A Vampire Bundle

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A Vampire Bundle Page 38

by Alexandra Ivy


  Stumbling to a halt, Abby glanced about her with wide eyes. It was impossible. There was nothing ratinfested about this place. Not with its black marble columns and crimson velvet walls and domed roof painted with beautiful naked women.

  It was lush and exotic and, well, more than a little decadent.

  “What is this place?” she breathed in wonder.

  Dante smiled wryly as he took her arm and steered her toward a nearly hidden alcove at the back of the room.

  “Better not to ask.”

  “Why?”

  Ignoring her question, he brushed aside the gauzy curtain spangled with golden stars and pulled her down a darkened hall until they reached the last door. Tugging it open, he waited for her to enter before firmly closing the door behind them and turning on the lights.

  Much to her relief, Abby discovered the large room considerably more comfortable than the lavish lobby they had left behind. There was a solid warmth to the satinwood paneling and leather furnishings that were scattered over an ivory carpet. More like an English country estate than a lavish bordello, she decided.

  Absently wandering to study the leather-bound books that filled the shelves upon one wall, she drew in a deep breath before turning to meet Dante’s guarded gaze.

  “Will we be safe here?”

  “Yes, the building is owned by an acquaintance of mine. It possesses an enchantment upon it that will prevent anyone from sensing your presence here. Human or demon.”

  Enchantment? Well, that sounded . . . less strange than anything else that had occurred this bizarre evening. Still, Abby sensed there was a great deal he wasn’t telling her. Always a bad sign.

  “And your friend?” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “Is he human or demon?”

  He gave a lift of his shoulder. “He is a vampire.”

  Abby rolled her eyes toward the open beamed ceiling. “Great.”

  With a silent grace, Dante was suddenly standing before her, his expression relentless in the muted light.

  “I would suggest that you attempt to disguise that rather nasty prejudice of yours, lover,” he warned in silky tones. “We shall need Viper’s assistance if we are to survive the next few days.”

  Suddenly realizing that she had indeed been more than a bit rude to the man who had saved her life more than once in the past few hours, Abby caught her lower lip between her teeth.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The silver eyes darkened as he tenderly ran the back of his fingers over her heated cheeks.

  “There are some things I must do. I want you to remain here.” The fingers slid beneath her chin as he gazed deep into her eyes. “And whatever happens, do not open this door until I return. Do you understand?”

  A shiver inched down her spine. He was leaving her? Alone?

  Good Lord, what if he didn’t return? What if some demon attacked while he was gone? What if. . .

  Grasping her shattered courage, Abby gave a lift of her chin. Stop being such a spineless wimp, she chided herself. Dammit. She had been taking care of herself since she was fourteen years old. Not only herself, but her mother as well, since the older woman discovered life easier to bear at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

  And all without the assistance of a sinfully beautiful vampire.

  “I understand.”

  As if sensing the effort it cost her to appear brave, his fingers tightened upon her chin. Gazes locked, he slowly lowered his head.

  “Abby,” he whispered.

  Softly he brushed his lips over her own. And over and over. His touch was featherlight, but it was enough to make her entire body tingle with pleasure. Tingle and shiver and lots of other exhilarating things.

  At last he lifted his head and stepped back. Still reeling with the aftershocks, she watched in silence as he turned to leave the room. It was only when the door snapped firmly shut behind him that she recalled the need to breathe.

  Well. . .

  It seemed that her feet weren’t nearly as tired as she had thought since her toes were firmly curled in pleasure.

  A hysterical urge to laugh bubbled in her throat as she moved to flop herself upon a leather sofa. Vampire kisses, indeed. She was mad. That was the only explanation. She was stark, raving mad.

  And thankfully too exhausted to even care at the moment.

  Allowing her head to topple back onto the leather cushions, Abby breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. For the first time in hours, she wasn’t searching over her shoulder for marauding demons or squashing through rotting trash. There was not even a vampire in sight.

  For the moment she could simply relax.

  Relax? Yeah, right, a tiny voice mocked in the back of her mind.

  She sucked in a deep breath. No. She could do this. All it took was a bit of concentration.

  Relax, relax, relax, she silently chanted. She snuggled deeper into the cushions. She slowed her breathing. She tried to imagine a beautiful waterfall, a peaceful meadow, the sound of whales (whatever the hell they sounded like).

  All worthless efforts that were eventually disturbed when a cold rash raced over her skin.

  A sudden certainty that she was no longer alone had her eyes fluttering open and her head lifting. Her heart halted as she realized her instincts had not been wrong.

  There was a man standing in the center of the room.

  No, not a man, she swiftly corrected. Now that she knew the truth of Dante, she could detect what those too-perfect features and fiercely elegant form meant.

  Not that this vampire was the spitting image of Dante, she readily concluded. He was taller and leaner, with a ripple of hard muscles beneath the crimson velvet coat that flowed nearly to his knees and black satin slacks. His hair was worn long, but it was like the pale silver of moonlight and his eyes the startling darkness of midnight. And while his features were hauntingly beautiful, there was a starkness to his countenance that sent a chill down her spine.

  This was not the charmingly wicked bad boy.

  This was an exquisite fallen angel who held himself aloof from the world about him.

  Slowly rising to her feet, she discovered herself nervously licking her lips as he strolled nonchalantly forward. His midnight gaze swept over her with unnerving intensity. It was not until he was a mere step from her that he came to a halt.

  “Ah, Abby is it not?”

  The dark voice flowed like warm honey over her. A voice as lethally fascinating as the rest of him. Yikes. He fell under the category of dangerous with a capital D.

  Still, Dante wouldn’t have left her here if he didn’t believe she was in safe hands. She might not know much about her savior vampire, but she did know he wouldn’t deliberately hand her over as dinner to one of his pals.

  Would he?

  “Yes, and you, I presume, are Viper?” she forced herself to murmur in polite tones.

  “Very astute.” The dark eyes swept over her slender features and tumble of honey curls. “And lovely.”

  Lovely? A faint frown touched her brow. Was he blind? Or was he indeed up to something nefarious? She had never been more than passably average. And that was when she wasn’t covered in muck and reeking of back alleys.

  “Thank you . . . I think.”

  His lips curled into a smooth smile. “You needn’t regard me with such distrust. I never feed upon my guests. It is rather bad for business.”

  Well, that was a relief. She cleared her dry throat. “And what is your business?”

  “I am a procurer of pleasure,” he said simply.

  She choked, her eyes widening at the unexpected words. “You’re a pimp?”

  His soft laugh reminded her forcibly of Dante as he tilted his head to one side. “Nothing so mundane,” he purred in low tones. “I offer . . . ah no, Dante would not thank me for exposing you to such sordid tales. He is astonishingly protective of you.” Without warning, he reached up to lightly brush her cheek. “And it is little wonder.”

  She stiffened
in unease. “What?”

  “Such purity.” His gaze drifted over her tense form before returning to linger upon her pale features. “A golden beacon to the dark.”

  First lovely and now pure? The poor, incredibly beautiful vampire really must be off his rocker.

  Not a very comforting thought.

  “I’m afraid you must have me confused with someone else,” she said in slow, easy-to-follow tones.

  His lips twitched as if realizing that she feared him mental. “I do not speak of chastity.” He gave an elegant wave of his hand. “Such a tedious mortal obsession. Or even of the spirit that you now carry within you. I speak of your soul, Abby. You have known tragedy and even despair, but you remain untainted.”

  She took a careful step back, desperately wishing that Dante would return. There was something very unnerving about this Viper.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Evil, lust, greed—the darker passions that so easily tempt mortals.”

  “Well, I suppose everyone is tempted.”

  “Yes, and so few resist.” He closed the small distance between them, his fingers once again tracing the line of her cheek. “Such innocence is bound to be an irresistible attraction for those who walk in the night. Wickedness always seeks redemption, even as the shadows seek the light.”

  Abby’s brain was beginning to ache in an attempt to follow the obscure revelations. Holy crap, she thought Dante spoke in riddles.

  “Ah . . . right,” she muttered, taking yet another step back in their peculiar dance. “Where is Dante?”

  Viper offered a shrug. “He did not give me his full itinerary, but I do know he has gone in search of breakfast.”

  Her stomach gave a sudden growl of relief. She couldn’t even remember her last meal. Which meant it was far too long ago.

  “Thank God, I’m starving. I hope he brings . . .” The delicious images of pancakes and eggs and bacon were suddenly tarnished by the thought of what Dante would be having for his predawn meal. “Ew.”

  Viper lifted a golden brow at her unmistakable shudder.

  “Do not worry, lovely Abby. He is not on the hunt.” Moving with mesmerizing grace, Viper flicked open a hidden panel in the wall to reveal a small refrigerator filled with dark bottles. “This is the home of a vampire. I always possess an ample supply of synthetic blood. The breakfast is for you.”

  Ridiculously relieved to know that Dante wasn’t out sucking the life from hapless pedestrians, she heaved a deep sigh.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  Closing the panel, the vampire smiled in a mysterious manner as he once again returned to stand before her.

  “You do not know, do you?”

  Her brows snapped together. “Know what?”

  “Since Dante was captured by the witches, he has been incapable of taking blood from a human. It is an element of the spell that binds him to the Phoenix.”

  “Oh, I . . . see.”

  “No, I don’t believe you see at all,” he murmured softly. “The suffering that Dante has endured for the past three hundred years has been immeasurable. He has been leashed and imprisoned by those who have no compassion, no ability to see him as anything more than a monster.”

  Abby stilled. Dear heavens. She had been so consumed with her own fears that she had never taken even a moment to consider what Dante must have endured all those endless years. He had been a prisoner, chained for eternity to Selena. God, it was a wonder he hadn’t dumped her whining butt in the nearest gutter and left her as demon food.

  “He’s not a monster,” she retorted in sharp tones.

  “You have no need to convince me, my dear.” He peered deep into her eyes. “I can only hope that you will understand his suffering and do what is possible to ease his burdens.”

  “Me?”

  “You now possess the power.”

  She blinked, giving a faint shake of her head. “And I thought Dante was cryptic. No offense, but vampires are strange creatures. Not as strange as that Halford or hellhounds, but definitely strange.”

  He gave a soft chuckle as he reached out to touch her curls. “We are ancient beings. We have seen the birth and fall of nations. Witnessed endless wars, famines, and natural disasters. Surely we are allowed a few eccentricities?”

  And what did she say to that?

  “Or at least a Purple Heart.”

  The midnight eyes momentarily filled with something that might have been amusement. “There are also visions of joy, pleasure, and unexpected beauty. Beauty such as yours.”

  “Exquisite taste as always, Viper,” a velvet voice drawled from the doorway.

  Startled by the interruption, Abby turned her head to regard Dante slowly strolling toward them. With a casual motion, he tossed the suitcase he held in his hand onto the sofa, never pausing in his approach.

  More relieved than she cared to admit at his return, Abby drank in the pale, wicked countenance. As ridiculous as it might be to accept, it was almost as if a part of herself had been missing during his absence. A part that now felt fulfilled.

  She was barely aware that Viper had moved to stand behind her, his hands resting lightly upon her shoulders.

  “So you return at last, Dante,” Viper murmured. “We were worried.”

  The silver gaze narrowed as Dante pointedly glanced toward the hands intimately grasping Abby’s shoulders.

  “Your concern is quite touching, Viper.” He slowly arched a brow. “And speaking of touching . . .”

  There was no mistaking the menacing edge in the satin voice, but Viper merely laughed.

  “You cannot blame a vampire for admiring such purity. It is quite . . . intoxicating.”

  “Then perhaps you should get a breath of fresh air to clear your mind,” Dante warned.

  “Always the warrior.” Viper reached to pull Abby’s fingers to his lips. “If you decide you prefer a poet, be sure to call for me.”

  “Viper,” Dante growled.

  With that mysterious smile, Viper offered his fellow vampire a faint bow before moving toward the door.

  “I shall leave the two of you to rest. Don’t worry that you’ll be bothered. I promise to keep the wolves, or in this case the demons, at bay.”

  Left on their own, Dante paused a moment before he moved to take the hand that Viper had so recently caressed.

  “You must forgive my friend,” he said with a wry smile. “He believes himself to be irresistible to women.”

  Smothering the urge to reach up and touch the sculpted face, she offered a distracted shrug. “He is rather fascinating,” she felt bound to admit. Surely not even a babbling idiot would believe she was utterly indifferent to the beautiful fallen angel?

  “You find him attractive?”

  “In an undead sort of way.”

  His expression hardened. “I see.”

  Abby shivered. “He also terrifies me. I think he would destroy anything or anyone in his path if it suited his purpose.”

  A smile touched his lips. “He will not harm you. Not as long as I am near.”

  “Where have you been?”

  He gave her fingers a slight squeeze before moving back to the suitcase he had left on the sofa and sweeping it open.

  “To Selena’s to retrieve a few belongings I thought we might need.” He pulled out several pairs of jeans and casual cotton shirts that had once belonged to her employer. “They might not be a perfect fit, but they should do.”

  She heaved a sigh of sheer relief at the thought of clean clothes. A small slice of paradise.

  “Thank you.”

  He reached back into the suitcase to pull out a small plastic container. “I also brought you this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Something I believe you shall soon have need of.”

  Hoping against hope that it was a hot fudge sundae, she took the container and slowly pulled off the lid. Her nose wrinkled at the foul smell that wafted from the green goo that most certainly was
not a hot fudge sundae.

  “Ugh. This is that vile stuff Selena used to drink.”

  “It will give you nourishment.”

  She hastily put the container onto a nearby table. “So will a cheeseburger and fries, and without any icky green aftertaste.”

  “Abby.” Oddly Dante turned to pace across the large room, his fingers running a restless path through his long raven hair. “There is something you need to know.”

  Her blood froze at his raw tone. She might not know jack about vampires, but she did know that tone. It meant trouble. It always meant trouble.

  “What?”

  Slowly he turned to study her with a somber expression. “When Selena was dying, she touched you.”

  Abby reluctantly recalled those horrible moments in Selena’s charred bedroom. It was something she had tried to put from her mind.

  She gave a nod of her head. “Yes, I remember. Her fingers were moving, and then she grabbed my arm. It hurt.”

  “That was because she transferred her powers to you.”

  “Her . . . powers?”

  “The spirit of the Phoenix,” he said. “It now resides within you.”

  She stumbled backward as she waited for the punch line to the sick joke. There had to be a punch line, didn’t there? Otherwise Dante would be serious. And that would mean she had some horrid creature setting up camp inside her.

  Abby clutched her throat with trembling hands. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  “No,” she at last managed to gasp. “You’re lying.”

  Easily detecting her distress, Dante moved forward, his hands held out. “Abby, I know this is difficult.”

  Abby loosed a hysterical laugh even as she bumped painfully into the paneled wall.

  She had thought there was nothing left to shock her. How could it? Nothing could be worse than demons and vampires.

  Or so she had thought.

  Now she gave a violent shake of her head. “What could you know? You’re not even human.”

  Chapter 5

  Dante suppressed the urge to growl in frustration.

  During his hurried excursion to Selena’s, he had prepared himself for this confrontation. He hadn’t pretended that Abby would do backflips of joy at being the Chalice for the Phoenix. Or thank him for offering the truth.

 

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