by Krista Walsh
Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Thanks for Reading
Acknowledgements
Other Works by Krista Walsh
About the Author
Shadows in the
Garden Hotel
An Invisible Entente Novel
By
Krista Walsh
All Rights Reserved
This edition published in 2017 by Raven’s Quill Press
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this work are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity is purely coincidental.
Cover art: Ravven (www.ravven.com)
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication maybe reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the publisher. The rights of the authors of this work has been asserted by him/ her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
For Sue, who helped me peel back
all of Allegra’s layers to find her true heart
1
Power uncoiled within Allegra Rossi’s muscles, and she arched her back with pleasure. Heat and lust pulsed from her core, rising up to simmer through the pores of her skin. The cool draft from the ceiling fan peppered the dampness of her back in icy kisses. Every smooth movement of her body shifted the currents of energy running through her, crashing them onto the banks of her mind, until her thoughts drifted away on their intoxicating sweetness.
The man beneath her ran his fingers over her hips, reminding her that he was there. She looked down at him, at the glazed eyes under the heavy eyelids, at the parted lips that begged her to taste them again.
It would be rude to disappoint them.
She lowered herself to her elbows and shifted the rhythm of their bodies, heightening her own passion. Sweat trickled down her chest as her stomach grumbled. She couldn’t wait any longer.
Allegra smiled at her breakfast, revealing a hint of her pointed canines, and the familiar rush of exhilaration coursed through her veins as his eyes widened. The lusty glimmer in his gaze sharpened into fear, and she sniffed the air to appreciate the tart bouquet that began steaming from his skin.
He bucked beneath her, fighting to free himself, but she squeezed her thighs tighter around his hips and firmed her grip around his wrists to keep his arms pinned above his head. He tried to yank his left hand away, the hand that had been so eager to caress her body only a short time ago, but she left no room for him to gain leverage. A crack echoed between them as a bone snapped. He cried out, and she dipped her head to lock her mouth against his.
He struggled to escape her, but she forced her tongue between his lips and inhaled. His wiggling beneath her only increased her pleasure. The muscles of his jaw twitched as he prepared to clamp his teeth down on her tongue, but she ground her hips against his, driving him deeper inside her. His jaw loosened with an involuntary gasp, followed by another cry from inside his throat as she sucked the breath from him. She moaned at the complex taste of his soul. The skin around her eyes warmed as her power filled them, and the heat spread, the strength of his energy filling every cell of her body. She squeezed his wrists harder — not because she had to keep him still, but because she could. The power was intoxicating.
After one final breath, the body beneath her sagged. Allegra gasped as a final shudder of gratification vibrated from her skull down to her toes, and then rolled onto her back. She offered the ceiling a blissful smile. Her stomach was full, her mind was clear, and her muscles were nothing but strips of jelly.
She couldn’t laze around and enjoy her conquest, however. Even though it was muted now, the nagging desire for more still burned in her blood, searing away some of her peaceful contentment. She squeezed her hands and closed her eyes, breathing deeply to gain control over the feral part of herself that she had never been able to eliminate. It filled her brain with thoughts of tearing her breakfast’s corpse to pieces and feasting on his flesh.
Allegra swallowed hard and cleared the images from her mind, focusing on the hunger she’d already satisfied to try to reclaim her relaxed state.
But the moment had passed, and the satisfaction of her victory was washed away under the bitterness of self-loathing. Ignoring the inevitable crash, she stretched across the sheets to loosen her remaining tension and focused on her breathing until the last of her darker instincts subsided.
She still wasn’t ready to get up and face the day yet, but unfortunately her taxi was on its way, and she couldn’t afford to dawdle.
She kissed the pads of her fingers and pressed them into the man’s cheek. His head was flopped to the side, and his open eyes were staring at the blankness of the wall. This was her least favorite part of meal time. She loved when they fought under her, and nothing pleased her more than the growing awareness in their eyes when she showed them that she was something more than human — something that held their lives in its hands and didn’t intend to return them — but she hated being left with corpses at the end.
“Don’t worry, darling. Someone will find you soon enough.”
She spared a quick thought for the cleaning staff that would stumble across him, for the medical examiner that would record his death from cardiac arrest, for the wife who would wonder what her husband was doing in a hotel room when he lived only a few minutes away. Then the thought disappeared. One didn’t survive as a succubus for thirty-two years by dwelling on other people’s feelings.
Her only priority was to make sure no one would think to look for her after she left. She knew how to move through a crowd in a way that no one remembered her if she didn’t want them to, so she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone in the lobby pointing her out. After a quick tidy of the room to remove any trace of her presence, the manager would no doubt believe the man had been up here on his own. She didn’t even need to worry about the police tracing her DNA from her intimate time with her breakfast — one of the many perks of her succubus nature; the only human quality about her was her physique.
Allegra sighed and eased her feet to the floor, then padded across the hardwood to the pile of clothes that lay in a heap at the end of the bed. One of her shoes had landed on top of the dresser, and her bra was draped over the mirror, but it didn’t take her long to round everything up and get dressed.
She leaned into the mirror to smooth out her lipstick with the edge of her thumb, then slid her heels on as the telephone rang. Her taxi, no doubt.
With a quick look around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything — an ingrained habit — she grabbed her jacket and suitcase and stepped out of the hotel room, closing the door firmly behind her. Humming to herself, she got into the elevator. It was time to go to work.
***
Ten minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of the Garden Hotel, the historical gem located right at the heart of the city of New Haven.
“Think the rooms here are as gorgeous as the outside?” the driver asked, staring at the hotel through the passenger-side wi
ndow. “One day I want to treat my wife to a stay. Dump the kids with their grandmother for the weekend and let Maria splurge on massages and room service.”
Allegra handed him the fare without replying to his chitchat. He rolled his eyes at her silence, but she didn’t care. What were a taxi driver’s opinions to her?
While he fetched her bags from the trunk of the SUV, she opened the door and extended a long leg out of the backseat. She balanced the point of her stiletto on the cobbled walkway and eased herself out of the vehicle.
A sharp wind caught the bottom of her skirt and blew the soft wool against her thighs. The temperature was cooler than it should have been in the third week of October, but most of the snow from the freak storm the week before had melted, which was fortunate timing for her photo shoot.
“Allegra!” called a woman from the other end of the courtyard. Allegra turned her head and stared through her large round sunglasses as Courtney Alto, the shoot’s production manager, pressed toward her through the small crowd of crew and models.
Allegra released a low groan, thanking the goddess that she’d enjoyed a full meal before arriving to work. Courtney’s enthusiasm was easier to swallow when she wasn’t hungry. Even with breakfast infusing her blood, her succubus temper growled and threatened to rise up, still stimulated by the morning’s exercise. She thrust that part of herself aside and stared down her nose at the producer.
Courtney was a twig of a woman with bony knees and elbows, who always wore pantsuits to work, kept her brown hair in a tight ponytail, and acted as though she’d consumed vast quantities of caffeine within the last ten minutes. Allegra didn’t enjoy working with her. That sort of hyperactivity set her teeth on edge.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Courtney said as she reached her. “They’ve got your room ready, and I think you’ll be happy with it. It overlooks the garden, the prime view of the hotel. We’ll get to work this morning at eleven hundred hours, so that gives you a bit of time to get settled. There’s a concierge wandering around here somewhere who will take your bag and show you where your room is. I think his name is Cody or something. Watch yourself, though — he’s the type to flirt with anything in a skirt. Just give me a minute first. I’m going to do a bit of a huddle to give everyone a run-down of how the week will look.”
Courtney scanned the group milling in front of the hotel, and Allegra crossed her arms, swallowing hard to prevent herself from growling in frustration. She was in no frame of mind to suffer the crowd yet. Her feeding had stretched on longer than anticipated — the man had been too nervous about his wife catching him to fall easily under her allure — and she needed time to get her demon urges back under control.
She molded her face into an expression of irritation as the producer finished gesturing to her assistant to round up the crew and turned back to her.
“Courtney, I have only just arrived. I was informed I would have a quiet reception and be left to myself until work began. I have no intention of standing in my heels on this stone while you tell me what I already know.”
Courtney smoothed down her hair and pressed her lips into a straight white line, and Allegra bit down on a triumphant smile. She’d learned long ago that setting the right tone with people was key. Once they believed they could order you about and walk over you, they did so with increasing regularity. The only way to prevent it was to be the one to put your heel down first.
The producer’s nostrils flared as she drew in a deep breath, which she released in a short huff.
“Look,” she said, raising her hand. “I know how you feel about working with me, and that you wish you were off on some fancy runway in Italy, but you’re not. You chose to take this job at Grace, and since you don’t have many other options in this city you claim to hate so much, how about we just get through the week without tearing each other’s heads off? I’d really appreciate it if you came to the huddle. You may know all the routines, but some of the new guys don’t, and we’ve all got to work together. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Allegra narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. She didn’t want to push the issue. While she didn’t like the woman, Courtney was correct that Grace magazine was one of the few modeling opportunities available in New Haven. The small-time glamor magazine wasn’t one that Allegra had pictured herself working with a year ago, back when her career was on the rise and she’d been receiving generous offers from big names. But life had since decided it would rather stick out its foot and trip up her steady climb to fame and fortune, and she just had to deal with it.
The bitterness of her fate coated the back of Allegra’s throat. She tightened her grip on her handbag and crossed the courtyard, Courtney rushing to keep up, to where the twenty people involved in the photo shoot had convened. Six models, three women and three men — none of whose names Allegra had bothered to remember — stood out from the rest in their tailor-made dresses and suits.
She rolled her eyes at the way they positioned themselves in front of Courtney with their eager expressions, begging to be noticed. As though one lowly production manager’s attention would be enough to vault their careers into the bright lights of billboards and international runways. Her younger competitors took the job so seriously. She had watched them during shoots, the way they considered every pose and facial expression, attempting to derive some meaning from each shot.
She supposed they had to. As humans, perfection only came with effort.
For Allegra, her modeling career was simply a way to make money and pass the time. The process of standing in front of the camera looking beautiful came too naturally for her to see the task as work.
The production side gathered around in more casual positions, dressed in T-shirts and jeans, their hair stuck up in all kinds of creative directions. Allegra sometimes envied their laid-back attire and the ease with which they completed their morning routines, but rough cotton was nothing to cashmere and cheap denim would be too coarse against her skin. She had both a professional reputation to uphold and personal standards to maintain, and anything less than designer or bespoke brands were beneath her.
She smoothed her skirt against her legs to stop the wind from lifting it and came to a stop at the edge of the crowd.
“Good morning, everyone,” Courtney said. She clasped her hands in front of her. “I can’t wait to work with you guys as we shoot this week at the beautiful, historical Garden Hotel.” She raised her clasped hands toward the stone building.
Does she think the models are too stupid to know where we are? Allegra thought. She shifted on her feet and tried to keep her attention on the rest of the speech, but her thoughts drifted to her breakfast. She wished she could have taken her time with Whatshisname. He had been so eager and yet so full of trepidation. It would have been a treat to draw out his uncertainty — it offered such a unique tang to a man’s energy.
Her desires squirmed, begging to be set loose so she could indulge a second time, but she wrangled them back into place. Her eyes stung with the frustration of the dark presence pushing her forward. She had spent so many years restraining herself, and yet her instincts had become increasingly difficult to manage over the last couple of months, requiring her to feed more often and suffer petty indulgences such as rich desserts and fine wines to keep herself sated. She felt exhausted by the effort, and at times only her pride in her public image prevented her from giving in and letting it take over.
She was Allegra Rossi — beautiful, distant, treacherous — and she refused to allow heredity to ruin everything she had built for herself.
She just needed some time alone to calm her mind, and then she would be up to the challenge of facing the crew.
“…New Haven’s tourist gems.” Courtney was saying. “As you know, the Garden has been a hotel since its construction in 1859. Mr. Banks is looking to inject some new life into the place and encourage a fresh wave of tourism. We’re here to help him with that.”
Allegra tilted her head to stare up at the beau
tiful gray stone walls of the hotel. The Garden’s prestigious reputation had lured businesses and private event organizers for decades, as well as the more affluent tourists. But from what Allegra had gathered from society gossip, in recent months some businesses had stopped leasing the rooms because of suspected untoward business practices. She hadn’t heard anything in detail about what those practices might be, though. She guessed it was the usual fraud or money laundering carried out by these affluent business people.
If indeed the quality of the hotel service no longer matched the architecture, she doubted a few glossy photographs in a glamor magazine would be enough to bring in a new tide of interest, but a week’s salary was enough of a reason for Allegra to participate.
“We’ve already gone through and chosen the backdrops for the sessions,” said Courtney, “and I’m excited to work with everything the Garden has to offer. Thank you to Mr. Banks for the opportunity to play here.”
She sent a smile over the crowd and gestured to a man standing near the front doors.
Allegra cast her gaze over the hotel owner and found herself running her tongue over her bottom lip. Annoyed with herself, she pressed her lips together, but continued her appraisal. Tim Banks appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a thick thatch of salt-and-pepper hair and a svelte figure under his navy pinstripe suit. Not the most expensive cut, likely off the rack, but at least tailored to fit. He boasted a strong jawline and a charming smile that any fool would recognize as fake, but she appreciated the effort.
She tilted her nose into the wind to catch his scent and her mouth watered with the taste of his energy. Sweet with a hint of sour — like a ripe apple. With her control already on edge, the effort to hold herself back from casting her allure over him right now took all of her concentration.
She had made a rule with herself before coming to the shoot that she wouldn’t feed on anyone at the hotel during her stay, but she noted Banks as a man worth returning for after the week was over.