Embrace the Fire

by Spring Stevens

  As she hobbled on one foot with the other curled around her leg, a soft light came on and shed some light on her foe. A Victorian chair sat next to the bed, and clothes were neatly folded and lying in it. She reached for the clothes and stopped. Where was that light coming from?

  Overhead, small lights lined the ceiling. As she stepped backwards, another came on. Stepping to the left, she watched as another came on.

  Her eyes widened as she looked upon Varick. His arm was draped over his eyes, and his hair flowed down the pillows and fanned out from his body. Shirtless and breathtakingly gorgeous, he was the most entrancing male she had ever laid her eyes on. And if she had been in a better situation, she would have let herself enjoy the landscape.

  Damn it, she had to keep looking. He was like a drug dragging her eyes back to the addiction. She groaned in pleasure as his arm dropped to his side and he took a deep breath.

  His abs were a perfect six pack, and his slow breath tightened his muscles and pushed at his broad chest. The tingle in the pit of her stomach from the night before returned, and her knees grew weaker the longer she stared at him. Male perfection!

  A tattoo ran down his left arm from his shoulder to his fingers. It was a beautiful picture of angels and demons. Fire leapt from the angel’s hands, and ice poured from the mouths of the demons. She had noticed the tattoo before but now she paid attention to the intricate detail of the work.

  Each angel held a sword, and each demon held a long staff. They were all surrounded by dozens of red and gold daggers. Across his knuckles, the words “soul reaper” were etched in Latin.

  She slowly moved about the room and took a deep breath. Angelica was amazed to find that the walls were deep purple, almost black, and there were no windows. A large fireplace sat directly in front of the bed twenty feet away. Above the mantel, a large painting hung. Ten warriors from days long ago rode across the Valley of Kings on horseback. The Egyptian attire was carefully painted and stood out against the night scene. The faces of the riders were hidden in shadows.

  She turned to the furnishings in the room. Everything looked like it had just stepped out of a Victorian magazine, right down to the bedspread. There was one exception. The door was a solid hunk of metal, and there was not a doorknob in sight. She stood and ventured to the door and inspected the four-by-four-inch button panel. So much for making an escape.

  She turned to Varick and slowly returned to his bed. Why did he have to be such a gorgeous man? She reached for a book lying on the nightstand. Poetry From the Greatest Minds lay like an invitation. She loved poetry.

  She looked at Varick, pushing her wanton thoughts aside, and picked up the worn book. She made her way back to the chair and curled up as she placed the book in her lap.

  Angelica flipped through the book and shook her head. Everything in its pages was related to death, disease, murder, demons, and lust. She stood and returned the book to the nightstand. As she turned, her head snapped up as Varick’s hand wrapped around her wrist.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” His voice was husky, sexy-deep, and his eyes were still closed.

  Angelica jerked her arm away and glared down at him. “If you are referring to those poems, then no, I did not!”

  Varick chuckled. “They weren’t to your liking?”

  “From what I read, no, they were not!” She turned and crossed the room, afraid she would leap upon him like a madwoman.

  “Life is not all butterflies and spices.” He grinned as she frowned. “Most good poems are about death and fear.”

  “You’re wrong. They are about life’s trials and the heart’s adventures.”

  “Fantasies that lead to heartbreak.” Varick sat up and swung his long, powerful legs off the bed. “Come here.”

  She did not like being told what to do. She shook her head and stared at the painting above the fireplace.

  “I said to come here, woman!” His voice dropped an octave, his hand held out for her to take it. “Come here.”

  Her right hand dropped to her side, and she jutted out her charming chin. “I want to go home now.”

  Varick stood, and Angelica turned to face him. He was completely naked, and his erection bobbed up and down as he cleared the space between them. She swallowed hard as she held her head up and prayed she would not give in.

  “The door won’t open for another twenty-two hours. Until then, you are stuck here with me. We might as well enjoy ourselves.”

  Angelica looked at the door. “Open the door and let me out.”

  Varick grinned. “It’s set to a timer. Now, come closer.”

  Angelica clenched her fists. “This is kidnapping. And who in their right mind would set their door to a timer?”

  “Twenty-two hours and you’re free to go. However, until then, you belong to me.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone. You are insane.” She stepped back as he came at her. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  Varick grabbed her waist and jerked her against his chest. “I didn’t bring you here to argue.” His voice turned to gravel. “Stop being afraid of me.”

  His anger and nerve were intolerable. “What were you expecting? Did you honestly think I was going to be all over you? Get your hands off me.”

  She stiffened as the all too familiar stoic expression filled his face. “You weren’t complaining about my hands being on you yesterday.”

  “That was yesterday, before you kidnapped me.” She shuddered in spite of the heat that had enveloped her.

  Varick spun her around and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, running his fingers over them. Angelica stiffened as her body betrayed her mind. She leaned back, pressed into his chest, and closed her eyes. His arms felt so good wrapped around her body. She could smell him and feel his heartbeat against her shoulder. When he slid his hands down her arms, she caught her breath and relaxed. He was driving her out of her mind, and she wanted more of him.

  His fingers grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Her skin burned, and flames spread through her body as he pressed against her back. When he slid his hand across her stomach and ribcage, she held her breath. His touch was maddening. She melted against him and moaned as he cupped her breast and slid his thumb across her nipple, wickedly teasing her desires.

  Sanity pushed into her mind. “Varick?”

  He kissed her shoulder, dragging his tongue in small circles over her skin. “Yes?”

  “I know Alera is a friend of yours.” She paused as he gently nipped her shoulder. “And she’s a little eccentric, but do you think she’s crazy?”

  “No.” His answer was a whisper as he pushed her skirt to her knees. “She’s one of the sanest women I’ve ever known.”

  “Are you sure about that? She thinks my mother was her sister.” Angelica couldn’t suppress the rumble of desire that escaped her throat. “She told me I was a descendant of a goddess.”

  • • •

  Varick smiled as Angelica raised her free hand and reached up to his shoulder, giving him complete access to her breast. He nipped her shoulder again and squeezed her breast. With his other hand, he unfastened the bra and slipped it from her shoulders. She moaned, and he turned her to face him. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as he leaned down and captured her nipple in his mouth. He licked, sucked, and then gently bit down. Her hands flew to his head and pulled him closer.

  And then it hit him, hard.

  Descendant.

  Mother.

  He shoved her away and turned on his heel. No, he wouldn’t believe it; he couldn’t believe it. He turned to look at her again and grimaced at the hurt look on her perfect, angelic face. She didn’t look like Antonia.

  Angelica had jet-black hair and dark sultry eyes. Her nose was straight and set above her lips like a blessed dais of sultr
y moonlight. The women from Atlantis were all blonde, all six feet tall or taller, all blue-eyed, all slender, and all of them were small-breasted.

  He walked around her five-foot-eight-inch frame and shuddered with appreciation. She was well rounded, curvy, and female in all the right places. She was not like Antonia, didn’t look like Alera, and didn’t resemble any of Amay’s descendants.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her voice was high, a squeak of tension easing out in her words.

  “Alera cannot be your aunt. You look nothing like Amay’s descendants.” The words scolded his tongue, and he hissed in rage. “You’re not a member of the One Race.”

  Angelica’s face twisted with fear. “Varick? Of course I’m not. Gods and goddesses don’t exist. They’re nothing but fairy tales.”

  Did he dare ask? Did he want the truth? “Who was your mother?”

  She eased out of his arm’s reach. “What’s wrong with you? Why are so angry at me?”

  “I’m not angry.” Yet he knew he was roaring and could not find the calm he needed. “Tell me her name!”

  “Stop it, stop screaming at me!” She jerked away as he reached for her arm. “Let me out. Let me go, Varick, you’re scaring me.”

  She backed up as he pushed her back into the wall, slamming his hands beside her head. “Scaring you? Babe, you haven’t seen anything yet. Surely you know I’m raging beast, a menace to this world.”

  She looked up, and their eyes met in a storming clash of wills. “Don’t call me babe.”

  “By the end of the night, I’ll devour you and you’ll like it, you’ll beg for more. You’ll hurt in places you didn’t know you had and you’ll still want me.” His smile was toxic, venom on his lips as he licked them and crushed his body into hers. “Isn’t this what you feared? That I would like it rough?”

  Angelica forced her tears back. “What now? You plan on raping me?”

  He hissed in her ear, grabbed her hands, and jerked them over her head, arching her back in the process. “I won’t rape you because you want me. You want me inside you. I can smell your arousal, the sweet scent of wetness between your legs. Even as you stand here fearing me, you still want to get in my pants, use me to pleasure yourself.” He ran his tongue across her lips. “Your flesh burns for mine.”

  Her eyes narrowed and grew two shades darker. “You arrogant bastard.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, get mad, get pissed, and fight me.”

  A tear slipped free of her control and slid down her cheek. He caught it with his tongue and closed his eyes, savoring the stormy ocean taste of it. She bucked against him, her teeth grinding and her fingernails sinking into his palm.

  “Let me go! Let me go!” she screamed. “You bastard. I should have taken that man’s offer at Tortured Souls and called him. I would’ve been with him instead of you tonight.”

  Something nasty snagged his chest, brought his heart to an abrupt halt. He saw red as he remembered that night with vicious clarity. The way the human wanted her, put his hands on her body, and fucked her with his eyes sent him into a private hell where he was the devil and the human was the bastard he carved into slivers with his bare hands. Never had he wanted a human’s blood like this before. His fangs pushed out, and he hissed above her head.

  She continued to buck against him, and he pulled back as he tried to control the red haze overtaking his vision.

  Not yet, not now. Need more time. Calm. Peace. More time!

  He released her, and she crumpled to the floor at his feet. She kicked his shins and punched him in the gut. Her heated rantings were of little importance as she tried to scoot past his legs. He knelt down with his red eyes shut tightly and pulled her into his arms.

  She clawed at his shoulders and chest. The pain from her nails strangely calmed him, easing his beast for a precious second. It was what he needed to regain control. She stilled and cried against his chest.

  He didn’t know how long they sat there, but her sobs subsided and she finally spoke. “I think I hate you now.”

  He nodded and opened his eyes, the red haze still present but waning. He hated himself for scaring her, for wanting her, for needing her.

  She pulled back and looked up at him before he realized what she was doing. Her gasp was more than enough to make him curse.

  She scooted backwards, ending up with her back against the wall. “Oh, God. What sick game are you playing with me?”

  He swallowed hard and wished his fangs would retract. They didn’t even though he was willing them to. He knew what she was seeing.

  “I am … ”

  She held her hand up and shook her head. “Shut up! I won’t listen to this.”

  He was a Destroyer, a half breed vampire. He knew pain beyond what Angelica ever needed to know. And yet he wanted her to know on some level, needed to share his life with someone. Not for pity — no, there was some deeper instinct trying to force itself to the surface, and he dared not let it. Closing his eyes, he fought against himself.

  • • •

  Charon appeared in the middle of Angelica’s office. Holding out his hand, he summoned the book he knew was hidden in the room. As it appeared in his hand, its silver inscription began to glow.

  Angelica Dark and her boss had no idea what they had found. Theo had been close to correct when he had thought it was a spin-off of the Egyptian Book of the Dead. In fact, the Egyptians had used this text as the basis for theirs.

  The book had remained unattached to anyone, therefore, the book could be taken without the owner’s consent. His eyes glowed bright. The other book in her possession was attached to her. The game would have to be controlled if her consent to give it to him would be delivered.

  The Book of Resurrection pulsed in his hand, eager to be near its master. “Soon, soon we will bring all the books together!”

  Laughter echoed and Charon disappeared as thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Chapter 20

  Angelica stared, refusing to even blink. He had fangs — two very long pointed fangs that hung just over the edge of his bottom lip. Fangs! This was insane. She was trapped in this room with a drop-dead gorgeous, leather-wearing, bleached-white–haired, wannabe vampire psycho. Heaven help her.

  Hot tears coursed down her cheeks. It was not fair!

  “Angel, I know what you’re thinking, and I can offer you no consolation.” He leaned back on his heels and ran his hand over his face.

  “You.” She took a deep breath. “You are insane.”

  “Maybe.” His grin revealed more fang, and she shrieked like a mouse caught in a trap.

  “Oh, God, don’t do that! Don’t smile!” She shoved at his chest, sending him crashing backwards onto his ass. “Open the goddamned door and let me out right now!”

  He laughed as he stared up at the ceiling. Who would have ever thought he would end up on his ass? He laughed again as she kicked his leg and scrambled past him on her hands and knees.

  He turned his head and groaned as he watched her butt wiggle away from him. She had to have the finest ass in all history. Round and very eatable. He raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of her glistening core. His cock jerked maddeningly; it demanding he fill her up. But first he wanted to taste her again, lick her core until he drowned in her release.

  He rolled over and pushed himself up onto all fours. Eager to sate the fantasy in his mind, he crawled after her. Feeling like the predator he was, he growled low, the sound a rumbling vibration growing louder in the back of his throat.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder and scrambled to her feet. “Oh, hell no! Don’t even think about it. I don’t want any part of your sick little game.”

  Varick knew he was an animal, an animal on all fours staring at her like he wanted to eat her whole, with extreme amounts of chewing and licking involved. He fe
lt anger blast through her arousal, heard her thoughts as she ran to the door. She was angry at herself for being attracted to him, angry at him for kidnapping her, and even more angry at the fact all these things should have quenched her attraction but seemed instead to be adding to it.

  She banged on the door with her fists and screamed with fury, “Let me out!”

  Varick stood as she dropped her fists and turned to snarl at him. “You plan on keeping me prisoner, don’t you?”

  He nodded — no sense in lying to her at this point.

  She made a beeline to him and tilted her chin up to stare straight into his red eyes. “I should punch the crap right out of you! I won’t be a willing prisoner! And I will absolutely not have sex with you!”

  He stared down from his towering height and sighed. Her fear was gone, replaced by the sulfuric smell of irritation. Her hand rested on her hip, her breasts on delicious display.

  “But I’m not going to punch you. You’re going to answer my questions, aren’t you?” He remained silent. “Aren’t you, vamp boy?”

  His mouth gaped. Vamp boy? Honestly, where did she come up with those phrases of hers?

  “Don’t open that mouth unless you’re taking those fangs out.” Her finger punched into his chest. “Nod your head.”

  He nodded, trying to bite back his smile. She was amazing. No, she was beyond amazing. She was worthy.

  “Don’t smile, either. I can see them when you smile.” He chuckled as she stepped back and glared at him. “This isn’t funny. I won’t be kept prisoner!”

  “Twenty-two hours.” He was honestly trying not to grin as she bit her bottom lip and her gaze traveled down his naked chest. “Mine for twenty-two hours.”

  “That’s not acceptable.” Stepping back, she eyed him warily. “Why the hell do you want to act like a” — she shuddered — “a vampire? I mean, I know people role play all the time but this is — this is crazy. You’re freaking crazy! People go to jail for kidnapping.”

  He grunted. “I’m not human, Angelica. I won’t go to jail, and I’m not crazy. Not in the way you mean, anyway.”