He liked the decorations though as they gave the mansion a more lived in modern century feel. To the cultured it was more like an eighteenth century castle, but in the land of no history but carnage and mass takeovers, aka America, palaces were called mansions.
Royalty were also called celebrities, though his particular brand of royalty was nothing incognizant humans could know about. As a minority, vampires preferred plucking the dummies strings behind the scenes. It was easier to stay hidden and off the IRS’s radar.
Bailing on his run through of progress as he just didn’t care what it looked like or where the hidden DJ booth was placed, Dom ducked into one of the dozens of rooms. Shutting the door against the unnecessary insanity of it, he leaned against it, closing his eyes.
After a moment, Dom headed back to his room. Halfway there, the devil appeared in his path. Limbs long and lean, Selene glided towards him. She was utter perfection and even though he didn’t want them to his eyes roamed her modelesque body. The black gown she wore shimmered like a starry night sky, letting no curve hide a lie.
“Dominic,” she greeted, voice sultry.
Doom nor damnation had ever been more seductive. Oh fair tides, his conscious warned, if love be rough with you, be rough with love as love was meant for someone as tender as a dove. Though was love a tender thing? No, it was too rough, too crude, too rude, too boisterous and unrighteous, and pricked like a thorn as sharp as the devils horn.
“Selene,” Dom said, knowing the coldness in his tone could not dampen the smolder in his eyes.
She pouted. “In a bad mood I see.”
Dom glared. “Always with you.”
Nearing her, he was about to pass when Selene grabbed his shirt and shoved him against the wall. Dom couldn’t help but laugh at this surprise, enjoying the roughness.
Pressing against him, she whispered in his ear, “Happy birthday Dominic.”
Dom closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her, inhaling her neck as her hands slid down his chest to his hips. He opened them as she pulled away. Her heavy lidded black eyes gleamed with unnatural silver in the shadow. Pushing her finger to the tip of her fang, she pierced it, sprouting a large drop of blood.
Dom’s eyes fastened on it and Selene laughed. She trailed her finger over his bottom lip coating it in crimson. Unable to deny himself this treasure, his tongue darted out to taste the forbidden pleasure. Selene pushed her finger in his mouth, running it over his tongue.
Without his permission his body shuddered and a moan escaped his throat. Grabbing him by the jaw, she yanked his mouth to hers, kissing him hard.
Dom couldn’t stop his hands from exploring heaven as their tongues swirled. Running his hands down her thighs, he began to pull up her gown knowing an empty room lay five feet away, when she suddenly shoved away from him. Gaze feverish, Dom watched her back away, not quite sure what had happened.
Licking her red lips, Selene wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and laughed.
“I love the taste of my own blood,” she said, eyes alight with amusement.
Enraged, Dom’s lips peeled back in a snarl.
“I have to change,” she said, unthreatened. “See you at the party.”
“Cock tease,” he spat, glaring after her.
She tossed her head back and laughed as she strode away.
“Bitch.” It lingered lamely in the now empty hall.
Using his sleeve, Dom rubbed his mouth to rid it of her taste, but her scent still swarmed his senses, her blood bitter sweet poison on his tongue.
+ Chapter 4 +
Vampire Bourne
Escaping Andre wasn’t easy and made her stomach a little queasy. At ten-forty-five p.m. Paul, who drew the short straw, picked her up alone. Ready to tail, Andre followed them a car behind.
“Is it set?” Pan asked, watching Andre in the rearview mirror.
Knowing how furious he would be to lose her, rather than feeling worried about his wrath, Pan was excited by it. It was a downfall of the vampire born to have no concept of fear. An aspect Pan was greatly affected by since she was so guarded and protected.
“Yep.” He sounded nervous.
Pan giggled. “Are you scared?”
“Ah, yeah, a little.”
Pan tweaked his ear. “You big pussy.” She laughed as he swatted her away.
Heading for the downtown shopping centers, Paul pulled into an eight floor parking structure. Going up the ramp, Andre had to stop for a ticket then follow up behind.
“Hurry, hurry,” Pan said.
“Look for a parking spot,” he said, apprehensive.
Scanning, Pan took off her seatbelt, ready to bolt. “We need one close to the elevator. There!”
Paul quickly swerved in where she pointed and they jumped out walking fast for the elevator. He made to look behind him as Andre was just pulling into a parking space.
“Don’t,” Pan hissed, and he stopped before his head was completely turned. “He’ll pick up on your nerves, just be calm.”
The plan was to get on the elevator before him. Pan wasn’t worried about that part as Andre gave her space and followed as a shadow rather than an annoyance. He’d take the second elevator and all they needed was for him to see the floor they were supposed to stop on lit on the board above.
Stepping in, Paul hit the ground floor button. The doors just started to close as Andre approached, handsome as ever with his strong jaw and sandy blond hair, his long black leather coat billowing behind him.
As the doors sealed, Pan let out a breath and silently counted to fifteen then hit the second floor button. That should be enough time for Andre to have boarded the second elevator.
The elevator stopped. Bell dinging as the doors slid open they broke out running. They didn’t have to go far since the BMW R1200R Boxer style motorcycle Brighton had stashed with two helmets was waiting in the first parking space.
Throwing her a helmet, Paul forced his on and threw his leg over the bike. Pan felt like there should be some fast pace action music playing in the background.
“This is so exciting! It’s like one of those Matt Damon movies,” she said, climbing on behind him as he started it, pulling the choke.
“Only I’ll be the one to die if we get caught,” he said.
She clutched him tight, knees at his sides as he quickly backed out. Giving the clutch a tight squeeze they shot forward and were off zooming down the ramp, engine roaring.
Using his sharpened senses, Paul maneuvered the bike with ease. They had just hit the ground floor when the elevator doors slid open and Andre stepped out. His face contorted in fury as they rocketed past.
“Pan!” he roared as Paul jumped the sidewalk to get around the pole, the attendant flailing his arms for them to stop.
Andre blurred after them, but had to stop reaching the street filled with people strolling the sidewalks.
It worked! They were free! Or so she thought.
Blocked by traffic, Paul slowed. Looking back, she saw Andre running towards them.
“Do something!” Pan said, pushing Paul to go, tugging on his shirt.
Paul gunned the bike and they shot forward narrowly missing sideswiping the car next to them as he maneuvered to ride between the lanes. Pan looked back to see Andre fall away. He doubled back to the garage, vanishing inside. In seconds flat he’d be to the Hummer and chasing after them.
“Go! Go!” Pan urged in excitement. “Faster!”
Cars honked as Paul swerved, weaving in and out of the traffic.
Pan laughed at the thrill of it.
Fifteen minutes later they reached the others waiting for them at Neon Geon’s Rolladium, the lights shining off of Brighton’s cherry red BMW.
Paul pulled up beside them. They stood from leaning against it, Danna twirling her hair and popping her gum. Pan loved her dearly, but she looked like a hooker in her short, short skirt. She wore it well as she was such a flirt.
Brighton circled the bike checking for damage. Pa
n pulled off the helmet and Danna and Isla were right there to fix her hair.
“Relax,” Paul said. “I ride her better than you do.”
Brighton’s brows shot up. “Don’t pretend now. We all remember that last bike you mutilated.”
“You gonna hold that over my head forever?”
“Are you kidding? It was a hundred and fifty thousand dollar bike. Hell, yeah, I am.”
“Let’s go before Andre finds us or one of the soldiers do,” Pan said.
Brighton glanced at her then did a double take, his mouth falling open.
Pan smiled and twirled, holding out her full skirt. “Do I look pretty?”
“Pretty is weak compared to the vision you are. You are a mix of tempting siren and mischievous pixie. Otherwise…perfect.”
Her dress a fire engine red it was clear she wasn’t trying to hide. Strapless, it was tight around the bust with a thin flat bow around the waist, the skirt itself poofed out, a sparkly layer of red tulle beneath. To match she wore shiny patent leather Mary Jane wedges and a jeweled cherry barrette to hold the small side of her parted hair back, nails and lips painted to match.
“Seriously,” Danna said. “Could you be any more obvious?”
Pan shrugged. “Red looks good on me.”
Danna rolled her eyes. “You’re a Rose, you were born to wear red. If I had known you were going to be flashy I would have worn something besides black. It’s so drab.”
“I think drab is the last problem of what you’re wearing,” Isla said, in one of her brave quips.
Hand cocked on her hip, Danna’s eyes narrowed as she popped her gum.
“That wasn’t half bad,” she said, and Isla beamed.
“Nobody cares,” Brighton said. “You’re all hot, get in the damn car.” But he winked at Pan.
Paul opened the passenger door for her. “My lovely Princess,” he said, bowing.
Turning from Verona Blvd. onto Shady Lane in Gray territory, they all let out breaths, looking around at each other. The pounding music vibrated night, reaching them before they turned onto the private drive. The going was slow as they edged forward behind a long line of cars all ranging from classic muscle to Lamborghini’s, Porsche, Bugatti, Maserati, Audi, Ferrari, and Mercedes, everything of the elite.
The mansion glowed like Venus, purple lights streaming from every surface, wrapped around every tree in the front, a black void of forest stretching on in the back.
“Okay, now I’m nervous,” Brighton said, as they neared a large muscular vampire checking invitations. He glanced at Pan, eyes a little wide.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m scared for you.”
“I haven’t been revealed to the Covens yet. They have no clue what I look like.”
He watched her a moment then nodded, reassured. Flashing the invitation, the vampire waved them through. It was that easy.
A long row of motorcycles across from them, Brighton parked close to the entrance with enough room to get out. “Just in case,” he said. Pan didn’t do in-cases, Princesses only gambled in certainties.
Climbing the stairs, Brighton offered his arm. Taking it, Pan could barely contain her excitement. A mix of electronic and metal music blasted the air, vibrating up through her feet. Strobe lights flashed making eyes gleam silver. Leather, pleather, and feather encased bodies were mashed together dancing. Some vampires wore wild costumes, a couple with giant glittery wings, elaborate masks, others in lace, latex, spikes, the dominatrix types.
“Yum,” Pan said, licking her lips, spying a bar offering drinks spiked with blood. She bounced at Brighton’s side and tugged his arm. “Let’s go there!”
They headed over, maneuvering through the crowd.
“Gimme, gimme,” Pan said as Paul passed her one.
Sipping it, her eyes closed in pleasure at the taste of heavens treasure. Brighton wrapped his arm around her waist in a state of claim. Danna’s nostrils flared, her eyes narrowing in on it. Downing her drink, Danna snatched another.
“Easy there lush,” Paul said.
“Shut up,” she snapped.
Brighton tried kissing on Pan’s neck, but she turned away from his lips. He was bolder lately, trying to be more dominating which wasn’t like him. He was the klutzy, clumsy, good natured, laughed at friend. It was annoying enough she had Raphael trying to grope her all the time, she didn’t need to put up with one of her friends trying to mark her as well.
Taking the hint, Brighton dropped his arm. Sipping and holding their drinks as if to obscure their faces, Isla and Paul kept glancing around nervously.
“Keep still would you,” Pan said. “No one is looking at us suspiciously and if they are it’s because you’re looking suspicious! You’re single, go dance and mingle.” Annoyed, she flapped her hand at them to get away.
“Dance with Gray’s!” Isla said, appalled. “Are you insane? They’re the heart of our bane!”
“Shh!” Danna said, casting around.
A couple of lace encased females looked around as they began to argue. If they were going to get caught, she wasn’t going down with them. Pan wandered away to look around.
In the entrance was a split staircase that lead up to a balcony where more sexually charged bodies writhed and swayed like seductive creatures from another universe. Beneath the stairway, vampires lazed on settees, suckling on the necks and arms of willing humans. She hadn’t fed on a human yet, but protesting ones didn’t moan like that.
Sipping her drink, Pan twirled in delight, laughing. It was all so magical! There was a euphoric sexual buzz in the air that made her body hum and tingle in excitement, like fingers trailing up her spine.
It was all so glorious. The vampires so marvelous and free not held back by rigid and frivolous expectations. And for tonight she could be one of them.
Pan spun again and didn’t stop.
+ Chapter 5 +
Here Winks the Sphinx
Pushing open the double doors, Dom walked fast across the balcony. He didn’t need to shove people out of his way as they simply parted for him like the Red Sea.
“It’s your night!” Katzen said, throwing his arms open to take it all in. He wore a colorful silk shirt with geisha girls on it, unbuttoned to show off his full body irezumi tattoos. “It’s your birthday!” He grabbed a girl and spun her, then slapped her on the ass and sent her walking. “Selene shines for you tonight and only you my dear friend.” Katzen grabbed Dom’s shoulder and steered him to the railing, forcing him to look below. “And in more ways than one,” he said, pointing her out, tone loaded with suggestion.
Glaring at him, Dom looked from Katzen’s slanted eerie jade green eyes, to Selene. He watched her writhe in dance as her silk dress slithered over her form, nipples poking through, showing him everything he wanted and couldn’t have. It drove him mad.
Dom licked his fangs, remembering her blood, her taste…
Unfortunately it wasn’t the taste he wanted.
There was a break in his lust as he snarled. He was sick of being taunted, sick of the devout religion of his eye when he knew it contained such falsehood that turned tears to fire and made wise men liars as those who often drowned could never die.
“I grow tired of Selene and her games,” Dom growled.
“Then if it’s not Selene you want, hunt the other earth treading stars that make the dark heaven light on this night. Find one that will make you think your swan a crow.”
“Poor Dominic,” said the reason of his ill season, Deacon, whose hair was flaming red as his fiery temper. “You say that every time yet when Selene crooks her finger you go running.”
Dom bared his teeth at him and Deacon chuckled.
“My feet won’t fly so swiftly to her sweet angelic face, especially when her intentions are that of a demonic temptress. She’s all show and no give.”
Dom started walking again, though he couldn’t help but glance down at her.
Wearing his usual white dress shirt and sleek gr
ay suit with unlaced army boots so his pants bunched in them, Urijah followed at his side, his blood cousin and constant shadow. And short little long blond haired Elle followed at Urijah’s side, his constant shadow. If possible she was even quieter than Urijah himself, though she wasn’t as fierce. Urijah was the most lethal vampire Dom had ever encountered.
“I don’t know why you put up wit her anyway,” Dove said, his English accent heavy. His skin was as black as night, the sides of his head shaved the middle a hedge Mohawk.
“Because he’s in love with her,” Deacon said, his tone suggesting at any moment he would start making kissing sounds.
Whirling around, Dom grabbed Deacon by the throat. A few vampires hedged away.
“If you value your tongue you will not utter that word in reference to her,” Dom said.
Deacon swallowed, Adams apple bobbing under Dom’s hand. “That’s all you had to say my friend,” Deacon said, choked.
“My friend? I’m not so sure a friend would add torment to torture.”
Deacon gulped. “Forgive me.”
Making an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, Dom shoved him away.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded of the attack on newborn Rose’s. Leaning back on the railing he waited for an answer.
Deacon rubbed his throat. “I was thinking I wanted to have a little fun. They were in our territory and bit their thumbs at me. I enforced our boundaries.”
“You killed one. You’re lucky it wasn’t of vampire birthing or else their retaliation would be massive.”
Deacon shrugged. “The strong survive, the weak perish and I’ll gladly help them along the way.”
Dom shook his head. There was no reasoning with him. He knew this, so why try.
“Don’t do it again,” he ordered. “Not without seeing me or Ellis. You could start an all-out war.”
“We’re already at war,” Deacon bit out. “Would you rather have them get away with it so they don’t learn and keep pushing our boundaries? They were in our territory!”
The Dark Rose Page 3