Dante’s Salvation

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  “Dante,” she said on a gasp as the orgasm grew closer, unfurling from deep inside her, spreading outward, taking over her body.

  Come for me, my sweet.

  “Yes. Yes.”

  The storm of the orgasm gripped her. She bucked against her own hand, but it wasn’t hers any longer. Dante was there, holding her, pumping his thick, hard cock into her as she cried out against his shoulder. His scent and heat enveloped her.

  She panted and lay limp against her pillows, a sheen of perspiration quickly cooling her skin.

  Alone.

  Her breathing hitched again, only this time it wasn’t in pleasure. Hot tears stung her eyes, and she rolled over, curling herself around a pillow, burying her face in it.

  No. No, no, no. She wasn’t going to do this. She didn’t need a man.

  But she wanted one. She wanted Dante with his smooth voice and sexy body. His dark eyes and a body to make her tingle and yearn.

  She shouldn’t have let him leave tonight. If she was any kind of woman, she would have asked him in. But she was a chickenshit. So what did she do? She came in, ate her giant cinnamon roll, then ordered pizza and ate most of that, too.

  “Fucking birthday,” she whispered and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Things will be different next year. And Candice better stay the hell away from me for a very long time.

  —

  Dante gasped as his soul reentered his body. He jerked open the fly of his slacks and delved into his briefs to grab his throbbing cock. He stroked himself hard and fast, the vision of his gorgeous Wendy writhing and whimpering as she touched herself forever planted in his mind.

  He came with a soft groan, imagining her slick heat clamping around his cock instead of his own hand. Panting, he dropped his head back against the cushions and waited for his heart rate to fall back to normal.

  His dick twitched beneath his palm as if still straining for a touch from her.

  Exhaustion weighed him down. Astral projection always wore him out. Having entered Wendy’s mind while doing so had taken everything out of him except his need for her. When she’d called out his name as she came, and he’d heard her thoughts, her craving for him, he’d cursed himself for having left her alone.

  With a sigh, his heartbeat still thudding against his ribs, he closed his eyes and forced his body to relax once more. He’d give her five days. If she hadn’t shown up at his shop in that time, he’d go after her and make her his.

  With the sounds of the breeze rustling the leaves of the weeping willow next to the house, and the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, he closed his eyes and breathed deep the scent of roses, Wendy, and sex.

  “Put that wanker away and get yer ass in here.”

  Dante jerked awake at Digger’s words. He squinted against the morning light. Though he sat on the covered deck, the sun had risen over the backyard and nearly blinded him.

  “Mrs. Muldoon is peeking out ’er window at ya. Gettin’ an eyeful.”

  He sat up and realized his pants were still open and sure enough, he was hanging out. Glancing up at the second-story window of their neighbor’s house, he saw their octogenarian neighbor peering out her window at him. He waved at her and sent her a mischievous grin.

  She turned away from the window after giving him a fierce scowl, and he tucked himself into his slacks.

  “Git yer arse in here. Ya need to see this.”

  With a sigh of annoyance, Dante shoved up from the low lounger and ambled through the open French doors into the living room.

  Digger shoved a cup of steaming coffee into his hand then motioned to the widescreen television. “There’s some bad shit afoot, my friend.”

  Dante took a sip of the acrid brew Digger called coffee and went to the leather sofa. The morning news was on, and the female reporter stood on the street in front of The Starlight.

  “Two male victims who have yet to be identified were found in the alley behind this popular nightclub in the early hours of the morning. The police have not yet released many details, but a source tells us the men had been decapitated.”

  A cold chill went down Dante’s spine.

  “I just got off the phone with Jesse,” Digger said from behind him. “He got a call from Terrence, the club owner, this morning about four to get back down there. Terrence found the bodies. The victims are Justin Brighton and Bartholomew Hastings.”

  Vampires both.

  How did one kill a vampire? Decapitation or a stake through the heart. And neither were easy feats for a human. Vampires had strength ten times that of a human. Whoever did this... “Unless it was another vampire—”

  “They weren’t working alone,” Digger finished.

  He and Digger knew Justin and Bart. They were good, honest, hardworking guys. Justin worked on the loading docks at a warehouse, and Bart ran an art gallery downtown. As far as he knew, they didn’t have any enemies in the wide-ranging vampire population of Seattle.

  “What do you make of this?” he asked Digger.

  His friend sat down on the loveseat and set his mug on the coffee table, leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “I think we’ve got some vampire slayers among us.”

  —

  The ringing phone pulled Wendy from a sensual dream of Dante’s hot bod making hers zing with arousal. Breathing heavily, she rolled over and grabbed the cordless from the nightstand.

  “Hello?” Her voice cracked, and she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

  “You’re still sleeping? Jeesh, it’s almost ten. I’m downstairs. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

  Wendy plopped back against the pillows. “No.” Last thing she wanted was to see Candice right now.

  “Come on. I figure since dinner went so badly for you, I owe you a birthday meal.”

  Thoughts of the mostly eaten pizza from the night before made her cringe. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You’re mad at me.”

  Well, duh. She rolled over and hugged her pillow. She wanted to go back to sleep and dream of Dante some more.

  “Does it help if I tell you Eric turned out to be a dud? He still lives with his parents.”

  Wendy sighed. “You know what, Candice? I don’t give a damn.” She never spoke to her friend this way, and part of her felt like a petulant child, but it needed to be said. She couldn’t let Candice walk all over her anymore. “It was my birthday, and I spent it alone because you made me go to that damn place and then abandoned me for some guy you just met. You hurt me.”

  Friends before lovers. Wasn’t that what a true friend believed? How many times over the years had she canceled a date because Candice had been in a funk and needed a friend?

  “I’m...sorry. But you didn’t seem to mind when I asked if it was okay.”

  She’d told Candice to do whatever she wanted. Shouldn’t a person she’d known since childhood be able to read between the lines? “Call me back when you really are sorry and it’s not followed by a ‘but’.” She punched the disconnect button on the phone, hanging up on Candice.

  “Welcome to thirty-seven,” she muttered as she tossed the handset onto the nightstand. “No man, and now no friend. Good going.”

  She swiped her hand over her face and sighed. This year was going to be different. She had to grow a backbone before she hit forty, or where would she be? She’d let Candice run the show for...ugh...longer than she wanted to think about. Candice overshadowed her in every way, and it was time she stopped walking in her shadow, getting tugged along to nightclubs she didn’t fit into, stupid schemes like last night to find a man.

  Look at the wonderful man she’d met last night while sitting in a café. She didn’t need to go in search of a guy. If the right one were ever to enter her life—and she certainly wasn’t going to hold her breath until it happened—she’d meet him on her turf, doing things she liked to do.

  Maybe a class or two at the community college would be good.

  The phone rang again, and she stared at it, wondering if she s
hould bother. Candice was too self-centered to get it on the first try, she was sure.

  With a sigh, she reached for the phone. “Hello?”

  “I didn’t mean to make you mad.” Candice sniffled. “You said it was okay if I went with him.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What, exactly, would you think if the tables were turned? If it was your birthday and you were forced into the humiliation of sitting in a place with twenty other couples—alone—and then I abandon you in the hopes of getting laid?”

  Candice probably couldn’t even picture it because she’d never been alone unless she wanted to be.

  On the other hand, if she hadn’t been rushing out of Dinner and a Date, she wouldn’t have bumped into Dante, and then he wouldn’t have sought her out later. The suckiest part of the entire night was that Dante was the best thing to happen to her in longer than she could remember, and it was only because he’d made her feel like a beautiful woman.

  He was all charm. He was too young for her, too wealthy, too cultured. But he’d made her feel, for just an hour or so, as if she really could attract a man like him.

  Candice cut into her thoughts with a soft, “I’m sorry.”

  Wendy could hear the sincerity in her friend’s voice, but she wasn’t ready to let her off the hook yet. “Don’t do that to me ever again, whether it’s my birthday or not.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Candice sucked in a shuddery breath. “Can I please take you out to breakfast?”

  She’d need to eat salads for the next week to make up for the pizza. “Come on up. I need to grab a shower.”

  “Thanks.” Candice sounded subdued.

  Wendy hoped she’d never have to speak to her friend that way again. She hated confrontation.

  —

  Dante hadn’t seen a gathering of vampires this large in a hundred years. Not since the last vampire killings around the turn of the twentieth century.

  Old friends that hadn’t seen each other in decades clasped hands and gave each other back-slapping hugs. There were new faces among the crowd. Young vampires, recently turned. For their sake, the meeting had been postponed until midnight Sunday, for they couldn’t yet be out in the daylight. Most of the young vampires stayed close to their masters and mistresses—the older, experienced vampires who had turned them.

  Thoughts of Wendy floated through his mind as he took a seat in the auditorium. With the threat of a vampire slayer—or slayers—on the loose, he couldn’t in good conscience seek her out as he’d planned. Perhaps if she knew who and what he was it would be different, but he wouldn’t put such an innocent life at risk, no matter how much he craved her.

  Digger sat down next to him as Gaston Pierre stepped up onto the stage. Gaston’s age neared one thousand. He was by far the oldest of the Seattle sect, and everyone had looked to him as leader for as long as Dante had been on the west coast. He was a handsome man who’d been turned in his prime. Though vampires didn’t age as humans did, he now held the appearance of a fifty year old. The last time Dante had been to his home, more than twenty years ago, he’d had a small harem of young, svelte, female vampires and humans at his beck and call.

  Dante couldn’t imagine living so long. He also couldn’t imagine at that age wanting a half-dozen different women.

  Wendy.

  He forced her image from his mind and concentrated on their leader.

  “Welcome,” Gaston said, his voice strong and carrying over the crowd, which quickly grew silent. “I wish this gathering were under better circumstances. It has been far too long since we gathered as brothers and sisters.”

  A murmured agreement moved through the crowd.

  “As you well know, two of our brethren were slaughtered Friday night. Justin and Bartholomew were good men, and it is sad their lives were taken while they were both so young.”

  “So what are we going to do about it?” A male called from the center of the auditorium. “Any ideas who committed the murders?”

  “That is why this gathering has been called,” Gaston continued. “For nearly a century, we’ve walked among the humans, living our lives in peace and without fear. There are many who refused to attend this meeting because of the terror spreading throughout our sect.

  “No. We have no idea who committed this heinous act.”

  Dante had desperately hoped someone would have stepped forward with some information. Someone had to know who killed Justin and Bart. The worst possibility was that it could be one of their own. Possibly someone right here in this auditorium tonight.

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” a female from the back called out.

  Gaston’s crystal blue gaze traveled over the group. “We must band together as we once did ages ago. I know many of you have taken human lovers, and their lives may be in as much danger as our own.

  “For now, we know nothing of the murderer. He or she may be a vampire, or it may be a group of humans who have discovered us. I spoke with the county coroner, and he told me the murder weapon was not found, but it is suspected to be a sword.”

  Gaston was heavy into local politics. Being his age, he walked freely in daylight. He sat on the city council and had friends in very high places.

  Another murmur rose from the gathering. It solidified the fear that the killer or killers knew exactly how to kill a vampire. One clean cut of a sword to effectively decapitate their victim. This also spoke of the fact that their killer was most likely a vampire, because it took a hell of a lot of strength to accomplish such a feat.

  Dante’s stomach tightened in dread. It was the 1910 massacre all over again, and this would be only the beginning. Or it could have been a one-time shot. The murder could have been carried out by some disgruntled vampire who had a beef to pick with either or both Justin and Bart.

  That was the terrifying part. The not knowing.

  “We will gather here again in one week’s time to discuss any further developments. Until then, I ask for anyone who may have any information to please contact me. My door is always open to you.”

  “So we just sit around and wait for more of us to be slaughtered?” another man shouted. “You’ve developed no plan to put a stop to this?”

  Arrogant bastard. Obviously this guy knew nothing. What could they do at this juncture? He probably hadn’t been a vampire long enough to remember what it was like before. They couldn’t expose themselves to the humans.

  “Our brothers and sisters on the Seattle Police force are doing all they can to find clues,” Gaston said, his voice calm. “I will remain in contact with the coroner and the chief of police. Until we know more, there is little we can do except watch our backs and those of our sect.”

  “This is bullshit.”

  Dante turned in his seat to see the man stand up. He was young, probably turned less than a half century.

  “There’s assholes out there hunting us, killing us, and we sit here and wait for another attack?”

  “Pete, please,” the woman next to him said as she tugged on his arm, trying to get him to sit down. Dante recognized her as one of the older generation, at least as old as he. She’d obviously turned Pete, yet she had no control over him.

  “I understand your concern,” Gaston said, “but we cannot act in haste. Keeping ourselves a secret is paramount. Think of what would happen if the humans found out that nearly five hundred vampires walk among them everyday. And there is nothing that can be done if we do not know who the killer or killers are.”

  Pete slumped back into his seat, and Dante turned forward once again.

  Digger leaned in close. “The real question is, how did the killer know Justin and Bart were vampires? I have a sick feelin’ about this, Dant. I think it’s one of us.”

  Dante nodded. He felt plenty sick himself. Vampires didn’t reveal themselves to the humans unless a strong, nearly unbreakable relationship had formed. Even then, most human lovers had no idea of the sheer number of vampires that populated the city.

  One of the first lesso
ns taught to newly-turned vamps was how to feed from humans without the human finding out or remembering. Dante found it difficult to believe any one of them had been so foolish as to reveal themselves to a human who would want them dead.

  Which led again to it being one of their own.

  “I’m sorry I cannot offer more information at this time. Please take care of yourselves and each other. I will see you in one week’s time.” Gaston turned to exit the stage by way of the stairs.

  The crowd grew loud as talking resumed and, over everyone, he heard Pete spouting off about finding the asshole responsible and ripping out his heart.

  “If it were that simple,” Dante muttered. He turned his attention on Digger. “You are at The Starlight more than I am. Has there been any sign of unrest among the vamps who hang out there?”

  Digger shook his head. “Not that I’ve noticed. And the only humans in the joint who know who we are and what we do there are Terrance, Jesse, and Willie. But all three of ’em offer themselves to us on a regular basis for feeding and sex.” His brow furrowed in a worried frown. “Jesse was with me, and Terrance found the bodies. Willie was at his post by the door all night until the club emptied.”

  Terrance was the owner of The Starlight and had been a friend to the vampires for years. Jesse was Digger’s favorite flavor, and the human spent as much time at their house as Digger did, it seemed. He was a good man. Willie preferred the female vamps. He had an eye for the older ones, too.

  “Shit.”

  Digger nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly what this is, mate. A giant heap of shite.”

  “May I have a word with you two?”

  He and Digger looked up to see Gaston standing at the end of the aisle. They both nodded. Out of sheer courtesy, when Gaston summoned, no vampire denied him.

  “My house, tomorrow after dark. Can you both meet me there?”

  They nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ll be there,” Dante replied.

  “Thank you.” Gaston moved on.

  “What do ya think that’s about?”

  Dante shook his head. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

  They stood up to leave. Dante had a sneaking suspicion that Gaston wanted the two of them on the hunt should the killer be identified. Not many vampires had marked kills to their names, but both he and Digger did. Dante had taken out VanBueren three centuries earlier, and Digger had been with the group who located and dispatched the humans in 1910 who had slaughtered thirty of their sect.