Barbie- The Vampire Hunter Boxset

by Lucinda Dark

  One that almost looked human—or would have if it weren't for the sharp talons protruding from her nails and her catlike eyes—stopped and eyed Torin. "What are you having?" she demanded rather than asked.

  "Bloody Mary," he said. "Hold the Mary."

  "Ha ha," she replied, turning my way. "You?"

  "Oh, uh, nothing, I'm good," I said.

  She shrugged and said, "Suit yourself," before moving away to fill Torin's order.

  "What now?" I asked, lifting my voice and my toes as I tried to yell the words into his ear—forgetting for a moment that he could hear me perfectly fine even with all of the noise.

  "Now," he said, pulling me closer as someone tried to plow past behind us, "we find a witch or a warlock and start asking questions."

  "How can you tell them apart?" I asked.

  He scanned the crowd for a moment, searching for something. Whatever it was—a moment later, he found it. “Look there,” he said, gesturing for me to turn and follow his movements. I pivoted, putting my back to his chest as I scanned the crowd.

  Doesn’t this feel nice? I stiffened at that voice that was neither mine nor Satrina’s. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I regained control and when I opened them, I saw what Torin was trying to point out. A tall man with his back to the crowd on the upper balcony. He had long hair—longer than most. It flowed down his back in waves over the outdated waistcoat stretched over his spine and shoulders. The only way I even knew what it was was due to my mother’s historical textbooks.

  I grimaced. “You can tell he’s older,” I said. “But how can you tell what he is?” I asked.

  Torin leaned down, his breath moving the hair at my ear. My heart nearly stopped beating. “You can feel it if you focus,” he said. “Look at him. Target him with your senses—you should have heightened smell, Barbie. Tell me, what does he smell like?”

  I sniffed, but it was difficult with so much in the room. “I don’t know,” I said. “There’s a lot of scents.” Dozens if not hundreds of scents. All clogging up my airwaves. It was nearly overwhelming. I pressed a hand over my mouth and nose as I pulled back.

  “Warlocks are male witches—they smell like their powers. For him, I can tell that he’s a blood warlock. He smells like iron and dust. I can also tell—from how weak his scent is—that he’s not very powerful.”

  “Do you think he’ll know anything about Esperanza?” I turned and glanced upward only realizing then that his drink must have been delivered because he shrugged, reaching for the bar and lifting a flute-like glass—downing the red liquid inside. I watched the movement of his throat—transfixed as he swallowed. When Torin finished, he urged me away from the counter. My eyes were focused on the deep red stain on his lower lip.

  “We won’t know until we ask,” he said. “Let’s go.” He replaced his now empty glass on the bar top—leaving a few bills behind as payment—and pushed me forward. Even though I was still focused on how his throat had moved as he swallowed what had to be blood, he didn’t give me a chance to pause. Instead, he picked me up bodily and moved me to the staircase that led up to the balcony where the blood warlock stood. My mouth was dry as I caught ahold of Torin’s arm and used it to pull him to a stop.

  He frowned as he looked back, stopping halfway up the stairs. “Are you—”

  I didn’t let him finish. Instinct had me lifting myself against him and pressing my lips against his as I licked at the inside of his mouth—tasting the remainder of the blood he had drunk. I groaned and dove deeper. A shiver stole through me as I kissed him. My eyes closed and I pressed him into the railing, wanting to go further and I couldn’t remember—for the life of me—why that was a bad idea. My hands sank into his hair and yanked his head down as I pressed my mouth to his, parting his lips with my tongue.

  Torin’s head pulled back. “Barbie—”

  “Good,” I muttered, shaking my head as I pressed my breasts to his chest and used my hold on the back of his head to bring him back to me. “So fucking good.” I licked the seam of his mouth and delved inside. Fuck, he tasted delicious. I closed my eyes and kissed him, sucking his tongue into my mouth. Torin’s hands clasped my hips, and I grinned when I felt the hardness of his cock press against my stomach. A groan rolled through his chest, vibrating against me.

  It wasn’t until someone tried to get past us, jostling our bodies into the railing as they shoved hard—nearly sending both of us over the edge—and they muttered, “Fucking vampires,” that I managed to pry myself away.

  I turned with a snarl and grabbed the offensive piece of shit by the throat. “Excuse me?” I snapped. “You want to repeat that?” My fangs slammed out of my gums and I flashed them as I hissed at the pale, skinny redhead that had so rudely interrupted us.

  He shook his head quickly, squeaking out an apology. Torin’s hand clasped my wrist as he reached around from behind and disentangled my grip from the man’s neck. As soon as the redhead was free, he bolted back down the stairs and disappeared out of sight. The rest of the club, it seemed, hadn’t even noticed the little worm’s near death experience.

  Torin used his hold on me and pulled me up the rest of the way to the second floor’s landing. Without even looking at myself in a mirror, I knew I was riding my vampire. I knew my eyes weren’t completely human. And for some strange reason, it didn’t seem to bother me as much as it might have before. She wasn’t completely in control. Yet, at the same time, she was in the back of my mind.

  You’re merging, Satrina said, answering my unspoken question.

  “Barbie.” Torin’s sharp bark of my name drew my attention. I craned my neck back as I looked up at him through the darkness of the club and the flashing lights. I could hear him perfectly—as though there weren’t a million and one sounds vying for my attention elsewhere in the room. “Can you handle this?” he asked, frowning as his brows drew down low over his eyes. He glanced from me and back the way we’d come.

  I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I knew one thing for certain; we weren’t leaving until we got answers.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 17

  Barbie

  I strode around Torin and made my way through the crowd. As I expected, he didn't let me get very far. The wall of heat at my spine was Torin Priest and I had to suppress the urge to shiver under what I knew was a very watchful dhampire. My nether regions were in an uproar, screaming at me to turn and shove him into the nearest dark corner and take him as I'd been planning to in the stairwell.

  Your vampire is all about desire, Satrina reminded me. She follows what you truly want. To control her, all you have to do is focus on something you want and convince her that it's what the both of you want the most.

  Got it, I replied. I slowed my steps as I let a hoard of strange looking people with spots running down their arms bypass us. I wanted to find Esperanza. I wanted it with a burning passion. Because finding Esperanza meant possibly finding out how to kill Arrius.

  Calling forth my animosity for Torin's father wasn't an issue. I let it fill me to the brim—let my anger and need for vengeance consume me until it was all that I was. My desire for Torin didn't disappear, I didn't think that it ever could, but it was overshadowed by my present desires and I let them run the show.

  Once I let my demons out to play, I realized, everything else was easy.

  I found the warlock Torin had pointed out earlier. He'd moved away from the railing and now sat in a more reserved section of the balcony. With his back to the wall, he noticed as we approached and stood over the meager group he'd gathered around him.

  "Well, look at that, a vampire and a—" He paused looking me over. "Another vampire?" He spoke as if the phrase were a question. Perhaps he sensed Satrina's presence further down and it confused him. Whatever the case, we weren't here for small talk.

  "I'm looking for someone," I stated. "Name's Esperanza, she's a black witch that lived not far from here—a few hours—have you—"

  He waved his hand, cutti
ng me off. "Everyone's looking for someone," he chortled and around him, his friends gave their own versions of the arrogant laugh. "What makes you any different?" he asked.

  I blinked, lifting a brow. "What makes me any different?" I let a smile spread my lips into a cruel grin as I stepped forward through the small circle of people.

  "Barbie—" Before Torin could finish what he was saying, I had my hand wrapped in the little pissant's front suit coat. I lifted him, turned, and pinned him to the nearby wall.

  "Honey, if you wanted me to show you what makes me different, all you had to do was ask," I said as I lifted him until his feet dangled. I flashed my fangs. "Do you recognize the name Esperanza or not?"

  Torin flashed to my side, his hand finding my shoulder. I ignored it. "You vile bitch—" the warlock snarled, squirming in my grip.

  I sighed. "You're really not paying attention here," I said, giving him a light shake. "I didn't think the question was that fucking hard, or are you just stupid?"

  He tipped his nose up and scowled down at me. "Blood fiend," he spat.

  "Barbie, let him down." Torin pulled me back and my arm dropped. At the same time, the blood warlock's feet met the floor. His knees crumpled and he glanced up and around with his hand on his throat—though I'd been holding him by his clothes and not his neck. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that all of his little friends had beat feet. I grinned.

  "So, what'll it fucking be, sparky?" I asked.

  He got to his feet slowly, righting his clothing. “I think ladies that curse are so uncouth," he said coldly.

  “Oh, you’re not gonna like me then.” I stepped around Torin and he put an arm up to stop me.

  “Barbie—”

  I held up my hand, pressed the whole of my palm against Torin’s lower face and shoved him away. “So, why don’t you do us both a favor, hmm, cupcake?” I batted my eyelashes at the warlock. “Either tell us what you know or cry me a river, build yourself a douchecanoe, and float the fuck away.”

  "I think I'll choose the douchecanoe," he replied before attempting to storm through the two of us.

  My lips parted as I made a loud error sound. "Ahhh. Wrong answer." In a flash, I had his throat in my grip and the warlock pressed back up against the wall. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you walk away without giving me some information, did you?” Once again his feet dangled. It was amazing. Even if he was a few inches taller than me, I had the strength to hold him up and I felt like I could do it for hours without breaking a sweat.

  Supernatural abilities, Satrina reminded me.

  "Right," I said both to her and as a signal that the true fun was about to start. I focused my attention on the struggling warlock. "Esperanza," I repeated the name. "Do you recognize it?"

  "I might," he agreed begrudgingly.

  I waited and when it seemed he wasn't willing to offer more than that I sighed. "Don't disappoint me, sparky," I said, speaking through my fangs. "I'm not particularly interested in drinking from you, but..."

  "The black witch right?" he spat out quickly. "That's the one you're looking for. I haven't heard from her in months. I've no clue where she lives or what she's doing. I swear."

  "Can you lead us to anyone that does?" Torin asked over my shoulder.

  The warlock's gaze moved from my face to his as his eyes rounded in a beseeching manner. "Please, I don't know."

  "Yeah, I don't want to hear about what you don't know," I said. "I want to hear about what you do know."

  "Th-there's a coven," he said quickly, nodding sharply as he jerked his gaze back to mine. "They're in the area. Call themselves the moonlight coven. They might know something. Please, that's all I know."

  Torin's breath filtered over my shoulder as he huffed. "Fine. Let him down, Barbie."

  I frowned. "How do we know he's not lying?" I asked.

  The warlock's eyes widened and his brows drew down as he frowned. "How do you not—"

  "She's a new turn," Torin said, reaching up and removing my hand from the man's throat. He was removing my hand from a lot of people lately. I arched a brow as I looked back at him.

  "What does that have to do with—" I started but he was already answering me.

  "You can tell by his scent and the sound of his heartbeat," he said, shaking his head. "Trust me, he's telling the truth."

  "Your mate's a crazy bitch," the warlock grumbled as he rubbed his throat.

  Without warning, Torin's eyes flashed red and he pressed the man back against the wall with his forearm against his windpipe. "I would watch how you speak about my mate, warlock," he snarled. "She can handle herself, but I will not have her insulted by the likes of you."

  "Got it! I got it! She's the epitome of grace and beauty," the man said quickly.

  As soon as Torin released him, I felt a laugh work its way up my throat.

  "What is so funny?" Torin asked, turning towards me. I shook my head as I laughed harder. “I fail to see the joke,” he said.

  “You—” I gasped, pressing my palm over my mouth. “And I—” I couldn’t stop laughing. The whole situation was just ridiculous. “You really got upset over him calling me a bitch?” Blood red eyes met mine and my laughter dried up. Torin strode towards me, slowly, deliberately, until he stood right in front of me. His hand lifted and his fingers trailed down the side of my face.

  “I don’t like it when people insult what’s mine,” he whispered, his voice deeper—rougher—not completely human anymore.

  That explosive attraction from earlier raged back to life. My gaze dropped to his mouth where I found his fangs peeking out from underneath his upper lip. I dragged my lower lip into my mouth and sucked hard.

  “Barbie…” My name was a warning on his tongue. One that I really didn’t want to heed.

  “Torin,” I said, my breath pumping in and out of my lungs as my chest rose and fell—louder with each heartbeat.

  He leaned closer. “God, you smell divine,” he whispered.

  “Why don’t you take a bite then?” I offered before I could call the words back.

  A lone, warm hand slid up my side and into my hair. He clutched the strands and yanked hard until I was forced to tilt my head back at an angle that allowed him complete access to my throat. Blood sang through my veins, practically calling out for him. I licked my suddenly dry lips and let my eyes slide shut as I counted my harsh breaths.

  One. Two. Three. He drew closer until I could feel the wet heat of his mouth. I wanted it. I prayed for it. Needed it. His lips pressed against my jugular softly. So lightly, it startled my eyes open and I glanced down abruptly as he lifted his head, his eyes shooting me a barely contained look of hunger.

  “Not here,” he said.

  Torin rushed me through the nightclub. We fumbled through the scratched metal side door of the club, slamming into a brick wall across from the nondescript exit. He covered me from hip to breast, his chest against mine, our breaths intermingling. Our mouths met violently as I clutched his shoulders and hefted myself up against him, grinding against the front placket of his jeans. Torin met me with just as much enthusiasm. His palms reached beneath my thighs, gripping and lifting me up even higher until my spine slammed into the wall, a shower of red dust raining down on the both of us as our mouths separated for the shortest instance. That wasn’t nearly enough for me. I drew him back, pressing my lips to his, but the kiss only lasted for another instant before he was moving downward.

  Torin’s mouth traveled to my throat, the soft scratch of his fangs—which before might have had me calling a complete and utter halt to what we were doing—now had me arching my back as I thrust my breasts out, wanting him to move lower. I wanted to feel him bite me. Wanted it with a startling passion that I’d never felt before. I shook my head and found, for the life of me, that I couldn’t clear it. Every thought was fogged over by this intense need—this desire that burned through me, lighting a path of flames along my flesh. I panted, my fingers delving into his hair as he kissed his way down m
y neck to the opening of my dress turned ripped-chic shirt.

  “You’re a firebrand, Sweetheart,” he rasped as he licked at my skin, sending my mind into a delirium. “And I don’t know how you do it, but you drive me to the brink of madness.”

  “Less talking,” I gasped out. “More fucking.”

  I released his head long enough to shove my hands into his leather jacket. I shoved it off his shoulders, pushing until he moved back, dropping me back to my feet. That was when things got serious.

  Torin’s jacket hit the pavement and I reached for the hem of his shirt, ripping that up and off his torso, stopping only when I’d uncovered the wide plains of his chest. With a damn near silent inhale, I touched his abs and trailed my fingers lower. I looked up into his eyes, watching the clear expression of lust expand across his features with a tightness as his lips parted when I pushed my hand into the waistband of his jeans. With my other hand, I unbuttoned and unzipped them, giving myself more room as I found the line of his boxers and moved beneath those as well until I circled my fingers around the base of his cock.

  A growl ripped through the alley, so loud and shocking that I stopped for a moment, wondering if we were about to be attacked by some unknown creature. But it wasn’t a new enemy—that sound was all Torin. It rumbled up through his chest and out of his throat as his eyes burned red hot down on me.

  Hello, Niagara Falls, meet my fucking underwear.

  I had absolutely no time at all to react. He gave me no indication of what his next action would be. One moment, I had my hand palming his erection, pumping it as much as I could with the fabric of his boxers and jeans still somewhat hindering the process. I blinked and my hand was ripped away. I was shoved to the ground, my back slamming into the leather jacket—cushioning my fall slightly as Torin fell over top of me.