Hunted, The Complete Edition: A Full-length Steamy Vampire Romance (New England Nightwalkers) (12 page)

G
abriel scanned
the room with a dispassionate eye, taking in the scene. And man, was it a scene. Vampires decked to the nines. Some wearing steampunk garb from their own collections that they'd been keeping packed away in old cedar chests for centuries, some in barely there mini-dresses from the modern era. But each nightwalker down to the last had brought their human familiars with them.

He glanced at his watch and wondered for the first time if Zara hadn't changed her mind. He couldn't deny a part of him hoped she had. But as midnight approached and his solitude garnered more than one sidelong look from Irena, he knew that would be worst-case scenario. He was about to reach for his cell phone to check on Zara when his boss sauntered over to him, her hostess party-smile fading as she approached.

"Gabriel. Having a nice time tonight?"

He offered her a clipped nod but said nothing.

"The others are used to you standing there, sober and alone as a priest while the party goes on around you, but you and I...we know this year is different, don't we? So where is Zara?" Her sherry-colored eyes drilled into him and he cocked his head at her, keeping his face impassive.

"She had another party to attend but will be here shortly."

Irena nodded her head slowly before adjusting the plunging neckline of her black gown. "I'm glad to hear it. How are things progressing there?”

“Well.”

“So well that you weren’t able to come to work yesterday or the day before?”

He’d hoped to put off this discussion until tomorrow, when he would be gone and Irena would be forced to have it with someone else as she lamented how she hadn’t seen the signs of his imminent departure. Backed into a corner, he had no choice but to take the offensive.

“Exactly,” he said, his voice ice cold. “Make up your fucking mind, Irena. You wanted me to tell you if she was a vampire hunter. She’s not. You wanted me to dig deeper, find out why she came to the club that night, who she is, where she came from. I’ve done that. She’s no one. Nothing. But still, you want me to keep pressing. The woman fancies herself in love with me now, and in order to maintain the illusion that I feel the same way and do the job you’ve tasked me to do, I’m sticking close. Now, I’m spending too much time with her?”

Irena’s lips went tight and she ran a hand through her dark hair. “You’re making me sound like a hard to please bitch.”

“No. I’m making you sound like a paranoid, grieving woman who needs to take a step back and reevaluate.”

She looked both wounded and taken aback by his words and he almost felt bad saying them. But just because she was right about Zara didn’t make them less true. Irena was in a downward spiral and needed to take some time to deal with her emotions of guilt and sadness over Melissande’s death. Until that happened, no one was safe from her mercurial and often dangerous moods. The fact that Zara had, indeed, been connected to Melissande’s death through her father didn’t change a thing.

“Look, I told you I wasn’t going to go back on my vow to mesmerize her completely, so I know it’s taking longer than you would like, but I can promise you, I’ve got it all under control. You need to trust me. She’s no threat to you or our kind.”

And, now that he’d spent the previous two days with Dr. Fenton and they were within hours of a solution to his problem, hopefully she never would be. If all went according to plan, they’d be able to leave this place tomorrow.

If she would still have him once he told her the truth.

He bridled that thought instantly. He couldn’t think about that right now. Failure wasn’t an option. All they had to do was get through tonight.

“Fine.” Her usually sherry-colored eyes had gone almost black, like glittering chips of onyx. “I’ll back off for a few more days so long as you promise to give me a full report before New Years. I want a list of everyone she’s ever known, past and present, schoolteachers, the whole nine. I’ll give you a bit more space to do this your way, but I’ll remind you that I became second in command here because I’m diligent and careful to a fault, Gabriel. Qualities that have served our people well time and time again. Melissande’s death has only confirmed my belief that we need to be more careful than ever. If you don’t understand that, we will agree to disagree.” The smile that curled her crimson mouth was anything but warm. “Now, go get something to eat. You look like shit."

Gabriel inclined his head and made for the buffet table as Irena moved through the crowd. It was groaning with food and drink, but none of that was going to touch the gaping hole in his gut. Irena had meant for him to raid the bar for its plentiful store of blood that the nightwalkers were enjoying in copper mugs like it was mulled cider. He made a mental note to add that to the list of things he would have to ensure Zara didn't see. Which meant using his powers on her, which he hated.

He vowed it would be the last time.

He bit back a snarl and flexed his hands in frustration. Both wrists ached from Dr. Fenton's trials the past two days. Pain in the true sense had been foreign to him for so long now. Something he hadn’t felt in a century. Which meant that Fenton, bless his little heart, was on to something. As he should be, considering what Gabriel had offered the man in return for his work and his silence. Everyone had a price.

Except Zara.

He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured the expression on her face when she'd seen the necklace he'd given her. The gems were world-class, the settings and craftsmanship classic and top-notch. But it hadn't been about the lavishness of the gift for Zara. He'd seen the expression in her eyes and she'd been moved that he'd chosen it for her.

His lips twisted into a grim smile as he thought of how she'd tried to shove it back at him. What woman tried to get a man to take back jewelry nowadays?

She was the treasure, and he'd be damned if he gave her up without a fight.

If Irena’s mood was any indication, she was close to the end of her rope in the patience department, and that meant she was unpredictable. Gabriel was a risk-taker in most things, but he wasn't about to roll the dice on Zara's life.

He glanced down at his watch again and frowned. Where the hell was she? He'd told her to text him the second she pulled into the parking garage so he could meet her and walk her in, but it was eleven forty-five and his phone remained silent and motionless in his pocket.

He leaned on the bar and waved one of the servers over. "Can I have a Scotch? Double, make it neat."

He waited for his drink, telling himself if he didn't hear from her in the next fifteen minutes, he was connecting to the tiny locator in her necklace. A low chorus of laughter sounded from the TK room and he turned to see what the commotion was about. From his vantage point, all he could see was the small crowd of nightwalkers gathered around the high-top tables.

"Here you go, boss."

The server, a human familiar who couldn't have been more than twenty, smiled suggestively as she passed him his drink. He nodded his thanks and held up his glass in salute before knocking it back. It would take a lot more liquor than that--twenty times what a human would drink--to affect him in any way, but he enjoyed the taste and it warmed him from the inside.

He was about to make his way toward the door to check on Zara when another chorus of laughter sounded from the adjacent room. Curiosity getting the better of him, he veered, changing direction, and headed toward the sounds. It was early yet, and the club had only closed its doors to regular customers an hour before to get the staff party started, but already there was a couple on the dance floor getting at it. Two nightwalkers, the male with his hand buried between her legs as she wriggled against him in ecstasy.

He traveled through to the back room and slowed to a halt. His view was mostly blocked, but judging by the way everyone was craning their necks toward the small stage in the far corner, someone must've decided to put on a show.

Uninterested in watching whatever it was, he was about to make his way toward the exit when a familiar scent flooded his senses.

Cherry blossoms and warm woman.

His
woman.

Zara was here in the club somewhere. But where? He sharpened his vision to peer around the room, searching her out, but came up empty. Had she disobeyed him and walked in instead of texting him, or had someone brought her here against her will?

His fangs pushed against his gums as rage coursed through him, making his vision go a hazy red. And then he heard it. Her husky, lilting tone, apologizing.

"Sorry, um, the music was supposed to start and I--"

She broke off, mumbling unintelligibly as he finally locked eyes on her. The stage was small and only two feet off the floor, but she stood in the middle of it, eyes wide with terror like she was standing in Carnegie Hall. And next to her on a little step stool sat a boom box straight out of the nineteen eighties that clearly wasn't cooperating.

Red-faced, she let out a pained laugh and bent to jab a finger at the buttons. A moment later, the strains of an R. Kelly tune filled the room, and his woman straightened. She was dressed in a red coat that covered her from neck to ankle. Her blonde hair was tied in a sexy knot on top of her head, and a pair of reading glasses had slipped down her perfect little nose. She sucked in a breath and shoved them back up with one finger. Her gaze tripped over the crowd, flicking past what seemed like every person until it landed on him. And when he gazed into the pansy-colored eyes, he was lost.

"This is for you, Gabriel. Merry Christmas."

Conflicting emotions swamped him, leaving him swaying on his feet in shock and confusion. Fury at her disobedience and fear for her safety coalesced with a sensual connection so strong, it nearly brought him to his knees. The former overrode the latter and he was about to cut a path through the amused crowd, snatch her off the stage and drag her out of the place.

But then she started to move.

First just her hips, rolling and swaying. Then, she lifted her hands above her head and closed her eyes as Mr. Kelly began crooning in that smooth falsetto. The chuckles that had been skittering through the room faded to silence.

Her forehead was wrinkled in concentration at first, but it didn't take long before her forehead smoothed and her lips curved into a siren's smile. Gabriel's cock went as hard as a tire iron and the urge to read her thoughts in that moment was strong enough to cause an almost physical pain. Was she thinking of him? Of them together? Of the last time he was inside her, thrusting inside her until she cried out his name?

She turned her back to the now-captivated crowd and began fumbling with the belt of her coat. When the laughter came this time, it was different. She wasn't the butt of the joke now. They were charmed, every single one of them, and the laughter was tinged with anticipation.

That shouldn't bother him. She was a stunningly beautiful woman with a warm charisma that made her very easy to fall in lust with, but that didn't stop him from wanting to drive a stake through every one of their black hearts.

"You can do it, little angel," a woman called to her in a throaty voice.

The nickname was a good one, because that was exactly what she looked like. A naughty little angel. And when she finally got the knot at her waist undone, every nightwalker in the room sucked in a sharp breath they didn't need.

She peered over her shoulder before turning again and tugging the coat from her shoulders, letting it slip slowly to the ground.

She was dressed in a black leather skirt so short, when she turned, he could see the enticing cheeks of her ass. She’d paired it with a nefarious bra in black lace that showed more than it hid. And around her slender neck was the circle of rubies he’d given her, glimmering like fat drops of blood.

Blood pounded in his ears as the hunger that had been slowly driving him mad came back full force.

Her eyes flitted nervously around the room as she swiveled and swayed. When her hands trailed to the front of her short skirt, his cock pulsed and thickened.

She fumbled with the catch of her skirt at first but then the zipper slid down in one swoop. She tugged, dragging it slowly down her long, lithe legs until it sat pooled on the floor by her trim ankles.

When he let his gaze slide upward again, he choked back a groan when he saw her panties. They shouldn't have been so sexy. Bikini, with gossamer strings tying the front and back triangles together, but he swore he could make out the slender patch of hair and the smooth lips of her pussy beneath the ethereal lace.

"Shit, she's gorgeous."

"I don’t know what I want to eat more, her or that puss-"

He hadn't meant to do it, but his fist shot out like a cannon, connecting with the throat of the chattering nightwalker beside him, hard enough to cut off his words. The guy had the grace to offer a curt nod of understanding and tacit apology as he backed away.

But the longer he watched, the further away reality became and the less he cared what anyone thought or saw. Because she was a sight to behold. She dipped and twirled, her inhibitions shriveling like a raisin in the sun the more intently he watched.

Soon, the sights and sounds of the others in the room faded to the background and it was only him and Zara as she danced. She stepped to the edge of the stage and beckoned him closer. And when he heeded her call, she leaned in and trailed one finger over his lips and then lower, down his chin, to his chest and lower still. Selina Kyle was gone and Zara’s smile was all Catwoman when she boldly cupped his aching cock in her soft little hand and squeezed.

His lips parted and he reached for her instinctively, wanting more. Needing his hands on her soft, exposed flesh. If he could trail his fingers over that plump swell of breasts. Brush his tongue against one of those tight nipples pressing against the thin barrier of her bra. If he could just sink his teeth into her neck...pierce her vein and drink long and deep of her life's blood, until the grinding hunger went away…

His fangs erupted through his gums and he bit back a snarl, hands shaking with desire and thirst as he tried to get a grip over his emotions and will them to recede. Zara was unaware of his agony as she straightened and cupped the back of his head to tug him forward, burying his face into her bosom.