by Dee Carney
“Rot in hell,” she spat at him.
The elevator opened, putting a temporary halt to their so-called conversation. Music from the lobby drifted their way, Swing Redford’s cover of “Sweet Home Alabama.” He ran the lyrics through his head...better than listening to the inner voice screaming at him on how badly he’d just fucked up.
Giancarlo Sage had been no more than a foot away, his protection in the form of two guards—child’s play—and Victor hadn’t asked him a single question. Hadn’t brought up the werewolves and the slaughtered adolescents. The thought had never crossed his mind to make a good impression, hide his face, anything at all he could take advantage of in a future encounter.
No. He had to go running there like some kind of hero, saving the damsel in distress. Except she hadn’t even been in distress. Hell, for all he knew, she could have taken out the ancient vampire and saved the werewolves a whole lot of trouble. Job done.
Wait a minute...
“How’d you get in there?” he grumbled at her.
“I came well prepared until you messed it up.” The slave gave him a sweeping and deliberate head-to-toe assessment, full of disdain. She then strode ahead of him and through the front door, the smile she gave the doorman wank fodder for the next week.
Did she just insult me? Victor scowled at the stupefied human male, mentally double-dog daring him to hold out his hand for a tip. “Excuse me if I didn’t traipse into my mark’s home dolled up in heels and a dress!”
The slave whirled to face him.
And for the first time, Victor paid attention to what she was wearing. Really paid attention.
Hell, he’d already known she was beautiful, a flawless and priceless jewel. But the dress outlined her body in a very perfect way.
Victor swallowed hard.
It wasn’t just the way the standing collar of lace accentuated her slender neck, the glyph a bright red beacon that made his incisors throb. Nor was it the way the material went sheer just below that, giving a man an enticing view of her cleavage and the shape of her smallish breasts. If she exhaled a fraction too hard, would he be able to see the color of her nipples? Were they dark? Maybe pink? Shit. The dress’s decorations left his imagination wanting satisfaction.
The suggestion of her breasts, the shadows around the curves of her waist and hips, all of it scattered his thoughts. He tried to keep his gaze above her neck, but of its own volition it dropped lower, caught in a snare. Once upon a time he’d been a gentleman, and the remains of that gentleman forced his gaze to other places. But that stupid, silky dress strongly suggested the vee between her legs could be seen from the right angle. If he tilted his head just...so.
“How were you planning to kill him?” It came out a husky whisper after a few tries of getting his voice to work. Throat drier than Arizona in July.
“I came armed.”
“With what?”
She rolled her eyes. “How do you kill a vampire? With a stake.” She didn’t say idiot, but the tone of her voice implied it.
He pushed aside his irritation. And lust. “And you think Sage was simply going to stand still and let you put a stake through his heart?”
“I’m highly motivated. I would’ve done it. Could have until you botched it up.”
“Before, I said you didn’t have the balls to go after Sage.” Victor folded his arms across his chest, enjoying the view of hers. “What I guess I meant is that you must have balls the size of Antarctica.”
Victor was old, but Sage was older. Much older. A vampire didn’t make it to his age and status without having learned how to defend himself against minor inconveniences like delusional blood slaves.
But he had to give her some credit. She would have died, but she would have died trying. He could respect that.
He stared into her eyes, full of passion and a determined fury. What he saw there struck him like a fist. Not just the tenaciousness, but something more. Something he wanted for himself.
Goddamn, she was beautiful.
“You really want to hire me?” He shouldn’t be doing this. He should walk away right now. Leave this human and her troubles for somebody else to manage.
“I do,” she said after a pause. Anger continued to radiate from her.
“What price are you willing to pay?” He still had the lycans to think about. His own troubles to handle.
She stepped closer, her chest rising and falling from her rapid breaths. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight when she whispered harshly, “Any.”
Victor’s gaze traveled over her again, his lower abdomen tightening, his cock beginning to swell in anticipation. He’d give her this one chance and figure out the details later if she accepted.
One shot.
“For reasons I won’t get into, I can’t do it myself.” He held up a hand when she would have bulldozed over his words. “But I’ll show you how to do it...for an exorbitant price.”
“Of course. Anything—”
“My services in exchange for the use of your body. Do we have a deal?”
Chapter Four
Lucy went stock still.
Stunned.
She peered into those assessing brown eyes of his, finding the challenge in them. Victor couldn’t be sure she’d accept, but everything in that arrogant glare dared her to.
Did she really need his help?
The stillness of the night called to her, the threat of morning not yet visible. She pulled her gaze away from him and turned around to look at the building she’d just left. The opportunities she’d just discarded. Up there, Sage congregated with the other vampires. They used humans for their own pleasures, not caring about the damage they left behind.
When she’d started this life, a blood slave in training, it had all seemed so glamorous. The beautiful people who’d surrounded her, all of them wanting to be next to her, had filled her young, impressionable mind. What teenager didn’t want to be fawned over by adults who looked like they belonged in the movies?
Alone and underage, their options had been limited. Go with the vampires or be separated, she and Cindy left to be raised by strangers in foster homes. The decision hadn’t been a hard one to make.
“What do you mean by the use of my body?” she asked.
Victor undressed her with his eyes. Starting at her feet, he slowly peeled away her shoes, separated the material of her dress until it disintegrated beneath the weight of his gaze. Before him, she stood starkly aware of his attraction to her.
Her nipples tightened as if she indeed awaited naked before a new lover. Her body’s reaction was startling, but after so many years of training, she shouldn’t be surprised. Vampires had made her a wanton thing. They knew how to arouse her with just a look, the whisper of a touch, a suggested word. Getting her body to respond physically didn’t take a lot of effort; her mind, however, belonged to her.
“The same services you provide as a blood slave are the same services I want now.”
A chill shuttled through Lucy’s body. It took every ounce of willpower to not curl her fingers into fists, to not scream at the top of her lungs until the breath left her body and she burned for the need for air. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
Victor arched an eyebrow at her. “Am I really that horrifying to you?”
Lucy gaped. “Is that what you think of blood slaves? That we only seek beauty and perfection around us?”
“Ain’t it, though?”
“Had it ever crossed your mind that perhaps blood slaves are more than just pretty ornaments for vampires? We love and want to be loved. Who doesn’t want those things?”
Victor folded his arms across his chest. “Lady, are we going to stand here and shoot questions at each other all night, or are we going to make a deal?”
She didn’t bother to point out that he’d posed another question to her. Instead, she looked away again, using the darkness of night to clear her mind and help sort through her feelings. “You never answered my question. What do you mean
by the use of my body?”
He looked her directly in the eyes. “Specifically? I get to fuck you any way I want.”
“Well that was direct...”
It might have been brutal the way he bluntly left no room for doubt on what he wanted to do with her, but she’d needed to hear it. Still, a visceral response echoed through her. A disorienting sensation she didn’t recognize stirred deeply. Unable to deal with it now, she bade it go to sleep.
“Does that included taking of my blood?” A new surge of emotion pulsed with this question, but she had to know first. Had to know what hell she’d consigned herself to in the name of revenge.
“Of course it does.”
When her stomach churned this time, she recognized it for sweeping and uncontrollable nausea. Lucy swallowed hard several times, fighting her stomach, willing it to settle. “I can’t agree to that,” she said softly.
It killed her to walk away from him, but her blood was the one thing she couldn’t give another vampire. Not willingly.
When he didn’t say anything, an alarming scowl marring his face, Lucy moved away, putting Victor Collins out of her life.
She realized she’d given up her best chance of finding vengeance for Cindy. Although, getting close to Sage earlier gave her confidence she hadn’t had before. With at least a few weeks before her illness became debilitating, she’d find another way to get back at him.
“No blood,” he called.
Midstride, Lucy stopped. She turned, her heart beating so hard and so fast against her ribs. “What did you say?”
Victor strolled closer. “I said, no blood. In every other way you are my blood slave until the job is done. You do that for me, and I’ll show you how to kill Sage. Whether or not you manage it is something else altogether, but I’ll give you the tools you need. What weapons will work, how to get close. If by some miracle you manage to go through with it, the consequences will be one hundred percent yours. You tell no one of our arrangement, and I won’t ever acknowledge that we had a relationship. Do those terms sound better?”
It seemed too easy. “You swear to it? You will never take my blood from me? Never without my permission?”
“Swear it.”
There was no honor among thieves, but mercenaries had a code of some sort, she supposed. If he would forgo her money in exchange for sex, it seemed she walked away with a better deal.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s the problem that I shouldn’t have your blood anyway? Something wrong with you?”
She understood his hesitation. Blood slaves became junkies all the time. The vampire’s bite was considered one of the most sensual experiences a human could have. A person exposed to them on a regular basis would crave them as much as someone could crave a cigarette or chocolate. Precautions were made, but there were no guarantees. A terrible responsibility for a vampire, the junkie would eventually stop associating with friends and family to get a fix.
Then stop going to work. Then stop eating and sleeping...
The sire would eventually have to take the miserable creature out of anguish and put to sleep the body too weak to undergo another dark kiss. Of course, if the vampire Council discovered the human’s death, punishment would be meted out.
“I refuse to bleed for you or your kind again. I was liberated from that part of my life and I’ve put it way, way behind me. You may have my body, using it in almost any way you wish, but my blood is my own. That being said, I do have a timeline that I have to stick to. When would it begin?”
There. Done. An agreement of sorts. Her teaming up with a vampire.
She choked on her fear, on the realization that her so-called freedom didn’t exist. No matter what her previous master had done or said when he’d released her, she was still a slave to their species. Might always be.
What choice did she have though? Victor knew better than she would when he said a mere stake wouldn’t kill Sage. She didn’t have reason to trust him, but truth be told, she didn’t have anyone she could trust anywhere.
“Be sure you know what you want, slave.” She flinched, and he noticed. Those amazing brown eyes grew stormy. “Are you sure you can handle being with me?”
“I’ve handled your kind for many years.”
Victor moved closer, into her personal space. She found it hard to breathe, her breaths now becoming pants. There was no way to avoid inhaling his scent, a spiciness she relished and could have lingered in. It didn’t make sense. His mere presence intimidated her, but he stoked an inner fire in her too. “Not vampires. Me.”
There was such turbulence in his gaze, she wondered how long it had been there. What had put it there in the first place.
Lucy nodded curtly. “No blood, and we have a deal. When does it start?”
“We start tonight. After what just happened, I think we should both lay low and out of sight of Sage and any of his Council idiots. This way, and we’ll get to my ride.”
Growing resentful, she let him lead. Nice that he bothered to ask if she had any obligations keeping her from doing what he wanted. But she supposed Victor was the kind of man used to getting what he wanted, no questions asked.
With every step though, her apprehension grew. “Is there anything I should be afraid of?”
He threw an amused glance over his shoulder at her. “Get more specific.”
“What kinds of things are you going to want me to do for these lessons? I’m used to being treated a certain way.”
“Sorry sweetheart, I ain’t one of these fancy boys with lots of money, big house and jewelry to shower you with.”
“I’m not talking about what can buy me. I’m talking about the way you treat me.”
“I ain’t gonna make love to you.” He seemed to practically be holding back laughter at that thought. He turned around quickly as if he didn’t want her to see the mirth on his face. A little too late though.
“For fuck’s sake, that’s not what I’m talking about.” A different, sudden resentfulness swarmed Lucy. She didn’t expect flowers or candy in a heart-shaped box from this man she barely knew. She wanted his temporary protection and, more importantly, his knowledge. “For starters, how about you ask my name? Because I sure as hell won’t be responding to ‘slave’ or ‘hey you.’”
A flicker of emotion crossed his features. Victor turned and began to stride away. At first she thought he would toss back another biting response, but after gaining several feet, he asked, “So what is it?”
She hustled to catch up to him, almost missing the muttered words. “Lucy.”
That was all he needed to know for now. This wasn’t a long-term relationship or marriage. This was in agreement between two people with one thing in common. She needed Sage dead. He knew how to do it.
They stopped before a classic Mustang, and Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if he meant what he said. “I thought you said you didn’t have a lot of money.”
The car gleamed beneath a streetlight and, peering in, she spotted high-tech gadgetry on the dash. The seating was plush leather, polished to an enviable brilliant shine. She couldn’t spot a water bottle, soda can or even a small gum wrapper anywhere. Based on the interior, the car might have rolled off the showroom floor an hour ago. The exterior suggested he’d invested a pretty penny and a lot of time in restoring the car into something any collector would drool over.
“This thing? It’s the result of a job. When a hire couldn’t pay me in cash, he gave me this. I ain’t rich and don’t want to be.”
She waited for him to unlock the door before lowering herself into the car a moment later. “So you’re always in the business of trading jobs for non-cash payments?”
“None of your business.”
“Fine,” she said, sulking. It would be challenging to get used to this taciturn man, but she would do her best.
Not knowing how else to pass the time, she snuck a few more looks his way, pretending to peer at the passing scenery. It didn’t matter. His good side, the side that made him riv
al a god, was closest to her. What she wanted to see, her itchy curiosity raging, was the droop of his eye, chin and lip.
An imperfect vampire.
Unheard of.
What was the story behind this guy?
Lucy.
In the sky. With diamonds. Nineteen sixty-seven. Good year.
He liked that name. It suited her. The classic name suggested simplicity and a kind of purity. Not the sultry vixen with a heart and determination of a warrior as he’d seen so far.
Victor felt the heat of her stare, as nonchalant as she tried to be about it. Still, he couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t seem disturbed by him. Her assessment was more clinical, not that he wanted to be a rat beneath a microscope. But he supposed there were worse things.
Still, it wouldn’t do for her to start asking questions and like all nosy people, that was exactly what she’d do next. “So tell me about you and Sage,” he said. “Why do you have such a hard-on for him?”
Lucy stiffened as if a distinct chill in the air passed over her. He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her, wondering if she knew how expressive her body language could be. They’d have to work on that. “That’s my business. Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“Sorry sweetheart, I have to know what I’m working with. Are you a scorned lover, does he owe you money or is it something worse than that?”
Her hands were in her lap, one resting on top of the other. At his question, she squeezed her thumb so tightly he thought she would snap it off. “That’s not something you have to know. It’s not something I’m going to discuss with you.”
Victor slammed on the brakes. The modified seatbelt snapped into place, keeping her from being catapulted into the dashboard. He turned to face her. “That’s not how this works. I’m the teacher, you’re the student. I give the orders, you follow them.”
Lucy whipped her head around, glaring at him. He met her gaze directly. Only one of them could be in charge, and he was damn sure going to make certain she understood it was him. She bit out, “What happened to your face?”
Victor stared back. For a long moment, the only sounds inside the car were a low murmur of the radio and the persistent bump of her heartbeat. That she was a human rushed him all at once and when he saw where the seatbelt dug into her shoulder and neck, he was sorry about the force he’d used. “I need to know your relationship to Sage because it will help us determine the best plan of attack.”