Angel of Darkness

by Cynthia Eden

  The keys were still in the ignition. His strong, tanned fingers reached for the keys.

  She touched his hand. “Thank you.” The words sounded hoarse.

  He glanced at her with one brow rising. “You don’t need to thank me.”

  But he’d saved her life. Perhaps twice in one night. And once upon a time, her sweet Southern mother had taught her manners. Some instincts couldn’t die.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against the torn seat. “I’m not going to wake up handcuffed to your bed or anything. . . am I?”

  Silence. The thick, uncomfortable kind that normally would make her squirm.

  But right then, she could barely even hang on to consciousness.

  “Fair warning ...” She licked her lips. “When the sun goes down, I’m a different girl.” One who’d had to learn to fight back the nausea and drink blood from a live source. One who knew how to seduce and hide the shaking in her knees.

  If only she weren’t so tired now ...

  But she’d been running for months. Been so desperate.

  If he wanted to kill me, I’d be dead by now.

  Grim comfort, but the only comfort she had. Because in that instant, Nicole knew there was no choice. There hadn’t been from the moment she’d crawled back up to the road. She needed him.

  But what would he do with her?

  The hotel’s walls were paper-thin. The bedding was old and faded.

  And there were no handcuffs in sight.

  Keenan carried Nicole to the bed and placed her carefully onto the sagging mattress. She didn’t stir. She’d gone to sleep—passed out—about three hours ago. He’d kept driving, wanting to get her to relative safety.

  He hadn’t stopped all the men who’d taken her. Romeo and a sidekick had fled. Since Keenan didn’t want those two charging after her again, he’d made sure he crossed the border.

  Not that Texas would be that much safer for his little vampire.

  Vampire.

  He stared down at her, frowning. Blood soaked her shirt, and vampires couldn’t afford that much blood loss. When she woke, she’d be desperate to drink again.

  Food for a vamp. Looked like the mighty had fallen. Not that he minded having her mouth on him. No, that had been ...

  Pleasurable.

  Handcuffed to the bed.

  His jaw clenched. He didn’t need handcuffs to keep her by his side. Soon enough, she’d realize that he was the only thing standing between her and the monsters on her trail. Now he understood the whispers he’d heard—the stories about the Other who were tracking his runaway teacher.

  He reached for her shirt. One pull and the fabric ripped. Her skin was stained red with blood, but the wound had started to close. Good. He’d clean her up, let her sleep and ...

  And figure out just what he was supposed to do with her.

  Her lips were parted as her breath gently eased out. She was so pale. Far paler than she’d been back in New Orleans. Back then, she’d had sun-kissed skin and laughing eyes.

  Now, her skin was like every vampire’s he’d ever met. Too pale. And her eyes, when she fed—pitch-black.

  His fingers skimmed down her arm. The flesh was as soft as he’d imagined. Smooth. Chilled.

  She was—

  Her lashes flew up. Her eyes were green, that deep green he remembered so well. “I don’t want to die ...” She whispered, her voice fretful.

  “You won’t.” Not that day. He’d make sure of it.

  Her left hand rose to her throat. “Hurt me ...”

  Did she even know what she was saying? Doubtful. Her eyes were already starting to sag closed again, and her voice had slurred on the words.

  But he leaned close to her anyway and let his mouth hover near her ear. “I won’t.”

  At least, not any more than he already had.

  It seemed that nearly everything had been taken from him. Even the life—her life—that he’d meant to save.

  Vampire.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was the thirst that woke her. The pain of her parched throat and the grumble of her stomach trickled through her consciousness. Thirst/hunger ... for vamps it was one and the same.

  Then the other sounds registered. The soft expulsions of breath in the air. The squeak of beds, close, probably within one hundred feet. The rumble of cars on a highway.

  She licked her lips. The move didn’t help the thirst any. Nicole opened her eyes. He was beside her. Keenan’s long lashes cast dark shadows against his cheeks.

  His chest was bare, the muscles strong and toned and his flesh tanned a golden brown. The thin sheet lay just over his hips, barely covering his waist and legs.

  Nicole glanced down. Her clothes were gone. Right. She’d figured that when she felt the cold air on her breasts. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it up.

  And that thirst had her teeth stretching, burning ...

  He was still asleep. So close. If she was careful, he wouldn’t even realize what she was doing.

  Maybe.

  Nicole leaned over him and her hair fell forward to brush against his arm. She could hear his heartbeat drumming. Such a strong, powerful beat. He’d tasted so good before. If she could just get a few more sips of blood, she’d have enough strength to head back into the night and disappear.

  Her mouth lowered toward his throat. Just a few drops ...

  “So I had to promise not to hurt you, but as soon as you wake, you go right for my throat.”

  She froze. Her gaze lifted, and she saw his lashes slowly rise. He turned his head a fraction and met her gaze. “Hardly seems fair, sweet.”

  She swallowed—tried to, anyway. “You don’t ... understand the thirst.” For a human, it would feel as if the person had gone a week without food. So consuming. Overwhelming.

  “I understand more than you can imagine.”

  No, he didn’t. She wrenched away, keeping that sheet clutched to her as she rolled for the edge of the bed.

  He grabbed her wrist in a lightning-fast move. Now it was her turn to freeze.

  “Where are you going?” He demanded, but his hand wasn’t rough on her flesh. His thumb was ... stroking her. Like he was enjoying the feel of her skin. Weird.

  Sexy.

  A shiver skated over her. “If I can’t take from you, then I have to find someone else.”

  Now his hold tightened. “Going to seduce another human?”

  Her head whipped back toward him. “Would you rather I ripped out their throats?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t do anything with them. Humans are dangerous.”

  She laughed at that. “Of all the monsters out there, I fear them the least.”

  “Then you’re being a fool.” He still didn’t let her go.

  And, great, he’d called her a fool. Way to sweet-talk.

  “Humans hunted you last night,” he said. “When humans realize what you are, they want you dead.”

  “Everyone wants me dead.” Why did he think she’d been running for so long? “I’ve been running from shifters, demons, and hunters like you ever since I became one of the undead.” And she was tired.

  If they’d just leave her alone ...

  But since she’d risen as a vampire, she seemed to have some kind of beacon on her back. They kept coming after her. Before she’d left New Orleans, a group of demons had broken into her house. Screaming, fighting, they’d tried to force her to leave with them.

  They hadn’t expected her vampire strength. She hadn’t expected it either. But when she’d nearly ripped a demon’s arm from his body, the others had finally backed off.

  “How long have you been a vampire?”

  Not a growl now. A deep, rumbling question. His thumb still stroked her wrist.

  Her breasts tightened. “About six months.” She licked her lips. Thirsty. The sheet had dipped near his waist. She wouldn’t look down there, well, not again, anyway. “One day, I was your average almost thirty-year-old, walking in the sun, eating chocolate cake, dri
nking margaritas after work. Then ...”

  She shrugged. A careless move when she cared too much.

  “Then one night, I became something else.” She wouldn’t talk about that night. The hunter wasn’t going to pity her and offer to let her walk away. Hunters had no pity.

  “A vampire bit you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, that’s usually the way it works. He bit, I fought back and—”

  “You had to ingest his blood in order to change.”

  She drove the broken glass into his throat. Blood poured from the wound. On her hands. Her face. Her shirt. Nicole cleared her throat. “I guess I did.” She paused, and her hands clenched around the sheet. “His, but not the other bastard’s.”

  “The other—”

  “There were two of them there that night. One who attacked and one who just watched.” No matter how much she’d pleaded, he hadn’t helped her. “When I fought back, the other one got out of there fast enough. He ran, but one day I’ll find him.”

  “Will you?”

  Her head jerked in a nod. “Damn right. And he’ll pay for what he did.” No, what he hadn’t done.

  Help me.

  Keenan turned his hand over and offered his wrist. “Take the blood.”

  Nicole blinked. “Why—”

  “You can’t hunt. Those humans might have tracked us and if you go out to hunt, they’ll find you.” He paused, then said, “And if you don’t drink, you’ll just slow me down.”

  “Uh, I don’t have to slow anything with you, we’re not—”

  “Drink.”

  Right, like she was going to refuse a buffet. She yanked his wrist toward her mouth. Her teeth scraped over his flesh. Her tongue tasted him and then she bit.

  “Nicole.”

  Her gaze flew to his face. His blue eyes glittered at her and, as she watched, a dark flush covered his cheeks.

  So good. No taste had ever hit her like this, and with every delicious drop of his blood, strength seemed to pour back into her.

  “Is it ... supposed to feel like this?” His voice was gravel-rough.

  Was she hurting him? Her fingers were curled tight around his wrist, but she’d tried to be careful when she bit.

  His teeth ground together. “Your mouth ...” His breath hissed out.

  Her head lifted at once. “Pain? I’m sorry, I—”

  Keenan gave a hard negative shake of his head. “Pleasure.”

  Oh. She hadn’t felt pleasure when she’d been bitten. Only terror and agony. But the men she’d tasted over the last few months had seemed to enjoy the bite, and—

  He pushed his wrist toward her mouth. “More.”

  She wanted more, but ... There was always a price. “Do you know what happens when I drink?”

  His eyes narrowed.

  The sheet had started to rise at his waist. Aroused. Oh, damn, she’d meant to keep her eyes up. She yanked her stare to his face. “When they drink, vampires link with their victims.” Another lesson she’d learned. “The more I drink, the more control I’ll have over you.” Maybe she should have just shut her mouth. Having control over a hunter could only be a good thing.

  But ... she remembered what it was like when someone else had the control. When someone else had been in her mind, forcing her actions, and yanking her around like a puppet on a string. I won’t do that to him. She dropped Keenan’s hand.

  There were two kinds of vampires in the world. Those that had been born to the blood, and those that had been taken, like her. The Taken had been transformed, but if you traced the bloodline—the literal, actual line of blood that had been spilled and drunk—a Taken would always track back to a Born.

  And the Borns ... they were the ones with the absolute control. They could link with every person in their sick blood family tree. Link and control.

  The Born’s thoughts would whisper through his family’s minds, slipping inside, weakening, compelling, controlling. . .

  No, no, I don’t want to kill!

  But she’d been made to kill.

  No control.

  She wouldn’t do the same to Keenan. No matter what else he was, he’d saved her the night before.

  “You won’t have control over me.”

  He sounded so certain that she almost laughed. But when she glanced at his eyes, she found his gaze burning on her.

  “It doesn’t work that way for my kind,” he said. “Only one thing can control us and that one thing isn’t a vampire. Vamps have no power over me.” He stared down at his wrist a moment, at the faint marks on his skin, then he glanced back at her. “So drink up because you can’t hurt me, you can’t kill me, and you can’t control me.”

  Her fingers reached for him and curled around his strong wrist. “Sounds like you’re my perfect food supply.” The words were meant to be mocking.

  She lifted his wrist to her mouth and sucked the skin. Her eyes were still on him, and she saw the flare of his pupils. Her teeth rasped over the flesh. “Too bad you’re a bounty hunter and all you want is to turn me over to your boss for a quick payment.” Because she was a wanted woman.

  Some blood could never be washed away.

  Nicole bit him. His breathing deepened and his drumming heartbeat filled her ears as she drank.

  Strength filled her. Strength and ... need.

  Lust.

  She’d never physically wanted her other prey. She’d just taken a few sips from them and hadn’t indulged long enough to truly enjoy the taste of their blood.

  Keenan was ... different.

  She licked his flesh and stole away the last few drops of blood. Their eyes held. There was no mistaking the raw desire on his face or in his eyes.

  “I’m not a bounty hunter.”

  She lowered his hand. “You ... you’re with Night Watch.” Night Watch was the bounty-hunting agency when it came to paranormals. The Night Watch agents were often Other, too. Who better to catch the supernaturals than the shifters with their enhanced senses? The witches with their magic?

  And she’d already been warned once by a Night Watch agent. Dee Daniels had sent all the vamps a warning when she slayed Grim, the Born Master who’d been controlling them.

  Cross the line and die.

  “I know about Night Watch, but I don’t work for them.” His head cocked. “I don’t work for anyone.”

  Now her heart raced too fast. “But you said ...”

  “No, you said. And I was hunting at the time, so I guess that did make me a hunter.” His lips twisted. “Of sorts.”

  “What were you hunting?” Her fast heartbeat seemed to shake her chest.

  “You.”

  She jumped off the bed. The sheet ripped, but she kept a hold on just enough fabric to cover her body.

  “I’ve been chasing after you for a while now.”

  “Chasing me ... but not because you were hired to find me.”

  He shook his head.

  Where were her clothes? “Then why?”

  “Because you’re the key.”

  No, um, she was a vampire. Not some kind of shiny—

  “I lost something very, very important, and you can help me get it back.

  —magical—what?

  He rose from the bed. The sheet dropped. Oh, damn, she looked. Very impressive.

  Too bad he was crazy. “I’m not a key to anything.”

  He walked around the bed and gave her a real nice view of his sculpted ass. Then he snagged a pair of jeans from the back of a chair. Well, that was probably for the best. He yanked up the jeans and kept stalking toward her. “Actually, I think you’re the key to everything.”

  Her gaze searched his. “You’re wrong. I’m a schoolteacher. I-I—”

  “You were a teacher. Now you’re a vampire.” He shook his head and studied her a little too clinically. “I don’t know if that will make things easier or harder.”

  Nicole started creeping away from him. “Look, I really wish you luck on finding your lost key, but I think it’s
time for me to leave.” Her back bumped into the door. “Thanks for the, ah, blood, and the bed, but now—”

  His gaze flew to the door behind her.

  Then the door shook. Hard. Someone was banging a very powerful fist against that wood.

  “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re the key,” he growled. “You ever wonder why all those demons were after you?”

  “I just thought I had really crappy luck.” Even before her change, she’d been dealt one raw hand by fate. If the vampire hadn’t taken me out ...

  “Actually, you may be the luckiest woman I’ve ever met.”

  Bull.

  The door shook again.

  “There’s a demon on the other side of that door,” he told her. “He knows you’re here, but he thinks I’m just some human, so that means we’ll both be easy prey.”

  She sidled away from the door. “I don’t care much for demons.” Not since that gang had jumped her.

  His eyelids flickered just a bit.

  “But I’m not scared of them,” she continued quickly. “I—”

  The door smashed as wood splintered beneath the force of the intruder’s blow. Nicole jumped back as the demon shoved his way inside.

  The guy was muscled and tall and had angry, pitch-black eyes. A demon’s real eyes were always black. The iris, the sclera—everything was black. But usually the demons used glamour magic to hide that telling indicator.

  Guess this guy didn’t care that she knew what he was.

  “Vamp,” his voice thundered, “I’m tired of chasing—”

  His head snapped up. His eyes zeroed in on Keenan. And the demon paled. “You ... you’re not ...”

  Keenan stepped forward and a grim smile curved his lips. “I’m her guardian.”

  The demon’s black eyes seemed to double in size. “Bullshit! She’s a vamp, she don’t have—”

  “No one touches her, no one hurts her, without going through me first.”

  Oh, wait, that was ... Nicole’s breath rushed out. Nice. But she was a vamp with superhuman strength, and she could certainly manage to handle a demon or two.

  Even if the guy in her doorway looked to be close to six foot four and made of bricks. Size didn’t equal strength. Not in this new world she lived in.