The Dark Vampire: Last True Vampire 3 (10 page)

Read The Dark Vampire: Last True Vampire 3 Online

Authors: Kate Baxter

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Angels

BOOK: The Dark Vampire: Last True Vampire 3
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Jenner’s temper flared.
Insufferable female.
He bared his fangs as he met her gaze. “Would you care to test me?” He plucked at the thin fabric of her leggings. He could tear them as easily as rending paper. “I don’t even have to take these off of you to get to what I want.”

Bria’s jaw took a stubborn set. “Do your worst, Jenner. I’m not worried.”

He pushed himself off of her in a flash. His heart hammered in his rib cage, his breath heaved in his chest, and
his cock was so gods-damned hard it caused him pain. She pushed Jenner to the very edge of his control and he held his balance just barely.

“Hide your treasure!” he barked from between gritted teeth. “And be quick about it, because I’m taking you back to Mikhail’s.”

Another heated word from Bria and he’d do every vile thing he’d promised her and more. He needed to get away from her. Before he did something he’d surely regret.

CHAPTER
7

“You’ve got to be
one of the
un
luckiest bastards I’ve ever met, Whalen.”

Christian should have known better than to use a bookie who was also a demon. Supernatural henchmen were a hell of a lot tougher to shake than human thugs. Not to mention more violent. Cars on the street below resembled Matchbox toys as he dangled over them. They wouldn’t seem so small when his dome crashed through one of the hoods, though.

“I’ve had a kink in my back for a month,” Christian remarked. “Hanging upside down is doing wonders. I should have gotten a hold of you guys a long time ago.”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole.” Demons never did appreciate snark. “You’re thirty grand deep and Marac wants his money. No more excuses.”

Christian made a show of patting his pockets as he dangled from the high rise, held tight by the ankles. So clichéd. “You know, I think I left the cash in my other pants. Why don’t we go back to my room and check? Minibar’s stocked.”

One of
the henchmen let go of one of Christian’s ankles and his heart lodged somewhere in his esophagus. Supernatural resilience aside, he doubted he’d survive a fall from thirty stories. “I can get it to you by the end of next week.” He had ten grand on an MMA fight scheduled for next week and it was a sure thing. Payout was five-to-one and he’d be flush.

“If Marac’s gotta wait that long, it’ll be forty grand.”

Of course it would. Fucking bastard
. “Fine. Forty grand. By the end of next week.”

The demon still holding Christian’s ankle hauled him up as though he weighed nothing more than a bag of sugar and deposited him on the asphalt roof. He stumbled as all of the blood drained from his brain and he tried to stand. His head pounded like a motherfucker and his vision blurred as his world righted itself.

“If you don’t have Marac’s money the next time we come to find your sorry ass, you can bet we won’t be dangling you off of a building, Whalen.”

No. The next time, they’d take their payment in blood.

“I’ll have it.” Christian dusted off his slacks and straightened the cuffs of his shirt. “Tell Marac not to get his shorts in a wad.”

“Don’t think about leaving town, either, asshole. Because we’ll find your sorry ass.”

Before he could respond, the pair of demons evaporated in a cloud of sulfuric smoke.
Creepy sons of bitches
. Christian listed to the side, his equilibrium still off, as he left the hotel roof and ventured back to his room on the fifteenth floor. McAlister and the Sortiari’s bottomless expense account was footing the bill for the spacious suite, but Christian wasn’t sure how long it would be before the director threw him out on his ass. There was always another job in another city. The Sortiari had their hands in everything. He didn’t mind bouncing around; it kept loan
sharks and bookies off his back. He wouldn’t be able to dodge the demon, though. Christian’s blood was on the money he’d put down on the Blackhawks’ play-off game against Pittsburgh. Demons could find anyone, anywhere if they had your blood.

Fuck.

Gregor had gone to McAlister like he’d promised, which had put some cash in Christian’s pocket. Not enough to get himself out of the hole he’d dug, though. The berserkers had yet to come to an agreement with the Sortiari, and for that reason McAlister kept Christian in the city. Rat bastard demon bookies aside, Christian didn’t mind his extended stay in Los Angeles. Especially since his new favorite pastime had become stalking a certain sexy dhampir.

Siobhan.

Even her name exuded sex. He hadn’t wasted any time learning as much as he could about the feral dhampir. Christian was obsessed with the female beyond her relationship with the vampire he’d been tracking. He didn’t need to keep tabs on either of them anymore. Not since he’d managed to find Gregor. Still, Christian went out night after night, making the rounds at clubs he knew she frequented in the hopes of getting a glimpse of her. Neither of them even pretended to be unaware of the other anymore. It was a game. Cat and mouse. Christian the voyeur and Siobhan the exhibitionist, ready to perform for him.

The tension that sparked between them only made him want her more.

When he got to his room Christian searched his pocket for the key card.
Motherfucker
. The damn thing was in the room. Through the door his cell phone rang, and he knocked his head against the heavy door. What a monumentally fucked-up night. He’d be damned if he let it go completely to shit, though. He needed a night off. From
his life, his debts, his gods-damned obligations. When the Sortiari paid your bills, however, there wasn’t such a thing as a day off. He’d have to get a new key from the front desk so he could grab his phone. Then he’d go looking for a little distraction.

Onyx had just started to heat up for the night. The laid-back atmosphere of the club, a preferred hangout for supernaturals, put Christian at ease. No pretense, no hiding. No humans. Christian bellied up to the bar and ordered a bourbon, straight up. Until he scraped together the cash to pay Marac off, the top-shelf liquor was off-limits. He sipped from the glass and wrinkled his nose. This piss wasn’t going to go down very smooth, but it’d sure as hell get him drunk.

Christian had swallowed down his third drink of the night when the scent of jasmine hit his nostrils. He spun in his seat, his eyes darting from one end of the club to the other. Through the press of bodies he spotted her, living, breathing sin wrapped in black leather and green satin. The miniskirt hugging the curves of her ass was damn near indecent. He hadn’t seen her in anything like that before. Siobhan usually opted for a pair of tight pants, and though they covered her shapely legs, they were no less revealing. She’d never struck him as a miniskirt sort of female, but Christian approved.

Their eyes locked and a sly smile curved her bright red lips. She’d brought an entourage with her tonight. Several dhampirs whom Christian often saw her with—probably members of her coven. He checked for any sign of the big-ass vampire who’d been tailing her.
Huh.
The scary bastard was nowhere to be seen. Christian’s lip stretched in a sneer, however, as his gaze lit on a male who never seemed to be far from Siobhan’s side. He suspected that the dhampir who was stuck to her like glue was more than
a casual acquaintance. Christian’s wolf rose to the surface of his psyche, itching for a fight. The females didn’t belong to them, though. Their relationship with Siobhan was strictly look, but don’t touch.

Christian ordered another drink and settled his back against the bar. They’d been playing this game for a while now. He suspected that she went out night after night simply to be seen. Not that he minded. Watching the dhampir had become more fun than a trip to the racetrack. He didn’t even lose any money in the process.

Her emerald green eyes met his and Christian did nothing to avert his gaze. Her tongue played with the tip of one dainty fang and he swallowed down the groan that rose in his throat. She never drank when she went out. Didn’t snort anything or pop pills. She never let her guard down. Siobhan was always in control. Everything she did appeared carefully calculated. Christian wanted to be the one who tipped her over the edge of that control. To be the first to show her how perfect abandon could be.

Siobhan pulled the male close and Christian’s gut twisted like a damned pretzel. Her eyes stayed glued to his as she hopped up on a high stool and spread her legs, giving Christian a fleeting glimpse of her black lace underwear before the dhampir settled between her thighs. She got off on being watched, and for now Christian was more than happy to give her what she wanted.

She swept the length of her dark hair aside and the male lowered his mouth to the junction between her shoulder and neck. When the male bit down, Christian swore he could feel her flesh give way under his own teeth. His wolf surged to the surface once more with a predatory growl. The dhampir lingered at Siobhan’s vein for far too long, and when he pulled away bright crimson stained her creamy porcelain flesh. Christian’s nostrils flared. The scent of her blood carried to him. Drinking blood wasn’t
exactly his thing, but if she asked him to he’d bury his canines into that flawless, soft skin.

Her lids became hooded as the male reached between her legs and Christian locked his body down even though it wanted to shoot up off the stool. She didn’t close her eyes, didn’t look away. Jealousy burned through Christian’s veins as he watched that fucker fondle her for anyone to see. Her lips parted and her head rolled back on one shoulder as she took her pleasure. All the while, her eyes never left Christian’s.

She was playing with him. Taunting him. And he didn’t like it one fucking bit.

Oh, who in the hell are you kidding? She’s got you right where she wants you and you
love
it.

He was mesmerized by the sight of her. Cheeks flushed with passion, irises rimmed with silver. Her luscious mouth, parted and inviting. A sensual smile curved Siobhan’s lips, revealing the sharp points of her fangs. She reached up and pulled the male’s shirt to one side. Her tongue flicked out at his skin and Christian sucked in a sharp breath. His cock was as hard as marble in his jeans, and when she bit down and sealed her mouth over the male’s neck he thought he’d come just from the sight of her.

She fed from the male in a soft, languorous way that lent a sensuality to the act. Christian downed his bourbon and slammed the glass back down on the bar before scrubbing a palm over his face. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. Her lids fluttered and her hand came around to grip the back of the male’s neck. Christian noted the way her body grew taut and the slight tremor that rocked her body. The male might have given her the orgasm, but she’d come for Christian alone.

Gods, her sway over him was more powerful than the moon’s.

His wolf snarled and scratched in Christian’s mind,
enraged that another male would claim something that belonged to them.
Dumb fucking animal
. His wolf had laid claim to something that abso-fucking-lutely did
not
belong to them. Nothing good would come of this—

Christian’s cell buzzed in his pocket and he almost said a silent prayer of thanks for whoever had the shitty timing to interrupt his enjoyment of Siobhan’s performance. He dug the phone out of his pocket and glanced down at the text message:
Meet me at Rock and Reilly’s in West Hollywood
.
Twenty minutes. Come alone and don’t be late. —Gregor

Yup. Shitty timing.
But Christian needed to get the hell out of there before he did something he’d regret.

The trendy Irish pub seemed a little boisterous for the brooding berserker. At any rate, Christian might get a Guinness out of the deal. He slid down from the bar stool and headed for the exit, amazed he could walk considering the wood he was sporting. From the corner of his eye he caught Siobhan watching him. Her dark brows drew down sharply over her eyes and her lips thinned. He should have ignored her. Put an end to whatever this was between them right then and there. But Christian had never had an ounce of gods-damned sense.

His eyes locked with hers and he mouthed the word
Magnificent.
Her expression softened and her lips parted, the only outward show that she was pleased with his reaction. This would happen again. And again. The game would continue until he couldn’t bear to keep his distance any longer. What then? Whatever this was between them would play itself out or it would combust.

Either way, Christian was as good as fucked.

Siobhan was the ultimate gamble. And he was enough of an addict to know that once with her would never be enough.

CHAPTER
8

After
taking Bria back to the house, Jenner spent the remainder of his night in agony. His thirst blazed, his cock remained as stiff as a fucking steel rod, and his want of Bria intensified with every minute spent away from her. He left her in Claire’s care and wandered the club district. He hit Onyx, The Dragon’s Den, and Ultra in the hopes of finding a female whose body might tempt him away from Bria, whose blood tasted sweeter than hers. But all Jenner realized when the horizon showed the first signs of sunrise was that Bria had no equal. No other creature could compare. No other female had tethered his soul. No other had such absolute sway over him.

He wandered into Mikhail’s house and fell into bed in the room next to hers moments before the sun rose. The crisp, clean sheets on his bed smelled of fabric softener and not the scent he longed for. The perfume of Bria’s arousal in the face of his crudeness earlier in the night had burned itself into Jenner’s memory. And it only made him want her more. As the exhaustion of daytime sleep weighed him down he laid the flat of his palm on the wall
behind him in the hopes of feeling the gentle brush of her presence along his senses. The tether tugged at the center of his chest and Jenner let out a deep breath. That small reassurance was enough. For now.

Not even in the void of daytime sleep could Jenner find respite. Instead, he was plagued with dreams of Bria. Her sweet voice, glittering amethyst eyes, and full pink lips haunted him. In his dreams, she ran from him, always just outside his reach. Graceful, quick, her movements precise, Jenner watched in appreciation as she dodged a wide sweep of his arms before her giddy laughter rang out around him. His throat raged with dry fire. His body burned with want. In his dreams, he latched on to her throat, ripped open her vein, and glutted himself on the sweet nectar of her blood until Bria’s body went limp in his arms and the light left her glittering eyes.

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