Vampire Assassin League Bundle 4 - Eternity (9 page)

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Authors: Jackie Ivie

Tags: #vampire romance, #vampire anthology, #vampire assassin league, #vampire short stories, #vampire novella, #vampire series

BOOK: Vampire Assassin League Bundle 4 - Eternity
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Damn everything.

His voice had warbled slightly and what should be a dead heart pinched her from within her breast. And that was just not possible. So it wasn’t happening. And she refused to accept it. And that was that.

But it still happened.

“I can’t imagine how that must feel... especially now. I mean, I wasn’t truly caring before - one way or the other. I’d learned to avoid consideration of anything tactile in this undead existence. Pleasure. Passion. Kisses... ah! I avoided even thinking of them. I sent any consideration of physical and emotional love deep into the recesses of memory... because it was lost to me. Gone. And gradually even the thought faded; obliterated by time, just as everything else is. And then... I find it difficult to find words. You... uh. Oh Sydney... you arrived! Like it was nothing to upend my entire world. Just like that. I am so lucky! So incredibly lucky. Please understand. I
had
to change you. My only other recourse was to watch you grow old as you age, and then allow you to die... and leave me. I’d be alone again, but it would be immeasurably worse than before. Because now I know how it feels.”

His voice had cracked twice more during that speech and her canine teeth vibrated oddly against her lips each time. It harmonized with the shudders consuming her entire body. And the little thrill that coursed her limbs with his every word, each nuance of inflection in his voice. The tremor. The deep timbre of his voice. The message that seemed to reach out....

Stop that, Sydney
.

She was not willing to feel anything for him. She had to end this insanity. Despite his declarations of forever love and mating, and the fantastic passion stuff, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to reciprocate. How could she? He might be gorgeous. Moving. Immensely loving. Completely amazing in the sex department. But he was a vampire. A blood-sucking fiend. An evil creature of the night. Nothing more than a dead body that moved. A monster.

Exactly like her.

Sydney narrowed her eyes and tightened her jaw, and thought she detected a prick into her lower lip. A quick check with her tongue vetoed that idea. Nothing was elongated. Or sharp. Or out of place. Nothing had changed. Little had changed about the view out the window as well. And ignoring Devereaux wasn’t changing anything. She’d never been so stuck. Captured. Imprisoned. Without one bit of recourse.

She pulled in a big draught of air before realizing the stupidity of it. She didn’t breathe anymore. That was insanity at its finest. Another was the belief that the hollow thump inside her was a beating heart. She frowned and forced her voice to be steady. Firm.

“Can I ask you a question, Dev? Uh... off the record?”

“What record?”

“You’re in time-out, remember? I’m giving you the silent treatment. The least you can do is accede and keep up.”

“Oh. Right. Very well. Ask your question and I’ll answer. Off the record.”

“Well. Look... if I’m going to decide on this vampirism thing, I’m going to need some more info.”

He snorted but stopped instantly. And if he said one thing about how she was already turned, and the decision made, she was never speaking to him again. At least, not for the duration of this flight. And just why was it taking so long to get from New Orleans to Belize anyway? It wasn’t that far.

“I’m trying to be mature here and talk in a logical fashion, which is exactly what my ex-husband constantly accused me of avoiding. Is that alright with you?”

“Forgive me. What do you wish to know?”

“I’m dead. Right?”

“Undead.”

“Devereaux.”

“Again. Forgive me. Yes. You are technically dead. Yes.”

“And that equates to – um. I shouldn’t have a heartbeat. Or, or. Or... the need to swallow. Or feel warmth. Or chill. I shouldn’t feel anything. Right?”

“Normally. But you skipped that phase, Love.”

Love?

She was in trouble now. The word slipped off his tongue and what couldn’t be her heart reacted. Something within her chest felt like it swelled and warmed, and that made her eyes smart with what couldn’t possibly be tears, while her throat sealed off with a fist-sized obstruction. And none of this should be things she had to deal with if she were dead.

“How?” she asked.

The word was choked. Barely intelligible. Damn everything. He probably knew why, too. That fact carried through the sinfully warm tone of his voice. And the feel of breath against her throat as if he’d gotten close enough to have that effect. As if he actually breathed.

“Normally, vampirism is a living death, exactly as you suspect; a continual span of nothingness; a quest for sustenance followed by a span while we wait for the next need for blood. I’m with the Vampire Assassin League for a reason. I like the difficulties of an intricate assignment because they’re interesting. I accrue worldly goods for the same reason. It provides something to occupy the time. In the undead world, you learn that nothing really has much value. Iron rusts. Springs sag. Bricks can even crumble. Every night is the same. The only thing that can possibly change that is if we find our mates. Then all kinds of wonderful things happen. It’s... akin to rebirth. Reawakening. Sensation returns, feelings grow, passion reignites, and parts... uh. Well. Parts reanimate. Everything lost to us comes back.
Everything
. That’s how I knew what you were to me. I felt you.”

“How? Your dick grew hard?”

He growled with a massive throb of tone that slammed into the cabin walls, stretching seams while the window she watched actually cracked, right down the center. And her dead heart pulsed with what actually felt like fear. And then her teeth really did slice her inner lip. Sydney lifted a hand to touch them. She wasn’t mistaken. Her fangs really were sprouting.

She twisted to face him, and that’s when she knew exactly what it felt like to have her heart sink. It was visceral. And painful. And it just sent beat after hurtful beat from the pit of her stomach, as if any of that was logical or physically possible, or even sane.

“You
dare
belittle me?”

Oh... major wow. Her heart didn’t just enlarge or choke her off. It was painfully hitting at her ribs. Devereaux’s eyes were narrowed, yet she didn’t have any trouble interpreting the absolute rage radiating from them. His mouth was at full snarl, his fangs on full display. She’d never seen anything as frightening. Nor as exciting. Riveting. Electrifying.

“Uh...Dev?”

That breathless, smoldering voice couldn’t be hers, could it? Because she sure hadn’t meant to sound like a sex siren at full alert. Where was the justice in that? Devereaux pulled his head back, closed his mouth, and then he regarded her with a frown between his brows. That look was worse than stimulating. Every prolonged bit of viewing him sent trills of shivers coursing her skin.

“Um...my fangs. Look. They...grew.”

She used the same throaty voice, the one that sent sensual vibes without a hint of effort. She watched him lick his lips before he dipped his chin to regard her; his obsidian dark eyes still narrowed. Unblinking. Everything on her body ratcheted up a notch in anticipation. Or something.

“Yes,” he answered finally.

“I get it. It’s emotion that triggers it. Right?”

“Yes,” he replied again.

“And what makes them retract?”

Before he could answer, the intercom came on, disrupting and altering what was turning into a vortex of want. Need. Sexual urgency. Fervency. Craving. Sydney glared at the speaker at the same time she silently thanked it.

“Good morn back there! Looks like we’re coming up on Belize City, folks. Should be touching down in about ten minutes. And not that anyone ever does, but if you’d like to take a seat and fasten a seatbelt, well. Now is your chance.”

“Vaughn?” Devereaux enquired.

“Yep. In the flesh.”

“Why aren’t you at Casa Castillion, renting the estate to that film crew?”

“Anyone can do that. We do have Power of Attorney paperwork. You should know. You signed it. And I’m a pilot. The best. Akron changed the plan. So. You ready to land or what?”

“How long until dawn?”

“Right. Vampires. Give me a sec. Let’s see... sunrise? Belize City? Looks like you got... two hours, eleven minutes.”

Devereaux hadn’t moved his gaze from hers. He lifted his eyebrows as if awaiting something.

“What?” Sydney asked.

“You ready to accept me?”


Now
I get a proposal?”

“Sydney Ross LLC. It’s your decision. You want to land? Or... you want to circle for a bit while you work on those fangs of yours?”

“You’re actually giving me a choice?”

“And a condition.”

“Oh really. What is it?”

“You accept me. Us. I won’t take it any other way.”

“It?”

Sydney licked her lips. He pulsed in place. She watched it. Gloried in it. Barely kept from launching into his lap over it.


Women!
Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them. Whoever said that was a genius.”

“How original,” she replied in the same low voice.

“I speak and it still comes out wrong. Sydney. Please. You are my mate. My one. My only. I cannot change that and I don’t want to. You want an apology? I can’t speak one. It would be false. I may not have been an honorable man, but something about you changes me. Please understand. I cannot believe how much I love you. Already. And I want you. Need you. Crave you.
Merde!
Everything on me is in revolt because I won’t act on that desire. I don’t know what else to say. The two hours before you’ll need rest is barely enough time to begin.”

“You still listening, Vaughn?” Sydney turned her head to ask it.

“Oh. I—uh...”

“Well... turn off the switch and start circ—”

Devereaux’s kiss interrupted her. He hadn’t been exaggerating his need. Or his readiness. He was just lucky he didn’t say a word about how well it matched hers.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Devereaux had read the file while his beloved rested, her body in a stasis resembling death, although the bloom on her cheeks and her lips belied it. She was stunning. Wonderful. Extremely agile... and he truly appreciated it. Vaughn probably had a laugh at their expense when he saw the wreck they’d made of the aircraft cabin. Dev didn’t care. He had other options. He’d already ordered a replacement jet for this evening. They could destroy that cabin, too.

What a pleasant thought.

The file had been large. Complete. It took up a few bytes on his inbox before he’d deleted it. It hadn’t been original but it was still interesting. Devereaux smirked through most of the words. Humans and greed and family ties. He’d lived some of those plot points and read more than his share over the years.

Looks like he had a family blackheart to assassinate.

It would be a pleasure.

The assignment was Anton Carlotti Hughes. Height: a shade under six foot. Weight: too much. According to the photo attachments, he looked to be carrying some table paunch around. He was a fairly young twenty-seven. Arrogant. Self-confident. Aggressive. Spoiled. Flamboyant dresser. Italian descended... through his mother’s side. He had a receding hairline he blamed on his matriarchal line. It was especially noticeable, since he wore his hair long and pulled back in a shoulder-length queue. The ladies apparently found him handsome enough, or the photos were inaccurate.

That might be due to his income more than his looks, however. Anton Hughes held an extremely well-paying job. Being nephew to the Carlotti Brothers Menswear founder and CEO was a lucrative position. Apparently his uncle had put Anton in the finance department, reporting directly to the Chief Financial Officer.

Tsk. Tsk
.

The Senior Carlotti hadn’t even checked on his nephew’s job performance until two of his heirs and sons were assassinated. Fairly recently, too. The money trail pointed right to the embezzling nephew, Anton Hughes. That information sent Carlotti Senior to VAL. And that took Devereaux and Sydney to this area of jungle watching one small wood-framed bungalow as the night got blacker, the insects more voracious sounding, and then a slight mist decided to add to the setting. His denims darkened with moisture as they got heavy with damp and then clung. The t-shirt was the next casualty.

“We don’t need insect repellent, do we?” Sydney whispered at his ear.

He shook his head.

“Nice. Perfect vision. Super strength. Flight.
And
immunity to insects and spiders. Like I said. Nice. Hmm.”

His groin kicked in on that little purr of hers. He would’ve warned her not to do it again, except it was fairly pleasant. And he’d been on a drought for centuries. Dev turned his attention back to his mark. Focused. And found him again.

Looks like Anton knew he’d been found out and targeted. There were clues. Why else would he hole up in this technologically dead spot? Continually light cigarette after cigarette behind the screened-in porch? Post six gentlemen with AK-47s in the grounds of his rented house? They weren’t the only bodyguards. Anton had two more burly types accompanying his every move from behind the screened porch. All packing the same hardware. Anton even carried a short sword at his belt.

Not one of them had a crossbow. Or a flame suppression tank with CO2 canisters and Holy Water. Nowhere had they strung up lines of garlic buds. Although garlic was ineffective, they wouldn’t know that. Nobody even looked to sport a crucifix. Or, if they did, it was hidden beneath their clothing, where it might hurt, but wouldn’t stop an approach. Interesting. Anton had contacted and used VAL to assassinate his own cousins... and he hadn’t even done his homework?

He didn’t know he was dealing with real vampires. Piece of cake.

“What are we waiting for?”

Sydney spoke again, using that low whisper of hers that carried sensual undertones that reached out and grabbed—

“Dev?”

“Uh... sorry. What did you ask?”

“Why are we sitting out here getting wetter by the moment?”

“We’re assessing potential collateral damage.”

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