“Hellhound.” The name burst from her throat. She tried to swallow it back. She wanted not to believe, not to know. “Hellhound?” Whirling to face Zin, she felt her body quake embarrassingly. “You don’t look like a hellhound.”
“Of course not. This is my human form.”
His low tone soothed her, somehow. Gently, he took her glass. Pressing the rim to her mouth, he tipped up a sip when she parted her lips.
“I think I need to sit down.”
Kandace closed her eyes, dizziness taking over. The next thing she knew her knees had buckled, and Zin held her tight against his body, his entirely unbelievably sexy body. Oh, Goddess, now she felt both swoony and faint.
“Sweet little Kandy, I can’t carry you to a chair. That will bring us unwanted attention. May I revive you?”
With her head twirling nastily, she murmured, “How?”
“Simply say yes.”
Kandace debated with herself. If he carried her anywhere, as if something was really wrong with her, someone would call the paramedics. That’s all she needed to deal with, that whole insane scene. “Yes.”
“Is she all right?” Marra called out, genuine concern in her voice.
Kandace decided she’d think better thoughts about her sister witch in the future. After all, it was no easy life being a real witch, despite the advantages.
“Just a bit too much alcoholic beverage and not enough food, I believe,” Zin returned with a calm Kandace admired.
Caressing his fingertips beneath her chin, he tipped her face beneath his. His warm lips touched hers in a brief kiss. Forks of lightning zapped her bloodstream. Vitality surged into her limbs.
“Wow pow.” Kandace took a step back. “What the devil did you do? Oh, that’s right, you’re not a demon, supposedly.”
To her credit, she’d kept her voice down to a fierce whisper. Kandace glanced around to see if they attracted the wrong kind of attention. Relieved, she concentrated on the hellhound before her.
Blue flames subtly flickered in his eyes. “The healing benefits of fire can’t be underestimated.”
“I guess not. What next?” Kandace balled her hands into fists. “Are we going for a midnight run over the moors? Oh, that’s right, it’s past midnight and this isn’t Scotland.”
“Would you like to vacation in Scotland, beautiful Kandace?” Zol asked from behind her, his tone utterly urbane.
“Right now, I just want to know why I’m an abandoned Enduoir witch—”
Kandace clamped her mouth shut, psi-sensing the close proximity of a security team. Listening equipment had been aimed in their direction.
“Later, we’ll tell you,” Zol rasped to her ear. “Right now, I want what you gave my brother.”
Embracing her shoulders between his palms, Zol turned her to face him—a slow dreamy motion she didn’t want to fight.
Damn, his hold felt like a lover she’d known forever. Kandace sighed inside and her eyelids slipped shut. “Share and share alike,” she whispered, “is that it?”
“We want to share you, yes, often.”
With a sensuality guaranteed to undo her, Zol brushed his fingers up her throat. Stroking beneath her chin, he tilted her mouth beneath his.
He pressed a kiss on her all-too-willing lips, one that became a tantalizing promise of things to come.
“Oh, Goddess,” she moaned. “I think you just undid what your brother did. I’m melting like the bad—” She didn’t finish, automatically suppressing her words since the security team lurked nearby.
“A devilish temptress, yes.” Zol smoothed his hands over her upper arms, then her shoulders, and slowly caressed. Not the bad witch, he mouthed.
Kandace gulped. “I should go home.”
Why did she suddenly feel like a twelve-year-old girl? Well, crapping hell, it wasn’t everyday hellhounds put the perfect moves on her—twin hellhounds. Did they really have four heads?
“A dance first.”
Zin spoke behind her, his voice so compelling she nearly turned around. The dark intensity of his desire spiraled around her, a living thing. The strands tightened. Wildly, Kandace wondered if by saying yes she’d agreed to let him touch her in this way.
“I suppose you want what your brother had earlier.” She cut with her tone, though it was a pitiful slice.
“Yes, always.” Zin stroked her back, then smoothed one of his palms between her shoulder blades. Sensually, he pressed two of his fingers up the back of her neck.
Kandace couldn’t help it, softly arching her body toward Zin. “That feels utterly perfect.”
Good Goddess, she reveled in the way they handled her, and in the old-fashioned and polished way they seduced her.
“Bad hellhounds,” she murmured.
Chapter Eight:
A Pair of Very Bad Bones
A grin tugged at one corner of Zol’s mouth as he raised his gaze to Zin.
“We are bad hellhounds,” he growled in a whisper.
“Bad to the bone.” Zin moved to their petite witch’s side and took up her hand, drawing her before him.
“You two do have a pair of very bad bones,” she drily countered.
“When we’re good, we’re very good,” Zin crooned, “but when we’re bad we’re even better. To borrow from the incomparable Mae West.” Claiming her arm, he wrapped it around his, then led her toward the dance floor.
Zol watched Kandace give her gorgeous electric mane a toss. “A hard man or hellhound is good to find,” she sassed his twin.
Smiling to himself, Zol basked in the feel of her kiss, still a pleasurable sensation on his lips. Nothing like a spirited female to keep both him and Zin on the claw tips of their paws, he thought.
Casually slipping his hand inside the pocket of his tux, he performed a mental scan of the mansion, then searched the minds of the Hendersons and their cohorts, including their head security honcho.
So far, the high-priced security teams failed, but continued their bloodhound-like snooping. What disturbed the Hendersons, and their circle of high-class crooks, more than the burglary was the seeming ease of accomplishment and the lack of any viable clues.
Knowing Zin would remain telepathically connected with him despite the allure of their Kandy Apple, Zol sauntered in the direction of a security team to investigate further. He wanted a sharper understanding of their strengths and weaknesses.
Given there were two more witches present, four werewolves, one vampire and five Djinn, he also needed to discover if any of them knew Kandace had used her powers to liberate her friend’s painting. Usually, Supernaturals didn’t turn against one another. However, that was never an absolute.
Zol refrained from glimpsing, then experiencing Kandace through Zin. Instead, he strolled toward three of the Djinn, all of them women. Listening to their barbed banter with the group of playboy types that surrounded them, he knew they amused themselves at the expense of the human males.
Zol feathered his mind scan over them. Finding nothing of consequence, he moved in the direction of the vampire, a man who fed on the creative force of artists as much as the blood he helped himself to at area blood banks.
Phillip intercepted him, a musing glow in the depth of his stark green eyes. “Très élégante, as usual, Zolivar.”
“Your attire is matchless in sophistication, of course,” Zol returned. “Has the evening been to your pleasure?”
Phillip curved a genuine smile. “I would say the evening has been to your and Zin’s pleasure. How did you convince la petite femme, Kandace, to allow your company? I’ve tried for months.”
“We are aware of her off-world origin.” Zol offered the truth, since the vampire had never acted against them or any Supernatural they knew.
“Ah. Enduoir Prime?” Phillip studied him, then continued after a sip of his brandy. “I’ll take your silence as my answer. A tip, Hades hound, there is a search by enemies of Enduoir for a witch with a specific power.”
Zol scrutinized Phillip’s fac
e and aura. “Your tip is appreciated. Were you aware of Julienne’s fascination with you?”
“Now, I am.”
Zol responded to Phillip’s subtle nod of thanks with his own, then sauntered toward two of the werewolves, a couple who promoted new artists. While he and Zin had discussed pieces of art with them, their mutual canine natures had never been a topic of conversation.
Rochelle beamed an engaging smile at him as they approached one another. “Zin is certainly having his romantic way with our friend, Kandace, on the dance floor.”
“I caught a few glimpses of you tripping the light fantastic with her, earlier.” Brad winked, then claimed his wife’s waist.
“Intriguing. Zin and I met Kandace for the first time this evening. We are utterly smitten, of course.”
“We,” Rochelle softly mused.
“They are twins.” Brad probed him with a wolfen gaze.
“Kandace is feisty enough to handle you both.” Rochelle’s gaze turned serious. “You and Zin will protect her if she needs it?”
“That is our first duty to her, of course.”
Rochelle smiled radiantly at him and nodded.
At the same time, Brad offered his hand. “Later,” he growled, once they ended their brief handshake.
Relieved by what he’d learned, thus far, Zol mind-searched all the security teams. Kandace had been identified as an acquaintance of the woman the painting had belonged to, and was on a list to be interviewed.
Frowning, Zol alerted Zin to his discovery. While he could alter the list, overuse of their abilities brought its own dangers.
Judicious use is always wise, Zin agreed.
Is she aware? Zol returned.
I believe she realizes, yes, and is not concerned now.
Swiftly, Zol telepathed what he’d learned from the other Supernaturals to Zin, then strode toward the nearest bar as if his goal was another drink. On the way, he acknowledged those he knew with the salute of his hand.
Beverly, the other witch present, chatted with a small group of admirers. Unlike Marra, she kept her abilities hidden, and was celebrated as a performance artist, one with a magical touch, of course.
Keeping his look inside her mind delicate as vine tendrils, Zol found out Beverly had put two and two together, guessing Kandace had vanished the painting. She’d already psychically read the reason for the increase in security teams and followed the faint frequency trail down the staircase.
Interest lit her eyes once she noticed him. Excusing herself, Beverly joined him at the bar.
Keeping one elbow planted on the tall bar, Zol leisurely shifted to face her. “May I order you a drink?”
“A margarita will do, thank you.” Beverly’s astute gaze stabbed toward him. “From any other man I would consider that to be a pickup line.”
Zol grinned, then summoned the bar tender. “Margarita for the lady, please. Your ability to assess me is impressive,” he offered, then saluted her with his martini.
“Yeah, yeah…maybe so. Why isn’t your twin with you? I’ve never seen you two apart before.”
“Zin is on the dance floor. You’ve never noticed us partnering different women?”
Beverly quirked a droll smile. “Yeah, sure. But then, you’re both dancing.” Accepting her drink, she tasted before nailing him with her gaze. “Too bad you’re not my type, Mr. Tall, Tan, and Handsome, or I’d be asking you to dance.”
“Not your type?” Zol decided that was the safest avenue to go down.
“Don’t do men with a real beast barking inside.” Smugly, Beverly eyed him, then took a small swallow of her drink.
“Touché.” Zol tipped up his martini for a sip. “What about men who transform into smoke?” He’d asked because one of the two Djinn men had appeared nearby, his entire focus on Beverly, his jealousy spiking toward Zol.
“There is a mutual attraction between us,” Beverly softly admitted, her mouth hovering above the rim of her glass. “But I haven’t decided if he’s worth the risk.”
Zol lifted one shoulder. “He seems devoted already, if the smolder in his eyes is to be believed.”
“You can see that from here?” Beverly asked, her voice small, hopeful.
“Observing anything that smolders is one of our specialties.”
“I’ll bet.” Nervously, she swirled the icy contents of her glass. “Oh, don’t worry, helldog. I’m not ratting anyone out. Especially when I don’t know who did what, for certain.” Beverly took a generous swallow. “Yeah,” she answered Zol’s questioning gaze, “I watched you two sniffing the Kandy Apple girl. Your tongues practically dragged the ground. Metaphorically speaking, that is.”
“Since I’m about to be singed by your admirer, I’ll take my leave.” Zol smiled, pivoting away.
Chapter Nine:
Daughter of Affrony
As they slow danced, Zin splayed his hand on Kandace’s silken back. Caressing up her small lovely neck, he tangled his fingers in the wild airy feel of her hair. He slid his fingers through, matching the symphonic tempo of “Season of the Witch.”
The side of her face rested on his lower chest, pleasing to Zin. He felt tender in a new way, and ferociously protective of his little witch.
“What’s Zol up to?” she asked, once the music faded. “I’m sensing him, but I can’t tell what he’s up to.”
“He’s protecting you.”
She raised her gaze, her chin pressing against his chest. The intimate gesture moved Zin in profound way, and he wanted more of these moments with her.
“From who?” she asked. “Nobody knows—”
“As a precaution,” he interrupted, “from other Supernaturals.”
“I’ve never had a problem…well, there was that time when the Jersey Devil tried to get revenge.”
Zin captured the back of her head, pinning her with his gaze. “Revenge?”
“Oh nothing big deal. I just stopped him from devouring a friend’s dog. It wasn’t as though he was actually hungry, either.”
Zin decided he and Zol would have a chat with Hades’ Goddess-in-charge of the Jersey Devil squadron, Hytroph. Knowing she had more such adventures to tell, he demanded, “What else?”
“Oh for crap’s sake, if you must know, H hound, a couple of fairy women turned nasty because the human men they were attempting to seduce paid attention to me. The guys were good dancers. Beside, how did I know…until, all of a sudden, a pair of cops decided I was their prime suspect for stealing money from the fairies. As if they ever even use real money. No, just spread some fairy dust, smile, and stroll merrily on their way.”
“You didn’t sense their interest in the human males?”
“I was in what I called my strictly human mind, so I didn’t slip up and use my powers. Of course, I don’t do that anymore.”
Zin’s curiosity became an unstoppable force. “What did you do to the cops?”
She smiled up at him, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “After they escorted me out to their patrol car, I zapped all their so-called evidence, then changed them into chimps and locked them inside the car. The zoo people showed up with tranquilizer guns. I don’t know what happened once the spell wore off, except both officers retired.”
Zin grinned. “The Witch’s Federation would disapprove.”
“They were acting like stupid chimps. Why not? Besides, the WF is too conservative in their recommendations.” Tilting her chin, she averted her face for a moment. “We’re being listened to.” She stood on tiptoe. “The security team over there—”
Zin lifted her, brushed his mouth over her surprised delectable lips, then let her slide down him. “I know.”
Once she gained her feet, he swept her into the middle of the dance floor. Barely recognizable, “Highway to Hell” had been transformed to an upbeat waltz. Zin took advantage of his opportunity to woo his svelte little witch, moving his body in a manner that tempted her to mold herself passionately against him.
As the music ended, she clung to h
im, breathless. Zin caressed her delicate back for moments before swinging her away from the security team. He halted them on the edge of the dance floor.
“It’s time for me to leave this enchanting evening, H hound. You know, a girl has to get up and—”
“We’re taking you home, Kandace.”
“You can’t. What do you mean?” The impassioned drape of her body changed to stiff defiance. “My home? Your home?”
Her essence blazed around him like a pyre. Zin allowed her to take a step back, yet kept her within the circle of his arms.
“You mean your home.” Her voice might as well have been flames licking him.
“Yes. Zol and I plan to ravish you into complete surrender.”
Her breaths flew from between her parted lips. “Complete surrender,” she repeated. “I have to, to…help my friend tomorrow.”
Zin urged her closer. Her little pants escaped, swift and wild.
“It would be wiser to help your friend once the storm passes, don’t you think, my lovely Kandace?”
Her cheeks flushed to nearly the color of her dress. “Not that friend. Another friend. Besides, I’m not leaving my car here. I’d have no way to—”
“One of us will drive your car. The Twilight Mirage only seats two.”
“Twilight Mirage?” Her eyes glowed with interest, becoming dark amethyst in color.
Zin devoured the splendor of her eyes. “Our sports car, an original design.”
“Oh, is that yours? I wondered who owned it.” Her admission burst out before she could halt it. Setting her jaw stubbornly, she fired, “What if I don’t want to be ravished?”
“Do you want to be made love to, beautiful Kandace?”
Zin bent forward until her face was beneath his. Howls to the moon, her very being captivated him while the flame-sweet fragrance of her desire pleasurably leashed him.
Kougar, Savanna - Kandy Apple and Her Hellhounds (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5