Demon's Kiss (15 page)

Seth started toward the doorway, but Roxy came in before he ever got that far. “Where are Reaper and Topaz?” she asked.

Seth blinked, as if stunned, and sent a searching look back at Vixen, as if she might hold the answer.

“I don't know, Seth,” Vixen said.

He turned back to Roxy. “I don't know, either. You checked their rooms?”

Roxy nodded. “Checked the whole damn house. They're both gone. Didn't leave a note or say so much as a freaking word.”

“But…we're a
team,
” Seth muttered.

 

Topaz very nearly borrowed the Mustang for her mission but decided against it. The car was loud, as if it liked to boast of its power to anyone within earshot every time you stepped on its accelerator. And it was noticeable.

It was an eye-catcher, and she supposed she should admit, at least to herself, that she was enamored with it. She might just buy one for herself as soon as she got her money back from Jack.

Which was, of course, the
only
goal on her mind tonight. She didn't give a damn if Reaper and Seth burned the rogues' headquarters to the ground with Jack inside. She didn't care if he lived or died. But she wasn't going to watch her money go up in smoke along with him, so there was really no choice but to save him.

She mulled her plan over in her mind as she made her way through the night, cutting through woodlands, racing across fields, her pace faster than a human could possibly detect or perceive as more than a brief blur of motion; there and then gone.

She had to see to it that Jack wouldn't be there when the place was torched, so that he would be alive to return her half million dollars to her.

Period.

She was glad she'd decided to travel on foot, because a small, slender vampiress was much more silent and easily concealed than a bloodred muscle car any night of the week. She knew the location of the rogues' hideaway from what Reaper and Seth and even freaky little Vixen had said. She also knew that the vampires went out hunting within a few hours of sunset every night and returned well before dawn most of the time. So she would simply crouch outside the mansion and wait for them to come back from their nightly hunt, then try to catch Jack's attention mentally, while blocking her presence from the others. She would get him to come to her alone, and then she would figure out the rest.

She paused in her fast-paced journey at the shore of a glistening lake surrounded by woods, as if it were some closely guarded secret shared only by the trees and the wildlife. It was too beautiful not to admire, if only for a moment, while she pondered.

She couldn't really warn Jack of what was about to happen. He would warn the others, and then the entire mission would be ruined. But she had to make sure he wasn't in that mansion when it burned just after sunrise tomorrow.

The only method that came to mind was to take him somewhere and have sex with him until it was too close to dawn for him to make it back there. He would have no choice but to wrap his arms around her and hold her while they both slept through the day. And to be there, still holding her, when she blinked her eyes open at sundown.

The shore of this lake would be a perfect spot for making love to Jack Heart. At least until dawn drew close. But there must be shelter nearby. She looked around and spotted an upturned tree with a platter of roots and soil as big as a small house. They could huddle in the natural cave it created and pull brush in behind them to cover the opening. They could lie there all day long, their bodies entwined.

A shiver whispered up her body and emerged as a shaky sigh. She closed her eyes and tried to shake away the rush of desire. “I don't want him,” she told herself. “This is about money. Nothing more.”

But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie.

She turned in the direction of the mansion and, in a burst of motion, completed her journey. Then she took up a position in the woods across from the front drive and main entrance, crouching there and trying to sense Jack's presence anywhere nearby.

There was nothing. Vampires near, yes. But not him, and nothing from inside. The energies she picked up were odd—weak, or dulled somehow. Must be the dronelike vampire guards Seth had described, left behind to watch the place while the others went out to hunt. She suspected that she'd arrived too late to see them leave. But she would be here waiting when they returned.

“I
suggest you two find something to do to keep yourselves busy, instead of wasting your concern on Raphael,” Roxy said.

Seth tried to read her. Was she seriously unconcerned, or just trying to get him to stop worrying so much? “But what if he's gone over there? To the rogues' den? Alone?”

“He's not alone,” Roxy said. “Topaz is gone, too. Obviously the two of them are together. Maybe he felt there was more groundwork that needed to be done. Maybe they've just gone off to run an errand. Or maybe they're having a wild roll in the hay someplace. Who knows? It's not our business.”

Seth didn't even consider Roxy's ludicrous suggestion that Tope and Reap were having sex. Reaper was the epitome of the lone wolf. He wouldn't be interested. And if he were, Seth thought with an inner grin, Topaz would tell him where to get off in a hurry. Not only was she uninterested in a miserable loner like Reap, but Seth was pretty sure she was still hung up on her con man ex-lover, Jack.

Funny. He'd never thought of her as an idiot, but he guessed some women were where men were concerned.

He dragged his attention back to the subject at hand. “If they were leaving, they should have told us.” He knew he sounded like a petulant child feeling left out by a beloved parent, and he told himself to get over it. “I just feel like we need to be really clear with each other if this mission is going to be a success, that's all.”

“Mmm-hmm. Just remember whose mission it is, Seth. Raphael has been completing successful jobs like this one for a long time now, all by himself. He's not used to answering to anyone. And old habits are hard to break.”

“I guess.”

Roxy nodded, as if that was the end of the discussion, and glanced at Seth's companion. “Vixen, didn't you tell me earlier that you thought there was some trapping going on around this place?”

Seth glanced at Vixen, who met Roxy's eyes blankly for a moment; then suddenly her expression cleared, and she nodded. “Yes. There are traps in the woods all around us. Cruel things.”

“Why don't you and Seth use this time to try to find them, then? Perform a service for the local wildlife? Spring the damn things, or, better yet, demolish them. It'll give you something productive to do while we wait for Raphael and Topaz to get back.”

Vixen turned to Seth, which put her right up against his side, because she never seemed to move very far from him. His arm and shoulder, her breasts and belly…full contact. He loved it, and yet, he wasn't sure she meant it the way he hoped she did.

“Let's do it,” she said, beaming her huge brown eyes up at him. “Let's destroy the traps so no more animals have to suffer.”

“No
more
animals? You think some have already been caught?”

She averted her eyes a little too quickly, and said, “I wouldn't know. But if any have, we can free them, and maybe help mend their wounds.”

“And maybe lose a hand,” Seth muttered.

Her head snapped up again, but she wasn't beaming this time, she was frowning.

“Okay,” he said. “That's what we'll do. Come on.” He nodded to Roxy. “Be sure to let us know if the others show up.”

“I will. Watch yourselves out there. Don't forget to keep your guard up.”

Seth nodded, closed a hand around one of Vixen's, and led her through the house and out the front door.

 

Reaper had left the house before anyone else had even risen, so far as he knew, and all without being detected by the sharp-as-a-tack Roxy, who tended to be a real pain in the ass when she thought he was doing something he shouldn't be.

But he didn't have a choice here.

Seth had been dead right about the best course of action to take. Burning the rogues' base while they slept would be the quickest, cleanest, smartest way to be rid of them once and for all. He was proud of the kid, almost in spite of himself.

The problem was, Reaper couldn't do it. He couldn't burn Briar alive, despite knowing that she was a cold-blooded killer. Despite having seen her delight in tormenting poor Vixen with his own eyes. Despite fully believing that odd little female's sense that Briar was the most dangerous one in the entire rogue gang. And despite that every instinct in him was telling him that he was making a huge mistake, maybe the biggest one of his existence—maybe even a fatal one.

He had no choice.

Looking into her eyes, it was as if he knew her. Yes, she was entombed by darkness, but it was darkness built upon pain. He'd seen it. And he'd felt something, some pull, some perverse attraction, that compelled him to save her. Or at least to try.

She might already be too far gone, but there was simply no alternative. He had to try, even though he knew she didn't want to be saved. And that she wouldn't come with him willingly.

He waited near the end of the lane that led to the rogues' mansion until they went out for their nightly hunt, his presence concealed by brush and, more than that, by his longtime skill at blocking discovery, his senses honed only to hers. And when the vampires passed, Reaper followed. When they split up, he trailed her, and then he watched and he waited, skulking in the shadows while she stalked her prey.

It was another man. She seemed to prefer feeding on men. He was in his twenties, a bit younger than the last one, walking down the street with a half dozen others of the same age. College friends, Reaper thought. The scent of marijuana was thick on their clothing, on their breath. They were feeling very good, Reaper knew from reading their thoughts, heading to a party where they were sure to find willing females for a night of uninhibited sex.

“Excuse me,” Briar said, stepping out of the shadows.

The young men stopped in their tracks, every set of eyes tracing her shape, up and down, every eager young member getting hard at the sight of her. Yeah, that part he understood. They wouldn't have his ability to feel the danger wafting from her like a strong perfume. They would only see her full breasts, the plump, enticing cleavage exposed by the scooped neck of the skintight black blouse she wore. They would see only the perfect curve of her backside encased in snug-fitting stonewashed denim, and the stiletto heels with their open toes, suggesting all kinds of things to their horny young minds. They would see those intense, burning eyes with the hungry look in them that could easily be mistaken for sexual lust.

Oh, it was lust, all right. Bloodlust.

“Can we, uh…help you with something?” one said.

“'Cause, damn, baby, I'd
love
to help you with something,” said another.

“Maybe I have something
you
can help
me
with,” said a third.

Her target, though, was silent, just staring at her. She met his eyes, ignoring the others, pointed a finger with a bloodred, dagger-sharp nail at its tip, and said, “You. I want you.”

The young man swallowed hard, a tiny ripple of fear tiptoeing through him. But he wouldn't show that in front of his friends. Instead, he glanced at them, tried for a smug smile. “You guys go on ahead without me.”

They muttered as they walked on. “Some guys have all the luck.”

Briar watched them go, thinking she would get to them all, one by one. Of course, by the time she made her way through the entire group, they would know she was a predator. They would know that they were disappearing one by one. Each of them would begin to wonder if he were next. Their fear would be delicious.

Reaper closed his eyes as he read those thoughts. She was evil. God, she really
was
purely evil.

“Come here,” she said to the young man, and as he moved closer, she opened her blouse, exposing her breasts to him, to the night. He stared as if mesmerized. “Suck them,” she told him.

Blinking, he jerked his eyes up to hers, then looked up and down the sidewalk. People walked, traffic passed. “Right here?”

“Do it.”

He licked his lips, and then he was on her, bending her backward, suckling her breasts, first one and then the other, as she closed her eyes and relished the pleasure he gave her, even while anticipating the kill.

After several moments, he lifted his head, and she straightened upright, slid her arms around his neck and said, “My turn.”

“All right.”

She kissed his neck. He closed his eyes and thought he was the luckiest man alive, until she sank her fangs into his throat and began to drink.

Reaper had intended to let her take enough to sustain herself, to fulfill her hunger, and then to step in and stop her before she killed the victim. What he hadn't expected was the sudden thought that rushed from her mind to his.

You're not fast enough, Reaper. Not this time.

And the instant that he realized what that meant—that she knew he was there, had known all along—even as he lunged from the shadows to stop her, she bit down harder and then tore the man's throat open wide. Blood gushed into her, and she took all she could swallow before Reaper yanked her away.

The young man slumped to the ground, blood pumping from his jugular, the flow slowing already. It was too late to do anything for him. He was gone. Reaper turned to stare at her in disbelief.

She only smiled at him, her lips coated in her victim's blood. “The more you try to stop me, the more of them I'm going to take.”

He shook his head slowly. “No, Briar. You're not going to take
any
more of them.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not tonight…”

“Not any night. Not ever again, Briar,” he told her.

She frowned at him, not understanding his intent, and then he gripped her by one arm, flung her up and over his shoulder and lurched into motion with all the vampiric speed he possessed. “Because you're coming with me.”

Briar shrieked. She screamed and swore and pounded the hell out of him. He did nothing about it, just took the pain, though it was significant. She was a vampiress, after all. He didn't do anything at all besides hold her and run, until he felt her shouting out mentally to Gregor.

And that was when he had to act. He stopped moving, flipped her onto the ground, and fell on top of her to hold her still even as she tried to roll and escape. He tugged the syringe from his pocket as she twisted and writhed beneath him. Her breasts were still uncovered, and they rubbed against his chest. His pelvis pressed hard to hers to hold her down, while he flipped off the needle's cap and resisted the fire she was causing to rage in his loins. Finally he jabbed her in the ass, right through her jeans, and depressed the plunger, sending the tranquilizer into her.

She went still instantly. Her eyes widened, then grew blank before they fell closed again.

His breath rushed out of him as he sat there, straddling her hips. She was out now. Helpless. He eyed her breasts, recalled the pleasure that unfortunate mortal had taken in tasting them, and how hot it had made him to stand in the shadows, watching. He licked his lips, knowing now that she had been putting on a show for his benefit. She'd known he was there.

He bent closer, wanting, craving, and when he was very, very close, he watched her nipple harden in anticipation, sensing him there, even though she was out cold. He used his tongue, one long, slow lap, then a teasing flick or two. Fire raged in him, but he didn't close his lips around her, didn't suck. The temptation to do more would have become irresistible if he had, and he knew his own limits.

Drawing away, he got off her, stood up, then bent to pick her up and flip her over his shoulder, then began carrying her back toward the plantation, wondering how the others were going to react to his choice to abduct her, rather than burn her alive with the rest of her ruthless cohorts.

 

Seth walked through the woods, picking his way with care, watching for traps. Vixen more or less
skipped,
always on her toes, her face constantly to the wind, turning this way and that, almost as if she were scenting the air.

“Vix, slow down, would you? You're liable to step right into one of those traps you say are out here.”

“No chance of that,” she replied, her voice a happy lilt. “I know what they smell like now.” She stopped skipping and opened her arms, then spun in circles, her hair blowing behind her, until she got so dizzy she fell to the ground, her laughter like tinkling bells to his slightly besotted ears.

He went to her, bent and reached down to help her up. She lifted her hand to his, then gripped him and tugged, so he fell forward. He landed on hands and knees—knees on either side of her hips, hands above either shoulder. She kept right on smiling. He wasn't able to take this quite so lightly.

“I really like you, Vixen,” he said.

“I like you, too.”

“You make me feel…” He searched his mind for words, the kinds of flowery, romantic words that would sweep a woman off her feet, take her breath away. “You make me feel—”