by Dannika Dark
Christian seized my arm and rubbed his thumb over the tattoo. “What the feck is this?”
“My permanent tattoo. I thought about getting a butterfly, but it would clash with my reputation. Like it?”
“Don’t be telling me fibs.”
“It stays on for about a week, and then he has to reapply it. It’s club policy.”
“How is it lit up like a fecking Christmas tree?”
“Mage magic, I guess. Some guy slapped it on me when I wasn’t paying attention.”
Christian gave me a black look. “What shitebag put his hands on you? I want his name.”
“Calm down, lover. If it makes you feel any better, Claude has one too, and it’s not on his arm.” I sat on the bed and stared at his fit body beneath that tight charcoal-grey shirt. After seeing so much skin during the past evening, I had developed a newfound appreciation for modesty. “These boots were comfy.”
He knelt in front of me and took them off. “I put those gelatinous inserts inside.”
“I don’t think that’s what they’re called, but thanks for looking after my soles.”
When Christian rubbed my calf, I winced. His gaze sharpened. “What happened?”
“I got in a tussle with a Sensor. He threw some dirty magic into me. Fire.”
Christian let go and turned the onyx ring on his finger. “Do you want me to draw a bath?”
I shuddered at the thought. “No, I’ll shower tomorrow. My skin’s too sensitive.”
Stroking his beard, Christian stood and then rummaged through my bag.
“Don’t bother getting out my sleep clothes,” I said, stripping off my corset. “I’m sleeping naked tonight. I don’t want anything touching my skin.”
He leaned against the dresser. “Even me?”
After removing my shorts, I crawled up to the pillows. “Think you can stay away from me for one night?”
Christian’s sultry black eyes lingered on my bare breasts before sliding down to my panties. “I miss you already.”
“I didn’t see your Honda outside.”
“Do you think I’m that careless? I parked my motorbike up the street. Viktor had me bring your bags, so I charmed the man downstairs to lend me a spare key. I’m not allowed to stay here on this assignment. Viktor doesn’t want to chance it.” Christian approached the bed like a panther and sat down. “You’ve been drinking.”
“It was a rough night. I needed something extra before the walk home.”
“You should take out your contact lens. You might scratch up your eyeball if you sleep with it in.”
I reached up and pulled off the mask. “Why did you hang out at fantasy clubs?”
He brushed a tress away from my face. “Immortals get bored easily.”
“Am I boring?”
He bent over until his lips touched mine. “Far from it.”
I turned my head away. “I’m not in the mood. I’ve never been so turned off from sex.”
“Something I said?”
“No. I just don’t get the whole domination thing.”
An enigmatic look crossed his expression.
When the room began to spin, I reached between the two beds and switched off the lamp. My tattoo illuminated the dark like a night-light, allowing me to see Christian perfectly.
“This comforter sure is soft,” I said after a wide yawn. “Not like most hotels.”
“I had them unwrap a new one from the supply room.”
I chuckled softly. “Why?”
“I have exceptional vision. I could see stains on that bedding that would make you shudder. I’ll not have you sleeping on filth.”
“Since when are you a germophobe? I seem to recall you having sex with a random woman on top of a table in a bar.”
He straightened his back. “Now that was entirely different.”
“How so?”
“Well, for one, you can wipe down wood. It’s not like these linens that have been collecting waste for years. Secondly, in case you haven’t noticed, I prefer to stand.”
That was true.
“Too bad you can’t stay with me on this mission,” I said.
“And why’s that?”
“Just look at that big picture window over there. We could open the curtains all the way, even flip on the lights. Imagine all the eyes watching us. My breasts smashed against the glass as you pound me from behind.”
He put his hand over my mouth. “That’ll be enough of that.”
I smiled and rested my hand on his lap. “I’m good at this job. I think I found my calling.”
He furrowed his brow. “As a dominatrix?”
“No. I meant working as a bartender. I grew up in a bar; it’s like second nature.”
Christian tilted his head. “And dominating men isn’t?”
I squeezed his thigh until I heard a light gasp. “Men and women were lined up at my station, and they liked me ordering them around.”
“Are you trying to get yourself fired from an undercover job?”
“You didn’t see the way they were talking to me. Sometimes you gotta stand your ground. I know Viktor wants me to play a role, but I’ll never be a doormat for any amount of money. My father used to always call me an alpha cat as a joke. He didn’t like the word bossy. Said it was one of those negative labels that people put on strong women. My attitude doesn’t get me in trouble in the club. I got more tips in that short amount of time than I did the entire night.”
“’Tis a shame I missed it.”
I slid my hand farther up his thigh. “If you’re good, I’ll let you watch me.”
“You’re a naughty girl, Miss Black.”
“But that’s what you like, isn’t it?”
“Aye.”
“Good. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
He licked his bottom lip. “Aye.”
I squeezed his thigh and rolled away from him. I needed to get some shut-eye and shake the Sensor-induced fever. “Good night, Poe.”
His lips were suddenly next to my ear. “Good night, Precious. I’ll be watching.”
Christian waited until Raven fell asleep before slipping out. He watched the rhythmic pattern of her breathing, listened to the soft beat of her fierce heart, and fantasized about killing every man who touched her. He couldn’t help the compulsive thoughts. They festered. Christian had spent decades learning patience through his job as a guard. He had mastered control and exercised ruthless behavior only when warranted. But with Raven, that old side of him was reemerging. The one that predated his years as a guard, back when he served Lenore.
Viktor had forbidden him from staying with Raven. On undercover assignments, one couldn’t be too careful, and his constant presence would pose a security threat. But Viktor didn’t mention anything about guarding Raven on her walk home. While Christian couldn’t go into the club, he could at least see that she got home safely. As long as he kept his distance and didn’t interfere, he didn’t see the harm.
Christian fired up his Ducati and rode home in the early light of day. He delighted in the sharp turns, the speed, and the wind in his hair. It was more thrilling at night on a dark road with the headlamps off. Now that dawn had broken, he was trying to get home as quickly as possible before his retinas burned out of his skull.
Once he reached Keystone, he parked his bike in the underground garage and walked toward the mansion. He thought about the disdain in Raven’s voice when she mentioned domination. The games they played in the bedroom were tame compared to what she must have witnessed in the club. Whether she realized it or not, her difficulty understanding the pleasure people got from it stemmed from her time with Fletcher. Christian didn’t dare bring it up with her, but he’d witnessed what abuse could do to a person. Fletcher had beaten and chained her, performed repulsive sexual acts in front of her as a way to assert his dominance. He’d stolen her light, which was a kind word for energy rape. And to have endured such atrocities from her own Creator? The one who was supposed to mento
r and protect her? The one whose light coursed throughout her body?
Christian touched the onyx ring on his middle finger. Raven would always be tormented by those memories, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. As tempting as it was to scrub her mind of the whole affair, it was better that she remembered. Hate was Raven’s accelerant. It lit a fire within her soul and made her the woman she was. Fire was what forged Christian into a better Vampire and gave him a tenacious grip on life.
Before reaching the door, he stripped off his dirty shirt. While filling Raven’s thermos prior to leaving her hotel, he’d spilled coffee on himself. The drink would probably be cold by the time she woke up, but it mattered little. Christian didn’t have much experience wooing a woman, but that was his way of showing his affection for her.
Raven was supposed to work the early evening—same shift as the murdered women. The White Owl opened at roughly five in the afternoon and didn’t close until the next morning. Fantasy clubs rarely opened their doors in the daytime. The expense of staying open all hours wasn’t worth it, and the limited availability attracted more people. Not to mention, most people didn’t want to walk the streets in their leather thong during noontime hours.
With his sunglasses still on, Christian strode into the house. The moment he shut the door behind him, a familiar laugh emanated from the dining room.
“Fecking hell,” he muttered, not caring that Lenore could hear him.
Christian entered the short hall, passing a few rooms on the left before reaching the entryway on the right. The booths were empty, and through the windows in the gathering room, he glimpsed dappled sunlight in the courtyard.
“Christian, come say hello to our guest.” Viktor invited him over to the long wooden table.
He didn’t like that Lenore was sitting in Raven’s chair. Reluctantly, he drifted toward them but chose to linger at the kitchen entrance. The breakfast plates still had a few bites of scrambled eggs and toast left behind.
“I was just dropping off my dirty laundry.” Christian squeezed the ball of fabric in his hand.
“Let Kira take that when she comes back. She is making banitsa. Have you had this pastry? Sit! You must try.” Viktor was certainly in good spirits.
Christian draped his shirt over the back of Wyatt’s chair and sat down across from Lenore. Her perfume smelled like honeysuckle, and her floral off-the-shoulder dress fit her body like a glove. Lenore had always favored bright colors, and the yellow material complemented her flaxen hair, which was styled in an elaborate braided bun. Her trademark was pulling out wisps of hair to give her a more casual appearance. Lenore never wanted to look overly prim, but these were different times, and nobody gave a shite about rules of etiquette.
Lenore lifted her glass of orange juice and held it close to her lips. “Someone is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning.” Her eyes skimmed down to his bare chest and settled on the tattoo. Lenore was a reticent woman, and she still hadn’t said anything about his ink. She danced around the topic as if it were a strapping young lad in the center of a ballroom. Instead, she sipped her juice and admired the room décor.
Christian took off his sunglasses. “And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
She set down her crystal glass. “I’ve heard wonderful things about Mr. Valentine. Not so long ago, your Chitah gave me his business card. I asked around, and he’s one of the most sought-after hairstylists in Cognito. Naturally I had to have him. I was afraid he might be booked up until Christmas, so I thought I’d come by and”—she touched Viktor’s arm—“see if Mr. Kazan could pull some strings.”
Viktor’s eyes sparkled as he patted her hand. “Call me Viktor.”
“I’m so accustomed to the rigid formalities of the higher authority.” She let go and rested her arms on the table. “If only you knew, Christian. So many rules, so many secrets. I had no idea they kept a dossier on everyone.”
Christian flicked his eyes up.
“Yes,” she said, confirming his bemused look. “Even me. But we’re not permitted to look at our own. Technically we’re not allowed to look at anyone we’re not investigating or prosecuting, but they’re flexible when it comes to those you do business with.”
Christian shifted in his seat, not only unsettled by the idea that the higher authority kept records on all of them but that Lenore had access.
“Let us not talk about work.” Viktor stroked his silver beard. He looked extra dapper this morning. His blue button-up had nary a wrinkle, and the sleeves were neatly rolled to his elbows.
Kira whooshed into the room and presented a round pan with a pastry inside. Then she set down two dessert plates.
“Spasibo, Kira.”
Kira wiped her hands on her white apron and returned to the kitchen.
“What a lovely creature,” Lenore remarked with the utmost seriousness. “I once wanted to be a redhead.”
Viktor cut her a piece of the pastry and set it on a yellow plate. “And what changed your mind?”
“Shifters.”
“Ah.”
“That isn’t the type of attention I invite, even if I’m not a Shifter.” Lenore pulled a cloth napkin onto her lap. “Where on earth did you find such good help? I need a servant with her discipline. Someone who knows how to be invisible. Everyone has an agenda these days. Before the higher authority and Mageri, we were allowed to hire humans. They’re so obedient—so willing to please. They romanticized the idea of immortality and perhaps hoped we would choose them. Isn’t that silly? Aside from that, they don’t live very long, so you don’t have to worry about someone knowing all your secrets.” She winked at Christian. “Now that I’m an official, maybe I should change the laws.”
Christian listened while Viktor and Lenore made small talk. He examined her body language and carefully chosen words, but nothing led him to believe she was up to anything nefarious. He’d made her out to be a villain in his mind, but what if she had changed? Even he wasn’t the same man he once was back in 1921. In any case, he needed to put his pride aside for Viktor’s sake. It was always better to be on a person’s good side than bad.
“Absolutely decadent.” Lenore wiped her mouth and simply beamed. “I don’t eat as much as I used to, but how can one resist something so sinful?”
Viktor brushed a few crumbs off his beard. “I will speak to Claude and see what he can do about fitting you in as a personal client. He is currently on an important assignment.”
She leaned into him. “Yes, do let me know if there’s anything you need.”
Viktor scooted back his chair, and Christian noticed the man’s heart rate had accelerated. He looked uncomfortable. Had Viktor told her about their confidential assignment?
“Please forgive me.” His cheeks flushed as he pushed in his chair. “I have much work to do, but I will speak with Claude and see if he can free up his schedule. You let me know a good time. Christian will see you out. It was a pleasure, Miss Parrish.” Viktor bowed before leaving the room.
“And then there were two,” she said offhandedly. “Sometimes I don’t think people have a clue how much they give away in body language. They guard their emotions around Chitahs and Sensors but never Vampires. Why is that? The less people say, the more they reveal.”
Christian folded his arms on the table. “Aye. Like the way you haven’t mentioned my tattoo.”
“Foolish actions are paid in kind. What is there to say?” Lenore took one of those deep, disapproving sighs. “Why would you desire a Mage? They’re fragile little things. It’s only a matter of time before you break her,” she said with derision. “Or perhaps it’s something else you’re addicted to.”
He bristled at her accusation. “What you know about our relationship could fill a thimble.”
“Oh, Chrissy. I’m only trying to shake some sense into you. We both know that interbreeding never works between Vampires and other races. How long before you two have a heated argument and you crush her skull? And don’t sa
y it can’t happen. Remember Fernando and his little Shifter companion? He was never the same after her accidental death. I heard he walked into a fire.”
Christian drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m glad to hear he finally acquired some common sense. I never did like that fanghole.”
“You could do so much better.” She lifted her glass of juice and sniffed the contents. “Her eyes are unnerving.”
That was Lenore’s indirect way of calling Raven a defect for having two different eye colors. In another time, Christian might have lost his temper. But what Lenore didn’t know was how strong Raven was, and most especially that she was also half Vampire.
He smiled obliquely at her crass remark, and that seemed to ruffle her prehistoric feathers.
Lenore set her glass back down. “Well, if I can’t talk some sense into you, the least I can do is offer you my unwavering support. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call. The past is where it belongs, but now that we’re both in powerful positions, we can help each other.”
“Why don’t you help me understand what it is you’re doing here at the arse crack of dawn? And don’t be telling me fibs about booking an appointment with Claude. There’s an invention called a telephone.”
“I prefer face-to-face meetings. Besides, I’ve learned that early morning is the time of day that someone is least likely to be busy with work.”
Lenore’s skin looked so radiant—so flawless. The gentle blush on her cheeks drew attention to her pink lips. She was never a woman who needed makeup to enhance her beauty. Her delicate features bewitched men, from her stunning black eyes to her sylphlike body. Even in a floral dress, Lenore exuded sensuality. As Christian stared at her sharp chin and slender neck, he wondered how he could have ever been attracted to such an overly feminine woman. While naturally powerful, Lenore had no muscle tone. Her vanilla features were bereft of genuine emotion. And most of all, her eyes were unremarkable and hollow. Christian could spend hours searching Raven’s eyes, and he understood her better than she understood herself. She was direct, if not blunt, but he had grown to appreciate her unambiguous personality.