She shoved at him again. "What if I don't give a damn about your new leaf?"
"I-"
Her words were swallowed as he swooped, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was sensual and possessive at the same time. She inhaled the scent that was uniquely Alexandre, spicy yet subtle, as he lavished attention on her mouth. A whimper escaped her throat as, without warning, the kiss turned soft and he coaxed her to open to him.
This was the Alexandre she'd dreamed of...
Her lips parted and she leaned into him. Her bracelets sang as she looped her hands around the back of his neck, reaching up on her toes, aligning her body with his. Reveling in the feel of him, she opened her mouth wider, her tongue tangling with his as she leaned into his warmth and strength. A feeling of heat spread through her body as the hard length of his erection pressed against her stomach.
He broke the kiss, raising his head ever so slightly. Dimly she noted his pupils were enlarged, his breathing harsh. He loosened his grip on her shoulders, sliding his hands to her elbows then up again. Shivers ran over her skin. Who would've thought arms could be an erogenous zone?
"Is that a crucifix in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" she whispered.
To her surprise, he chuckled. "You're too much." His expression turned serious as he ran his finger down the curve of her cheek. "You're so beautiful," he breathed.
Her breath caught as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. She twined her legs around his as he moved in for another kiss. She marveled at how perfectly they fit; the hard ridge of his desire pressed insistently against the apex of her thighs. The taste of him rolled across her tongue as she opened for him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as they ate at each other's mouths. Each touch more exquisite than the one before it.
With nimble fingers she tugged at the buttons on his shirt, eager to stroke exposed skin. He groaned when she found his nipple. She brushed her nails over his hardened nub and he lunged against her mouth as his groans turned into the frantic sounds of hunger.
His grip tightened then he turned, bracing her back against the door. She twisted her legs around his waist as he pressed into her. A few scant layers of clothing separated them, his erection hot between her thighs. Tension built as she ground against him, desperate to relieve the ache he was building.
Strong fingers stroked the inside of her thigh before pushing her skirt out of the way. She broke the kiss as she felt the sinuous slide of his fingers against her dampened silk thong.
"Christ, woman, what are you wearing?" he growled.
Sunni laughed softly. "As little as possible."
"Amen."
She laughed again before pulling his head down for another kiss. Strong fingers breached the cloth and slipped into her dampened core, eliciting a strangled gasp as his thumb brushed her sheltered bundle of nerves. She flexed her thighs, performing a slow up and down motion against him. Each sensual stroke increased the tension in her legs, urgency riding low in her belly.
She broke the kiss and closed her eyes, concentrating on the maelstrom he created with his masterful strokes. Within seconds she peaked, golden lights sparking against her eyelids as she squelched her cries with the back of her hand.
Trembling, she let her head drop to his shoulder, her breath raging in her lungs. Dimly, on the edge of her consciousness, she heard an ominous creaking. She raised her head. "Did you hear that?"
Alexandre sucked her earlobe, causing her eyes to roll back in her head. "Hear what?" He thrust against her.
"T-t-that crack," she panted.
He released her lobe to nip at her throat. "No." He pressed again, eliciting a sigh from her. No doubt about it, she thought as she arched her back for better friction, he had The Moves. She tightened her grip on his waist as he increased his short, rhythmic movements. Desire spiraled higher, the peak beckoned.
Another crack rent the air, this one much louder than the last, and Sunni's world tilted. One moment, she was secure in his arms, her back against the door, the next they were falling.
With a thud, she landed hard on her back, Alexandre on top of her. She blinked as her eyes focused on the people crowding around them, some concerned, some snickering over their indelicate position.
Alexandre was the first to recover, scrambling to his feet, careful not to expose her any more than necessary. He took her hand and pulled her upright then released her instantly. She wobbled for a second, taking in the destruction they'd caused.
The men's room door now lay in the hallway, the wood fractured by their combined weights pressing against it. The old bolts, unable to withstand the abuse, had given way.
She squelched the urge to giggle. "Do you think Sinjin will be mad?" She raised her gaze to meet Alexandre's.
Uh oh...
Gone was the passionate lover of moments before and, in his place, was the stoic Council head. With a cool gaze, he looked at her from head to toe. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, her heart sinking.
"I'll make reparations with Sinjin for the door so don't worry about it." He straightened the mangled collar of his shirt. "If you're uninjured, then I will bid you good evening."
With that, he turned and left, shouldering aside the crowd as if they weren't there. She glanced at the broken doorframe, now missing its door, and bit her lip.
Drat...
* * *
Chapter 6
She is dangerous.
Alexandre tossed his Mont Blanc pen on the desk in frustration. Leaning back, he rubbed a hand over his weary eyes. Staying away from Sunni would be for the best. His misplaced fascination with her would only lead to ruin. He scowled at the thought of the broken door and the very public end to their lovemaking at the Chat Noir.
Never in his life had he been so embarrassed.
How many times had he observed the destructive power of women? Yet how many times had he risked everything and indulged in the sins of the flesh? He had nothing against sex, now at least, but the loss of control concerned him. He wasn't in a position to allow himself to be distracted by a woman. He couldn't afford to revisit a past mistake.
He loved New Orleans, but maybe the best thing would be to leave after he'd dealt with Cass. Maybe a change of scenery would do him some good. A few years in Europe was what he needed.
I need her.
His let his head drop against the chair and he groaned in frustration. He wanted Sunni more than he'd ever wanted any woman in his life. What was it about her? She was everything he avoided. She wasn't a great conversationalist-
You've never talked to her for any period of time.
She was tiny-
And built like a dream.
She was mouthy-
Oh, what a mouth.
A rush of lust raced through his body, so powerful that he wanted to curl up and embrace it. He snorted in disgust. He was behaving like an untutored schoolboy and it had to stop. Now.
He stood so fast that, for a split second, he was dizzy. Maybe a swim was what he needed to clear his head? He headed toward the door but the phone rang. He grabbed the offending instrument and, before he could bark a greeting, the caller spoke.
"We have problems."
"Sinjin?"
"Yes. I need ye to come down to the Square. There's something ye'll need to deal with."
Alexandre's gut clenched. The urgency in Sinjin's voice was unmistakable. "I'll be right there."
Sunni watched the man as he stalked his next victim. Through narrowed eyes, she spied him slipping Rohypnol into his date's drink. Fast-acting, the woman would be unconscious within minutes of ingesting it. At that point, she'd be completely at this creep's mercy. This one, he was smooth, in control. He'd done this before.
Very few things in life raised her fury like rapists and pedophiles. Since becoming a vampire, Sunni had refused to feed on the innocents of the world. She scanned the smoke-filled bar from her secluded corner table, automatically skipping what she deemed were normal people out fo
r a good time. Her attention centered on those she had learned to stalk and feed from with ease, with relish. The rapists. The pedophiles. The creeps of the world.
Rarely did she kill them. Maybe it was the Pollyanna idealism within her, but she truly believed most people could be redeemed. No one was without at least one saving grace and past errors of judgment could be dealt with and healed. The future was limitless.
She rose from her shadowed seat, leaving her unwanted drink untouched. She walked across the bar, acutely conscious of the gazes that followed her. Levering into the empty seat beside her victim, her knuckles deliberately brushed his glass, toppling it and spreading it's contaminated contents across the bar.
"Hey!" The man shot her a disgusted look.
Sunni turned on the charm and gave her next meal an award-winning smile. "Hi."
His expression turned from annoyance to interest. "Hi yourself." As if he were undressing her, his gaze scraped her body. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"
She fought to keep from rolling her eyes. Did he really think he was original with that line? She drew a fingertip across her exposed collarbone. "Looking for some fun."
He smiled and it wasn't pleasant. "Oh really." He reached out and ran his finger down her arm, narrowly missing her breast. He frowned. "Are you cold?"
Her skin was cool due to her not feeding for more than twenty-four hours. Sunni kept her expression innocent and she nodded. "You don't think it's cold in here?"
He shrugged, obviously not interested in the temperature of the room. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and smelling of Jack Daniels. "Actually, I'm getting hot."
"Oh really? I'll bet you're really hot blooded."
"Hot as you'll ever see, baby."
She smiled and injected a sensual note into her voice. "I've been watching you."
He chuckled. "Oh yeah? Like what you see?'
Creep.
"Oh yes." She slid off the barstool, allowing her skirt to ride up, exposing a good portion of her thighs. "You're exactly what I've been looking for this evening."
"And that would be?"
She could smell his arousal. Desire radiated in waves off his skin like cheap aftershave, thick and cloying. She fought the urge to step away from the miasma. "A real man."
She reached, her hands brushing the front of his shirt. Following the line of buttons to the open neck, she let her fingertips stroke the warm skin where she'd soon feed. He shivered beneath her feather-light touch.
"I'm your man." His voice was shaky, strained.
She dropped her gaze to his engorged lap. Oh yeah, he was ready all right. "Let's go then."
Sunni turned to lead him out the door. She didn't look back to see if he followed. She knew he would as she heard him breathing. She could feel the heat of his skin as she walked out the side door and into the New Orleans night. This was a seedier section of the city, the dangerous sector where tourists were warned to stay away except in the light of day. Even then they could be taking their lives into their own hands and frequently did.
The Drunken Sailor was a familiar haunt and she knew exactly where to take him. Turning left, she walked down the center of the alley, her victim close behind. Few people frequented this part of town unless it was for nefarious means and those who did faded into the background as they neared. Sunni noted the presence of a few other preternaturals in the area as she led the man to one of her favorite spots.
She noted with some relief that the other vampires were polite and moved away from her. Feeding was intensely private to some, herself included, and she preferred no witnesses.
"Where are we going, babe? Your place?"
Shadowed by the darkness, she gave in to her desire to roll her eyes. Did he really think that babe was a preferred method of addressing a woman? Did this work for him?
"Oh no, we aren't going to my place."
She placed her hand on his chest and shoved him into a darkened doorway tucked into the intersection of two alleys. From her vantage point, she could see down both streets. No one could sneak up on her from this spot.
Her victim chuckled. "What's the matter, babe, can't wait to get your hands on me?" He reached for her, wrapping his hands around her arms, pulling her against him.
Sunni brushed aside his collar, avoiding his mouth as he tried to kiss her. Her lips touched his skin, zeroing in on the spot where his pulse beat.
He jerked as her teeth broke his skin and a hot rush of blood filled her mouth. His throat vibrated beneath her mouth as his hands convulsed on her arms before falling away to hang limp at his sides.
Her eyes closed as she fed, remembering from her days as a human what it was like to be fed upon. It was warm and sensual, not painful at all. At this point, endorphins had flooded his system before changing to ribbons of ecstasy running under his skin, growing stronger as she fed, like the sensation of impending orgasm. The tightening of heightened nerves, the concentration on one small-sensitized point on the body.
But she didn't want him to enjoy it. She wanted him to be afraid. She wanted to teach him the price of preying upon innocent, trusting women. She wanted him to be victimized just like the woman he'd selected from the bar, the one she'd saved.
Summoning her vampire ability, she invaded his mind with images guaranteed to haunt him the rest of his life. Images of his body being violated as he'd violated his victims. His body, broken and bleeding, his soul ravaged. Soft whimpers of fear sounded as she drained him of the ability to fight back.
He was debilitated when she finished. His body sagged against the door. She released him and he slid into a heap on the ground. His gaze was locked with hers, horror etched in their murky depths. He was forever changed.
Sunni dropped into a crouch, her face near his, ensuring that he saw her clearly before his eyes closed and he was overtaken by the need to sleep. Feeding from a human always required a nap for them afterward, while the same left her invigorated.
"Now you know what it is to be helpless, to be victimized by a creep such as yourself," she hissed. His eyes drooped and she shook him, forcing his eyes open. "Hear me well, mortal. Never again will you be able to see a woman as a potential victim and not relive this moment. This is the point in time in which you realize the error of your ways. If you try to take another victim, I will come for you and, next time, I guarantee you won't survive it. I'll personally escort you to hell."
A watery gurgle sounded as his eyes slid shut, unconscious now.
Sunni pushed him into the far corner of the doorway before she rose. He'd served his purpose and she'd rid New Orleans of yet another creep. From here on out, this man would be a cowering, law-abiding citizen. He'd still have the desire to rape. In fact, he'd probably dream about it for the rest of his life. But she'd seen to it that he'd never again carry out his evil plans.
She smiled as she stepped into the alley. Putting all thoughts of her victim behind her, she wondered where Alexandre was and how she could torment him next.
"This one isn't as bad as the last one." Sinjin's tone was subdued.
Alexandre crouched by the dead vampire, not quite believing what he saw. In all of his years, he'd seen several vampires who'd died by sunlight, but never in the middle of the night. It simply wasn't scientifically possible.
The unfortunate soul lay in the middle of the floor in an old warehouse, his body burned to a crisp. Near his shriveled hand lay a perfect white rose, the petals unharmed and still damp with dew. The scent of scorched flesh hung thick in the air, mingling with the sound of unrestrained weeping from the female vampire who'd found him.
"Who was he?" Alexandre asked.
"Philippe DesJardins, a vampire of twenty-some years." Sinjin pointed to the woman. "She said that they were due to meet and go for their evening hunt. When he didn't appear, she came looking and found this."
"Did she say anything else?"
"Only that he'd been acting strangely the past two or three days."
A
lexandre spared a glance at the traumatized female who stood near the door, her gaze fixed on the near-cremated remains of her boyfriend. He turned away, unable to bear her pain. "Strangely how?"
"Jittery, as if he couldna stand still. He kept saying that something big was coming and he was to be an integral part of it."
"Does she have any clues, any idea of what he was talking about?"
"Nay."
"Enemies?"
Sinjin shook his head. "She's as perplexed as we are. Philippe had come into the bar on several occasions and, according to what I've heard, he was an average vampire. He'd never set out to make a name for himself as some when they're first turned. He didn't feel as if he had anything to prove and, up until a week ago, he lived a pretty simple existence."
"What changed?"
"She said he suddenly came home with a handful of money and a story of something big. As the week progressed, he became more jittery and complained of feeling tired, like his chest was on fire. She said he was acting as if he'd gotten some tainted blood, but he never recovered as most would. In fact, he seemed to grow worse with each day."
Interesting.
"She thought he wasn't feeding properly and tried to talk to him about it. Philippe blew off her concerns."
Alexandre studied the corpse. "Too bad for him." He raised his head, his gaze meeting Sinjin's. "Send her home and have someone stay with her for a while. Caution her to speak to no one of this."
Sinjin nodded and turned away to deal with the female.
Head down, Alexandre circled the shriveled corpse, studying it from every angle. Philippe DesJardins lay flat on his back, his left leg hooked behind the knee of his right. His hands were curled into fists, one arm by his side, the other bent at the elbow. The rose was mere inches from his fist and shoulder.
His face was charred beyond recognition; the mouth wide open as if he'd screamed his way into death. At some point, his torso had been engulfed in flames. Everything from the waist down was untouched by fire, barely singed.
Two things leapt out at Alexandre. Philippe was shriveled as if the liquids in his body had evaporated, leaving his corpse twisted and brittle like driftwood. But the most peculiar element was the massive whole in his chest where his heart should have been. Alexandre bent to study the aberration. He could easily have fit his fist and then some into the unnatural cavity. Not quite round, but not oblong either. The hole was clean as if it had been surgically cauterized. The edges of the wound were neatly singed, tidy. Through the hole, he glimpsed the dirty cement floor, only marginally scorched.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 5 Page 6