Savanah turned to the maid and did as she was asked, knocking the maid on her feather duster.
“You saw me asleep on my bed. Thank you for allowing my family in.”
“You’re welcome, Misses.” The maid got up, straightened her skirt, turned and walked out of the room rubbing her rump.
“That is so cool,” Ethan said.
Savanah could have sworn she saw stars in his eyes. Hearing a loud crash in the bathroom she turned and ran. She found her father slumped over the toilette, clammy, pale and disoriented.
“Papa? Can I help you?”
André barely whispered, “Blood.”
“Take my wrist, Papa. Take what you need.”
André swatted at his daughter. “Get away from me.”
“You can have mine,” Ethan offered.
In a voice that no one recognized, André pleaded again, “Get her out of here. I think some pissed off spirit is messing with me.”
Julian guided her out the door. “Go, Peanut. He needs blood and doesn’t realize it.” Turning to André, Julian explained, “You haven’t been invaded, Ands. You’re just low on fuel. You’ll be fine.”
“You sure? Jovan told me I could get possessed.”
Julian pat his shoulder. “You’re fine. There isn’t a spirit stupid enough to screw with you. Shifters are a whole other story.” Julian gave Ethan a look that asked without words, “Death wish?”
Ethan shoved his wrist under André’s nose. “Here you go. This little mutt’s your meal ticket, so ask politely or you won’t get seconds. You want to be able to trust me? I’m all yours. Be careful. It packs a wallop. Second time’s the charm all right. One more and I might as well be the choir boy.”
“I want your throat, boy.” There was no humor indicated behind his obsidian eyes.
Looking between the three men, Ethan realized this was one test of wills he couldn’t lose. He had to be stronger or respect would never be his. He’d just be considered fodder. Those days, he thought, are through.
“It’s my wrist or nothing. My neck is not an option. There’s only one person getting her lips on this, and it ain’t you. And don’t forget—Xier may very well be able to track you from this, and Draque. Jesus, I feel used.” He attempted to crack a smile, but no one else seemed to understand his humor. To his astonishment André bowed before him.
Emerging from the bathroom, Ethan glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He had a pasty pallor, and André held a healthy rejuvenated glow. Funny how that worked, he thought.
“Ethan, if at any time you’re up to no good, I’ll find you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ethan finished.
André walked to Savanah, dropped to his knees and kissed her palm. “You are everything to me, little girl. Why don’t you lie down and rest. You looked exhausted. I’ll be right here.”
****
After a short restless nap, getting clean and fed, Savanah asked, “So what time to do we head to the City of the Dead? We’re going after Draque right?”
Ethan waggled his index finger no in Savanah’s face. “We? We—your father, Lucian, Julian and I will head out just before dusk. You, Pippy, are not included in this.”
Hearing his concern for Savanah’s welfare, André gave Julian, the nod, behind her back.
“Oh, you’re so not leaving me here alone. We are a team, Eth. Papa, tell him. Tell him I’m coming.” Savanah bat her big baby blues for all she was worth at her father.
“Ethan’s right, it’s too risky. It’s hard enough to take care of ourselves, let alone worry for your health.”
“Oh because I’m so much safer here alone? Really? I’m quite capable of caring for me.” With an exaggerated huff one black curl lifted and landed exactly where it began; in her eyes.
Studying her, Ethan decided, “You look like you could cry at the drop of a dime. That’s blackmail, Savanah. Don’t get all girly on me.” Then her bottom lip started to quiver.
Julian, Lucian and André sat back, eager to see how Ethan would handle this, having lived the past century with the little woman, who in her own right was a skilled actress.
I’m so bad. I can’t believe I have to resort to this. Savanah bit at the evil little grin trying to work its way onto her lips.
Ethan gave her a soft kiss. He swept her tears away, and pressed his forehead against hers, watching her through crossed eyes.
“Savage,” he murmured, “I grew up with five sisters, sweet cheeks. You’re gonna have to do better than this to get what you want.”
André, Lucian and Julian got up abruptly and walked away, all suddenly finding busy things to do.
Appalled, Savanah pushed him so hard Ethan did a backwards dive off the bed. He landed squarely on his feet.
“Ta-da! I seem to have nine lives these days with more agility than a kitten.”
“Come here you little fur ball.” Savanah tried to sound angry, but she grinned regardless.
“Why?” Ethan teased, backing away from her as she stalked him across the room.
“I want to give you a good licking.”
Savanah’s smile wasn’t the only thing to spring to life.
Ethan’s pants took on a new shape. “Oh, from the lips of a Goddess! Go lock the door on your sentinels.”
“Only if you let me go with you.” Savanah sat down on the edge of the bed, crossed her arms, and purposefully plumped up her breasts.
“Let me guess, a slight diversion tactic you’ve learned from the other women in your home.”
“When all else fails use what you are born with, be that beauty, brains, boobs or a combination or magic if all else fails miserably. Tell me one of the three is working.”
Ethan knelt at her feet.
“Groveling—love it when men do that. I really should’ve been the queen.”
“Sweet cheeks, when I get back I’m going to eat you alive, my promise to you. Behave. Here’s a stun gun your pops brought and some Holy H2O balloons. Aim and shoot. See you tonight.” Ethan pushed Savanah backward onto the bed. Climbing atop of her, he crushed her into the mattress. From his new perch, he admitted, “I love you,” then covered her lips with his, kissing her with a passion he’d never experienced. Before she had a chance to say another thing, he added, “When I return, I’m going to kiss you like that starting at your toes and then I’m going to make my way up your luscious thighs and pause where your dreams await me. Dream of that while I’m away saving the world, Savage.” Ethan sprinted toward the door and her sentinels.
Savanah watched his perfectly shaped derriere scoot out the door, too flabbergasted to have any type of comeback.
****
Inside the wrought-iron gated pillars to The City of the Dead, each man paid respects to all those who entered before them with a one way ticket. Ethan took in the orange fireball hogging the sky as it descended toward western lands. The sun cast shadows on different tombs and headstones, adding that spooky-spine-tingling-nails-on-chalkboard-effect he neither wanted nor needed. He’d gotten more than his fair share with Draque and his albino sidekick.
Claustrophobic from birth, the passageways through the cemetery grew more narrow and confining than a straight jacket. Beads of sweat adhered Ethan’s shirt to his chest. Cemented souls lay stacked like pancakes some five or more high, reaching toward the heavens. Others crypts were but a single dwelling, enclosed by intricate iron gates guarded by angels and gargoyles alike. Nothing lay beneath the surface due to the city being at least eight feet below sea level.
In passing Marie Laveau’s tomb, the Highest Voodoo Priestess, Ethan bowed. The tomb seemed too small, too ordinary for her larger than life persona. Scattered flowers lay like a worn carpet around what was left of her little piece of earth.
Hearing a shuffle of gravel, Ethan looked forward. Coming at a good clip, a grisly mutation of a man with a distinct limp closed not only the distance between them, but the exit out.
André looked over Ethan’s shoulder. “Shit, Grimmy, he looks like you when you
wake up.”
With a quick spin Ethan wound his way around Julian. “Guys, that’s Androgen man.”
“How the hell did you get away from him?” André asked mesmerized by the giant it.
Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
André nudged his brother. “Luce, got the spear gun?”
“Aimed and ready. How close should he be?”
“I’d say another fifteen feet. Grimmy, got the taser charged?”
Julian flipped his braid behind him and tucked in all the stray strands of hair behind his ears. “Got more juice flowing through her than the Sunshine state’s got oranges, baby.”
Androgen man stopped, his head cocked to one side, thick white hair covered his shoulders. His piercing orange eyes mimicked the sunset. “Well aren’t you a shifty little bastard?”
Palms in the air, Ethan chided, “Suppose I’ve been called worse.”
“Where’s Draque? We’ve come to pay our respects.” Lucian added, sounding less than respectful.
Androgen man jut his tree trunk of a neck out, and blurted, “Holy voodoo-up-my-arse, if it aint royalty starin’ me in the face.”
“Do we know you?” André asked the stranger. He turned to Lucian. “Do we know him?”
Lucian shook his head no.
“Probably not, but trust me, people here know of you and my guess is your radar’s going right off the charts as we speak. St. James, right? One of you two almost became the King, right?”
Ethan nudged his way around Savanah’s father and Lucian. “What’s he talking about?”
“Didn’t Savanah tell you our past?”
“André, in the past thirty-six hours, your daughter’s passed out on me at least three times, we’ve been drugged, chased and abducted by vampires and assholes,” Ethan tossed his thumb over his shoulder pointing at the mutant. “And been pursued by an overly protective family. We haven’t, as God is my witness, even had time to consummate our relationship yet.”
Lucian’s grin got the best of him. He whispered, “Pity,” as he turned on Androgen man and without warning, exercised his trigger finger on his spear gun. Thud, thud, thud, sounds sailed through the air as each spear impaled the disfigured man, and left him pinned to someone’s mausoleum.
André approached and stopped roughly three feet from the mutant. “Where’s your boss? And no, for your own curiosity, neither myself nor my brother were to be king. You’ve mistaken us.”
“Liar,” he gurgled. “My master makes no mistakes—ever.” Blood dripped in lines down the large man’s lips and pooled on his shirt. “Draque’s flown the proverbial coup.”
Julian strut to him, pressed the stun gun into his groin and asked once, “Where is he?”
When the man laughed at him, Julian pulled the trigger and watched the man’s body dance the electric slide, without the need for twangy music. Spasm after spasm jerked and contracted his muscles involuntarily. The foul aroma of burnt flesh filled the air like a barbeque gone awry. Smoke poured out from under his waistband and zipper. When his head slumped forward, Julian removed the gun.
“Is he dead?” Ethan asked, hoping it was so.
Lucian shook his head. “No, but he’ll wish he was in a few hours. See his lips?” Lucian moved Ethan around to view his face. “Can you imagine how his balls are going to feel? Blue!”
“They already are, what’s left of them.”
“Ethan, did the guy shift on you or is he just bound to this Draque character?” André poked him. “This guy’s solid.”
“He didn’t shift per say, but he’s able to crawl up the side of walls just like an insect, even with me fighting him. He’s also able to do the long jump, about forty feet or better. Check out his hands. They look like suction cups—tentacles. Super-fly!” Ethan jumped into a surfer position, legs spread and arms out to his sides for balance.
He was ignored.
“Luce, how the hell did the guy know us?” André asked.
“Maybe he’s psychic?”
Ethan jumped in André’s face. “Whoa—are you two saying you really are royal? So when Savanah tells me to kiss her royal rump, she really means it?” Ethan found the only trace of humor to be found. “Cripes, I really did get Cinderella and I’m Prince Charming.”
“You definitely are not Prince Charming. And yes, you will kiss her royal little rump when she tells you to or you’ll deal with me chewing yours off. Do we have an accord, Mr. Kitt?” André asked.
Ethan tapped on André’s cheek in passing. Two visible fangs hung down over his lower lip. “Fix the smile, Pops. Come on, let’s get outta here. I got some royal ass-kissing to do.”
Julian nudged Lucian. “I like the kid.”
“Me too.”
Chapter Twelve
Day 7, New Orleans
After being in New Orleans one long, drawn out week, there wasn’t an inch of Louisiana Savanah and her family hadn’t scoured and come up clean. She now knew more about the bayou, Creole cooking and voodoo than humanly possible. She also knew without a doubt Draque had moved to sunnier horizons. Okay, not so much sun, but less people tracking his each and every move.
If only Draque had taken Savanah’s sentinels with him! That would have been splendid. As far as her relationship, Savanah told Ethan they were worse than fugitives. At least prisoners were given conjugal visits.
Wide-freaking awake with a need she couldn’t explain, Savanah tossed and turned. She curled around Ethan, chucked her leg over his, tucked one arm under his, and played with the blond curls on his chest while her dear, sweet, meddling uncle Julian, slept soundly ten feet from them on the couch behind a wall divider strategically placed for privacy. No other rooms at the hotel and no other options! They made due. Her father and other uncle booted him out of their room for snoring.
“Ethan!” Savanah groaned. “Eth, wake up. We need to find somewhere alone. I can’t wait another minute.”
Ethan cranked his neck around to see her. Not a bad wake up call. Couldn’t let her know he felt the same if not worse.
“You just did, sweetie. Forget I can read minds?”
“Ah, Savage. This is unfair. All of it.” Ethan dropped back to his pillow and lowered his voice. “I just want to make love to you. Is it so wrong?” Ethan flipped over and cupped her cheek. “Kiss me for now, pretty lady, since we can’t do much more. Being this close to you is torture.”
She shoved at his chest. “You don’t have to sleep next to me,” she teased.
“That came out wrong. Not taking you in my arms and making love to you is torture. Sound better?”
Savanah wrinkled her nose. “I feel the same way, but…” Savanah’s grin reached ear to ear. “It’s been a week. Know what that means?”
Utter astonishment slapped Ethan’s face. “You did this on purpose. You had your uncle rooming with us all week just to beat me! Just to win my car! You really were going to hold me to a week just to get my car. I’ve been beat at my own game.”
She protested, “I did no such thing. I swear.” She leaned into him, and pressed her lips against his hard, until hers tingled.
He pulled away. “Trying to charm me out of it?”
Eyebrows raised and fighting a smirk she asked, “Is it working?” before she lost it and started to giggle.
In one swift move, Ethan covered Savanah and pinned her under him. Her arms, he brought up in one slow, seductive move above her head, and held her captive.
“This all you got, Mr. Kitt?” She feigned boredom and huffed a curl from her face.
Ethan whispered, “We’ll see.” He leaned a hair’s distance from her lips, licking his.
She watched his tongue trace the outline of his lips. Suddenly she wanted to do that with her tongue, starting with his tongue and working her way down his muscular body to the protrusion poking into her thigh. Savanah pressed her hips into his groin. “Just what are your plans here today, Ethan?”
“This.” Ethan pucke
red and waited and waited and waited until his arms started that slow burn, holding his body weight up over hers. “Shit, woman, are you gonna kiss me or…”
“Love it when men beg!” Savanah met him. With her eyes closed her other senses took hold to enjoy this moment with this man. His lips were warm and soft. His kiss drove her insane, a feeling she oddly enjoyed. Getting a major itch that needed scratching, she pressed her hips into his. A warm fire ignited low in her belly faster than a button on a gas fireplace exploded flames.
He let one arm go, and trailed his fingers down the underside of her arm, tickling her. His lips met hers once again, with a little more oomph. He pushed her back onto the pillow, while his knee nudged her thighs apart.
With the sudden change in position her eyes blew open. She wasn’t in any position to fight him off, nor did she want to, and there in laid the problem.
She broke away from him and licked her lips watching him seemingly mesmerized by the movement of her tongue. “And here I thought you were saving me for your mile high club.”
Ethan’s green eyes glistened with mischief. “Who said I’m not? I’m just getting comfy.”
“Your comfy leaves me in a precarious position, Sir. One a lady might not like compromised.” Even as Savanah spoke, her actions told a different story. Her free arm trailed around Ethan’s back. Sinew rippled beneath her touch. She slipped lower still to the top of his pajama pants and slid her finger just under the waist band, finding nothing between him and his pants. “Commando?” she asked in a playful tone.
He winked. “All-natural, babe.”
I am so screwed.
His erection hit her right between her private lips, and she groaned. “Ummm…”
In a low melodic voice, Ethan asked, “Ever hear one of my favorite songs from the Black Eyed Peas, “Let’s Get it Started?” He brought his hips up to meet her vulnerable spot, and pressed one solid shaft into her.
Savanah closed her eyes, overcome from the sweet, hard sensation. “Tell me you’re not going to sing that song.” She fought the laughter.
He added a punchy swivel of his hips. “I’ll make sweet music to you without the need of actual words. My tongue shall be preoccupied anyway!” His eyebrows shifted a few times.
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