Taffeta & Hotspur (28 page)

Or so she thought.

A hand came from nowhere and clamped
down on her mouth. Another strong, muscled arm went around her and
pinned her arms at her side, and a voice with a distinguished
English accent whispered in her ear, “Go home, Nikki Walker, before
you get yourself killed.”

She tried to spin around and see her
attacker, but even with her super-strength she couldn’t budge. One
hand was still on her mouth, but the other managed to slip under
her open jacket. She struggled hard then, harder than she had ever
done before, but he was too strong and quick for her. He snatched
her weapon and tossed it before he let go of her mouth and turned
her to face him.

She could have screamed then, but she
didn’t. She didn’t want to bring attention to herself, especially
on her first day. And there was something in this one’s aura that
made her think he wasn’t really there to harm her—after all, he had
warned her off instead of immediately killing her.

So instead of screaming like a
banshee, which she desperately wanted to do, she looked him
over.

What she saw made her raise her dark
eyebrows. He was tall, and his black hair fell in layered waves
around a ruggedly good-looking face. His shadow beard added mystery
to his chiseled features. His clothes were expensive and jet-black.
Black leather jacket, black tee beneath it, and black jeans and
silver-tipped black boots. Whoa—just who was this?

Vampire—that’s who! All at once
Nikki’s slayer sense kicked in and told her, Stupid … he’s a
vampire.

As though reading her mind he
chuckled. “Aye, then—that established—all I am here for today is to
indulge in a reasonable discussion.”

“
That established—what
established?” she returned warily. Had he read her mind? Different
vamps had different ‘abilities’.

A short laugh escaped his lips, but
then he grew serious all at once. “Let’s skip the game playing,
Nikki, shall we?”

“
I will if you will, English
…”

“
Again, game playing,” he
chided.

“
I’m not playing a game. How
could I when I don’t know the rules?” She shrugged. “Besides, I
don’t play with strangers. You know my name … I don’t know
yours.”

“
Rules, eh? I shall have to
list some for you. Firstly, and most importantly, stay out of my
way—meaning, don’t look for Deadly Moon. As to my name?” He
inclined his head and brought up his dark eyes to her face. “My
name is Damon Drummond.”

Nikki stiffened and shot him a warning
look. “I have no quarrel with you, Damon Drummond. I don’t know how
you know what you do, but I don’t follow other people’s
rules—especially when the person listing the rules is a … vampire.
Deadly Moon and I … we have a problem, and I mean to solve
it.”

“
You will have two problems
if you keep trying to track her.”

Was he threatening her? It felt like
he was threatening her, and yet, she didn’t really feel threatened.
What then? Was he saying that he would be a problem for her if she
didn’t stop tracking Deadly Moon? Why? And if that was so, well
then, he seemed to think a great deal of himself, and something
told Nikki that he probably had cause to do so.

He was not like any vamps she had ever
encountered. She also wondered if Deadly Moon was his lover. She
eyed him speculatively, but before she could retort he had her
shoulders and brought her in close. A sizzling, spidery electricity
tickled the air between them.

“
I have never seen anything
like you, Nikki Walker. From the top of your fiery head to your
dainty and dangerous feet, you are unique. You look at me with eyes
the deepest shade of blue I have ever encountered in all my four
hundred years, and it would be a shame to see them permanently
closed.”

“
Are you threatening to do
that—permanently close my eyes?” Nikki shook her head, “Then go
ahead, have at me, because nothing is going to stop me. My
brother’s eyes were even more blue than mine, and his were
permanently closed before his time … I don’t mean to suffer the
same fate … at least not until I get my ounce of justice for him.”
She held herself stiffly aloof. “So that brings us to my rules …
the first being, stay out of my way, Damon Drummond, and perhaps I
will let you live.” It was bluster, she knew. This vamp could do
her in with the blink of his eye.

He smirked at her and said, “You will
get yourself killed if you throw words like that at some vamp you
simply cannot take because he has age and experience, and there are
some out there, slayer, that you cannot take.” He let her go and
wagged a finger at her, “So you want to know if I am threatening
you. Fine. Call it what you will, it is still a warning. If you
pursue Deadly Moon, you will find yourself a target because your
presence will become obvious in their world, and these are bad
times in Dublin.”

“
You don’t know me. You are
not concerned for me, but for Deadly Moon, and so everything you
say—jaded. I keep my own council.”

“
Relieve yourself of the
illusion that you are any threat to her. You are like a fly she can
swat out of her way.”

“
Then why are you
here—warning me away?”

“
I have my
reasons.”

“
You have wasted your
time.”

“
I see that …” He suddenly
reached for her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. He bent to
her face and whispered something that made her toes curl, not
because she heard the words but because his low, husky, and
sensuous voice rocked her hormones into place and made her body
tingle.

She knew all at once that he was going
to kiss her. He was actually going to kiss her, and she couldn’t
stop herself from wanting that kiss. What the hell was wrong with
her?

She should stomp on his foot—kick him
in the groan, wallop him one across the face, and break the mood.
She had the strength, the skill … and absolutely no inclination to
do so.

His mouth was on hers, at first gently
and deliciously. She had no will of her own as her lips betrayed
her good sense and parted to invite his tongue to stay awhile. And
that was exactly what she got—a kiss that drowned her in passion
and filled her head with exploding rockets. She couldn’t think, she
couldn’t pull away, and she didn’t want to.

Gone! Zap—he was gone faster than any
vampire she had ever witnessed on the move.

She stood for a long moment, and the
question reared its ugly head and demanded, Were you under a
vampire trance? The answer was a big fat no. It would have been
such an easy answer, and one that could have wiped the shame from
her conscience, but it wouldn’t have been true.

Slayers couldn’t be mesmerized by
vamps—slayers were immune to most vampire magic. The next question
sent the blood to her cheeks. You wanted the vampire Damon Drummond
to kiss you—didn’t you, Nikki Walker?

About Claudy
Conn

Claudy Conn, a native New Yorker, now
lives with her husband, Bob; their wolf, Cherokee; and Cherokee’s
son, Rocky Man, who weighs in presently at 190 pounds.

She loves horses and riding and raised
her ten-year-old gelding Southern Pride from the moment he was
born. She also loves gardening, swimming, skiing, hiking, and
travel—and of course, reading, writing, but no, she says, no
arithmetic!

To get her monthly news, her reviews
for all her new paranormal romances, and excerpts, come on and
visit her at her website: http://www.claudyconn.com

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