I?ll Be Slaying You

by Cynthia Eden

  Just the way he liked a woman.

  Her breath hissed out when he touched her clit. A hard press with his 37

  thumb then a slow caress with his fingers. He’d learned long ago how to pleasure a woman. How to make her moan and beg. How to make her scream.

  He wanted Dee to scream for him.

  His index finger found her opening. Pushed inside. Tight. Sweat beaded on his brow. So tight.

  The back of his zipper was going to be permanently indented on his dick at this rate.

  Another finger thrust inside and stretched her. Dee’s neck arched.

  Don’t tempt.

  His fingers wrapped around her thighs, and he opened her even wider to his touch and his stare.

  To his mouth.

  Pink flesh, moist and waiting.

  His lips touched her first. A light caress. Gentle and easy.

  “Simon, more!” No gentle and easy command there.

  His tongue swiped over her clit and she jolted. His fingers tightened around her thighs, clamping down harder and he pulled her flush against his mouth.

  He took.

  His tongue tasted, licked. His mouth worked the tight button of her desire. He felt her stiffen, felt the coil of her muscles, and he learned what she liked.

  What she loved.

  Her thighs shook. Her fingers latched onto his shoulders—the better to hold him tight. Not that he was going anywhere. No damn place right then.

  His tongue stabbed into her sex. Her taste, that sweet and spicy blend, filled his mouth, and he knew he couldn’t get enough. Not now.

  Not even close.

  The tremble began in her sex, a telling tightening that he knew came right before orgasm.

  Scream for me.

  He freed her thighs. His thumb pressed onto her clit. His tongue thrust into that tight slit—

  Dee came against his mouth, her body bucking, her fingernails biting deep into his flesh.

  But the woman didn’t make a sound.

  His gaze lifted and he saw her eyes go blind. The perfect lash of pleasure covered her face, but she bit her lip, holding back the cry of 38

  pleasure.

  Screw that shit.

  He rose, licking his lips, tasting her and wanting to fuck her so badly that he burned. A bead of blood appeared on her lip. Small, so red.

  His mouth lowered toward her. Easy.

  She turned her head away and his lips skated over her jaw.

  Dammit.

  Her nails retreated and he missed the bite immediately. Her hands curved over him, hesitant now that the fire was slaked. “That was…ah…

  nice.”

  What?

  His eyes narrowed as he lifted his upper body. Simon caught her chin and forced her to look at him. Her tongue slicked over her lower lip, taking away that drop of blood. “Nice?” He repeated.

  No, the woman hadn’t just said that to him.

  Her smile came then, a slow curl that lit her face, then her eyes.

  “Maybe better than nice.”

  A tease. Should have known it.

  Her bare legs shifted against his jean-clad thighs.

  “A lot better,” he told her definitely.

  One blond brow rose.

  “The best you ever had,” he continued, keeping his lips flat when they wanted to lift in response to the furrow that appeared between the brows.

  Dee blinked, a long, slow blink. “You don’t know what I’ve had.”

  He bit back the sudden fury that rose in him. “Don’t want to know,”

  he gritted.

  Her fingers slid between them and reached for the button on the jeans.

  “Let’s see what happens when we have—”

  His jaw clenched. Now this was the painful part. His balls would be blue all day long. “I’ve got to leave, babe.”

  “What?” Surprise there. Hurt?

  Maybe. A good sign.

  He rose from the couch and didn’t bother dragging his gaze off her naked body as he straightened his own clothes.

  She didn’t bother to cover up. “Where are you going?”

  “To take one very cold shower.” Honesty, finally. Kind of felt good to be honest with her.

  Her brows pulled low in confusion as she asked, “Why?”

  Because sex right then wasn’t the way to gain her trust. The way to gain some hard, fast pleasure, hell yeah, but not the way to get to his end 39

  goal. “Because we’re going to be more than a fast fuck, Sandra Dee.”

  “Dee.” Her breasts heaved as she straightened. Gorgeous. Maybe he’d have one more taste.

  He bent toward her and swiped his tongue over her nipple. Yes.

  Could have been his sigh. Could have been hers.

  Leave.

  A hard suck on that nipple, then he pulled back. “The hours before dawn are hard, aren’t they?”

  Her breath came fast. “Wh-what are you doing to me?”

  Everything he could.

  “You needed me to fight the dark. You called, I came.” Well, not quite the coming he would have liked. “Remember that. I gave but I didn’t take a single thing from you.”

  Next time, he wouldn’t be so nice. Especially since being nice wasn’t really in his genetic makeup.

  His gaze dropped to her sex. He could still taste her. His teeth snapped together.

  She rose but didn’t bother reaching for her clothes. What was she trying to do to him?

  He could lift her up, shove into her, and take the woman right there.

  Dee was so light, he’d hold her and thrust and make her scream.

  Pleasure, not pain.

  Because he could do that, too, no matter what the whispers said.

  “I don’t understand you,” she said.

  “I think you understand me better than anyone else.” He let the words fall between them and managed to drag his gaze up to hers. “I did my research, Dee, just like I know you did yours.”

  Not even a flicker of expression. But she reached for her shirt. Tugged it on with steady hands.

  “We both know what it’s like when the monsters come.” He wouldn’t say anything else. Couldn’t.

  Simon turned away and marched for the door. Dee didn’t stop him. He didn’t expect her to. That was, after all, part of the plan.

  When he yanked open her door, the first rays of sunlight hit him.

  Dawn.

  He glanced back. “More than a fuck, Dee.” So much more. “When you need me, you know how to find me.”

  Squaring his shoulders, he headed into the light.

  And not once did he glance back.

  40

  Chapter 4

  When night fell, coming with its thick, hot darkness and moonless sky, Dee headed back to Onyx.

  There’d been no sign of the woman since their last encounter, and she’d spent all day using every one of Night Watch’s contacts in hope of finding Sunshine.

  No luck.

  So Dee figured she’d better let the woman find her again.

  And that was why her butt was parked once again at the bar.

  Her gaze scanned the crowd. Pretty light since it was only a little past nine. The heavy hitters would come in later.

  Her stare tracked across the room, not lingering too long, looking for the tall, muscled length of—

  “Hell.” Dee ground her back teeth together as she caught herself. The object was to find the woman from last night, not Chase.

  Not the man who’d given her a fast, hard ride straight into one of her better orgasms, then walked away.

  Walked away.

  What had been up with that?

  More than a fuck. She spun toward the bartender. “A beer, Mike. The cheaper, the better.” One drink, that was all she ever allowed herself when she hunted. A big, long glass mirror ran the length of the bar and Dee stared at her reflection. Wow—was that her hair? Maybe she should—

  Her eyes locked on a man. Black hair. Broad shoulders. Tall, stron
g.

  Don’t-give-a-damn swagger.

  Chase.

  Her breath eased out.

  The man was double-timing it to the exit.

  Running from her?

  Or chasing something? Someone?

  “Hold the beer.” She shoved away from the bar. “Be back in five.”

  The exit door had already swung shut, but Dee rushed forward. If there was a hunt, she’d be in on the action. And if there wasn’t…

  Well, she had a few things to say to Mr. More Than A Fuck.

  Her fingers clamped around the door knob. Just in case, she went out silently, armed, ready.

  41

  But no one was there. Just an empty back lot.

  What the hell?

  “You did well.” The vampire stared into the human female’s eyes, enjoying the soft ebb and flow of her blood. Her heart raced as he crossed to her. With every step, the blood flowed faster.

  She smiled at him. “She was right where you said she’d be. All alone.” A quick swipe of her tongue across those ripe red lips. “I-I could have killed her for you. I would have.”

  Such an eager little helper. “I know.” He trailed his fingertip down her cheek. Lisa. He didn’t remember her last name. Didn’t care.

  “I’d do anything for you,” she whispered and her eyes were so wide and blue. “Anything.”

  Because she wanted to live forever. Because Lisa, with her thin thighs and her big breasts and her perfect face, was aging. Slowly. One faint line at a time.

  “I’m not afraid to kill.” Her chin lifted even as she swayed toward him.

  His fangs lengthened. He’d love to have one more taste of her. Fresh blood was always the best. “No, you’ve proven that.” She’d brought prey to him that very first night. His fingers trailed down her throat and curled over that frantic pulse. “But are you afraid to die?”

  Hope lit her eyes. “You’re going to do it? You’re going to change me?” Her smile stretched her face. “I’m not afraid, I want—”

  “Good.” Then he lifted the weapon he’d kept hidden and stabbed her.

  Right in that laboring heart.

  She choked at first, probably on her own blood because he saw the trickle of red slide from the corner of her mouth. Those wide eyes filled with pain and shock because this wasn’t the death she’d expected.

  Because he hated for all that good blood to go to waste, he bent toward her, and licked those sweet drops away from her lips.

  Then he let her body fall.

  Time to get the other bitch.

  Now this was just…weird. Dee shoved the stake back into her ankle holster. She tilted her head, straining to pick up some sound to indicate movement, but she just caught the muted beat of music.

  “Chase?”

  Maybe he’d circled back around to the front of the building. Possible.

  But that fast?

  42

  Her gaze darted to the row of cars nestled on the left. She didn’t see anyone over there, but…

  Dee stalked to the vehicles, aware of a growing tension in her body.

  Last night, a woman had told her she’d die here.

  Being back now, okay, that would make anyone nervous.

  Narrowing her eyes, she caught sight of a small, red vehicle. Wait—that was—

  A rush of wind behind her.

  Oh, damn. Dee froze. She didn’t need to look back to know she wasn’t alone anymore. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” she muttered. Her fingers were just a few inches away from her gun holster. So if she was right and a vamp had just closed in on her—damn but they were almost as quiet as shifters these days—then a gunshot wouldn’t kill him.

  But it would still hurt. A lot. And it would give her the precious minutes she needed to stake the asshole.

  “I have been watching you,” he said, his voice clipping a bit with an English accent.

  “Have you?” She turned, slowly, to face the vampire. Her fingers brushed the holster. “And I’ve been waiting on you.” Dee shook her head.

  “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s wrong to make a woman wait?”

  His fangs were out. Long and sharp. As she watched, his blue eyes faded to black. Great. Dee swallowed. A vamp in full hunting mode.

  “I’m not here to play with you.” That black stare raked her.

  “Oh?” This was it. “Then I guess we better skip the fore-play, huh?”

  No way to tell if this was the Born Master or one of his minions because the Borns, they always had freaking minions. “Maybe we should just get around to the death part.” Dee jerked out her gun and fired, six times, dead center in his chest.

  Flesh and bone torn away, blood splattered around them. Dee stood so close that the bastard’s blood rained on her.

  But he didn’t flinch. Didn’t fall to his knees. Didn’t stumble. Just stared at her, and smiled. “You’ll wish I killed you, before it’s over.”

  She still had more bullets. This time, Dee aimed for the head.

  “Promises, promises.” Her finger tightened around the trigger—and they attacked.

  Five, no, six vamps jumped from the darkness, teeth and claws out and ready to kill. Dee didn’t waste breath on a scream. She fired, fired until the trigger just clicked. They took her down and her body hit the ground, hard. But, twisting like a snake beneath the fists and bodies, she managed to grab her stake—new weapon, new fight. Dee swiped out at them, too aware 43

  that she’d made a fatal mistake and walked right into their trap.

  You’re dead, Dee. Sunshine’s voice rang in her head. No one will mourn. No one will even miss you when you’re rotting in the ground.

  Simon had just walked into Onyx when he heard the distinct thunder of gunfire. Hell.

  His gaze scanned the big room. Dee, be here.

  A curvy redhead walked by him, a wide smile on her lips. “Hi there, handsome, I’m—”

  “Not interested.” He brushed by her and cut a quick path to the bar.

  He slammed his hands down on the counter. “I’m looking for a woman.”

  The bartender didn’t glance up. “Try looking behind you.”

  Growling, Simon leaned over the counter and grabbed the idiot’s shirt.

  Whiskey spilled over his hand. “You remember the woman I was with last night.” Not a question.

  The guy’s eyes bulged. “You kidding me? Do you know how many chicks come in here every night? No way do I—”

  “Small. Blond hair she’d hacked to pieces. Tight ass and lips that—”

  “Her.”

  “Where is she?”

  The bartender pointed one hand to the left. Exit.

  Simon thrust him back. He spun around—

  And came face to face with a demon.

  Not just any demon. Her demon. Another Night Watch hunter. Zane Wynter. The guy looked like a human, but Simon knew he was far more monster than man. Simon snarled, “You’re supposed to be watching her ass.”

  “Thought that was what you were doing last night.”

  The music had kicked up. The band blasted some screaming shit and

  —was that another shot? “Out of my way,” Simon ordered.

  The demon didn’t move. Fine.

  Simon shoved the bastard back, a good three feet, and ran for the exit even as the demon shattered a table before he hit the floor.

  A kick sent the door flying open. “Dee!” He could smell her, that wild scent drifting in the air.

  Simon rushed forward and saw the gun tossed on the ground. Her gun.

  “Dee!”

  But he couldn’t see his little hunter.

  Gone.

  Maybe dead.

  44

  Sonofabitch.

  Growling, he took off into the night, following the scent of the blood trail as fast as he could. Dee had made her attackers bleed and that sweet scent would take him right to her.

  If he could get there in time.

  The wail of sirens wo
ke her. A loud, hard scream she’d heard too many times before. Dee fought to open her eyes. A groan tore from her lips as pain wracked her body.

  Vampires.

  The breath she’d tried to suck in now choked out as realization crashed into her.

  Had she taken them down? Or had they Taken her?

  Please, no.

  The stench hit her then. The coppery odor she’d first caught long ago and had never forgotten. Couldn’t.

  No, not again.

  Her lashes fluttered open. She squinted, trying to see. But it was so dark. Pitch black.

  She shoved up and a blast of agony burned through her head at the move. Shit that hurt. Her hands slapped down as she struggled for balance, and something sticky and wet coated her fingertips.

  No.

  The scent hit her again, stronger now that she was aware, striking like a hard punch in the face. Bile rose and she choked, scared, sick.

  Not again.

  She scrambled back, but hit something. Something soft and still.

  Her eyes narrowed as she strained to see but the darkness was too perfect. Her hands fumbled, reaching out.

  Flesh.

  An arm. Cold to the touch.

  A hip.

  Stomach.

  Then—oh, God, no—

  A loud boom blasted to her right and light exploded on her as—what?

  A door?—flew open.

  “Dee!”

  Her head jerked at the sound and the move sent fire burning through the base of her skull.

  “Oh, damn, what the hell happened?”

  45

  That voice…Simon.

  A crack of light shot in behind him, illuminating the sparse interior of her hell. She glanced away from him, following the horror in his eyes to see the body.

  High-end clothes, soaked red. Long, tangled black hair covered half of the woman’s face. A face she knew. Little Miss Sunshine lay dead beneath her hands. Not a pretty death. Too brutal.

  Dee’s fingertips fluttered around the wooden stake that had been driven into the other woman’s heart.

  Her breath rasped out. “I-I didn’t—” Her hands flew back. A human.

  Sunshine had been a human. In life, and in death.

  Dee tried to scramble up, but she slipped and fell in the blood that coated the floor.