Inferno (2 page)

And they hadn’t even touched.

That would soon be remedied.

“She’s a fine looking woman, but beware my friend,” Duncan said in a low voice, “she is not what she seems.”

Dante nodded, his gaze glued on the woman as she approached. “I know what she is.”

“But do you know why? Why would such a creature seek you out?” Dante shrugged. “Probably for no good reason, though I find it hard to resist the puzzle she presents.”

“Just be certain this puzzle doesn’t get you staked out in the desert at dawn.” Duncan laughed as he moved off, two women already in his sights. “I’ll be near if you need backup.” She didn’t realize he would be so handsome. Of course bloodletters were said to have a Glamour all their own. She didn’t think she was close enough to feel his magical influence, but she didn’t have any personal experience with his kind. Their powers were said to grow with the centuries, and Dante was an old one.

There was something about the tall man at his side too. Something that gave Megan the heebie geebies. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what the deal was with him. He wasn’t a bloodsucker. His scent was different but very, very magical. Not human entirely, yet not anything else she recognized. She would have to tread carefully—very carefully—until she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

Still, the ball was in play now. She’d have to see it through and play the game she’d planned.

Just this one last task, and she’d finally be free of the meddlesome
Altor Custodis
. She would do just about anything to clear her family debt of honor, but she had to be careful. This Dante fellow was more than likely the deadliest being she’d ever meet.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked up to him and shifted her weight to one foot, letting the opposite hip jut out toward him provocatively. Dante was certainly a tall drink of water, almost a foot taller than her own five foot four. Of course, she was petite for a wolf shifter. She was only half
were
by blood.

She didn’t speak, just looked him over and let him look in return. She saw the flare of interest in his eyes before he banked it to something less obvious. She was close enough to scent his magic though well protected—she hoped—against his vampire mojo by her shifter nature. Still, he certainly did have an effect and she had to admit—mojo or not, this man was potent with a capital P.

“Do you like playing with fire, little one?”

His voice wafted over her like dark silk, caressing her pelt in the most sensuous way. She had to suppress a shiver of pleasure at the tone and timbre.

She struggled for nonchalance. “I know what you are.”

“And still you came to me? You’re a brave little shifter. Does your pack know what you’re up to?”

“I have no pack. I’m a loner.” Her chin rose defiantly.

“Ah, a lone wolf out on the prowl.” He made the words mocking. She squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “You are a foolhardy youngster, out to test her limits.”

“No doubt I’m younger than you but by no means a child.” She thrust out her chest and was glad to see his gaze snagged by the motion. “I’m curious, I’ll admit. I’ve heard your kind has certain abilities for pleasure.”

Dante leaned back, studying her from under hooded eyes. He was a seducer of the senses in every word, every motion. It would be hard not to fall under his spell—magical or not.

Everything female in her wanted to be with this male, regardless of his species or his power.

He watched her, seeming to come to some kind of decision. “My name is Dante.” She laughed. “Playing with fire indeed. I get the literary reference,
Dante
.” She grinned at him.

“My name is Megan.”

“Well then, Megan, can I buy you a drink?” He ushered her toward the bar where two chairs opened up for them as if by magic.

She knew darn well he’d used his influence over mortals to make the others move. It was a casual show of power that scared her. Without the protection of her shifter blood, would she be as powerless against him as other mortals? And how could she be certain she was protected?

Would she even know if she was being influenced by his vampiric powers?

It was a worrisome thought. This man was more than she’d been led to believe. She could tell from the few minutes she’d been in his presence. And his friend was troublesome too. What
was
he? Megan feared she’d suddenly been thrust into the deep end of the pool with no warning, and she’d have to learn to swim. Fast.

“So what brings you here tonight?” Dante asked, turning back to her after ordering wine for them.

“Just on the prowl.”

“Ah.” He nodded knowingly. “Something your kind enjoys, from what I hear.”

“How do you know what we enjoy?” She tried her best not to sound suspicious but feared some of her wariness showed through.

He leaned back as the bartender returned with their wine. “Contrary to popular thought, I actually do have some friends among the
were
tribes.” He kept his voice low so that only she could hear him. Her hearing was better than any mortal’s and he definitely knew the scope of her abilities in that area at least, proving his shocking words might hold some truth.

“It thought your kind didn’t like
weres
.”

He sipped his wine before answering. “It’s not that we don’t like you. It’s more that we don’t like how resistant you are to our power. Bad blood in the past has made all the various supernaturals distrust each other over the centuries. Yet I have a feeling that will soon come to an end.”

She was shocked. “Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re a loner so you probably haven’t heard. There are certain bad elements returning after many generations. I was around the last time we fought them, and we all worked together. Seems to me we might have to do so again.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head in the negative. “Not here. No matter how good your hearing, there may be others listening as well. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you in private.”

“I want to know.” This was her chance. Even if he was leading her into some kind of weird vamp trap, she needed to get close to him. That was her mission and she wouldn’t shrink from it.

She was also curious about his hinted knowledge. She really was a lone wolf. She hadn’t had interaction with her own kind in a long time. If there was something going on in the supernatural world, she didn’t trust her contacts in the
Altor Custodis
to tell her. They were too damned secretive and their policy of non-interference went way too far in her opinion. She’d like to know what Dante thought he knew.

“All right then. Later.” He drained his glass of wine and set it on the bar. “For now, will you dance with me?”

She noted the sudden change from house music to a slower tempo that allowed couples to move close. His influence again? She had little doubt such was the case. Lowering her half-finished drink to the bar, she took his hand and felt an immediate awareness of him shoot through her skin. It tingled where they touched, sparking with magical energy. It didn’t hurt. It felt more like tiny bubbles popping against her skin. Almost tickling and definitely happy.

It was a strange, unexpected sensation. It was as if their bodies recognized each other.

He took her in his arms, and it was as if they’d been made to fit together. Their bodies moved in rhythm to the slower music, his strength countering hers in a way she’d never experienced. As a
were
wolf, Megan was stronger than most human males. As a lone wolf, she’d never really consorted with her kind. She’d never been this close to a vampire before and taken all together, she’d never felt so feminine or sheltered in any man’s embrace.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his strong body against her. For just a moment, she let thoughts of her mission and the debt of honor owed by her family fade from her mind. She let herself revel in the feel of him and the way his strength complemented her own.

And he was one hell of a dancer. She never danced much, but as a wolf-shifter, she had a certain amount of natural agility. She followed his lead with pleasure, liking the way he commanded her movements with a sureness she was unused to encountering in the human males she’d dated from time to time.

“You’re very good,” she whispered, trying to suppress the growl of pleasure that wanted to issue from her throat.

Dante laughed low, his breath whispering past her ear in a way that made her shiver. “So I’ve been told.”

“I meant you’re a good dancer.” She pulled back to meet his gaze, grinning in what she hoped was an inviting way. Banter was good. He was responding well to her flirting. So far, her mission was on track.

“Once upon a time a man’s status in life was judged on such things as how well he danced.” That comment took her aback. This man—this vampire—had lived for centuries. He must have seen and done a lot of things she could only dream of in those many years.

“You’re an old one then?” She had to play coy. He couldn’t know that she already knew his background—at least as much as the
Altor Custodis
file about him contained.

“Old enough to remember when the waltz was considered a scandalous dance. And now look at us.” He chuckled as his gaze roved down her body to where they brushed together intimately, only the fabric of their clothing separating them. “All in all, I think things have changed for the better. Still, there was something charming about those days.”

“It must have been beautiful.” She’d read her share of Jane Austin and dreamed of beautiful ball gowns twirling around the floor of some grand ballroom to the strains of a string quartet. It was a far cry from the pounding bass of this club’s sound system and the whirling neon lights.

“I see you’re a romantic at heart, young Megan.”

She shrugged, noting the way his gaze fell to the upper swells of her breasts, visible in her low-cut blouse. Things were progressing according to plan. He seemed attracted. Of course, for all she knew, he was leading her on for his own amusement. She had no basis to judge her progress when it came to vampires, having never dealt directly with any before.

“I think I’m like most women. We all yearn for romance at some point in our lives.”

“Ah, but shifter women yearn for their one true love. Their mate. Do they not?”

“I’ve heard that your kind do the same. Is it true that most of you search for centuries until you find that special One?”

Dante’s eyes grew dark as he held her gaze. “It is true, though most are unaware of our plight.

How do you know about it?”

“My mother knew one of your kind in her day. Pretty much all I know about your kind comes from her.” She’d almost blown it. At least her excuse was mostly true. Her mother
had
had dealings with a vampire once upon a time and had told Megan about it. It was also true Megan’s meager knowledge had been duly supplemented by her keeper at the
Altor Custodis
.

“Do you know his name? This one that your mother knew?”

“What makes you think it was a male?” She gave him a saucy look, hoping to get back to the flirtatious banter they’d been sharing before she misstepped big time.

“All right then, who was it? There are few unmated females among us, you know.”

“Her name was Esmeralda de Young, though she was going by Mira when my mother knew her. She was a healer of sorts, and my mother sought her help when I was still a pup.”

“Ah.” Dante pulled her in close once more, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I know Esmay has always had a soft spot for strays. I guess you come from a line of loners, eh?” Mutely, she nodded against his chest and felt his muscles relax just a fraction as her story reassured him. It was the truth after all, just not the full truth. For a flicker of a second, she felt bad about lying to him. Then she remembered her family and realized she had to stand firm against the vampire’s allure. She had a mission to complete and her family honor depended on it.

“Is it true you’d get a rush if I let you drink from me?” She hadn’t meant to ask that question. It just slipped out, something that had been preying on her mind.

He looked at her strangely for a moment, then nodded. “
Were
blood is more magical than human. Only mage blood can match it and there’s only one thing more powerful.”

“What’s that?”

“My blood.”

Duncan joined them on the dance floor, grinding against Megan’s backside as Dante dominated her front. She’d jumped when Duncan snuck up on her, but recovered well. All in all, Dante was quickly becoming fascinated by the lone wolf pup.

She turned in the small space they allowed her, to face Duncan.

“And exactly what are you? You’re not all human, yet you’re nothing I’ve ever sniffed before.”

“Good nose.” Duncan bent down to kiss the tip of her nose, and Dante felt himself repressing a growl. That surprised him enough to make him back off a bit and let things unfold. Duncan undoubtedly knew what he was doing. Or so Dante hoped.

She pulled away, clearly uncomfortable with the way Duncan had just invaded her personal space, though they were dancing scandalously close to begin with. Dante supposed dancing the bump and grind was accepted behavior these days, while kissing without prior contact was still something a little unexpected.

“So what are you?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, my dear. Suffice to say, I’m older and more magical than either of you, so you’d both best behave.” He winked and left her with a smile, seeking his mortal female companions elsewhere on the dance floor.

Dante pulled her back against him with an arm around her middle and they danced like that for a while, his aching cock pillowed by a round, tight ass that made his mouth water. Before he could get too carried away, she turned again in his arms to face him.

“Did your friend just warn me off?” Her expression was one of disbelief.

Dante smiled. “I think he was warning both of us. He’s become my keeper in a way. A thorn in my side, though we’ve been friends for centuries. I’ll be glad when things return to normal.”

“And when will that be?”