Irresistible Nemesis (11 page)

“I need to taste you. Now.” Andreas lowered himself over her body, and pulled her panties down to her ankles before jerking them to the floor. He spread her thighs and positioned himself between them. The first taste of her sweet essence was pure ecstasy. It made him growl like a feral animal. She tasted like a mix of vanilla and jasmine. Sweet and sultry. Andreas licked and sucked along her folds as the scent of gardenias surrounded him. When finally, his tongue delved deep into her core, Eva screamed out loud.

“Oh God, please don’t stop.” Eva begged him, and he was happy to oblige. His tongue slid along her curves with lazy abandon.

In and out of her with sheer perfection. Then, his hand wandered of its own volition to pinch one cherry-red nipple protruding from her corset. The sensation so intense, it caused the muscles inside her womb to spasm against his tongue. Andreas could feel her orgasm spiral out of control, as her essence flooded his mouth to quench a thirst only Eva could satisfy.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to be inside of her.

If he didn’t fuck her this very instant, he’d most certainly combust. As he tried to unzip his pants, he heard a sound that seemed oddly out of place. Andreas sat up quickly in bed, and suddenly realized that the sound he’d heard was his cell phone ringing. He picked it up without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello. Eva, is that you?” he asked groggily.

“Andreas, it’s me, Natasha.” Andreas shook his head, shattering the fantasy. “You need to get over here right away.”

“Okay.” Andreas groaned, still half asleep. “Where are you?

What time is it?” His head of security cursed under her breath, clearly frustrated with him. “The sun just went down. It’s a little after five o’clock on Friday evening, and I’m waiting for you in your office, lover boy?” Natasha responded with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Andreas rubbed the kinks out of his stiff neck. He needed to wake up and clear away the cobwebs in his mind. He’d slept nearly twelve hours. Unbelievable.

“All right. Give me fifteen minutes.” Andreas jumped out of bed and snapped his phone shut. A moment later, the phone rang again. It was Natasha. Again. “What?” he yelled into the phone impatiently.

“No need to get testy.” Natasha warned him. “I thought you’d want to know that your father’s here, too. And he’s pissed!”
Chapter Twelve

Paying the Piper

It took mere minutes to get to his office inside
The Crypt
. But the journey seemed to last a lifetime. As he walked in, his father paced impatiently around the interior walls of his private office. The hairs on Andreas’s neck stood on edge.

“Well, well. You’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence.” Aristotle Kristopolous turned his head toward his son and growled out his frustration.

Andreas tried to remain calm, but his patience ran thin. “What is it, Father? I’ve had a long evening what with my testimony in front of the board of trustees last night. Excuse me, if I didn’t arrive right at sunset. But I’d think you’d be a bit more sympathetic, considering I was defending our coven’s honor until nearly four o’clock in the morning.” Andreas shoved his hands in his pockets, and forced himself to tone down the sarcasm as it would only infuriate Aristotle even more.

“I take it you haven’t seen today’s newspaper?” Natasha quirked her brow as if in question. The sympathy reflected in her bright green eyes seemed genuine. Well-aware of how brutal the patriarch could be when it came to protecting the family’s name and reputation, she had to see the coming confrontation.

“No, unfortunately, I haven’t. Natasha’s phone call woke me earlier.” Andreas paused as he rolled his shoulder back in anticipation of the next blow. “What’s happened? Has a verdict been released?

Were the details released to the press?”

“Natasha, would you mind giving us some privacy? This really is a family matter.” Clearly his father wasn’t prepared to trust anyone outside his inner circle.

“Of course, Mr. Kristopolous. Not a problem. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Natasha offered them a slight bow and headed to the door. On the outside, she came off as cool and collected; inside, she no doubt fumed. After he’d dealt her an embarrassing blow the other night at the MET, Andreas didn’t know how much more the woman could take. But Natasha was smart. She wouldn’t risk her career by throwing a hissy fit in front of the most powerful man in her universe.

Aristotle looked at his son and shrugged. “I hope I didn’t offend Natasha. I am simply not ready to divulge anything specific when I do not know if we can fully trust her.” Andreas nodded in agreement as his father handed him the newspaper. “The details of Mr. Olshanskey’s deportation have been released. The board of trustees ordered him back to Moscow, and he is being escorted there as we speak. But that is the least of our worries. Take a look at the front page of the
New York Times
.”

Andreas picked up the periodical and perused the headlines.

Kristopolous Family Implicated in Cover-Up of Staten Island
Woman’s Near Death.

He couldn’t believe what he’d read. How could his family possibly be accused of trying to cover up such a heinous act of violence? If anything, they should be praised in the papers for bringing the terrible incident to light. No wonder his father looked so furious.

“Who would have the audacity to leak something as damaging as this about our organization? Aren’t they afraid of the repercussions we inflict on our enemies?” It’s true that the Kristopolous family had a history of brutality and vengeance when it came to defending themselves against attack. Through the centuries, several groups of nomads and rogue vampires invaded their domain in an attempt to overthrow their regime in search of power and wealth. Each one of them met in battle by Aristotle Kristopolous and his army of well-trained assassins, ready to rip apart their enemies piece-by-bloody-piece.

During the Industrial Revolution, the family realized that in order to increase its influence over the changing landscape of the modern world, they needed to blend into their surroundings. Ripping out their enemies’ throats was not in their best interest any longer.

Appearances became more important than ever, and the Kristopolous name and reputation, reigned supreme.

“That’s what I am here to discover.” Aristotle turned to his son, a ferocious scowl plastered across his withered features.

“Whoever is responsible for this will surely learn a whole new meaning of the word “vengeance”.” The two men sat for more than an hour and brainstormed a list of possible suspects capable of such treachery. On that list, were the names of several individuals including the local mafia boss, the Russian Ambassador, and unfortunately, Natasha, among others. In addition to identifying the culprit, damage control jumped to the top of their list of priorities.

“I’ll give my contact at the
Daily News
a call as soon as we’re finished here.” Andreas put a hand on his father’s shoulder in reassurance. “She’ll jump at the chance to discredit a story printed in the
Times
. A retraction is almost certainly guaranteed by the end of the week.” Aristotle’s face was a mask. His thoughts incomprehensible as he stared back at his progeny with eyes glazed over. Andreas rubbed his sweaty palms against the rough material of his jeans, shredding any evidence of his overwrought anxiety. “What, Father? Tell me what you’re thinking, for Christ’s sake!”

“I know that I am old, but I’m not ignorant. I may not be the leader of this coven any longer, but my God boy, do you think I am blind?” Aristotle’s face contorted into something monstrous. “She broke into
my
home. Did you think I would not hear about your ministrations with the huntress? I have tried to stay out of your personal life, even when I did not agree with your choice in lovers.

But the fact that you have completely eliminated her and the people she works for from our list of suspects is quite disturbing. Son, you are playing a very dangerous game.”

Andreas suddenly felt like an eight-year-old boy, rather than a 150-year-old vampire. His father had a knack for making him appear inept. But when caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, it was hard to deny the raging sense of guilt eating away at him. He already knew he needed to end his obsession with Eva Sambucco.

Easier said than done. He couldn’t think of a single, valid excuse for his omitting Eva from his list of suspects. Something deep inside told Andreas to keep the sexy, troublemaking huntress close to him at all times. Was what he told Natasha true? Had he simply kept his enemy close at hand? Or had he begun to develop feelings for her?

It was time to come clean with his father. “The situation with Eva is rather complicated, Father. It’s true. I am inexplicably drawn to her. I can’t explain it.” Andreas confessed in a whisper, unable to look at his father. Then, with renewed confidence, he continued. “But I’m not stupid. I am very aware of the fact that she may be the person responsible for this fiasco. I guess I didn’t include her on the list because I didn’t want your minions to get to her first, jeopardizing my chances of putting an end to this game once and for all. Please, let me deal with her.”

Aristotle shook his head and ground his teeth. Until finally, he caved. “Fine. You have one week to kill her. But if she is not dead in seven days, both of you will face my wrath!” The patriarch seethed with unleashed fury rising to the surface. His fangs protruded, and his eyes glowed red. It was something so utterly uncommon for the elder Kristopolous, that it surprised them both.

“Furthermore, you will issue a press release today to
both
newspapers demanding an immediate retraction. Threaten to sue them for libel and defamation of character if so much as single derogatory word is published about our family in either periodical. I hope I have made myself clear.” Aristotle folded his hands across his frail body, making sure his words and body language delivered the same menacing message.

As usual, his father had the right idea. It was tough to admit, but true. After Andreas contacted his publicist to get the ball rolling on the press release, he went down to the bar. He needed a drink before he confronted Eva with his suspicions. He stepped behind the bar on the second floor and poured himself a double shot of Grey Goose straight up. Then gulped it down in two sips and poured himself another. About to shove the second glass down his throat, he saw Natasha head toward him.

“Hey, Tash.” Andreas greeted his head of security as she sat down in the barstool next to him. He tried to butter her up with the familiar term of endearment they shared during intimacy. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Man, he
really
didn’t want to have this conversation.

“How’d it go?” Natasha asked. “I knew it was going to be bad when I arrived this evening and saw your father seated in your office.” She didn’t bother asking specifics about Andreas’s conversation with his father. It went without saying. What had been said between the two males needed to stay confidential.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t trust anyone at the moment. Instead he fed Natasha information about the press release and the threat of possible legal action that would soon be common knowledge anyway.

“Any idea who may have leaked the story?” Natasha pressed him for more details. She wasn’t about to back down until her gave her something more substantial. Andreas felt compelled to admit the truth. He may have compromised the coven as a result of his relationship with Eva. Natasha already had it out for her, so what difference would it make?

“No need to scold me over it, too. I’m on my way to confront Eva.” Andreas lifted his glass in salute and swallowed the last drop of vodka.

“Well, there’s something you should see first.” Natasha let out an audible sigh as she pulled a manila folder out of her briefcase and slipped it under Andreas’s arm. She patted him on the back in a comforting gesture, before she returned to her other duties.

Andreas chugged down another drink. The alcohol burned his esophagus as it went down. Otherwise, he felt little else. Almost numb. Ready to do battle with his favorite BPA agent. Still, it wasn’t a good idea for Andreas to drive himself to the classic Victorian-style mansion where Eva worked and lived. Instead, he persuaded Bobby, his trusty bartender, to serve as his chauffer. He hoped it wouldn’t end up being a suicide mission. After all, he’d frolicked with the enemy.

Now, he had to pay the price for his sins.

Andreas sat in the passenger seat and flipped open the folder Natasha had given him. Inside were two pieces of paper. One was an email addressed to the editor of the
New York Time
s and the other one had been sent to the
New York Daily News
. The sender’s name was also written clearly in the heading: [email protected]. For fuck’s sake!

Eva lounged comfortably on her queen-sized bed on a very rare day off from her slaying duties. Oliver had pretty much ordered her to take some much needed
R&R
. The smoothness of her tan, cotton jersey dress brushed against the slippery satin of her bedspread.

It caused the frock to ride up and expose her well-toned thighs. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror next to her bed. The dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and made her look beautiful and sexy. But she didn’t feel that way on the inside. After she read and reread the article printed on the front page of the
Times
, she literally felt sick to her stomach. It’s a good thing she was laying tummy-first, otherwise she would have already puked her guts out.

As she scanned over the same damn sentence for the umpteenth time, Eva suddenly heard a loud commotion nearby. She stood on her knees to look out the bedroom window and she saw the headlights of a car shining against the guard shack at the front entrance to BPA’s headquarters. It appeared as if two men were engaged in a heated argument, while another man sat in the driver seat of the car. Watching and waiting. Then one of the men involved in the discussion pushed past the other, headed towards the front door of the house. He came closer and Eva’s eyebrows shot up when she saw his red, glowing orbs shine in the dark. Vampire. Before she jumped off the bed to gather her weapons, his silhouette became clearer. Andreas.