Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3) (4 page)

Obviously sensing her unease, he pulled his
shoulders back and offered her an easy smile.
Dieu,
and she
had thought him handsome before. Now he was impossibly gorgeous and
her heartbeat kicked up another notch.

“Pierre thought it was my phone, so he
answered.” He held out the device. “Avery and Ceara want to know
where you are and if you’re okay. I think that was the
message.”

When she didn’t move to take the phone, he
laid it on the end table. His gaze raked over her, then darted
toward the bathroom. “I’ll let you finish up.”

He backed out of the room so slowly she
wondered if he was moving in slow motion.

The second he closed the door behind him, she
rushed to her phone.

“Avery?”

“Where are you?” Avery practically screeched
the question.

“Are you all right?” Ceara asked, her voice
quiet as always.

“I am fine. I am in Germany, I think.” She
wasn’t really sure.

“What do you mean, you think?” Avery asked.
Izzy could almost imagine the look on her coven mate’s face. And
Ceara’s too, her big violet eyes wide with worry. “How can you not
know? Where’s the car, Izzy?”

Another good question. “I — ugh — I am not
sure.” Well, at least she was honest. That should earn her some
points, right?

“What do you mean you’re not sure? Izzy,
Valencia’s going to flip her lid.”

“I know this!” Izzy’s heart ached and her
eyes watered. Why had she not resisted the urge? What made her
think she would not get caught. Sadly, this was not the first time
her impulsiveness had bit her in the behind. Far from it. Would she
ever learn her lesson?

“Are you sure you’re okay, Izzy? Who was that
man that answered your phone?” Ceara asked.

Did they have to team up on her? She was
feeling miserable enough without playing twenty questions.

“I am okay.” Thanks to Shade. “That was
Pierre.”

“Please don’t tell me you picked up a man in
V’s car,” Avery said.

Avery was such a… what did Coco call her? A
rule follower.

“No. I did not.” She would not have done
that. It had been a… joyride. Yes. Nothing more.

“Is the sun up there?”

Izzy couldn’t be sure, not with the curtains
drawn. But she guessed that it was and told them so. “Well, as soon
as it’s dark, get back here. Put the Bugatti in the garage so
Renaldo can clean it. And we’ll keep this among ourselves.
Deal?”

Izzy was amazed that Avery would keep her
secret. Her eyes watered again.

“Deal,” Ceara said.

“Izzy? Deal?” Avery prodded.

“I —” Izzy licked her lips and sat down on
the edge of the couch. “I had an accident.”

The silence on the line was so long she
thought the call had dropped.

“Avery?”

“Sorry, Iz. I was just trying to figure out
what we should write on your tombstone. She saved you once, do you
really think she’ll do it again?”

“I feel bad enough without your harping.”
Izzy dropped her forehead against her hand.

“God, Iz. I’m sorry.”

“Can you make it home? Do you need us to come
get you?” Ceara asked. “I could send Maxim.”

Everyone in the mansion, including the new
girl, knew that Izzy could not
flash
worth a darn. They said
it was because she’d only been turned two years ago and was so
young. Izzy was not sure she believed them. Either way, she was
stuck here. Wherever here was. At least until nightfall.

“I-I do not know. I do not know if I am
coming home.” In the two years since Valencia had turned her,
saving her from the beyond, she had come to think of the mansion as
a home of sorts. But there was still something missing.

She was used to the feeling. She’d lived her
entire life feeling like something important, some part of her
existed just outside of her grasp. Hopefully one day she’d find
something more than contentment.

“Come on, Iz. It can’t be that bad.”

“It is worse. I am sure it is wrecked. How do
you say? Totalled.”

“How could you total — nevermind. It can be
fixed. Or replaced.”

“I have thought of this.” The fixing.
Replacing would bring a whole other set of problems she wasn’t
prepared for.

There was a long pause. They must all be
thinking the same thing. This was an expensive problem to fix.
Their monthly allowance did not cover million-dollar automobiles.
Certainly not multi-million-dollar luxury French automobiles.

“Well, the first step is to get you home.
We’ll take it from there.”

“I have a plan.” Why had she said that? She
had no plan. Not a solid one anyway. But it was her problem. She
had created it. It was up to her to fix it. She nodded to herself.
“I will win the money.”

“Win it?” Ceara asked.

“Yes. I am good at the cards. I will win
it.”

“Izzy — I don’t think —”

A knock at the door startled her.
“Mademoisselle?” The thick wood muffled Pierre’s voice.

Izzy relaxed. “Avery, Ceara. I must go. I
will call again soon.”

Avery argued but Izzy closed the phone.

“Yes?” she called.

“Shade said you have some wet clothes.” Izzy
frowned. How did he know that? “I could dry them, if you wish.”

Dry would be good. She glanced at the wet
garments, hanging from the towel bar in the bathroom, and then at
the solid wood door that led to the hall.

She’d let him dry her clothes. Then she would
take a short nap. Just enough to get her mind together so she could
finish devising her plan.

He was coming for her. Terror held her in
place but her mouth opened and the full sound of panic tore from
her lips.

“Izzy?”

She knew that voice.

She had to get away. Run. Do something. Fight
back. Hide. Create a scene. She would live if she just kept
screaming.

“Izzy!”

The sound of her name, not quite human but
not a roar either, jerked her from the dream. When she opened her
eyes, Shade was stalking toward her. His handsome face was carved
with concern. Hand over her heart, she struggled for calm.

“Are you okay?”

He squatted down in front of her, his gaze
searching hers. Despite the lingering unease from her dream, she
felt a trickle of relief. There was something about him… the longer
she studied him the more she found herself wanting to trust him.
Perhaps it was the earnest look, or his quiet-but-ready
strength.

“Fine.” She licked her lips and noticed how
his eyes tracked the movement.

“You were screaming. Bad dream?”

Her hands hurt. She must have been balling
them up into fists. It certainly wasn’t the first bad dream she’d
had lately.

Why was he staring at— He’d asked her a
question… She nodded. “I am sorry if I disturbed you.”

“Don’t be. I was just coming to check on you.
How are you feeling?”

What would it be like to be with a man so
big… protective… capable? Since the moment she had woken up in his
arms on the side of the road he had been taking charge, handling
things. But never had he made her feel like a victim. A lesser.
Helpless.

If anything, she felt… cherished.

“Tired.”
And hungry
. “I do not sleep
much.”

She closed her eyes to blot him out. She just
needed a little more rest, then she’d be ready to tackle her
problems.

“Izzy. Honey, look at me.”

He pressed something against her throat.
“Your heart is racing. When was the last time you had a good
meal?”

“Do not remember,” she murmured. But it was a
good question. Yesterday sometime, probably. Had it really only
been yesterday? She’d been out of the mansion half a day and her
whole life felt… changed.

“You didn’t take much in the car. You need to
drink.”

The couch dipped next to her. In the car? She
didn’t remember—what was he talking about?

She opened her eyes and started to ask him,
but he was reaching for her.

“Come here.”

Why was he so nice? Why—

She felt an arm circle her back. Another
curved beneath her knees. She blinked up at him as he settled her
in his lap.

“Drink.”

She had never gotten the hang of drinking…
from the source. They did not have anyone at the mansion on
tap.

“Izzy… drink.”

He did look like he’d taste good. Drawn to
his heat, she nuzzled his neck. Nice. So nice. So warm.

Her fangs pierced his skin before she made up
her mind to bite him. Blood filled her mouth, and he groaned. The
sound vibrated through him, through her lips. Delicious. Warm.
Rich.

Each sip replenished her. Her heartbeat
slowed and she no longer heard the pounding in her ears.
So
good
. Her vision cleared and the room slowed to a stop.

He tasted familiar. Like the most delicious
candy that had ever melted on her tongue. She would gladly rob the
candy shop to take her fill.

Her nipples beaded beneath the towel and she
became acutely aware of how naked she was underneath.

She tightened her grip around his neck. God,
how she needed this. Her energy was returning. Stronger. More
intense. She felt light and yet solid in a way she had never before
experienced. Like she could leap across valleys.

After retracting her fangs she licked the
wounds closed.
Oh. Wow.
What a drug. So rich. She pulled
back, studying the strong column of his throat. There wasn’t a hint
of a beard. When had he shaved? And why was she so turned on?

“Better?”

“Much.” She couldn’t lie. His blood was
potent. She wanted more.

“Good.”

She ran her fingers through the hair at the
nape of his neck. “What are you?” And why did his blood make her
feel so warm? So… gooey?

“I thought you’d already figured that out,
little vamp.” He tipped his head forward. Two small horns peeked
out from his long black hair.

Demon.

She smiled. Demons were fun. And sexy.

Is that right?

His voice filled her mind. Then he laughed.
Hearty. Pleased
. She liked the sound of it.

“Did you reassure your friends?”

Her friends. Oh, gosh. Why was she still
sitting on his lap? She scurried off him, clutching the towel
around her.

He leaned back on the couch and crossed his
arms across his massive chest. Dear God, he was built. Like a
nuclear power plant. She was pretty sure that his biceps were
bigger around than her thighs. But despite all that, he did not
seem threatening.

The opposite. He’d saved her… how many times?
She tallied the number up in her mind. Once, perhaps, when her car
crashed. Then from impending daylight. If he were to be believed,
she’d taken his blood in the car. And once now on the couch. Four.
Four times he’d saved her life.

Why?

Why had he asked for nothing in return?

“No need to be modest on my account.”

Izzy was not normally one for false modesty.
But there was something about him that she found… no. It was the
situation. It was unsettling. Like if she lost her head once, it
would be all over. She did not deny herself of many things.
Especially not drop-dead gorgeous demons. But this one… she
squinted, trying to put her finger on it. He was different.

If things were different, had she not wrecked
Valencia’s car, she would straddle his thighs and see where things
led. But things were not different. She needed to focus on repaying
her debt to Valencia.

Shade could see the confusion in her eyes.
She didn’t trust him. And why would she? They hardly knew each
other. And from everything he could tell about her, she kept
herself guarded.

Why then, did her body tremble against his?
Why had those sweet little sounds tumbled from her as she’d drunk
from him? Why did he scent her arousal? She wanted him, but she was
not willing to act on it.

He wouldn’t pressure her. No. When he took
her, she would be begging him for it.

He smiled to himself.

Yes. Begging
and
crying his name.

He sat forward on the couch, forearms braced
against his knees. Gently, he entered her mind again. She was a
flurry with plans. Desperate to make enough money to repair
Gorgeous.

Who named their car?

“So what’s this plan you’ve come up
with?”

She frowned for a split second. “Cards. I can
win it.”

Of all the answers he’d considered, that was
not on the list. “Cards? Like poker?”

She nodded.

“Are you any good?”

There was a long pause. She stared into his
eyes, confidence coming to her like a gossamer cloak. Then she gave
a single, succinct nod. “Yes.”

If that was the case, why had he never seen
her before? Well, she was young. And he’d been out of the hunt for
a while.

“You really think you can win two and a half
million dollars at the poker tables?” Hell, he’d been a
professional for ten years and the most he’d ever won in a single
event was twelve. She’d have to play high.

“Two and a half —”

He watched worry, anxiety, and disbelief
flash across her face. It was there in her eyes, the pinch of her
brow, the microscopic movements in the muscles around her seductive
mouth. But there was something else too. Regret maybe? Pain?

Then her lips flattened into a kissable line
and she pulled her shoulders down and back. Her chin came up and
her confidence came back.

“I have to.”

He liked her determination. She took
responsibility for her situation, and had come up with this
solution. Flawed as it was. He gave her a single nod to show her he
understood.

“Where will you go? Monte Carlo?” And why was
it on the tip of his tongue to tell her he’d be happy to take her
anywhere she wanted? Why did he feel so goddamn protective where
she was concerned?

Her icy-blue eyes focused on him. For a brief
second, he felt cold. Then hot. She licked her lips again.