Читать книгу Forever Vampire - Michele Hauf - Страница 8

CAUGHT.

Eyes wide and mouth gaping. Blond hair tumbled from beneath the black scarf. Unbelieving. Now that was a look Vail would cherish.

“Who are you?” She backed toward the window, but he didn’t think she would bolt, because her body language said I want to listen instead of I’m out of here. “Who sent you?”

“Ah, now that is the question, isn’t it? Who sent me?”

“I just asked that. Got a hearing problem?”

“I found you by sound and smell, sweetie. That perfume is sexy, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And what’s a pretty little vampiress doing away from her kidnappers like you just were? They give you a long leash? Where are those rascally kidnappers, by the by?”

“Get out of here. This is private property.”

Vail looked toward the front door, where he’d had to break a security lock to get inside. The smell of jasmine wafting out from inside had told him this was the right place. Yet the fact he could enter without a proper invitation told him a lot. Vampires could only freely enter public property. Yet another frustrating hazard of living in the mortal realm.

“It may be private, but it’s not your property. Which makes it vacant, and that falls under the public category. You always come through the window?”

Standing and marching across the room, the vampiress tugged off the scarf and tossed it aside. She was trapped and, like prey, paced in abandon like they always did when seeking an escape. She worked it, though, her long strides swinging her narrow hips, which revealed a peek of sexy skin between waistline and the hem of her shirt.

Vail maintained his position.

“Who are you?” she demanded again in a remarkably authoritative voice, considering her slender physique and those gorgeous cheekbones. And look at all that hair. It wasn’t mussed at all, spilling like ribbons of white gold over her shoulders. “I need a name.”

“Vaillant,” he offered freely. “But you can call me Vail.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“Apparently, it’s the one my mother gave me.”

She pointed at his face and twirled her finger before her. “What’s that stuff beneath your eyes? It sparkles.” She gave him a sideways sneer. “Are you a freakin’ faery?”

“Such vitriol drips from your pretty mouth. What have the sidhe ever done to you?”

“Nothing.” She paced some more. “Everything! Just get out, will you? This is my place. Go find your own hovel.”

Vail leaned his elbows onto the butcher-block counter behind him and smiled as sweetly as he could manage. He didn’t do sweet, but he could get close to amiable if he tried.

“I don’t think so. I’d like to hang around and have you introduce me to your kidnappers.”

“If you know I was kidnapped, my mother must have sent you. Did you come to rescue me? To bring me back to Mommy and lay me before her sacrificial altar?”

Vail tutted. “You have mother issues?” Even saying it cut into his heart. If anyone had issues regarding their mother …

“I’m not telling you anything.” She stopped before the bed, stared at it a few moments as if it might bite her, then plopped onto it and, shoulders high and straight, fixed an innocent gaze on him. “Get out, Vail the faery.”

“I’m not sidhe. I’m vampire.”

She scoffed. “Could have fooled me.”

“Why, thank you. I take that as a compliment.”

He strolled toward her. The efficiency apartment was small and open, so it was but ten strides to stand before the bed. Squatting, he clasped his hands between his bent legs. “Now, about your kidnappers. I assume the introductions are not going to happen, because the guilty party is sitting right here, before me.”

She looked aside. A pale beam from a distant streetlight glimmered through the window and highlighted her long, elegant nose, narrow face and chin. Vail believed the ice princess label; she wore it gorgeously. Her eyes were deep blue, almost—no, not violet. That was a color he had only seen on faeries.

“There are no kidnappers,” he ventured. “Are there?”

“You think you’re so smart?”

“Actually, let me lay it out for you.”

“Oh, please do. I’m all about the faery tales tonight.”

“Then look at me, please.”

He waited, but she tilted her head away from his gaze. Vail slid a palm along her cheek, the light getting trapped in his iron rings, and forced her head up. He gripped her chin firmly, and she flinched, but not out of his grasp.

“We can make this rough,” he warned, “or we can do this nice and sweet. Which do you prefer?”

If she said rough, he’d lose it right here. Vail was not immune to an attractive woman. Very well, so she was sexy. It was those damned white teeth, clear eyes and a touch of impudence. Nothing else. Couldn’t be the soft, panting breaths that indicated she was still winded from her adventure eluding him. And it most certainly was not her scent that seemed to curl into his brain and dally with the smarts he’d claimed to possess.

The fact she was vampire kept him from shoving her onto the mattress and drawing his tongue down her long, slender neck and to the full mounds of her breasts that peeked above the low neckline of her shirt.

“Tell me what you think you know,” she said through a tight jaw. She shoved his hand from her face, and fixed her hard gaze on him. “Vail.”

“I work for Hawkes Associates,” he said. “You know about them?”

She nodded, but stiffly. She wasn’t about to drop the tough-girl act. If she was a thief, like the rest of her family, then she’d probably honed some excellent avoidance tactics.

“Your mother hired us to track down her kidnapped daughter. Seems she—that is, you—had been taken from the Santiago mansion only minutes before you were to meet the Lord of Midsummer Dark for some kind of exchange. Taken, in a valuable faery gown. Mommy wants back her daughter and the dress. You following me so far?”

She jutted up her chin, defiant, but gave a curt nod.

“Seems you, Lyric Santiago—” he liked that she flinched when he recited her name “—were supposed to go along with the Lord of Midsummer Dark, the dress, I assume, being some sort of pseudodowry.”

“Where did you hear that? I was only delivering the thing. There’s no way I’d go near him again …” She shut her mouth.

Again? She had been in Zett’s presence before? A fact to note. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. And he didn’t want her to do so—it was more interesting this way. He liked watching prey squirm.

“Funny thing, though.” He thumbed his jaw, drawing out the moment and also inhaling her scent, which had deepened with her rising anxiety. Uncomfortable? She may be an ice princess, but he could thaw her out quick enough. “That dress was stolen from Hawkes Associates not ten days ago. Now, who do you think is tops on the suspect list?”

“You think I stole that ugly gown? Ha!”

“Ugly?” He stroked the side of his thumb along her cheek. She did not flinch, but he felt her muscles tense under his touch. Something about this scenario didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t pinpoint what, exactly. “I was told it was fashioned from faery diamonds, the most incredible and dazzling gemstone in the known world. Or unknown world, matters as they are.”

His thumb strayed to her lips, full, pink and soft, worth a kiss— Vail suddenly realized what he was doing.

What the hell was he doing? That had not been a harsh touch, but one of—admiration? Wib.

He stood, shoving his hand in a pocket. “You don’t like diamonds, Lyric?”

“They’re not so spectacular.”

“I imagine so, for one of your profession. You can steal them if you want them, eh?”

“I’m not a thief.”

“That has yet to be proven. What happened to the dress?”

“It’s a gown.”

“Gown. Dress.” Vail leaned over her. A tendril of blond hair swept his hand. It felt like summer. He fisted that hand behind his back to keep from touching her again. “What did you do with it?”

“They took it from me. And left me here.”

“‘They’ being these imaginary kidnappers of yours?”

She nodded. Liar.

“So you didn’t steal it?”

She shook her head.

“Nor did anyone in the notorious Santiago clan steal it?”

More negative head shaking.

“And now someone else has the gown, namely, your kidnappers.”

A positive nod.

Vail shoved her across the bed, pressing her shoulders to the mattress, which reeked of mildew and dust. Pinning a knee across her thighs, he prevented her from the anticipated sneak attack of her knee aiming for his jewels.

“You’re lying,” he growled at her. “There was no sign of force or struggle in your bedroom.”

“Force? The whole damned window was taken out!”

“But you expected that to happen, which is why the rest of your room was pristine. As well, the gown has not been sold because that is something the entire Faery realm would be aware of—”

“If Faery is so aware, why don’t they go right to the ugly thing and get it?”

“It’s not …” Like that.

Faery sensed the thing, but couldn’t pinpoint it. Not without expert trackers, and someone had to actually be wearing the gown to give out the strongest vibrations. And apparently the Seelie court was not currently aware it was anywhere but at Hawkes Associates.

“You plotted your own kidnapping to steal the dress yourself. Admit it!”

“It wasn’t for the gown—it was to get away from Zett!”

Vail pushed from the bed and walked a few steps away. Breathing out and raking his fingers through his hair, he then chuckled. He’d gotten the truth from her much quicker than he’d expected.

But seriously? The chick thought Zett had planned to take her to Faery with him? Vail doubted that very much.

On the other hand, he wasn’t privy to all Zett’s devious kinks. It was possible the bastard wanted Lyric for reasons unknown. And she had intimated they’d met previously.

“I get it,” he said. “You saw an opportunity and took it.”

“You’re not going to take me back to my mother, are you? I need time.”

A touch of measured panic warbled in her voice. She didn’t want to go back, but at the same time, she was not afraid of such an outcome.

“Time for what?”

The vampiress looked aside, giving him her silence again. The streetlight adorned her profile, glistening off fine cheekbones in a tempting tease. It reminded him of the constant glimmer in Faery, and of what made him most comfortable.

“I am going to return you to your mother,” Vail said, forcing away the image of light-kissed skin, “but the deal was you and the gown. Where is it?”

“I fenced it already.”

“Liar.”

“Junkie vampire.”

“Junkie?”

“You sparkle. Around your eyes and at your neck. It’s in your skin. I know what that’s from. You’re a dust freak.”

He laughed again and pointed at his eyes, which were neither bloodshot nor clouded, which is what happened to dust freaks. “You think so?”

She nodded, knowingly. The vampiress could not begin to know him. Ever.

“Think what you wish. The faster I can get this damned assignment wrapped up the sooner I can be rid of you.”

“Just walk away. That’ll take care of your problem, like that.” She snapped her fingers.

Vail leaned over her. “So who’s the fence?” She gave him the side of her face again.

After her false accusation, he had no patience. He gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. He considered enthralling her, but the little he knew regarding vampire-to-vampire relations was that a vamp couldn’t enthrall their own kind. Since arriving in the mortal realm, his power of persuasion had been frustratingly absent. And if he dusted her, she’d be worthless.

“I don’t have a name,” she offered.

“How do you contact him?”

“He calls me.”

Vail swung a surveying look around the small apartment. The place was merely a safe house, he suspected. It was empty, save the bare-mattress bed. Just a place to hide out until … Until? “Where’s your phone?”

“I … lost it.”

He narrowed his brows—then remembered. “I think I can help you with that.” Reaching into his back pocket, he drew something out and slammed the phone on the kitchen counter. “I guess I’m staying the night.”

“No! Where’d you get that?”

“Found it under your bed when I was looking through your room for clues.” He crossed his arms and kicked out a boot to put his weight against the counter. “I’m here until your fence calls, sweetie.”

“I hate you!”

“Not feeling much love for you, either.”

“I hate it all. I hate this place. I hate this awful, smelly bed.” She stood and kicked the bed frame, slamming the entire twin bed into the corner.

“Hey now, that’s no way to treat those pretty red shoes of yours, is it?”

“And I hate you again,” she retorted. “And I’m starving, which, thanks to you, my supper got off but he didn’t get me off.”

“Frustrated?” Vail ran a hand over his crotch.

She understood the signal. Tiny fists formed beside each of her thighs. Her plan had backfired, and now he would drag her home to her mother, kicking her pointy red shoes and screaming hate and damnation to high heaven. He couldn’t wait to do it.

The petulant vampiress stomped into the bathroom.

“Where you going?”

“Where does it look like?” She slammed the door shut.

Vail hiked himself up to sit on the kitchen counter. After a few minutes had passed, he heard the shower turn on. Seemed kind of strange to strip with a stranger so near and to just … get clean.

If she thought to parade out naked in an attempt to seduce him, the ice princess had better rethink that plan. He was not interested. Despite the erection he’d run his hand over moments earlier.

Seriously, Vail? You did not get hard over a vampiress. It was … adrenaline. Yeah, that’s it.

This was going to be a long night. And he did not like the idea of sitting around, waiting for the fence to contact Lyric. She had to know the name of the fence. To assess the mental capacity of her minions, the vampiress was definitely the brains of the operation.

How to get the information from her?

Maybe if he brought the starving vampiress supper? Dangled a tasty mortal before her? Slashed its wrist and dribbled blood into a wineglass?

That would be too much fun. But not practical, and he wasn’t into the horror of mortal blood. And besides, a tough little chick like Lyric Santiago would probably grab the mortal from him and sink in her teeth before he got anything from her.

Subtlety was required. How to appeal to a woman he had no desire to connect with on an intimate level?

Really? You’re going to stick with that attitude?

Vail blew out a breath. So he was attracted to her. Hawkes hadn’t given him any rules on how to gain the prize. So, he’d wing it.

Lyric turned on the shower and put the toilet cover down and sat. The running water provided a white noise barrier between her erratic thoughts and the overwhelming presence of the arrogant vampire who stood on the other side of the door.

She had expected a search party—the demon guards Charish had hired to accompany her to the hand-off site. She hadn’t expected that search party to be only one, and so … efficient. And sexy. So sexy, in fact, that she had sat there on the bed like an idiot, instead of escaping out the window behind her.

She was supposed to have more time. A day or two to get her thoughts in order and then hop a plane to climes unknown. A place to hide, yet exist without the worry that the faery lord would ever find her. And Leo, her brother, was supposed to track down a means to free her completely. She needed to contact him.

Had she been stupid to believe such a plan could work? All she wanted was to live her own life. To not be sent to make an exchange, which would become so much more than Charish could ever imagine.

Because really? The faery lord wouldn’t simply take the gown and bid her adieu; he’d kill her. Lyric knew that as well as she knew the vampire out in the kitchen was not going to leave her alone anytime soon.

She had never thought her life would come to this.

Sure, her dreams as a little girl had been similar to those of other little girls—mortal girls. Until the blood hunger had emerged at puberty. She’d always known she was vampire—had been born that way—and that the hunger for blood was a given. But she hadn’t expected it to erase all those dreams of living happily ever after with the prince in his castle in an enchanted land far, far away.

“You idiot,” she whispered. “The prince doesn’t want to marry you, he wants to kill you.”

She laughed softly at the ridiculousness of it. In a manner, the little girl had been promised to a prince of an enchanted land. However, Charish was unaware of that devastating detail.

“So I guess I can’t deny dreams don’t come true. Does that mean I should accept it?”

No. She wanted to ride away from the castle and forge a new story. Something that didn’t involve faeries.

“You okay in there, sweetie?” the vampire called from the other room.

Sweetie. Ugh. Why did men think it was okay to call women cutesy names when they didn’t even know them? She’d give him sweet.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she called over the patter of the shower. “Keep your pants on.”

“Oh, they’re on. But not for long.”

Lyric caught her forehead against her palm. Did he think she’d allow him to get close enough for some kind of rough play, as he’d implied? He wouldn’t get any information from her by raping her. He didn’t seem the type, though. She’d met rapists. Her family ran with a vicious lot.

Vail was scary looking, but not as mean as he wanted her to think he was. When he’d stroked a palm over his erection she’d caught the subtle quiver of his lower lip. He was not immune to the sensual tease. If she were to put the moves on him, she could wrap him around her little finger and toss him over a shoulder.

Lyric bolted upright. Now there was an idea. But could it work?

This smelly apartment was getting smaller the longer she had to sit in it, with him, and wait for the fence to call. Which would never happen. And she was hungry.

She would seduce a frog if it would help get her out of trouble.

Tugging out a soft jersey pullover dress from the packed duffel she’d planted in the apartment two days earlier, Lyric switched from the dark shirt and pants to the cozy red number that clung nicely to her semimoist skin. The shower had given her a nice steam bath. She put the red high heels on again, because Vail had definitely noticed them.

Slicking on some lip gloss, she pressed her lips together and nodded. The vampiress had a plan.

“And it will work.”

The vampire jumped from the counter and stood, legs spread at a cocky stance as Lyric approached.

He stood well over her six feet two inches, which was impressive, considering she wore heels. And his frame was tight and muscled like an athlete. His clothing was classic black leather pants, his black shirt shot through with silver threads, which dazzled as much as the silver studs and rivets embellishing his jacket in a menacing death-metal kind of look.

She stopped before him, red-pointed toes to steel-toed cowboy boots, and made a blatant show of looking him from his face, down over the tight shirt, which hugged his muscled chest like a lover, and then lower. Leather pants with buckles here and there scuffed down one thigh. No visible hard-on, but she intended to change that.

She guessed the dark appearance and wardrobe were not a fashion choice but a means to keep most at a distance. Though some vampires took the dark lord thing too seriously, a wise vampire blended in with mortals and did not stick out like a goth club kid.

She couldn’t see any faery dust on him now. Had it been a trick of the moonlight when he’d leaned over her earlier? Or maybe it was a fashion choice, and the dude was into glitter?

Clear whites in his eyes, and his deep blue irises held her as if he’d clutched her shoulders. His dark glamour appealed to her careful, pining heart. She’d always been attracted to the bad boy, and Charish and Leo had always been too protective. She’d tended to date family friends.

She wondered what this compelling man’s dark glamour tasted like? She wasn’t above biting fellow vampires. As long as she didn’t share the deep bite and sex at the same time. That was a bonding ritual she would only share with the one vampire she loved. The Prince Charming she counted on finding one of these days.

Vail smirked. A killer move. It tugged his mouth higher on the right, and revealed a sneak of white fang. The bad boy wanted some fun.

He grabbed her by the hips and pulled them hard against his groin where Lyric felt a buckle impress her flesh below her belly button.

“Well.” She skimmed her palms up the silken weave of his shirt, her fingers touching his skin at the base of his neck. He was cool. Most vampires were warm thanks to frequent infusions of blood. They must both be hungry, she figured. “I guess I gave you time to come up with a plan, eh? Seduce the girl and get her to talk?”

Always make them believe they are the ones in control, and the ones with a plan. Seduction 101.

He dipped his head and landed a hard, firm kiss on her mouth. It was so unexpected that Lyric could only accept it, breathing in his breath, tinted with mint. Men did not take a kiss from her. The ice princess always kept them at arm’s length. And she would prove it by …

Well, maybe a little longer. No sense in stopping what felt so good. Bad boys took what they wanted. She was willing to experience what she had always desired.

Too quickly, he broke the unsettling yet sigh-worthy contact. “Seduction tastes pretty good to me.”

“Me, too.”

Without thought, she returned his kiss but remembered she was playing a role. Get smart, Lyric. Or you’ll never ditch this guy. This kiss must be the money play.

Lyric nudged open his mouth with her tongue and traced his clean, white teeth. Strong hands at her hips crushed her against him. His hard-on, thick and long, lay diagonally against her hip. Encouraging his arousal, she rubbed her hip against his erection and ran one hand down his back to press him even closer.

He moved deep within her, tasting her mouth, teeth and tongue, giving her the urgent intensity of contact she gave him. It was as if they were starving and had found sustenance in an enemy masked by desire.

Thinking of satisfying her blood hunger brought down her fangs. Amidst the crush of their mouths, Lyric’s fang pricked her lower lip. She pulled from the kiss, wiped a finger over the blood, and then traced it along the inner side of Vail’s lower lip.

He pushed her away, and she stumbled awkwardly to land against the wall, arms dumbly slapping it. “What the hell?”

Vail sucked at his lip and spit her blood onto the floor. “This isn’t going to work.”

“Seriously?” She followed his pace toward the window. “I get that we were both screwing with each other right now. But you … spit out my blood? I thought you were vampire?”

He spun on her, his overwhelming height shadowing the moon framed in the window. “I am.”

Lyric touched the flesh beside his eye. “No, you’re not. This isn’t club glitter. You said you were familiar with Faery? You really are a dust freak.”