“No.” With a rueful smile, Dante pulled her into his arms, his hands running a soothing path down her back. “They have always been here. Far longer than humans.”
“Then why haven’t I seen them before?”
“Because you weren’t looking with those eyes.”
“What?” She blinked before she was suddenly hit with comprehension. “Oh. You mean the Phoenix?”
“Yes.” His hands continued to smooth over her slender back, although he couldn’t fool even himself that it was any longer to offer reassurance. “Most mortals prefer to see only what they desire to see, and of course, most demons possess the ability to keep themselves hidden.”
“Even vampires?” she demanded.
“When we choose.” Hearing a faint hum in the air, Dante turned Abby back toward the narrow opening, locking his arms about her waist. “Watch.”
“Watch what?”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “The dance.”
For a moment nothing could be seen, and then, just as Abby was shifting impatiently, the sun slipped past the line of trees and in the growing darkness the silvery shapes began to glow with luminescent color.
Shimmering in shades of crimson and emerald and gold, they darted among one another, their playful antics creating a dazzling display of color.
“Oh my God,” Abby breathed. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s just that I never expected . . .”
Her words trailed away as if she realized she was about to reveal her instinctive prejudice. His lips twisted in a humorless smile. He couldn’t blame her. She was still in shock from all that had happened. And the demons she had encountered so far had hardly been the sort to inspire warm, fuzzy feelings.
“Beauty among demons?” he finished in dry tones.
Slowly turning, she caught him off guard by pressing herself intimately against him as she smiled deep into his eyes.
“Actually, I’ve already discovered some demons can be incredibly beautiful.” Her eyes darkened, and her hand moved to stroke him in a manner that Dante fully approved of. “And incredibly sexy.”
He growled in fierce pleasure. “You’re playing with fire, lover.”
“Is that what I’m playing with?” she teased.
“Christ, I knew you would be a danger when you finally let loose,” he rasped, catching her tightly in his arms and carrying her deeper into the cave.
Chapter 11
Abby felt . . . what?
Sated, certainly. Gloriously sated.
But it was more than that, she decided as she lay in Dante’s arms and waited for the darkness to become complete.
She felt cherished. Yes, that was the word. As if what had just happened between the two of them had been more than just a means of passing the time or forgetting the horrors of the past hours or scratching the proverbial itch.
Maybe it was because he was a hell of a cuddler, or because he had centuries of practice, or just because he was Dante.
Whatever the case, she knew with absolute certainty she could spend an eternity with her head upon his shoulder and his hands softly stroking down her back.
Her dreamy thoughts were interrupted by a sharp jab to her neck. Lifting her hand, she slapped at the aggravating mosquito. Damn.
Well that was a pissy way to be jerked out of a rosy fantasy.
Probably not such a bad thing, she wryly acknowledged.
How delusional did she have to be to start dreaming of small bungalows, Sunday brunch, and nurseries with a vampire?
Obviously she had endured one zombie too many.
There was another fierce bite on her leg.
“Ow.” She slapped at her calf.
“I hope you’re not into some kinky self-flagellation,” Dante murmured. “I suppose it’s sexy enough, but it never turns out good.”
She sat up and scratched at one of her endless bites. “I’m being eaten alive.”
Although fully dressed, Dante still managed to look sinfully tempting as a lazy smile curved his lips.
“Not guilty . . . for a change.” The silver eyes flashed in the shadows. “Not that I mind a nibble or two.”
Abby might have shivered with pleasure if she hadn’t been busy saving what was left of her blood.
“Mosquitoes,” she retorted, her gaze skimming over his perfect features. Then it skimmed over the perfect hair that looked as if it had just been styled by Sassoon and the clothes that didn’t have a damn wrinkle in sight. It was enough to make the most sated and cherished woman a bit grumpy. “I suppose you don’t have to worry about the nasty bloodsuckers?”
His lips twitched at the edge in her voice. “Mosquitoes have never been a bother, but I can’t say the same for all bloodsuckers.”
She tilted her head to one side, her brief grumpiness forgotten.
“What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Being a vampire.”
A raven brow lifted at her blunt question. “I think you’re going to have to be more specific, lover. That’s a rather big question.”
Abby shrugged. “Is it a lot different from when you were human?”
There was a brief silence, as if he was considering precisely how much truth she could bear before folding his arms across his chest and meeting her curious gaze.
“I have no idea,” he at last admitted.
Abby blinked, not expecting that. “You were born a vampire?”
“No, but it isn’t like in the movies. I didn’t crawl out of a grave and continue on as if I never died.”
“Then what happened?”
His expression hardened as he dredged up his ancient memories. “I woke up one evening on the docks of London and couldn’t remember my name or anything about my past. It was as if I had just been born without the slightest clue of who or what I was.”
Abby frowned at the clipped words. Holy crap. He must have been terrified. It had been bad enough for her to accept she had a . . . thing rummaging around inside her. At least she hadn’t woken up allergic to the sun, addicted to blood, and with her few brain cells wiped clean.
More importantly, she had Dante at her side to ease her fear.
That, of course, was the only reason she wasn’t sitting in a padded room.
“Good God,” she breathed.
“At first I thought I must have been on a bender and that my memories would eventually return,” he said with a grimace. “I probably would have still been sitting on the docks when the dawn came if Viper hadn’t stumbled across me and taken me into his clan.”
Abby had an odd image of kilts and bagpipes. Not at all fitting with beautiful, deadly vampires.
“Clan?”
“A sort of family without all the guilt and drunken holiday brawls,” he retorted.
Abby chuckled softly. “That sounds like my kind of family.”
“Yeah, not bad if you can get it.”
His tone was flippant, but Abby was not foolish enough to believe that it had been easy.
Unconsciously, she reached out to grasp his hand. “Still, you must have been curious about your past.”
His gaze dropped as he interlocked her fingers with his own. “Not really. From my pungent scent and ragged clothes, I could guess I had been one of the endless hordes of undesirables that plagued the city.”
“But what if you had a family?”
For the barest fraction of a second, his fingers squeezed her own almost painfully; then he was once again leaning against the cave wall with that coiled ease.
“What if I did?” he demanded. “I wouldn’t have remembered them. They would have been strangers to me. Or worse.”
“Worse?”
He deliberately held her gaze. “Dinner.”
Her stomach clenched in horror. Damn. He warned her not to forget who, or what, he truly was. Unfortunately, he made it so damn easy.
“Oh.”
“It was better for ever
yone to allow the man I had been to simply die.”
She couldn’t argue. She never had believed in all that Leave-it-to-Beaver crap anyway. There were definitely times when it was better for all when Daddy walked away and never looked back.
She tugged her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knee.
“It must have been so strange. To just wake up and be someone you didn’t even know.”
Almost absently he raised her fingers to his lips. “In the beginning, but Viper taught me to appreciate my new life. He was the one to give me the name Dante.”
It was difficult to imagine Viper acting as a father figure. He seemed so remote and cold. Still, it was obvious that the older vampire had a great influence on Dante. And for that she had to be grateful.
“Why Dante?”
Dante smiled wryly. “He said that I needed to learn to be more a poet than a warrior.”
“Ah, Dante, of course.”
“He warned me that a predator was more than muscle and teeth. A predator must use his intelligence to observe his prey and learn their weaknesses. A kill is far easier when you can predict how your quarry is going to react.”
Abby grimaced. “God, I thought my outlook was bleak.”
He shrugged. “He wasn’t all wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I had been quicker to sense a trap, then those witches would never have gotten their hands on me.”
In a heartbeat, Abby was on her knees and had her hands framing his face. The thought that it might have been some other vampire besides Dante here with her was enough to make her stomach clench with horror.
“And you wouldn’t be Dante,” she said in stern tones.
An odd smile touched his lips. “And that would be a bad thing?”
“A very bad thing,” she whispered.
Without warning, he leaned forward to plant a fierce, possessive kiss upon her lips before reluctantly pulling back to regard her with a searching gaze.
“As much as I would love to stay and play, I think we had better move along.”
Abby stiffened. Move along? Go out into the dark and face whatever creepy crawlies were out there waiting?
It didn’t sound at all appealing. Not when she could think of several other things she would rather be doing in the dark.
Things that involved one sexy vampire and maybe some scented oil . . .
“Do we have to leave?” she demanded. “We’re at least safe here.”
He gave a shake of his head. “No, we’re very nicely trapped here. Especially once the sun rises.”
Abby wrinkled her nose, accepting that he might have a point. “Where will we go?”
Rising to his feet, he reached out his hand to help her up. “First we find the car and then head back to Chicago.”
Once on her feet, Abby made a hopeless stab at dusting off her pants. Stupid, of course. The dust helped to cover the wrinkles.
“Why Chicago?”
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Because Viper can keep you protected while I try and find some means to trace the witches.”
She jerked her head upward, her lips thinning into a line that should warn the most obtuse vampire she was not pleased.
“You’re not thinking about going after them alone?”
Wise enough to sense trouble before it slapped him upside the head, Dante regarded her with a wary eye.
“I am the only one who knows their scent.”
“Not the only one,” she gritted. “There’s something out there that is hunting them. Something that already found them once and gutted them like sushi. A trick I’m sure they would love to show you up close and personal.”
“Graphic, but true,” he conceded. “Which is why I need to get you to Viper.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “And why you won’t go after the witches alone.”
“We can argue as we walk,” he murmured, taking her hand and pulling her out of the cave. “It will make a nice change from your shrill complaints that I’m leading you in circles.”
Abby took a moment to appreciate the faint breeze that stirred the air. It carried with it a scent she could only presume had something to do with nature. She had always made a point of never going anywhere that didn’t have pavement and a Starbucks. It was rather strange to be surrounded by trees and stars.
Not strange enough, however, to make her forget that she was in the middle of correcting Dante’s mistaken assumption that he could go about playing the Lone Ranger while she was around.
“There’s not going to be an argument,” she said in her best third-grade-teacher voice. “You’re not going alone, and that’s final.”
He flashed a superior smile. “I’ll admit you have stubbornness down to an art form, but I’ve had four centuries to perfect my own. You don’t stand a chance.”
Her smile was even more superior. “Four centuries is nothing. I’m a woman.”
“So you are.” His gaze made a lazy journey over her rumpled form. “A beautiful, glorious woman who purrs like a kitten when I stroke your—”
“Dante.”
His lips twitched at her blush. “What? I like kittens.”
She struggled to frown. “You’re just trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?”
“I—” Abby came to an abrupt halt as a cold chill feathered over her skin.
In less than a heartbeat, Dante was at her side, his body coiled and prepared to strike. All he needed was a victim.
“What is it?”
“There’s something out there,” she muttered.
His head tilted up, his eyes closing. For a long moment he remained silent, then he gave a slow shake of his head.
“I sense nothing.”
Any other night, Abby would have shrugged and admitted she must have been imagining things. A brief cold chill was hardly something to get twisted over.
This was not any other night, however, and while she might not be Mensa material, she wasn’t entirely stupid. She wasn’t about to ignore her instincts, which were making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
“I think it’s the same thing that attacked us at Viper’s.”
He gave a low growl deep in his throat. A sound that did nothing to help with the prickles.
“Abominations,” he hissed. “Where?”
“In front of us,” she promptly retorted, and then less certainly she swiveled about. “And I think behind us.”
Dante took a quick glance around before grasping her hand and tugging her deeper into the trees.
“This way.”
Abby had no intention of arguing. Her stomach was already clenched with an icy dread, and her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. At the moment she was quite willing to run all the way back to Chicago if necessary.
Keeping low to avoid the branches that blocked their paths, they scurried through the dark. Dante with his usual elegant silence and Abby crashing behind him like a bull elephant with a tranquilizer stuck in its butt.
Her prickles continued despite their swift flight, at times becoming more pronounced and then oddly fading. She didn’t need her instincts, however, to tell her they were being chased. The living dead were no longer making a secret of their presence, and they stumbled after them making even more racket than she did.
Panting and grimly ignoring the stitch that was ripping through her side, Abby briefly wondered how the corpses could move with such speed. For God’s sake, they were dead, weren’t they? Most of them no doubt killed from an overdose of meat, cigarettes, and beer.
They should be shuffling along like proper zombies, not blazing through the woods as if they were the freaking Kenyan track team.
Struggling to keep up with Dante’s numbing pace, Abby was unprepared for him to come to a sudden halt. Slamming into his back, she was only kept upright by the arm he was quick enough to wrap about her waist.
“Damn,” she grunted, sucking in deep gasps of air. “W
hy did you stop?”
The silver eyes glittered in the darkness, his features set in hard lines.
“I don’t like this.”
Abby shivered, glancing over her shoulder at the unmistakable sound of an advancing horde.
“I don’t particularly care for it either, but it’s a hell of a lot better than those things catching us.”
“That’s the point,” he rasped.
“What?”
“They could have surrounded us, cut off any escape. Why haven’t they?”
Abby frowned, barely able to keep herself still when every instinct screamed at her to continue her willy-nilly bolt for safety.
“Because they’re freaking brain dead.”
Dante appeared stunningly unimpressed with her logic. “They may be dead, but they’re being controlled by someone.”
“And your point?”
There was a pause as his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “We’re being herded.”
“Herded?” It took a moment for Abby to collect a mental image. “You mean like sheep?”
“Exactly like sheep.”
“But . . . why?”
Astonishingly the beautiful features managed to harden even further. “I don’t think we want to find out.”
Abby’s heart sank from her throat to her lower stomach. If Dante was worried, then it had to be bad. Really, really bad.
“Oh God, what do we do?” she muttered.
“I suppose we either stand and fight or try to make a run for it.”
Abby didn’t even have to think about it.
“I’m voting on the run-for-it option.”
“Let’s do it, then.” Tightening his arm about her waist, Dante pulled her upward, planting a too-brief kiss on her lips before tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Hold on tight, lover.”
Abby gave a startled squeak as he took off with a fluid speed that made the trees a mere blur in passing. It was certainly faster than having her blundering behind, slowing both of them to her human pace, but she discovered that the swaying was making her distinctly queasy.
Closing her eyes, she battled back the nausea and concentrated on anything but the rolling ground beneath her.
The rent was due on Friday. She didn’t have a job. At least not one that paid. Unless of course there was something offered for saving the world from some creepy Prince. Her current lover was a vampire who was also unemployed. And her birthday was coming up in less than a month.
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