Then she heard the faint whistling on the wind. Coming from above—first to the right then to the left, as if he jumped from one building to another. Soon the strains of the Mocking Bird lullaby came closer and louder. It was the same tune she’d heard at the conference party, the same one he’d hummed as he murdered her mother, and this time she knew she wasn’t imagining things.
“Dante…” she croaked, her voice deserting her. She swallowed and called into the early morning darkness. “Dante, I know you’re there. Stop these games. Come out and face me.”
“Well now, little one.” He mocked from the shadows to her right. “Aren’t you brave?” Now he was behind her.
“They tell me you’re dead,” she said.
His icy voice rumbled with what could have been a chuckle. “I know. Delicious isn’t it?” The direction changed constantly as if he circled her. “And your father was my murderer. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
Terror froze her heartbeat. Her feet wouldn’t move. He moved, quick and silent. She felt his breath in her hair for an instant then it was gone, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it. A chill crept up her legs.
“How did you escape the warehouse fire?” she asked.
His laughter crackled all around, surrounding her. Suddenly he was there, standing before her, wrapped in a dark gray cloak that hid everything except his face. When he smiled she saw his fangs extended and ready.
“Now, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” he said. “But let’s just say that I was fortunate the warehouse was over water and I had a friend willing to help me out with a little push. I did give him a hand, or should I say finger?”
“So whose body did fall from the window?”
“Some poor unfortunate newly turned Aeternus in the right place at the wrong time.”
“Now you’re here, tormenting me,” she whispered. “Why?”
“We have unfinished business, you and I. Your mother may have been the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted,” he said, his tone dripping with honeyed sarcasm. “But you were even sweeter standing there in your nightgown, your dolly under your arm, your eyes big and round. I just wanted to eat you up. And now you are here, looking so much like your mother. The others are just pale imitations.”
“The fang-whores.” Her hands shook, a chill crept up her backbone. She’d been right.
“Ah yes.” His face softened to a misty expression. “Their screams are songs to my ears. I wanted to make your mother scream. I want to make you scream.” He focused on her. “Oh yes, I will make you sing for me.” His eyes grew bright and piercing, burning her with their heat.
“No, I won’t,” she said, clenching her fists to stem the fear pumping through her. “I’m going to stop you.”
“How, little one? How will you do that?” He smiled that same deadly smile he had on the night he drew the blade across her mother’s creamy skin.
“I don’t know yet, but I will.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.
“And what if I stop you first?” he asked.
She opened her mouth to answer him, but nothing came out.
“How can you stop me? You’re just a human girl. Can you stop me from doing this?” Suddenly he was pinning her arms behind her back. She hadn’t even seen him move. “Tell me, has Christian tasted your delights?” he whispered in her ear.
How did he do it? He’d turned her into a helpless child again as he leaned closer, his breath crawling over her skin as he sniffed at her neck. “What a woman you are. You make me so hot. Can you feel it?”
She could, pressed against her ass. Her stomach heaved.
“You’re mine, little-one, all mine. And I will devour you.” He drew closer to her throat—her skin feeling soiled where he touched. “But not tonight, not yet.”
It wasn’t until she’d fallen back a step that she realized he’d released her. She ran.
“Stop.” His voice commanded before she took more than a few steps.
She did, her feet rooted to the ground as if glued.
“Turn.”
And she did.
“Look at me.”
Try as she might she couldn’t stop her eyes from gravitating toward him.
A loud snarl came from her left. Cerberus stood in the street; hackles raised, teeth bared, and menace rumbling in his chest.
“Well now,” Dante chuckled. “This has to be one of Viktor’s pups.”
The dog crept forward a step, his head low to the ground. The lips of his muzzle peeled back to reveal long, sharp canines and his gaze fixed firmly on Dante.
Dante waved his hand and Cerberus was lifted off his feet and thrown through the air, landing several feet away. The impact pushed the air from the dog’s lungs in a loud whoosh.
Antoinette froze. She’d never seen anything like it before. No Aeternus or dreniac she’d ever heard of possessed telekinetic powers. This was something new.
The injured animal whimpered and she ran to his side as he struggled to his feet, wrapping her arm around his neck. Dante would tear him to pieces in the blink of an eye if Cerberus tried to attack again.
Cerberus’s growl deepened and he snapped, saliva dripping from his lower jaw. Antoinette felt his tension thrumming against her chest as his body shook with rage.
“Well.” Dante made a flourishing bow. “Another time, little-one.” With an overdramatic swirl of his cape he was gone.
Antoinette would’ve laughed if the fear hadn’t stolen her humor. She rubbed Cerberus’s thick fur, burying her face in it as she caught her breath.
“Thank you, my guardian angel.” She scratched behind his ears and hugged him close once more. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Cerberus followed close behind, occasionally stopping to look back and growl. She reached the alley between the houses and moved to the drainpipe. After one final rub and a kiss to the top of his head, Cerberus stood in silent sentry as Antoinette climbed back up the drainpipe. When she reached the window he descended the side stairs and entered through the pet door as she pulled herself onto the windowsill. She should’ve left a lamp on—the room was too dark to see.
Suddenly she was yanked into the room and a rough hand snapped over her mouth. She was shoved onto the bed, pinned with the weight of a body on top of her. Only an Aeternus had that kind of strength. Her heart hammered against her chest. Dante had come to take her after all. He’d fooled her, and when she thought she was safe, he’d come. She tried to scream but the hand muffled the sound and a breath brushed her ear. She tensed, closed her eyes, and waited for the teeth against her throat.
18
Caught in the Act
“Where have you been?” Christian’s voice tight was with suppressed anger as she lay beneath him. “I told you to stay here. Don’t you know how dangerous it is out there right now?”
Her eyes flung open, relief blooming in their depths. Not the emotion he’d expected. Then he smelled the fear soaked into her pores. Her reaction had been a little too violent. Something had happened out there.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
His hand muffled her words and she struggled beneath him again but with nowhere near the violence as before. A frown creased her brow as she tried to move her head. With her human eyes she wouldn’t be able to see him in the darkened room, though he could see every detail, every grimace, and every frown.
He removed his hand but her body still trembled beneath his.
“Do you mind getting off me now?” she asked impatiently.
“Apparently I do,” he sighed against her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair.
Her fear was intoxicating and the touch of her breath against his cheek did little to alleviate his excited state. His fangs descended, long and sharp.
No, not now. He pushed away, the cold air rushed between them.
“Where did you go tonight?” he demanded.
Antoinette reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. Christian t
urned away from the brilliance.
“To see Lucian.”
“Are you insane? Why didn’t you wait for me or…or Viktor to go with you?” He turned around to see her thunderous face.
“You had no right telling your butler to keep me locked in the house like a prisoner. I’ve been a fully licensed Venator for several years now. I don’t need you, Viktor, or your servant to look after me.”
She was right of course—under normal circumstances. But these were far from normal circumstances. Why couldn’t she see that? And why should he care?
“Look, we don’t know what is going on or why Sir Roger was murdered. Until we can make some sense of this I don’t think it’s safe—”
“I don’t care, I do not need a babysitter, and I won’t tolerate being kept prisoner.”
“We just need to know where you are in case—” Christian stopped.
“In case the killer tries for me and you’re not there to catch him.” Antoinette finished for him. “I’m not stupid.”
“We were going to talk to you about it, in fact it’s why I came to your room tonight, and then found it empty.”
She crossed her arms and looked away.
She’d given in far too easily; he’d expected more of an argument. “So you’ll be more careful?”
“Of course.”
“That may not be necessary,” Viktor’s voice called from the doorway.
They both turned to find him with Cerberus by his side. The dog went straight to Antoinette and licked her hand. Viktor cocked his head to the side and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m glad you’re both here,” he said, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “I’ve found him.”
“Who?” Antoinette asked.
Christian took a step forward. “Grigore’s contact—you’ve found him?”
Viktor nodded, grinning widely. “It’s Williams. He’s been right under our noses the whole time. And what’s more, he’s agreed to meet me at the same location we’d arranged with Grigore.”
“Andrew Williams? The Ambassador’s assistant?” Christian asked.
“Yes, that’s the one.” Viktor’s eyes danced with excitement.
It was hard to believe someone that close to the Ambassador would actually associate with a fugitive. “How did he get involved with Grigore?” Christian asked.
Viktor straightened and came completely into the room. “Apparently they went to the Academy of Parahuman Studies in Budapest together.
“So, what now?” Antoinette asked as she stroked Cerberus’s head.
“He wants to meet—after sunset tonight.”
“This seems far too convenient,” Christian said. “I’m coming with you.”
Viktor shook his head. “I have to meet him alone. That was part of the deal.”
“Last time you were supposed to meet, he never showed and Grigore disappeared,” Christian said. “How do we know this Williams guy didn’t sell Grigore out? It smells like a setup.”
“I agree with Christian,” Antoinette said, surprising them both.
“All right, but he can’t see you,” Viktor conceded.
“The meeting place is at a club, right? He wouldn’t see us if we were just some other customers sitting separately,” Antoinette suggested.
“Now, wait a minute.” Christian stepped between her and Viktor. “You can’t come.”
“And why not? Haven’t we just had this discussion?” She lifted her chin.
“She’s right, Christian.” Viktor came to her defense. “And if you looked like a couple on a date, it would be the perfect cover.”
“What?” Antoinette and Christian chorused together.
“No way,” Christian said. The thought of being that close to her, like on a date—he could barely keep his hands off her as it was.
“Why not?” Antoinette scowled and shoved her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Come on, Christian, it’s undercover—you know, your job. You do remember how to do that, don’t you?” Viktor said, his grin getting wider.
Christian ran his hand through his hair and ignored his friend’s jibe. “Okay—but we’ll have to come up with a good plan.”
Finally a breakthrough, a real one. The thrill of the hunt sparked in his veins. “So did he say anything about what happened last time?”
“We didn’t really have much time to talk, but he did say it was Grigore who called off the last meeting.”
“And you believe him?” Antoinette asked. “Wouldn’t Papa have contacted you as well if that was the case?”
Viktor frowned and placed his hands behind his back, pacing while his mind worked. Antoinette could almost hear the cogs turning.
He stopped and looked at her. “At this point, I don’t know what to believe. I was deep undercover on another case and Grigore was keeping contact to a minimum at that point. All I know is it would have taken something extremely important for him to risk breaking comms silence.”
“But we still don’t know what this Williams guy has to do with my father,” she said.
“Look, he’s the only link we have. One way or another Williams knows something, and I aim to find out what it is.”
After Viktor and Christian left, Antoinette leaned against the door and closed her eyes. She’d had a hard time trying to keep it together while they were here but luckily she’d pulled it off. Now that she was alone she let her knees give out and slid to the floor, brushing a shaky hand over her face.
There was no denying it this time. It was definitely Dante and he was definitely real. And he was also the Fang-whore Slasher.
Cerberus licked her ear and she ruffled his fur before hugging him close. “You saw him too, didn’t you, boy? You know I wasn’t hallucinating?”
The dog tilted his head at her again, pricked his ears, then looked toward the window and growled, although not with any real menace. She rubbed his fur. “Do you want to stay and keep me company tonight, boy?”
The dog yapped and jumped onto the end of the bed. He circled around and kneaded a comfortable spot then lay down with his head on his paws, cocking one doggy eyebrow at her. Antoinette got up from the floor and joined him on the bed. She gave him a quick pat on the head then stood to undress before crawling beneath the blankets.
As she lay back against the pillows she thought of Christian. When she’d realized it was him in her room and not Dante, she went straight from terror to temptation. The weight of his body on hers made her want to wrap her legs around his waist as he buried himself in her. Dante and Christian were both a danger to her—they made her lose control in different ways: one through fear and the other through desire.
She was going to have to learn to protect her emotions if she was to survive either of them.
The crowded smoke-filled club hummed with dance music and loud conversation. Antoinette sipped her cocktail through a straw. Christian said it was a Virgin Mary, Viktor’s idea of a joke. Normally she wasn’t partial to tomato juice but she found herself enjoying the Tabasco kick.
Even though Antoinette’s drink was alcohol-free her head still spun thanks to secondhand smoke from the joints being passed around in the next booth.
“Come on, you two,” Viktor’s voice buzzed through the electronic receiver in her ear. “At least try and look like you’re having a good time. You’re supposed to be on a date.”
“You’ve obviously never seen any of my dates,” Antoinette whispered, glancing down at her overexposed cleavage for the hundredth time to make sure the small microphone hadn’t popped into view, or anything else for that matter. She looked up and caught Christian staring in the same direction.
“Hey!” She clicked her fingers in front of her face. “I’m up here.”
Christian’s smoldering eyes dragged up to her face and a slow smile tilted his mouth. “I can’t help it, they’re just so…there.” Again his gaze dropped to her chest.
Part of her was insulted and the rest was pleased. She crossed her arms, which only ma
de things worse. Her breasts squeezed together and pushed out even more. As Christian leaned forward the hunger in his expression increasing, she resisted the urge to pull on her coat.
“What time is he supposed to arrive again, Viktor?” she asked, trying to distract herself.
They all wore the tiny electronic receivers in their ears and mikes tucked inconspicuously away. The noisy crowd and the music made it too difficult for Christian and Viktor to rely on their enhanced senses alone.
Out of the corner of her eye Antoinette saw Viktor pick up his glass and hold it near his mouth as if drinking. “Half an hour ago. Maybe he’s been detained.”
She didn’t know who he was trying to convince more, himself or them.
“Do you really think he’s going to show now?” she asked.
“Give it a little more time,” Viktor responded.
A blond hooker sidled up to Viktor, placing her hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. He turned toward her, interest apparent on his face even from this distance. He reluctantly shook his head and turned back to his drink. The blonde moved on to the next potential customer.
After a couple of mocktails Antoinette couldn’t fight the urge to use the bathroom any longer and stood.
Christian reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Where are you going?”
“To freshen up,” she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “I don’t have your…constitution.”
“Sorry.” He released her.
With a hitch of her hip she teetered on the leg-breakingly high heels that completed her skanky disguise.
Christian tilted his head to watch her walk away, admiring the way those stilettos set a waggle in her stride. A minuscule strip of leather only just covered the swell of her buttocks, showing those never-ending legs to full advantage. It rode low enough on her hips to show the dragon tattoo nestled between the twin dimples—all except for the tip of the tail.
She had topped off the disguise with a plunging black halter-neck top. Her loose hair swayed against her almost naked back in time with the movement of her hips. God, he loved to watch her walk away.
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