Christian had never been into sleaze but a sudden image of taking her hard against the wall of the dingy hall leading to the bathrooms, her legs wrapped around his waist, had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
When Antoinette returned she stood next to the table with her hands on her hips. “All this sitting around is making me kinda antsy. Let’s dance.”
Crap. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I’m dancing, with or without you.”
She slipped off her shoes and made her way barefoot onto the crowded dance floor, turned, and locked eyes with him.
Raising both hands above her head she began to move her hips and only her hips. She turned her back to him and lifted her hair to expose the creamy curve of her neck while her hips continued to undulate—her spine curving and curling in time to the beat.
She had complete control over every muscle, every movement of her body. His erection swelled painfully and twitched with each roll and jerk of her luscious curves. The leather pants he had on suddenly seemed several sizes too small.
“You go girl.” Viktor’s voice pierced Christian’s captivation.
“Want to join me, Viktor?” she asked. “Christian isn’t in the mood.”
Oh, I’m definitely in the mood—just not for dancing.
“Tempting, very tempting,” Viktor answered. “But I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now.”
Antoinette was soon surrounded by a half dozen men all vying for her attention. However, she seemed lost to the music and paid little attention to her wannabe partners as she twisted and turned, rolling her hips with her stomach rippling like a slow hypnotic wave.
“Oh my…where did you learn moves like that?” Viktor asked her what Christian was thinking.
“My aunt Katerina taught all the girls in the family belly dancing. She said girls should at least learn something of the old ways, other than hunting.” Antoinette whispered as a guy grabbed her from behind, grinding his groin against her.
Christian leapt out of the chair ready to rip the offender’s arms off. But he needn’t have bothered. In a blur of movement she brought her elbow around to connect with the would-be lothario’s chin. If not for the smug tilt to her mouth, Christian could almost have believed it was accidental.
However, as one fell off, another took his place. A growl built in Christian’s chest, but he forced himself to sit and endure it. Antoinette could take care of herself. She wouldn’t be impressed with him wading in to pull her out from the middle of the pack of lusty human males. No matter how much his instincts were screaming at him to do just that.
“Okay, boys and girls—I think it’s time to track down that son of a bitch and use a more forceful method of persuasion,” Viktor said.
“Finally!” Antoinette’s voice husked through his earpiece.
Christian glanced across to the bar and silently thanked Viktor for putting him out of his misery. Antoinette untangled herself from the crowd and made her way back to the table much to the disappointment of her now-considerable group of admirers.
“So where does he live?” Antoinette asked as she slipped on her shoes.
“I know it’s somewhere in Manhattan—Madison Avenue I think. I’ll call to dig up his address. You two get going and I’ll text his location as soon as I know,” Viktor said. “That’ll still give us three hours before dawn. Let’s hope he’s just tardy and not something worse.”
“Right, we’ll head to the Upper East Side. Call when you’ve got something,” Christian said.
Antoinette slung a tacky beaded bag over her shoulder and led the way to the exit. Just before the door, he glanced back at Viktor, who threw down the last of the drink and placed the empty glass back on the bar.
They stepped out into the night air, Antoinette shivered and rubbed her bare upper arms. Christian took of his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She surprised him with a smile and pushed her arms into the sleeves.
As they crossed the parking lot Christian’s internal alarm bells began to clang. He glanced over his shoulder, but the darkened lot was deserted.
Still, something felt very wrong. It’d be better to get Antoinette out of here before anything went down.
The doors to the club opened and Viktor stepped through, pulling his keys from the pocket of his jeans.
Christian fumbled in his own pants pockets for the keys to the Ford sedan before remembering he’d left them in his jacket.
He was reaching for Antoinette’s elbow when the distinctive sound of a silencer-muffled shot came out of nowhere. He pushed her to the pavement, covering her body with his.
When he was sure no more shots were coming Christian rolled to his feet. “Are you all right?”
She gave a stunned nod. Christian reached down and helped her to her feet. “We should get you out of here before they try again.”
A somber canine howl filled the night sky and Antoinette looked past his shoulder, her face draining completely of color.
“Viktor,” she screamed.
19
On a Wing and a Prayer
Terror gripped Antoinette’s heart and squeezed hard. Viktor stumbled again and leaned against the old pickup he’d driven. Christian reached Viktor’s side before she had a chance to take the first running step. He’d kneeled over her for a second before disappearing: there in one blink of an eye and gone the next.
With her heart pounding in her ears she reached the fallen Aeternus and fell to her knees beside him. He met her with his typical cheeky grin, but his amber eyes held pale terror. Dark blood blossomed on the front of his shirt; he held his hand over the wound.
Christian reappeared and knelt again, taking his friend’s head into his lap. He looked Antoinette in the eye. “No sign of the shooter,” he mouthed.
“You don’t have to whisper on my account,” Viktor said and then stiffened, sucking back a large painful-sounding breath.
“Come, my old friend, you’ve been shot before.” Christian’s voice quavered. “We’ll get that bullet out and you’ll be as right as rain. Let’s have a look.”
He gently moved Viktor’s hand aside to rip the fabric. Christian’s eyes grew wide and he sucked back his breath. A cold chill crept up Antoinette’s spine. The actual bullet hole was small and relatively clean, but that wasn’t what worried her. His veins had turned black around the wound, and the blackness spread like the tendrils of an evil spider web, growing longer as they watched.
“Oh dear God,” she whispered. “Silver nitrate.”
“I know.” Viktor turned his head toward her. “I can feel it traveling through my bloodstream.”
Antoinette crouched beside him, taking his hand in hers as tears flooded her vision.
“We have to get you to a clinic.” Christian’s voice cracked but Viktor shook his head.
“It’s pure, Christian,” Viktor whispered. “I’m already dead.”
“No!” Christian shook his head and gathered Viktor under his arms to lift him.
“Christian, don’t,” he pleaded. “It will only speed up what little time I have left. I have some things to say to you…” He looked at Antoinette. “To both of you.”
“Why?” she croaked, tears creating wet trails down her cheeks.
Viktor’s face relaxed a little. “I guess we’re getting too close. That’s good news.”
With a loud shattering sound, Cerberus jumped through the car window, raining glass down on them. The large malamute came up beside Antoinette to place his muzzle on his master’s hand and whimpered. Blood streaked his black and white fur where he’d been lacerated by the broken glass.
Viktor grabbed the front of Christian’s shirt. “You must find out what happened to Andrew…if he’s not a part of this, he may be in danger too. He may already be dead.”
He then looked at Antoinette, his eyes going soft as he squeezed her hand. A sob exploded from her, hurting her chest and head. He glanced at his faithful dog. “Take care of him for me, my Mandy-Su
e.”
Antoinette smiled through her tears and nodded. “Anything, my Sammy—” She couldn’t complete the words, her head hurt with the tears she couldn’t shed fast enough.
Viktor took back his hand and stroked Cerberus’s head one last time as the silver nitrate poison turned the veins in his neck black. The dog whimpered again.
“No, this can’t be happening.” Christian shook his head, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles corded in his neck. “I won’t let it.”
“Even you can’t stop this.” Viktor smiled wanly up at his friend. “Take care of Valerica. I haven’t been a very good brother of late—I know she can be a handful, but…you know she’s going to take this hard.”
“I promise,” Christian said in choking syllables.
Antoinette held Viktor’s hand against her lips. “Thank you for looking after my father.” Fat tears dropped onto his bare chest; she wanted to wipe them away but she couldn’t let go of his hand. “And me.”
“Oh, ma chère, it was my pleasure.” Viktor gave her a weak wink. “When you find him, tell him he was the best human I’ve ever known, and I loved him.”
Antoinette nodded, the physical pain in her chest became almost unbearable. Her gaze locked briefly with Christian.
Grief dulled Christian’s eyes and a kind of insane calmness crept over him. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him, but he was frozen by his own emotions.
Viktor’s body jerked, spine stiffening and his head snapped back. He screamed as the poison reached his brain. Silvery black invaded his usually bright amber eyes and took away the last of his life.
Antoinette’s heart shattered and a sob tore from her throat. He was gone. Cerberus nudged his master’s leg, then threw back his head with a long mournful howl. Christian joined him with his own primal cry of grief and rage.
Viktor’s hand slipped from hers and she dried the tears on her cheeks. This couldn’t be happening, not Viktor. But it had happened and now he was dead. Murdered. Christian squatted beside his body, then within seconds he was gone.
She bit back her sorrow and pulled out her cell to dial 911. “I want to report a murder of an Aeternus male.”
She gave them the details and the address and hung up. Now she could let her grief hit. And it did—big time. A spasm ripped through her stomach, but she was able to make it to the shadows on the other side of Viktor’s car before she threw up.
A police cruiser pulled up as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Two cops got out of the car and approached Viktor’s body.
Cerberus didn’t even look at them but a warning rumbled from his chest, stopping the policemen in their tracks. The cops exchanged wary looks and their hands move to unclip their gun holsters.
“Please,” she said, putting herself between them and the dog.
They stopped and looked her. When she explained the situation, they were more than happy to wait for backup to arrive. One of the cops climbed back into the car to call it in as the other moved to control the crowd building as curious patrons piled out of the club.
Twenty minutes later a large black SWAT-like mobile command center pulled into the parking lot and reversed close to the scene. Several people got out and started taking over the crime scene.
Paramedics pulled up beside the black van. One of the policemen led her over to the back of the ambulance and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, looking into his kind brown eyes.
“Not a problem, you just sit here and wait until one of the detectives is free to talk to you,” he said and then moved off to help with crowd control.
Oberon pulled up on his Harley-Davidson motorcycle. What was he doing here?
He swung his long leather-clad leg off the sleek black customized Heritage Softail and ate up the ground in long strides as he approached Viktor’s body. Again, Antoinette found his sheer mass intimidating.
Cerberus bared his teeth but Oberon squatted down to his level and spoke softly. She couldn’t make out any of the words. Slowly the dog’s face relaxed and reluctantly left Viktor’s side. Oberon led him away, allowing the police access to photograph the body.
Oberon brought the dog to her. Cerberus looked warily back from her to the forensic people a couple of times before coming around to lean against Antoinette’s side. It was like he needed her as much as she needed him right now.
This was the second murder she’d witnessed within the last week. Even though she dealt with death before, she was usually the one doing the dealing.
Oberon looked at Antoinette—pale and drawn, huddled under a blanket at the back of the ambulance with the large malamute’s head in her lap. One of the paramedics offered a thermos cup of coffee, and she smiled gratefully and wrapped both shaking hands around it.
She seemed far from the self-assured woman he’d encountered last time. Every time she looked toward the body her face filled with naked, desolate grief. And each time she got that look the dog whimpered in sympathy. It was unusual for a human to have that kind of connection with an animal, let alone one that wasn’t even hers.
He’d been in the area checking the hooker hangouts for any more missing girls when his partner, Dylan, called him with the news of Viktor’s murder. They worked as a team, Dylan listened to the police scanners and Oberon patrolled.
He’d only meant to take a look. Viktor’s dog lifted his head and regarded Oberon with huge pale blue eyes. Antoinette looked at him as well, while she continued stroking the dog.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, shook her head, then took a deep breath and nodded again. “Yes, thank you.”
“Okay.” The girl was a mess. “So, where’s Christian?”
She took a second to steel herself before answering. “I don’t know—he just vanished, probably on the killer’s trail.”
Oberon may be an unfeeling bastard at times, but he knew what it was like to lose a partner and a friend. He felt sorry for the blood-drinker.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and shook one out. “What were you all doing here tonight?”
He sucked the tobacco smoke into his lungs. Ah—that hit the spot. He blew out the smoke and refilled them with a fresh batch of nicotine and poison. Thanks to the parahuman constitution he didn’t have to worry about lung cancer like those poor human saps.
“He just left you here—don’t you think that strange?”
“No. When Viktor die—” She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes darting, filling with tears.
Oberon didn’t know who was more surprised by her tears, him or Antoinette. He glanced around looking for someone else to deal with her but everyone was busy. He’d never been good with crying females.
When he’d had her in for questioning she hadn’t shed a tear. Instead she’d been good and mad, not close to hysterics as she was now. Good and mad, that I can handle. And he knew just what buttons to push too.
“Suck it up, it’s not like you were sleeping with the blood-drinker—”
Something slammed into his mouth, bursting his lip against his teeth, and he hadn’t even seen her get up. The coppery taste filled his mouth and he turned his head to spit the bloody saliva.
“Have some respect, I just lost my friend.” She glared at him, shaking out her wrist. The dog now stood beside her, hackles raised and growling in warning. The tears stopped as suddenly as they’d started, and she dried her eyes on the corner of the blanket.
“Sorry,” she said. “But you asked for that.”
Oberon shrugged and wiped his mouth. “I guess I did.” For such a little thing, she packed a pretty fantastic punch.
“I don’t know where Christian went or why, I assumed he would be after the killer. Wouldn’t you be if you were in his place?” she said.
He guessed she was right.
She tilted her head to one side. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
“I don’t have a personal opinion of you one way or another,” he r
eplied, taking the last drag and squashing out the butt with his boot. “I don’t trust you because you lied to me.”
Her brows furrowed. “When?”
“The other night—during questioning.”
Her eyes flicked away, the same as they had the other night. “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Just passing by when I heard it on the scanner.”
His cell rang. Dylan’s number flashed up on the screen. “Yes?”
“Another girl taken close to where you are now. Same profile, except she’s money, not a fang-whore, so the VCU aren’t mobilizing.”
“Where exactly?”
20
The Scene
“The girl was abducted in the Red Hook area a few minutes ago.” The disembodied voice came through the cell phone loud enough for Antoinette to overhear. “She was roughing it down there with some friends; this could be him.”
“I’m five minutes away, how long will it take you to get there?” Oberon turned and started to walk away.
But Antoinette had heard enough. Dante had taken another victim and Oberon knew where. She reached into her pocket and found Christian’s keys.
“Come, boy,” she said to Cerberus.
The car was outside the area cordoned off by the police. They were all too busy to notice her leave.
She let Cerberus jump in first. He immediately climbed into the passenger seat and sat, almost like he was just as anxious to get going as she was.
Antoinette turned the key in the ignition and waited for Oberon to climb on his motorcycle and start it.
As he pulled away, she followed close enough not to lose him but not so close as to attract his attention.
He led her through the city streets down toward the waterfront. The other victims had been found floating in and around the Red Hook area.
It was him. Fear and excitement warred in her gut for dominance. She would have the advantage this time; she was hunting him and not the other way around.
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