by Cat Devon
They were interrupted by the sound of an organ playing the opening notes from Phantom of the Opera.
Bruce’s face lit up. “I love this musical. Do you have the original Broadway cast version or a newer version? My fave Phantom is Michael Crawford hands down.”
Confused, Zoe said, “I don’t have any version.”
“It’s coming from the floor vents,” Damon said.
“They like Phantom of the Opera.” Bruce shook his head in amazement. “How bad can they be?”
“Very bad,” Damon said. “What part of they’re demons do you not understand?”
“The part where we have to destroy them,” Bruce said.
“You don’t have to destroy them. I do,” Damon said.
“That seems rather harsh,” Bruce said.
Damon eyed Zoe’s grandmother suspiciously. “What have you been telling him? Have you enchanted him or something?”
“No, I was enchanting before I came here.” Bruce’s grin faded when he saw the fierce expression on Damon’s face. “I was just expressing an opinion.”
“A stupid one,” Damon growled.
“Don’t mind him,” Gram told Bruce with a sympathetic pat to his arm. “He’s crabby because he really wants to kiss Zoe instead of chasing demons.”
“You’re all crazy,” Bella declared with a swish of her tail. “I need a nap.”
“Me, too,” Gram said, setting the tray on the coffee table and taking one cupcake and a mug of tea with her.
Zoe figured that was just an excuse to leave them alone. Gram never took as many naps as she had since they’d gotten to Vamptown. But then she’d never had to deal with a bunch of pissed-off vampires before, either.
Zoe knew it was very draining and she was much younger than her grandmother.
“How are you going to sleep with that music blaring?” Damon called after her, but Gram ignored him.
“It’s not ‘that music.’ It is one of the finest musicals ever written,” Bruce said reverently. “It’s almost as if they are playing it just for me.”
“They sure as hell aren’t playing it for me,” Damon said. Going over to the nearest floor vent, he stomped on it. “Shut up down there!”
Bruce left in a huff. “I’m not staying here with such an unappreciative audience. I’m going to the bar and see if it is playing there.”
“You do that,” Damon called after him.
As soon as Bruce left, the organ music stopped.
“Finally,” Damon said.
“Is ‘Dixie’ more your kind of song?” Zoe asked him.
“‘Dixie’ is a Reb song,” he retorted.
Zoe welcomed the ringtone of her smartphone. The number was listed as UNKNOWN. “Hello?”
“Enjoying the show, dearie?” Silas asked.
“How did you get a phone?” she demanded.
“Guy picked one up during his brief time at the funeral home,” Silas said.
“That’s stealing.”
“Which is a sin and I shall be sent to hell for it. But wait, I’ve already been sent to hell,” Silas noted sarcastically.
“Who are you talking to?” Damon demanded. “Something is blocking me being able to hear anything they’re saying.”
“Tell the Demon Hunter that’s a little trick of mine,” Silas said before adding, “I hope you both enjoy the next song. I chose it just for you two lovebirds.”
Silas hung up before she could say a word.
“What did he want?” Damon said.
“He said that he was using a trick to block you from hearing him speaking to me and that he hopes we both enjoy the next song.” She left out the “lovebirds” part. No sense in stirring up more trouble.
She got goose bumps as a male voice started singing “The Music of the Night” from Phantom of the Opera.
Suddenly the lyrics took on a new meaning given her current situation. The demons weren’t the only darkness. Damon represented forbidden darkness as well. Not evil, but the sexy edge of darkness.
“All we need is a chandelier. And a gondola. And most important of all … a mask,” Bella said dramatically. “Oh, the stories I could tell you about the masked balls at the Winter Palace. Catherine the Great loved a good party.”
The feel of her bangle vibrating against her wrist again distracted Zoe.
Angry at being ignored, Bella took a bite of the devil’s food cupcake and ran off with a chunk of frosting in her mouth.
Before Zoe could reprimand her familiar, her arm shot out so that her wrist rested on the small of Damon’s back.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“It’s not me, it’s the bangle.”
“You don’t take responsibility for anything, do you.”
His accusation stung and she tried to pull away, but the power of the bangle was too much for her. She couldn’t remove the bangle, either. “Take off your shirt.”
“This music really does get to you,” he said. “Far be it from me to interfere with your fantasies.”
She had to tug his shirt out from beneath the bangle.
“You must have a tattoo in Latin,” she said. She was facing him, so it was hard to look around him.
“I don’t have any tats on my cheek,” he said.
She looked up at his face. “I know that.”
“I meant my other cheek.” He tilted his head downward.
Only then did she realize that her fingers were beneath the waistband of his black jeans and her fingertips were on his butt.
The song went on about savoring sensation before rising in crescendo.
That wasn’t the only thing rising. Pressed up against Damon, she could feel his throbbing arousal.
She felt helpless against the powerful attraction flaring between them. She should move her fingers to someplace safer, but the bangle held her captive just as Damon’s dark blue eyes did.
She nervously licked her lips.
Damon groaned and lowered his head to lick her lips himself. The touch of his tongue tantalized her into parting her lips to allow him access. He made the most of it by delving into a kiss so passionate, her toes actually curled and her knees almost buckled.
His tongue tangled with hers, touching and exploring with skillful heat. She’d never felt this way before … yes, she had. The first time Damon had kissed her. But even that hadn’t prepared her for this surge of desire, for the moist need between her thighs, for the erotic fantasies filling her mind.
The song repeated.
Damon cupped her face between his hands as he deepened his kiss.
Was it the music? Was it the vampire? Was it magic? Was it love?
Zoe couldn’t turn away. She couldn’t resist. She didn’t want to. She wanted Damon with an intensity that was undeniable.
His hands shifted to thread through her hair. Tilting his head to one side, he added a new dimension to the merging of their mouths. He moved one hand from her hair down her back to cup her bottom as she was cupping his, tugging her even tighter against his fully aroused body. And when a vampire was fully aroused, he was fully aroused. At least this one was.
“The Music of the Night” played on, as did Zoe’s fantasies. Damon’s naked body hovering over hers on the oh-so-white sheets of her bed as he seduced her with his words and his kisses, tantalizing her with his fingers working their magic all over her body before surging inside her body, focusing his attention on that one spot …
Zoe was abruptly brought back to earth by the sound of Bella’s voice. “Not again. Get a room.”
Breaking off the kiss, Zoe prayed that her familiar hadn’t somehow read Zoe’s mind and seen those fantasies of the acts that would have taken place in Zoe’s bedroom. Ditto re: Damon. She didn’t want him knowing how much she wanted him.
She snuck a peek at him, curious to see if he had been similarly affected. Yes, he wanted her. His arousal made that clear. She couldn’t move away from him because her bangle still held her hand in place.
“VENA
TOR,” he said.
“What?” she stuttered.
“My tattoo. It says VENATOR. Latin for ‘hunter.’”
At his translation, her bangle released its hold on her so she could release her hold on Damon’s butt. She prayed he didn’t notice the slight time lag there.
On a trip to Vegas she’d seen a T-shirt at the airport that said GIRLS GO NUTS FOR COWBOY BUTTS.
The T-shirt should have read GIRLS GO NUTS FOR VAMPIRE BUTTS.
She stepped away and put several feet between them.
“No more kissing.” Her voice was more unsteady than she would have liked but then given what she’d just been through, it was amazing that she was coherent at all. “We need to stay focused. On desire, I mean on demons. Do you think it’s the music?”
“What about the music?”
“Do you think it’s responsible for what just happened?”
“I’m responsible for what just happened,” Damon said. “I don’t need music to make you want me.”
Damn. What could she say to that? She’d probably come up with a perfect answer in an hour or two, but for now she kept her mouth shut and wished she could blot out the memory of how powerfully intoxicating that kiss they’d just shared was. She wished she could blame it on the music, which suddenly stopped.
Her hometown of Beantown was looking better by the minute, but there was no turning back at this point. She was stuck here in Vamptown dealing with demons and Damon. She had to stay strong and not give in to temptation. She couldn’t go to the dark side—the one offered by demons or the sexy one offered by Damon.
She welcomed the knock on the door, but checked with Damon before opening it. He nodded, so she swung the door open.
Bob, Dr. Powers’s follower, stood there. He slapped a piece of paper in her hand. “You’ve been served.”
Chapter Sixteen
Zoe stared at Bob in disbelief.
“I’m a process server,” Bob said. “I did tell you this wasn’t over yet.”
She looked down at the official-looking document he’d thrust into her hands.
Zoe had spent hours doing research on demons and hell. She’d had to face a demon in a funeral home and learned that her mother was accused of using black magic to send someone to hell. Then she’d been kissed by a vampire. Twice.
To top it all off, she had almost used black magic herself … maybe. Maybe the Latin phrases were black magic, maybe not.
That was enough to upset anyone. Even a witch. Especially a witch.
But Zoe’s day had just gotten worse, because behind Bob, Dr. Powers’s process server, was none other than her ex-fiancé, Tristin.
He stood there as good-looking as ever. His light brown hair was a little on the long side and slightly rumpled. That was the only rumpled thing about him. His jeans and light blue shirt were crisp. He was no nerdy absentminded academic. He was a con man … who should have forgotten all about her.
Gram had cast a spell on Tristin to ensure that he’d forget Zoe. Or to be more precise, that he’d forget she’d confessed she was a witch.
“These humans are getting on my nerves,” Damon muttered for her ears only. Then he focused his attention on Tristin. “Is he with you?” he asked Bob.
Bob nodded.
Damon moved toward Tristin. “Who are you?”
“Zoe’s fiancé,” Tristin said.
“Ex-fiancé,” Zoe corrected him. “And I have nothing to say to you.”
“But I have something to say to you. Unless you want me to reveal your secret to everyone?”
Shit. The spell hadn’t worked. Looking in Tristin’s light brown eyes, she could tell that he still knew she was a witch. She opened the door wider to let him in.
“I thought you’d come around to my way of thinking,” Tristin said.
“You thought wrong,” Damon said before moving with vamp hyper speed to slam Tristin against the foyer wall and hold him by the throat six inches off the ground.
“You’re a warlock!” Tristin gurgled.
“Much worse.” Damon bared his fangs at him.
“A vampire?” Tristin stuttered.
“Bingo.”
“Are you going to turn me?” Tristin seemed excited by the possibility.
Damon dropped him in disgust. “No way.”
Tristin scrambled to his feet. “Why not?”
“You’re not worthy.”
“What do I have to do to be worthy?”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“A vampire.” Tristin shook his head in amazement. “Are there more of your kind?”
Damon shot a glance at Zoe. “Is this guy for real?”
“I don’t know what she’s told you about me—” Tristin said.
Damon cut him off. “Enough to know that you’re an asshole.”
“I’m a professor of paranormal activity,” Tristin said.
“Is that supposed to impress me?” Damon asked. “Because it doesn’t.”
Zoe turned to find Bob the process server staring at them as if looking into the gates of hell.
She didn’t regret the fact that Bob was afraid. After all, the man was making her life more difficult than it already was. But she couldn’t afford to have him go out and spread the news about Damon being a vampire. She wasn’t confident enough to cast a spell after her last inadvertent incantation had brought up the possibility of dark magic.
Damon moved toward Bob. Looking into his eyes, he compelled him. “Go sit on the couch and be quiet.”
Bob complied without a word.
“I’ll deal with him later,” Damon told Zoe.
“Are you going to drain him of all his blood?” Tristin said.
“No.”
“So you’re going to turn him?” Tristin pressed.
Damon rolled his eyes. “What is it with you?”
“Zoe couldn’t give me any of her powers,” Tristin said. “But if you turned me, I’d have your powers. The powers of a vampire. Immortality. I want it.”
“Tough shit,” Damon said.
“You can’t compel me,” Tristin said.
“Really?” Damon raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because I have a very powerful mind,” Tristin bragged. “Tell him, Zoe.”
“He’s an idiot,” Zoe said.
“She’s just angry because I dumped her. I’m sorry,” Tristin told Zoe. “Upon further reflection, I decided that I was unfair to you. I know your grandmother cast a spell over me but I had anticipated that. So I had a file about you on my laptop. All about you being a witch, and how you helped me. Unfortunately, I didn’t know to look for it—hence the lapse in time. I was going through some old files on my computer and ran across the one involving you. It may have taken me a while, but I’m here. And it’s not like what I did was that bad. I mean, I could have blackmailed you by threatening to reveal the fact that you’re a witch. But I didn’t. You love me—”
“Loved you,” she corrected him. “Past tense.”
“I don’t believe you,” Tristin said.
“That’s your problem,” she shot back.
“I’m his problem,” Damon said. “Because an angry witch is nothing compared with a pissed-off vampire.”
“What did I do to piss you off?” Tristin said.
Damon tilted his head toward Zoe. “You hurt her. Big mistake.”
“I’ve acknowledged that,” Tristin said.
“Not sufficiently. I can’t decide whether to have you grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness or bray like a donkey.”
“I’ll do both those things if you’ll turn me,” Tristin said.
“Not gonna happen,” Damon said. “Get over it.”
Zoe finally regained enough presence of mind to ask the questions buzzing in her head. “How did you know where to find me? What’s your connection to the Powers people?”
“They came to me,” Tristin said. “They Googled you and found our engagement announcement, which included the nam
e of the college where I teach. They said they needed to contact your grandmother, and I said you always stuck together. If they found you, they’d find her.”
“Why didn’t you come with them when they stopped by earlier?”
“I wanted to see what kind of reception they got,” Tristin said.
“He was afraid you’d turn him into a toad,” Damon said.
“I waited because I knew Bob would be coming back,” Tristin maintained.
“How did you convince him to let you tag along?” Zoe asked.
“I told him that as the man you’d agreed to marry, I could convince you of the error of your ways because you still loved me,” Tristin said.
“Talk about being delusional.” Zoe shook her head. When her bangs fell into her eyes, she impatiently shoved them aside. “Dr. Powers has nothing on you.”
“If I were delusional, I wouldn’t have been able to find you by having a student of mine hack into your social media page and locate you.” Tristin preened like a peacock. “Who thinks I’m an idiot now?”
“I do,” Damon said.
“Me too,” Zoe said.
“Perhaps you don’t realize how much trouble you are in or how bad your situation is,” Damon said.
“Wait.” Tristin held his hand out. “I know why Dr. Powers is so angry. And it’s not just because of what your grandmother did at that meeting.”
“What are you talking about?” Zoe demanded.
“I did a little research on him. Actually I did a lot of research. Did you know he has a degree in rhetoric?”
Zoe nodded. “We know.”
“Did you know that his father’s maternal grandmother’s family goes back to the 1600s in Boston?” Tristin said.
“So? A lot of Bostonians can trace their family trees back that far. Not that all of them are accurate, but they like bragging rights,” she said.
“He’s a blue blood,” Tristin said. “Don’t you get it? His family was around for the Salem witch trials. He has a thing against witches.”
“Does he think we are witches?” Zoe asked. “Did you tell him or his followers that?”
“I may have insinuated that you had powers he’d find helpful in his line of work.”