“Why don’t we go home,” he said. “While the euphoria is still zinging through our veins.”
“It is still there, isn’t it?” she said, smiling.
They hurried home. Britt slammed the door shut and locked it, then slowly, sensuously, turned and yanked off his T-shirt, showing off his muscled abs and that strong body that always made her heart leap and splendidly numb her mind.
Besides the visual eye candy, her vampiric abilities made sure she was erotically aware of his physiology. His pheromones were like the sweetest honey, and his blood pulsed forcefully through his veins, while his heart created a tempo only for her. They’d meet that tempo before the night was over, each of them in tune with the other.
He removed his leather belt and unsnapped his jeans, then strode toward her. “You still have everything on, my darling,” he said.
“It’s been two seconds since we stepped inside. Sometimes, I like to take my time when undressing for you. It’s fun to see your expression.”
His pulse rate doubled, and she took two teasing steps backward-—just out of his grasp. His heated gaze remained riveted on her, slowly and sensuously exploring every inch of her.
She had worn a V-neck white satin blouse tonight, tucked into a robin’s egg-blue skirt that flirted just above her knees. And her blue high heels were four inches. Between her skirt and the shoes, there was nothing but legs.
She’d dressed to tempt him. Who knew they’d end up even more excited about lovemaking, thanks to the wonderful music they’d heard?
He pulled off his socks, and she lifted one of her finely shaped eyebrows at him.
He grinned. “Easier to chase you down the hall in my bare feet,” he said in a gravelly voice.
Her breath stalled. The strains of the weird music at the stadium still trilled inside her head, leaving her long-dead sensations more able to come to the fore.
She didn’t need the music though, because Britt could always elevate her heart rate and make her feel heat in the most intimate of places. But the music had done something to her physiology that might elevate their lovemaking to the next level.
She backed down the hall into Britt’s room. Following her, he’d managed to strip down to his briefs.
She had yet to remove her garments.
“You look gorgeous in that outfit, doll, but you’ll look even better without it,” he said in a low tone.
Before she had a chance to remove anything, he grabbed her and kissed her until she felt almost breathless—something a vampire didn’t often experience. The heat and actions of his tongue had nearly been her undoing.
She planted a hand on his chest. “Do you feel a heightened eroticism as a result of that music?”
He appeared surprised by her question. “You know, I think I do. You too?”
She nodded, and his smile grew more wicked and wanton.
“Bonus.” He winked at her. “You’d better start undressing, because if I help you, I can’t guarantee your lovely clothes will still be in one piece when I’m done.”
“You beast,” she said, a little breathless at the thought.
That said, she didn’t want him to ruin her clothes. So much for being a kick-ass vampire. She’d changed since coming to Paris. Clothing had become important. Thank you, Morana, for introducing her to haute couture.
Britt’s tongue dipped into the V of her blouse.
“Hold on, I’ll take it off,” she said. He’d get a surprise when he saw her lingerie. She’d worn the most wispy and expensive underthings she had, in case they had time to make love tonight.
He gasped when she slowly lifted her blouse over her head, then unzipped the back of her skirt and leaned over to push it down her hips.
“I’d have paid a thousand dollars for this show,” he growled.
“Hey, I’m worth much more than that,” she said, waiting for him to jump her. Because he definitely had the look of a predator about to pounce.
When he did, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto the bed with him, then rolled her on top of him.
His hot mouth caught hers again, splendidly numbing her mind, and leaving room for nothing but him.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he said.
“Aren’t I the one who should be saying that?” Jess joked, then remembered Britt had also died—only he’d come back an angel.
“Who knew angels were so hot-blooded?” she said into his seeking mouth.
“Why do you think they left heaven to come to earth?” he said in a breathy voice. “We’ve all read stories about angels copulating with the children of man.”
Jess laughed out loud. “I don’t think that’s exactly the way it was worded, my darling angel.”
He unclasped her bra, and she helped him remove it.
They made love for hours—much longer than usual. Both of them were in a sensual frenzy, and they made every second count. They always had good sex, but it was never quite as wild as it was tonight.
His body entangled with hers, connecting them in a way that made her vampirism inconsequential.
Every touch, every kiss, added to the sense of over-the-top sensuality, making their lovemaking feverish and fantastic. Finally, they both dropped to the bed, sated and exhausted.
He leaned over her, staring deep into her eyes. “You’re right,” he said.
She leaned up on one elbow. “Right about what?”
“You are worth more than a thousand dollars.” He grinned wickedly, while she pushed back a lock of his hair that had fallen into his deep-blue eyes.
She inhaled and wished for more time, but it would soon be dawn. “I think I know why people were elbow to elbow at that concert tonight,” she said curving against his side.
“Me too. When’s the next one?”
“We need to find out how to use the Dark Net.”
They held each other for a time, until the cold claws of dawn beckoned. Maybe it was her typical cynicism, but she couldn’t help but think that something this good came at a price.
She didn’t want to spoil his afterglow, so she leaned over him. “It’s nearly time, Britt. I’m sorry to leave you, but I’ll see you tonight.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her as if they hadn’t already made love half the night. He walked her to her room, kissing her again and tucking her in.
That music had done something to them. She just wasn’t sure what.
Now that the headiness of it was over, she was more concerned than happy.
Chapter Seven
MORANA MADE A tray-load of Longina Iced Teas, while eyeing the patrons who’d ordered them. Her drinks were becoming more popular all the time.
Gervais had just returned from the supply room with several fresh bottles of liquor. He watched her the whole time he put them in place, then installed spigots into each one.
“Looks like you’ve got a hit drink, there,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me the recipe so I can help out with the drink orders?”
She made a throaty sound of disgust. “Dream on. This is my recipe, and I don’t share it with anyone.”
“What about the nights you have off? Who serves the drinks then?”
One of the waitresses stepped up and ordered three more of Morana’s specialty. With Gervais practically salivating, Morana poured the liquor and then added her special additives that she never let out of her sight. In fact, she kept them in her pocket while on shift. “On my nights off, nobody gets Longina Iced Tea. It’s that simple.”
Gervais watched her so closely, she almost wondered if he was some sort of spy.
“I suggest you mind your own business and stay out of mine,” she said, turning on him with black eyes and lengthened teeth. “I’m starting to regret hiring you.”
Gervais narrowed his
gaze on her. “Bitch.”
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it,” she said, waiting for him to shove off and work at his own station. He had two waiters and one waitress lined up for drinks.
“Why are you working here, anyway?” she asked when his queue of servers had left with their trays full.
“Because I need a job,” he said.
She eyed him up and down, focusing on his gold cufflinks and diamond tiepin. “Really?”
“If you’re eyeing my bling, they’re family heirlooms,” he said, lowering his voice to a dangerous tone. “Who do you think you are, anyway?”
“I’m your boss,” she said. “That’s who. And, if I think you pose a danger to anyone within this club, then you’re toast. What I say—goes.”
“Just because you think my baubles are expensive, you think I’m not trustworthy?” He eyed her designer outfit. “I think there’s a bit of a double standard here. Look at you, wearing a new outfit nearly every day. You work here, and it’s obvious you don’t need the money.”
He had her there. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but I have a rich adoptive father. Where does your money come from, Gervais?”
“As I said, I don’t have much wealth of my own. These are just trinkets that have been handed down from my family. I’ve had them for centuries. They’re probably valuable, but I’d never part with them.”
Morana handed another tray of Iced Teas to the waiter and watched him deliver them to a group of eleven—which contained three blonds, just the right type for the serial killer. Whatever made these stupid women come out to a killing ground, thinking it could never happen to them?
She eyed the crowd and spotted two undercover cops, one male and one female. Several vampires were in the club tonight as well. She exhaled and caught Gervais watching her.
“Do your job and keep your eyes off me!” She turned and narrowed an angry look at him.
He didn’t flinch. She didn’t intimidate him the way she could Diesel, and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He didn’t back down when she confronted him, either. She raised one eyebrow and glared at him. He might have promise, if lately, he wasn’t watching her so closely all the time. She liked him much better when he didn’t pay any attention to her. But now it seemed he had an agenda, and she needed to find out what it was.
Need for her drug clawed at her. She’d been without it for a few days now. Sinclair had cut back on her allotment, and it had left her edgy and more angry—and hungry. Sinclair had ordered another herd of sheep, but he warned her not to slake them all in one go. The farmers were getting suspicious, and he’d have a hard time getting more until next year.
Her suspicion that she was being watched seemed pervasive lately, and it wasn’t just Gervais. She stared out at the crowd. Someone out there had been monitoring her movements, only she hadn’t caught anyone. Who the hell would have the nerve to do such a thing? Surely not another vampire?
Gervais made several drinks in half the time Diesel would have been able. He served them up in a showy, watch-me kind of way that irked Morana. He always wanted attention. He’d better be careful or he’d attract the kind of attention he didn’t want.
Escaping to the storeroom to get more supplies for her Iced Teas should have given her a chance to calm her need for the drug, but she instantly knew she’d been followed. What kind of idiot would corner a vampire in her own domain?
She pretended to not know she’d been followed as she made her way deeper into the storage room, in order to catch the idiot unaware.
When she bent over to pick up a box, the person slipped behind a shelf piled high with soda water. She’d pretend to walk past it as if she didn’t know he was there, then she’d have him trapped behind the shelving.
She made her move, dropped the box, and turned on the spy. “Come out of there right now or I’ll tear you limb from limb.”
His heartbeat pounded double time. That’s what had tipped her off in the first place. The stupid human should know better than to follow a vampire, unless he didn’t know what she was.
If he didn’t know, he was about to get one helluva shock. At that, she let her fangs grow, and her eyes turned black. She’d scare the crap out of him before she made him sorry for trying to sneak up on her.
“I can hear your heartbeat, human. You can’t hide from me,” she said in her vampire-enhanced voice that it bounced off the walls inside the cave.
He actually had the nerve to laugh, albeit nervously. Laugh! The human must have a death wish.
“Come out now or you’ll be sorry.” He’d be sorry anyway, because she needed to let off a little steam.
The man stepped out, and she stared him down. If his clothes were indicative of his occupation, he was a religious man. The ring on his baby finger told her his status. A Cardinal!
Was this the man of the cloth who’d concerned her father so?
“I’m sorry to sneak up on you,” he said. “It’s just that I wanted to see you, to make sure you were real. It’s really you, isn’t it, Morana?”
“What if it is?” Her enhanced voice vibrated against the walls.
His smile widened. “You’ve been here in France all along, right under my nose.” He clapped his hands in glee. “I thought you were lost when you disappeared from the cradle, and I’d assumed you’d been killed. How could you have survived vampirism as a baby? How were you able to grow?”
His questions stopped her cold. This Cardinal knew an awful lot about her. She held her tongue and continued to glare at him.
“You look just like your sister.” He dared take a step closer.
She inhaled and gave away her surprise at his comment. Not like her.
He bent his head one way and then the other. He seemed to be unafraid that her fangs were at the ready, and she was as ticked as she could get.
“I can’t tell you how exciting it is to know you’re both alive. Oh, my, I’m sorry. Am I telling you something you don’t know? You have a twin sister, and she’s here in Paris.”
Morana merely nodded while narrowing her gaze on him.
He clapped his hands together again. “Wait, you’ve met her, haven’t you? Amazing. The odds of the two of you meeting again must be astronomical. It has to be fate. Twin vampires! That’s so rare and so elemental,” he said.
“Fate?” Morana said cynically. “Aren’t you a priest?” She didn’t intend to let him know she was aware of his stature in the Church. “You believe in fate?”
“I’m Cardinal Marcus Vasilli,” he said to her. “I met your sister and your brother, Father Vandermire, in New York. It’s such a surprise to know you’ve made it to adulthood. It couldn’t have been easy for you, but I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Alive?” She sniffed. “I’m dead, and I’m dangerous. I recommend that you get out of here right now if you want to live.” She’d intended to at least maim him, but since he obviously knew a lot more about her than she would have expected, he might come in handy.
“How old are you, Morana?” he asked, excitement still gleaming in his eyes.
The man must be delusional. “Do you have a death wish?” she asked. “I mean, seriously, you need to leave.” She moved in on him, pressed her face closer to his and sent a spike of pain and fear into him. He should have at least backed off, since most humans didn’t take that type of physical intrusion well. But to her surprise, he stood his ground.
“You need to leave! NOW!”
Obviously, not nearly as afraid as he should be, he simply lowered his head in a kind of salute and walked past her, back into the club—dressed like a priest in black pants, black shirt, and a white priest’s collar, with that ring on his baby finger. What in the name of all that was holy—? Or not holy? He had a peculiar vibe about him that she couldn’t identify.
&nb
sp; By the time she’d gathered her supplies, there was a long line of servers waiting for her drinks. She quickly scanned the room for Vasilli while she made her Iced Teas, but the Cardinal had left the building.
What would her father say when she told him Cardinal Vasilli had come to see her? She grimaced and narrowed her eyes. She really was a nasty bitch. Because she couldn’t wait to see the look of fear cross Sinclair’s face again.
JESS TEXTED SAMPSON before they went out the next night. She asked him to search the Dark Net to find any references to the band playing in Paris last night.
Hell, she still felt some of the buzz the music had instilled in her. That certainly explained the many vampires in the crowd. Obviously, they were there for the euphoria and the sense of wonder the music instilled in them, too.
She finished her text. “I wonder how often Serenity holds concerts?”
“And if they’re only mentioned online, how do they manage to get stadium time at the last minute?” Britt said. “The promoters who book the stadium must have an idea when the concerts will be held.”
“You still feel it too, don’t you, Britt?”
He nodded, but this time her concern was mirrored in his face, as well. “It was fun last night, but the fact that they were able to manipulate our physiology is a bit of an issue.”
Her cell phone dinged with a message from Sampson. On it.
What would she do without him? She quickly texted back, Thnx.
No sooner had she finished with her text than Britt’s cell rang. He looked at the number before he answered. “Veronique, it’s been a while,” he said.
She heard the consternation in his voice. Hopefully Veronique had, too. Lately their police captain friend only seemed to be interested in Britt if they had a dead body.
Britt listened while Veronique talked. Jess wandered into the kitchen to distance herself from the call. Unfortunately, she knew it meant bad news. He’d be in the tunnels again tonight.
She went to her room and dressed in her leathers. Not that she was going out looking for a fight, but she’d be prepared if one came to her.
Graves of Retribution Page 8