Quinn

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Quinn Page 10

by D. B. Reynolds


  She directed him to a small, crowded pub on a side street that he hadn’t even known existed. He and Garrick really should get to know the ins and outs of Howth. They’d be moving to Dublin very soon, but he’d have people staying in Howth to oversee the smuggling operation. It couldn’t hurt for him to know the town better.

  “Where do I park?” he asked her. The streets in this area were old and narrow, and he didn’t see any signs.

  “Park in front of any of the closed storefronts. There’s no one to mind, and by the time they’re ready to open, we’ll be long gone.”

  Quinn figured she knew the customs, and police patrols, better than he did. And now that they were closer to the pub, he saw more than one vehicle doing exactly what Eve had suggested. He found an empty spot a block down and around a corner. Turning off the engine, he slid out from behind the wheel, then headed around the front of the SUV to help Eve out. But she jumped down before he could get there.

  “You’ll break an ankle doing that in those heels.”

  She grinned up at him. “They look good, though, don’t they?”

  He met her dark eyes and said with deliberate intent, “Very good.” He was close enough to see her blush when she registered the double meaning in his words, hearing the compliment on more than just her shoes. Between the very short skirt and very high heels, she was showing off plenty of pale skin and silky smooth legs. It made him want to spread her out and sink his fangs into her thigh, while his fingers slid into the heat of her pussy, so he could feel the contractions of her body when his bite hit her nervous system. He’d fuck her after that, forcing his cock into her tight, tight body, feeling her resistance soften until she was moaning his name.

  Quinn stopped himself from going any further with his fantasy. His cock was already hard and heavy, pushing at the thick fabric of his jeans almost painfully. And the more he thought about her firm thighs and luscious pussy, the more he wanted to throw caution to the wind and simply fuck her.

  He reeled it in when they walked into the bar, especially when he realized there were vampires inside. Not everyone was one, not even most. This wasn’t a blood house. But there were enough vampires that he knew this was a regular drinking spot for them. He stayed close to Eve, resting on a possessive hand on her lower back, just enough to make his claim clear to the other vamps, but not enough to provoke a response from his prickly redhead.

  But because these were vampires who didn’t know him, he also had to shut down every vamp who thought to challenge him, meeting their glares and giving them the smallest taste of his power. Whether they knew it or not, this was his sector now. Sorley had made it official, but it was his personal power that would make it work. Vampires led from strength, not nepotism or bureaucratic maneuvering. Every vampire he met in this new territory would test his power in one way or another. Most would be subtle, like those in this pub. They’d touch their power to his and immediately look away, acknowledging his superior strength and, thereby, his authority. A very few tried to hold his stare, but they, too, surrendered when his eyes went cold and his power grazed their hearts. Quinn made note of those, knowing he’d have to watch his back over the next few days and weeks. But first, he had a sexy woman to charm.

  Eve grabbed a vacant bar stool and climbed up, smiling when she caught him looking. Quinn shrugged. He was a leg man, always had been. Sure, the neck had its advantages for a vampire, especially when you were buried deep in a woman’s body. But nothing beat sinking fang into the femoral artery of a tender thigh. He remained standing while Eve swung her legs demurely beneath the bar. Right. Now, she was a delicate maiden. An hour ago, she’d been hustling vampires to kill.

  Quinn boxed her in with one arm on the back of her stool, the other on the bar. He leaned closer, drawn by the delicate trace of her perfume, and underneath it, the delicious scent of warm blood. He wanted to lick her neck, to feel the rush of blood through her veins while her heart raced at his touch. He was hungry, he realized abruptly. Probably too hungry to be toying with Eve, especially since she didn’t yet know he was a vampire. But while her blood was temptation itself, he was no ordinary vampire, not a slave to his body’s desires. He was a vampire lord, with the power and discipline to do whatever it took to protect his people. Maintaining a mask of humanity tested his lust more than his strength. He wanted Eve Connelly, but he needed to know why she was killing his kind, and, especially, if someone had put her up to it. Needed to know if there were other hunters like her stalking Irish vampires, or training to do so. Until then, as far as Eve was concerned, he had to be just another human hustling a beautiful woman.

  He drew the attention of the bartender and ordered a couple of pints, his with a side shot of Irish whiskey. Drunk straight up, he preferred scotch whiskey, but the lighter Irish sweetened a pint of ale nicely.

  He raised his mug in Eve’s direction. “To Dublin,” he said, wanting to get her talking. She was so set on warning him away from Sorley and from vampires in general. He wanted to know why. He’d have to come up with a permanent solution for her eventually. She’d either have to stop hunting on her own, or he’d have to use his power to persuade her. He couldn’t have a vampire vigilante roaming his new territory. But there was no reason he couldn’t enjoy the time he spent squeezing information out of her. He didn’t fool himself into thinking his interest was purely business, however. He was curious about her personally. Not only because she was sexy as hell, but because she’d somehow found the courage and the strength to take on much bigger vampires and come out on top. Yeah, it bothered him that she was killing his people, but it was remarkable that she hadn’t been fucked the first time she’d tried. Literally fucked and sucked dry.

  The woman and the hunter both intrigued him, and he couldn’t have said which one captivated him more.

  “So,” he said quietly, his mouth against her ear in the noisy pub. “Vampires, huh?”

  His lips warmed against her skin, and she moved away, before turning back to him with a defiant glare.

  “They’re real, and your friend Sorley is the head of them in Ireland.”

  “Softly, Eve,” he cautioned, aware of the vampire ears listening. “How do you know so much about vampires?”

  “Because I’ve seen them kill,” she snarled, suddenly all flashing eyes and fury.

  Quinn was intrigued by the raw emotion of her reaction. This wasn’t a job for her, it was personal. But just in case, he asked, “Are you a reporter looking to break the big story?”

  “Hardly,” she snorted and took a sip of her ale.

  “Well, you’re obviously not a fan, so why hang around Sorley’s place then? Why put yourself at risk like that?”

  She was silent for a long moment, staring down at her finger rubbing away the wet circle left on the bar by her glass, and he thought she wasn’t going to answer. But then she said so softly that he could barely hear, “Vampires killed someone I loved.”

  He studied her bent head. She still hadn’t looked up. “Someone?” he asked leadingly.

  She bit the inside of her lip, then glanced up at him and back down. “My brother, Alan.”

  “How do you know—” he asked, but she interrupted angrily.

  “I saw them, all right? Two of them. I was meeting Alan down near the port in Dublin and . . . I saw them,” she finished, almost wearily, as if she’d used up all of her anger.

  Shit. No wonder she hated vampires. Quinn moved in closer, kiss­ing the top of her head and resting his cheek there briefly, while drop­ping his arm from the bar stool to her back. “I’m sorry that happened, Eve. I’m even sorrier you had to see it.”

  She was quiet for a minute, then straightened abruptly, shoving off his arm to swing around to stare at him, her eyes wide in sudden sus­picion. “Damn. You already know about Sorley, don’t you? Here I was, all worried about you getting in deeper than you knew, but you’ve
known all along what he was.” Her mug slammed onto the bar top. “And you’re doing business with him anyway,” she said, her voice getting louder. “Why?”

  Quinn held up a hand, once again urging her to remain quiet. There were too many vampires in this bar, and the fact that she didn’t seem to recognize their presence made him wonder even more how she’d managed to stay alive. “Softly, lass,” he murmured. “If what you say is true, you might not want to advertise your intentions.” As long as he was with her, she was safe. No one but Sorley himself would dare challenge him by harming a woman he’d claimed publically. But he couldn’t be with her all the time, and, besides, he hadn’t truly claimed her. Yet.

  She glared at him, but lowered her voice to an angry whisper. “Answer the question, then. Why do business with a bloody vampire?”

  He shrugged. “You said it yourself. He’s a big man in Ireland, and he controls far more than just vampires. Or maybe I should say vampires control altogether more than you think. There are certain . . . transactions in this country that go more smoothly if they’re involved.”

  “Oh, right. You’re a lawyer. You’re used to working with scum.”

  “I think you’ve definitely been watching too many American movies.”

  “Not when you’re sitting there defending doing business with vampires.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you one of them?”

  He laughed. “I’d hardly tell you if I was. You’d pull that pretty knife you’ve got hiding between your thighs and murder me in my sleep.”

  Her eyes narrowed in irritation, probably wondering how he’d known where she’d hidden the knife. “Who said anything about sleep­ing?”

  He met her eyes bluntly. “I did,” he said, then grinned. “I’m a strong man, Eve, but even I can’t keep it up all night long.”

  She sucked in a scowling breath, but didn’t pull away when he bent his head to kiss her. Her lips were full and soft, and pressed determinedly together, her mouth closed. Quinn chuckled and kissed her again, teasing that firm mouth with feathering kisses, his tongue barely touching as he outlined the seam of her lips. His arm tightened around her back, his hand pressing her closer until he could feel the warm weight of her breast against his side.

  He trailed a row of nibbling kisses over her soft cheek to her ear. “Kiss me, Eve,” he whispered, and then followed the curve of her jaw back to her mouth. She shivered as her chin lifted and her lips opened on a tremulous sigh. Quinn slid his tongue into her warm mouth, hearing her soft moan of pleasure when her tongue wrapped around his.

  Sparks flew. Quinn had never felt anything like it. He hungered for this woman. Not for her blood, although he knew it would be delectable. But for her body. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to possess her in a way that she’d never forget. Wanted every man who came after him to pale in comparison.

  “Eve,” he growled.

  “Yes.” She grabbed his hand and slipped off the bar stool. He barely managed to leave some money for the drinks, before she tugged him through the crowd and back onto the street. “Leave the car where it is. The shops are closed on Sunday.”

  Quinn blinked. He hadn’t been keeping much track of the days. It didn’t matter what day tomorrow was, anyway, because he’d be long gone before sunrise. But she didn’t need to know that.

  “Is your flat close?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know exactly where they were. He’d studied the maps before coming to Ireland, and he’d studied them in even more detail since he’d been here. He’d also possessed an innate sense of direction, and always knew where he was relative to where he wanted to be. Which, in the immediate case, was in Eve’s bed.

  “Just around the block,” she said, then gave him a condescending glance. “Think you can walk that far?”

  Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet, walking forward until she was pressed against the wall of a shuttered store. She needed to learn the dangers of baiting him too far. “Sweet­heart,” he said, bending to put his mouth against hers. “I could walk that far and carry you with me.” And then he kissed her. There was no more gentle persuasion, no coaxing her lips open. His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head back as he leaned in, pressing his hard chest against her breasts, covering her mouth with a deep, slow kiss that promised all sorts of dark, erotic pleasures. His lips were sealed against her mouth, his tongue stabbing between her teeth and twisting around hers, as she strained upward wanting more. Quinn was tempted to taste her, just a small nip of her tender lip. But it was too soon for that. If he tasted her now, he’d want more when they finally fucked. He’d want to feed. Reminding himself that he wanted his true nature to remain a secret for now, he pulled back, ending the kiss with a sensuous flourish of his tongue that left her breathless when he finally released her, sliding her down the full length of his body until she stood unsteadily on her sexy heels.

  Quinn wanted to laugh, but settled for a grin as she gripped his arms, her breath coming in short gasps and her heart pounding.

  “Do you need me to carry you?” He couldn’t resist the teasing question, which got him a narrow-eyed look that lacked her usual fire. He bent down and kissed her lips gently. “Come on, baby, I’ll walk you home.”

  She sighed and took his hand, leaning into him as they turned the corner onto her street, not even seeming to notice that he hadn’t needed her to tell him the way. By the time they reached her flat, she’d caught her breath and was no longer relying on him for support. So much so that Quinn wondered if she was going to invite him in, or if she was having second thoughts.

  But she never let go of his hand as she unlocked the door, then turned and gazed up at him through her thick lashes. “You want to come in?” she asked, her fingers squeezing his in unconscious nervousness.

  He pulled her closer, wrapping their joined hands around the small of her back, as he met her eyes and said softly, “I’d like that.”

  She blushed and tugged him over the threshold. “Come on, then.”

  It was all the invitation he needed to follow her into the small room. Eve let go of his hand to close and lock the door, then turned to face him. The room was lit by only a single small lamp, but he could see the gold lights in her red hair, the gleam of her dark eyes . . . and the desire when she looked at him. She backed away, dropping layers of clothing as she went.

  He didn’t move, simply watched her slow striptease as she con­tinued backing toward a bed in the far corner. He glanced over as her jacket fell to the floor. It wasn’t a very big bed, but it would do. His gaze slid back as she pulled her sweater over her head, baring a black lace bra that barely managed to contain the swell of her breasts. “Fuck. Me,” he whispered. The outfit was pure seduction, he realized, and anger swelled, quickly replaced by fear for her safety. Had she dressed like that to better seduce the vampires she intended to kill? It was a dangerous gamble. It would be only a matter of time before her luck ran out and she was the one killed instead.

  “Eve,” he said, intending to warn her, but the look in her eyes stopped him.

  “Not tonight, Quinn,” she murmured and flicked the clasp on her bra with one hand. Her breasts were full and creamy smooth, with round, pink areolas and large nipples that stood hard and aroused, begging to be sucked.

  “Christ.” He was on her in two long strides, taking her mouth, feeling the crush of her bare breasts against his chest. Wanting to be skin to skin, he let her go long enough to rip his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, then yanked her back against him, lifting her off her feet to take her mouth in a searing kiss. He demanded and she responded, opening her mouth, kissing him as hungrily as he kissed her, their teeth clashing, biting, until he tasted the first drop of her blood when her lip split. He groaned, a deep sound from his gut, as his fangs pushed against his gums, craving release. He wanted to bite her, he lusted after her blood. But she’d run screaming if he
bit her, and he wanted her body nearly as badly. With the kind of willpower that it took to be a vampire lord, he forced his fangs back into his gums and, skimming his lips over her neck, lowered his mouth to her chest. Closing his teeth over her clavicle, he felt the delicate bones beneath her skin. So fragile. He could shatter them with a single bite. His teeth only grazed, leaving a mark without breaking the skin. Another taste of her blood would test his control too harshly. Moving downward, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue circling round and round, until the already firm pearl was hard and pulsing with blood. It was one more temptation that had him growling as he switched to the other breast, giving that nipple the same treatment while he continued to pinch the first into aching tenderness, hearing Eve’s groan as her fingers clenched in his hair. Over and over, she cried out, hungry little moans that made his cock pulse with desire.

  Her hands left his hair to tug at the rest of her clothing, searching for the zipper on her short skirt. But Quinn couldn’t wait. Sliding his hands up her thighs, he shoved her skirt to her waist and removed the tiny knife she’d secured to her thigh, ripping away the silky black panties that were all she had on underneath. He felt a renewed surge of rage that she’d gone hunting some other vampire in those tiny panties, and with nothing but a fucking pocket knife for defense. His anger was quickly forgotten, however, replaced with lust as his need surged. He took a step forward and threw her on the bed, coming down between her thighs, spreading them wide with his hips as he reached down to lower his zipper and free himself. Her pussy was warm and wet, slick with arousal, as he slid the tip of his cock back and forth between her swollen lips, making sure she was ready for him.

  “Do it,” she whispered, reaching down to grasp his erection, lifting her hips to urge him inside.

  Quinn snarled and yanked her hand away, stretching both her arms over her head and holding them there with one big hand around her slender wrists. She fought him, but his eyes met hers in a flat stare. Something she saw there made her own gaze soften, even as she gritted her teeth and said, “Get on with it then.”

 

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