Banshee Seduction (Montgomery's Sin Book 1)

by Diane Saxon

  He glanced at his watch. “What time do you need me?”

  “It starts at seven thirty, but at a push, you don’t need to be there until nine if you don’t want to eat with them. You’re the main event.”

  “Nine?”

  He could do it. That would give him time to go and grab a handful of the lush one and persuade her he was sorry for whatever misdemeanor she believed him capable of. It wasn’t his fault he’d sent her up in a ball of flames. He grinned. Yeah, it was.

  “Yeah. In Washington.”

  He whipped his head around in Daniel’s direction. “DC? That’s a fucking four-hour drive.”

  “Uh-huh. Washington, DC.” Daniel gave him a firm poke in the shoulder; his normally straight lips quirked. “And your English is deteriorating.”

  “It fucking isn’t. Why am I going to DC?”

  “Because you agreed to—and it’s in your contract.”

  He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Okay, he would not be seeing Ginny tonight. Maybe tomorrow. If Daniel didn’t have any other ideas.

  “So, any plans to sell my soul to the devil tomorrow night?”

  Daniel paused, tilted his head to one side as though seriously contemplating the matter, and Matt squinted a sideways look at him. “No. It’s not my area, and I would definitely not consider the selling of souls. It’s a very dangerous thing to do. You simply never get it back.”

  Dumbfounded, Matt gaped at his friend. “I was kidding.”

  Daniel studied him for a long moment, his topaz stare direct and intense. He lifted his finger and poked Matt again, this time in the chest. “Don’t kid about your soul—and never agree to sell it.” He stood, twisted his head one way and then the other as he scanned the field. “I’ll pick you up at four. Be ready. Black tie.”

  Matt sighed and watched Daniel walk away. For a straight-up sort, Daniel sure knew how to act weird on occasion.

  He stared out over the field, watched the players go through their routines, and leaned back against the hard seat. He’d phoned the library a few times and was told she wasn’t there, but Pearl had cooed down the line at him, and he wasn’t willing to risk another call.

  He glanced at his watch. The face was smashed. Goddammit, he never wore a watch during practice. He must be losing his mind.

  He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. He needed a plan because the longer he left the banshee to seethe, the worse it was going to be. What the hell did men do when they upset their women? He’d never noticed upsetting anyone before, except Emma, and he hadn’t really cared. Except when she’d tried to lance him with the dagger. What had she said when she launched herself at him? Yeah. He’d never bought her so much as a single flower.

  He leaped to his feet. Flowers. That’s what men did. They sent flowers.

  With hope in his heart, he headed in the direction of the locker room and his cell phone. Flowers. That would put it right.

  •●•

  She’d resisted. For two hours she’d resisted.

  The book she read didn’t suit her mood, so she flung it onto the sofa, headed for the kitchen, and grabbed a tub of chocolate-chunk fudge ice cream.

  The battered heart she thought firmly lodged in her chest shot into her throat and almost killed her as she kicked the freezer door closed and was greeted by the sight of a six-feet-two vampire, dressed in black leather.

  “Roni, for God’s sake, will you stop doing that to me?”

  Her friend grinned, bright red lipstick making her teeth an unnatural white. “Gimme a steak.”

  Ginny yanked open the refrigerator door. “Help yourself.”

  Roni leaned in, her long, sleek, red ponytail slid over one shoulder as she contemplated the contents of the fridge, and then reached for a T-bone steak. As she knew exactly what she would select, Ginny already had a plate and silverware ready to hand to her. Unable to muster up much enthusiasm though, she turned her back and wandered through to her living room to slump on the sofa. Hollow inside, it took her a moment to flip the lid off her ice cream and stare with blank numbness into the tub.

  “What’s wrong?” Roni folded her long, slender form into the armchair opposite, her dark eyes filled with concern.

  “What makes you think something is wrong?”

  The vampire paused and then forked a dainty piece of raw steak into her mouth, chewing it before she answered. “The tub of ice cream.” She waggled her fork at her. “The pajamas.” She nodded her head in the direction of the sofa. “The miserable book.”

  Ginny huffed out a laugh. Only a good friend would know and understand. She spooned a huge lump of ice cream into her mouth and then had to wait a moment for the brain freeze to clear. The roof of her mouth numbed, and her tongue refused to defrost. Even the voices in her head froze.

  Roni smiled, her eyes sly as she ate another piece of meat. “I thought you might have arranged to meet The Dane.”

  Ginny contemplated her friend for a moment while she defrosted. “What would make you think that?”

  Roni shrugged and grinned some more. “Pearl.”

  “Pearl has a big mouth.”

  “No. Not really.”

  With a gasp, Ginny stared at Roni and then flapped her spoon at her. A small sliver of ice cream flew off and landed on her own knee. “You used your powers.”

  “Well…”

  “You did. You read her mind.”

  “Pearl’s such a pea-brain—it was too easy to see what was inside her head.”

  “You shouldn’t do it. It’s not ethical.”

  Roni stuck another piece of steak in her mouth, looking decidedly like a sulky kid. “I couldn’t help it. She was like an open book. A preschooler’s open book.”

  Even slumping in the overstuffed chair, she still had the ability to look sleek and elegant. It made Ginny wonder why Matt would ever have looked at her, with her short legs and big butt, when he could so easily have been drawn to Roni.

  She closed her eyes and pinched the top of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Disgusted, she’d promised to stop torturing herself. Her emotions had worn her out, and still her mind trudged through the events of the previous evening. It wasn’t as though she could change things, even in her own mind.

  She opened her eyes to meet the dark intensity of Roni’s gaze.

  “Pearl said she told him where you lived.”

  “Yeah.” That’s how he’d known. It made sense. And just as the contents of Pearl’s head were easy for Roni to invade, the looseness of her tongue was obviously totally uninhibited by Matt’s presence.

  “What happened?”

  Weary, she leaned forward, placed the tub on her coffee table, and laid the spoon beside it. She rubbed at the spot of ice cream on her leg; the brown stain darkened her pink pajamas. Shame almost overwhelmed her so she could barely bring herself to tell Roni.

  “He made fun of me.”

  “What?”

  “He…umm.” A painful lump formed in her throat. It was even more difficult putting it into words. “Uh, mocked me.”

  “Mocked you?”

  “Yeah, mocked me—for my lack of…you know. Experience.”

  Roni’s sharp hiss had her raising her head to meet her friend’s furious black gaze. “How dare he?”

  “Well, I was…pathetic.”

  Roni leaped up, slapped the plate with her half-eaten steak on the table, and stalked over to the sofa. “Of course you’re not pathetic; you just don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Laughter caught Ginny unawares. “I think that was the problem. Although I have to say, I thought I was doing just fine.”

  Roni flopped down on the sofa next to her, and Ginny clung onto the cushion to stop from getting catapulted off the other end. “He should have taken more care with you.”

  She tried to shrug it off—the hurt, the embarrassment—but it squeezed a thick band around her chest. “He didn’t know. Not until we were…you know. In full flow, as it were.” Heat rushed up he
r throat and suffused her face.

  “Bastard.”

  “No, not really.” She had no idea why she felt the need to defend him. “He must have been really disappointed.”

  The gentle rub of Roni’s hand against her back brought the humiliation to the surface, and wailing voices rose in her head.

  Roni covered her ears. “Ow.”

  “Sorry.” She tried to restrain them, but once unleashed, they screeched in discord.

  “I hope you blasted him with some of that.”

  “No. He said he could hear a choir.”

  “He’s delusional.”

  Ginny snorted, leaned against Roni, and rested her head on Roni’s shoulder, taking comfort from her friend.

  “You want me to suck his brains out through his ear and desiccate them?”

  “Eeeew.”

  “Yeah.”

  They both sighed at the same time and allowed silence to fill the room as the voices in her head quietened.

  Ginny waggled her fingers at the TV. “He’s at a charity function tonight. It’s televised.”

  “Ah.”

  “I was trying to resist watching it.”

  “I see.”

  “It finished about ten minutes ago.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you think I should put it on catch-up?”

  “Yup.” Roni shoved her off her shoulder and stood up. “I need some of your ice cream.”

  As the vampire wandered out to the kitchen in search of another tub of the gooey stuff, Ginny snatched up the TV remote and clicked it on to start the program. Her heart hammered as she fast-forwarded it to catch a glimpse of him. With a jolt, she stopped the program and restarted it.

  “Oh dear God.” No wonder he turned her on. “He’s on the stage.” Every muscle went weak at the sight of him.

  “What?” Roni’s voice drifted in from the kitchen.

  “They have him on stage.” Her mouth watered; she leaned forward and drooled. “He’s half naked.”

  “He’s what?” Roni flashed in, and Ginny almost told her to cover her eyes. “Oh…my!”

  “Yeah.” She sighed.

  Roni lowered herself onto the edge of the sofa. She placed her bowl of ice cream on the table, grabbed the plate she’d abandoned, and picked up a strip of raw steak with her fingers. She chewed, mesmerized by the image of Matt. Ginny resisted the urge to poke her best friend in the eye as the vampire ogled her man.

  Her man! No. No. It wasn’t going to happen. Heartless, she quashed the idea.

  But she could enjoy the show.

  Her heart skipped a beat as the woman on stage aimed what looked like a bottle of baby oil at The Dane and squirted liquid all over his chest. She had a giggle like a hysterical hyena as she stepped in close to rub her hand sinuously over his enormous pecs. Ginny swallowed, the loud gulp echoed back from her friend.

  Matt threw back his head, opened his arms wide to allow the woman better access to his body, and gave a deep, rumbling laugh.

  Click. Her finger still on the button, the TV went blank. The band around her chest tightened painfully, and nausea churned the cold ice cream in her stomach.

  “I’m going to bed.”

  •●•

  He had no idea why he had to put up with this shit. Even Daniel looked surprised when the organizers declared they were going to auction Matt off to the highest bidder. Lucky for them his agent stepped in and put restrictions on the event, because otherwise he would have walked.

  They’d wanted him to donate an evening in his company to the highest bidder, a romantic dinner for two. No chance. So they settled on having him on stage, half naked. They would have had him stripped down to his underwear, but he told them he’d gone commando, and national TV wasn’t going to allow his naked privates on full view—even for charity.

  He threw back his head and gave the best deep laugh he could muster while he tolerated grasping, aged fingers as the woman swiped them across his flesh. She grazed her fingernails over his nipples in a frenetic display of desperation. Her avid, lust-filled eyes kept trying to meet his, but he kept his gaze on the audience and performed for them. After all, the woman had paid decent bucks to have him publicly sexualized.

  The slow thrash of his dragon told him he might just have to kill his agent.

  He raked his gaze over the audience, caught sight of Daniel at the back of the room leaning against the bar, and decided the guy looked mortified enough for both of them. Matt gave another chuckle and wondered at the waste of the brand new tux he’d had made as baby oil dribbled off his chest and down his pants.

  Nausea rose at the sweet sickly smell of it. Too overpowering for his senses, he reeled with its cloying aroma, revolted by the pervading scent that invaded his mind to make him dizzy.

  He just wanted to see Ginny again, make amends, watch her laugh, and stoke her passion.

  He blinked. A thick dark oiliness filled his belly, and he swallowed the knot of queasiness forming in his throat. Heat surged over his skin, and flames licked at his insides. Horror crawled, slow and insidious, as his mind dulled. He stared across the room at Daniel. Acid bubbled in his belly as he tried to communicate to his agent something was not right. Their gazes met, Daniel gave a brief nod as his confused eyes narrowed, and he pushed himself upright.

  In slow motion, Matt took the woman’s hand and raised it to his lips, placed a kiss upon her palm, and bowed to the audience. As his eyes rolled and another bout of nausea struck, he cast his gaze over the onlookers. His vision blurred and skittered back to catch Daniel’s worried frown, deepening as his agent appeared to wade through the fog in Matt’s brain, down the side aisle toward the stage.

  With another bow, Matt turned to make his way off stage. He faltered as he reached the black curtains, his vision darkened around the edges, bright lights flashed, and the room began to spin. The sound of cackling, gleeful voices pounded his head as the audience clapped and cheered. The sounds ricocheted in his confused brain. Loose-limbed, he could barely get his body to coordinate as he staggered backstage, muscles weak and watery.

  He knew the moment his control started to slip and could do nothing about it. His human withdrew, allowing the beast to take control.

  “Matt? What’s wrong?” Daniel’s urgent tones registered, and Matt reached out for him.

  He stared at his own hand on Daniel’s shoulder. Claws, thick and strong, elongated from the ends of his fingers. Scales appeared over the back of his hand, their translucent green and purple almost hypnotizing him.

  “Shit.” Daniel pushed him, and Matt tripped over his own feet to stagger, almost blind, down a long, narrow corridor, past the green room, and into a private dressing room. With ease, Daniel shoved him inside, Matt’s body loose and compliant.

  His agent slammed the door and locked it behind them. “What the hell happened?”

  Matt shook his head to try and clear the mists. His chest burned. The numbness in his lips made them feel like warm wax as he tried to speak. He gave a small cough and blasted Daniel with a fireball, singeing one eyebrow clean off. Impressed, he let out a wild chuckle.

  “Goddammit, Matt. What’s going on?”

  He opened his mouth to reply, but a loud roar emerged instead of words. His mind dulled, and Daniel shrank as the dragon took control and shifted. The loud rending of material sounded as the shreds of his pants hit the floor. He snickered and sprayed the wall with orange and yellow flames that wavered in front of his hazy vision.

  Decisive, Daniel marched to the window, flung it open, and leaned out, peering all around before he turned to Matt. “Get out, quick. This is not good. Not good at all. Fly home.” Daniel bent and scooped up Matt’s ripped clothing. “I’ll settle things here, I’ll tell them you’ve been taken ill, and I’ll meet you back at your place in a few hours. Go!”

  The firm push of Daniel’s hand on his back had his weak body falling from the window. Down he went, twisting and turning in a curl of delicate wings he’d not used in
years. He rushed to meet the ground, and Daniel’s clear voice sounded in his ears as though he were right beside him.

  “Fuck it, Matt. Fly!”

  He couldn’t fly. His wings tangled around him. His stomach revolted, shooting acidic bile up his throat to explode in a ball of fire while he freefalled, unable to gain control of his unwieldy limbs.

  The pavement swelled in his vision.

  Hot air rushed up from an underground vent to greet him and swooped his wings out with a loud whoosh and a painful crack of tautening skin. His toenails scraped the asphalt as he glided just over the top of the ground and then veered up toward the sky. Daniel leaned from the twentieth-story window, relief etched deep on his face.

  If it had been nineteen stories, Matt would have been a whole heap of dead dragon on the sidewalk.

  Brain thickened with dull confusion, Matt allowed his dragon instincts to take over. He raised his head and breathed in deeply, absorbing elusive scents to soothe his soul before he turned in the direction of home.

  Chapter Six

  Too hot and restless to sleep, Ginny leaned her elbows on her balcony wall, cupped her chin in her hands, and stared into the clear, still night. She took another deep breath and sighed it out.

  No wonder the man laughed at her innocence. He obviously had highly experienced and exciting women throw themselves at him all the time. Beautiful, sexy women. He was a star. Rich, famous, and divinely gorgeous.

  She snorted. Why had he even looked twice at her? He gave her a taste of heaven and walked away unaffected, his life unchanged. While hers had been turned upside down, never to be the same again.

  She rubbed her tired eyes, but knew if she went back to bed, sleep would still elude her. She removed her hands from her face, her attention seized by the sight of a cloud as it skimmed rapidly over the bright sliver of moon high above. She blinked, confused, as the cloud swooped back in the opposite direction to block out the moonlight again. And again. And again.

  She had to be hallucinating. She leaned out and peered harder into the darkness as the cloud flapped, coming closer to her balcony.

  Her heart thrummed. Her stomach clenched.