The Dark-Hunters (40 page)

Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her hand against his tawny neck to check his pulse. A strong, heavy heartbeat thumped against her fingertips. Relieved he was alive, she tried to shake him.

He moaned low in his throat, then slowly blinked his eyes open.

With a curse, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

Before she could move, he rolled over with her, pinning her against the floor beneath his body as he held her wrists above her head.

Those dark, captivating eyes searched hers suspiciously.

Every inch of him was pressed intimately against her and she became instantly aware of the fact that his arms weren’t the only part of his body that was rock-hard and solid.

His hips rested dead center between her legs while his hard, taut stomach leaned against her in a way that brought a flush to her cheeks. Made her feel hot and tingly. Breathless.

For Kim Cardascia, who gives me the freedom to push past the boundaries of my imagination, and Nancy Yost, who keeps me sane while I do it.

To the Ladies of Sanctuary and the RBL Romanticans for all the laughs and support you guys have given me and the Dark-Hunter series. I lub all of you. Thanks for just being you and for loving romance novels as much as I do!

For my friends without whom I would be eternally lost: Rickey, Lo, Janet, Cathy-Max, Deb, Rebecca and Kim Williamon.

To my husband and sons for your patience, your love, and all the incredible happiness the four of you have added to my life. And last but never least, for my family for being an incredible source of support.

AN ANCIENT GREEK LEGEND

Born to extreme wealth, Kyrian of Thrace wielded charm and charisma as powerfully as he wielded his sword. Courageous and bold, he ruled the world around him, and knew nothing save the very passionate side of his nature.

Ardent, wild, and restless, he lived his life recklessly. He knew no danger, no limitations. The world was his oyster and he vowed to feed fully from it.

With the strength of Ares, the body and face of Adonis, and the sensuous gifts of Aphrodite, he was sought by all women who saw him. They wanted him for their own, dreamed of possessing the proud warrior prince whose touch was said to be the closest a woman could ever come to paradise.

But he was not a man whose heart was easily tamed.

He was a man who lived for the moment, lived for his senses, and for the wild fulfillment of all his desires. He loved pleasure, both the giving and the receiving.

The few women who had claimed him for a night of ecstasy lorded it over those who could only dream of touching his exquisite body.

For he
was
passion. Desire. All things sensual and hot.

A born warrior, he was respected and feared by all who knew of him. And at a time when the Roman Empire was invincible, he, alone, beat the Romans back with a hero’s glee, and brought riches and glory to his name and homeland.

For a while, ’twas said he would be ruler of the known world.

Until an act of brutal betrayal made him the Ruler of the Night.

Now he walks the shadowy realm between Life and the Underworld. Neither man nor beast, he is something else entirely.

He is Solitude. He is Darkness.

He is a shadow in the night.

A restless, lonely spirit whose destiny is to save the very mortals who despise and fear him. He will never know rest or peace until he can find the one woman who will not betray him. The one pure heart who can see past his dark side and bring him back into the light.

CHAPTER 1

“I say we should stake him to an anthill and throw little pickles at him.”

Amanda Devereaux laughed at Selena’s suggestion. Leave it to her big sister to make her laugh, no matter the tragedy. Which was exactly what had her sitting at Selena’s tarot card and palm-reading table in Jackson Square on a cold Sunday afternoon, instead of lying in bed with the covers pulled over her head.

Still smiling at the thought of a million ants biting Cliff’s pasty, dough-boy body, Amanda glanced around at the tourists who were thronging the New Orleans landmark even on this drab November day.

The smell of warm chicory coffee and beignets floated from the Cafe Du Monde across the street, while cars zoomed past a few feet away. The clouds and the sky were an eerie gray that matched Amanda’s dour mood.

Most of the Jackson Square peddlers didn’t bother setting up booths during the winter season, but her sister Selena considered her psychic stand as much a New Orleans treasure as the St. Louis Cathedral behind them.

And what a treasure Selena’s stand was …

The cheap card table was disguised by a thick purple cloth their mother had sewn with “special” incantations known only to their family.

Madam Selene, the Moon Mistress, as Selena was known, sat behind it wearing a flowing green suede skirt, purple knit sweater, and a large black and silver overcoat.

Her sister’s strange outfit was quite a contrast to Amanda’s faded jeans, pink cable-knit sweater, and tan ski jacket. But then, Amanda had always preferred to dress in an understated way. Unlike her flamboyant family, she hated to stand out. She much preferred to blend into the background.

“I’m through with men,” Amanda said. “Cliff was the last stop on the bus to nowhere. I’m tired of wasting my time and energy on them. From now on, I’m going to focus all my attention on accounting.”

Selena curled her lips in distaste as she shuffled her tarot cards. “Accounting? Are you sure you’re not a changeling?”

Amanda gave a halfhearted laugh. “Actually, I’m sure I am a changeling. I just wish my real family would come claim me before it’s too late and some of the weirdness rubs off.”

Selena laughed at her while she set her tarot cards out in a game of psychic solitaire. “You know what your problem is?”

“I’m too straitlaced and uptight,” Amanda said, using the words her mother and eight older sisters most often applied to her.

“Well, yeah, that too. But I’m thinking you need to branch out with your tastes. Stop going after these tie-wearing, ho-hum, cry-to-my-mama-’cause-I-have-no-life geeks. You, my baby sister, need a sexcapade with a man who can make your heart race. I’m talking truly reckless and wild.”

“Someone like Bill?” Amanda asked with a smile, thinking of Selena’s husband, who was even more straitlaced than Amanda was.

Selena shook her head. “Oh no, that’s different. See, I’m the reckless and wild one who saves him from being boring. It’s why we’re perfect for each other. We balance. You have no balance. You and your boyfriends tip the scale way into Boredom City.”

“Hey, I like my men boring. They’re reliable, and you don’t have to worry about them having major testosterone moments. I’m a beta girl, all the way.”

Selena snorted as she played with her cards. “Sounds to me like you need a few therapy sessions with Grace.”

Amanda scoffed. “Right, like I need dating advice from a sex therapist who married a Greek sex slave she conjured out of a book. No, thanks.”

In spite of her words, Amanda really did like Grace Alexander. Unlike Selena’s usual crew of insane friends, Grace had always been grounded, and blessedly normal. “How’s she doing, by the way?”

“Fine. Niklos started walking two days ago and now he’s into everything.”

Amanda smiled as she imagined the adorable blond toddler and his twin sister. She loved it when Grace and Julian let her baby-sit for them. “When’s her new baby due?”

“March first.”

“I’ll bet they’re excited,” Amanda said, struck by a tiny stab of jealousy. She’d always wanted a house full of kids, but at twenty-six her prospects appeared bleak. Especially since she couldn’t find any man willing to procreate with a woman whose entire family was certifiable.

“You know,” Selena said with that speculative look that made Amanda cringe. “Julian has a brother who was cursed into a book, too. You could try—”

“Big no, thanks! Remember, I’m the one who hates all this paranormal junk. I want a nice, normal,
human
male, not some demon.”

“Priapus is a Greek god, not a demon.”

“Close enough in my book. Believe me, I had my fill while living at home with the nine of you casting spells and doing all that hocus-pocus. I want normality in my life.”

“Normality is boring.”

“Why don’t you try it before you knock it?”

Selena laughed. “One day, little sister, you’re going to have to accept the other half of your blood.”

Amanda disregarded her words as her thoughts turned back to her ex-fiancé. She’d really thought Cliff was the one for her. A nice, quiet, average-looking data entry clerk, he had been just her cup of tea.

Until he had met her family.

Ugh! For the last six months, she had put off introducing him to them, knowing what would happen. But he had insisted and last night she had finally caved.

Closing her eyes, Amanda winced at the memory of her twin sister, Tabitha, meeting him at the door all decked out in the Goth clothes she used for stalking the undead. The outfit came complete with a crossbow Tabitha just had to show him, and her entire collection of throwing stars.
“This one is special. It can cleave the head off a vampire at three hundred yards.”

If that wasn’t bad enough, her mother and three of her older sisters had been conjuring a protection spell for Tabitha in the kitchen.

But the absolute worst had come when Cliff had mistakenly drunk from Tabitha’s cup, which had been filled with her strength potion of curdled milk, Tabasco sauce, egg yolks, and tea leaves.

He had heaved for an hour.

Afterward, Cliff had driven her home.
“I can’t marry a woman with a family like that,” he’d said as she handed her engagement ring back to him. “Good God, what if we had kids? Can you imagine what would happen if some of that rubbed off?”

Leaning her head back, Amanda could still kill her family for the embarrassment. Was it too much for them to be normal for one dinner?

Why, oh why, couldn’t she have been born to a regular family where no one believed in ghosts, goblins, demons, and witches?

Come to think of it, two of them still believed in Santa Claus!

How could her wonderfully normal father stand all their nonsense? He definitely deserved to be sainted for his patience.

“Hey, guys!”

Amanda opened her eyes to see Tabitha approaching.
Well now, isn’t this just peachy keen?
What would happen next? Would a bus run her over?

This day just gets better and better.

She loved her identical twin, but not at this moment. At this moment, she wished very vile things on Tabitha’s head. Painful nasty things.

As usual, Tabitha was dressed all in black. Black leather pants, turtleneck, and long black leather coat. Her thick, wavy dark auburn hair was pulled into a long ponytail, and her pale blue eyes glowed. Tabitha’s cheeks were flushed and she had a chipper step.

Oh no, she was on a hunt!

Amanda sighed. How on earth could they have come from the same single egg?

Tabitha reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper, then placed it on the table in front of Selena. “I need your expertise. It’s Greek, isn’t it?”

Without answering the question, Selena set her cards aside, and looked the paper over. She frowned. “Where did you get this?”

“It was on a vampire we dusted last night. What does it say?”

“‘The Dark-Hunter is close. Desiderius must prepare.’”

Tabitha put her hands in her pockets as she considered the words. “Any idea what that means?”

Selena shrugged as she handed the paper back to Tabitha. “I’ve never heard of either this Dark-Hunter or Desiderius.”

“Eric said ‘Dark-Hunter’ was a code name for one of us. What do you think?” Tabitha asked.

Amanda had heard enough. Ye gods, how she hated it when they began with the whole vampire-demon-occult garbage. Why couldn’t they grow up and live in the regular world?

“Look,” Amanda said, rising. “I’ll catch you two later.”

Tabitha grabbed her hand as she started to walk off. “Hey, you’re not still sore about Cliff, are you?”

“Of course I am. I know you did all that on purpose.”

Completely unabashed about the fact she’d broken Amanda’s engagement, Tabitha released her hand. “We did it for your own good.”

“Oh yeah, right.” She beamed a false smile. “Thank you so much for watching out for me. Wanna poke my eye out while you’re at it, just for fun?”

“C’mon, Mandy,” Tabitha said with that cutesy face that made their dad forgive her anything. It didn’t do anything to Amanda, except irritate her more. “You might not like what we do, but you do love us. And you can’t marry some uptight jerk who can’t accept what all of us are.”

“Us?” Amanda asked incredulously. “Don’t include me in the madness. I’m the one with the recessive normal genes. You guys are the ones—”

“Tabby!”

Amanda broke off as Tabitha’s Goth boyfriend ran up to them. Eric St. James was only an inch taller than the two of them, but since they were five-foot-ten, that wasn’t unusual. His short black hair had a purple stripe in it and he wore it spiked. He would have been very cute if his nose wasn’t pierced, and if he would actually find and keep a full-time job.

And lay off the vampire-hunting. Sheez!

“Gary got a lead on that vamp pack,” Eric said to Tabitha. “We’re going to try and get the vampires before it gets dark. You ready?”

If Amanda rolled her eyes any harder back into her head, she’d go blind from it. “One day, you guys are going to inadvertently kill a human being acting this way. Remember that time you attacked the Anne Rice–Lestat reenactment group in the cemetery?”

Eric smirked at her. “No one was hurt, and the tourists loved it.”

Tabitha looked back at Selena. “Can you do some research for me, and see if you can find anything on this Desiderius and Dark-Hunter?”