Sonnet gazed up at him under heavy lids.
“Right now, it is.”
“Only now? What happens later?”
Sonnet ran her fingers down the side of his cheek; a seductive smile spread across her face, smoothing the contours of her features.
“Later’s a long way off. Let’s live for now.”
Bane couldn’t believe what he was about to say. Between hard clenched teeth, he took a deep breath and stepped away, his back pressing against the wall of the elevator.
“That’s not enough for me, little fox.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sonnet turned away, hiding her embarrassment. She’d thrown herself at the vampire like a wanton ho-bag, only to be denied. What the hell had she been thinking? His handsome face, gentlemanlike treatment of her, and those looks he’d been giving her had been too much to resist.
Had she been misreading his interest? Maybe so. She’d never been chased before, and apparently, that hadn’t changed.
Sonnet’s back was to Bane. He saw her head drop and noticed how her body language switched from one of arousal, to an awkward state of discomfort. He blew out a breath, decision made.
“The last thing I want is to ruin anything. But it seems I may be doing exactly that.” He paused, waiting for her to speak, but she stayed quiet, so he continued. “I hope you understand that you’re not just a conquest of fancy to me. I want all of you, little fox, and a quick romp between the sheets will never be enough to quench my hunger for you. So I’d rather wait until I can feast on your body whenever I want, and not only as a means to scratch an itch.”
Sonnet turned, her expression softer.
“I just met you, and I’m not ready for anything serious.”
He reached over and ran the ball of his thumb over Sonnet’s pouty lips.
With a whisper, he said, “Then, it’s my job to make you ready. And I take my duties very seriously.”
The elevator door dinged open, and with it, the sound of a sharp howl split the air.
Bane’s arm flashed out, pulling Sonnet deeper inside the elevator, while he stepped out of it. Dazed, she stood still, but then realized she wasn’t a cower-and-hide-in-the-elevator type of gal.
Damn vampire.
“Where is she?” A deep voice roared.
Sonnet lunged out of the elevator before the doors closed, landing crouched on one knee, her feet and one hand touching the ground. Somehow, between her confusion and an astronomical adrenaline spike, she had grabbed hold of the stake that Bane had given her. She had it gripped tightly in her hand. Sonnet had never felt such a drive to attack before. A rush of power coursed through her system. It was a freeing experience. Her eyes swept the area, searching for any threat.
“Stay where you are!” Bane yelled at a man several feet away from them.
The wild man had tousled blonde hair that covered most of his furious features and dark brown eyes, which were focused with deadly intent on Bane.
“I know you brought her here, Bane. Emely already told me.”
Sonnet stood, her face a mask of surprise.
“Ryker?”
At the sight of Sonnet, Ryker visibly reined in his anger.
“Hi, pal. Sorry to break up the fun, but I’m takin’ your ass away from this place.”
The edge to his demand made her worry, but the adrenaline fueling her body told her another story. She was strong there, and she liked it.
“I don’t want to leave this place, Ryker.”
The rage showed on his face as he stomped forward. Bane stepped between them, stopping him from getting too close to Sonnet.
After Ryker let out a low growl of warning, he said, “Don’t interfere, blood sucker. Sonnet’s my friend.”
Sonnet stuffed the stake inside her waistband, behind her back, and tilted her head to the side.
“Why are you growlin’ like a werewo...? You’re a damn werewolf, aren’t you? Just like Emely!”
Ryker’s stare shot to Sonnet. It was still glazed over with anger, making the two shiny orbs seem darker than normal. He gave Bane a sideways look that said, just try and stop me, as he walked around him, to settle in front of Sonnet.
As Bane dropped fang, his face morphed into something out of a nightmare.
Having never seen him that mad before, Sonnet found it exciting and terrifying all at once.
In a streak of white, Bane had Ryker in a head lock, his fangs hovering less than an inch from a bulging vein that strained from the pull at his neck.
“I will kill you if you take one more step, mutt. Sonnet is mine.”
“Let me fuckin’ go,” Ryker hissed.
“Give me your word that you’ll leave Sonnet alone.”
“Never.”
Moved by something primal, Sonnet stepped forward and said, “When you two are done comparin’ dicks, I’ll be at the bar. Ryker, lucky for you, almost nothin’ surprises me anymore. But you still owe me an explanation.”
She turned, her long hair flipping out to surf the air, and walked away from the fangy vamp and the growling wolf.
Surprise washed over both of their faces at Sonnet’s statement and her abrupt retreat.
“You can let me go now, Bane. I think she’s decided to stay here.”
Bane looked from Sonnet, to Ryker, who was wrenched tight in the crook of his arm.
“I suppose you’re right. But you’re still an idiot.”
As Bane released Ryker, the wolf stumbled a few steps forward, rubbing at his neck.
“Why did you bring her here, man? You know it’s dangerous for a hunter to be around so many supernatural creatures.”
“It couldn’t be helped.”
Sneering, Ryker said, “I doubt that.”
Sonnet’s voice traveled over the space separating them, saying, “Are you guys done yet?”
Bane turned and headed toward Sonnet. Ryker caught the expression of humor on her face and smiled back. Resigned, he followed Bane over to the bar.
Ryker thought about how different things could have been if he told her the truth about his nature sooner. But it was a direct order from his alpha never to divulge what he was to outsiders. That’s why he and Emely always took the masking potion before leaving the city. Under its influence, not even a hunter could tell what they were.
Chapter Fourteen
As Bane sat next to Sonnet, she gave him a side glance.
“So, whose ended up being bigger?”
Bane didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted one brow and smiled at her in a way that said, Do you even have to ask?
Ryker sat on the other side of her.
“You two aren’t funny.”
Suddenly, anxiety formed in the pit of Sonnet’s gut. It boomed out a warning, pounding harder with each passing second. Sonnet licked soda from her lips before taking another tug from the straw in her mouth. She’d already had enough booze, so soda would have to do.
“Remy is here,” she said.
“Great,” Ryker growled, and then sunk into his seat.
Did he always growl like that when he spoke? Or does Phantom City bring more of his supernatural side out of him, just like it does with me?
Remy appeared before them, on the other side of the bar, walking out from the back room like he was one of the demon bartenders. But it was apparent to anyone within a twenty-mile radius that the towering dark mountain wasn’t one of the help. He was the head demon in charge.
Sonnet smiled at him, hiding her apprehension with a soft tap of her foot against the bottom rung of the barstool.
“We came here, like you asked. Are you ready to help us now?”
Remy looked at her like he was contemplating murder, but instead, decided to only dally with his prey—Sonnet.
“What is it that you need from me, hunter?”
“Show him the drawing,” Bane said.
She dragged her eyes away from the demon’s cold stare as she pulled the piece of paper out of her jacket pocket and held it out to
him.
“The sketch, well, pretty much sucks, but Bane thinks he knows who the guy is.”
“Does he? Interesting.”
He took the paper from her hand.
Bane leaned forward and stabbed the middle of the picture.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Donovan. Look at the bull’s-eye tattoo the artist drew across the man’s chest.”
Remy studied it for a fraction of a second.
“It would appear that you’re right.”
Sonnet watched them both in silence, daring to believe there was a good chance that the demon could lead her to the vampire who took Kelly.
With her heart beating faster, she asked, “Do you know where I can find this Donovan guy?”
Remy glanced around the club and then stared her in the eyes.
“I do.”
Stirring her drink, she said, “Okay, good. Where is he?”
Remy walked over to one of the bartenders. The man was almost as tall as he was, but not as muscular. His hair and skin were both light green, another demon.
Sonnet scanned the bar, searching for Anya. She liked the little blue demon and found herself wondering where she was.
“This information won’t come cheap,” Ryker said.
He was sitting straighter in his seat, with an amber drink in front of him. Sonnet hadn’t seen a bartender put it there.
Bane’s hand came down over hers, and with a solemn expression, he said, “Your pain-in-the-ass friend is right. He’ll want a taste of your blood.”
Curiosity, humor, and her eagerness to find the missing girl all disappeared at hearing that. Her hand flew to her neck, tracing the puckered scar there.
“That may be the one price I can’t pay.”
Setting his glass aside, Ryker looked at her. Bane turned to face her, with his legs straddling the stool she was in. Both of the men seemed serious, with stern faces awash with concern.
“I’ve been eyeing that scar from the moment we met, little fox, but I knew better than to ask about it.”
Ryker said, “Same goes for me.”
Sonnet blinked and dropped her hand. A Midori Sour appeared in front of her, and the only hint of who delivered it was a quick flash of green skin. It seemed that the demon’s super power was stealth and speed. That explained how Ryker’s drink was delivered, as well.
She closed her eyes, seeing the monster who had attacked her, his face forged in her memories for all time. The guys didn’t say a word. They sat patiently, giving her time to speak when she was ready. What the men didn’t understand was that their silence might as well have been a thunderstorm that cracked with lightning—it was that deafening.
Taken back to a time where she felt her most vulnerable, a time that she only wanted to forget but never would, she decided to tell them what happened. Or rather, she would share some of it, considering she was stuck with a rapt audience, with nowhere else to go.
With a grimace caused by building memories, she played with the straw in her drink and considered what to say next.
“I was eight years old when I was adopted. But before that, I lived in a state home for girls. It was there that I met my first vampire.”
She glanced over at Bane. Did she look in his direction, and not at Ryker, because Bane was also a vampire? She didn’t know.
“It was a night like every other, endin’ with dinner at six and then lights out by eight for the younger kids. That meant me.”
After another long pull from her straw, she continued.
“It was shortly after I crawled into bed, when he came into my room as a shadow that I was barely able to catch a glimpse of.”
Sonnet’s flesh crawled, her heart tapping out a faster beat. That moment had been her first real experience with death. She’d known that there was an evil being lurking about in her room that night, and she was convinced that she was going to die.
“I remember grabbin’ at my stomach, it hurt so bad. I know now that the pain was my power, warnin’ me of the vampire. But even if I knew what it meant, or who the man was, nothin’ could’ve stopped what happened next.”
Then, it was Anya who brought Sonnet another round. But instead of a stiff drink, the demon had placed a glass of water with lemon in front of her.
“Thank you,” Sonnet said, switching out the glasses.
She took a long sip from the rim. If she kept upping her liquid intake, at that rate, she’d be running to the ladies’ room in no time.
Anya’s tiny blue hand came down over the top of Sonnet’s fingers.
“You survived that monster, dear one, and that’s what matters.”
The unexpected kindness from the mindreading demon took Sonnet by surprise. And then their eyes met in a moment of solidarity that only women who’d been through a similar situation could share.
Anya flew backwards, fist jabbing against the black lacey corset snug around her hips.
“Then the damn vampire bit her. Yada-yada, and that’s all you guys need to know.”
Bane cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry. Had I known, I never would have—”
“Would’ve what, you blood-suckin’ leach?” Ryker interrupted.
Sonnet let out an exasperated breath, even though she was secretly glad that the subject was being changed.
“Come on, guys, stop it. Ryker, Bane didn’t do anything to me. And I don’t know why I have to explain anything to you, anyway, secret werewolf guy.”
With a wink, Anya said, “They’re all yours, girl. Have fun with that. Roll Tide!”
Sonnet looked at her with a tiny grin as Anya then hovered off to the other side of the bar.
Chapter Fifteen
A few minutes later, Remy appeared. He laughed, a menacing sound.
“I’ve found your vampire, Sonnet, the hunter. Do we have a deal or not?”
Bane piped in, “Is there any other way? Anything else you’ll bargain for? I’ll give you another century.”
The last part was said in a rushed whisper, like it hurt to even speak the words.
“That’s a tempting offer, Bane. But no.”
“Why do you want my blood?” she asked.
“As I mentioned before, I would like to know what kind of demon you are. Consider me curious.”
“And what happens if you don’t like what you find? Will you hurt me or my friends?”
Remy’s eyes went abyss-type black, his hair shifting in black silken sheets, like a restless tide, only to abruptly stop as he smiled wide, showing off the longest and sharpest set of fangs she’d ever seen.
She gulped down an oh shit.
“I promise that if your blood is displeasing to my palate, no harm will come to you or your friends because of it.”
Sonnet scanned the bar. There weren’t many customers patronizing the darkly hued establishment, with some of them occupying a few of the barstools sitting a ways down from her. She looked over her shoulder and saw a couple more people spread out, sitting at round tables on the main floor.
“You wanna do this here?”
The demon nodded and said, “Here’s as good a place as any.”
She gave the customers a final look and held out her arm.
“All right. You have a deal.”
Remy took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he turned it over, palm up, and ran a finger across her wrist. His touch gave off a butterfly sensation that she instantly hated.
Sonnet’s eyes went wide, and she snatched her hand back, cradling it to her chest.
“No. Your fangs are not touchin’ me.”
After a grunt of displeasure, Remy stood straight.
“Very well. How do you propose we do this, then?”
Sonnet looked at Bane and smiled bitterly.
“Would you bite me?”
A smiled jerked at the corner of his mouth.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“You trust me enough?”
So
nnet realized then that she did trust him.
“I do.”
Bane reached over and lifted her hand from where it rested against her chest. He held it gently, like her body was the frailest of things.
“Then, of course, I will do it. I’d be honored to, little fox.”
She couldn’t help stiffening as she readied herself for the worst.
“Do it,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
The strike was so quick that she barely felt it. Sonnet peeled open one eye and stared down at her wrist. Two tiny dots of red welled there. It was a minuscule amount of blood; not enough of it was shed to spill from the wound.
She was expecting to feel the same horrific pain she’d felt during the only other time she’d been bitten. Bane’s bite was, to her amazement, kind of nice.
Remy chuckled loudly, pulling Sonnet’s gaze up. Once the demon knew he had her full attention, he licked his lips.
Bane’s snarl was fierce, and he bared his fangs.
“You know, you’re one sick bastard, Remy.”
Remy gave Bane a hard, assessing look.
“We can’t all be saints.”
Then the demon struck Sonnet’s flesh... hard. His fangs pierced the two little holes that Bane had readied for him, making the wound wider and deeper.
Shock, mixed with nausea, assaulted Sonnet’s senses, and her heart jack-hammered out of control. Instead of feeling terror or panic, she felt enraged at the nerve of the asshole who would take from her what she did not offer—her flesh. She forced her hand to clench, giving the demon his fill. But her instincts warred with her to strike out, to take the son of a bitch’s heart. Somehow, her cooler head prevailed.
Ryker and Bane weren’t feeling as accommodating. Both of them flew like a rocket blast from out of their seats. However, before they could even lay a finger on the demon, Remy lifted his hand with a forward thrust, and the vampire and the werewolf were flung backwards, across the bar.
“That’s enough!” Sonnet boomed, her voice deeper than she’d ever heard it.
Remy’s gaze rose from her wrist, his black orbs swirling blood-red, with darkly lashed lids lowered in pleasure. After one last pull from her wound, he broke contact. He lifted his finger to one of his pointy fangs and slashed a cut at the tip of it. He then swiped the bloody digit across her wound.
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