”
Sinéad barked in his head even as Lara leaned farther forward, elbows propped on her thighs.

“Trust me.”
Aloud, he said, “In exchange for your help, I’ll pledge myself to you for five years.”

“A hippogryph in my service? Hmmm. Interesting. In what capacity?”

Relief winged through him. So close. They were so close.

“To serve at your will. Spy, assassin. Whatever you need.” Bastien paused. “Except lover. I am not a whore.” He dipped his head. “With all due respect,
Regina
.”

She drummed her fingers against her knee. Stopped. Grinned. “In my experience when people say ‘with all due respect’, it means they are disrespecting you.” She chuckled, not appearing offended by Bastien’s condition…or implication…behind the agreement. “But I am impressed, Bastien.” Her gaze bore into him. “And as tantalizing as the thought of you in my bed is, I’d much rather have your power then your cock at my disposal. I accept your offer.”

She rose, a fluid column of flame burning bright with the promise of death and destruction. Crooking a finger in Ryn’s direction, she moved down the steps. Excitement flushed her cheekbones, pushed short puffs of breath through her parted lips. “Bring the—”

A deafening boom exploded seconds before the floor rocked beneath his feet.

“Shit!”
He reached behind him, grabbed Sinéad to steady her.
“Nico, what’s going on?”

“Sorry, Bastien,”
Nicolai replied immediately.
“The timetable just sped up. They spotted us so we’re coming in. Hard.”

Bastien ground his teeth together.
“We’re on, sweetheart,”
he warned Sinéad as another blast shook the building. Orange and red blazed outside one of the narrow floor-to-ceiling windows. Adon had unleashed his fiery gift on the
castel
. The eerie glow stretched across the floor, flickered over the
regina’s
chest and pale face. Horror and a dawning rage shimmered in her eyes, drew her lips back from her teeth.

A crash behind him.

“Regina! We are under att—”

A cough. Wet gurgling. Bastien whirled around. A vampire stood inside the open doorway, fingers scrabbling at the dagger buried in his throat.

Sinéad was already reaching for a second knife stashed in her boot, which was miraculously missed when they entered. Grim determination steeled her features as she shrugged out of the long leather duster and tossed it aside. Sliding another weapon free of her boot, she palmed the handles of two daggers and sank into a crouch as four more vampires poured into the room.

Fear clawed at his chest, climbed up his throat. Male and hippogryph roared at the sight of their human mate facing off against the faster, stronger immortal predators …but damn, not as skilled.

Sinéad charged forward, her braid flying behind her, silver blades flashing. Bastien growled. His talons ripped free and fangs burst inside his mouth. Though a red mist dropped over his vision, it didn’t hamper his sight.

“Traitors!” Lara screamed. “Ryn!”

Bastien spun on his heel to meet the threat of the vampire. The male’s eyes flared in surprise then narrowed into menacing slits. Ryn hissed, his incisors lengthening until the lethal points dropped over his bottom lip. Heat ignited the black depths of his eyes and he lowered until his fingertips glanced the floor, his knee hovering several inches above the white marble,
Twilight’s
version of a football player.

Bastien snarled, talons curled. Ready.

The vampire rushed him…tore past him.

With a growl that vibrated with fury, Ryn leaped, soared. Pounced on a vampire darting through the open door. A pain-filled scream bounced off the walls before blood spurted from the bloodsucker, painting Ryn in arterial spray.

On one side of Bastien, his woman slashed and stabbed, a feral grin curving her crimson-splattered face. On the other side, a traitorous vampire eviscerated and beheaded. With a roar, Bastien charged into the melee.

* * * * *

Sinéad ducked. Air whined as the male’s claws sliced the space where her head used to be. Triumph surged through her. With an abrupt upward jab of her
sgian
, she punctured the soft skin under the vampire’s chin. Followed it with a quick stab to the jugular. She left the small dagger
embedded in her enemy’s flesh as she sprang backward and slid her
gladius
free from her back scabbard. With a battle cry, she excused his head from his shoulders with a single slash.

“Behind you!”

Bastien’s bellow came an instant before footsteps pounded behind her. Her shoulder fell forward, her body rolling down and out of the way even as her brain shouted the command. She came to a halt on her knees and jerked her head up just as Bastien went airborne. His massive form soared above her in a beautiful, deadly bow, his razor-sharp talons outstretched. He slammed into the vampire with a deafening roar and landed as the two halves of the bloodsucker—split in half from head to groin—continued their path forward.

She grinned.
Damn, that was hot
.

“Cruxim.”

The snarl made the word sound like a filthy curse. Sinéad slowly rose. Her breath huffed past her lips in labored pants. Her arms ached, legs trembled with the strain of battle. Yet as Lara shot toward her, whistling through the air in a blur of crimson and midnight, Sinéad ignored her mortal body’s protests and fell into a position as familiar as a friend.

Sword next to her ear, elbow and leg extended, she waited.

Hold. Hold. Hold… Now
!

She sliced outward and up, meeting the
regina’s
thrust of razor-sharp claws. Tremors shuddered down Sinéad’s arms and fear raced through her veins. If the males she’d just fought had been strong, their matriarch put them to shame. Gritting her teeth, she steeled her resolve. Failure wasn’t an option. The future of her sisters—of their race—was at stake. She couldn’t go down, at least not without taking the vampire bitch with her.

They danced.

Thrust. Block. Stab.

Backpedal. Backpedal.

Clash.

She waltzed with death, parrying, whirling. Her strength flagged. A dozen tiny cuts sullenly oozed blood. Yet she still she kept the beat of their match.

Lara swiped at her chest. Sinéad blocked the blow.

A blood-red smile stretched the other female’s lips.

Death’s grin.

Sinéad read it in the
regina’s
triumphant expression as Lara drew her free arm back and plunged her dagger-sharp nails deep into Sinéad’s stomach.