Chapter 16
Abby squeezed her eyes shut. Even then she could feel Dante hovering beside her like a vulture. She could sense his tension. His fierce determination.
He was expecting her to perform some sort of hocus-pocus. A joke, of course. She was as likely to sprout daisies out of her ears as she was to magically open some mystical door.
Still, she had to try something. As long as she carried the Phoenix, she would be hunted. And worse, Dante would be forced to protect her, even if it meant the end of his own existence.
So far, stupid luck had kept them alive. But sooner or later, they would come up against something he could not defeat. Then they both would be dead.
She wouldn’t let that happen.
Ignoring the feeling she was doing nothing but making an ass of herself, Abby sternly focused her thoughts. She had taken out a hellhound and had burned the zombie to a crisp. Granted, she hadn’t known what the hell she was doing, but there had to be something inside her that she could use.
Imagine the wall, she told herself. And in the middle of the wall a safe. A safe like the ones in the old movies she loved. A big, silver safe with a black combination lock and slender handle . . .
Thoroughly concentrating upon the image, she didn’t notice the faint buzzing in her ear. Not until the buzzing became a ringing. And then became a loud clap that sent her tumbling backward in shock.
Opening her eyes, she stared in wonder at the large safe now clearly visible in the wall and clearly open.
“Holy crap,” she breathed.
The words had barely tumbled from her lips when Dante was at her side to gently lift her to her feet.
“Are you hurt?”
She pressed a hand to her heart, which she realized was nearly pounding out of her chest.
“I’ll live. Is that the safe you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“What’s inside?”
“Books.”
She turned to regard him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? The woman leaves priceless Ming vases and Picassos lying about like they came off a sale rack at some discount store and she fills a hidden safe with musty old books?”
“They are spell books.”
“Are you sure?”
A raven brow arched. “I’m a vampire; I can sense power, but not actual magic. You tell me.”
She bit her lip before forcing herself to reach into the murky shadows and pluck out the handful of books.
She wasn’t sure what she expected. Ancient manuscripts wrapped in leather and gold. Rolled parchments with heavy seals. Bed knobs and broomsticks.
Anything but the library rejects she held in her hands.
“They look like regular old books to me.” She flipped open the top book only to sneeze as a cloud of dust filled the air. “Dirty old books.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a philistine?”
“A what?”
He chuckled softly. “Never mind, lover.”
Abby rubbed her nose as she shot Dante a puzzled glance. Once again she was rumpled and covered in dust while he stood there without a hair out of place.
Damn him.
“Will these help lead us to the witches?” she demanded.
“Is there anything hidden in the pages?”
“You mean like some sort of code?”
“Like telephone numbers or names or a map to a hidden coven?”
Well, duh. She busied herself with flipping through the pages to hide her blush. No one had ever accused her of being a budding genius, but she was not usually a total moron.
“No, no names or maps,” she muttered. “Just a bunch of really bad poetry. Good God, listen to this stuff—”
“Abby,” Dante abruptly interrupted. “I don’t think—”
“‘Circle of the sacred Chalice,
Turn your power to dark and malice.
Elements of earth and air,
Water and fire combine to share.
Hear our plea and know our cause . . . ’”
Abby was uncertain when the words began to burn like fire upon the page. Or to echo eerily through the air as she mouthed the strange spell. She only knew that a powerful compulsion had suddenly taken her in its clutches, and the world about her disappeared.
She couldn’t halt the words from flowing. Not even when a sharp, fierce pain began to pulse deep within her. It was like falling from a cliff. There was no halting until she hit the bottom.
Even if that bottom meant a jolting, bloody end.
She might have continued chanting for eternity if she had not suddenly been attacked from behind.
Given no warning, Abby found a pair of strong arms wrapped about her. She had time to grunt in confusion before she was being driven to the polished floor. Her head hit the boards with a sharp bang.
“Dammit.” She blinked away the stars shooting in front of her eyes before struggling to her knees. “Dante, you could have just tapped me on the shoulder . . .”
Her words trailed away as she realized that Dante wasn’t responsible for her near whiplash. Instead her gaze fell upon a strange woman crouched directly before her.
Oh yeah, definitely strange, she conceded.
Struggling through the fog that still clung to her brain, Abby studied the dark, slender woman.
She appeared human enough. Despite the exotic beauty of her long raven hair and perfectly crafted features, there was a smoldering vitality that seemed more mortal than immortal. And her hard muscles were the sort that belonged to a well-honed athlete rather than the fluid strength of a vampire.
Still, there was a barely tamed danger glowing in the slanted golden eyes and a tension in the coiled body that made her seem . . .
Deadly.
Covertly Abby cast a glance to the side, her heart faltering as she caught sight of Dante lying on the floor, his eyes closed.
Shit.
She didn’t know what the creature had done to Dante, but if she was strong enough to knock out a vampire, what chance did a puny mortal stand in overcoming the intruder?
Not a chance in hell.
Her only hope of saving Dante seemed to be in talking her way out of danger. A frightening prospect.
Ignoring the instinct to rush to Dante’s side, Abby sternly concentrated upon the woman before her. It had to be a good thing she hadn’t already finished what she started.
Didn’t it?
Careful to make no sudden movements, she sucked in a deep breath.
“Who are you?”
The golden eyes narrowed. “You must stop.”
“Stop? Stop what?”
“The spell. It is dangerous.”
Abby licked her dry lips, relieved to note that the wrenching pain that had been destroying her was starting to ease.
“Dangerous to whom?”
“Your mate, for one.”
Mate? It took a moment for Abby to figure out she was referring to Dante. Her eyes widened in horror as her gaze flew to the still-unconscious vampire.
“I did that?”
“The spell . . .” Without warning, the woman threw back her head and growled low in her throat. Abby stiffened as she watched the creature lift a hand to claw at her neck. Almost as if she was battling some unseen enemy.
Abby scooted forward with a frown, her hand reaching out. “Are you hurt?”
The woman hissed at her. She actually hissed. Just like a cat.
“Do not touch me.”
Abby’s hand wisely dropped, but her gaze remained upon the claw marks the woman had made on her neck.
“You’re bleeding.”
“They demand my return. I can’t . . .”
There was another growl, and then with a blur of motion, the creature was on her feet and bounding down the hall. She disappeared into the darkness before Abby could open her lips to call out.
Well, that was creepy.
For a moment Abby remained frozen in place. She had seen enough horror shows to know that just because a beastie had left the room didn’t mean it wasn’t still lurking in the shadows.
When nothing lunged out with a butcher knife or breathed fire from the doorway, she awkwardly crawled to lean over Dante’s horribly still body.
“Dante?” With great care she gently cradled his head in her lap, her hands frantically stroking his beautiful face. “Dante . . . Oh God, please wake up.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t so much as twitch for what seemed an eternity. She called, she pleaded, and she even prayed. Panic was rearing its ugly head when his lashes at last lifted to reveal dazed silver eyes.
“Abby?” His silken voice was oddly husky. “What happened?”
Ridiculously she felt tears trickle down her cheeks even as she laughed in relief.
She hadn’t killed him.
Thank the gods above.
“You’re asking me?” she rasped. “I haven’t had a clue what’s going on since this madness started. One minute you were at my side and the next you were on the floor.”
His brows drew together as he silently attempted to piece together his fractured thoughts.
“The spell,” he at last breathed. “It was ripping me apart.”
Abby grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get somewhere safe until I can recover my strength.”
Abby was all for that. Especially when that strange woman might pop out of the woodwork at any moment. A story for Dante when he wasn’t lying near death from her stupid attempt at abracadabra.
“Can you move?”
He closed his eyes to assess his injuries. “If you can help me to my feet.”
Abby bit her lip as she slipped a hand beneath his shoulder and helped him struggle upright. If Dante actually lowered his testosterone enough to ask for help, it had to be bad.
He swayed heavily against her, and Abby battled to keep him upright.
“We’ll never make it to the car,” she said. “We should call Viper.”
“No. If you can help me down to the basement, I can recover in my lair.”
Abby gave a blink of surprise as she automatically led him toward the nearby servant’s staircase.
“You have a lair?”
“Of course. A vampire needs more than tinted windows and a soft bed to feel comfortable.”
“Oh.” Abby felt incredibly stupid. Until this moment, she had never considered the fact that Dante had walked freely about the house during the day.
Reaching the stairs, she helped him grasp the railing and together they began the downward trek.
“Oh, what?” he demanded, his jaw locked to combat his obvious pain.
“I just realized that when I worked here, you were always awake during the day. The tinted windows protected you?”
He managed a strained smile. “As long as I didn’t stand directly in front of the window.”
Breathing hard, she pressed her hand to his chest to make sure he didn’t tumble forward.
“Aren’t vampires creatures of the night?”
“As a rule.”
“But you prefer the day?”
“Let us that I possessed an irresistible desire to alter my habits.”
Abby recalled their employer’s demanding nature. The woman had been a despot when it came to her own comfort.
“I suppose Selena demanded you be available for her?”
“Whatever her demands, Selena was never capable of forcing me to pander to her preference for day.” His tone was arrogant as he shot her a glance from the corner of his eye. “Only one woman has ever managed that, lover.”
Her eyes widened as a blush touched her cheeks. “Oh.”
Despite the odd weakness that still clutched at his body, Dante found a smile curving his lips as Abby helped him to the deep basement. He reached out to press the hidden lever to his lair.
He had always delighted in bringing a hint of color to Abby’s cheeks. For all she had endured in her life, and she had endured more than any woman should have to, she still managed to be enchantingly innocent.
The paneling swung inward to reveal the room he had called home since coming to Chicago. Switching on the light, he waited for Abby to step within before shutting the door and setting the invisible traps that should keep them safe for the moment.
“Don’t touch the door,” he warned Abby as he moved to the refrigerator and collected a bottle of blood. “I added a few surprises for anyone foolish enough to disturb me while I slept.”
Wisely Abby backed away from the heavy steel door. “What sort of surprises?”
“Enough electricity to halt your heart, a poisoned dart that will turn your insides to mush, a curse that will shrivel a man’s private jewels to—”
“Okay, that falls under the category of way too much information,” she interrupted before her eyes abruptly widened. “Good God. What if I had accidentally stumbled across this door? I would have been fried or mushed or shriveled.”
Taking a deep drink of the blood, Dante was relieved to find his strength swiftly returning. Whatever had happened to him at least was not permanent.
“Maybe mushed or fried.” He cast a pointed glance below her waist. “You don’t have the proper equipment to be shriveled.”
“I’m serious.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I could have been killed.”
His lips twitched. He wasn’t about to confess that he had been vividly aware of her presence in the house even during his deepest sleep. That there was not a step that she had taken that he hadn’t followed. She could not possibly have come near his lair without his awareness.
It smacked too closely of obsession.
“You were living with a powerful Chalice and a vampire, lover. My private door was the least of your concerns.”
Her lips twitched with grudging humor. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. Whatever happened seems to be fading.”
“Thank God.”
“Yes.”
There was a moment of silence before curiosity at last overcame good manners, and Abby was covertly casting glances about his secret lair.
Dante drained the last of the blood as he watched her expressive features.
The room had little in common with the pretentious mansion. Unlike Selena, he preferred the elegant to the gaudy. The bed was wide but built of plain mahogany with a gold and black comforter to match the carpeting. The furnishings were sturdy and the walls nearly hidden by the heavy shelves that were filled from floor to ceiling with his collection of rare books.
Giving a faint shake of her head, Abby moved to his desk to touch his state-of-the-art laptop and printer.
Dante polished off another bottle of blood, his lips twitching. “Is something the matter?”
“It’s not quite what I was expecting.”
“You were hoping for dusty skeletons and bats?”
She turned to face him with a faint smile. “It seems more fitting for a college professor than a dangerous vampire.”
Setting aside the bottle, Dante prowled toward the slender woman. “Are you implying that I’m dull?”
Sensing the sudden heat in the air, she eyed him warily. “Dante, we should be deciding what we are to do next.”
She was right, of course.
Once again his brilliant notion had led to nothing more than nearly getting them killed. And the witches remained as elusive as ever.
Even worse, he was now completely out of ideas as to how to trace the coven.
But his thoughts refused to remain focused on the problems at hand.
How many nights had he lain sleepless in that bed tormented with fantasies of Abby? How often had he battled against the ache to lure her to his side?
She may never have stepped foot in this lair, but her presence haunted every inch of it.
He continued forward, not halting until he had her firmly wrapped in his arms.
“You didn’t answer my question, lover. Do you find me dull?”
He felt her breath catch as the mystical blue eyes darkened with awareness.
“We shouldn’t become distracted,” she protested, although her hands were already smoothing up his chest to wrap about his neck.
“Too late.”
With one smooth motion, he scooped her off her feet and laid her in the center of the bed. The breath rushed from her lungs as he busily set about ridding her of the annoying clothes.
“Dante.”
Tossing aside her shoes and socks, his hands reached to remove the sheathed dagger and then returned to tug at the zipper of her pants.
“You don’t know how many nights you tormented me, lover.” The pants were swiftly jerked off her legs, and his attention turned to her shirt. “Watching you, smelling your scent, feeling your heat. It was truly enough to drive a vampire mad.”
A flush touched her cheeks as he removed her shirt and regarded her with a slumberous gaze. Bloody hell but she was a delectable morsel.
Spread upon the gold and black cover wearing nothing more than her lacy bra and thong, she would have made the most discerning vampire pant with need.
His lingering weakness was washed aside by a tidal wave of sheer blinding need.
Holding his gaze, Abby slowly smiled. “Good.”
Dante lifted his brows as he planted his hands on each side of her head and pressed his lower body against her.
“Good?”
Her hands skimmed up his arms and over his chest where she began tugging at the buttons of his shirt.
“You tormented me enough,” she explained.
His head lowered to nuzzle at the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Why didn’t you come to my bed?”
His shirt was roughly tugged off his body. “Do you think that I jump into bed with every vampire I meet?” she demanded.
The demon flared within him. “I think that any jumping of vampires you do from now on had better be with me.”
He leaned down to nip at her ear and was rewarded by a sharp shudder of longing that raced through Abby’s body.
His own body was already hard and aching as he kissed a path down her neck and struggled to rid himself of his remaining clothes. Then, using his fully extended fangs, he tugged aside the bra.
Abby caught her breath as his teeth grazed her delicate skin, and Dante choked back a groan.
“Bloody hell but I wish I could taste you,” he muttered as he sought her hardened nipple with his tongue.
Her fingers tunneled into his hair as she arched upward. “Taste? You mean suck my blood?”
“There is nothing more intimate than the mingling of blood,” he whispered. “And nothing more erotic.”
“This seems plenty erotic,” she moaned. “I’m not sure I could bear any more.”
Dante licked the underside of her breast as his hands slid over her smooth skin. Her heat seeped into his body, into his dead heart.
“You’d be surprised, lover,” he assured her as he settled more firmly between her legs. “We haven’t even begun to explore the possibilities.”
Her legs encircled his hips with blatant invitation. “You mean like whipping cream?”
“Whipping cream, strawberries . . . chains.”
“Chains? In your dreams, bud. I—” With a soft laugh, Dante surged into her damp heat. Pure sensation rippled through him as her fingernails sank into his shoulders and she gasped with pleasure. “Oh yes.”
“Oh yes,” he breathed as he lowered his head to kiss her with tender need.
Buried deep inside her, Dante paused to savor the feel of being so intimately bound together. It wouldn’t matter if they had an eternity to explore each other, he would never tire of this woman. Never have enough of her sweet heat.
He would never be close enough.
Opening her eyes at his hesitation, Abby regarded him with a searching gaze.
“Dante? Is something wrong?”
His lips touched her forehead. “Everything is perfect, my love,” he whispered, his hips thrusting deeper before slowly pulling out to thrust again. “You are perfect.”
Her legs tightened about his waist, her beautiful face flushed. “Hardly perfect.”
“Never argue with a vampire. We are always right.” A growl was wrenched from his throat as she lifted her hips and his cock sank to the heart of her. Bloody hell. He needed more. He needed to have her connected to him in a manner that would bind her forever. “Abby.”
She was panting as he steadily pumped himself into her. “Dante . . . can’t this conversation wait? It’s a little difficult to think right now.”
He traced her lips with his tongue. “I want to give you something.”
Her fingernails bit deeper, sending a thrill of pleasure through him. “What?”
“A gift.”
She moaned. “Now?”
“Now.”
“But—”
It was obvious she was swiftly climbing to a climax, and Dante slowed his pace.
“I want to give you my blood.”
Her eyes widened, the hint of distaste revealing that she had no idea just what an honor he had just offered her.
“I . . . um . . . That’s very nice, but I have to be honest and tell you that drinking blood rates pretty high on my ick meter.”
He smiled gently. “Abby, a vampire does not easily offer his blood to another. It is a rare symbol of trust since it gives power to the one who ingests it.”
“Power? Do you really think I need any more? I don’t seem to be able to control what I have.”
“Power over me.”
She stilled beneath him. “How?”
He brushed his lips over her cheeks and gently nipped at her swollen lips.
“You will be a part of me. You will feel my emotions, know my heart, and sense me wherever I may be.” He pulled back to peer deeply into her eyes. “Even if I am hidden deep within the ground to heal.”
It took her a long moment to realize the extent of his faith in her.
To be able to sense his every emotion, to know if he was lying, to be able to discover him even when he was at his most vulnerable . . .
Few vampires would ever offer such trust.
Not to anyone.
Seeming to at last sense the depth of his offer, Abby gave a small frown.
“Why? Why would you do this?”
“Because it is how a vampire chooses his mate,” he said without hesitation. “The woman he will love for all eternity.”
Her blue eyes softened with a tenderness that shimmered through his entire body.
“Oh, Dante.” Her hands moved to frame his face. “I would be honored to be your mate.”
Holding her gaze, Dante lifted his hand to his neck. Before she could protest, he used his nail to make a small incision. Only after he felt the precious blood begin to trickle down his skin did he cup the back of Abby’s head and press her mouth to the wound.
“Drink,” he commanded softly.
There was a moment of hesitation before he felt her lips part and gently suck at his life force.
Dante nearly jolted off the bed as his body clenched in raw, primitive bliss. Holy hell.
He had known what Abby would experience. With his blood in her veins, her senses would be sharper, clearer, brighter. The world itself would seem to come into crisp focus. And, of course, she would become aware of him in a way that mortals could not imagine.
But he had not realized the sheer erotic nature of allowing her to feed from him.
Passion and hunger flooded through him. An overwhelming need to brand her as his own.
His fingers tangled in her hair as he pressed her even closer. He felt as if he was being consumed and nothing had ever been so glorious.
With every tug of her lips, his hips began to thrust forward, his need growing to an unbearable ache. She moaned. He growled. They clutched at each other. They surged together.
And then the powers of the Phoenix within Abby began to smolder and flare, engulfing them in a sizzling cloak of heat.
Dante choked out a groan of shocked pleasure as he thrust himself to the very heart of her. Mist-red desire clouded about them, driving them ever upward, until with an explosive climax they combusted in flames together.