Although pale, Abby had once again regained her staunch courage. Wrapping her arms about her waist, she gave a determined lift of her chin.
“Where will we go?”
“To find the coven,” he retorted without hesitation. “Which means I shall first have to speak with Viper.”
Her brows rose in surprise. “He knows where the coven is?”
His lips twitched. “No. But he does possess what we need to find them.”
“And what’s that?”
“Transportation.”
Chapter 7
It took Abby less than a quarter of an hour to slip on the clothes that Dante had brought for her and tie back her hair in a simple braid. Not surprising, really. There was nothing like a twice-dead body lying on the floor to kick a woman into turbo speed.
Not only was it disgusting, but the smell was certain to become ripe before long. Something she wasn’t particularly anxious to experience.
Careful to avoid glancing in the mirror at the reflection that was no longer her own, she swiftly brushed her teeth and returned to the outer room where Dante awaited her.
A rueful flare of amusement rushed through her at the sight of him beside the door. While she looked as if she had spent the past two days rolling in alleys, being hunted by demons, and attacked by zombies, he was Versace perfect.
The raven hair was brushed from his lean, alabaster face to flow down his back. The black silk shirt was without a wrinkle as it shimmered over his chiseled torso, and a pair of black leather pants hugged his legs with oh-my-God results.
Even the wicked features were without fault. There were no shadows, no hint of weariness. Not even a five o’clock shadow.
It was damn well unfair, she decided as she continued forward. He could at least have bed head or a bit of sleep crusted in those magnificent eyes.
Oblivious to her ridiculous thoughts, Dante offered her an encouraging smile. “Are you ready?”
“Only in the proverbial ‘as ready as I’ll ever be’ sense,” she admitted wryly.
His pirate smile widened. “Good enough for now, I suppose. Let’s go.”
Together they left the apartment, moving down the hall to the elaborate lobby. Instead of heading toward the door, however, Dante led her toward the curved marble staircase. In silence they climbed to the top floor and toward the back of the building. Only when they stood before a pair of carved mahogany doors did Dante come to a halt.
She was trailing so closely behind him that she nearly ran into him when he abruptly turned to regard her with a frown.
“Look, Abby, I can’t leave you on your own, not when we can’t be certain it’s safe.”
Abby gave a lift of her brows. “Do you think I’m going to argue? After the past few hours, I plan to stick to you like glue.”
“A very nice visualization. One I intend to ponder at length later, lover. Still . . .”
“What?”
His lips thinned. “This isn’t the place for innocents.”
Abby rolled her eyes heavenward. Were all vampires demented? She hadn’t been innocent since the day she left the cradle.
“I’m not a child, Dante,” she retorted darkly. “I don’t think I was ever a child. I’ve seen more evil in my life than most people can even dream of.”
His expression softened as he reached out to brush his fingers over her cheek.
“I know that, lover. It doesn’t mean that in your heart you’re not still pure. Unfortunately at this point, we don’t have much choice. Just . . . stay close.”
Wondering what new horrors could possibly be beyond the door, Abby gave a slow nod as she stepped next to him and wrapped her arms tightly about his waist.
“You’ll have to use a cattle prod to get me off.”
Dante gave a low moan as he briefly closed his eyes. “Bloody hell.”
Abby frowned at his odd behavior. “Is something the matter?”
“If I weren’t already dead, you’d have me in the grave, lover,” he muttered; then, reaching out, he wrenched open the door. “Let’s do this.”
She might have puzzled on his odd words if he hadn’t swept her over the threshold and into a shadowed room that pulsed with the sound of Eastern music.
A sheik’s harem, she realized as she glanced about the circular chamber that was draped in flimsy gauze and spangled silk. About the floor were tossed dozens of large pillows, several of them occupied by a variety of men and women who breathed deeply of the opium smoke coming from the brass braziers.
It was the corners, however, that drew her attention.
Although it was dark, there was no mistaking the writhing forms and loud groans that echoed through the shadows. She may have never attended an orgy, but she certainly recognized one when she stumbled across it.
Feeling her stomach twist with disgust, she clung even tighter to Dante. She had thought that nothing could bother her—well, at least nothing of the human variety—but there was a dark, hungry decadence in the room that made her skin crawl.
It was the hopeless desperation, she decided. That familiar sickness of the spirit that she had battled for longer than she wanted to consider.
Putting an arm about her shoulder, Dante did his best to block her view as he firmly led her toward an alcove at the side of the room.
“Viper will be in the back,” he muttered. “That’s where the—”
Whatever the might entail was sharply choked off by a sudden shriek that split the air, and Dante was pried away from Abby by a clearly furious woman.
Stunned by the unexpected attack, Abby stumbled backward, watching in amazement as the assailant gripped Dante by the neck and lifted him off his feet to pin him to the wall with astonishing ease.
A vampire, she swiftly recognized. Not only would a mortal woman be incapable of tossing a grown man about with such ease, but she possessed that alien beauty that marked her as something more than human.
Far more than human, Abby acknowledged as Dante held out a hand to keep her from approaching.
As tall as Dante, the female vampire possessed a willowy body barely covered by a token sheath of gauze and hair past her waist that contained the rare shade of a golden sunrise. Her face was thin, almost feline with smoldering green eyes and lush lips that could fulfill any man’s fantasy.
And she was clearly in a PMS mood.
Not struggling, Dante nevertheless regarded his captor with a wary gaze.
“Sasha.”
“Dante. Now this is a delicious surprise,” the woman purred. “You can’t imagine how many days I have dreamed of just this moment.”
Abby stiffened at the unmistakable tone. Hell, she wasn’t attacking Dante because he was protecting the Phoenix.
She was his ex.
A startling flare of something that might have been jealousy raced through Abby as she folded her arms over her chest. This was the sort of woman he desired? Gorgeous, powerful, and immortal?
The . . . toad.
“An old friend of yours?” Abby demanded.
“Something like that,” Dante conceded, his lips twisting in wry humor. “Now, Sasha, this isn’t the time for one of our petty spats.”
“Petty?” The woman narrowed her gaze to dangerous slits. “You locked me in a cellar.”
“Obviously you managed to escape. No harm done.”
Sasha gave a low growl. “I was there for three weeks. I had to eat rats.”
“I hear they’re very nutritious.” Dante grunted as the fingers tightened on his throat. “Dammit, Sasha, I wouldn’t have locked you in that bloody cellar if you hadn’t tried to stake me.”
“You know I would never have done it. I was only playing.”
“Playing?”
“You used to like our little games. Remember how you enjoyed being chained to the—”
“Chains are one thing, Sasha, but a stake is quite another,” Dante hastily interrupted. “I didn’t particularly care to stick around and discover where you intended to put i
t. Call me crazy.”
Sasha gave a loud sniff. “It was still rude.”
“You have my deepest apologies,” Dante muttered. “As well as my solemn promise never to lock you in a cellar again.”
There was a long pause before Sasha’s features softened to a seductive pout, and she lowered Dante to the floor.
“I suppose I could be convinced to forgive you.”
“You are nothing less than a saint.”
Allowing the hand that had been choking Dante to smooth its way down his chest, the vampire leaned forward until she was pressed intimately against him.
“Now, do we kiss and make up?”
Abby discovered her fists clenching as the woman rubbed against Dante like a cat in heat. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack Dante or Sasha the Slut. But she most certainly wanted to smack someone.
“Actually, I’m in rather a hurry. I need to speak with Viper.”
The pout became more pronounced. “Always running off. And always with some worthless human,” she accused, her cat eyes shifting toward the silent Abby. “Or is this dinner?”
With a smooth motion, Dante was moving to Abby’s side, his expression stark with warning.
“She’s not on the menu.”
“Predictable.” Sasha’s voice was pure venom. “You really should spend more time with your own kind, Dante. These creatures make you weak.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
With an angry sniff, Sasha turned to stalk away, her ivory curves perfectly visible beneath the thin gauze.
Alone with Dante, Abby shot him a disgruntled frown. “Charming.”
“Sasha’s a bit . . . emotional,” he ruefully conceded.
“More than a bit if she tried to kill you.”
He shrugged. “Every relationship has its share of danger. You admitted that yourself.”
“Not death by wooden stake,” she muttered, still battling the lingering sense of resentment at the thought of Dante being intimate with the beautiful vampire. “The woman was clearly demented.”
A raven brow arched as Dante allowed his gaze to sweep over her stiff features.
“As I recall, you’ve threatened to stake me more than once.”
“Yes, but that was different.”
“How?”
“Because it was.”
“Ah.” Dante’s lips twitched with a flare of wicked amusement. “I think I know what has you in such a twit. You’re jealous.”
She slapped her hands on her hips. Well, duh. Of course she was jealous. Sasha might be dead, but she was still disgustingly beautiful and drenched with the smoldering passion that made men drool.
More importantly, she had managed to ensnare Dante with her seductive skills. Or perhaps it was the chains, a nasty voice whispered in the back of her mind.
In any event, she had possessed what Abby had lusted after for months.
Of course she was damn well jealous.
Not that she was about to admit as much. She did have her pride. For whatever that was worth.
“Get over yourself, Dante. My only concern is knowing how many other ex-girlfriends might leap out of the woodwork. Things are bad enough without vindictive women stalking you.”
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.”
&nb
sp; 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.”
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