Dark Cravings (15 page)

I sucked in a deep breath of damp air, thick with the stench
of demon-rotted flesh, blood, sweat, liquor and sex. Electricity danced over my
skin and my instincts were too overwhelmed to do much more than buzz. The
shadow inside me began a restless pacing. I got the impression that at any
moment my flesh would split open and my feral vampire would crawl out.

Micah caught my wrist and squeezed. “Breathe, or you’re
going to pass out.”

“You think?” At least my sarcasm wasn’t dulled. Small
victory.

The pulsing lights above sped to and fro, flashed blue, then
green, then back to blue. It matched the tempo of the creature wailing into the
mic and sent the thrashing crowd into discombobulated jerks. In comparison to
the outfits of the other women and men, some human, most not, my corset and
miniskirt were downright nun-like. Some were nude. Some wore dog collars,
studded bras or latex pants with conveniently cut-out holes for various extra
limbs, tails and the occasional protruding horn.

Micah pulled me through the teeming throng of partiers at a
brisk clip. Every time someone, or something, brushed up against me, I
flinched.

The moment we were through the crowd, I pulled Micah to a
stop. Standing behind him, I lifted to the tips of my toes to reach his ear and
my breasts pressed against the hard muscles of his back.

“How can you stand it in here?” I yelled into his ear.

He looked over his shoulder. Our noses bumped, brushed. Was
he going to kiss me again? Did I want him to? Hell, yes. The need to do more
than smudge my red lipstick was in his eyes.

“You get used to it. After a while you might actually learn
to like it. For me, being in here makes me feel alive.”

“Just how often do you come here? I mean, they don’t care
you’re a hunter?”

“They aren’t doing anything wrong, Ella, so why would they
be afraid? Most of them don’t even know what a hunter is. I don’t kill
indiscriminately, despite what you might think.”

Someone bumped into me from behind and got a nice feel of my
ass in the process. My body was dislodged from Micah’s and the moment between
us was broken. Without his touch, I was bombarded with all the sensations
around me.

“Let’s go.” He motioned me past the bar carved out of the
wall. Rocky shelves held hundreds of different shapes and sizes of liquor.
Three bartenders, dressed in identical black robes, glided back and forth,
serving drinks out of long, thin glasses.

All of the rooms we passed were stone, but the masonry was
the only connecting factor. One was lit with a red light and made everything
glow the color of blood. Gorgeous multihued rugs covered the hard ground, and
the twenty or so tables were packed with every kind of demon I could imagine.
What were they all doing here? It was like an entirely different world existed
in this place.

We passed a series of sitting rooms. Some had long leather
couches arranged in front of dark wooden coffee tables, others just housed
armchairs. One room had nothing but a blue light and a wading pool, which cast
the rippling reflection of water onto the grooved ceiling.

This place, despite the music and the demon vibe, was the
most incredible thing I’d ever seen. No one approached us, well, no one except
the idiot who’d brushed my ass, but it would have been impossible to ignore the
weighted gazes tracking our movement.

The tunnel we walked down opened into an anteroom. Sconces
lit the bricked walls, and instead of the orange-and-red fire I was accustomed
to, these flames danced purple and blue. Beneath my feet, my books sank into a
plush animal-skin rug. The pelt looked a little like a buffalo and I realized I
stood an inch from a beady black eye. The eye rolled back and forth with
awareness. I stepped off it with a shudder.

The man standing in front of the simple wooden door before
us looked bored—until he spotted Micah. The vibration that came off this guy
was different. He was human, but…not. I stared at the riot of golden corkscrew
curls spilling over the breadth of his massive shoulders. His skin was golden
and shimmered with sweat. Come to Mama.

Although the obnoxious screams of the singer in the main
room must have been half a mile away now, the noise was still surprisingly
loud. And still just as insufferable. When Micah spoke, he had to shout.

“Dante!” Micah’s grin was one I’d never seen on his face
before, not even with Eli. The smile was friendly, full of mischief and would
have been boyish if Micah’s eyes weren’t dancing with darkness. “Castro? He
busy?”

Dante ignored Micah and looked at me with narrowed golden
eyes. They reminded me of a cat. Dante traced his gaze over my tattoo and
settled on my exposed cleavage. He swiped a broad pink tongue along his lower
lip.

“Hey, asshole,” I said and snapped my fingers in front of
his face. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

Micah slid a possessive hand around my waist in a slow
caress that gave me goose bumps. He pulled me close, nuzzled my neck. His long
fingers settled over my hip and I imagined he was giving Dante the evil eye
over my shoulder.

“So, this is your little ball of claws. She is smaller than
I expected.” Dante’s eyes were alight with dark humor. I wasn’t amused.

“I’m not his anything.”

“Ouch.” Dante put a palm three times the size of mine over
his heart. “She does have quite a mouth on her.”

“Enough,” Micah said. “Is Castro in?”

“Nope. He had to take care of some business. There’s a lot
of talk around town about you two.”

“Fuck.” Micah ran a hand through his hair, gave it a little
tug of frustration. “Will he be back tonight?” Dante grinned.

“Nope.”

“Tell him I stopped by and that I need to talk to him.”

Micah stalked off and I knew he expected me to toddle along
behind him. Fat chance. I crossed my arms under my breasts, which was a
mistake, because they almost fell out. The way Dante’s gaze zeroed in, he was
thinking the same thing. God, I hated this outfit. I uncrossed my arms and
awkwardly leaned against the wall to glare at Dante. He wasn’t a demon. He wasn’t
human.

“What are you?”

Dante’s smile widened and showed his extra sharp, elongated
canines. “I could ask you the same thing, little vampire.”

“It seems you already know what I am.”

He appeared to consider me for a moment before he nodded. “I’m
a shape shifter.”

I felt my eyes go wide. “No shit?”

I’d read about skin walkers, shape shifters, whatever, but
never actually seen one in person. No wonder the energy pumping from him was
off the charts. When I began to wonder what his blood might taste like, I took
a step back and felt disgusted.

“Don’t look so impressed,” Micah said from right behind me. “He’s
a great big pussy.”

I’d been so consumed I hadn’t even heard Micah’s approach.
His voice made me jump. Dante threw his head back and laughed. Roared, really.

“If you ever get tired of this guy and want to know what a
real predator is like in bed, you know where to find me.” Dante’s voice still
rumbled with laughter.

“Not on your life, asshole,” Micah grumbled and pushed me
out of the alcove and into the main corridor.

The moment we were out of earshot, Micah pulled me to a
stop. “Was that necessary?”

Someone’s panties were in a bunch.

“What? I didn’t do anything. Geez, when the hell did you get
so possessive? Why don’t you just pee on me and get it over with.”

A muscle twitched in Micah’s jaw. “You bring out the worst
in me. I can’t handle this. I thought I could.” He glared at me. “If another
guy eye-fucks your tits, I’m gonna go ballistic.”

My mouth dropped open. I stared at him. Was he serious?

I shoved a finger into his chest. “This outfit was your
idea, not mine.”

The blue-green hues of his eyes became molten. There was a
fire in his gaze that was going to burn me if I wasn’t careful.

“It was either take you with me or leave you at home.”

A low-level throb beat in my head. His words stung. A lot. “So
that whole trust line was bullshit? Fuck you, Micah.”

I turned to walk away, but he caught my arm. He scraped his
hand through his hair. “Damn it, Ella. The thought of leaving you behind… Well,
it appears we’re stuck together for the time being. If you haven’t noticed, I
like this place, like these people. This is my world. You would have come in
here knives-a-throwin’ if given half the chance.”

“So this is why you dressed me as your personal slut?” God,
now I was pissed.

Micah’s voice dropped and the anger between us began to
morph, became something confusing and familiar. “Hannah picked out that outfit,
not me. But now that you mention it, is that what you are?” he asked. “My personal
slut?”

On his lips, the word was dirty, sexy. The air grew heavy. “Is
that what you want me to be?” What I really wanted to ask him was,
Is that
all you want me to be?

He gently touched my neck over the bite he’d left there and
down to my collar. He fingered the crimson marks on the exposed slope of my
breast. I had the most powerful urge to rub against him. Didn’t my stupid
hormones know I was mad at him?

“Maybe,” he said.

I wasn’t ready for this conversation. The truth was, I wasn’t
ready to lose him. So much had changed, but through it, somehow, Micah had
become my constant. What kind of fucked-up universe was I in?

I looked up at him, toyed with the collar of his sweater. He
relaxed into me and made a move to run his lips along my cheek. I waited until
that last moment. He was close enough that the moisture from his breath
dampened my skin.

With a hand on either shoulder, I shoved him away.

“Too bad for you, I’m not anyone’s slut.”

Laughter shook Micah’s chest and a reluctant smile with a
hint of admiration shone on his face. He was too damned handsome for his own
good.

“God, you’re a bitch.” The way he said it, I heard
goddess
.

“You bet your ass I am.”

I think we made some progress.

Micah led me to a semi-private room with an arched-stone
entryway. We stepped inside and I looked up at the reverse pyramid ceiling,
which peaked in a point at least twenty feet in the air. Hanging from two
rustic wooden beams, amber teardrop lights gave off a soft, golden glow. Where
there might have been windows, rusted bars filled the stone notches, reminding
me of a prison cell.

The space had a different energy from the other rooms we’d
passed. It was calm here, the atmosphere strangely serene. Aside from the small
wooden bar nestled into a shadowed alcove, there were half a dozen small tables
and an oversized, brown leather sofa.

As gracefully as I could in this damn skirt, I slid onto a
barstool and did a little side-to-side swivel. Smooth. Quiet. Micah took the
seat next to me and made a come-hither motion to the robed figure across the
room.

“What does Dante shift into?” I ran a hand over the polished
bar.

“He turns into a six-hundred-pound lion, and when he does,
you don’t want to be around.”

I gave a little laugh. “I get it now. Pussy.”

“He’s not too bad, runs a bit hot, sucks at poker, but he’s
got a good sense of humor.”

“Is that how you know everyone here, playing poker? What
about the Shadow Agency? I thought you hated demons.”

Micah gave me a sad smile. “You thought a lot of things. As
I said earlier, I kill those who need to be put down. The demons here aren’t
evil, they just want to live in peace.”

I waited for him to elaborate. Instead he changed the
subject. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Are we on a date now?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Micah tapped a rhythmic beat on the counter. “Depends. Do
you fuck on the first date?”

“I might. That is, if my date wasn’t an egotistical ass who
thought women’s panties should fall at his feet at the word ‘fuck’.”

He seemed to mull that one over for a minute. “Okay, not a
date.”

A tall, paunchy human sauntered over and gave Micah a nod.
The only thing I could see of him was his face. What I saw was downright
cheery. The man’s cheeks were ruddy, and he had a mop of orange curls that the
robe’s hood didn’t hide.

“Hey, Joe,” Micah said.

“Been a long time. Boss has been asking after you,” Joe said
in the Irish lilt I’d been expecting. It was quite charming.

“So I heard. I’ll take my usual.”

“And for the lass?”

Micah looked at me for a moment. “A Flaming Sunrise.”

“I hardly think getting drunk is going to help our
situation.” I didn’t drink. Ever. Liquor dulled the senses too much.

“You wanted a frame of reference. I’m giving you one,” Micah
said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out. Aside from my contact, who isn’t here,
this is the second reason I brought you here.”

“That sounds very ominous.”

When Joe chuckled, it was from his belly, which through the
robes, looked a little rotund. “She’s just an itty-bitty thing. Are you sure
she can handle the Flaming Sunrise? Perhaps a nice mixer would do her right.”

I had no idea what in the hell a Flaming Sunrise was, but I
wasn’t about to back down from the obvious challenge. I stiffened my back and sat
up a little straighter.

“I can hold my liquor.” Maybe.

Micah pointed a thumb at me. “See? She can hold her liquor.”

Joe began pulling out square brown bottles, too thick to see
through. I could barely make out the sluggish liquid sloshing back and forth
inside. My interest was piqued. Joe never looked down as he juggled cups and
shot glasses.

“So, what you been up to?” Joe asked.

“Oh this and that. Got attacked by a succubus. Almost died.
That was really the highlight of my week.”

Joe grinned and it took me a few seconds to realize there
were too many teeth crammed into his mouth. “I heard about that.” He gave a
little laugh and started setting glasses in front of me.

I looked at the six shots Joe lined up. What had I gotten
myself into? They ranged in color from purple to pink and then ended with a splash
of orange. It looked like a sunrise. I didn’t get the flaming part, though.

“You aren’t going to light these on fire or anything, are
you?” I asked.

Joe smiled and put a short, stout glass of amber liquid in
front of Micah.

“I’ll start you a tab,” Joe said and went back to the table
he’d been at when we arrived.

I looked at the glasses. “You don’t expect me to drink all
of these, do you?”

Leaning closer, I put my nose to the first purple concoction
and inhaled. My fangs pulsed and I jerked back in alarm. Blood. There was blood
in there. From a safer distance, I sniffed the others and nearly got dizzy at
the bouquet of scents.

“What the hell is that?” I snapped, pointing to my Flaming
Sunrise.

“I’ve been thinking about what the witch said, about my blood.
I haven’t been able to think of anything else.” His gaze moved up my legs. “Well,
almost nothing else.”

“Micah.” I wanted to tell him he couldn’t be a demon, but
the truth was, he could be.

He misunderstood my hesitation. “No, don’t. Hear me out. I trust
you to tell me the truth, no bullshit. The succubus fucked with me, I can feel
it. What we did in that hotel room…” Micah paused, took a deep breath. “The
things I did to you… I liked them. That isn’t normal. When you walked out of
the hospital, it felt like a part of my soul was being cut from me.” He cupped
my cheek, used the pad of his thumb to caress my lower lip. “It wasn’t until
you walked into my apartment that I felt human again. I have to know what this
darkness is inside me.”

Well, hell. “I’ll taste the drinks, but Micah, I don’t think
we should assume the succubus did something to you. You want me to be straight
with you? I’ll be straight. I’ve seen the darkness in your eyes since I met
you. I call it your predator. When it comes out, it draws mine out too. I don’t
really know what that means.”

Micah rolled his glass back and forth between his hands. “Damn
it. I know. Let’s see how this goes.” He pointed to my drinks. “And then we’ll
go from there. If I’m a demon, then Richard had to have known, right? Why would
he raise me? Look, let’s forget it for now and see about getting you drunk.”

“If your mom had an affair and got pregnant, she could have
played it off as Richard’s baby.”

I looked at the shots in front of me, gave my best put-upon
sigh. “How does this work?”

Micah pointed to the first drink, which was a dark, swirling
purple.

“This here is your average diabetic blood, mixed with vodka.”

“How do you know this?”

“The Flaming Sunrise is Castro’s pride and joy. He loves
this crap and I’ve watched him partake more than a few times.”

“Castro is a vampire?” I asked, surprised.

“Hell, no. He despises bloodsuckers.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why did he create a drink for
them?”

“Vampires aren’t the only demons who enjoy blood, darlin’.”

“Okay fine, explain the rest, so I know what I’m getting
myself into.”

As he spoke, he pointed to each drink. The second concoction
was magenta, the next was still pink, but lighter. The fourth started to shift
in to the dawn with a pure white, the fifth had the first hues of yellow and
the last was a bright, shimmering orange.

“We’ve got male, AB negative, then female, also AB negative.
The white is demon blood, the yellow is vampire and the orange is shape
shifter. Each drink is infused with vodka.”

I was having a hard time absorbing it. “How in the hell does
this Castro guy get the blood?”

Micah shrugged. “Supply and demand. He pays for it.”

“I guess if I can’t find a job, I can come down and donate?”
The fact I was no longer a hunter hadn’t yet fully sank in.

“Drink.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I mumbled and
grabbed the first chilled drink before throwing it back.

My eyes snapped open and my cheeks sucked in at the
puckering sweetness of the vodka and blood combination. Diabetic, he’d said.
The alcohol and blood separated as soon as it hit my tongue. The blood was
sweet, overly so, but it made the sting of the liquor nonexistent. I smacked my
lips, tried to decide if I liked it or not.

“Well?” He was staring at me and I saw intense curiosity
there.

A part of me was afraid he’d think I was disgusting or that
he’d give me a hard time about the blood.

“It’s sweet,” I said cautiously.

Micah pushed the second drink in front of me. Before I could
lose my nerve, I settled my lips around the rim and upended the glass. My eyes
closed, my throat burned. This had a more subtle taste, but I could definitely
pick out the male element. The blood was spicy, but not nearly as potent as
Micah’s had been.

“A hint of spice.”

I wasn’t a drinker. Despite my brave words of handling my
liquor, I felt the buzz almost instantly. Maybe it was the blood, most likely
it was the vodka. A warm languor settled through me. I felt relaxed. Happy. I
grinned.

“Not already,” he groaned and moved his head close to mine.

I leaned into him, wanting to feel the warmth of his breath
in my ear when he spoke.

“You said you could hold your liquor. It’s been five minutes
and you still have four more to go.”

“I’ve never really drank before, so I didn’t know.”

“Never really drank?” Micah closed his eyes and pushed the
next one in front of me. “This was a bad idea,” he mumbled.

The third drink went down much more smoothly. There was a
different texture to it, but it was definitely there. Female.

“Floral.”

Micah nodded.

When I reached for the next drink, I found it harder than it
should have been to get the signal from my brain to my fingers. I knocked the
glass with the back of my hand. Micah caught it before it tipped.

“Can you hold on to this, or do I need to put it to your
lips?”

Heat exploded inside my stomach. My sex clenched, became
slick. I knew he was talking about the drink, but all I could think about was
the velvet-soft tip of his cock rubbing back and forth across my mouth.

“Oh no.” Micah shook his head. “Don’t even start with the
bedroom eyes. I’m not gonna last one second if you start looking at me like
that.”

“How do I look at you?”

“Hungry.”

I’m not sure why I did it, maybe it was the liquor, maybe I
just wanted to pay him back for the corset. I picked up the shot, the one with
demon blood in it. With my gaze locked on Micah, I let my tongue slide
suggestively along the rim of the glass.

Micah’s lids lowered and his breathing came a little
quicker. He never looked away from my face, from my tongue. I took the shot,
let the chilled substance quell some of the heat inside.

The blood was thicker, pungent. It was on the verge of being
sour, but carried a muskiness, reminding me of the smell of whiskey I’d snuck
from my father’s locked drawer once.

“Musky, more pungent than the rest.”

Micah pulled me off my stool and into the V of his thighs. I
teetered, felt the rush to my head. It was sensational. He flicked his tongue along
my lower lip and traced the flesh much as I’d done with the glass. I moaned and
leaned into him.

I slid my hands up the smooth surface of his silk-covered
chest. Beneath my palm, his heart raced. Blood. He touched his to the point of
my extended fang and I was shocked at the instant clenching in my pussy.

Micah stroked the sharp tip, scraped his tongue along it.
The taste of his blood overwhelmed me Spicy, pungent, thick with life and lust.
Human. Male. Demon. I sucked him into my mouth, deepening the kiss until my
breasts were tight against his chest. He gripped my ass and pulled me closer
still.

Gasping, I broke the kiss and panted.

Micah looked deep into my eyes and asked the question he
already knew the answer to. “So, what am I?”

“Human. Male. Demon.”

When Micah tried to stand, to push me away, I used my
leverage and shoved him back into his seat. He opened his mouth to protest, to
push me away with words this time. I didn’t let him. Before he could speak, I
closed my mouth over his.