Julie. Listen to Noodles. Don’t let this stranger into your home.
When she glanced around, as though looking for the source of the voice in her head, Stefan realized he’d connected with Julie. She’d heard him, and was considering what he’d said. Not wanting to alert Reynard as to his presence, Stefan stayed hidden behind a spruce hedge across the street, and the shadows of approaching darkness further obscured him from their view.
Never before had he connected so quickly with a mortal. Stefan took this as a sign -- a sign that if he seduced this woman, he himself would be hard-pressed to hold onto his own emotions. He must, though, for if he let her seduce him, he’d suffer incredible pain when he had to leave. While she’d have only a vague recollection of their liaison, his own memories would remain crystal clear for all eternity.
Julie smiled, murmured a goodnight to Reynard, and went inside with her astute pup. Waiting, his body tense, prepared for trouble should the other vampire force the issue, Stefan watched the killer vampire stare at her closed, dark-blue door.
Reynard turned slowly on his heel, fixed his gaze directly on Stefan’s hiding place--and dipped his head. A flash of arrogant fang, and then he was gone as though he’d never been there at all.
Fuck. There was no time to lose. Stefan stepped out of the bushes. It was time for him to make his move and become Julie’s bodyguard, up close and personal.
Chapter Three
“Well, we met a new friend, Noodles. You didn’t act as if you liked him very well.” Julie Quill bent, unsnapped the dog’s leash, then scratched her sleek, smooth back. “What’s the matter, girl, did you smell some mean old cat on the man’s slacks?”
Noodles growled, and her hackles rose. Funny, how such soft fur could turn so stiff, so fast. Julie shrugged. No telling what had made Noodles take an instant dislike to Mr. Reynard. The dog generally adored attention. She loved everybody, even strangers who stopped to pet her in the park.
Louis Reynard. The name sounded French, but Julie hadn’t been able to place the accent. The man himself had a compelling way about him, generated a level of sensual awareness Julie hadn’t experienced for a long time. Too long. Though he wasn’t what she’d call handsome, he had a face she wouldn’t soon forget. An interesting face. Well-cut dark brown hair, just a bit overgrown, went well with his flashing dark eyes, a prominent nose that looked as though it might have suffered a couple of fractures over the years, and a sensual mouth she guessed seldom broke into a full-fledged grin. Mr. Reynard’s face would translate well onto canvas. He could have been thirty-five or fifty. Julie hadn’t been able to peg him the way she could most people she met. An investor, he’d said -- but he hadn’t said what he invested in.
The man had fascinated her, so much she’d broken her rule about steering clear of strangers and come within words of inviting him inside. Until a voice -- a strong voice in her head -- had warned her to take care. It was almost as if that voice had come from outside her being...a male voice, deep and compelling, a voice she hadn’t been able to ignore. Maybe...
Noodles barked.
“Sorry, girl, I almost forgot to give you your supper.” She poured some kibbles into the dog’s bowl and refilled her water tank, then sat at the kitchen table and looked out the window at a brilliant sunset.
Julie’s mind kept returning to the man she’d met. There was something about him -- something that compelled her to see him again. Maybe she would take Louis Reynard up on his invitation for drinks and dancing tomorrow night.
* * * * *
Stefan moved stealthily through the night, checking the security of Julie’s townhouse, intercepting her thoughts occasionally when he glimpsed her through glass panels in the sturdy patio door. When she debated with herself as to whether to meet Reynard again, he suppressed the urge to break in, persuade her of her foolishness, make her believe the bastard had designs on her life.
You’ll see that murderer again over my dead body.
The only vampire Julie might be dancing with any time soon would be him. Stefan stepped back from the door. In the morning he’d contrive to meet Julie. For now, he sensed she was safe from the Fox, for he didn’t feel Reynard’s evil presence. Still he stayed, lurking in the shadows, offering the protection of his body against any who might threaten her.
He’d begin the seduction that had become more than a duty the moment he’d seen her face, heard her voice, watched the loving way she handled her frisky pup. He’d stroke the satiny skin of her cheek, her slender throat, taste the sweetness of her full, sensuous mouth. As mortal females inevitably did to born vampires, she’d respond to whatever irresistible force it was that he possessed. She wouldn’t understand the compulsion that would drive her to him, but that wouldn’t matter. Forgetting propriety, abandoning caution, she’d tangle her tongue with his...curl her long, slender fingers around his rock-hard cock...bare her throat with its tempting throbbing vein and beg him to take her.
Somehow he’d stand firm, as he’d resisted in his occasional sexual encounters with humans since inadvertently destroying Tina with his bloodlust. He’d seduce Julie, all right. He’d do it without stealing her mortality. Stefan’s jaw tightened painfully, and his fangs ached. No. He’d deny them both the ultimate satisfaction. He give in, no matter how she might beg. He clenched his fists, clamped down on his lust. She’d beg him to turn her. Take her out of the light and into his shadow world. Somehow he’d resist. He had to.
Stefan’s body quickened as he anticipated the inevitable meeting. Despite his fears, he looked forward to being near her twenty-four, seven, as the American TV commentators often said.
Focus, d’Argent. Your job is to protect her.
That meant Stefan needed rest before he approached her. Concentrating, he found Claude, slumped on a sofa near the elevator in the hotel, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Wake up, my friend. Reynard has just made contact with his next victim.”
“W-what?” Claude sat upright, rubbed his eyes.
“I need you to keep an eye on 28 Delaney Street again for the next few hours. I must get some sleep.”
Claude looked confused. “Reynard?”
“He’s not there now. He contrived to meet her at twilight, while she was walking her dog in Lincoln Park.”
“Oh. All right. You want me to wake you if he shows up?”
“Yes. Under no circumstances are you to confront him by yourself.” Stefan had no desire to have to inform Alina of the demise of a beloved clansman. It would be just like the young, foolish vampire to try to destroy Louis on his own -- and lose. “I’ll be upstairs,” he said, not wanting to come off as maudlin or sentimental.
At least Claude was awake now, and seemed competent enough to handle this short surveillance. That was something. With luck, Alexandre would arrive within the next couple of days. When he did, Stefan would rest a lot easier.
Briefly he considered going to the police. Right. As if they’d believe you if you did. Few cops of his acquaintance admitted beings like him existed. The few that did, didn’t welcome advice from vampires or believe some vampires had the good of mankind at heart. Damn, but he hated having humans look at him and see a creature to be feared and reviled.
His blood surged with fury. Fury that had fired his lifelong quest to hunt down and destroy bastards like Reynard. With every act of violence throughout the ages, rogue vampires had provided mortals good reason to fear them -- and caused them to fear all vampires, even the good ones like him and other members of his clan.
He hated every evil vampire who walked the Earth. No surprise. This recent spree of killings gave him ample reason to want Reynard destroyed. That was business. His business as a vampire hunter. Stefan didn’t deceive himself, however. More drove him than duty or even disgust for the other vampire’s heinous crimes. Vengeance not for what Reynard had recently done to twenty women, as much as for all the evil his kind had caused to thousands more than four hundred years ago. Evil that had indirectly provoked a vampire hunt
that had resulted in his father’s destruction.
The sight of his father kneeling before the headsman, of blood running like water down the streets of Paris, had been burned into Stefan’s soul when he’d been but a child. All the centuries-old wrongs mingled in Stefan’s head with his current dilemma -- how to thwart Reynard, protect Julie from his murderous intent.
He and his vampire team had to destroy the killer before he could strike again, and they damn well couldn’t count on any help from human law enforcement.
Stefan stretched out on the bed, stifling a groan at the bliss of lying down for the first time in days. He felt something underneath his head, and he sought and found the chocolate a housekeeper had left on his pillow when she’d turned back the covers. He held it in his fingers a moment, turning the square from side to side, appreciating the gesture if not the substance of the small courtesy.
For centuries, he’d seen good and evil vie for supremacy in a variety of hearts, mortal as well as vampire. He’d realized the complicated play of the two in every mind. Every once in a while he’d encountered a soul whose light was so strong, there was little hope evil could take root.
Julie was just such a bright creature, an ironic counterpoint to his own darkness. Hardening as he remembered her smile, her kindness to a stranger, the openness of her mind that had let her listen to the warning of her little dog...and of another stranger. If it took his last quivering burst of life, he’d stop Reynard from killing her.
He clenched his teeth, cursing when the tips of his fangs pierced his lower lip. He licked away two tiny droplets of his own blood. It tasted salty, rich, unlike the tainted flavor of the blood rent from his cheek by Reynard’s venomous fang. His hand went up, fingered the bandage that had started his cheek to itching.
Something compelled him to get up, go to the window. With no difficulty, he picked Julie’s house among the row of brownstones cast in eerie light by white lights spaced evenly along both sides of the street. He couldn’t help it. Stefan couldn’t say why, but he felt a gut-deep attraction to her that he hadn’t experienced for years.
Perhaps he’d tell Julie about the danger she faced, once she came to trust him. He might even enlist her help in persuading the police to lend assistance -- arrest Reynard for the grisly murder he’d committed in Atlanta. No, no prison built by mortals could hold a vampire of Reynard’s age and experience. Not to mention that revealing his true nature right away would surely put a quick end to his plan to seduce Julie, win her trust.
He’d have to keep reminding himself that saving Julie’s life was more important than satiating his lust. More important, even, than it would be to satisfy her compulsion to be totally consumed. An obsession all mortal females experienced under the seduction of a born vampire. He’d have to rein in every inbred impulse, satisfy the desire he’d build in her with conventional sex. Under no circumstance could he surrender, no matter how she pleaded. He dared not bestow a vampire kiss.
He wouldn’t let Julie die. Too many women had already paid with their lives for Reynard’s madness.
After peeling off the bandage that had been itching his face, Stefan toed off his loafers and stripped out of the wrinkled jeans and sweater he’d been traveling in for the better part of two days. With a sigh of exhaustion, he stretched out again on the king-size bed. A gorgeous blonde, endangered mortal invaded his mind...his cock. “Julie.” Her name rolled easily off his tongue. Idly, he stroked his rapidly hardening flesh. Blood surged from his brain, flooding his lower body, leaving him light-headed. No woman, vampire or mortal, had ever affected him quite this way.
Julie. A sunny name. A woman born in light, her golden skin kissed by his enemy, the sun. Stefan’s balls tightened in their sac. Heat infiltrated his skin, headier than the flush he always experienced from feeding. He recognized it, welcomed it. It had been too long since he’d let passion overtake him. Too long since thoughts of any particular woman -- a mortal, yet -- had invaded his being, made him want her so desperately he’d spill his precious, scarce seed on the sheets of a sterile hotel room bed, just to find release.
Eyes tightly closed though the room was dark, he wrapped his fingers harder around his rigid, pulsating cock, imagined Julie’s softer touch there.
Her mouth was warm and wet on his throbbing flesh. Silken strands of her hair tickled his thighs. As she licked and sucked him, her fast, shallow breathing played an accelerating, rhythmic pattern along the ever hardening flesh of his cock. Oh, yes. Her hands warmed his testicles, caressing him there, coaxing out his essence.
He wanted to come. Wanted to give her his seed, watch her nurture it. See her bring forth another generation of d’Argent vampires. She’d ensure their immortality for yet another generation.
But not if he spilled his seed in her mouth. Groaning at the sudden coolness when he lifted her, regretting her little moan when she gave up his cock, he dragged her warm, satiny body along his. “Ride me, Julie.”
Greedily she took him, surrounded him with her heat and moisture. Slowly at first, then faster, he lifted her, coaxed her to impale herself again. His sac drew up. His fangs elongated, anticipating...
The pressure built, starting in the pit of his stomach. Stefan’s thigh muscles clenched. His testicles tightened as painfully as if caught in an unforgiving vise. His body strained, bent on gaining release denied it for much too long. His cock swelled against his own fingers, eager to spurt out his seed.
No! Coming now would drain his strength, and he needed it all for the confrontation with Louis. Besides, no matter how much she attracted him, Julie was mortal -- and he’d sworn in centuries past never again to risk a mortal with his raging lust.
He’d make her want him, even take her to save her from Louis, but he wouldn’t -- mustn’t -- lose control and taste her blood. Turn her into one like himself -- or destroy her as he’d destroyed Tina. Trembling, Stefan climbed out of bed and stepped under an ice-cold shower spray. It hadn’t the desired effect, for although his skin prickled and his teeth chattered, he stayed rock-hard.
Painfully hard. This was not the time to let his libido run wild. Stefan forced himself to plan, to plot Reynard’s downfall, to recall his long-ago promise never to risk destroying another human female. Finally, his mind finally reclaimed control of his body and set him free from the arousal he dared not satisfy now. Free to sleep, a surprisingly refreshing sleep filled with dreams of a mate.
When he woke, Stefan stepped to the window again. It was still dark, but only a few hours before morning, he judged from position of the moon in the black night sky. A few people hurried along the sidewalk, apparently heading to early appointments...or late-night assignations. His gaze settled on a flashy looking brunette who’d just left the hotel and was teetering toward the cab stand on the corner in her skin-tight miniskirt and stiletto heels.
A prostitute. In Paris, Hong Kong, or Chicago, they all had the same hardened, brittle look. The same world-weary expression. This one stopped to talk with a man in a dark suit, then hooked her arm through his elbow and let him lead her into a Mercedes limousine idling at the curb.
As the limo pulled away, Stefan saw his opportunity arise. Julie’s front door inched open. Noodles trotted outside, her mistress tagging behind, apparently on a late-night walk for her to take care of business before curling up in her dog bed. Damn. The woman had no sense, venturing out this time of night with no protection but her dog. Quickly, he dressed and headed downstairs, determined to begin the job of seducing Julie -- her mind as well as her luscious body.
* * * * *
What a beautiful night! A bright golden moon rose over Lake Michigan, and a light breeze ruffled Julie’s hair as she walked along, Noodles in tow. Though she disliked going out alone so late at night, the dog had insisted, scratching and whining until Julie had grabbed her leash and given in.
She’d stay close to civilization, on the adjacent street where hotel doormen stood vigil all hours of the day and night. Meanwhile, she’d enjoy the
cool air, the streetlights dotting the night with cheerful color.
When she glanced toward the hotel where her new friend Louis had mentioned he was staying, she saw him.
The most beautiful man she’d ever had the privilege of looking at up close. Tall, dark, with wavy black hair and...she knew even when looking at him fully clothed that he’d have a body she’d love to paint -- or sculpt. His shoulder muscles rippled visibly beneath the v-neck sweater that clung lovingly to well-developed pecs and skimmed a flat belly she imagined would be deliciously ridged. Snug jeans outlined buns to die for, and an impressive bulge that made her itch to fondle him there.
His features were half-hidden in the shadows, but even then she noticed a deep laceration on one cheek that gave him a rough-edged, dangerous look. A look that drew her, made her want to learn what secrets lurked behind an enigmatic smile. Though it was fully dark and she couldn’t tell their color, she imagined his eyes would be a deep, rich brown, like the darkest, most succulent Belgian chocolate.
Julie had always been a sucker for Belgian chocolate. Pity she had to finish restoring the painting she’d promised by tomorrow for a restaurateur over on Oak Street. Even more the pity that her mama had raised her better than to accost a stranger on the street and proposition him then and there, because the temptation to do that nearly overwhelmed her.
What was she thinking? She’d never felt this way before about a man she hadn’t even met. About any man. She couldn’t drag her gaze off him, couldn’t shake the feelings that had gripped her. A feeling that she’d come face to face with destiny.
Damn, but she wanted to paint him...taste him. She longed to stroke the classic planes of his face, explore all the textures in his short, professionally layered hair. Soothe that wound that marred his cheek and caress his chiseled jaw. Maybe...no, she’d felt desire, but nothing quite this intense before. No perfect stranger had ever before made her want to toss away good sense, throw herself into his arms.
Dark Knights 1: Eternity of Darkness Page 4