Dead Vampires Don't Date (16 page)

It was Ash's turn to groan.

His pulse pounded at the base of his neck. I leaned upwards and licked it. His skin hot and rough under my tongue. I saw then that his scars continued down his neck and over his shoulder to the edge of his tattoo.

The urge to protect him, heal him, ward off whoever had done this, pressed into me.

Ash made his own choices. Forged his own path. I knew this.

I settled for pressing my lips over one of the thick, raised scars. He jerked under me as if a cattle prod had seared him. I tightened my grip on his shoulders, opened my mouth and slowly licked his damaged skin.

"Kate." He choked out my name. I don't think he had allowed anyone to touch him there since the injury had occurred.

I followed each ridge, every pucker. I licked. I kissed. I covered him with my wonder, my desire, my need.

As if it was all too much for him, Ash lifted me higher until my legs straddled his stomach. He moved forward, his movements rolling his body under me, pressing in, then away. I dug my fingers into him. The tension in my womb clenching and ratcheting tighter and tighter by the second.

The door to my office slammed shut behind us. He laid me on top of the desk in my humans only office. There were no windows inside this office.

"Do you have other clothes here?"

He didn't wait for my answer. He ripped my blouse down the middle. Instinctively, I crossed my arms over my chest. I'm not small by any means. Even lying down, my stomach curves outward. I can count the individual muscles on Ash's body, he's that ripped. Compared to him . . .

"Don't." He caught my wrists, tugging my hands down, exposing my body. His eyes flared. The heat and intensity reassured me. I relaxed slightly.

Ash pulled my arms over my head. He reached under me to tug the tattered material of my shirt upwards. Thinking he wanted it gone, I arched my shoulders to help him. When my sleeves reached my wrists, he twisted the soft cotton until it formed a tight knot, binding my arms, leaving me helpless in front of him. To do with as he wanted.

Like I've said, I'm not opposed to kinky sex, I just haven't had much experience with it. This bordered on definitely kinky. Spirits help me, I melted.

Reality Ash was more skilled, more kinky, and more determined to have me his way than any fantasy I had conceived.

He flicked his hand. Sharp claws tipped his fingers. He slid the edge of one under the center seam of my support bra and sliced it open. He repeated the move along each strap, smoothing the material away, leaving nothing between my breasts and his gaze.

He moved closer, in between my legs dangling over the edge of the desk. He pushed one, then his other thick thigh in between mine, forcing my legs to spread to accommodate him. I arched up into him. I wanted to feel that incredible tingling heat again.

Ash set one large hand right on the wet juncture between my legs. I didn't expect that. His hand covered me from clit to ass. Big and heavy, his fingers pressed and squeezed. He set his thumb right on my clit and circled it, once, twice. The tough denim of my jeans added another layer of friction, almost too much. I forgot to breathe then I screamed his name. He moved his hand under me, arched me higher and slammed his hips into mine. The tension inside me rocketed to the breaking point.

Setting his hands on the desk alongside my waist, Ash lowered himself, pressing his hard body into mine until his mouth hovered inches above my waiting nipple. He glanced up at me. Flames flickered over his skin, over mine. His eyes glowed. Fierce amber burning in a molten forge.

"So beautiful. So soft." His gaze hardened. "Watch me, Kate." He opened his mouth over me. Greedy crimson fingers of hellfire flared out, encircling my breast. His tongue flicked over my nipple, hotter than any realm. Then he closed his mouth and sucked.

I shoved my shoulders into the desk, pushing up into him, his mouth, his thighs, his rock hard cock.

I had one moment to scream before I exploded.

22.
Afterwards.

Little ruby slippers danced through my head. Cheerful little voices sang, "Ding, dong the witch is dead. The wicked witch is dead."

As a young witch, I'd been afraid of that song until my mother assured me that I was a good little witch. The girls at my school were the wicked witches. It's been a favorite of mine ever since.

"Ding, dong . . ."

"Kate."

I sighed. Lovely, sparkly ruby slippers.

"Kate."

A big, rough hand smoothed back my hair. I frowned. Why was there a hand with my ruby slippers? A large hand. A male hand.

Warts, frogs and nasty spiders.

"Mmmm?" Hopefully, Ash would take that as a foggy, satisfied post-coital question. Not the-witch-passed-out kind.

It had been a long time, a sadly, very long time, since I'd been intimate with someone. I could not ever recall passing out before. I didn't like it. It smacked of too much vulnerability.

That and the fact that I came like a damn rocket hitting the fuel tank on top of the explosive bunker all from foreplay. Yes, foreplay with Ash, Demon Lord of Flaming Skin and Wicked Tongue, was more amazing than actual intercourse with anyone else.

It didn't change my situation. We hadn't had actual intercourse . . . I ran a quick hand down to my waist. Nope, my jeans still cinched my waist. I'd gotten off and I had no idea if Ash had or not.

This struck me as very bad form. And I'd passed out.

Warm, firm lips nibbled the corner of my mouth. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Did your spell keep you safe?"

Whew
. "I'm fine. No burns."

"You fainted."

Damn it. "I did not." I opened my eyes, narrowed them. Ash's face was about six inches away. His amber eyes glinted. I didn't see any evidence of fire on him. Did that mean he had come too? Maybe I wasn't the only one who'd exploded like an inexperienced teenager? Or maybe I'd been out for a really long time.

He brushed my lips with his. "Yes, you did." His tongue traced the seam of my lips, separated them, thrust inside. I curled my tongue around his. We dueled for a moment. His weight settled more heavily into me.

When he broke the kiss and moved back, small flames flickered over his cheekbones. The insecure teenager inside me relaxed. Reassured again.

"Maybe just for a moment." Begrudging yes, but also honest.

He stroked a thick finger over my cheek. One solitary flame jumped from him to me. That deliciously warm tingle danced over my skin, heating it, awakening it before it winked out. Ash smiled. Dominant, satisfied demon.

I wiggled slightly. He didn't seem to be as hard. Big? Yes. Tempered steel? No. Maybe he
had
come. Just how long had I been out?

"Ah." I closed my mouth. Neither question put me in a good light.

Ash dipped his head to the curve of my neck, his chest rubbed over mine. "Yes?" His lips parted, sampling my skin.

"Nothing."

"I want to stay."

I arched my throat to allow him better access. Definitely stay. I had barely touched him. All those yummy muscles to explore.

"I have to go."

I froze. He had to leave? He had plans? What about not wanting to leave me? He had said that right? Or had it been, he
should
have been there with me?

"You're leaving. Now?" He lifted his head.

"I have to." His eyes hardened. Something dark flashed through them.

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"I can't."

Bullshit. I may not have bared my soul to him, but I'd certainly bared my chest. In my book, that gave a witch some rights. And discovering the full truth behind his interest in me moved right back to the top of my list.

"You can't or you won't?" I don't know what the demona are like in Hell, but Ash moved off of me pretty damn quickly. He stood between my legs. His sculpted chest flexed.

My arms were still stretched over my head, wrists bound by my blouse. Ash's eyes heated as they ran over me. His shoulders lit up.

It didn't reassure me this time. He was leaving. I was tied up on my desk. He was big. Shoulders a mile wide, chest so built, sonnets could be written about his twelve pack alone.

My tag-less jeans are in the wash. I'd removed the obnoxious tag from this pair as well, but it didn't stop the waist from pinching. Just a little. My breasts are not cute and pert. They're large and they can't support themselves. Right now my upper stomach supported them.

And Ash was leaving.

"Untie me!" I brought my arms down, covering as much as I could. Sharp prickles attacked my shoulders and arms. Tears burned my eyes. From the pain. In my arms. Nothing else.

Ash moved to my side, his strong hands massaged my shoulders and arms. "I'm sorry. I forgot that . . ." He stroked, fingers kneading out the stiffness.

"Forgot what? That I'm . . ." I caught myself. I almost said mortal. I assumed he knew, but there was a possibility he didn't. We lived in two different realms. And I'd done enough vulnerable right now.

"Not as strong as you?" I continued, turning my head away.

"No." He cupped my jaw forcing me to turn, look at him. "That you're different from demona." I glared at him. "Softer." His thumb stroked my skin. "Beautiful." He threaded his fingers through my curls. "More."

He tightened his hold, lifted my head and kissed the hell out of me.

After several minutes he pulled back. My arms were wrapped around his neck. I couldn't remember him untying me. Fire surrounded us. For a moment, I almost let it matter.

"Don't go." I held my breath.

His eyes flared, the amber replaced with shimmering gold. Then they cooled and solidified into determination.

He stepped back. I crossed my arms.

It didn't matter. He was leaving.

"I have to go."

"You've said that." I tilted my chin. "Nothing is keeping you here. Go."

He didn't like that. The flames on his shoulders leapt higher, turned to red. His hands curled into tight fists.

I gathered my magic.

He took one step toward me, cupped my shoulders. "I'll be back." He lifted me up, kissed me hard. "This isn't over."

Words choked in my throat. I refused to let them out. I'd already asked him to stay.

It obviously didn't matter.

He set me down abruptly and walked away. I stood there, arms crossed over my chest, shreds of my blouse dangling from each wrists.

"Lock the door." A slam and then he was gone.

My eyes burned. I blinked rapidly.

Damn him.

23. Can't You Just Leave Me Alone?

Three hours later, I slammed my Spell Book down on the desk. So much for entrancement spells. The asterisk at the bottom of that long-ass spell clearly stated it wouldn't work on vampires. Or gargoyles. Or demons.

Not that I cared about demons.

The gargoyle bit was interesting.

The vampire part disturbed me.

If I couldn't entrance Ivan, maybe I could erase his memory? I flipped to the index at the back of the book. My protection spells were in place. Petey wasn't at
The Whipping Post
yet. I'd asked Tommy about his whereabouts the night the Prince died - casual Dominatrix to Sub chatting - but I'd forgotten to ask Petey if Tommy was in fact there that night. And I hadn't cast a truth spell while I questioned Tommy. Careless mistake on my part.

He left.

I slammed the book shut. Right on my hand. I yanked it out. Great, I didn't need Ash around to hurt me. I could handle that all by myself.

Utterly disgusted, I shook my head, trying to dislodge any and all thoughts of a certain demon. I'd changed my blouse, moved to my HC office and slammed the door on the human one. Sadly, my brain didn't have a convenient door to slam shut as well.

My plan had been to concentrate on
important
matters. Such as saving my own skin. My plan, along with most of me, refused to cooperate.

Like a broken hamster wheel, I rocked back and forth between any idea that could help save me from Ivan and/or find the true killer and Ash. After Ivan's last visit, I couldn't help but wonder if I would be safe even if I did find the murderer.

That vampire hated me.

And Ash . . . I didn't know how he felt about me.

I'd never experienced anything remotely close to the passion we'd shared. Maybe it was common in Hell. I didn't think so. I thought about the look in his eyes, the way his body reacted to my simplest touch. I think it was special for him too.

Still, he'd left.

No explanation. Just walked right out my door. He'd promised me he would be back. I hoped it was a promise. It could have been a threat.

He said I was
more
. I've never been more. I've always been less.

The letters on the Spell Book blurred. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Damn it
. I opened the book again and couldn't remember what page I'd been on. Back to the index. Page six hundred and thirty two.

I found the correct spell. Again it wouldn't work on vampires, gargoyles or demons. I know vampires have a built in resistance to certain magic spells directed at them. Morgan had divulged that little secret. Regardless, I'd had to try. She'd said not all magic spells, just certain ones. Apparently the important ones.

The gargoyle part more than likely had to do with them turning to stone during the day. I'm fairly certain reanimation dissolves magic. I'd planned to test that theory on a certain zombie. But he died. And, unfortunately, he'd stayed dead.

As for demons, I figure they're just plain too hardheaded.

All of these spells would work on a human, however. Including the ones for erasing things. Like possibly footprints, or trace evidence. Maybe Tommy had found himself a witch to help him out? Or Terry? That would explain a lot. It wouldn't help me catch the real killer though. I can fight magic with magic, but it takes time. I didn't have a lot of time left.

Which left me with killing Ivan myself.

I didn't have to look that up. I know you can kill a vampire by beheading them. I had no clue how I was going to manage that with Ivan. He was bigger, stronger and a heck of a lot meaner than myself.

I'm a nice witch. I've never killed anyone. Never wanted to. But if it came down to him or me, I sure as hell would try.

I jumped at the knock on my door. I'd done as Ash had said/demanded and locked it after he left. As if a lock could stop a vampire. Hopefully my protection spells would. Ivan was very old and the rules weren't always the same for the old ones. It was all I had at the moment though.

"Kate?" Morgan called. She knocked again.

I hurried to let her inside, dispensing with the protection spell for the door right before I opened it. A quick check of the clock on my wall informed me that more time had passed. She should have been here a good half an hour ago.

Morgan strode inside, red-hair looped in a complicated twist on top of her head. The pale line of her neck tense, collarbones clearly defined where they rose above the studded edge of her purple leather bustier. A black and silver pouch rode low on her stomach. She'd packed supplies of some sort. Violet, thigh-high boots laced with silver outlined her long legs.

Her entire body vibrated with restless energy.

"Did you find out anything?"

"This is bad."

We both spoke at the same time. I gestured for her to continue. Bad trumped anything right now.

"I stopped at
The Whipping Post
. It occurred to me that we hadn't verified anyone's times for the night the Prince had been killed."

I nodded. I still felt stupid, but at least I wasn't alone.

"Petey was there. He said Tommy had not been at the bar the night the Prince was killed. Tommy lied. He's also missing."

"What?"

"Nobody has seen him since we were there."

My heart leapt on a quick surge of hope. We had to find Tommy. Ivan could question him.
He'd
get the right answers. And maybe I'd get a chance to keep living.

Oh shit. Tommy. I looked at Morgan. It must have been in my eyes. She flicked a dismissive hand. Murderer or not, I winced on his behalf. It sucks the big one not to have your feelings returned.

"That's not the worst of it." She continued. "Ivan showed up after we left that night asking questions." I clenched my fists. "About you, Kate. Just you."

Spirits help me.

"He stopped by
Spike's
last night, doing the same thing." I whispered.

"We've got to find Tommy." I'm not sure which of us said it first. Tommy was all I had. We both knew it. Without him, I had nothing. No chance at all.

****

Morgan hit the end button on her phone. "No go. Petey doesn't have a contact number and he can't locate anyone who might have one for Tommy." She looked at the wall clock. "It's still early for the scene to start up at
The Whipping Post
. If we wait a couple more hours, we might have some luck then."

That would be a nice change. Luck had taken one look at the Prince and hightailed it out of my life. I'd be happy to throw the party of the century to welcome her back in.

A couple more hours? Surely I could survive that long.

Morgan's phone rang. "Yeah?" She frowned, half-turned away.

My heart skipped a beat. I could do this.

The glass rattled with the force of the knock.

I leapt to my feet. Ash? He'd returned already? Morgan held up a finger for me to wait as she spoke to her caller. I ignored her.

Why we were pretending that a lock might stop a vampire assassin, I didn't know. Well, for me and my ostrich bit, I understood. Morgan and Ash? Who knew?

Plus, I'd added in my protection spells . . . Which I'd forgotten to reset after Morgan had arrived. Shit. Her "this is bad statement" had thrown me totally off.

Besides a vampire assassin intent on murder would not bother to knock. I flung open the door. Bloody red eyes met mine.

Damn. Shit.
Fuck!

"
Aren't you going to invite me in?"

The son of a bitch planned to taunt me before he killed me? I gritted my teeth, searched for a nasty retort. I couldn't find one. Icy dread swallowed me whole. The only thing holding me up was my grip on the doorknob. My hand shook.

Ivan strolled through the door, his long, black coat fluttered behind him. I turned my head to follow him, the rest of my body refused to cooperate. And I couldn't seem to let go of the handle.

"I've been asking a few questions." He stopped, center of the room, turned towards me. It could have been my imagination, but his sword hilt appeared much bigger. The reflection of the light on it mesmerized me.

"It appears as though you've been asking questions too." He crossed his arms. "Laying the groundwork for your cover-up story?"

"What?" The question eked out, the barest whisper.

He drummed his fingers once over leather covered arms. I flinched. "I asked if you have been laying the groundwork down as part of your cover story for the Prince's murder?" He clicked a fang. "There is no point. You do not receive a trial for killing royalty. That is an instant death sentence."

Damn him.

"One that I enforce."

Damn him to hell.

I hadn't done
anything.
He didn't care. What were his words? He'd find his proof and then kill me. He'd be doing a
service
to the community.

"You have to have proof first." Morgan leaned in the doorway, pale shoulder casually propped on the frame. Several long curls had escaped her twist and cascaded lazily around her face and over her shoulders.

Ivan didn't bother to turn towards her. He had to have known she was here. "Morgan. I am not surprised to find you here." He smiled at me as he said, "Just a matter of time."

"Do you really believe that Kate could have killed Prince Xavier?" Morgan raised one hand to check on her manicure. She buffed one nail. "A mortal taking down an immortal?" She didn't look in my direction.

I squeezed the doorknob so tightly it squeaked.

Ivan curled his lip. "She's a half-breed." He flicked a dismissive hand. "Part witch. She could have drugged him."

Immortal witches are not highly thought of in the HC-community. They're considered very useful at times, but not highly regarded. Even if I were immortal, I'd still be bottom of the rung. "A half-breed has no morals."

Morgan slowly straightened in the door. "Kate is my friend."

Ivan spun on one heel, turning his back on me completely. He didn't consider either one of us a threat. Utter disdain dripped from his every word. "I am aware of that. There are a large number of immortals living in this area and yet you
choose
to consort with a half-breed."

Morgan shoved her shoulders back. A slight breeze ruffled her hair. "I pick my friends carefully."

Spirits, I loved that vamp.

"Wrongly, you mean."

Electricity sparked in the air. Morgan's loose curls rose up in an ever-widening circle around her. "I said carefully."

"A vampire befriending and
defending,
" Ivan let the last word roll slowly off his tongue, a mix of total disbelief and disgust, "A half-breed against charges of murder toward her own kind?"

I dropped my grip on the doorknob. I took a deliberate step forward. "Your beef is with me Ivan, not Morgan. She has nothing to do with this." Nausea lurched alarmingly in the pit of my stomach.

"Au contraire." Ivan spoke over his shoulder. "Your little vampire friend could have easily helped you kill the prince."

Ivan planned to kill me. He was just biding his time, gathering his "proof." No way would I allow him to destroy Morgan. I'd sign a full confession before I let him bring her down with me.

"Morgan has done nothing wrong." I took another step forward.

"But you have?" Ivan twisted, so he had both of us in his sight. His eyes glittered.

"Kate hasn't done anything except her job. You should be looking at someone in the immortal community and you know it." Morgan exploded. "The prince planned to out us.
No one
in the immortal community wants that."

"I have only her words as proof to that." Ivan shook his head slowly. "The words of a half-breed."

My nails bit into my palms. He just had to keep flinging that at me, didn't he? Right in my face, over and over and over again as if I had not heard it enough.

Ivan turned his head toward Morgan. "You should consider that Morgan." He held up his hand, wagged one white finger at her. "You will not receive any leniency, no matter your background. Once I have my proof, I can bring charges against you as well. No one will gainsay me. Consider this."

Morgan had helped me bury the body. I hadn't killed the prince, but she'd helped me get rid of the body. If Ivan somehow found that out . . . Oh hell.

What did he mean "her" background?

I blinked and Ivan's hand encircled my neck. His hard, narrow fingers tightened along my tendons. His palm pressed hard against my throat, pushing on my esophagus, cutting off my air.

"Did you really think that you would be able to live your life? A half-breed?" His cold lips brushed my ear as he spoke, a barely audible sound, a knife into my gut. "I could crush you right now." He squeezed. I gasped, the last bit of breath left my lungs. "You can't defend yourself against me. Against the smallest of attacks without help."