He sat up and took her offered hand, rubbing his thumb against her palm in a feather-light motion. His hand was surprisingly cool. “Hello, Tempest. I’mMalveaux . Please join me.”
His voice was like rich chocolate wrapped in thick velvet. It flowed over her body and into her ears like auditory silk. She just knew he’d give great phone sex. Her pu**y twitched, and moisture pooled between her legs. Her ni**les hardened and poked defiantly through the thin fabric of her pink tank top.
She thought she might come just from listening to him talk. She’d certainly had sex with enough musicians just because they had great voices.
She sat next to him in the booth, and noted a flicker of surprise cross his face before he brought his expression back under control. She wondered if he’d assumed she’d sit across from him. But what was the point of wasting time? She was a woman on a mission, and why beat around the bush?
“Malveaux?That’s an unusual name. Is that your first name or last?” He’d pronounced it like a French word, but she didn’t detect any accent other than generic American. She had a sudden desire to run her fingers up and down the well-toned arm nearest her and indulged herself.
He glanced slowly down at her fingers on his arm, and then met her eyes and smiled. “It’s my only.”
She studied his face and felt even more certain that he’d special-ordered it.Eyes exactly the right distance apart, framed by sculpted eyebrows.Cheekbones just definite enough and a strong chin with the merest hint of an indentation.Great lips. The man even had dimples when he smiled. He’d either paid for it, or his genetics were awesome. He definitely qualified as a pretty boy, but there was something old and tired about his eyes. His past must have had some rough edges. There had to be more to this guy than just his god-like appearance. She could only imagine how much he’d spent at the dentist to get thatHollywood smile. Who was this guy?
There was no question in her mind that the two of them would f**k.And soon. Since she figured she’d only spend one night with him, and the time was ticking away, she decided to ratchet up the negotiations.
Shifting her body toward him, she brushed a clump of his long, dark hair from his cheek lightly with her fingernail. “Forgive me for resorting to a boring cliché, but your place or mine?” She slid her hand up his leather-clad thigh and found his erection. She squeezed gently. “If this isn’t inside me very soon, I won’t be responsible for what happens.”
He laughed and covered her hand with his, encouraging the impromptu massage. “I love a woman who knows what she wants. I’d suggest my place, but it’s some distance from here and, quite frankly, I don’t want to wait that long.How about yours?”
She started to say she thought that was a terrific idea, when she remembered the message her roommate, Lauren, had left on their answering machine, reminding Tempest she’d be back from her vacation in Hawaii that night. Lauren would no doubt be having catch-up sex with her boyfriend all over their apartment. Normally, Tempest wouldn’t be shy about adding more bodies to the mix but for some reason she didn’t feel like sharing her new discovery. She wanted to keep this guy all to herself.
“Damn!” She moved her hand off his bulge without thinking. “My roommate’s coming home tonight, and she’ll be at the apartment with her boyfriend, so that won’t work.” She glanced at the partially steam-covered window near the front of the bar, which provided clear evidence that the blizzard was still kicking the shit out of the city. “And as much as I want to jump your luscious bones, I’m not willing to do it in the backseat of a freezing car. Maybe. . .”
He leaned in and kissed her, swallowing the rest of her words. His tongue slid artfully into her mouth, exploring slowly, and she offered hers in return. Deepening the kiss, she lost all sense of how long they’d had their lips pressed together or if anyone else was still in the room. Her mind distantly registered that he wore an appealingly sensual, subtly earthy fragrance. The man’s mouth should have been a registered weapon because it destroyed her ability to do anything beyond the basics. Her brain moved and left no forwarding address. She melted into his soft, warm mouth and moaned. Pulling away, he said, “Let’s get a room.”
She smiled wide, savored the taste of him on her lips, and slid out of the booth. “I’ll get my things.”
Chapter Three
Malveauxcouldn’t believe his luck. He watched the sweet, round ass of the lovely musician sway as she retreated across the dance floor and smiled. Never in his wildest,vampire wet dreams would he have imagined that such a perfect sex goddess would cross his path on such a terrible night. Especially not in a shit can bar like this one. His dick throbbed in gleeful anticipation, and his fangs became so excited they tried to crash the party before he forced them to retract back into his gums. No horror movie props yet; it wouldn’t do to scare off the prey before his objectives were met. He appreciated for a moment how convenient it was that nobody believed in vampires. Nobody, that is, except for some of the mob guys who were used to monsters of all kinds. After all, in this part of town, human monsters were reflected in every mirror. Blood-drinking fiends were only a problem if they cut into the mob’s action.
But he didn’t want to think about work. He wanted to enjoy the way Tempest’s full tits jiggled when she moved, and the way her tight jeans drew his gaze to the erotic space between her legs. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined how she would taste; both her pu**y and her blood. It was probably dangerous for him to be so distracted, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aroused. He wasn’t much of a believer in things like “fate” or “destiny,” but he had to admit there seemed to be method to the madness in his meeting Tempest, just when he’d needed to find the right offspring. He wasn’t sure if she’d be appropriate, but he was certainly going to have onehelluva good time finding out.
One simply didn’t look a gift twat in the mouth, or something to that effect, he thought, chuckling.
Becoming aware that she was moving toward him, her guitar case in one hand and a beat-up briefcase in the other, he stood. She wore a baggy, worn-out leather jacket covered with various motorcycle gang symbols. He studied the ancient garment and raised his eyebrows. It looked like something dragged out of the attic of some Hell’s Angel.
“This is my dad’s jacket,” Tempest offered, obviously reading his elevated eyebrows. “He got it from Jim Morrison back in the day. I have a superstitious thing about wearing it when I start a new gig. It brings me luck.” She smiled. “And apparently it brings mestudly sex partners, too.”
He chuckled. “That sounds like quite a club: ‘TheStudly Sex Partners.’ I intend to distinguish myself from the pack. Perhaps you’ll create a new title for me.”
Malveauxlifted his coat from the seat of the booth and slipped it on. He grinned and took her hand, raising it to his lips, and then kissed her palm gently. Staring into her eyes, he allowed himself to transmit only a slight hypnotic effect. He licked down her index finger, and then sucked it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Slowly pulling her finger out of his mouth, he released her hand, letting it drift back down to her side.
Tempest took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “Jesus. If you’regonna do stuff like that, we’re not going to make it to the car.”
“Speaking of the car, why don’t you wait here a moment and let me bring it closer to the door?” He kissed her cheek, buttoned his coat for appearances sake, and lifted the collar around his neck. He enjoyed behaving like a mortal who worried about being cold. Walking quickly through the entryway, he pushed out into the snowstorm.
It hadn’t occurred toMalveaux when he parked earlier that he might have company in his car. He’d only visited this neighborhood to feed and find a little sexual relief. His unexpectedly increasing sexual need had over-ridden his distaste for spending any extra time here, beyond what was required to do his job.
He’d been more concerned about concealing his presence than about finding a convenient spot for his silver Jaguar, so the car was hidden in the underground parking lot of a business associate several blocks away. He knew it was ridiculous for a vampire to be so fixated on a human gadget, but he found cars --
especially the fast, sleek ones -- irresistible. There hadn’t been such wondrous toys when he’d been alive.Malveaux moved with preternatural speed and arrived at the car’s location in only a few seconds.
He revved up the engine of his prized transportation, threw some newspapers off the passenger seat, and guided the purring cat out onto the snow-clogged road. The snow was no match for the Jag’s traction.
Pulling up in front of the bar, he left the motor running and dashed inside to help Tempest carry her things out to the car. He entered just in time to hear her arguing with the drummer of her band. A “f**k you”
reverberated off the walls as Tempest slammed out the door into the storm. He smiled at how well suited she was for her name.
After they were both settled in the Jag,Malveaux asked, “Is there a problem?” Not that he really cared what she had going on with the musician, but he wanted to avoid any unnecessary complications. If the drummer was a disgruntled boyfriend who might follow them, things could get messy. He didn’t want any witnesses to what was about to happen.
“No. No problem. Stan just gets jealous once in a while. He’s a sweet guy, but nothing serious is ever going to happen between us. He’s like a brother to me.”
Malveauxknew, from scanning her memories earlier, that she’d been having very enthusiastic sex with the “brother” for years. He slanted a look at her.“Hmm. I’d guess the relationship is pretty incestuous, if he’s like a brother.”
Tempest hooted out a laugh.“Busted.”
They drove slowly through the deserted street, making fresh tire tracks in the virgin snow, the only sound the whoosh of the windshield wipers. After a couple of minutes, Tempest shifted in her seat to face Malveaux . “Stan thinks you’re ‘Family,’ one of the mob guys.”
“Does he, now?”
“Are you?”
“Does it make a difference to you?To our sexual agenda for the night?”
She was quiet for a moment,then laughed. “No, it doesn’t make a difference, but I always like to know whose brains I’m screwing out.”
He gave her a warm smile. “Let me put your mind at ease. There’s a lot about me I can’t tell you, and I often work for people with whom I wouldn’t socialize, but I’m not a Family member. Are you okay with screwing a mystery man?”
She slid her hand across his lap until it found his warm bulge. “Mystery men are my favorites.Especially mystery men who can stay hard in minus-ten-degree weather. I thought that was a physical impossibility.
I can’t wait to see what else you can do with this thing.”
He lowered his voice. “I look forward to showing you.”
“Where are we going?”
“Since we’re close, I thought we’d go to one of the new hotels that just opened downtown. How about theWinsteadTower ? I hear the soundproofing is state of the art.”
“Soundproofing, eh? Should I ask what kinds of noises you make when you f**k?”
“Actually, I’m relatively quiet, but my partners tend to have screaming orgasms.”
“Jesus. Drive faster, will you?”
* * * * *
TheRoxy Theater had been built in the oldest part ofDetroit during the 1920s. Surrounded by other architecturally-spectacular buildings, at one time it had been a world-class performance venue. The art deco masterpiece had been designed inside and out by Arturo Landau, that era’sreigning king of colorful geometric forms, and it was a sought-after destination for the wealthy for many years. Like much of the city, the beauty of the building had been obliterated by human stupidity and shortsightedness. Quadestood at a window in what was left of theRoxy’s ornate penthouse, staring out at the blizzard pounding the usually-filthy streets. The white coating seemed to cleanse the city of its human contamination. The bleak scenery matched his mood. He’d expected his take-over ofDetroit to be well under way by now. Surely, it would be child’s play to infiltrate a crime-ridden area like the inner city, where his vampires could blend in with the other killers who’d been using it for their meal tickets. Who knew the greedy human idiots would be so hard to dislodge? They were like cockroaches. The fools didn’t even know they were up against immortals. They couldn’t possibly know. Success with humans could always be counted on if one never overestimated their IQs. Like lambs to the slaughter, their refusal to open their minds to dark possibilities was their undoing. After all, everyone knew there were no such things as vampires. He laughed out loud, and then sobered. Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to deal with mortal mobsters? What the f**k was The Assassin doing here?
The door opened behind him, and he turned, irritated. “Well? Did you find any sign ofMalveaux ? Did the trackers return yet?”
The messenger crept into the room.Quade didn’t have to read the lesser vampire’s mind. He could tell by the supplicant’s demeanor that he wouldn’t care for the answer. “No, Master. There’s no word about Malveaux or the trackers. We’ve sent out reinforcements, but the storm is making the situation more difficult.”
Quadeturned back to the window and snarled. “Find them.Or else.” He knew the stories about the one they called The Assassin. If even half of the tales were true, he was in trouble.
The click of the door closing echoed through the heavy silence.