Rhemy: Immortal Forsaken Series #4 (Paranormal Romance Novella)

by Verika Sloane

“Men like you can’t stand rejection. It’s a challenge. A game.” Her hand went her to chest as if she sympathized. “I get it. I have four brothers who are just like that. So that’s why I can see it coming a mile away, Ronnie.”

  Did she do that on purpose? “Rhemy,” he corrected.

  “That’s what I meant. Let me just give you a little validation so we both can move on with our night.”

  “Validation?” he frowned, despite the fact he wanted to chuckle.

  “Here it is. You’re hot. Okay? I’ll admit you’re hotter than homemade sin and obviously successful with what you’ve got going on in here. Your southern drawl is on point, and you are seriously popular with the ladies, because every single one of them you’ve passed looks like they’d give up their right eye for a night with you. You’ve got good taste in clothes, even though you wear them a little too tight, but you carry yourself well. Bravo.” She clapped her hands. “And maybe I’m insane to turn down your company, but you’ll get over it. There. There’s your validation. Thank you for the drink. Leave me alone.” She brushed past him.

  Rhemy stared after her. Dumbstruck. His brows drew together as he watched—shit, still didn’t get her name. “Well, damn me...”

  He’d evoked his sensa toward her with vigor, yet she didn’t take it in at all. Usually vampiresses who were attracted to him were demure and flirtatious. Even when they liked the chase and played hard to get, he still knew they wanted him. While she apparently thought her little speech would send him off, unfortunately for her it had the opposite effect.

  He wanted her. He wanted to open her wide, sink deep inside her, and wrapped those legs around him. He wanted her on her knees, those sassy, full lips on his cock, her grayish-violet eyes looking up at him.

  Something inside him would not let that be the last interaction they had.

  Obviously she didn’t want him interfering on her date, or whatever it was, but she was in his house, and would have to deal with some interference. An instinct told him to be cautious. As ravenous as his lust was becoming, he couldn’t allow his cock to lead the way.

  He frowned. She could be a spy, some undercover UCC snitch out to run recon on his business, or the shief-vampire meeting.

  The vampiress disappeared in the powder room and shut the door.

  Suspicion creeping through his mind, he leveled his gaze and walked toward it.

  I’m not done with you yet.

  Two

  When it was finally her turn, Taelour rushed into the single-occupant powder room, slammed the door closed, and locked it, body shaking, heart hammering.

  What was happening to her?

  The second she’d confronted the club owner, the moment they were face to face, she’d been assaulted with a wave of hypnotic lust. It’d taken every drop of inner strength to reject his sensa, and even more so to restrain hers. She never wanted a man that blindly, that fast, that much.

  It frightened her.

  Having four blatantly masculine, overbearing, testosterone-fueled brothers meant she was accustomed to arrogant male energy and knew how to handle it. But whatever Rhemy had…she couldn’t handle. Though Taelour was pretty sure she kept her haywire sensa harnessed, she couldn’t risk that walking-talking seducer distracting her.

  Finally able to draw a decent breath of air, she dug in her back pocket for her cell to send Calvin Porter a message to do this meeting somewhere else.

  Just then, she received a text from Calvin: Hey-a sweet thing. Just parked the Cadi. Meet you inside.

  Crap. Too late.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Just a minute,” she said distractedly, walking toward it. She unlocked the door, opened it, and gasped.

  Him.

  “You’re going to tell me everything,” Rhemy said, coming in, closing the door.

  The buzz in her head began. Oh, my gods. That lust she’d just tamed roared back, swathing her in heat. She started walking back as he advanced on her with that self-assured air. Once her butt hit the wall, she had nowhere to go. “I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

  He kept coming until his hands were braced on either side of her head. His sensa coiled around her like a ghostly caress.

  Trapped, she didn’t give in to the moan she wanted to emit. “What are you doing, Mr. Carrington?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?”

  “Trying to seduce me.”

  “Trying? In here? More like a Q and A.”

  She loved how he said the word “here”; with his accent, it came out like gentle hee-ah. One simple word was like heated honey to her ears…and another place well below those. “Whatever you’re doing, make it quick. I was just about to leave.”

  He cocked his head, his lustful gaze dropping to her lips. “This a friendly interrogation, not a seduction. If I was really here to seduce you, you wouldn’t be able to speak with that feisty mouth of yours.”

  Hello, arrogance. Gods, he smelled good. “If you say so.”

  “What’s your name, sugar?” he asked.

  She considered making one up, but didn’t see the point. “Taelour.”

  “Fateblood?”

  “Nope. Pürblood.”

  “All right, Taelour,” he said, cocking his head. “This is my club. My house. You’re going to tell me why you’re here and it’s going to be the truth. Who sent you?”

  There was distrust in his eyes. She pressed back farther into the wall, as if a few centimeters would make a difference. “No one.”

  “Oh? Then how did you get one of my VIP cards?”

  A mahogany lock of hair dropped to his forehead, curling right above his brow.

  She longed to smooth it away with her fingers. Her nails dug into the wallpaper. “I found it.”

  “I said the truth.”

  “I’m not lying. Some lush left his jacket in a cab and it fell out.”

  “So you stole it.”

  “Let’s say I’m returning it. What does it matter?”

  “Those are for paying members. I know because I’m the one who signs them. Had it not been me watchin’ the camera, you wouldn’t have gotten in at all.”

  “Then why did you let me in?”

  His sexy gaze narrowed, countering her question with one of his. “Who are you supposed to meet here?”

  “You wouldn’t know him.”

  “Give me a name.”

  “Bullying and intimidation is a coward’s way of getting what he wants.”

  His mouth quirked, and she watched the tip of his tongue trace the back of his top teeth. “Easy there, darlin’. I’m no coward. I’m an immortal protecting his interests.”

  No, he wasn’t a coward. She’d seen plenty of those. Nor was he bully. But he was intimidating in all his sensual masculinity. The draw to him was powerful and dozing, like Xanax, but much more satisfying. Her head dropped back on the wall. “If only I’d never walked in here—”

  “I’ll let you go. As soon as you tell me what I want to know.” He inhaled, his soft brown eyes glowing like embers in a dying fire.

  Her fingertips somehow involuntarily skimmed down his hard abdomen, as though she had no control over her actions, her body needing to touch him.

  Mistake.

  That single motion invited him in. He groaned and pressed his body fully against hers, making her mouth drop open at the iron-hard length of him on her hip.

  Gods, she was wrong. There was nothing average about this vampire.

  She yearned to run her hands down his body, feel every contour of muscle, slide her palm down that thick girth. Somehow, she was able to keep her sweaty palms at her sides. Better to get out of this situation as soon as possible before she did something reckless and regrettable. She closed her eyes and remained still as he continued to skim his velvet mouth on her ear and neck. She gave a jolt when he feathered over her jugular.

  Swallowing, she finally found her voice. “His name is Calvin Porter. I have some business with him to discuss. That’s all.�
��

  Rhemy froze, then pushed off a few feet away from her. The loss of his heat and nearness was like a slap of cold water to the face. He snarled, teeth sharp. “Calvin Porter? That sleaze?”

  She nodded. Clearly Rhemy knew of him, and had about the same opinion as everyone else. Pounds on the door with feminine voices complaining about the wait prevented Rhemy from asking another question.

  “Will you leave now?” she asked with a slight desperation in her tone, her senses coming back in pieces.

  He stared at her a moment, then nodded. “Thank you,” he drawled as he walked backward. “For your cooperation.” He turned and walked out.

  Relieved to breathe again, she waited until the door closed before sliding down the wall.

  Rhemy ran a hand through his wavy mane and exhaled. When he emerged from the powder room, the women were suddenly quiet, tracking him with their wide eyes as he strode past.

  “My apologies, ladies. She’ll be right out,” he muttered.

  “It’s okay, Rhemy!”

  “No problem, baby!”

  Trouble. She’s trouble and I know it and I should get her the hell out of here.

  Yet, he knew he wouldn’t. Only a desperate fool would have business with Calvin Porter.

  Just then, he spotted the very same snake walking through the door with a grin, patting his bloated stomach and searching the room. Even though part of Rhemy wanted to let it go, he couldn’t. He marched straight to Calvin and yanked the charlatan vampire to a dark alcove where the payphones used to be.

  Calvin’s eyes went round, hands up. “Hey-ya, Rhemy. What’s up? I paid my debt off three days ago!”

  “This isn’t about that.” He glanced out the doorway to see if he could catch a glimpse of the one woman they had in common. “What’s your business with Miss Taelour?”

  “W-what?”

  “Why are you meeting her?”

  Calvin yanked his jacket down. “How do you know about that?”

  “I know everything that goes on in here.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s sorta nunya your bizness, Carrington. She and I are just comin’ to a ’lil arrangement.”

  Imagining what Calvin might’ve asked her for, Rhemy’s rage erupted like black lava. His teeth lengthened, eyes reddened. He pressed a hand to Calvin’s chest and pushed him against the wall. “What arrangement?” he roared.

  Calvin’s eyes rounded. “Geez—!”

  “Tell me.”

  “Yeah, okay. Sure. Lighten up, will ya?”

  Rhemy removed his hand. “Spill.”

  “She wants in the Centurias.”

  Rhemy blinked and stepped back. He’d guessed all manner of problems: needing quick cash, finding a kidnapped loved one, debt, blackmail…entry into a party wasn’t one of them. Even though it was the party. “Why?”

  “Hell if I know. She won’t say.”

  “There’s no way you can get her in. Not unless you somehow became rich overnight, or rigged the lotto.”

  The Centurias committee held a lottery for those who didn’t have status or money to get in, as a way to give those not-so-fortunate an opportunity of a lifetime. One could put in their name and pray to the gods they were the lucky selected. The drawing wasn’t until December. The chances of winning were about as good the human’s cash lottery, since one was up against thousands of names.

  Taelour hadn’t seemed like the kind of woman to fall for bullshit. That meant she was either delusional or Calvin had lied through his teeth. “How can you get her in?”

  “I…can’t tell you.”

  Growing impatient, but loathe to put his hands on Porter again, he sighed. “You definitely won’t be able to tell me without a throat.”

  Porter sagged. “Come on man, dey’ll ban me if I tell anyone. I got a real legit thing goin’ for me for once.”

  “You’re really testing my patience tonight. Tell me right now, or tell me while you’re choking on your own blood.” He flinched at his threat. Something about Taelour brought out the fierce protector in him. At the terror in Porter’s eyes, he decided to change tactic and tone. Sugar was best to attract flies, and whatever information Porter had, Rhemy wanted. “I’ll grant you ten grand at the tables. On me.” It was worth it to know, and the best way to get information was by exploiting a man’s weakness. In this case, gambling was Calvin’s.

  The chump lit up like a blanket of stars. “You mean it?”

  “You have my word.”

  Porter nodded, swiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, looking around as if anyone could hear them over the band. “Listen up, boy. There’s an auction happenin’ soon. The first evah. Real hush-hush kind of auction dey tryin’ to keep on the down-low.”

  Already he didn’t like the sound of it. “Go on. What kind of auction?”

  “The kind only the heavy pockets can ‘ford. To bid on companions for the Centurias. Called the Unavowed Auction. The bidders all have keys, and if a vampiress is desperate enough to go, she can enter. If she’s bid on, she gits to go with him. Never been done before so…and ya know.” The man shrugged, cracking his knuckles. “It ain’t exactly sanctioned by the UCC.” He leaned in, as if he had to whisper the next part. “I heard some of the bidders will really make ’em work for it, if ya catch my drift.”

  Sickened, Rhemy slammed the man to the wall again with his forearm, annoyed by his bad breath, as well as disgusted by this Unavowed Auction business he’d never heard of. “Who’s heading this? Who gets the money?”

  Another shrug from Porter. “Some fella named DeVaux. I don’t exactly have the inside track on dose kinds o’ details. But you know, ’cause of my connections, word was sprinkled in my ear they were lookin’ for more women, and I knew I could be of service. Obviously dey only want me to bring in the purtiest, unavowed vampiresses available, otherwise the bidders would be wastin’ dey time. The women are willin’ so it’s not like it’s slavery or anythin’, if that’s what you’re thinking, Rhemy.”

  “Sure sounds like it,” he said dryly.

  “No, no, dey volunteering! In fact, dey so many volunteers the ones runnin’ it are bein’ real, real selective.”

  “I take it there are more volunteers than bidders.”

  “Pfft. Course!”

  Who was this DeVaux fellow? Sounded shady. “So you were going to get Taelour in on this auction? In exchange for what? And don’t tell me you’re doing it out of the kindness of your heart.”

  “Would I lie to you? Once word got out I was helpin’ with the recruitin’… Lord, I have been offered everything from mama’s pearls to priceless paintings. But Taelour had somethin’ I’ve always wanted.”

  “And what was that?”

  He sneered. “Why should I tell you? So you can take it for yerself? Do I look like I was born yeste’day?”

  He could force it out of him, but he didn’t need Porter to find out what she had to offer, and he’d reached his limit on standing the man’s presence any longer. “Well, move on. Taelour will not be for sale.”

  Annoyance flashed in the vampire’s eyes. “Why don’t you let her decide?”

  “Because I just did for her.”

  “Ah.” Calvin swept imaginary lint from the sleeves of his ugly jacket. “Sweet on her, aren’t you? Not that I blame you one bit. Damn it, Rhemy. Just let us conduct our biz, will you? She’s a dime! I get a fee for bringin’ her in. Could really use the dough.” He gasped at the red haze in Rhemy’s normally calm gaze. “Fine! Keep your teeth back, pretty boy. But you can be the one to tell her you’re the reason she’s not gonna be in the auction. I have a feelin’ she’ll be giving me a call regardless. She wants it that bad.”

  “Yeah, well, can’t always get what you want,” Rhemy drawled, eager to find her and get to the bottom of her story. “Now get out.”

  “What about my credit?” he whined.

  “Tomorrow. We’re full tonight.”

  “Rhemy! You gave me your word!”

  Gamblers were always
showing their bad-habit card. “And I meant it. You can wait twenty-four hours for ten grand, can’t you?”

  Calvin’s fish lips turned down, but then he smacked Rhemy in the arm and smiled. “I’ll be back tomorrow then. Good luck with the girl. I’ll send her a text and cancel our rendezvous. Hate to leave her hangin’.”

  “Fine. Just go.” Rhemy sighed, shaking his head, watching the con man exit out the side door near the restrooms.

  He should stop right now.

  He was only getting in deeper.

  Sorry sweetheart. Something’s come up. I’ll be in touch!

  Taelour withheld a frustrated scream as she read Calvin’s text. One second he was parking the car, the next he was ditching her. The whole night was a dead end. All this for nothing. She ordered a shot of vodka but didn’t touch it, just stared at it, depressed.

  She was back at square one. More like, square zero.

  “Taelour?”

  She turned around to face a handsome young vampire in a suit and tie. “That’s me.”

  “Mr. Carrington sent me to ask if you’d like to join him in his office.”

  Be alone with him again? No way. “Tell him—”

  “He says he can help you. Whatever Calvin Porter promised, I assure you, my boss can do better.”

  Was it true? How could he know that when she hadn’t even told him what she needed?

  Was he that arrogant?

  Did he despise Porter that much?

  Either way, she couldn’t afford to blow him off. After all, he was a well-known fixture in New Orleans. If Calvin could get her into the auction, perhaps Rhemy could even more quickly.

  Then again, the price could be high for Rhemy. What would he want in return?

  Deciding she had no choice, she agreed to follow the young man up to the third floor. He tapped the wood with his knuckle, let Taelour into the office, then closed the door.

  Rhemy stood facing a window that overlooked the club, hands in pockets.

  The rush swept over her again, icy then heated, with a need Taelour could only classify as purely, insanely sexual. Just being in his presence caused that. Never before had a man cast such an effect on her merely by existing.