Dom shook his head again and turned to look out over the floor, elbows on the railing. Scanning below, a blinding red light flashed in his eyes like a beacon. Dom blinked against it, narrowing his eyes to see. He sucked in a breath, eyes widening to take her in.
She was the sun, the moon, the stars, blinking to say hello, I have found thee and you have now found me. Indeed he had, as his heart had never loved till this sight, only knowing dark silence, now dawning like the larks calls in the morning light, for it never saw true beauty until this night.
The beacon was her barrette, sparkling in the light as she twirled and danced, tossing her head about, her long chocolate brunette hair rippling in rolling waves. She wore an expression of bliss on her heart shaped face. Her big doe brown eyes, thick and lustrous with black lashes, gleamed in elation from some unknown source of happiness. Widows was her peak, ivory was her pure flesh and impish intent her smile seemed to confess.
From yonder shadows dark and steep, his demon peeked its head from deep within its keep. Looking in wonder, eyes orb with pine as he watched her twirl, it whispered—mine.
Dom imagined everyone fading away, a beam of light falling on her as she spun. She stopped, looking right at him with huge innocent Bambi eyes then burst into a glorious smile and blew him a kiss, heart bubbles floating up around her.
“Yours,” she said, and winked.
The bubbles popped and his fantasy stopped. The crowd was thick and his little Pixie danced on, having no clue she blew him a kiss.
Urijah leaned by him. “She’s a Rose,” he said, audible for only him to hear. “The Rose Princess to be exact.”
Dom didn’t doubt his knowledge as Urijah knew everything there was about anything that was going on.
The Rose Princess indeed, Dom thought as she shone the most vibrant among this entire world of Gray. A dead giveaway, as she glowed too richly for the mere earth to endure, so it sent her to be a jewel that hangs upon the cheek of night, like the light that teaches the torches to burn bright.
He had heard of Pandora Rose, Victor Rose’s darling daughter and most prized possession. And Dom could see why as she would be any man’s obsession.
“Came with four others,” Urijah continued. “They were spotted coming in, but I ordered to wait with attack until you knew. I doubt they mean harm, but are only looking for a little fun. The sentinels are talking kidnap and ransom for the Princess. They’re preparing.”
Dom shot Urijah a lethal look as a feeling of unexplainable protectiveness boiled up in him. He felt a snarl building in his throat at the thought of harm befalling her all because she chanced to dance and romance at his party.
“What do you want me to tell them and tell them quick before the wrong ear is to hear?”
Dom glanced murderously at Deacon, who was laughing with Katzen and Dove. Deacon would spare no mercy if he was to find out. He would savage and ravage her.
Composing himself physically, Dom straightened up, walking again, needing to get away before the mental image of Deacon brutally beating her drove him to attack his own sentinel for no good reason.
“Tell them…they saw nothing.” Dom spoke with a calmness he didn’t feel.
Urijah didn’t follow him and that was sign for the others not to as well. “And what do you see?”
Dom glanced over his shoulder, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Prey,” he said, flashing fang.
Beautiful blood guts and gore, it was like that but more. He couldn’t look away, her every twirl and swirl held his sway. Dom kept his eyes fixated on her, the grace of her small petite frame drawing him like game.
I dreamt a dream tonight and so I see, there she be, he thought. But dreamers eyes often lie as they seek so hard to find that divine heart sigh.
Moonshines watery beams illuminate lovers brains as they dream of love and ladies lips, though sometimes deceive as it isn’t a dream, but a nightmare in gleam that blisters the kisses with plagues of vain fantasies.
“But music drums in my ears at which I wonder and believe to be awake.” Dom searched for slumbers mist. Pinched, he looked back to his lovely drop of blood in a flood of Gray, but nearing the stairs, a group of vampires stepped in his way. Losing sight of her, Dom shoved through them. Reaching the steps, he looked franticly for that flash of rose red, his guiding light. Finding her twirl, he thought, blink, blink again and be sure.
Dom blinked.
In relief that she wasn’t an illusion, his heart seemed to— “Sigh,” he said, and rubbed his chest. “I dreamt a dream tonight,” he whispered in awe. “And so I see…there she be.”
Descending the stairs, he headed purposefully for her. Not once did his gaze waver even when Selene sought his favor.
“Dominic, the birthday boy,” she said, smiling, appearing at his side.
Possible was the supposed impossible as with ease he ignored her, continuing towards his destination.
“Dance with me,” Selene said, draping herself on him.
Pulling her arms from around his neck, Dom pushed her away.
Selene frowned. “Dom?” she said, but suddenly laughed as if it had been a mistake and came at him again.
Dom looked around her, spotting his salvation, having not a care his existence was now in his foes debt.
“Don’t be sour about earlier,” Selene said, a mixture of sweetness and poutiness. “I was only playing. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
As she leaned in to kiss him, Dom ducked out of her jailing arms making her stumble forward or fall.
“Dominic!” she shrieked, gaping after him as he strode away.
Moving unseen in the shadows, Dom watched his prey with unwavering intensity. He had never seen anyone or thing more captivating. She danced like a mysterious sphinx, drawing him in with a need to decipher the riddle her body displayed as her barrette twinkled and winked, taunting him to come and play.
But he saw he was not the only one to answer her siren call. Shadowed in the bodies, hungry ginger eyes glowed with a predatorial lust as they watched his flowered gem. Dom stiffened in alert as the ghostly hand of a son of Knight reached to claim her wrist and pull her out of sight.
Growling low in the back of his throat, his command found its stand as the ginger eyes flickered up, meeting his across the room. The authority in his glare made the vampire withdraw his quest and fade into the shadows sensing it for the best.
Now, Dom wondered. How best to approach her?
Move not quickly, his demon answered, and startle my gazelle, whom I cannot allow any fright to befell, but moving so slow is not quick enough as a kiss is my wish for my sin be purged. This I urge not for my souls salvation but the taste of her lips for I have already seen damnation and in her dawn—I welcome it.
+ Chapter 6 +
The Archangel
The room was spinning or was it she? Lights flashed, the music pounded up through her feet to end thumping in her chest, or was that her heart, racing with thrill? Was this even real? Oh it didn’t matter. She was having so much fun! She never wanted it to end.
Tossing her head around, Pan spun, jumping up and down. She twirled and startled noticing astonishing Caribbean aqua eyes watching her with a frightening intensity that penetrated her to the core. Submerged in the shadows a tall figure leaned against a pillar mostly hidden save for the gleam of his eyes.
Self-conscious of what to do or how to move, Pan turned away to dance, but it did nothing to offer a reprieve from the heat of his gaze. Glancing over her shoulder, Pan found he had begun to circle behind the columns, stalking her, eyes still locked on her. Pan didn’t know whether to ignore him and keep dancing or walk away. Or more like run away. She hadn’t intended to draw attention like this, but she couldn’t help dancing. It had been so long since she felt this free.
Pan watched him shyly over her shoulder as he moved behind a group passing around a human each taking turns suckling on his veins. Pan didn’t think she would be able to walk away; transfixed she couldn’t eve
n tear her eyes from his. Having completely circled her, her heart pounded when he strode boldly out of the shadows, heading directly for her.
Pan’s eyes widened. He was pure Godly perfection. Tall and lean, his carved muscles visible through his sheer black button up shirt, rosary beads dangling beneath. His face was that of an avenging archangel, strong jaw and narrow nose, yet charmingly handsome. Short black messy hair obscured part of his forehead, but made his island pacific eyes glow like otherworldly jewels.
Pan stood in some form of bewitched trance, simply absorbing him with wide eyes as he stopped in front of her. She gulped. He could kill her if he wished; she would have made no fight, but instead he bowed and proffered his hand.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, looking up at her from under his hair.
Surprised, Pan smiled. She placed her hand in his larger one. “You may.”
He pulled her into a tender embrace, wrapping his arms around her. Momentarily startled by such closeness, Pan fell into the sway. Bringing her arms up to hold his shoulders, she gazed up at him. Everyone seemed to melt away blurring and fading into the ever after as they remained creatures of the arcane.
His eyes fell to her mouth and he bent to kiss her. Startled, Pan ducked her face, eyes downcast on the crown crest on the floor. What if Brighton or the others saw her kissing him? He was a Gray that much was obvious. She shouldn’t even be dancing with him. Everything about this was forbidden.
Pan withdrew from his hold. He frowned as she made to walk away, but he caught her hand, pulling her back.
“You leave now and you’ll surely be a thief,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist, his voice smooth as velvet.
Pan looked at him alarmed. “You’re words confuse me. I haven’t stolen anything.”
He rested his head against hers, nose at her temple. He breathed her in and sighed.
“You have stolen my heart,” he whispered.
An inner peace seemed to sigh in her as well. Pan rested her head against his, inhaling him, wanting to cement his scent and forget nothing of this moment.
“That is insane,” she breathed. “A shuttered moment in the time of eternity cannot define one soul to another to justify such a statement. Not enough to make such a claim and risk their heart to a stranger.”
He smiled. “You are no stranger.”
Did he know she was a Rose? Terror should have froze her, yet it didn’t. In his arms, she felt safe. Pan demurely met his eyes from inches away.
“You are the possessor of my sanity,” he said. “I know you very intimately now.”
Pan laughed. “You hold me in higher esteem than I deserve, sir. I can be very selfish so be warned—do not offer me something I will never give back.”
“I beg, I beg,” he said intensely, yet playful. “Keep me prisoner.” But sliding his hands along her arms it was her wrists he shackled. He brought them around his neck. “I am yours and will eagerly accept your bounds. I am at your mercy and I beg, I beg! you have it and spare the misery gripping me every moment longer I go without knowing the sweet brush of your lush lips.” He lowered and kissed her bare shoulder. “Could you be so kind to smooth this rough touch with a tender kiss?”
Pan giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. He was utterly absurd! What rough touch could he possibly mean? His words were sweet, delicious to the ears, his touch divine.
He suddenly pulled her hand away and swooped, kissing her. Pan jerked away, bowing her head. He ducked his to her level, hovering an inch from her mouth, breath warm and sweet.
Letting out a shaky breath, Pan peeked up at him. He didn’t kiss her, but his eyes were locked on her lips waiting for permission. What cruelty it would be to deny herself a taste of his bliss. And, reasonably, it—was only a kiss.
Slowly turning her face up, Pan met his lips. His breath shuddered out. He dropped his hands from her waist and brought them up to tenderly hold her face. Pan opened her mouth further in invitation to deepen their kiss. He didn’t hesitate, but took full advantage, his tongue swirling in.
Cold gusts meeting fiery heat create perfect temperatures for lightning to meet. A zing shot through them like a static shock. Pan sucked in a sharp breath and looked at him startled. It felt as if their souls had seared together.
“Did you feel that?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He grinned.
Grabbing her waist, he suddenly spun her out. Pan twirled, laughing with delight. He smiled and spun her back into his arms, her back pressed to his chest as they swayed. His lips brushed against her ear then dropped to her shoulder. Pan turned to meet his lips.
He transferred his arm to hold her across the chest. Breaking their kiss to catch her breath, he grazed his nose against her cheek.
Turning, he dipped her. Pan closed her eyes, tilting her head back. The kiss he placed upon her neck sent shivers through her. He chuckled, feeling them and kissed the hollow of her throat. Pan shivered again and he laughed. He pulled her back into his arms, hers folded against his chest.
Never had such happiness, such freedom, such…love compressed upon her chest as he locked away her heart stealing the key from the rest. Pan searched his azure eyes, hoping to find the same intensity in them as she felt for him. She didn’t have hard to look as it shone pure and true like the dazzling sea they resembled.
Eyes dancing, he lowered to kiss her again, but something caught his gaze, stopping him.
Looking beyond her, his eyes were quick to fill with darkness, stealing away their light.
Pan frowned at his sudden fierceness. It was frightening, yet she didn’t feel threatened.
She wanted to run her fingers over the tense lines of his mouth, smoothing it into a roguish smile again.
Glancing around, Pan found the recipients of his glare: a group of vampires heading their way. The one in the lead with flaming orange hair looked mean, shoving others out of his path. He wore a black t-shirt with a praying Jesus weeping blood, wearing a crown of thorns.
Pan looked back to her nameless love. His grip tightened on her possessively.
“What’s the matter?” Pan asked, worried. But she suddenly saw Brighton and the others shoving through the crowd towards her.
No, she thought adamantly. Pan shook her head. This couldn’t be it. Not so soon. Not when she didn’t even know his name…
Pan met his dark brooding expression with desperation of not wanting it to end. His mouth settled with grim determination.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
Her answer was quick and unhesitating. “Yes.”
His grin flashed and Pan laughed, happy to see it again. Taking her hand he pulled her through the crowd, using his larger body to cut a path. They ducked into a huge dark room. From the moonlight shining in through the tall windows Pan recognized it as a library, the walls towering with shelves of world literature.
High from this new wonderful buzz, Pan laughed at their escape.
He grinned, closing the doors. “What are you laughing about?”
Pan shook her head. “Nothing.” Botticelli himself couldn’t erase the smile from her face.
Twining his fingers with hers, his grin was sin as he backed her into the wall, raising her arms above her head, and kissed her. The doors suddenly banged open and Pan jumped. Light spilled in and the shadows of the vampires coming in stretched along the floor.
They both laughed and the vampires looked around at them, shock exploding onto their faces. Pan covered her mouth as he dragged her away. Running through a door at the other end of the room, they ran down a hall.
“Here, here,” he said, stopping quickly and Pan slid.
He pulled her back and kissed her. And then they were off racing up some stairs. He stopped halfway up to kiss her again and stumbled, his feet and lips unable to synchronize. Laughing, Pan grabbed his waist to keep him from falling down the rest of the way. Taking her hand, they ran up. Reaching the top, they ran for another room, but voices met them and as he tried to
stop he slid on the floor.
Scrambling to get away before they were seen, he spun her into the shadows of a pillar, hiding her with his body as the group passed. Pressed hard against him, Pan looked up at him with big eyes. She had never been this close to any other male other than Brighton and Paul and with them it never felt this sexual. She gulped. It was exhilarating.
A smile pulled at his lips. He lowered to her mouth. Their kiss had barely reached full potential when another door banged open. He groaned, resting his forehead against hers.
“Ready?” he asked, breathless.
Pan nodded. “Yes.”
He took her hand and they ran. He dodged into a secluded alcove, pulling her with him.
“Alone at last,” he murmured, running his hand down her back.
He kissed the corner of her lips. Pan sighed, closing her eyes as he then sweetly kissed her cheek and temple. Running his thumb over her bottom lip, Pan looked to see him smiling at her lovingly.
“I fear,” he said heavily, resting his head against hers. “That a fire burning as red as your dress has burned into my heart. You have captured me.”
“My prisoner,” she laughed.
He kissed the freckle under her eye. “Take me mind, body and soul, I am ruled by you, yours to do with as you please.”
Pan tilted her head back so he could kiss her neck, wrapping her arms under his, gripping his back. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Pan!”
She jolted hearing Brighton’s frantic voice. They were running at her in a panic. She looked back to him with sad eyes. There was no getting away this time. Never had she known such love and never had she known such pain. Both far from mundane with her love so newly gained.
“I must go,” she said, hurt heavy in her voice.
He gripped her tighter. “No.”
“We must leave!” Brighton said, running up and grabbing her wrist. He took a moment to scowl at her nameless love. “Who’s he?” he demanded with scorn.
“We have to go!” Paul said. “Now!”
The Dark Rose Page 4