"I've got it." Jennifer sat up, swinging her slim legs off the side of the table.
"What?" Maeve raised her head, forcing Sunni to shove her flat once more.
"You need to make yourself indispensable. Alexandre values goals, logic and intelligence above everything else, even beauty. He's a man of science. That is the language he speaks."
A quiver of excitement ignited in Sunni's stomach. This could very well be the answer to her dilemma. If she could make herself indispensable to Alexandre, maybe then he'd look at her as something other than a silly woman with more hair then sense. She knew she was intelligent; now she had to clue him in on the fact.
She nodded. "You might be onto something-"
Maeve shook her head. "I disagree. Sunni is definitely not a woman of science. She's more a child of nature. No offense, my dear, but you don't think before you speak and you never look before you leap."
Stung, Sunni straightened. "That's not true." She tossed the cone into the trashcan. "I do think before I speak. I simply choose not to censor myself."
"Which gives people the impression that you're a bit...flighty," Maeve replied. "You've just illustrated my point."
"Yeah, well... some people don't know how to have fun." Sunni stepped away from the massage table, the peacock complete. "Now don't move. We have to let this dry before you can get up."
Maeve raised her head. "How long do I have to lie here?"
"At least three hours."
"I have to go to the bathroom," she wailed.
Sunni shot a pointed look at the wineglass and the almost-empty wine bottle. "You should have thought of that before you guzzled all the wine. Besides, that's what you get for calling me flighty." She grinned as Jennifer burst into laughter and Maeve's scowl deepened.
Revenge was sweet, indeed.
The New Orleans night surrounded him like a humid blanket.
Alexandre inhaled the thick air, scented with the sea and the crush of humanity on Bourbon Street. Brightly dressed crowds moved along the legendary street, imbibing Hurricanes and partaking of the eclectic mix of music, which poured from the nightclubs scattered along the avenue. Mardi Gras. There was nothing like it in the world. Drunken revelers dancing in the streets, women flashing their breasts for strands of cheap beads. It was cheap, tacky and ill mannered.
It was good to be home.
He moved down the street, weaving between groups of bewildered tourists and drunken partygoers. Normally he'd find a place to watch, unobserved. Nothing intrigued him more than humanity, and he considered himself a scholar of such creatures. As a vampire hundreds of years old, he barely remembered how it felt to be mortal. Some memories stuck in his mind, such as the warmth of the sun on his skin, the sensation of eating food, the heady effects of a bottle of fine merlot. But now that's all they were-mere shadows of memory. By studying humanity, though, he maintained a tenuous grip on his sense of former self.
However, tonight he had no time to linger.
He stepped into the street to avoid a couple of drunken men as they staggered down the sidewalk. Stepping back onto the walk, he continued his journey, ignoring the brightly colored store windows and the raucous music. Barely clothed women danced in the windows of one nightclub, trying to entice men to come inside, and he barely spared them a glance.
Raphael was waiting and Alexandre could only hope that the young vampire had the information he sought. In the past twenty-four hours, two disturbing deaths had occurred in the city. Both vampires, each younger than fifteen vampire years, had been found dead, their bodies charred beyond immediate recognition. So far, nothing had surfaced as to the cause of their deaths. Was it murder? Suicide? Something else?
Alexandre suppressed his frustration at how little he knew of the situation. Younger, streetwise vampires were reluctant to give information to an elder such as himself, and it was this information that he needed in order to get to the bottom of the situation. Without Raphael, he knew he'd be going into the situation blind. The young vampire could gather information that few others could as he'd lived in New Orleans for all of his vampire life. He could certainly get information that Alexandre wasn't privy to.
A peculiar sensation, not unlike that of a low-voltage current, rippled across his skin, bringing him to a halt. He raised his head and scanned the area with his vampire senses. The noise of Bourbon Street faded into the background as he concentrated.
Another vampire was nearby.
A hapless pedestrian plowed into him from behind and Alexandre didn't flinch. The man staggered around him, muttering under his breath in slurred tones as he continued down the street.
Alexandre scanned the area to pinpoint the vampire's location, his gaze coming to rest on a brightly lit storefront across the street. Bold golden letters were scrawled across the front:
S S Designs
Tattoo and Mehndi Artists
The vampire was within.
He stepped into the narrow, congested street and moved toward the store. Looking through the window, he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing as he found her.
Sunni.
He glanced at the window again and noted the smaller lettering, Sunni and Sasha, Owners and Resident Goddesses.
He frowned and turned his attention to the occupants of the tiny room. Sunni wore yet another messy-looking skirt, this one in the palest of pink swirled with streaks of gray. A slim- fitting tank top in matching gray completed her ensemble. She sat on the edge of a massage table, swinging her bare feet as she spoke to a massive, tattooed man seated in what resembled a dentist's chair. Another woman stood beside him, working a tattoo centered on his right shoulder.
Sunni's golden hair gleamed in the bright lighting and she gestured with her hands as she spoke, her expression animated, her eyes sparkling. Her nails were painted shell pink. Her fingers were bare of rings save one on her left index finger, the jewel a blood red.
The oversized customer grinned and said something that caused Sunni to shout with laughter, her entire body vibrating in merriment.
The sounds of her mirth reached his acute ears through the glass. He watched as she tipped her head back, exposing her soft throat to his gaze before bending double. One of the first things he'd ever noticed with Sunni was her propensity for laughter. She was almost always merry and laughing was a whole-body experience for her. He hadn't spent much time with her, but he'd lost count of the number of times when he'd see her bent double with glee.
He watched as she sat upright, her eyes dancing. She licked her lips and his groin tightened. He wondered if she was that unrestrained in bed.
Down, boy.
Annoyed, he swung away from the window and continued down the street, his stride lengthening as he shouldered drunken revelers out of his way.
What was it about her? Sunni wasn't anything he looked for in a woman. She was blonde; he liked dark hair. She was tiny; he preferred tall, statuesque women. She didn't seem to be terribly bright; he admired intelligence. She had the maddening habit of laughing at everything, even herself. To her, everything was amusing. It was rare that he'd ever seen her completely serious. And the most maddening of all, she was never quiet. Even her jewelry was noisy.
Lately he'd been thinking about having another affair. It was long past time. It had been too many years since his ill-fated liaison with Cass. His mouth tightened. That had certainly turned out to be a huge mistake as she'd betrayed him in the worst possible way. She knew too much about him and had almost managed to bring about his downfall and that of the Council. Never again would he open his heart and, more importantly, his mind to another woman.
Even if he did decide it was time to seek a female companion, she wouldn't be a vampire and it certainly wouldn't be Sunni, even if she were the last person on the planet. She owned half of a tattoo parlor for heaven's sake. Not to mention the fact she was never dressed properly. To him, it appeared as if her mantra were the less clothing the better.
Not that he minded her attire from
a male point of view. As a man he certainly appreciated a glimpse of her legs, the creamy flesh of her stomach, the shadowed hollow between her breasts. However, he wouldn't consider having a relationship with a woman who eschewed shoes as she obviously did.
Then again, she was as sexy as any woman he'd ever met in his life. Every movement hinted at her raw sensuality. If she behaved in bed as she did when she laughed, with such unabashed delight, she'd be a force to be reckoned with. Images of her lithe body, nude in his arms, crowded his mind. A rush of lust caused him to falter and come to a complete stop.
He blinked, looking around as if he'd awakened from a deep sleep. Where the devil was he? He turned around and stared dumbfounded at the street signs. Damn, he'd missed his turn by two blocks.
Annoyed, he started back the way he'd come. He'd been so engrossed in thoughts about Sunni that Cass could have walked up behind him and taken his head without him even being aware of her presence.
Resolutely, he shoved all thoughts of the annoying little blonde from his mind. She was nothing but trouble and he had enough of that as it was. Vampires were dying under mysterious circumstances and it was up to him to find out why before there were more victims.
He reached the street where he needed to turn and immediately sensed another vampire in the vicinity. The pulse was weak like that of a very young preternatural. It had to be Raphael.
Now was not the time to ponder a physical relationship with any woman, let alone her. He had obligations.
* * *
About the Author
J.C. Wilder lives in Westerville, Ohio where she's owned by a Japanese Akita named Severena and a really obnoxious Jack Russell Terrier named Copper Penny. She spends the majority of her time dusting her 6,000 books and staring at her blank computer screen in complete terror.
After six years working for CompuServe Inc., she's working as a Business Analyst for the State of Ohio. When not writing, she devotes much of her time to studying the medicinal uses of herbs and essential oils and howling at the moon.
Temptation is the sixth book in the Shadow Dweller Series, available in a wide range of electronic formats or as special double-volume trade paperbacks from LTDBooks.com.
You can write to J. C. at [email protected] or visit her webpage at http://www.jcwilder.com.
* * *
Publisher info:
Stories that stimulate your laughter, Provoke your tears, Evoke your secret fears,
Stories that make you think...The stuff that dreams are made of...LTDBooks
www.ltdbooks.com
Table Of Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
One With The Hunger
Sins of the Flesh
About the Author
Publisher info:
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 6 Page 20