Love's First Bite: Bad Boys and Alpha Vampires Boxed Set (6 book bundle)

by Eden, Cynthia

  “I don’t think anything worth fighting for should be easy, do you?”

  He shook his head. “You’re right. And what’s a little pain before death, eh?” He punched a fist into his palm. The urge to smash Himself’s face into the next realm was too strong. “I have a feeling that boyfriend of yours is going to twist me into all sorts of interesting shapes before I give up the ghost.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. You are, Johnny. And I don’t want to live if you die.”

  “Don’t say that. Once you have your freedom, that’s all that matters. There’s lots of guys in this world, vampires who would love to treat you right.”

  “There’s only the one I want to kiss.” Moonlight twinkled in her gray eyes. Beguiled didn’t sound so awful since he was the one experiencing it right now. “But here I go again, asking too much of you. You’ve got to look for your sister.”

  “Mom and dad are out searching the city. I have a feeling if Himself does have her, he will bring her to me, so I should stay put.”

  “If you think that’s best?”

  “I do. Besides, there’s something I need to do before the big showdown.”

  “What is it, lover?”

  He wished they could stand like this forever, beneath the moonlight, knowing the warmth of each other’s bodies, the compassion in their shared gazes and the genuine love that seemed to swell in his veins.

  He couldn’t tell her what he had to do. That would scare her, and—who wanted advance warning when they were to have their heart ripped out?

  “One last bite,” he whispered, kissing her throat. “Before I die.”

  “You’re so dramatic. Mm, yes. Drink of me deeply. Let me feel your fangs pierce me.” She gasped as his fangs sunk into her neck.

  He wanted to remember her darkly sweet taste as he died for her. And yet, just thinking it now—he was ready to die for her—didn’t make sense. He should live for her. Because he didn’t want it all to end tonight. And if she loved him, then wouldn’t she ultimately be more hurt if he died?

  “I have to live,” he said suddenly. Her blood dripped from his mouth onto her shoulder. “I need to live.”

  “Yes, for me, Johnny.”

  Looking down into Kam’s eyes, he promised, “I will not die this night.”

  A knightly promise he made to the damsel. Guess Dante had been right about that gauntlet. He fell to his knees and kissed her hand.

  A rush of wind slammed Johnny against the cathedral wall. His throat closed up. The feeling was sickeningly familiar, only this time it was with the added twist in his gut as his intestines knotted.

  Below, on the parvis, Himself charged out from a mist of sulfurous blackness. He thrust out a hand and flicked it toward Kambriel. She grasped her chest. With another flick of Himself’s fingers, she spilled over the balustrade, plunging to the stone courtyard below.

  Johnny shouted. The sound of his anger released him from the wall. He ran for the balustrade and, planting his hands on the stone, catapulted over the edge. As he fell through the air, he saw Kam stood beside the mighty dark Prince. The demon’s eyes glowed maniacally. Those horns—should he land too close—would eviscerate him.

  Johnny landed on his feet, ten paces from the demonic dark lord. No sign of Summer’s blonde ringlets. If she was anywhere near, surely she’d be bawling. “What did you do with my sister?”

  Himself chuckled, low in his throat. “She’s near.”

  “Release her! Release them both!”

  “I can’t leave,” Kam said. “He won’t allow it.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Johnny said.

  He rushed toward the devil Himself, prepared to move through the dark beast to rip out his black heart and condemn him to Beneath where he belonged.

  “This ends now!” Johnny yelled.

  Himself lowered his head, the bull preparing to charge. The glinting points of his horns leveled with Johnny’s heart. He leaped, and collided with the beast, his body missing the horns and slapping the broad black shoulder, and toppling Himself backward. But they did not fall to the ground. Instead, Johnny’s body was repulsed backward. He landed on the ground beside Kam, who lay there sprawled, her eyes closed.

  “Kam?” He hadn’t time to joggle her awake. The devil was upon him.

  Lifted into the air by his bicep, Johnny kicked and landed a boot toe in the devil’s kidney.

  Himself grunted, dropped Johnny, and slapped his hands together. A brilliant red spark snapped out from between his palms. Johnny dodged as the wicked sure-death singed his pant leg.

  “She is mine,” Himself growled.

  “She will never love you! Never will she give you the one thing you ask of her.”

  “I am patient. I have eternity.”

  “You’re killing her by making her store innocent mortal souls!”

  “Love lives beyond death.”

  Disgusted to imagine his beautiful Kam a servant to the devil Himself even after her death, Johnny fortified his efforts. He swung up a high punch and landed his knuckles against the demon’s hard, ungiving jaw. Himself swung an arm, catching Johnny atop the head with a sharp elbow. His skin opened and blood spilled down his forehead and between his eyes.

  “A scratch!” he mocked his attacker. He bent and charged the beast. How to defeat the undefeatable?

  Of a sudden the earth loosened under his feet. Johnny staggered back from the blow of his shoulder connecting to Himself’s adamant form. Stones and earth spilled away from his feet. He stepped to the side, landing on a solid surface and watched as the stone courtyard around him opened to fall away. Not as if an earthquake opening up a seam in the ground, but rather, the ground fell downward into a vast abyss.

  “Beneath,” he whispered.

  All around him the vast chasm gaped. He stood upon a narrow line of earth, a dash cutting through the abyss. The ancient Roman ruins beneath the fore of the cathedral had been exposed, sliced through and crumbling.

  Nearby, Kambriel lay on an island of ground, still unconscious. He could reach her with a leap—

  Himself grabbed Johnny by the back of the throat and dashed his body into the narrow line of earth.

  *

  He was fighting an impossible fight for her. And for his little sister.

  No matter how many times Himself repelled Johnny, or stabbed him with a talon or horn, or broke yet another of his bones, Johnny pulled himself upright and took it all. He even invited more torture with a defiant rock n’ roll sneer. He would not stand down.

  More earth fell away, rumbling the ground upon which Kam lay until she had to grip at a sharp edge to keep from rolling off the narrow finger of land that supported her. Above, the sky roiled black and gray, angrily swirling clouds into a fusty mixture. If any mortal witnessed this, surely they would think it the end of days.

  Again, Himself thrust a horn through Johnny’s body, spearing his shoulder and ripping out muscle and flesh. The vampire yowled, staggered, yet managed to flash his wickedly sexy grin and gestured with his fingers to dish up more abuse.

  Himself served Johnny more torture, and more, and more, and—Kam couldn’t watch her lover’s annihilation. She pressed her face into her hands and screamed for it to end.

  *

  The vampiress’s voice cut through the battle, a siren’s sword drawing the winning line. Himself wobbled and fell off the edge of a narrow finger of earth. Without a sound, the dark prince spiraled downward into the darkness.

  Johnny inhaled and fell to his knees, his fingers clutching the edge of his dash of earth. “He’s not dead. He’ll be back.”

  Eyeing Kam’s island not far off, he swiped the blood from his eyes and judged the distance. He had to attempt it.

  Running along the narrow dash, he leapt, soaring through the air, and his feet did not land on Kam’s island. Instead, his body slid down the serrated side of it. He shouted and his fingers grasped for hold. Slipping. His bodyweight tugged him toward Beneath.

  To battle H
imself endlessly after.

  Broken bones snapping at odd angles, Johnny’s fingers dug into earth. He scrambled for hold with his boot toes and managed to wedge them into the hard, dry earth. Pulling himself up, he landed next to Kam. Panting, and rolling to his back, he stared up at the odd Paris sky. White fluffy clouds and birds flew overhead, as if nothing whatsoever was strange below. As if the earth had not fallen away.

  He had to get Kam out of here and to safety. And then he’d find Summer. Himself had said she was near.

  Shaking Kam gently and whispering her name, he could not rouse her. Pushing the hair away from her face, he kissed her cheek. “We’re almost there,” he said. “I promise you.”

  Lifting her and putting her over his shoulder, he then took a leap and landed on another narrow dash of land, not stopping but moving into a run. The earth gave way in the wake of his footsteps, and he increased his speed, racing death.

  And then he landed on cobblestones, and the sky darkened, and a streetlight beamed across the limestone building walls. He was back in Paris. Real time.

  Drawing Kam down to cradle in his arms, he looked about. He’d crossed the bridge to the right bank. The city hall square loomed before him, a few tourists yet wandered around the carousel taking photographs. This was the location where he was to perform the most heinous act in his life.

  The witches must be near.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Can you save her?” Johnny asked.

  Libby St. Charles, a curvaceous redheaded witch, lovingly smoothed the hair from Kambriel’s face. “She’s so pretty.”

  “I’ve cast a glamour about us,” Verity Von Velde, a fellow witch with dark violet hair said. “We’re safe here, unseen by mortals.”

  Johnny nodded, finding little reassurance when faced with what must come next. His body had been mangled, bones broken, and his skin was torn and bleeding, but he was close to healing one-hundred percent.

  “We need her heart,” Zoë with gentle assertiveness. “You know what you’ve been told, Johnny.” She nodded to Verity, who handed him a black-bladed athame. “Do it quickly.”

  He took the blade, but couldn’t commit to a firm grip. He’d been told to cut out Kam’s heart. It was the only way the witches could work the spell. They would put it back after they’d cleansed it of Himself’s guile.

  But who could survive having their heart ripped from their chest?

  He let the blade fall out of his fingers to clatter on the cobblestones. Stepping over to Kam, he knelt beside her. Johnny shook his head. “I can’t.”

  He could not murder the woman he loved. If anyone should have sacrificed their life this night, it should have been him.

  Where was Summer?

  “Johnny,” Zoë hissed.

  He nodded.

  Focus. This had to be done. Wherever his sister was right now, he’d find her soon enough.

  Perhaps he could keep Kam as she was? Manage to love her even as she was under Himself’s control? He could do that.

  He shook his head. She could not live like that. She wanted freedom.

  High heels clicking on the cobblestones, Verity stepped up behind him. She touched his shoulder. “So long as the heart remains intact she will survive. Only a strong man can do this. If you love her, give her freedom.”

  His heart clenched and he thought surely this was what it felt like to have a broken heart. And yet, Kam’s heart was broken, and only he could provide the means to repair it.

  Bowed over Kam’s body, he pressed his lips to hers. “I love you.” She was warm and smelled like cherries and chocolate. And sulfur. Brushing aside the hair from her shoulder revealed the butterfly tattoos. Vile gifts from Beneath.

  Determined, he clenched his fists and glanced to the black blade lying on the cobblestones. If he used a weapon he risked cutting into her heart. He opened a fist and stiffened his fingers.

  “Yes,” one of the witches behind him whispered.

  The threesome knew all too well how to remove a vampire heart without killing the vamp. Wicked witches.

  Decided, he must do this.

  Shouting out a cry, a blend of horror, regret, and determination, Johnny thrust his fingers deep into his lover’s chest until they slid along the thick, slippery heart. Curling his fingers, he cupped Kam’s heart. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth and yanked. The life-giving muscle pulled loose.

  He looked over the black mass of blood and muscle. It wasn’t red, as it should be. Tainted by Himself’s wicked control. The arteries hung in snaking tubes and twined about Johnny’s hand. He shook at it but they were tenacious.

  “Don’t let it get hold of you,” one of the witches warned. “It’ll infuse your veins with Himself’s darkness.”

  “Set it on the platter,” Libby directed.

  Johnny staggered over to the witches, and when he wanted to drop the heart onto the platter it clung. His skin opened as the veins bored into it, foul worms seeking hold. He tugged and managed to break free from it. Black blood oozed down his arm and splattered the cobbles where a salt circle had been drawn. What droplets landed on the salt hissed and smoked black. The heart slid across the silver platter.

  “Stand back,” Zoë directed him. The witches huddled over the heart that did not pulse as rapidly as Johnny thought it should.

  He clutched the back of his head. He’d killed her. He’d taken out the source of her very life…

  Johnny turned to Kambriel. Her chest was soaked in black blood, yet the wound had healed.

  “So she must be alive,” he murmured. Kneeling beside her, he placed his fingers aside her throat, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. And then…nothing. No pulse? But Zoë had promised…

  “She’s dying!”

  Chanting over Kam’s heart, the witches did not respond. They spoke Latin and hummed in rhythmic melody that at once sounded evil and then toyed with tendrils of sound Johnny imagined only angels could summon.

  Pressing his hands together in prayer before his mouth, he tasted his lover’s darkness. Had she stolen his soul when she’d bitten him? He hadn’t felt different following their bites. Well, yes, he’d felt vastly different, because he’d fallen in love with her then. Had plunged into her blood and kisses and swam within her veins.

  The witches moved rhythmically around Kam’s heart. Libby tapped the air above the organ with the athame, and then slashed it violently through the night, drawing in its wake a glittering golden bolt of light.

  Before him, Kam’s body pulsed upward. She choked up black blood.

  Johnny stiffened his fingers into fists, yet wisely, remained planted. He couldn’t stop it now. For good or for ill, the witches must continue the spell.

  All three women clasped hands and suddenly ceased their chanting. Spinning in the center of their circle was something dark. At Libby’s gasp, the witches stepped back from the spinning heart. A cloud of black winged creatures fluttered out from the organ. Much like the tattoos Johnny had seen peel away from her shoulder. He could but marvel. So many of them. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands. They flew skyward, silhouetted against the gray night clouds as if bats on wing.

  “Souls?” he wondered.

  “Indeed,” Zoë said.

  “Are they returning to their owners?”

  “No,” Verity said the same time Libby answered, “Yes.”

  Zoë clarified, “Perhaps. What’s important is her heart is now cleansed.” She bent to pick up the platter with both hands and held it before Johnny as if offering him tea and cookies.

  He took the heart, which was bright red and pulsed with new vibrancy. Though it weighed less, he could feel Kam’s essence in it, and he didn’t ever want to see it damaged again.

  He held the heart to his chest. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

  “You are a worthy soul for the vampiress’s heart,” Verity said.

  Hearing it put like that straightened Johnny’s shoulders. He kissed the heart. Sugar-sweet darkness spilled over his lips.
He whispered, “I love you.”

  Kam lie on the ground, still as a corpse, her face indescribably beautiful in her peace. A trail of black blood trickled from between her lips.

  Johnny knelt before her. Holding the heart in one hand, he made a spade with his other hand and looked over her chest to decide where to break through.

  Libby screamed. Behind him, Zoë and Verity also screamed.

  Johnny knew what had frightened them. And he wasn’t about to lose focus now. Lifting his hand, he ignored the sulfurous odor filling his nostrils. It threatened to seize up his senses until he passed out.

  Witchfire zinged through the air. He heard Zoë suggest they get the hell out of there—their safest course of action. Johnny didn’t want any of them in trouble with Himself for having helped him.

  The clank of the devil’s hooves walking up behind him crushed cobblestones.

  Heartbeats thudded, a grand thump against the universe. He would not turn around. Not when he was so close to saving Kam.

  Johnny plunged his fingers into Kam’s chest. She opened her mouth and eyes but her scream was silent. She looked right at him, and he nodded, and once again kissed her heart. Then he placed it inside her chest, and could feel the arteries seek connections, re-establishing blood flow—

  A talon cut across Johnny’s back. It sliced through bone and hooked through his lung. He gasped for breath, feeling his lung deflate as if a balloon. The talon swung again, digging into his torso and stirring up his insides.

  A baby wailed. Vomiting up blood beside Kambriel, Johnny managed to turn over. What he saw drained the life from his face. Dangling in Himself’s clutches, clad in a pink onesie and matching pink tutu, was Summer. She’d been bawling, but when she saw him, she stopped and stretched out her arms and babbled, “Goo-ee.” It wasn’t baby talk; it was what she called him.

  He shoved Kam away from him. “Go!” was all he could say. Take your freedom and never look back.

  But she did not leave. And Summer was here now. The Old Lad Himself had gone straight for his heart.

  As Johnny’s eyelids closed and the blood from his heart rose and spilled from his mouth, he sensed the warmth of Kam’s body as she sprawled over the top of him protectively.