She put her soft fingers in his. “Keira.” Her grip was firm yet tender. She smelled light and sweet, like a spring day. She was one of the fey. Elf, most likely. Or maybe a sprite. Didn’t really matter. She was lovely.
“Keira.” It suited her. Strong, yet feminine, like the hand he still held. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles.
“Well, now, aren’t you the fine gentleman. For a demon.” She withdrew her hand and picked up her glass.
“You have something against demons?” he asked, lifting the scotch to his lips. It wouldn’t surprise him. The fey were the snootiest of all preternaturals, most of them looking down on all other prets as if they were subpar.
“Not generally, no. I like to get to know someone before I make a judgment.” She took a dainty sip of her drink. “So, Finn. What do you do?”
“Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that,” he hedged. Part of his…charm was the aura of mystery surrounding him. He nurtured that, encouraged people to think there was more of a dangerous edge to him than there might necessarily be. Not that he wasn’t plenty dangerous, though right now he needed people to be acutely aware of that if he were to succeed in his current…endeavor.
“Oh, a mystery man,” Keira murmured. “I like that.”
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, leaning one elbow on the bar, angling his upper body toward her.
She shook her head and took another sip of her twelve-year-old scotch. “No, this is my first time.” She glanced around the club. “I’m new to the city,” she said, her gaze focused on the dance floor.
“I’d be happy to show you around.”
She looked at him, one eyebrow quirked. “I bet you would.” A slow burn entered her eyes. “What’s a girl got to do around here to get a man to dance with her?”
He grinned and held out his hand. “Your wish is my command, m’lady.”
Her answering smile was full of mischief and flirt. “I thought you’d never ask.” As they walked to the dance floor, Finn noticed how light on her feet she was and how delicate she seemed next to him, though she stood just shy of six feet tall. That still put her six inches shorter than him, even if her high heels had put them almost eye to eye. She was the perfect height for dancing, both the vertical and horizontal kind.
The song they danced to was fast, upbeat, and he found himself wishing for a slow dance. He knew all about the ugly side of life, had been through all sorts of things that could make an hour feel like a year, had done things he could never be cleansed of. She was beauty to his ugliness, soft to his hard, light to his dark. If he put his big, rough hands on her he might break her, yet here he was, wanting to do just that.
As Tori made her way through the crowd toward Dante, a familiar scent wafted her way, one she hadn’t smelled in centuries. She stopped and searched the club before she saw him.
Her cousin Stefan was standing in the back, near the door to the special rooms that vampires used to dine in private. She held up a finger, signaling to Dante that she’d be right there, and walked toward her cousin, placing her drink on the tray of a passing waiter. As she reached him, Stefan leaned his shoulder against the wall, his face in deep shadow. His host body was shorter in stature than the one he had in the other dimension. He was swarthy skinned, dark haired, and dark eyed.
“Stefan!” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then gave him a quick hug. Underneath that thinness was wiry strength. Stepping back, she asked, “When did you get here?”
“Here at the club? I’ve been in the back getting a bite to eat,” he said.
She rolled her eyes at what she could tell was his deliberate obtuseness. “No, here in Scottsdale.”
His quick smile lightened his features. “I’ve been looking for you and your brother. I found out what names you were going by a few years ago and just recently heard you were in Arizona. So…here I am.” He sobered. “It’s been lonely, living all these years without family. I’m so glad I found you.” He reached up and cupped her cheek.
She wanted to believe him, she did. But Stefan was the king of con. “Family didn’t matter so much to you before,” she said, her voice hard. “Rand and I wouldn’t even be here on Earth if it weren’t for you.” The memory of being arrested and summarily tried for crimes they’d had nothing to do with was as fresh as if it had happened five minutes ago. Some things were impossible to forget and maybe forgive, but she had tried. “They took us from everything we knew, everyone we loved, and sent us through the rift. Because of you.” She still hadn’t gotten over the shame of it. As much as she loved him, she’d told no one on Earth of her relationship to him.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Stefan dropped his hand to his side. “Though, on the flip side, you and your brother have had almost a hundred and fifty years to get acclimated here.” He smiled. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
“Yes, well, being a werewolf isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be.” Tori kept her voice low as she glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “You murdered someone, Stefan. A very important someone.”
His lips thinned. “I was…misguided. Perhaps even a little out of control, but—”
“A little?” She leaned in closer. “You call what you did a ‘little’ out of control?”
“But I have a second chance, Tori. A real chance to live my life right. I’ve been doing charitable works, feeding the poor…I know it doesn’t return the life I took, but it has to count for something, right?” He took her hands in his. “I need your help. Your understanding.”
God, she wanted to believe he was sincere. She needed to believe he was sincere. Stefan hadn’t always been so driven. So inflexible. “You realize there are prets out here who plan to kill you? And they mean to carry it out.”
Stefan squeezed her fingers. “Look, let me worry about that, all right? When the time is right, I’ll turn myself in to the council, but I can’t do it just yet. I have…things to do first.”
Her investigative senses flared to life. “What kind of things?”
“Things.” His eyes hardened though his face didn’t lose its pleasant almost placating expression. “I’m not going to do anything to mess up the life you have here, I swear.” He touched a knuckle to the tip of her chin. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
For the moment she would accept him at his word. And for the time being she’d go against her training, against her duty and keep his presence in town a secret from the council until he was ready to turn himself in. He was family. She owed him that much. However, she’d do her best to keep tabs on him, starting this minute. “Come over to the house tomorrow,” she invited. “Or let’s go right now. I know Rand will be thrilled to see you again.”
Stefan opened his mouth but then his attention was caught by something behind her. “I’d love to, but not tonight. I’ll stop in soon.” He turned toward the door to the private rooms.
“Wait!” Tori grabbed his arm and yanked him to a stop. “You can’t say hi and then leave.”
“I’m not leaving town, honey. Just the main floor of the club.” He chucked her under the chin. “We have plenty of time to get reacquainted. I’ll be in touch.” Before she could stop him, he went through the door.
“At least give me your cell number.” Tori tried to follow but was stopped by a beefy security guard who bared his fangs at her.
“Off limits unless you’re a vamp or a donor,” he said. His gaze tracked over her neck and then downward.
She was tempted to say she was a donor, if only for a second, but she really had no desire to be a snack for a hungry, randy vamp. Most of them preferred to dine on humans, but every once in a while there was one who had a taste for pret.
With a low growl, she turned away and decided she’d had enough for the night. Except…there was Dante. The tall sex-on-a-stick detective headed her way, his face set in pleasant but determined lines. It would be an outright slight were she to leave now, and she didn’t want to do that t
o him. She had the fleeting thought that Dante was why Stefan had ducked out so early, but then she dismissed it. There’d be no reason the two men had ever crossed paths.
“Hey,” she greeted Dante when he stopped in front of her.
“Hey yourself.”
He seemed more than pleased to see her. His gaze slid down her body with the same intense focus that Finn’s had earlier, but the demon bad boy hadn’t sent the slow shiver through her that this good-guy cop did. This close, she saw the shadow of stubble over his strong jaw. Her gaze tracked over each of his long, silky lashes and every strand of his thick, dark hair. Before the night was over, she’d get her fingers tangled in that hair even if she had to knock him down to do it.
Dante stared at the back door. “Who was that you were just talkin’ to? He seemed familiar but I couldn’t get a clear look at his face.”
Tori’s heart stuttered. She couldn’t tell Dante who Stefan really was. Not yet. He’d feel obligated to tell someone or inform the council, and she’d be ordered to turn in her cousin. She couldn’t do that. Everyone deserved a second chance, and she believed Stefan when he’d said he wanted to turn his life around. She had to give him that opportunity. “Just a guy,” she said. “A vamp I know.” When Dante didn’t look convinced, she waved a hand in negligent dismissal. “He’s nobody, believe me.”
Dante stared at Tori. She was being cagey, and his first thought was that the other guy was an old lover of hers. Jealousy surged, irrational and unwelcome, but undeniable. He didn’t like the thought of someone else touching her, some other man seeing her face flushed with passion, her eyes glazed with desire. It made absolutely no sense at all. Tori had lived for almost a hundred and fifty years, so he knew she’d had lovers before. Hell, it wasn’t as if he himself had lived like a monk. But damned if he wasn’t green-eyed over every single faceless man who’d ever touched her.
This was not the mind-set to have in order to keep his thoughts off having a relationship with her.
“He’s nobody, huh?” he said, his voice gruff with aggravation directed at himself. If he were honest, the gruffness was because of hard-fought control. That red dress she had on was smoking hot. The front dipped down nearly to her navel, and when he’d first seen her she’d turned and headed in the opposite direction, almost giving him a heart attack when he saw the way the back was cut all the way down to the dip at the base of her spine. It was a dress that just begged for a man to put his hands on the revealed expanse of silky, tanned skin. He shoved his hands into his pockets to try to disguise the growing interest his cock was showing, and he cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
She frowned, obviously taken aback by his abrupt tone. “I hang out here sometimes.” She started to turn away. “Yeah, well, anyway, I thought I’d say hi. Have a good night.”
Dante could almost hear the muttered “jerk” he was sure she wanted to add. He couldn’t let her leave like that. “Wait.” He put a hand on her shoulder and resisted the urge to stroke his fingers across her soft skin. “Tori…Look, I’m sorry.” He could barely hear himself over the loud rock music blaring from the speakers. “Can we get a booth and sit down?” Just as he added, “I’d like to talk to you,” the music stopped and his last words came out loud and clear, turning heads toward them and eliciting a few snickers from those around them.
Tori smiled. Slow, sensuous music started up. “Forget about talking. You can dance with me,” she said and held out her hand.
Even as his rational brain told him to walk away, his pulse picked up speed. Here was a chance to hold her, to feel her softness against him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that getting her in his arms would be a very bad idea, but to leave her standing there would be beyond rude, and he didn’t want to embarrass her.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he drew her onto the dance floor. He put his hands on her waist, then slid them lower to curvaceous hips. Tori was a pret. A werewolf. Her body transformed whenever she wanted it to. She was built for speed and meant to take down prey larger than herself. He knew she had a lot of strength, but it was packaged in silky softness.
She clasped her hands behind his neck, and he felt her fingers sift through his hair. Her eyes fluttered closed, face wearing a mask of contentment. For a few moments they danced in silence. She swayed to the music, her pelvis bumping against his every few seconds, her fingers stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. She sighed and opened her eyes. “So, you wanted to talk?” That voice was the definition of sultry.
There were too many people on the crowded dance floor to talk about what he wanted to. The rift device. Plus, he wasn’t sure he could keep his mind focused on the conversation while she was plastered against him like she was. “Not here,” he murmured close to her ear.
Dante felt the shiver that went through her. She turned her face so that their lips were less than an inch apart. Amber flickered in her eyes and her breath tickled across his cheek. The slight curve of her belly brushed against his groin again, eliciting a resulting hardness to his lower body.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped his mouth onto hers. His entire focus centered on the woman in his arms. Everything else—all the noise, the smells of the club—faded away. His heart thundered in his ears, pulsed in his cock. Her tongue, tasting slightly of chocolate and amaretto and wholly of hot, sensual woman, twined with his.
She moaned into his mouth and pressed closer, breasts flattening against his chest. Dante moved his hands from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her lower body firmly against his. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders.
He reluctantly became aware that the music had stopped. Stepping away from Tori, he kept his hands on her waist and stared down into her eyes, feeling like someone had cut him off at the knees. He was stunned by the primal urge to claim this woman right then and there, in the middle of the crowd.
He’d had no idea he could be as primitive as a Neanderthal. Or a preternatural.
With a smile full of feminine promise, Tori took one of his hands and led him off the dance floor. He trailed behind her, willingly following her lead, feeling just a little off his game.
She slid into a booth at the back of the club and Dante took a seat across from her. She flagged down a passing waiter and in a husky voice said, “I’ll have a Screaming Orgasm, please.”
“I’d like one of those, too,” Dante rasped. He cleared his throat. “But give me a beer, whatever you have on tap.”
“You got it.” The waiter walked off, a grin on his face.
“Chicken.” Tori leaned forward and traced a finger across the table. Back and forth, back and forth. It was mesmerizing, the rhythm.
Made him think of another kind of back and forth he’d like to do.
The waiter dropped off their drinks and Dante took a long draw of his beer. “So, tell me, how’d you end up as a council liaison?” Time to get things back on neutral territory.
While he and Tori had worked together for the past several months, they hadn’t really taken the time to talk about personal things. Keeping the “personal” focused on the job somehow managed to keep it less intimate.
She sat back in the booth. One of her feet bumped his beneath the table and he quickly moved his foot to one side. She sighed and sipped her drink. Her tongue swept out, leaving her lips shiny and inviting. She gave a little shrug. “I needed something to do with my time.”
“And so you applied to be a liaison?” Dante stretched one arm out along the back of the booth. “Seems to me you could’ve found less dangerous work.” He’d decided a long time ago not to get involved with another cop, because if he ever had kids, well, they deserved to have at least one parent who wasn’t in a hazardous occupation. The fact that Tori was a preternatural made her whole life, not just her job, dangerous.
“Like you did?” One slender eyebrow rose. She leaned forward and cupped her glass. “Why’d you become a cop?”
He shifted on hi
s seat. “I come from a long line of con artists. I thought it was time to leave a new legacy.”
Her lips pursed. “I bet you’ve gotten a lot of ragging from your fellow cops.”
“At first. Especially after my granddad got indicted for selling counterfeit goods my rookie year.”
Tori’s mouth formed a perfect little O. Then she pressed her lips together, he figured, against a grin. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. But it was SOP for Granddad. He was in jail the day I was born. And the last time he got sent up was the last time. The old man died in prison.”
“Oh, wow.” She reached out and touched his hand where it rested on the tabletop. “And your parents?”
“My dad had his fair share of run-ins with the law. He was killed in a car accident when I was fifteen. My sister was ten.” Dante rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, trying not to let the memories get to him. “My mom died several years later after a lingering illness. Lily, though she was only eighteen, had been married by that time. I figured she was taken care of, so I joined the army and got as far away from family as I could.”
“But Lily didn’t stay married,” Tori murmured.
“No, she didn’t. I got out of the rangers and came home to find her in an unhappy marriage.”
“Dante, there’s not a whole lot you could have done about that.” Tori shifted on her seat, her foot bumping against his under the table. “She’s responsible for her own happiness.”
“I know I couldn’t have prevented her marriage going down the toilet, but I could’ve at least been there for her, not halfway around the world fighting someone else’s war.”
Secret of the Wolf Page 8