Inferno (6 page)

“Bright Lady, I had no idea. They’ve got to be crazy to want to bring that kind of evil back into the world.”

“Crazy and power hungry.” He resumed stroking her legs through the blanket absently, as if to comfort himself with the repetitive motion. “Duncan thinks they’ve been behind all the evil that has followed me most of my life.”

“What kind of evil?” She was afraid to ask but needed to know.

“The murder of my brother and the beginning of my immortality. The death that started the fire in Chicago and my vendetta against the
were
lords. All that and more. Evil has followed me at every turn, tempting me to turn against what I know to be right and good.” His expression was tormented, spurring her into motion. Despite the pain in her side and wrist, she moved next to him on the couch, reaching out with her good hand to take his.

“Why?” She searched his bleak gaze, offering her warmth when she saw the cold pain there.

“Why would they do this to you?”

“To try to turn me to their side. Or so Duncan believes. Personally, I don’t see why they’d target me, but it sure feels like they have. There’s no other explanation for all the bad things that seem to follow in my wake.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dante.”

She was drowning in his gaze, mesmerized by his regard as he moved closer. She met him in the middle and their mouths touched, igniting a fire to rival the one that had consumed Chicago so many years ago. This fire however, wasn’t destructive. It was
seductive
. It flamed within them both, drawing them near, binding them together in the moment.

He deepened the kiss and she was right there with him, pushing herself into his arms, into his body, despite the pain in her ribs. It was nothing compared to the pleasure to be found in his embrace. He moved over her, setting her down on the couch beneath him as he held himself above, keeping the majority of his weight off her smaller body. He was careful with her, and she liked that. In fact, she liked everything about his possession. Here was a man who knew how to make a woman feel cherished. Even with something as simple—and as overwhelming—as his kiss.

Dante’s hand skimmed under the loose hem of the borrowed sweatshirt to ride up the bare skin of her midriff, grazing lightly over the area that hurt like the dickens and upward, to cup her breast. She sighed into his mouth when his big hand took possession of her sensitive skin, his fingers going right to the hard peak that so wanted his attention.

She wanted more. So much more…

The sound of a throat clearing rather loudly at the entrance to the living room interrupted. Dante pulled back first, frustration and chagrin clear on his handsome face. Megan was still in a fog of desire that he’d created, unsure of her surroundings.

The sound came again as she shook herself, and Dante’s hand slipped from beneath her shirt.

He helped her sit up.

“Dinner is served,” Duncan intoned with clear amusement.

Megan looked at the doorway in shock to see the other man there. He winked at her before turning to leave, and she felt heat flood her face. He’d seen what they were up to and deliberately interrupted. She’d have to thank him, despite her embarrassment. Either that or kill him. She would decide later.

“You’d better go eat. You need your strength.” Dante’s resigned amusement rubbed her the wrong way. She decided to give him the silent treatment and beat a hasty retreat toward the kitchen.

She couldn’t move too fast with her injuries, but she walked quickly, with as much dignity as she could muster. She refused to acknowledge the sexy chuckle that followed her out of the living room.

She found Duncan in a gourmet kitchen that sparkled. She realized that while Dante kept it for show, he certainly didn’t have need of a place to prepare food. Still, it was a nice room with comfortable seating. It had a large table and work area and Duncan had something simmering on the stove that smelled wonderful.

Her stomach growled.

Duncan made no comment as he dished up a large plate of thick beef stew for her. He served them both, then took the chair opposite her with a satisfied grin.

“Dig in. I know you
weres
have healthy appetites.” He’d given her almost double the serving on his plate and while she felt hungry enough at the moment to eat the entire thing, mass quantities of food wasn’t her normal routine.

“I’m only half
were
,” she said quietly as she began to eat. “I probably eat more than the average girl, but I don’t think I’m up to full blood status.”

He looked up at her, tilting his head to the side, considering. “As I told Dante last night, you’re an enigma, Megan. I’ve never seen a soul like yours.”

“Seen many, have you?” She decided to fight him with humor if possible. He was getting close to subjects she’d rather not discuss.

“More than my share.” He sat back and seemed to concentrate on his meal.

“If I’m an enigma, what are you? I’d say that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?” Offense was sometimes the best defense.

“
Touché
, my dear.” He sent her a small smile. “I suppose you’ve earned the right to know who you’re dealing with. I’m half-human and half… Come on, won’t you even try to guess?” She liked a challenge. “Well, you’re not
were
. I’d recognize that right off. And you’re not like Dante. So that leaves a few other possibilities, all of which seem
im
possible.”

“When you’ve exhausted all the possible answers, you have to start looking at the impossible ones. Come on, what’s your best guess?”

“Well, I’ve heard stories about…um…fey. Though it’s said they rarely visit the mortal realm.”

“True,” he said, beaming at her. “Still, your instincts are good. I’m half-fey.”

“No way.”

“Way.” His grin teased her.

She sat back, her meal forgotten. She was sitting at the table with a real live elf!

“No wonder you’re so magical. Even Dante seems a little in awe of your power.”

“
Och
, he’ll get over that soon enough and revert to our old relationship. He was injured, you see, during the battle with the
Venifucus
mage. I had to give him a little sip of my blood to save him, and it’s left him a little…weird.”

“I heard that!” came Dante’s shout from down the hall. Duncan chuckled.

“Mind your own business,” Duncan called back.

Megan felt like she was in a fraternity house with two overgrown frat brothers lobbing insults at each other. The very idea of it made her laugh. Frat boys with ramped up supernatural powers.

Too funny.

“No wonder he’s so compelling. He got a dose of your magical whammy when he drank your blood, huh? I thought fey blood could kill a vampire.”

“Right you are about that. Full fey blood is too strong even for our immortal friend, but I’m a cat of a different color. I’m only half-fey. To a bloodletter, my blood is a rare delicacy. It gives them too much power, so as a general rule it’s not done to give them even a taste. This was a special circumstance. I knew Dante years ago and have always known him to be a man of honor.”

“You’re watching him, right? I mean, that’s why you’re here. Isn’t it?” He saluted her with his water glass. “You think on your feet. I like that in a woman. To answer your question, yes, I’m keeping an eye on him until the effects wear off, but I would probably be here anyway. As I said, Dante and I knew each other long ago. I’ve been away from this realm a long time and now that I’m back, it’s time to catch up with old friends. If war is on the horizon, you can be sure that Dante d’Angleterre will be on the front lines, as he was in the past.”

“And you’ll be right beside him, won’t you?” She could almost see the glow of power as a golden light around this strange half-fey warrior. It drew her, calling to her sense of honor, of what was right. She had to resist. She had a mission of her own, a chance to finally clear her family name, and she had to see it through to the end no matter the cost.

Dante sauntered into the kitchen, a large box in his hands. It tinkled as he moved, telling her there was glass inside. The faint odor of fermented grapes and alcohol reached her sensitive nose. It was wine.

“I haven’t forgotten that you called me weird, fairy boy,” Dante muttered under his breath as he headed toward the largest wine cooling unit she’d ever seen. He opened the glass door and began placing bottles from the box into the cooler.

Duncan answered with a mock growl and launched a cloth napkin at Dante’s back. It slid off and hit the floor.

“I’m not picking that up.” Dante pointedly ignored the scrap of white fabric at his feet. Megan couldn’t help it. She giggled.

Dante turned and favored her with a wide grin. “I’m glad you find us amusing,” he said, and the funny thing was, she believed he meant it.

“Sorry. You two just don’t act like I’d expect two powerful supernaturals to behave. Remember, I’m a loner. I don’t have much experience hanging out with your kind—or even my own kind.”

“Why?” Duncan asked softly, reclaiming her attention. “Why do you walk alone, Megan?

Where’s your family? Your pack?”

“I have no pack. I never have. As for my family…they’re all gone. I’m the only one left of my line. After me, it will be no more.”

She didn’t tell them that she thought perhaps that was a good thing. After all, the twin wolf
were
lords who had caused her line so much shame were long gone, but their descendants still paid the price. Megan would end it. She would repay their wrong and restore her family’s honor. Then the line would die out with her. It was sort of poetic really.

“It’s not natural,” Duncan said quietly. “
Were
place great value on their family units, packs, clans and tribes.”

She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m only half
were
, and I’ve never known what it was like to be part of something like that.”

“And you never knew your father?” Finished stowing the wine, Dante moved to stand beside her. “Was it just you and your mother? No siblings?”

“No. No brothers or sisters. Just mom and me. And now she’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Dante crouched at her side, cupping her cheek in one warm, powerful hand. “I know what it is to lose loved ones and to be alone in the world.”

“It isn’t so bad, really. I like my freedom. I get the feeling pack life would be too restrictive for me.”

“Perhaps,” Dante agreed. “But you should have had the opportunity to find out. It’s one thing to choose to be alone. Another to have a solitary existence thrust upon you.” How well her ancestors knew that truth. They’d been ostracized from all
were
society for what they’d allowed to happen. Bad decisions and bad information had led them to a heinous mistake that could never be fully recompensed. For over a century, they and their descendants had worked to right their wrong, but the stain was deep and was hard to cleanse.

Megan was almost there. This last mission and she’d been promised absolution for herself and for her family line. Her ancestors were gone. Nevertheless, she knew their spirits watched over her, waiting for the day she completed the task so they too, could be free to move on. It was a huge responsibility to have resting on her shoulders, but she knew no other way. She’d been raised with the knowledge of her biggest task in this life and had worked steadily toward achieving her goal. Now it was almost in sight.

She couldn’t let her feelings grow conflicted. She couldn’t get attached to Dante d’Angleterre.

He was a job to her—a means to an end. He had to be. She couldn’t allow it to go any deeper, no matter how tempting he was.

She drew back from him, taking her empty plate in hand and standing. She moved toward the sink. Duncan rose and intercepted her, taking the plate out of her hands.

“I’ll wash up,” he said gently. “You still need to be careful of your injuries.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t know where to go, but she needed space. “I’ll be in the living room if that’s okay.”

Dante watched her as she left. She could feel his eyes on her all the way down the hall, and she didn’t breathe freely again until she was out of his view.

“She’s running scared,” Dante said quietly after he’d closed the swinging kitchen door. “But from what?”

Duncan turned from placing the clean plates on the draining board. “From you, I think. At least at the moment. You’re overwhelming the poor lass, my friend, and I have to wonder why.

She’s
were
. She’s not for you.”

“She’s only half
were
, Duncan,” he argued before he thought better of it.

“And what’s her other half? Human? Or some mongrel mixture of human and something else?

Even I can’t tell yet.” Duncan sighed. “It’ll come clear in time, I think. In the meantime, we need to keep an eye on her.”

“Agreed.” He ground his teeth in frustration. “Can you sit with her for another hour or so? I have to check a few things.”

“Sure. I’ll catch a nap later. Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks.” Dante stalked from the room, avoiding the living room, and headed for his office. He had work to do.

An hour later he was no closer to discovering where Megan had come from or exactly what she was. He had checked his messages however and discovered he’d been summoned. A summons from the Mistress wasn’t something he could ignore. He RSVP’d for himself and Megan. Maybe taking her out in public would rattle a few cages and elicit more information. It was worth a shot.

He put out feelers with a few old friends, but it would take time to get a response. For now he was at a dead end. He could find no record of Megan anywhere. That in itself was suspicious.

Then again, the few lone wolves he’d known in the past had been good at covering their tracks and hiding their presence from affiliated
weres
.

He placed a few calls and ordered some items to be delivered. An hour later, his plans were set, and he had only to collect his date for the evening. He swept into the bedroom after only a perfunctory knock, a bulging garment bag in one hand, another bag containing matching shoes and accessories in the other.