His shrewd gaze easily pierced the modest demeanor of the younger man, discerning the sharpness to the countenance and the cunning in the pale eyes.
Oh yes, he would do quite well, he decided with an inward smile.
Clearly unnerved by the relentless gaze, the apprentice nervously shifted. “You summoned me, Master Rafael?”
“Yes, Apprentice Amil. Please, have a seat.” Rafael waited until the student had moved to perch upon the uncomfortable wooden chair, then he slowly moved to stand before his guest. “You are comfortable?”
Amil shifted with a faint frown. “Yes, thank you.”
“Be at ease, my son,” Rafael drawled, folding his hands within the arms of his robe. “Despite persistent rumors among the brothers, I do not usually eat acolytes for dinner. Not even those who have dared to practice the dark arts forbidden even to us.”
There was a moment of shock before the young man was abruptly sliding out of the chair and landing upon his knees.
“Master, forgive me,” he begged in unsteady tones. “It was mere curiosity. I did not intend harm.”
Rafael grimaced as the fool threatened to wrinkle the hem of his robes. It had been more fortune than skill that had led him to discover the overly ambitious apprentice slipping from the tower to recite the black spells. His first instinct had been to rip out his throat. Not only would it have been a fitting punishment, but it would have provided him a great deal of pleasure.
But in the end he had hesitated. A man in his powerful position was always in need of faithful servants. And no servant was more faithful than one who knew he was a breath away from death.
“Oh, do get up, worm.”
Shakily the man forced himself to regain his seat, warily regarding Rafael.
“Am I to be killed?”
“That is the penalty.”
“Of course, master,” the man obediently agreed, although his sincerity was open to question.
“Dark magics are not a toy. They are dangerous to you and to those about you. You endangered us all with your stupidity and risked exposing our temple.”
“Yes, master.”
Rafael’s thin lips hardened. “But you are ambitious, eh, Amil? You desire to wield the power that beckons just out of reach?”
The pale gaze covertly flicked toward Rafael’s potent medallion, before recalling he was on the knife’s edge of becoming dinner. Or worse.
“Only if the Prince wills it so.”
“I sense your talent. It runs deep within you. A pity it shall be wasted before it can ever bloom to its full potential.”
“Please, master. I have learned my lesson. I shall not stray again.”
Rafael slowly lifted his brows. “And you believe I should trust your empty promise? You who have already displayed an inbred treachery?”
Perhaps sensing a glimmer of hope, Amil leaned forward, his thin features flushed. “All I ask is a second opportunity. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
“Whatever? A rather rash promise.”
“I don’t care. Just tell me what I must do.”
Rafael pretended to consider the plea. He had, of course, known that the pathetic apprentice would sell his soul. He had depended upon it. In some ways the youth reminded him of himself with his burning thirst for knowledge. But unlike this fool, he had possessed the wits to keep his secret studies well hidden. And the wisdom never to place himself in the power of another.
“Perhaps I could consider being lenient upon this one occasion,” he slowly drawled. “With one condition.”
“Bless you, master,” Amil breathed. “Bless you.”
“I do not believe you will be so grateful when you discover my condition.”
“What do you desire of me?”
With measured steps, Rafael moved to take his seat behind the massive desk. He templed his fingers beneath his chin and regarded his guest with a piercing gaze. The next few moments would decide his fate.
If he was to be acclaimed as the savior of the Prince of Demons or as an arrogant failure. He could not afford a mistake.
“First I desire that you tell me what you know of the Phoenix.”
Caught off guard, Amil blinked in surprise. “I . . . what all creatures of the dark know, I suppose. Nearly three hundred years ago, powerful witches gathered together to call for the spirit of the Phoenix and placed it within a human body. The presence of the vile beast has kept the Prince banished from this world and made his minions impotent.”
“I am not impotent,” Rafael snapped in annoyance.
“I do not understand.” Amil regarded the older wizard with a wary frown. “Why do we speak of the Phoenix?”
“Because it keeps us from our true master.”
The younger man shrugged. “He has been lost to us. What can we do?”
Rafael barely restrained his flare of fury.
Fools. The lot of them. While he had toiled and sacrificed to return his dark lord, the others had allowed despair to overwhelm them. No longer were they proud beasts who inspired fear and loathing among mortals. Instead they scuttled in the shadows like rabid animals.
They disgusted him.
“No, my son. The Prince has not entirely been lost to the world.”
“What are you saying?”
“The vessel has been destroyed. The witches no longer have control of the Phoenix.”
The pale eyes widened in shock. “It’s a miracle.”
“Indeed.”
The apprentice gripped the arms of his chair. “The Prince will soon be freed.”
“No.” Rafael’s voice was harsh. “The vessel placed the spirit in the body of another mortal. The Phoenix yet lives, but it is weakened and vulnerable.”
“It must be destroyed. And swiftly.”
Rafael’s expression hardened to grim lines, his thin fingers moving to stroke the heavy pendant about his neck.
“Certainly it must be destroyed.”
“And what do you want of me?”
“I want you to bring the vessel to me. Alive.”
The apprentice narrowed his gaze in a calculating manner. “Forgive me, master, but wouldn’t it be best to call out the minions to crush the Phoenix before it can regain its strength?”
Rafael twisted his lips wryly. Like most who craved power, Amil was far too ready to resort to violence when cunning was needed.
“Certainly a simpler, if more bloodthirsty, solution,” he agreed. “But consider, my son. It will be a great honor for the one who offers up the Phoenix to the master. And I intend for that glory to be mine.”
Amil considered for a moment before giving a nod of his head. “Of course. A clever scheme. But, why me? Why do you not do this grave task yourself?”
“Because someone must ensure that the witches do not interfere. I am the only one with the power to challenge them.” He shrugged. “And, of course, you have tampered with forces that will assist you in discovering where the woman is hiding.”
There was a long pause before Amil folded his hands over his chest, a faint smile upon his lips.
“This is a dangerous thing you ask of me, master. The vampire is certain to be protecting the vessel. I risk more than just my life.”
Rafael struggled to hide his disdain for the man who would barter for power rather than earn it. Unfortunately, he possessed no other servants willing to call upon powers forbidden by even the Prince.
Sacrifices must be made, he reluctantly acknowledged.
Even if it meant being in league with such a pathetic fool.
“So you wish to know your reward?” he demanded in cold tones.
“I am a practical man.”
Sacrifices.
Rafael grimly maintained his composure. “I shall personally take charge of your training. You wish to earn your medallion before all others? I can give you that.”
The smile widened. “And a share of the Prince’s gratitude?”
Rafael briefly glanced down at his hands, imagining them aroun
d the greedy Amil’s neck. Then he gave a small shake of his head.
The future was poised upon the night ahead. He had to do whatever was necessary to ensure the return of his master.
“So be it.”
The younger man rose to his feet, satisfaction engraved upon the narrow features.
“Then we have a bargain.”
Rafael also rose, his own countenance as hard and dark as the stone walls.
“Amil, do not fail me. You have already faced death. If I discover you were unable to complete this task I set for you, then death will be the least of your worries. Do you understand?”
The apprentice possessed the sense to pale at the threat. “Yes.”
Rafael waved an impatient hand. “Then go. You have much to do before the sun sets and the vampire is at his full strength.”
Amil slipped from the room, and Rafael turned to pace toward the fire that burned in the center of the floor.
The Dark Prince would soon be returned to his place of glory.
And he would be leading the way.
“Soon, my lord,” he whispered.
Chapter 6
It was some hours later when Abby stirred from her deep, thankfully dreamless sleep. Lifting her heavy lids, she was at first befuddled by the feel of satin sheets brushing her skin and the shadows that filled the vast room.
She was not the sort of girl who woke up in strange rooms. Certainly not those with satin sheets and an echo that could rival St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Still, it was better than the lumpy mattress and foul stench that had greeted her last time she awoke, she wryly told herself. And with the added benefit of a pair of delicious male arms wrapped about her.
Not a bad way to awaken.
At least it wouldn’t be if those rotten memories of demons, witches, and being invaded by a powerful spirit didn’t come crashing back.
Grimacing, Abby rolled onto her side to study the man who slept next to her.
No, not man, she fiercely reminded herself. Vampire.
Studying the wickedly perfect features in the dim light, it seemed impossible that she hadn’t guessed the truth before. He was every woman’s fantasy. Life had taught her that there had to be a catch somewhere.
Her lips twitched. All women knew that the sort of men who could steal a woman’s heart with a glance had to be either gay, psychotic, or married. Now she supposed she would have to add vampire to the list.
Barely aware of what she did, Abby silently lifted the duvet to reveal the lean, muscular form. Although the jeans rather disappointingly remained, he had removed his silk shirt to reveal a chest that was just as lethally beautiful as she had imagined in her heated dreams. It was broad and smooth with enough chiseled muscles to satisfy the most demanding woman. Lordy, it virtually begged to be stroked.
And thankfully there were no odd bumps or scales that plagued other demons. Not even a tattoo marred the alabaster skin.
“Good morning, lover,” a husky voice abruptly intruded into the silence.
Jerking her head up, Abby took in the slit of silver glittering beneath the heavy black lashes.
Well, this was embarrassing.
It was one thing to walk about with toilet paper stuck to her shoe. Or have lipstick on her teeth. Or even to destroy a priceless Ming vase.
But to be caught openly leering at a half-naked man while he slept . . .
It was downright lewd.
She abruptly dropped the duvet as if it might scorch her fingers.
“I . . . didn’t realize that you were awake,” she managed to croak.
“I may be dead, but not even I can sleep while a beautiful woman ogles me.” His lips curved in a sardonic smile. “Tell me, sweet, what were you searching for? A horn and tail?”
The very fact that she had possessed a furtive need to assure herself he didn’t have any peculiar oddities made her instantly defensive.
“No, of course not.”
“Ah, then you were planning to take advantage of me while I slept, eh? Twisted, but I like it.”
“No . . . I . . .” She wrinkled her nose, accepting that she had been well and truly caught. What was left but to admit the truth? “I suppose I was curious. You seem so . . . normal.”
He stiffened at her reluctant confession. “You mean human?”
“Yes.”
“Are you disappointed or relieved?”
She gave a faint shrug. “After Halford and the hellhounds, I’ll have to admit to some relief.”
Without warning, she discovered herself rolled onto her back with Dante looming above her, his hands planted on either side of her head.
“Perhaps I don’t possess three eyes or have acid dripping from my fangs,” he said, his beautiful features unexpectedly somber, “but you should never make the mistake of pretending that I’m human. I am a vampire, Abby, not a man.”
Her heart stuttered as she stared at the dangerous warrior poised above her. Suddenly he did appear far from human. He was coiled, elegant death that held her life in his hands.
“What are you saying?” she whispered. “That I can’t trust you?”
The raven brows snapped together. “Of course you can trust me. I will die before I ever allow anything to harm you.”
“Then what?”
“I just don’t want you to try and pretend that I’m something that I’m not.” His metallic gaze pierced deep into her eyes. “It will only prove painful to both of us.”
Pretend that he was not a vampire? Holy hell, what was he babbling about? She might pretend that eating a hot fudge sundae was a balanced meal as long as it had peanuts and whipped cream on top. Or that Johnny Depp was her true soul mate if only he would take the time to get to know her.
But the fact that this man was not a vampire?
Ha.
Oddly, however, as she opened her mouth to inform him that he was off his rocker, she abruptly hesitated.
Rats. Could she honestly say that she hadn’t at times during the past few hours attempted to forget the truth of Dante? Times such as during his tender seduction in the bathtub? And when she had clung to him in the dark as if he were her guardian angel?
It was certainly her stock and trade to ignore what she didn’t want to see.
Lowering her lashes, she battled a ridiculous urge to blush. “We should be getting up.”
“Abby, please don’t shut me out,” he said, his voice softening to a dark, pleasant rasp that feathered down her spine. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just . . .”
Against her will, her eyes lifted to clash with his silver gaze. “Just what?”
“I want you to know me for who and what I am, not as some sugar-and-spice image of what you wish I could be.”
“I saw you fight that demon, Dante. I know what you are.”
Surprisingly he grimaced in the dusky shadows. “No, you don’t, but you will before all this is said and done. And that’s what I fear.”
Suddenly Abby understood. This was about more than just her uncertain opinion of vampires. It was about faith. Trust. In him.
“We both know I would already be dead if you were a human. I’d be a hypocrite to wish you to be anything but what you are,” she admitted, a reluctant smile touching her lips. “Besides, my record with men of the human species doesn’t precisely make me anxious to be saddled with one for an eternity.”
His features thankfully softened at her rueful confession. “No knights in shining armor?”
“Knights? More like mooks.”
“Mooks?”
“Well, my last boyfriend dumped me for our mailman, and I do mean mailman, and the one before him stuck around just long enough to steal my ATM code so he could clear out my savings account.”
“Worthless vermin.” He narrowed his gaze.
“Unbelievably they were an improvement to my first boyfriend, who thought the best way to end an argument was with his fists.”
There was a stark silence as he studied her face. �
�He hit you?”
“Only once. I at least learn from my stupidity.”
“Do you want me to kill him?”
Abby blinked, not at all certain he was teasing. “Ah . . . well . . . a tempting offer, of course, but I suppose I should pass.”
He shrugged. “It’s an open-ended offer if you change your mind.”
“Actually, I prefer to simply forget they ever existed,” she assured him.
“A solution of sorts.” His gaze swept down to the fullness of her lips before lifting. “But do you think it wise?”
Abby frowned. Surely to God she was not about to receive dating advice from a half-naked vampire who just happened to be perched on top of her?
A deliciously sexy half-naked vampire.
“I would say it’s at least wiser than having them eaten,” she forced herself to mutter.
“I only wonder if you truly have learned from your mistakes,” he said.
“I’ve learned that I have rotten judgment when it comes to men.”
“Or you seek out those who are destined to disappoint you so that you needn’t worry about an emotional attachment.”
“Oh God, please don’t turn Dr. Phil on me,” she grumped, not at all in the mood to consider he might be right. “The last thing I need is to be psychoanalyzed by a vampire.”
He arched a raven brow. “It is the fact that I am a vampire that gives me some insight. You don’t live among humans for four centuries without learning something of their peculiar habits.”
“Well, you don’t know anything about me.”
“No?” His lips curled in a faint smile. “I know that you hate onions and tuna fish, that you consume your weight in chocolate every day without ever gaining a pound, and that you need a recipe to boil water. I know that you pretend to enjoy classical music but change the radio station to punk rock when you think no one is around. I also know that you hide yourself from the world and that you’re lonely. You have always been lonely.”
Abby dutifully tried to breathe. Unfortunately her lungs refused to cooperate.
Damn him. It was one thing for her to have spent the past three months watching him with covert fascination. After all, she had discovered nothing more intimate than the fact that he was shamefully gorgeous and possessed a haunting skill upon the piano. To think that he had seen so easily through her carefully erected barriers was more than a little unnerving.
A Vampire Bundle: The Real Werewives of Vampire County, When Darkness Comes, Real Vamps Don't Drink O-Neg, & Hunted by the Others Page 40