King of Darkness (7 page)

Isabel continued to give him a dubious raised eyebrow, but after what seemed like forever, she rose from her chair and disappeared from the room. When she returned just moments later, she was carrying a large glass of water and two squat tumblers. A bottle of dark-colored liquid was wedged under her arm. After placing the water and smaller glasses on the desk, she conjured up a corkscrew as if from nowhere. A sommelier couldn’t have opened the bottle so fast. Strangely, her experience was almost comforting.

“Mmm.” She leaned close to the glasses as the velvety liquid flowed, drawing the scent into her lungs. “Beaujolais. One of my favorites. Low in tannins, too. It’ll be a good one for your first time.” A hint of impishness lingered in her smile.

Okay, he hated to look stupid, but… “I have no idea what that means.”

After Isabel took a small sip from one of the cups, a girlish giggle lilted from her lovely throat. “It’s thought that the tannins and anthocyanins in red wine, along with the age of the bottle itself, are what cause the drug-like effects that occur in vampires. So I thought I’d go with a lower tannin red for this—What?”

Not a single taste of the vino, but already Isabel’s words had him half hard and leering inappropriately. Damn.
Damn
. She was smart, too. Nothing turned him on like an intelligent female.

He shook his head. “Just enjoying the lesson.”

A flush crept across her face. “Okay. Well. Here we go.” She proffered a full glass, keeping one only half filled for herself. “I’m sorry we don’t have real wineglasses.”

He raised an eyebrow. “More for me?”

“I already had some at the club. I wouldn’t want to overdo it, or I’m liable to forget myself and try to take advantage of you.” Isabel’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Now who’s got a sense of humor?”

She smiled again, not as broadly, but it was amazing how his chest swelled at her change in expression. “Here. I’m gonna go put the rest away. Gimme a sec.”

Thad watched her go and then turned his attention to what he held in his hand. Before he could second-guess himself, he all but guzzled the fruity, plumlike drink.

As the red made an effortless descent into his stomach, a cold wave of panic swept through his bloodstream.
What
the
fuck
am
I
doing?

Isabel reappeared just in time to see Thad bolt upright on the bed, sucking wind as if he’d just run a marathon. “Whoa, whoa, easy… easy.” She rushed over and put her hand on his back, rubbing in lazy circles. Her hand was solid and satisfying against the fabric of his shirt. “You freaking out a little?”

His eyes met hers, but he didn’t respond. Didn’t need to.

“Okay, no problem. Totally normal. Everything’s fine. Breathe deeply for me.”

Thad dropped his head slightly and complied, noting that his heart rate stepped down a notch on her command. A few more breaths. Even better. He smiled his gratitude. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She removed her hand from his back. He hadn’t realized how warm it was until it was gone. “Listen, nothing bad is going to happen, okay? I drink this kind all the time.” One elegant finger ran around the rim of Thad’s now-empty glass. “Besides, you’re only having one glass. It can’t do too much damage. You already drank it, so you might as well sit back and enjoy the ride. It’ll be over before you want it to be, I guarantee it.”

Thad nodded. Right. She was right. He was such a flaming idiot. He had asked for this, after all.

At some point, Isabel must have swallowed hers as well, because the other tumbler had gone from half full to completely empty. He didn’t notice precisely when, because despite Isabel’s reassurance, his heart was still pounding out what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-how-could-you-think-this-is-a-good-idea-you-are-the-king-for-God’s-sake-do-you-really-think-a-stupid-glass-of-wine-will-put-you-on-the-path-to-your-destiny-your-father-would-be-so-ashamed, and no amount of deep breathing would make his heart shut up.

Thank goodness, Isabel rescued him from his internal monologue. “All set, Your Highness. I hope you enjoy your trip to Wonderland.” Thad couldn’t help but chuckle. Wonderland. Boy, didn’t that sound fun? When her tongue caught an errant drop of the Beaujolais and licked over the fullness of her lips, he managed to forget his fear altogether.

He leaned back against the headboard, stretching his legs out as he had previously. “So now what?”

Isabel reclined on the bed and aimed another angelic smile at Thad. “Now we wait.”

Six freaking a.m. After a fitful hour or so of sleep, Tyra was in the gym working out her frustrations and amping up her adrenaline. She’d woken up before the alarm, as predicted, and would be back at the shelter before too long. But she needed the exercise for her sanity, since she hadn’t been going out to hunt wizards. Wouldn’t be until Thad returned. It was imperative that she be able to reach him if he needed her.

Warm air stirred, and she stiffened in the middle of a squat before standing to rack the barbell. Her eyes rolled as she blew out a heavy sigh. “What the hell are you doing here, Siddoh?”

The reflection of a hulking male appeared behind her. His short brown hair was mussed in that I’m-too-sexy-to-use-a-comb way, and his hazel eyes burned with desire. “Oh, come on, Tyra. Is that any way to greet a friend?”

She glanced around the room, her gaze bouncing from the door to the mirrored walls to the bench that Siddoh stood beside. “I didn’t hear the door open. Don’t tell me you’ve been lurking in here since I showed up.” She gave a little tsk-tsk. “That seems pretty lame.”

He arched an eyebrow and threw a wicked smile her way while he stroked his chin. God, what a sexy smile. No matter how he’d pissed her off, that smile had always gotten to her. It was probably why this whole thing between them had gone on so long past its expiration date. The tips of his pearly white fangs peeked flirtatiously from behind his full upper lip. “Maybe I just wanted to see how much weight you could squat.” He eyed the barbell she had racked. “Five hundred, not bad.”

“It’s five twenty-five, asshole.” She smirked at his reflection in the mirror. “I keep the weight light so I can maintain my girlish figure. Now what’s up with you sitting around all invisible while I do my workout?”

He took a few slow, predatory steps toward her. At five foot eleven she was tall and strong, as most of her kind were, particularly the females. Yet as he drew closer, her knees wobbled little, and she was reminded of how immense and well-muscled he was. How his suggestive gaze could make her want him even when she was angry. How he could occupy so much space with his dark, moody, yet playful personality.

“I think you know what I’m here for, Tyra.”

“Siddoh, my father is dead. You don’t have to sleep with me to get back at him anymore.” She walked over to a weight bench and sat down, cracking open a bottle of water. They had become lovers long ago. The relationship had been born of Tyra’s need to rebel and Siddoh’s desire to stick it to the king’s daughter as a way to express his feelings about being passed over as second in command.

Somehow, what had started as a one-night stand had become a years-long relationship of convenience. Something like friends with benefits, but contrary to Siddoh’s earlier assertion, they had never exactly been friends. They were dynamite in the sack, but otherwise they couldn’t stand each other. More like antagonistic combatants with benefits?

His face contorted in a mock scowl and he walked in a semicircle to face her, still advancing, still prowling toward her with lustful purpose in his gaze. “You think my little annoyance with your father is the only reason I like fucking you?” Closer. Hoo, baby. “I like fucking you because you blow my mind, female. And it’s been awhile.”

Tyra rolled her eyes. “It’s been awhile because you only want me on your terms, Siddoh, and I’m awfully tired of that.”

Still he continued, closing the space between them. Kneeling at her feet, he slowly pulled off her shoes and started to massage her tired arches. The pleasant kneading made her groan. His strong hands rubbed her ankles and her calves, and had just begun to creep farther when she placed a firm hand over his.

Siddoh was a crutch. One she really needed to stop using… starting now. Tyra heaved another exasperated sigh. “Siddoh. Stop.”

His hand stilled and he remained crouched so that they were eye to eye, but he rocked back on his heels. Full, dark brows drew together in a deep frown. “You’re serious?”

She needed to take a slow breath in and back out before she could find her voice and respond. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” A little tremor of weakness went through her. Why was this so hard to say? It wasn’t as if they were in love, or anythi—

Oh.

Tyra’s eyes widened. “You need to feed, though, don’t you?”

Siddoh’s answering smile was almost cruel. Angry. But underneath the tremors of hunger that flowed not just from the bare touch of his hand on her foot, but also through traces of his blood in her own veins, was a pang of something unexpected.

Hurt?

A subtle shake of his head, a gentle pat on her foot, and he was on his feet. “Thanks, sweetheart, but no thanks.”

Habit had her reaching toward him, but she stopped just short of contact. No way could he go out into the field this way. “Siddoh, I can feel your hunger. We can still feed from each other, you know, even if we’re not lovers.” She smiled. “I think we’re both adult enough for that.”

Siddoh grinned again as he backed toward the door, all trace of sadness gone. “Generous offer, babe, but I think I’ll just call Blood Service.”

She grimaced and rubbed her hand over her forehead. It hardly made sense for him to pay somebody to come from Blood Service when she was already right there, but then again maybe it would be better for them to make a clean—

The gym door slammed shut, and with it, her train of thought came to a screeching halt. Well. That was that, then, wasn’t it?

***

Thad Morgan was completely overcome. He drifted and floated through the man-made glow-in-the-dark galaxy on Isabel’s walls and ceiling, completely relaxed yet humming with energy. With need. His skin buzzed with heightened sensation; his fingertips ached with the desire to touch and explore. Something. Anything. Even Isabel’s furry pillows seemed to beckon, tempting Thad to run his fingers through the silky hair.

Isabel was right. This was beyond amazing. She had sought to ease his anxiety by rubbing the back of his neck, and all of a sudden he’d gone from wondering when the wine was going to kick in to wondering if it would be bad manners to curl into her lap and purr.

Fuck
me, what the hell happened?
Not that he didn’t know the answer, but he couldn’t quite shake the sense of bewilderment.

Isabel was now leaning against the headboard, legs akimbo. Thad sat between her perfect thighs, head bowed, letting her work the muscles in his shoulders with adept fingers. Some last shred of logic shouted in Thad’s head about how he was stupid, stupid, stupid to be sitting in such a vulnerable position with a near stranger, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Wine or no wine, his gut told him that he was safe with her, and he’d always had damn good instincts. And holy mother, did Isabel have good hands. He sighed deeply as his body liquefied under her touch.

“So.” Isabel’s hot breath fanned his ear. “Are we feeling more relaxed?”

A low groan rumbled in Thad’s throat, and he leaned a little more into her hands. If she were to let go, Lord knew where he’d land.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She chuckled, a quiet breathy laugh that made him fly even higher than before.

“Yes.”

Her hands moved to his shoulders, leaving warm tingles in their wake. They worked their way slowly down his spine to the small of his back, where she paused and drew in a slight gasp.

Thad stiffened when Isabel pulled the Kahr P9 out of his waist holster. It wasn’t his usual piece, but holy hell, that was a fuckup for the record books. Thank God they were alone. Lee would never let him hear the end of something like that. Her discomfort with the find was obvious. She handled the gun like it was a sweaty gym sock.

“I’m just going to put this over here.” She eased from behind him and laid the pistol carefully on the desk. “Any others I should know about?”

Thad pulled up his pant leg quietly and withdrew a knife from an ankle holster and handed it to her, handle first. “The rest are in my jacket,” he said, nodding to where he had left it, in easy reach by the bed. He was sure this time. God
damn
it. At least he knew for certain that she wasn’t going to kill him.

“Okay, then.” She smiled and crawled back onto the bed, slinking toward him with a lazy catlike grace. “Now. Where were we?”

Thad sat forward. He could not ignore the sudden compulsion to touch her. Caress her. He couldn’t deny it; the urge for intimacy was there just like Isabel had said it would be. His left hand crept across the bed to touch hers. “You are…
so
fucking sexy,” he breathed.

Isabel leaned toward Thad and smiled at him. An unexpected growl rumbled in the back of his throat. That smile of hers was like a prize to be won, and he was caught unaware by an overwhelming desire to lie down and pledge his undying loyalty to her right then and there. He clamped his jaws so tightly that his molars ached. He wasn’t too far gone to know that saying so could be a real buzz kill.