by Zoe Forward
“The coat you had on was dreadful even in the eighties.” She shook her head and shuddered. “Fashion will have to wait, as will my promised discussion of chauvinism. I’m not poking into your business to be nosy. Okay, that’s a lie. Nosy is my middle name. I don’t have time tonight to gently tease the reason for your Paris outing from you. If there’s someone in trouble, I may be able to help, but if this person was captured by the Squad, then the countdown clock’s ticking. Why were you in Paris?”
He appreciated honesty. If she was affiliated with Nightshade or ran it, then she might have resources. “There’s someone missing…captured.”
“Someone important enough for the Michael to leave his bunker to search on his own must be impressive. Who? Your mate or a child?”
“A baby. They killed her mother.” Why the hell was he giving her all this information? She had to have some sort of persuasive power.
“How old is she?”
“Eleven months.”
Kiera put a hand over her chest and stepped back. She gripped the door handle to the pool room behind her and bent over. In a hushed tone, she said, “A baby? Crap, I can’t breathe. They took a baby. Oh, God.”
“It’s war. God isn’t involved in this.” He would not offer her comfort, even though resisting required he fist his hands.
Still bent over, she held up a hand as if to pause him from saying anything further. “You guys wouldn’t take a vampire baby, not to keep. The babies in both of our species are tough to orphan-raise. I once assisted bottle-feeding a werewolf who wasn’t even pureblood. It’s a nightmare between constant hunger and colic for the entire first year.”
“You talking about the kid downstairs?”
Her entire demeanor softened. “Adric turned out to be a great kid. His mom was murdered when he was tiny. Although you werewolves have annoying issues when teenagers. The transition is tough enough but then add puberty to the mix and… Get a hard-on and poof, you’re growing wolf hair. Think about running, and furry feet pop out.”
“Control takes a while.” No laughing. But teenage wolves were hysterical.
She sobered. “The only reason vampires loyal to the Foundry would keep a werewolf child alive through that level of high-maintenance wouldn’t be good. Research or experiments.” Her lips drew back in a snarl, exposing fangs, a reminder of the ferocious creature hidden beneath the beautiful veneer. “Why do you keep giving me reasons to hate those assholes?”
“They should’ve killed the child. At least that would’ve been honest.” The anger that had driven him to go to Paris alone yesterday washed over him, this time twenty times more potent. He snapped, “If you’d have let them take me last night, then I might’ve been able to get to her.” Memories of torture inflicted on him when enslaved fluttered through his mind, and a haze of rage started to descend. So powerful. So new to feel this much.
A growl erupted from his throat. Don’t attack. She’s not the enemy.
Kiera wrapped her small hand around his.
And suddenly, the haze disappeared. He froze and stared at their connected hands.
How had she done that?
No longer did he suffer even a hint of the anger or need to fight. Was it some sort of magic she wove or just something about her? Everything centered on where they touched. Damn if he wasn’t getting hard.
He didn’t do hand holding with anyone. But it wasn’t all that bad. It was kind of okay, not that he’d admit it to anyone, especially her.
She said, “This isn’t the first time they’ve taken a child, but it’s the first baby I’ve heard of. They wouldn’t have taken you to the same place as her. Your quest to find where she’s incarcerated would’ve been in vain. I’m really sorry about them kidnapping her. There’s no excuse I can possibly make for vampires, not for this.”
“They’re your people.” He jerked his hand from her grip and tried to will his dick, which was acting like the juvie wolf he almost laughed about minutes ago, into compliance, which failed.
“Same species. Not my people. Many of us don’t believe in the war. I sure as hell don’t believe in kidnapping babies.”
“That’s talk that’ll get you executed by your own kind.”
“I’m still here. Big mouth and all. But, yes, it’s not something I’d repeat in front of the Foundry. It’s a secret I’m trusting you to keep.”
“You have no reason to trust me.”
“I feel like I can. There’s something honorable about you.” She squinted up at him and looked deep into his eyes. “I swear I’ll do everything I can to retrieve this child. No one has any right to take a baby and get away with it.” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to take care of your problem, and you’re not going to become mine. So, downstairs you go.”
He didn’t respond. She wasn’t finished laying down the law, not that he’d obey her rules.
“I made arrangements for you to leave tomorrow. Blay is sending someone to get you. I don’t have details on where you’ll get picked up, but probably not here. You aren’t going to make a run for the front door now and incite a panic. You’ll wait downstairs where it’s safe until I can get you out of here.”
“Why should I trust you?” he asked.
“I kept all my promises so far. I got you out of Paris unharmed.”
What was so fascinating about his neck to her? Self-consciously, he put a hand against his throat. Shouldn’t he consider the fact she seemed to be contemplating chewing out his throat a threat? No, that kind of biting was classic werewolf methods, not leech. She might be…no. She thought about drinking from him? It’d kill her. But drinking blood went with sex. Hard sex. He’d seen it. The thought of her mouth on his neck. Nope. But, fuck, he was getting harder.
“You put me in a box,” he accused.
“You were unconscious. You wouldn’t have noticed if you’d traveled in the front seat.”
“If I choose to wait downstairs, what assurance do I have you’re not making some sort of complicated plan to turn me over to the DiFalcos?”
“If I wanted Viktor to have you, I’d have left you in Paris. If it makes you feel better, I’ll have Adric show you the monitoring cameras where you can see everything going on up here. Will that work?”
“I want a knife and not some cheap pocketknife,” he said.
“A knife?” She blinked at him a few times. “I have to throw this out there because I need it clear I know what’s going on. Whatever allurement aura you have is quite powerful. Gracious me, it works.” She fanned her face. “God almighty, it’s hot. You’re hot. So freaking hot. Cripes, I said that out loud. Is that a part of the allure thing? It makes people say stupidity out loud? This is why I want you to know I know what you’ve got going on. I’m sure women fall over themselves around you all the time. I’m sorry to admit it’s happening to me.” She touched his hand again but yanked hers away moments after initial contact. “I can’t help it, but this attractiveness thing you have makes me want to touch you. Your king, Lexan, has this ability to mesmerize females. I assume it’s some sort of older wolf superpower.”
I don’t have this ability. He almost said it out loud, but he wanted to hear more.
“I mean, you’re gorgeous.” She waved an all-encompassing sweep of her hand.
She thought he was hot? And gorgeous? This was a first. No one ever stood in front of him fanning her face and telling him she couldn’t keep her hands off him. All he could manage to croak out was, “What do you mean?”
“Fine, play coy. You’re ancient, which means handsome is in your bloodline. That, plus the aura and your smell…gracious, I’m susceptible.” She put a hand over her chest again. “Please, crank it down a few notches if you can. I might actually faint, and good Lord, I haven’t fainted even once in my entire life. I’ve got to keep some distance from you.”
She wasn’t faking it. Something ab
out him got to her. Unique. He had no special aura to enthrall like Lexan, the king. The last few times he’d been with a female, be it human or wolf, had been so long ago that he barely remembered what it felt like to touch and be touched. Part of it was the ennui—he didn’t care. The other issue was females feared the rumors about him.
Suddenly, he wanted to remember what it was like to be touched. It lit him up inside to think about it. Yet he didn’t want that, shouldn’t, not with her. Maybe with someone else, someone not vampire and preferably wolf, but he didn’t want the complication in his life of getting attached to a female, not with his duty as war leader. He didn’t want to protect her from his inconsistent periods of insanity. He’d seen wolves around him find a mate and, watching them in their relationships, realized how grounded they were, how much stronger emotionally each was because of the partners at their sides.
Maybe it was time he got serious about a relationship. About finding a mate. Nice fantasy. Werewolves steered clear of him, mostly out of terror at his reputation for insanity. Those who didn’t pretended interest. They wanted to hook an ancient into mating in order to improve their bloodline or financial situation.
He said, “I’m a few years older than Lexan. But I—”
“That’s it!” She nodded her head as if relieved. “Something about your vintage has got the juju enthrallment vibes. Anyway, I know, and I’m not going to be swayed by it.”
But you already are. Let’s give this enthrallment a whirl. “Call off the one pointing a gun at me. Let’s speak in private for a few minutes.”
“We don’t have anything we can’t talk about in public in my house.”
He crossed his arms. “The only way I’ll agree to be imprisoned downstairs with a party of vampires aboveground is if we speak in private right now.”
“I don’t have someone with a gun…”
His eyes narrowed into his hardass glower. Usually, this scared the piss out of the recipient.
Except her.
“Fine. Let’s go to the kitchen.” She waved up the hallway to call off Adric, who had stepped into sight and now had him targeted with a dart gun. She crossed her arms. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know.”
He felt his lips twitch upward. “Five minutes.”
“Three. You won’t be weaseling your way out of my plans.”
“Plans are made to be broken.”
Chapter Four
Stupid to be overwhelmed by his aura and agree to be alone with him. Yet Kiera led Michael away from the pool, hyperaware of his gaze on her the entire way to the private kitchen in the south wing near Finn’s apartment. The primary cooking area was full of caterers and chaos.
Michael overwhelmed the modest-sized room as he stepped in behind her. She swallowed and fought the urge to back up. She wasn’t easily intimidated, but damn, he was big. Instead, she lifted her chin to meet his scrutiny directly.
Bad move. His eyes roamed over her face in a way that was intensely consuming, leaving her a little breathless by the time they connected with hers again. There were slivers of different hues of pale blue in his irises, like a glass kaleidoscope she’d had as a child.
That hair. She’d give her left arm to be able to touch the wavy strands that fell long and dark to well below his shoulders.
“Why waste time here with social gatherings when we need to be out there, finding her?” He glanced around in a calculated manner that most who were used to defending themselves did upon entry into any new space.
“You want to run out there with guns blazing and hit every vamp detention facility in France?” She fisted her hands to avoid touching him again.
He smiled, a flash of even teeth with a ruthless excitement in his eyes. It was breathtaking. Her entire body flushed hot. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a visceral reaction to someone, especially one who’d probably prefer to cut off his hand than touch her. Why him? Sure, he was charismatic and too handsome, but he hated vamps. He was notorious for decades of violent hate. Leading the Nightshade League always carried a high risk of getting attacked, but being attracted to Michael, the most brutal werewolf in existence, guaranteed a deadly end. He might kill her, vamps might kill her if they found out she’d harbored him, or she might kill herself by accidentally taking a deep bite of him because he smelled so freaking amazing.
Blood pulsated in his jugular, taunting her. Tempting.
But not worth the toxic death she’d witnessed when vampires ingested werewolf blood. Interspecies taboo aside, this was why she’d never had a werewolf as a lover and never in her wildest fantasies considered it. Sex and biting went hand in hand.
Drawing a deep breath, she pulled her focus off Michael’s jugular vein to fixate on his nose, a much safer zone away from his mouth and neck.
“Best to not make any decisions on an empty stomach. I’ll bet you’re hungry?” Her brain tried to shut down her body’s response to him, even though he continued to stare at her as if she riveted him. Heat spread from her chest over her face. She opened the refrigerator and hid her face in its cold air. Sparse food choices. “How about we start with a drink?”
“We don’t drink the same beverage,” he grumbled.
“You might be surprised.” She opened the cabinet and poured each of them a sifter glass one-quarter full of brown liquid. “Scotch. Expensive stuff. It’s been aged in my cellar for about twenty years after I got it.”
She slid a glass across the marble countertop to him and sipped hers to prove it wasn’t poison.
“I didn’t think your kind drank alcohol.” He sipped. “This is good.”
“Sometimes, a girl needs a drink.” She downed the rest of hers like it was a shot. “Would you prefer a sandwich, or I can put on some pasta?”
“I don’t need food.” He placed his strong forearms on the counter and watched her. This man worked hard to stay in peak physical shape. It didn’t come with the package just because he was a wolf. She’d rescued thirty-three werewolves in the past six weeks. Many were pretty. None were like him.
“Sandwich it is.” Thank goodness, her voice came out steady.
“Are you eating?”
She shook her head. Hunger rarely plagued her. In the past month, she might’ve eaten real food twice and had a few glasses of blood. That wasn’t normal, but she hadn’t been normal in a long time. Most vampires needed some blood almost daily. Besides, safe human blood donors weren’t easy to come by on the streets. Drinking from animals was gross. And she had no vampire friends she wished to latch onto. Most blood for vamps now came from a company that could guarantee its purity.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.
“How’s the price on untainted blood these days?” There was accusation in his words.
“That’s what you want to talk about? Why should it matter to you?” She removed sandwich items from the refrigerator.
“Just curious. Not why I wanted to talk.”
She resumed cutting a slice of tomato. “I wasn’t the idiot who played God and released the Risoluzione virus. That moron is Viktor DiFalco.” Although intended to eradicate werewolves, the virus inadvertently infected humans to the point most worldwide had blood that vampires could no longer stomach. The virus did infect and kill a small percentage of wolves, though, by causing a slow multi-organ failure over the course of weeks. With a diminished supply of untainted humans to drink from, more vampires chose to go into stasis, where they could wait decades or longer until the blood supply improved. Those with no financial constraints like her bought untainted blood from the one vampire blood supply company in the world. A monopoly? Yes.
“You seem old enough to sit at the Foundry table. Why weren’t you a part of the decision?”
“Me, invited to the Foundry of Ancients?” She snorted and shook her head. “That’s funny. They won’t overlook the fact my half
-blood niece married a werewolf who happens to be your king. Or that my sister mated a werewolf while married to the North American vampire leader before she was murdered.”
“The slayed vampire and the wolf? Are you talking about Blay, the wolf, and Ariella? She was your sister?”
She nodded. “You know Blay?”
He shrugged. “Most vampire families are screwed up. Your people tend to overlook dysfunctional in order to prize their purebloods.”
“Sure, ancient blood is valued regardless of family history, but I’m not exactly esteemed. I’ve done some unforgivable things like I killed my mate, whose blood was older than mine. Did I mention he had a prime seat on the Foundry?” She waited for some sort of shocked gasp, but it didn’t come. It was all public knowledge. Few knew the real story. “Oh, come on. Everyone knows I’m a brutal mate killer. It’s how I got richer than Croesus.” I’d do it again if I had the chance. “I’ve not yet entirely served my penance of ostracism. Vamps may not let me on the Foundry, but they’ll always be impressed by anyone willing to kill in order to survive.”
“Did the mate you killed do that to you? The scar?” He pointed at her midsection.
Should’ve worn the one-piece. But the bikini is beautiful. She rocked back on her feet, mustard knife poised above the small glass jar. A smile teased her lips. That’s why we’re speaking in private. “Mr. Durand, I don’t believe we know each other well enough to discuss scars like the ones on your back or my midsection.”
“Touché, Ms. Rossard. Call me Michael.” His lips curved upward, and the sexiest low rumble of a laugh tumbled out. All coherent thought belly-flopped out of the window. “Someday, you’ll tell me.”
“I highly doubt it. We won’t see each other again after tomorrow.” She resumed spreading mustard.
“I’m surprised they didn’t execute you for killing a Foundry member.”
She put a few slices of cheese on the bread. “Vampires love ruthlessness. However, if they find out I’m a traitor to the war, that’s an offense that might warrant execution.”