He reached up to trace her lips with the tip of his finger. “You’re a terrible liar, lover.”
She instinctively stepped from the distracting touch. “Didn’t we come here to find Viper?”
“Someday soon, Abby, we’re going to have a long conversation. It should be quite interesting,” he said softly. “Until then, you’re right, we should be finding Viper and getting the hell out of here.”
Despite a rather childish desire to linger and enjoy the sight of Abby’s unmistakable fit of jealousy, Dante firmly took her arm to lead her toward the back of the room. Not only was this no place for an innocent, but he also possessed more than one disgruntled former lover, not to mention the numerous demons who harbored the annoying opinion that he owed them money.
The sooner he could get the keys to Viper’s car, the better.
Stepping into a shadowed alcove, Dante paused to glance into the long hallway beyond. He was thankful that most of the doors were closed and that none of the perverse pleasures that Viper offered his customers could be readily detected. He was even more thankful to discover Viper leaning casually against the wall.
At least he wouldn’t have to drag Abby through the lowest dregs of debauchery.
“There he is,” he murmured, turning to place his hands on Abby’s shoulders. “Wait right here. I’ll only be a minute.”
Her eyes widened as she glanced uneasily over her shoulder. “What if one of your friends gets hungry?”
“I will kill them,” he promised with stark sincerity. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Her gaze returned to meet his determined expression before she gave a slow nod. “Okay, but hurry.”
“I will.” Brushing his lips over her forehead, Dante turned and made his way toward his friend. Stopping at Viper’s side, he waited until the vampire turned to regard him with a lift of his brow. “Viper, a moment please.”
Flicking a glance toward the waiting Abby, Viper pushed away from the wall and folded his arms over his chest.
“I wish you would make up your mind, Dante. First you insist that your beauty be protected from my wicked clientele, and now you parade her about like a tempting fruit. Unless you desire a riot, I would suggest you take her out of here.”
“Things have changed,” Dante retorted, swiftly revealing the latest attack upon Abby in clipped tones.
A growing frown marred Viper’s brow as he listened in silence. When Dante at last finished, he breathed out a furious curse. “Who would dare loosen such a creature?”
“A reckless fool.”
“A human, no doubt,” Viper gritted, never one to hide his disdain for mortals.
Dante shrugged. For the moment he didn’t have the luxury of time to ponder who might be behind the attack.
“Perhaps. At the moment my only concern is keeping Abby safe.”
Viper narrowed his gaze. “A worthy task; however, I hope that you have a miracle or two tucked up your sleeve, Dante. At the moment your companion is the Holy Grail for every creature in the underworld.”
A miracle? Dante smiled wryly. The closest to a miracle he had was the fact that Abby was still alive and he hadn’t yet ended up on the wrong end of a stake.
“No miracles, but I do have a plan,” he reluctantly confessed.
“One that includes disappearing for the next few centuries, I hope.”
“I’m taking her to the witches.”
A sharp, disbelieving silence descended before Viper was abruptly grasping Dante’s arm and pulling him into the darkest shadows of the hallway.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” his friend growled with a smoldering fury. “The last time you encountered those bitches they leashed you like a dog. This time they might very well kill you.”
Dante shoved his hands into his pockets. Hellfire, he wasn’t an idiot. Or at least not a complete idiot. He was fully aware that if it suited the witches, he could be back in shackles, if not worse.
“I have no choice,” he said stiffly.
“Why?”
“They are the only ones who can remove the Phoenix from Abby.”
Viper appeared far from impressed by his perfectly reasonable explanation. Instead he stared at Dante as if he were considering a straitjacket.
“Now I know you’re mad,” he seethed. “Why would you allow yourself to be bound to another? This woman at least cares for you.”
Dante grimly closed his mind to temptation. He wasn’t by nature noble. Or self-sacrificing. He took what he desired and to hell with morals.
But somehow the rules had changed. Abby had seen to that.
“It isn’t her burden.”
“It’s not yours either,” Viper countered with lethal softness. “Not by choice.”
Slowly Dante turned his head to the slender form hovering anxiously by the door. His lips twisted in a wry smile.
“It is now.”
“You will risk everything for this woman?”
“Everything,” Dante admitted in low tones.
There was a short silence before Viper heaved a resigned sigh. “Madness. What can I do to help?”
Dante turned back with a determined expression. “For now all I need are your keys.”
Chapter 8
Hours later, Dante continued his hunt through the silent fringes of the city. At his side, Abby sat in rare silence as she reluctantly swallowed the herbs he had insisted she drink.
Too silent, he realized as he glanced toward the delicate profile that was tinted silver by the moonlight.
Although Abby was always careful to keep others at a distance, it was unlike her to withdraw so completely. If nothing else, she should be complaining of their futile search for some hint of the witches. Or chastising him for possessing lethal ex-lovers. Or at least telling him how he should be driving.
Instead she slouched in her seat, drinking her herbs and . . .
Dante’s frown abruptly deepened. Was she humming?
Devil’s blood. There was something definitely wrong with the woman.
Slowing the car, Dante carefully cleared his throat. “Abby?”
“Mmmm?”
“Are you okay?”
“I was just thinking.”
Well, that didn’t seem so awfully bad. At least she hadn’t tumbled into some catatonic state.
“What were you thinking?”
“Do all vampires have Porsches?”
He shot her a swift glance of puzzlement. That was what she had been brooding on? The preferred form of transport for vampires?
“Of course not,” he said slowly. “I know several vampires who prefer Jags and even one who wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but a Lamborghini. Pun intended.”
“Ah.” She wagged her finger in his general direction. “I knew there was something suspicious going on. I just supposed that the very rich had sold their souls to the devil. Instead they are all demons.”
“Yes, it’s all a vast conspiracy.”
She actually giggled. Giggled. Then, taking another deep drink, she turned her head on the soft leather seat and regarded him with half-closed eyes.
“Whatever happened to the days when a vampire would skulk through the sewers and live in a damp crypt?”
He arched a brow. “I think they ended about the same time mortals decided to crawl out of their caves.”
“Still, you should at least turn into a bat or have a bumpy forehead. Something vampirish.”
Okay. It was official. Mortal women were without exception the most unpredictable, erratic, insane creatures ever to roam the earth.
And this woman was the champion of champions at driving a vampire insane. One minute she was terrified, the next she was angry, and then, bam, she was all soft and vulnerable.
Still, this giggling, almost giddy mood was a distinct change. He might have thought she was drunk as a skunk if it weren’t . . .
Oh bloody hell. Dante’s eyes narrowed as he watched her down another large gulp of he
r drink.
That was it.
It had been so long since Selena had become the Phoenix that he had forgotten the effects of the potent herbs. Over the years, she had become accustomed to the concoction, but for a time she had reacted with precisely the same woozy silliness.
“Abby,” he murmured.
“Mmmm?”
“Are you drinking Selena’s herbs?”
“Yes.” She smiled blithely. “And you know, once you get past the vile taste and occasional lumps, it isn’t entirely repulsive. It makes me feel . . . tingly.”
“Tingly?”
She abruptly grimaced. “Except for my nose. I can’t feel my nose at all. It’s still there, isn’t it?”
Dante swallowed a laugh as he reached out to lightly tap her nose. She was unexpectedly endearing when she was tanked.
“Safe and sound in the center of your face,” he assured her.
“Good. I don’t like it very much, but I wouldn’t want to lose it.”
“No, a nose is a good thing to have.” He regarded the pale features a moment before returning his gaze to the darkened streets. “And it’s a perfectly fine nose.”
“It’s too short, and it has freckles.”
He tightened his fingers on the steering wheel as he turned onto a tree-lined boulevard.
“Mortals,” he breathed in annoyance. “Why are you so consumed with physical appearance? Not only does it swiftly fade, but it is also meaningless.”
His words of wisdom were greeted with a disdainful raspberry. “Spoken like one of the truly beautiful people,” she groused. “It’s easy to condemn shallow vanity when you look like a Greek god.”
“I merely . . .” He shot her a swift glance. “You think I look like a Greek god?”
“Actually, you look more like a pirate. A very, very wicked pirate.”
A pirate? That didn’t seem nearly as good as a Greek god. Of course, she had said that he was a wicked one.
“Okay, I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You must know you are gorgeous.”
“Well, there is that whole reflection thing, lover,” he said in dry tones. “I don’t spend a great deal of time preening before mirrors.”
“Oh . . . I forgot.” She hiccupped. “Sorry.”
“Not as exciting as having a bumpy forehead or turning into a bat, but it’s at least vampirish.”
She gave a slow nod. “That’s true, I suppose. And you do have the fangs.”
“Yes, I do have the fangs.”
She heaved a faint sigh. “Still, turning into a bat would be cool.”
Dante’s smile faded. She still had no clue of the monster he was capable of becoming. In her mind it was all myths and fairy tales.
“Abby.”
“What?”
“I think perhaps you’ve had enough of those herbs for now.”
There was a short pause before she struggled to straighten in her seat. “You may be right. My head is starting to spin.”
Dante flicked a switch to roll down her window, allowing a gust of fresh air to enter the car.
“Better?”
“Yes.” She stuck her head out the window, breathing deeply. “Do you know, I think that muck might have been spiked.”
Dante chuckled as he slowed and pulled the car to a halt. “Don’t worry, lover, soon enough you’ll be enjoying your hot fudge sundaes instead of spiked muck.”
Pulling in her head, Abby regarded him with a lift of her brows. “Why are we stopping? Are we near the coven?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.”
She blinked in surprise. “You can sense it?”
“Actually, I hope to smell it.”
“Ugh. Do witches stink?”
“Not the witches, but something near the coven,” he explained with a smile. “When Selena would return from her visits, there was always a peculiar scent that would cling to her.”
Abby tilted her head to one side. “What sort of scent?”
Dante gave a shrug. “I’m not sure. I only know that when she would return, I would avoid the house for days. It was very . . . distinctive.”
Abby pondered for a long moment. “A butcher shop? Or tannery?”
He lifted his brows at her naïve words. “I would recognize the scent of blood, my sweet.”
“Oh . . . right. What about an oil refinery or stockyard?”
“No, it was more like a rotting field of wheat.”
She frowned. Dante didn’t blame her. Even for a powerful vampire, a vague smell that he couldn’t even identify was hardly much to go on. MacGyver he was not.
Then, without warning, she reached out to grasp his arm in a tight grip.
“Oh my God.”
Instantly on alert, Dante glanced about to ensure they were not under attack. “What is it?”
“I know where it is,” she breathed.
“The coven?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Years ago, my oldest brother worked at the cereal factory,” she explained. “When he would return, the entire house would reek of rotted wheat for hours.”
There was rotted wheat in cereal? Hellfire. How dare humans shudder at vampires’ preference for blood? At least he demanded it distinctly unrotted.
“It’s worth a try,” he concluded. “Which direction?”
“South.”
Gunning the engine, Dante turned the car southward. There was no guarantee that the coven would be near the factory, but it was at least a place to start.
As silence once again descended, Dante shot a covert glance toward the woman at his side. On this occasion, Abby wasn’t guzzling the potent herbs or humming in a pleasant cloud of fog. Instead her brow was furrowed, and she chewed upon her lower lip as if she were in deep thought.
With an effort, he resisted the urge to demand what was on her mind. If he had learned nothing else about this woman over the past few months, it was that she could write a thesis on stubbornness. She would reveal what she wanted to reveal, when she wanted to reveal it.
It was twenty minutes later before she at last turned her head to study him with a troubled expression.
“Dante?”
“Yes?”
“Viper seemed angry when you spoke with him earlier.”
Dante abruptly clenched his fingers on the steering wheel. He had presumed that Abby had been far too occupied with ensuring none of the guests were creeping toward her neck to notice his confrontation with his fellow vampire. It seemed that not even a hotel filled with vampires and demons indulging in orgies could keep her properly distracted.
“He wasn’t overly eager to hand over the keys to his favorite Porsche,” he retorted in light tones. “He can be annoyingly possessive of his toys.”
“No.” She gave a decisive shake of her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Rather harsh, lover,” he protested.
“He didn’t want you to take me to the coven. Why?”
Dante muttered a low curse. Damn Viper and his poor imitation of a mother hen.
“You could not possibly have heard what was said between us,” he futilely attempted to bluster.
“I know you were arguing and that he was trying to convince you of something,” she charged. “He’s worried about what the coven will do to you, isn’t he?”
“Viper has always distrusted magic.”
“Dante, I want the truth.” She folded her arms over her chest, clearly taking on a don’t-screw-with-me attitude. “Will they harm you?”
He shrugged. “They need me.”
“They did need you, but now everything has changed,” she muttered, striking far too close to the truth. “In fact, I think that we should reconsider seeking out the witches.”
“What?”
“I won’t have you hurt.”
Dante grimly kept his gaze on the empty road. Despite his undeniable flare of pleasure at her concern, he wasn’t about to make this woman into a martyr
.
“Abby, we have no choice.”
“There are always choices.”
His expression hardened at her soft words. “Not if you are to be rid of the Phoenix. They’re the only ones capable of transferring the power to another.”
There was a long pause, and Dante had almost convinced himself that he had forced Abby to see reason when she cleared her throat.
“Then maybe I should just keep it.”
The car dangerously swerved before Dante could regain command of himself. Bloody hell, the woman never failed to catch him off guard. Slowing to a mere crawl, he shot her a disgruntled frown.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he growled. “You haven’t been prepared to become the Chalice.”
She gave a lift of her brows. “Was Selena?”
He grimaced as he recalled his former mistress. Although Selena had been human, she had always possessed the arrogant belief that she was above others. Not surprising for the daughter of a duke who considered himself on equal footing with his own god. Selena had viewed the power and immortality of the Phoenix as her right rather than her duty.
“She knew what she was getting into,” he muttered.
Abby reached out to lightly touch his arm. “Then tell me.”
Dante carefully chose his words. He didn’t want to add to her terror, but then again, he had to make sure that she understood precisely why it was impossible for her to carry such a burden.
“Can you imagine what it is like to be immortal?” he at last demanded.
“Well, I can imagine it makes life insurance a rather moot point.”
“Abby,” he rasped.
She gave a lift of her shoulder. “I’ll admit I’ve never had reason to give it much thought.”
“It means watching your family and friends wither and die while you remain precisely the same,” he informed her sharply. “It means watching life pass by without ever touching you. It means being utterly alone.”
She offered a humorless laugh. “My so-called relatives could have posed for the poster of dysfunctional families. My father terrorized and then abandoned us, my mother drank herself into an early grave, and my brothers fled Chicago the moment they could escape.” There was a brief silence. “I have always been alone,” she whispered in the dark.
A Vampire Bundle: The Real Werewives of Vampire County, When Darkness Comes, Real Vamps Don't Drink O-Neg, & Hunted by the Others Page 42