“Game on, huntress,” Natasha whispered, a smile plastered on her face.
Chapter Three
A Meeting in Central Park
Five days passed since the evening Andreas found her in his office. He remembered gazing at the intruder in awe as she stood bent over in front of him. Her perfect, round ass called to him as she flipped through the pages of one of the books in his collection. His cock had remained in a perpetual state of arousal ever since. And along with it, came frustration. He couldn’t seem to get any work done at all. Hell, he even had trouble using his charms to seduce his prey and find sustenance.
“What’s wrong with me? I can’t stop thinking about her.” Andreas had never been so annoyed with himself. He grabbed a handful of hair between his fingers and scrunched it on top of his head, and tried to yank the image of the beautiful stranger out of his mind. “But the most pathetic part is, I don’t even know her God damn name!” For some unfathomable reason, the footage taken that night was of no help to him. Her identity remained a mystery. Nonetheless, his body recognized her, committing the shape and feel of her curves to memory. Andreas needed her naked and willing in his bed. Pronto.
Dressed in rich black leather, he noticed her leaning over the railing near the main entrance of The Crypt. The woman was an undisputable Greek goddess. Her red, pouty lips begged to be suckled.
Almond-shaped, honey-colored eyes and high cheekbones. Luscious, soft skin without even a hint of imperfection. When their eyes met across the room, Andreas knew he had to have her. Hell, he dreamt of watching those long, chestnut locks sprawled across the pillows on his bed while he engaged in all sorts of naughty little tricks. He yearned to kiss and lick her body from head to toe. He needed to taste her sweet essence and let the delectable flavor of her blood feed his starved libido.
Restlessness started to take its toll on him. Instead of bothering with the long, monotonous drive home to Connecticut, Andreas strolled along one of the many wooded paths in Central Park on his way back to his apartment on Madison Avenue. He needed to clear his head. He’d been overly distracted as of late. It was beginning to show. Even Natasha had noticed.
Andreas enjoyed this communion with nature often. He walked this same path through the wooded park almost every day on the way to his apartment on the Upper East Side. Nowadays, he stayed there more times than not. Even more so on nights like this when thoughts preoccupied his mind. He’d do anything not to have to face his father. The man had an uncanny ability to see through him, all the way to his soul.
Finally, he came to a familiar park bench and sat down. He perched himself in the very same spot a million times before. It was one of his favorite places. It provided him with the private serenity he needed to do what he does best. After all, he was a vampire. Preying on helpless victims, preferably of the female persuasion, was his birthright.
Andreas leaned back on the bench and took in the sights and sounds around him. Birds chirped in trees and leaves rustled as small animals scurried across the ground. A cool breeze drifted lightly over his skin, while the fragrant aromas of nature invaded his senses. The night seemed calm and peaceful. He felt compelled to close his eyes and relax, taking in the intoxicating scent of gardenias that must be planted nearby. He always loved the scent of gardenias. Then suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge. He wasn’t alone.
“Who’s…” he started to ask. Before the words could fully escape him, Andreas flipped backwards over the back of the bench.
His body landed with a force strong enough to break several bones. A sudden burst of pain screamed through him. But all he could do was stare up at the woman straddled on top of him, holding a dagger firmly to his throat.
Andreas flexed his fingers. The need to flip his opponent on her back and take control of her was high on his list of priorities. The first item on his agenda, fuck her brains out. Only after he satisfied his sexual desires, would he take her blood. Then, he saw the blade inch forward ever-so-slight, puncturing the skin. Warm liquid drizzled in a slow, intricate pattern down his neck and over his shoulder blade.
Blood.
“God damn woman, it’s a good thing I heal quickly.” Andreas forced the words out between clenched teeth. He shrugged his shoulders and shook off the pain.
The goddess glared back at him, eminent contempt reflected in her mesmerizing gaze. “Any last words, bloodsucker?” The words spewed out of her, as if a venomous elixir pinned him to the floor.
She shifted her weight above him and positioned herself more securely over his finely-honed torso, no doubt feeling the press of his thick erection against her buttocks. That one rookie mistake gave Andreas the edge he needed and soon, he had her body flailing through the air. She landed butt-first on the cold, damp floor along the edge of the trail. However, Andreas didn’t give her time to retaliate.
No sooner had she hit the ground before he attacked using all the natural predatory instincts he’d been born with. His cool hands snatched up both of her wrists, shoving them roughly above her head into a very vulnerable position. But truth be told, Andreas felt more like prey than predator ensnared in an assassin’s seductive web.
He balanced on one knee. His free hand reached down and clenched the leather bolero jacket she wore with a tight, restraining fist. He jerked her body up against him in one swift motion that left her gasping for air. With their faces just inches apart, he gazed into her eyes, peering through the swirling Bermuda Triangle of her pupils.
Hmm. No Reaction. Interesting. Andreas was used to women falling at his feet, succumbing to his potent power of persuasion. Yet the gorgeous creature didn’t even flinch when he turned on the charm in full force. She seemed completely immune to him. The only inkling of hope, the melodic beat of her heart as blood pumped through her veins.
****
Their close proximity had repercussions on Eva as well. The first clue was the thunderous beating of her heart echoing in her ears. That simple, unconscious response ignited a chain reaction of other bodily functions to ignite like rapid fire one after another. Sweat formed in the valley between her breasts and at the tip of her spine.
Her nipples peaked into flushed, red rosebuds. Her entire body thrummed, singing at a frequency only the two of them could discern.
They stood motionless and stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity without so much as breathing. Neither of them said a word, unwilling to acknowledge the significance of their little exchange. It was as if time stopped. The pad of Andreas’s index finger slowly glided over the inside of Eva’s wrist. She jerked away.
But the innocent brush of skin-to-skin contact had her senses reeling.
“Are you afraid of me?” Andreas leaned down and whispered seductively in her ear, making her shiver. He took a deep breath, so close he was sure to inhale her scent. The combination of his sultry voice and heated breath gently caressed the nerve endings along already-warm skin. It was too much to bear. The heat of it traveled all the way up and down the length of her body on its own accord, and settled itself at the junction between her legs. It set off an explosion of epic proportions and caused her clitoris to literally vibrate with need.
The blood normally residing in Eva’s brain stimulated an entirely different part of her body. “No, Andreas. I’m not afraid of you,” she answered, as she rolled her shoulders back and straightened her posture in a show of defiance.
“You know who am I? Isn’t it fair that I know the name of the lady who broke into my office, and so obviously has me at full attention?” His eyes darted to the very evident bulge protruding from the tight leather pants he wore.
Slowly, the fist holding onto the fabric of her jacket relinquished its grip on her. Then Andreas’s talented fingers moved and delved below the edge of the lacy black chemise she wore underneath. He moaned out loud, touching her no doubt turned Andreas on. The irises of his hypnotic green eyes changed like a chameleon to a bright red. The color of fresh blood. Eva shook he
r head, and jostled her brain as she suddenly remembered who and what stood before her.
“My name is Eva. Eva Sambucco.” She batted her lashes at him innocently, just before she swung the spiked heel of her three-inch boot up that slammed right into the indentation of his chin. His body was thrown back several feet across the path. Those Muay Thai classes sure do come in handy.
A gaping wound oozed blood down his chest and stained his pristine-white shirt, much more pronounced than the tiny knick she’d inflicted earlier. Andreas flew at her with preternatural speed. But she was too fast. She stepped out of his path before and threw a handful of powerful punches. He ducked, purposely dodging her blows in an attempt to avoid any hand-to-hand contact.
The fucking coward refuses to fight back. With renewed anger, she kicked at him and nearly succeeded at wrestling him down to the ground again. They battle waged on for several minutes. It only managed to frustrate Eva all the more. He was good. Almost too good.
Andreas’s defensive stance stopped her from inflicting any serious damage. Still, twinges of soreness erupted all over her body as bruises started to form. His chin continued to bleed, splattering like paint on the trail. Eva panted desperately for air. But she stood her ground and refused to accept defeat. She had a sneaking suspicion, neither would he.
Andreas moved first, inching toward her. A jaguar stalking its prey. “You don’t have any intention of killing me, Eva. I’d love to play with you like this all night long.” He purred in her ear and let her name roll off of his tongue seductively. “But the sun’s coming up soon. And believe me when I tell you, my dear, I am not a handsome man when I get a sunburn. We’ll have to continue our little game another time.” With that, Andreas Kristopolous blew her a kiss and high tailed it out of there in the opposite direction.
A bit shell-shocked, Eva allowed him to walk away without a fight. She needed some time to re-think her strategy when it came to this particular vampire. Andreas was right about one thing though.
Victory wasn’t the ultimate goal. It was all about the game, and Eva enjoyed toying with him as much as he did.
I’ll eventually have to kill the bastard. But it’s going to be a whole hell of a lot of fun torturing him first. Eva bit down on her bottom lip and groaned. And sometimes, pleasure can be almost as excruciating as pain.
Chapter Four
Confessions
Later the next evening, Andreas rolled out of bed. Every bone in his body ached, and the slight scar under his chin from the spike of Eva’s boot needed more time to heal. Either the huntress had horrible aim or she was toying with me. Biding her time. Waiting for the perfect moment to stake him in the heart. After all, that was the only way to kill a vampire. Regardless of Eva’s motive, sparring with her had been well worth the injuries.
As he slipped a pair of well-worn jeans over his bare ass, Andreas couldn’t help but groan at the thought of her. The smell of gardenias still lingered on his skin from where he’d touched her. Eva.
Damn, he really needed to get laid. His cock still stood at attention, so he carefully zipped and buttoned his fly. The tight fit of his jeans rubbing against his erection was becoming excruciating painful.
He moaned as his adjusted himself and proceeded to get dressed. “Come on now little buddy. It’s been six days. Time to get over your little high school crush and get some ass tonight.” At least he had a name to go with the face. Andreas hoped to put Eva Sambucco out of his mind. At least for one night. All he needed was to screw the first hot blonde who appealed to him. Horny as all hell, any bimbo with a heartbeat would do.
To hell with the fact that Eva nearly made him cum in his pants with a single thought. He’d do whatever it took to take the edge off and get back to running his multi-million dollar empire.
As he made his way out of his penthouse on the 32nd floor, Andreas’s cell phone rang. Natasha. He didn’t want to answer, but he had no other choice. She clearly knew something was up and ignoring her would only make the situation worse.
Andreas sighed in irritation before he picked up the phone.
“Good evening, Natasha.” He pushed the button and paced as he waited for the elevator door to open. “I’m on my way to the office now. What’s up?”
“There’s been another security breach.” Natasha’s slow, monotone voice underscored the importance of what she said.
Andreas’s ears perked up. “This time they broke into the mansion.
You need to get in here right away.”
Within minutes, Andreas arrived at The Crypt. He sank in the Italian leather chair behind his desk and gawked at the pictures laid out before him. “These images just came back from the company I hired to digitally re-master the surveillance footage from the club the other night.” Natasha motioned toward the picture of the woman in black. The same woman who haunted his dreams for the past week.
“How do you know this is the same woman who broke into the house in Connecticut?”
“She accidentally tripped the silent alarm your father had installed in his office. Then she fought with a security guard but was able to escape,” Natasha responded. “We identified her from these photos earlier today.”
“Interesting.” Andreas tried his best to mask his excitement.
Showing even an inkling of emotion would only piss Natasha off and clue her in on the raging boner he’d endured ever since Eva crossed his path. “What do we know about her?”
“Quite a bit actually,” Natasha retorted smugly. Damn it. Her condescending tone screamed at him like a police siren, and there was no way in hell to deny his interest in the girl.
Natasha spoke in rapid-fire succession as she filled him in on the details about their intruder. Her name was Eva Sambucco. He knew that much already. But he didn’t know all the other tidbits of information. Twenty-two years old. Born in Albany, New York to immigrants of Italian ancestry. Her parents ran an import/export business for several years, selling olive oil and other Italian specialty foods across the United States and Europe.
“She seems innocuous enough. Any idea why she’s stalking me?” Andreas scratched his head, completely clueless. Then Natasha dropped the bomb. She described how a young Eva, on the cusp of pre-pubescence, witnessed her own parents’ brutal murder at the hands of vampires. The tragedy took place on a business trip to London more than ten years earlier.
That certainly explained all the anger and rage she hurled at him the last few times they met. “Hmm. It seems she’s got vengeance on her mind. But why me?”
“Andreas, don’t be so naïve. You’re the leader of the New York City vampire coven. This has everything to do with you.” Natasha cocked her hip to the side and shook her head in disbelief.
She smiled and let out a slightly wicked laugh. “And it gets worse.
Much worse.” The sadistic woman got off on feeding him the ugly truth.
“Come on, you’ve got to be kidding me. How could it possibly get worse? There’s a beautiful vigilante on a mission to kill me. Isn’t that enough?” Andreas shrugged his shoulders, and feigned skepticism.
“Beautiful, huh? Your beautiful Miss Sambucco works for BPA. She’s a huntress, Andreas.” Natasha crossed her arms and scowled at him.
Fuck! No wonder she’d kicked his ass all over town.
Andreas’s jaw dropped to the floor in shock. An intelligent woman, Natasha would quickly put two and two together and figure out why.
“I knew it! Andreas, when are you going to learn to keep it in your pants? Un-fucking-believable!” Natasha threw her hands up in the air in frustration and stomped out of the room.
****
Eva pulled open the heavy wooden door and moved in silence toward the fountain of holy water set inside the entrance to the church. She dipped her index finger into the frigid water and made the sign of the cross on her forehead. Eva always admired the exquisite architectural masterpiece that was St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Originally built in 1879, this jewel of the Catholic Church was designed
in the classic neo-gothic style. Its pointed monoliths of black and white marble and elaborate golden accents set it apart from the surrounding community. A refuge for prayer and personal reflection, St. Patrick’s was her private haven. Her home away from home. Eva made a b-line toward the confessional box, opened the door and sat down. She exuded the confident tranquility of a well-acquainted parishioner. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been six years since my last confession.” Eva whispered the traditional phase and tried not to disturb the other people worshiping in the pews directly outside the confessional.
The pastor, Father Luigi Mancini, watched her. He almost certainly took note of her fatigued posture and the dark circles underneath her eyes. “Good evening, Miss Sambucco. I am glad you have finally decided to relieve yourself of that heavy burden.” Sin had a way of wrapping its tentacles around a person’s soul, wearing on the body and mind. Eva must have looked like death warmed over. She took a deep breath and began to relate the sad story of her existence to the priest.
“Father, I am a huntress. I seek out and kill the undead lurking among us. There is no other choice than to rid our world of their evil.” Eva peered down at her feet, afraid to look the priest in the eye. It pained her greatly to admit her transgressions. But the toll on her conscience, of keeping her secrets locked deep inside, wrecked havoc on her ability to distinguish the difference between right and wrong.
Irresistible Nemesis Page 3