Authors: Michele Hauf,Patti O'Shea,Sharon Ashwood,Lori Devoti
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #demons, #Vampires, #paranormal romance, #Werewolves, #anthology, #faeries, #Mermaids, #patti oshea, #michele hauf, #lori devoti, #sharon ashwood
Clenching his jaw, and closing his eyes, he
fought the mental desire to succumb. “You don’t need it,” he
growled. “You want it, but you don’t need it.”
Get out of
here
. He had to remove himself from temptation as he’d
done by swiftly exiting Bree’s home.
Rev fled into the night, and when the
darkness overwhelmed, his footsteps sped to a run. Run away from
temptation. It was all he could do.
The best way to avoid temptation?
Rev counted three-hundred-fifty as he
lifted his upper body from the workout bench. Sit-ups at a
forty-five degree incline always worked up a sweat and cleared his
thoughts. It was something he’d learned he couldn’t
not
do. If he skipped a workout, his
idle muscles would go wandering in search of a fix.
He needed this workout now to get her
from his brain. Sabrina Kriss. Her last name sounded too much
like
kiss
not to conjure
images of them kissing.
“
Kissing the faery,” he grunted as he
sat up for another excruciating hold. Feet tucked under a padded
bar, he kept his knees bent to increase the pull at his hamstrings.
“Idiot vampire.”
Dropping backward, he didn’t allow rest, and
strained to pull up his body weight again.
Sweating cleansed his pores of any latent
faery dust he might have rubbed into his skin while touching Bree.
He felt it on him, scurrying beneath his epidermis like
heat-seeking missiles.
Or was it merely the former addiction
tickling at his nerve endings, laughing as it waited for his next
fall?
“
Won’t happen.” He blew out. Abs
strained as he held the punishing crunch. “Can’t.”
Blowing out a lungful of air, he dropped and
slid off the bench. He paced the floor, working his muscles by
swinging his arms to ease his strained deltoids back and forth.
Twenty years ago he could have never
imagined this life for himself. But he was living it. And not
hating it. This crazy world tossed him something new every day. And
what it tossed at him was always paranormal or beyond mortal man’s
belief. Made the scientist in him cringe, and then titter with
glee. The dark denizens of imagination did exist. And faeries
fluttered—nix that. He’d never seen a faery fly, though a few years
ago he had once glimpsed a trio of faeries at a rave with wings
exposed. Knowing the dangers of dust, he’d not given them a second
glance then.
And when he’d been a freak for dust, he
couldn’t remember their faces let alone if they’d had their wings
out or not.
“
So why can’t I stay away from this
one little faery?”
After what he’d been through, Bree should be
the furthest thing from his thoughts. Was it that she had literally
gotten inside him? How to completely purge her?
“
Do I want to?”
No. Honestly, he wanted to pursue this
woman. Kiss her again. Find out for certain if the attraction was
heartfelt or merely a deadly tease.
“
Another fight last night?” Bree
chatted with her girlfriend Blu Masterson on the phone, the only
werewolf Bree truly loved and cared about. Blu told her about a
blood fight the werewolves had organized. Blu’s husband had been
too late to rescue the enslaved vampires, and both captives had
died during the match. “This has got to stop.”
“
I thought you were informing the
vampires?” Blu said.
“
I don’t know anything, Blu, all
right?" When she'd been working at the strip club, one of the
strippers had dated a wolf who worked the blood games. Bree could
not stand back and allow it to happen, so she'd begun informing.
"Just…don’t ask me anymore.”
“
Who has scared you, Bree?”
Friends always knew better.
“
No one," she lied. "And since when do
you work with the Rescue Project? Your hubby sic you on me since
the other guy doesn’t seem to be working?”
“
What other guy? I thought you’d told
me you made a break with the vampire you were informing
to.”
“
I did.”
The bastard Degas had threatened to hand her
over to the werewolves—or worse. And yet, had her abduction
something to do with Degas? She'd thought it merely idiot wolves
looking to torture the vampire with faery dust. She needed to learn
the truth. From Degas.
“
The Rescue Project sent a new vampire
after me. Someone I know.”
Suddenly she gasped and a teardrop plopped
onto her ankle.
“
Bree? What in heck?”
“
It’s him, Blu. The vamp I told you
about from that awful night in the sporting warehouse."
"The one you think is your Intended?"
"Yes. Rev Parker is his name. He’s been here
twice and I kissed him last night, and I can't stop thinking about
kissing him again, but I don’t want to hurt him.”
“
Whoa. Slow down, sweetie. The vampire
you let bite you is on your case now to continue informing? Wow.
You were really attracted to him.”
“
Are, not were. He’s amazing, Blu. So
sexy. And he’s got these intense dark eyes that focus directly on
me. It’s like he sees through me. It makes my wings
shiver."
"A reaction to him being the one for
you?"
"Yes. Maybe. Oh, Blu, when a sidhe finds her
Intended it should be exciting, not crazy fearful. The last guy I
ever expected to be the one for me is a vampire."
“
Hey, don’t knock
vampires.”
Blu, a werewolf, had been forced to marry a
vampire recently to bring together the werewolf and vampire
nations. She hadn’t expected to fall in love, but she had, and now
she and her husband Creed were closer than close.
Despite her tears, Bree smiled. “I'm not
knocking them. And you know I have nothing at all against vampires.
It's just…we are so wrong for each other.”
“
Did you tell Rev he's your
Intended?"
"Don't know how to. It's not like I'm the
best thing for him. If he doesn't know, then he won't feel
obligated toward me."
“
Oh, sweetie, I wonder if there's a
way you two could ever be together?"
"If we have sex and bond maybe that would
overwhelm the addiction."
"Then what's stopping you? Oh, wait. Sorry.
The fact your dust sends him into a dust freak stupor is stopping
you. Poor girl."
“
He’s cautious. We were making out,
and he stopped before it went too far. He’s like no man I’ve ever
known, Blu. The kindness in his eyes… But I see pain there, too. I
want to hold him and make it all better.”
“
You can’t always be the one to make
things better, Bree. Think about yourself. What’s best for
you?”
“
What’s best is some intimacy. I
haven’t had a man for months. Is it so wrong to crave affection? To
want to claim the one man put on this earth just for
me?”
“
Not at all. But you can date other
men. What happened to the three day sex rule?”
The rule they considered gospel between
girlfriends. One should never go longer than three days without
sex. It just wasn't right.
“
I know, I've been having a bit of a
dry spell lately. But, Blu, the bonding between a sidhe and their
Intended is supposed to be amazing. If we could get together as
lovers we'd never desire another. How can I not want that? If we
could have sex,” Bree suggested, teasing a strand of hair across
her lips, “then I think he’d move beyond the desire for
dust.”
“
You sure about that?”
“
No. Maybe. What better way to lead a
man from addiction than to offer him a greater high?”
“
Sounds possible. We do love to make
our men happy with sex. But be careful. And don’t forget my party
next weekend.”
“
Right. BYOB?”
“
Yep, that’s Bring Your Own Boy. And
if he’s a vampire then he’d better not be strung out on dust. Got
that?”
“
Got it. See you soon. And don’t
worry, I’ll be careful.” Bree hung up and sighed.
“Mostly.”
Life wasn’t worth the spin unless it was
dangerous. She knew what she was doing. Having some fun with a man
who made her wings curl. And if he decided to have sex with her,
then yes, baby, yes.
“
Do I need to put another agent on the
informant?” Creed Saint-Pierre stalked before Rev, fists to his
hips. The nine centuries-plus vampire wore his years well on his
face, and always wore Armani on his body. “We lost another man last
night during that damned blood match!”
“
I’m sorry, Saint-Pierre. I’ve made
contact with the informant. She’s…skittish.”
“
Fernando’s reports weren’t thorough.
He never did explain why she stopped talking to him. Who the hell
got to her?”
“
I’ll find out. Give me another day or
two. I’m getting closer to her.” But not the kind of close his
leader wanted to know about. “I will bring you results.”
“
You’d better.” Creed marched off,
leaving Rev to let himself out of the man’s estate.
With his capture, he’d almost become a
statistic himself. And to succumb to the dust? He’d kept those
months hidden from the tribe, claiming he’d needed time after his
imprisonment to recover, get his head on target. He'd wanted to be
in top form to help the Rescue Project.
In reality, Rev had been gorging himself on
mortal blood in an attempt to purge his system of dust. Hadn’t been
pretty. But he took heart in the fact he never killed mortals, and
never would.
Now he was more determined than ever to come
back strong and to prove himself. He was an asset to the Rescue
Project. He’d once worked tactical, charging into the fray with a
rescue team to extract the victims. He knew the interior workings
of the sporting warehouses. Now he needed to learn the warehouse
locations that moved constantly.
Bree was the only one who could help him
with that.
He followed her, keeping a half block
distance between them. She’d exited the Goddess strip club and was
walking home. She said she’d stopped working there after the
incident. Wonder what she’d been doing inside just now?
The faery carried herself with confidence,
and winked at the passing cars that slowed to give a cat call or
hoot at her. Mortal men wouldn’t know what hit them if they were to
indulge in her enchantments. Faery dust wasn’t as addictive to
mortals, but it could be wielded like a weapon to either enchant or
disenchant them. That vampires were so susceptible killed Rev.
Truly, he’d discovered his kryptonite.
And now he would have to face that sinister
delicacy if he wanted to prove himself to his tribe members.
She passed through the wooden gate
surrounding the parking grounds below her building. Moments later,
Rev passed through the gate and was slammed against the fence.
“
Why are you following me?” she said.
“Why not catch up and walk with me? We know each other. No reason
for the spy games.”
He lifted his palms, and she relented her
not-so-weak grasp about his collar. Faery glamour gave great
strength. “Tonight’s business, Bree, not pleasure.”
“
Oh.” She stepped back.
Clad in body-hugging white jersey, she
looked a winter princess crowned by pale tresses, and sparkled like
a century celebration cake. Club goers would suspect it was
store-bought glitter. Rev knew better.
“
You wanted honesty,” he said. He
nodded down the street where the pink neon flashed. “You still
working at the club?”
“
No. What’s it to you?”
“
Nothing. Something. It makes me want
to punch someone to imagine you taking off your clothes before a
crowd of leering men.”
“
Yeah?” She didn’t hide a small smile.
“I was visiting a girlfriend, helping with her routine. Only time I
do the naked now is in the privacy of my own home.”
“
I’d like to see that
sometime.”
“
It’s
okay for you to leer but not others?”
“
I wouldn’t leer, Bree. I’d—” Worship.
“Hell, I’m being rude.” He walked toward the stairs leading up to
her flat. “Can we talk?”
“
Business? Nope, nadda,
nein.”
“
We can either talk or I can rough you
up.”
Her jaw dropped.
“
I’m kidding. A little. Do you
consider kisses rough stuff?” He smiled, trying to rescue the
moment, and only failed a little.
The faery softened, grinning, and gesturing
he lead the way up. “I don’t know why I keep inviting you in but
I’m doing it again.”
Once inside she offered him blackberry tea,
which he politely refused. Bree plopped onto the bed, which was the
only furniture, save the bar stools. She sat cross-legged and
patted the bed for him to join her.
Rev remained standing, shoulders to the
brick wall. She wasn’t being suggestive, but sharing the huge
silk-covered bed with her was a no-man’s land he couldn't explore.
Not yet.
"Right," she said, and took a sip of tea
before setting the cup on the floor. "Business."
“
Whatever it is you’ve been threatened
with, I promise you safety, Bree. No wolf is going to bully you
around and get away with it. I promise you that not because I’m
working on the case, but because I care about you. You have my
word.”
“
How can you care about someone you’ve
known but a few days?”
“
You've been on my mind for
months.”