Gold Dust Woman

by Alicia Sparks

  Their killing sprees had been sporadic as of late, but people had died all the same. And Canon had been the root of it all, starting with Chloe’s death. His deal with the devil was legendary. They had met at this very spot, the crossroads between heaven and hell. Blues musicians throughout New Orleans had paid tribute to the pact, but now the deal had ended. Canon’s soul was now damned.

  So why didn’t she feel any better?

  “Bad blood got you down, girl?” The figure appeared almost luminescent as it hovered over the old grave, almost shapeless, but she knew who he was. It was a voice Sybil knew, and was what had driven her to take her vengeance out on Canon by taking his power. Worse yet, it was the ultimate evil that often preyed upon innocents just as Canon did. And she had made a deal with the figure.

  “What do you want?” She peered into the mist, attempting to make out a face this time. Nothing. Nothing at all except the most pure form of evil known to man. The Christian devil had made New Orleans his playground, and she had fallen right into his hands.

  “Came to see good on your promise. You think you got what you wanted.”

  “I took his power.” Her lips trembled as she spoke. There had been a second when Canon leaned against her that she wanted to give him her blood, allow him to make her one of his. Nothing had stopped her save her pride. She would not give in to him.

  “You unleashed mine.” Golden eyes twinkled in the dark mass.

  “Go to hell.”

  “Just came from there. And I got a warning for you, girly. You broke a pact.”

  “We had no pact.” She lied. They had a pact when he agreed to show her the past she could not recall. The old gypsy she had met in Jackson Square had only whetted her appetite to learn more about Chloe and Canon. The old man had pointed her to a shop that no longer existed on St. Ann. That was where she had made the deal with the devil. She would learn about her past if she promised never to interfere with Canon’s life.

  At the time, it seemed simple enough, but that was before she realized what Canon was and what kind of evil he had spawned.

  “When I told you all about your past, you and I made a covenant. Revenge would be slow coming. You took it into your hands.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I let you see your past. I showed you your death and the cause of your current state. You want to have a baby so bad it’s blinded you to good sense. Taking his power won’t bring back your dead baby.”

  His words sliced into her heart. She hadn’t even known the child in this lifetime, but she had felt its presence every day of her life. “It will free her soul for…”

  “For next time? You don’t always get a next time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you sure you want what you want, girly?”

  She opened her mouth to respond. Yes, she wanted it. She wanted Canon to feel some of the pain she had felt when he abandoned her and left her to die at his father’s hands. His reward had been immortality, a life without her or their child.

  “I want it to be over,” she managed, her lips trembling, unshed tears stinging her eyes.

  Demonic laughter filled the air as the swirling mist opened. She reached out to touch the air, to grab hold of something tangible in this confusion. As she reached up, Canon stumbled forward, breaking her contact with the supernatural when he collapsed on top of her.

  Chapter Two

  The fog refused to lift from Canon’s head when he stumbled out into the night air. Instinct guided him as he moved clumsily through the alleyways toward the cemetery. The chill wrapped around his neck, making its way down into his lungs, shaking him. His fingers had never felt this numb before.

  Voices from the past whispered around him, causing a swirl of confusion. His father’s voice rose above the masses, sending him spiraling toward a collision he couldn’t avoid. For a second, the past and the present combined, and his father once again stood before him, hatred gleaming in his eyes.

  No matter how evil Canon Helaire Sr. was, he would not be able to stand up against the wrath of his son. The devil had promised victory but swore it would come with a price. That hadn’t mattered to Canon as he struck his father again and again, each blow avenging Chloe’s death. Finally, when his father lay on the verge of death, Canon sank his newly formed fangs into his cold neck and drained the last of his blood from his body.

  The deed had been done, and there was no turning back. He was now a creature of the night, one of the undead, and he was now falling toward a woman who sat on the ground on the outskirts of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1.

  “Chloe.” Her name slipped from his lips as he fell forward, half crawling to the woman who now stood before him.

  Maybe he had died and she had at last come for him. He had wanted to die since the moment he buried her. He had longed for it, but the need for revenge for her death swelled within his heart until all he could think of was killing his father. To hell with the consequences.

  Now that he knew the price he would pay for that vengeance, he wondered if he would do it all over again. He had been responsible, whether directly or indirectly, for countless deaths. He had spawned an entire brood of vampires who had populated New Orleans and then spread out to the rest of the world.

  Misery had driven him to give immortality to those he thought could ease his pain. In the end, the misery consumed him. But now, now she stood before him. He reached out to touch her golden hair. She seemed frozen, as if she were a statue caught between the past and the present.

  But when he leaned into her, her skin was so warm, so soft, so filled with life… He dared move closer, needing to touch her lips, needing to feel once more the love he had known with her before they crossed over to the other side.

  She had waited for him, and now he was here, and he was ready to die with her.

  And heaven help him, but when her lips parted and his tongue delved inside, he couldn’t do anything but feel.

  Sybil braced herself, knowing that by touching him again, she was opening herself up to the past she wished to forget. Things could have been so simple had she not opened up the chapters of another life and come to learn the truth about Canon.

  She reached for him, her body reacting to the countless dreams she’d had of him. Her hands wound into his hair, pulling him against her, her head spinning in a fog, uncertain if he were really here or not. When his hot, wet tongue dipped into her mouth, tasting her, breathing in her essence, she knew this was more than a daydream. He was real, and he was warm, and he was pouring his soul into her with his kiss.

  Her hand went to his chest, pushing him off her. “Get off,” she managed as she tore her lips from his.

  “Chloe. I thought you were dead. I died. I must have died.” His hand ran along her cheek, sending a shiver through her.

  “No. I’m not Chloe.”

  “Yes, you are, my love. I thought I had lost you. I thought he had killed you, and our child.” His hand closed over her flat stomach, a look of tenderness filling his eyes. Sybil’s heart pounded in anticipation as his hand moved to rest just below her breast. “My father will pay for this.”

  His words were clear enough, but his meaning was skewed by two hundred years of history. Still, the feel of his hand against her body made her quiver with a longing she wished she could define. There was something in his eyes that called out to her, announcing his sincerity, belying the truth she thought she knew. The Canon whose hand now slid around her neck, caressing the back of it as he tilted her face toward him, was not a killer.

  “Canon.” She managed to breathe his name as his lips came down upon hers once more.

  No! Her mind screamed a protest as her body arched against him. He’s the enemy. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see? All she could see was the glimmer of hope in his human eyes. Her potion was working on him, his skin growing hotter beneath her touch.

  “Ma cherie. I have missed you so.”

  His large body covered hers, pressing he
r against the night’s dewy grass. The wetness seeped into her clothing, reminding her that she was not dreaming. She was awake and in danger of giving herself to the man she had so often dreamed of. She couldn’t do it.

  Again, she pressed against his chest, splaying her hands across its width, attempting to move him, to brace herself, to do something to ease the ache between her thighs!

  “We should think of a name,” he murmured into her ear.

  A name? For the baby? Sobs shook her body as tears spilled from her eyes. “There is no baby. He killed me. He killed the baby.”

  “Then you are an angel,” he whispered against her tears. “You are the ghost of my past, reminding me of the pact I made with the devil. I did it all for you, Chloe. And now you are here with me. Have I died?”

  His lips worked along her cheeks, wiping away her tears, filling her soul with longing as they moved. He was confused, having no notion of the present. He had stumbled into her, and now he thought she was Chloe’s ghost. Her magic had worked, and the rigid cock pressing against her stomach was proof of his arousal.

  What would be so bad about giving in to him? What would be so bad about doing what she had longed to do for so many nights? Canon would never know she had sought vengeance or that she had sought to end his reign as vampire king. All he needed to know was that the woman inside her who had once been Chloe needed to be touched by him, needed his kisses as much as she needed to breathe. She had damned herself to this fate. Her deal with the devil was backfiring on her, as she should have known it would.

  Canon slid his hand up her thigh, balling her long skirt in his fist, exposing her skin to the night air. Her pussy clenched with longing as his hand came into contact with her flesh. She hadn’t been touched by a man in so long, and now she was being weakened by the one man she had vowed to destroy. What had happened to her?!

  His fingers moved, seeking out her core, while his lips trailed down her neck, resting in the hollow of her throat, whispering against her in Cajun French. “I love you,” he murmured, caressing her neck with his cheek while his fingers ran along her labia, caused her cunt to grow even wetter.

  She spread her legs for him, giving in to him, knowing she was defenseless against two hundred years of history and a lifetime of love and longing. Her head spun as his fingers dipped into her honey, slowly pressing against her skin, coaxing her to an early orgasm, one she could not control or quell.

  She shook against him, her entire body quaking from the feel of his fingers moving inside her. Her clit longed for that kind of attention as it pouted, her blood pounding inside it, causing her hand to stray down to touch it. Explosions went off inside her body from the combination of his fingers moving inside her and her fingers teasing her clit.

  “You are so beautiful,” he crooned.

  “Canon.” The only word she could manage was his name as he unbuttoned his pants and moved once again to cover her body with his. Tears stung her eyes as he slowly slid his penis into her, filling her with his love, his pain. Betrayal swept through her when she opened to him. She had betrayed herself by allowing him to take her like this, on the hallowed ground where her body had been buried.

  She wanted it, too. There was no denying the power the past had over her. The Chloe inside her needed Canon like she needed to breathe. And for some reason she could not begin to define, Sybil needed him, too.

  “You feel like heaven,” he whispered against her ear as his cock moved inside her. There was no need to fight her emotions anymore. She had lost the battle against Canon, and she hadn’t even fought that hard.

  Giving herself in to the pleasure of feeling him inside her, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations sweeping through her while he loved her in the cool night air.

  * * *

  Last night, she had given him every part of her, betraying herself in the process. Now, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Last night had been a lie. He thought she was Chloe.

  Guilt washed over her as she looked down at his body. She should have killed him last night. Instead, he had whispered something to her, something indecipherable that sounded like an endearment. And she had found herself helping him to her apartment and then placing him in her bed.

  What was she going to do now?

  A moan escaped his lips as he lay on the bed. Sunlight streamed in through her window, making her realize this was the first time in over two hundred years that his pale skin had been kissed by morning’s light. It accented his strong jaw line, a jaw that would have been handsome had it been washed with natural color instead of the pale hue of death. Black clouds lined his eyes, which were framed with the longest set of dark lashes she had ever seen. His hair was worn long, probably as he had worn it so long ago when he had made his pact with the devil. She could almost picture him now, the thick, dark hair blowing wildly in the wind as the deal was struck.

  In his sleep, he didn’t look like a killer. Instead, he looked like a lonely, lost soul who desperately needed saving.

  You did this to him. Her conscience was going to drive her crazy if she didn’t get a handle on this situation soon. He had done this to himself. He was the one who had chosen to become a killer, a devil himself. She owed him nothing.

  “Chloe.” A moan barely escaped his lips and caused her to freeze where she stood.

  His lashes fluttered open, and he stared up at her blankly as she twisted a wet towel in her fingers. He made a motion toward the window, then closed his eyes.

  “It’s the sunlight. Is it bothering you?”

  “Too bright.” His voice was scratchy when it came out, as if it had been buried somewhere deep inside his body for a long time.

  “I’ll close them. I suppose it’s been a long time since you’ve seen the sun.”

  “Yesterday.” He smiled, again stopping her in her tracks. When he smiled, his lips turned up in a surprisingly appealing way. Shaking off the feel of his lips against hers, she went to the window to close the blinds, concentrating on the motion, doing anything to avoid looking back at the bed.

  “Not yesterday, Canon.” She placed the towel on his head. “For the fever,” she managed before turning away from him again.

  “Chloe, you do not remember?”

  “I remember enough.” She turned back to face him. “I’m not Chloe.” She folded her arms, knowing the defensive stance would offer no protection if he decided to pounce. “I’m Sybil. And you are once again mortal.”

  “I don’t understand.” He pushed the covers back, revealing a chiseled chest that was only partially covered by his shirt whose buttons had disappeared somewhere during their frenzied encounter at the cemetery.

  “It’s not the 1700s anymore. This is the twenty-first century. And you are not a vampire anymore. You can’t kill.”

  His feet hit the floor at her announcement, and he stood up to his full height, filling the room with his massive frame. If he decided to pounce now, there was absolutely nothing she could do. Her voodoo wouldn’t work against two hundred plus pounds of charging male muscle.

  She swallowed hard, waiting for his voice to rise, bracing herself for the anger she knew he would unleash.

  “Sybil.” He tested her name and then finally smiled again. “I had the strangest dream.”

  “I imagine.” Ignore the smile. It will get you nowhere.

  “So you’re saying all those terrible things I remember somewhere in the fog of my head really happened?”

  “I don’t know what’s inside your head. All I know is that you are no longer one of the undead.”

  “And you did this to me?”

  The room became even smaller as he neared her. There was only a breath between them now, and Sybil’s voice seemed caught in her throat. She cleared the cobwebs. “Yes. I did it.”

  He pounced now, but instead of the brutal assault she had expected, his arms encircled her and pulled her flush against his chest, which was much harder than she had imagined. Her body practically hummed at the contact, once again fi
lling her with unwanted feelings, memories of her past with him slamming against her as his fingers danced up her arms.

  “Thank you,” he whispered against her hair.

  She tried to shake off the familiar feeling as his hand slipped into her hair and closed around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him, completing the embrace, making her a captive inside his warm hold.

  “Let go of me,” she managed as she pulled away, pretending she had no desire to be in his arms. Luckily, when she struggled against him, he released her. If he hadn’t, she would have lost herself in his warm eyes, eyes she remembered seeing fill with love in another place and time.

  “Thank you, Sybil. But why did you do it? Why did you save me?”

  “I didn’t save you, you bastard. I gave you what you deserved.” It took every ounce of strength she had to throw the venomous words at him. Raising her chin in sure defiance, she looked up at him, expecting again to see anger on his face. Instead, humor resided there.

  “I’ll take that, then. I do deserve to be damned. I suppose I am now. But the truth is, you saved me. Whether you want to believe it or not, you set me free from a curse I have clung to for way too long.”

  “Well, don’t thank me. That was not my intention.”

  “At any rate, I do owe you my life.”

  When his hand reached out to touch her hair, her breath caught in her throat until she came to her senses enough to pull away from him. “You owe me nothing. Now that you’re cured, you can get out of here.”

  “And go where?”

  “To your house. I’m sure you have one.”

  “Actually, no, I don’t. I just got back into town.” Finally, his face held a hint of evil. But this kind of evil wasn’t the kill the people you love kind. No, this was the come over here, little girl, and see what I’ve got up my sleeve kind.

  “Well, you’re going to have to find some place to stay because you can’t stay here.”

  “Point taken. I appreciate the use of your bed.”

  She ignored the twinkle in his eyes, even if it made them appear greener than they had before. “Don’t get used to it.” Her attempt to push past him and leave the room failed when his hand closed over her arm and stopped her in her tracks. She looked up into his eyes, wondering if she could go through with this. The last thing she needed in her life was a reformed vampire who had the power to make her melt with a single touch. With his hand gently wrapped around her arm, it was tempting to just fall into him like she had last night.