Heart of a Warrior (3 page)

“Who sent you?” The vampire circled, looking for an opportunity to strike.

“The last vampire I killed. He said to tell you he’d see you in hell.” Nic laughed, feinted, and drew the vamp’s arm out in a swing that missed. Nic stepped to the inside. The point of his sword found its chest. The vampire didn’t disappear, but hung on the tip of the sword. Nic, teeth gritted, inched forward, pushing the blade deeper.

Holding his sword with both hands at chest height, Nic tightened his grip as the vampire slid toward him on the blade of the sword. Deadly, white fangs neared. Powerful hands reached for him, and black eyes blazed with hatred.

The vampire disappeared. Its weapon clattered to the ground.

Sheathing the great sword, Nic turned and faced the woman.

Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head to the side in question. “Some rescue. What took you so long?”

“Crosstown traffic’s a bear this time of night.” Nic gave her a shrug. Damn, she was only about five feet five, but every inch was packed with sexy female energy.

“Right. Hope you don’t mind, but I had to start without you.” She waved her hand at the room.

“That’s all right, as long as we finish together.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Well…” She raised an eyebrow. “Was it good for you?”

“Hell, I don’t smoke, but I think I need a cigarette,” he drawled.

“Kiss her, Nic, or I will.”

“Shut up, Cho, and let me handle this.”

Fiona turned her back on him and went over to the girls. “Party’s over. Get dressed, girls.”

Nic looked at her and frowned.

“When did she take over this operation?”

“When she was kicking vampire ass, is my guess.”

After leading the girls back to the pile of clothing, she put down the sword. Sifting through the heap, she pulled out jeans and a T-shirt, and then she held up shreds of what might have once been underwear. She tossed them to the side with a disgusted sigh.

Nic watched, biting back his moan as she slipped the jeans over her firm ass, hiding it from his sight.

“Nic. Hey, Nic. Snap out of it, Nic.”

She paused, her head tilted as if she’d heard something.

She shook her head and then helped one of the girls get her clothes on. Once dressed, the girl gave her a hug. The others waited for their turn. Seemed they all needed a hug right about then. Sniffling, they looked at her with gratitude and admiration. Like she was some sort of hero.

“Let’s go home, girls.” She herded them across the room to the stairs where Nic leaned against the wall.

Cho reclaimed his place on Nic’s shoulder and returned to his natural green color. Nic watched the girls go up the stairs, still in a tight huddle.

The woman of his dreams moved to his side and looked up into Nic’s eyes as he towered above her. Reaching out her hand as if to touch his face, she dropped it to pet the lizard riding on his broad shoulder.

“Cute lizard.” She smirked and headed up the steps.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. She said I was cute!”

“Shut up, Cho.”

Annie stood on the side of the road, trying to decide what to do. For the first time in months, she was alone. Free.

With nothing to wear, nowhere to go, and nothing to do but survive.

Survive.
The word echoed in her head as if nothing else mattered. Nothing did.

Only thing was, she had no idea how to do it.

Down the black-topped road, the open gates of the cemetery beckoned her. Once she walked out of them, she’d be on her own. Alone.

Annie had nowhere to go except back to Draco’s, and no transportation to get there. The only thing she had on was her fucking collar. And even if she did manage to make it to his lair, she had no idea what to do once she got there.

What she wouldn’t give to just go home and lie down in her own bed in her own room. That would be quite a scene. “Hi, Mom, Dad. I’m back from the dead. Don’t wake me until the sun sets.” That was
so
not going to happen.

It would be daylight in about five hours, and she needed somewhere to lair. She didn’t know much about being a vampire; Draco always made excuses when she’d asked to be taught. But being caught out in the sunlight was not a good thing—that much she did know. And how would she feed herself? Hell, the only blood she’d ever taken had been from Draco’s arm, and even then, she’d practically starved herself before she gave in, weeping, filled with self-disgust, and fed from him.

Back near the crypt, the roar of an engine coming to life broke the eerie silence of the graveyard. Then headlights came on, the van reversed, jerked to a stop, and then tore down the road like a bat out of hell.

The gleam of the lights raked her body, plunged her into darkness, and then hit her again. Terrified, she froze. She should have bolted for the depths of the cemetery, found a marker to hide behind, but her feet wouldn’t move.

The van pulled up next to her, and the driver stopped, leaned over, and opened the passenger door. The vampire Draco had called Ivan jerked his head at her.

“Get in.”

Naked, she wrapped her arms around her shivering body. “Draco?”

“Dead, like all the others. Get in.” Annie looked back at the crypt. She looked at the long drive and the gates and ran through the possibilities. Not many to choose from.

“Come on, we don’t have much time.” The vampire glanced back at the crypt.

Out of options, Annie slid into the seat and closed the door. He stepped on the accelerator, tore down the road until he got to the street, and then headed north, back to his lair, she assumed.

For a moment, standing outside in the night air, she’d felt free. It had been exhilarating, but as the cold set in and she’d been forced to think about her next steps, she realized she was still a prisoner.

“What’s your name?”

“Annie. Yours?”

“Ivan. You can wear my shirt.” Ivan pulled the van over and parked.

As he leaned over the seat to reach behind it, Ivan glanced at her body, but he made no move to touch her. He handed her the shirt. It was such a small kindness. She took a shuddering breath.

Hell, how pathetic have I become?

Barely controlling her tears just because he gave her his stupid shirt to wear, she slipped her arms into the blue button-down shirt and ran her shaking hands over the crisp cotton material. Too big, the French cuffs flopped as she tried to button the shirt. It smelled of him, a familiar crisp citrus aftershave and his musk. Annie hunkered down in the seat. The shirt swam on her, but she didn’t care. It was the first clothing she’d worn in months.

— • —

“This is my house.” Ivan pulled the van into a driveway next to an old Victorian two-story. There were no lights on in the house. Anne noticed he didn’t call it his lair.

They parked, got out, and Ivan led the way up the back steps to a porch. He unlocked the door, and they stepped inside. The room, a kitchen, was dark. It didn’t matter, she could see almost as well as if it had been daylight, one of the few vampire perks.

“Down here.” He unlocked another door and opened it. A dark stairwell gaped. He disappeared down it, and with a sigh, she followed.

Another locked door. Damn, the guy was more paranoid than Draco had been about locks.

When he opened the last door, the bottom of the stairs was bathed in a soft light. They walked down another hall, passing two more doors. At the end, he opened yet another door. Stepping aside, he ushered her into a large room, which was brightly lit by several lamps and ceiling fixtures.

Ivan tossed his keys on a side table near the door and waved at the brown leather couch.

“Have a seat.”

He’d given her permission to sit. Without thinking, she moved to obey and then stopped, staring at the couch as if she’d never seen one before.

Draco had always made her stand. If she’d disobeyed and sat, he’d beat her. Her fist clenched. No one was ever going to beat her again. Never. Or tell her what to do.

She remained standing.

Ivan strode to one end of the long room. An alcove separated by parted curtains held a king-sized bed. He turned and walked back, his fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw working, and his shoulders tensed. His amber eyes burned.

Annie watched as he paced, marching back and forth the length of his lair. Then, he spun around and hit the wall with his hands as he leaned into it. In his own way, he was having a temper tantrum.

She’d seen them before; Draco had been a master at it. He’d get furious over something stupid and then flail around, throwing things, smashing vases, shrieking obscenities. He’d bought vases just to throw them against the walls. Then he’d start on her.

She was glad he was dead and sorry she didn’t get to see it, but if she’d stayed, she’d be dead too. And she did not intend to die again, not for a long, long time.

Her gaze raked over Ivan’s body. She’d spotted him the moment he’d entered the crypt earlier. God, he was fine, that was for sure.

There was only one thing for a girl to do in a situation like this.

Take control.

“You must have loved your apprentice.”

•

Ivan froze and turned his head to her. Lost in his own anger and frustration, he’d forgotten she was there.

Control
. He needed to get control.

“Just pissed I lost a well-trained slave. Don’t you think Draco would feel the same if you’d been killed?”

She snorted. “Draco? He didn’t give a rat’s ass about me.”

“He never fucked you?” He’d recovered, breathing slower and eyeing her. He had to hand it to Draco; he had always picked beautiful converts.

“He threatened to a lot. He just never would admit he was gay, come out of the closet, you know. It was fine with me.”

Ivan didn’t understand about being gay or not being gay. A fuck was a fuck, a suck a suck, and he didn’t care who was on the other end. After you live a few hundred years, gender just doesn’t mean shit. Sex was nothing but release.

She shook her head. “But he liked to watch, you know, his male slaves with me. One time, Vlad visited, and he ordered me…” Her voice trembled as it faded, and she hugged herself.

Ivan turned away so she couldn’t see his reaction to her. Her vulnerability got him, just begging to be protected and cared for.
Bad idea, man
. No fucking way. He’d just gone through hell with his apprentice, David, and look what happened.

Six long months wasted.

He did several push-ups as he leaned against the wall.

If he was smart, he’d get rid of her as fast as he could. He could smell trouble all over her.

“You want to stay here?” Ignoring his own advice, he waved his arm at the room as he continued pumping up and down, burning off the anger.

“With you?” Her eyes narrowed. “As what?”

“My slave, of course.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder, surprised she’d asked. Draco had spoiled her, the stupid fool. However, since he hadn't turned her, Ivan had no hold on her; she’d have to stay voluntarily.

“Hell no.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to be anyone’s slave. Ever. Draco’s dead, and I’m free to choose. That’s how it works, isn’t it?” She jerked her chin up, but there was a waver in her voice, an almost childlike defiance.

“Yeah, that’s how it works.” He didn’t want her to go, but letting her know that would give her the power. He'd grown to hate being alone, which is why he'd taken an apprentice for the first time in fifty years.

“Just give me some clothes, and I’m out of here.” She jerked her thumb at the door.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” He shouldn’t care.

“Draco’s place. I guess I could walk there.” She shrugged her shoulders, and the shirt flashed a glimpse of blonde hair in the V of her long legs. The hem hit her at mid-thigh. She looked so small, so vulnerable, standing there engulfed by his shirt. He swallowed and locked down his feelings.

“Fine. Do what you want.” He turned away from her again, his back muscles tense, his body rigid. Every part of him wanted her. He stole a glance at her from over his shoulder.

She unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it from her shoulders, left it in a pile on the floor, and went to Ivan.

She placed her hands gently on his back.

“Don’t touch me! I didn’t give you permission,” Ivan snarled and extended his teeth. She jerked her hands away as if she’d been burned.

Pushing past his threats and killer teeth, she reached out again. He could kill her easily, rip out her throat or snap her neck with his bare hands. She skimmed his skin with her fingertips. Under the steady pressure of her palms, his muscles began to relax.

“You don’t need this anymore.” Moving in slow motion, she reached around him and found the buckle holding the scabbard. She drew the leather strap from the buckle, freeing him. The scabbard and sword dropped to the ground with a solid
thunk
.

He took a deep breath and held it as she placed her hands on his back again.

“I said don’t touch me.” A long growl rumbled in his chest, but she didn’t remove her hands. She had more guts than he’d given her credit for.

Kneading hard muscles, she massaged his shoulders. He dipped his head forward as her strong fingers climbed the tight cords in his neck, and his continuous growl lessened.

“Let’s get rid of this toga.” She hooked a finger under the fabric and slipped it off his shoulder. It joined the scabbard on the floor.

She traced the outlines of the muscles across his back, then along the curve of his ass, the slope of his thighs, back up across his shoulders, and down his arms. She slid her hands lower to massage the small of his back.

“Don’t touch me.” His voice was just above a hoarse whisper.

“You
need
to be touched, Ivan.”

She massaged the tight muscles of his arms. Her hands were surprisingly strong. She leaned her breasts against his back. The exact spot where the rock-hard points of her nipples pressed into his flesh tingled. He wanted them in his mouth, to taste them. Make her moan.