He shook his head, folding his hands in his lap. “Ah, now I must apologize twice. First for needing to cut our session short this evening due to a rash of unexplained deaths, and second for allowing my distress over those deaths to cause my energy to be so intense that I frightened you. Please forgive me.”
My deodorant just said “f**k it.”
I wouldn’t even bother to claim I hadn’t been afraid. He’d obviously sensed—or maybe scented—my fear. And I’m sure my heart was pounding loud enough for him to dance to. Even though he wasn’t as skilled at telepathy as Devereux, he’d promised to mute his mind-reading abilities while we were in session. He’d been diligent about keeping his word until tonight, so clearly something troubled him.
“There’s nothing to forgive.” I smiled. Whatever I’d felt from him earlier had dissipated. My radar quieted. “Tell me about these deaths.”
He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and crossed his legs, his brows contracted. “It’s all very strange. As you know, most vampires—especially weak, young ones—have little control over their appetites and impulses. Their world is violent, harsh, and dark. It isn’t until we survive beyond the first few years that our true personalities emerge once again, and we have choices. Most of us can’t even regulate our heart rate, breathing, or body temperature for centuries. So, given that environment, new bloodsuckers occasionally turn up truly dead for one reason or another. Usually, only a few per week, at most.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Over the last month, there have been scores. All over the city. Vampires dying like flies. And some humans, too.”
Uh-oh. Déjà vu.
“How are they dying?” Was there some kind of vampire virus afoot? Chemical warfare? A mob of marauding vampire killers? Another bloodsucking serial killer on the loose?
“That’s the odd part. There’s no cause of death. None of the victims were drained of blood. No apparent wounds. They simply ceased existing.”
My notepad fell onto the floor. “But, how is that possible?”
“That’s the question. And I don’t have an answer. In the meantime, I have the uncomfortable task of defending clients who are actually innocent—who simply managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He checked his watch, and stood. “As I said, I must end our session early this evening. So much carnage—so little moonlight.”
He bent and kissed my hand. “I will see you at our regular time next week. Hopefully, I will have good news. Until then.”
He vanished.
I retrieved my notepad from the floor, rose, and walked over to the window, contemplating the disturbing information Mr. Roth had shared. I couldn’t imagine something powerful enough to kill vampires and humans without leaving a trace. I hoped none of my clients would be affected by this dark turn of events. Devereux probably had information, but he was out of town, so I couldn’t ask him. Yet.
The unexpected change in schedule left me feeling disconnected and set adrift. I hated to admit it, but I’d come to rely on Devereux’s companionship. When he was off being master of the vampires or international mega-corporate genius, I missed him.
You’re pitiful, Kismet. Time to get a life.
An enticing aroma caressed my nostrils and a velvet voice whispered, inches from my ear, “What kind of life would you like? The possibilities are unlimited.” Soft lips trailed kisses down my neck and my brain cells scrambled.
Devereux …
My breath caught and it took me a couple of tries before I found my voice.
“You’re back. There’s something I wanted to ask you. If I could only remember what it was …”
Or why I’d want to use my mouth for talking when it could be put to such better uses.
“Later.”
He kissed my jaw and I was undone.
As always when Devereux was near, my body had a mind of its own. I relaxed against his chest and reveled in his arousing fragrance and the feel of his soft hair tickling the side of my face. My heart rate increased, and my breath went shallow. Formerly functional knees softened. I was never sure if my reaction to his presence was excitement, fear, or a little of both. Was my body simply reacting to my outrageous attraction to him, or was he manipulating me with his powers as a master vampire? Should I care? Probably. Maybe later.
I closed my eyes, hesitating before I turned to him. There had to be something wrong with how he affected me. It couldn’t be psychologically healthy for me to want to throw myself on him within seconds of his approach—to want to cling to him like a cheap spandex suit. I’d gotten better at reining in my impulses, but it was still a struggle.
Nobody should have a face that gorgeous. Or eyes so magnetic. Or a body so compelling. It just wasn’t … normal.
Right, Kismet. As if anything about a vampire could be normal.
He slid his hands up and down my arms, then stroked my h*ps through the soft, form-fitting fabric of my dress, and moaned softly. His tongue flicked along my neck, and I relaxed my head even more, lifting my chin to give him better access to his favorite pulsing vein. I’d discovered that allowing Devereux to drink my blood while we have sex pushes my orgasm into the stratosphere. I felt like a shameless addict, jonesing for the sharp needle points of his teeth to pierce my skin, providing the fix I craved. Instead of biting, he just nibbled gently then let go.
I groaned in disappointment.
He whispered against my ear. “I love how you desire me. I can feel your need.”
I could feel his … need … too, pressing against me.
Shouldn’t I be annoyed by this guy’s ego? His arrogant assumption that I want him? The fact that it’s true is beside the point, isn’t it? I think I’m going to need to sit down soon. Or maybe lie down. Yeah, lying down would be much better.
“Look at me, Kismet.”
Look at you? Nope, that’s always trouble. I think I’ll just stay right where I am, rubbing my buns against your “throbbing manhood,” as they used to say in the romance novels.
“My throbbing manhood?”
Damn mind-reading vampire.
But something about the way he’d said those words, with his strange manner of speaking and his European accent, made me laugh. In fact, I laughed so hard that he gasped as I vibrated against his erection. Since he rarely sucked in air on purpose, much less allowed anyone to catch him by surprise, I was intrigued. I simply had to look at him, so I turned.
The expression on his face was heart-stopping.
He’d tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and parted his lips just enough so that the tips of his fangs glistened. His beautiful light blond hair flowed down his chest, soft and touchable. He was dressed in his usual snug, black leather pants with a vibrant blue silk T-shirt tucked in at the waist, displaying his well-toned body to perfection.
I studied him, my heart pounding in lustful anticipation. He truly was an unusually beautiful man. He opened his eyes and I felt myself falling—as if the carpet I’d been standing on had liquefied, and I sank into a blue-green universe. I’d never been totally sure what color his eyes were. What was the difference between turquoise and aqua, anyway? But obviously, arousal brought out the best in his devilish orbs because they sparkled like gemstones. Or maybe it was a vampire thing. He gave a slow blink, and a wicked smile quirked his lips. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me close for a kiss.
Without any more hesitation, I looped my arms around his neck, fit my body tight against his, and kissed him back. His mouth was wonderful: warm and soft and wet. He teased his tongue through my lips and I opened for him, inviting him to take more. Regardless of any other doubts I might have had about my relationship with Devereux, our sexual chemistry was never in question.
Part of me was lost in the delicious thing his mouth was doing, and another part noticed the fact that we were standing in front of the window, for all of Denver to see. As soon as I thought that, he broke the kiss.
“Yes. We require privacy. I totally agree.”
The office suite consisted of several rooms. One—at Devereux’s insistence when I agreed to take the space—was a bedroom. Clients would never know what was behind that door, but Devereux and I had made ample use of it many times. I knew what he had in mind when he scooped me up into his arms.
I used to get irritated when he did the scooping thing, but I’d acclimated. Sort of. Sometimes I even secretly enjoyed it. Of course, that wasn’t always the case. We had plenty of arguments about his “macho” behavior. He insisted he wasn’t trying to dominate me, only to express his feelings. But no matter what kind of spin he put on his behavior, the truth was that it couldn’t be easy for a centuries-old male to cope with the expectations and desires of a modern woman. And it was no picnic for me to deal with a night-walking Neanderthal. No matter how gorgeous and debonair. The topic was definitely still under discussion.
He thought us into the bedroom, mentally lit the candles scattered throughout the area, and deposited me onto the large bed, which was covered with a fluffy, white silk comforter. I sighed with pleasure as my body relaxed into the soft cloud of fabric.
Moving through thought used to jar my equilibrium, but now I found it energizing. For some reason, I’d had a more difficult time believing bodies could shift through time and space than acknowledging the bizarre fact that the world was populated with horror-movie creatures. I had to give my brain credit for learning to deal with the impossible on a daily basis.
Devereux stood next to the bed, oozing sexuality, staring at me. He tugged his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, leaving his pale chest bare except for the unique medallion he always wore. The necklace appeared ordinary enough, but I’d seen it flare like a beacon. I didn’t care what tricks it could perform, though. I was more interested in the muscular chest it was nestled against.
I’d almost lost him five months ago. He’d been the target of an undead vendetta, and his own powerful magic had been used against him. Devereux insisted he sprang from the same lineage as the wizard Merlin. His ancestors were witches and seers. I was still working on accepting that bit of information. Did I mention that I’d met Devereux’s dead mother?
During that surreal experience, Bryce, one of the vampires who had been turned by my blond immortal, had gained knowledge of the ancient wizardly wisdom, and tried to manipulate Devereux. Seems he lusted after him and felt rejected by Devereux’s disinterest. Hell hath no fury like a bloodsucker scorned. Bryce almost succeeded in his plan to capture Devereux for his own pleasure, except for the inconvenient fact that I chopped his head off with a ceremonial sword.
It took Devereux six weeks to recover from the spell Bryce and his evil helpers cast. Little did the jealous offspring know it would be his own blood that fueled the ritual fire.
Devereux cocked his head and smiled. “It does not require mind-reading abilities in order to interpret the expression on your face, my love. You need not worry about me I have fully recovered and am stronger for the challenge.” He slid his hand down the flat plane of his stomach, and popped open the button on the waistband of his pants. “Let me prove it to you.”
Various parts of my body grinned, jumped up and down, and yelled, “Yippee!” The rest of me held her breath, reaching for the mental popcorn.
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband, and angled the leather down his legs. His long, platinum hair fell forward like a silky curtain. I had a sudden urge to grab that curtain and pull him down on top of me, but resisted. It was much more fun watching him disrobe and crawl onto the bed. Much more arousing.
His na**d body definitely qualified as eye candy. Long and lean with muscles in all the right places. He was always so comfortable in his own skin, so at ease with his nudity. But, after all the centuries he’d inhabited that skin, I guess it was to be expected that he’d enjoy it.
Eternity as a sex object. What man could ask for more?
“I am only interested in being a sex object for you,” he said, as he stretched out next to me, lying on his side. He braced his head with a hand and smiled, watching me. He trailed a finger across my lips. “You are wearing entirely too many clothes. I wonder, what might we do to correct that situation?”
Bursting with ideas, I rolled toward him and let my gaze slide down his body, allowing my eyes to take detours in order to appreciate the natural wonders along the route. One monument in particular stood out from the scenery, and my hand reached over to explore.
Devereux groaned. There simply was nothing like a lusty Devereux groan. His voice was always enticing and magical, but the erotic sensuality he layered into that deep, growling sound sent waves of pleasure through my body, hardened my ni**les, and caused moisture to pool in my nether regions. Yes, it was that good.
I tightened my fingers around his erection, then slowly released my grip. “I know just what to do with all these clothes,” I whispered. I kicked off my shoes, flung them into the air, and heard them land on the lush carpet. Then, like a stripper popping out of a cake, I rose to my feet on the bed, peeled the soft dress over my head, and tossed it onto the floor. Next came my black, lace bra and matching panties. I bounced up and down on the mattress a couple of times just for the fun of it—causing the bloodsucking hunk at my feet to bark out a laugh—then threw myself down on my back, smiling.
I turned to him, fitting my na**d body against his. “So, where were we?”
His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Let me see if I remember.” He smoothed the palm of his hand over my breast and pinched my painfully hard nipple. Then he leaned in, caught my lower lip between his teeth and fangs—which had descended—and gave me a playful nip. I gasped and he pulled away, probably thinking he’d hurt me. To show him the error of his conclusion, I circled his neck with my arms, guided him in closer, pressed my lips to his, and teased my tongue into his mouth. I’d learned during our first sexual encounter that Devereux loved to have his fangs sucked on as much as another part of his anatomy. In fact, sliding my tongue up and down his canines had the same effect as what I planned to do next.