Moonlight and Diamonds & The Vampire's Fall (29 page)

Chapter 7

Z
en's mouth landed on Blade's with graceful precision. He grabbed her arms to push her away. Not expecting a kiss, he'd been blindsided. And when he wanted to shove her off and march out of the room, he suddenly relaxed his grip on her arms and leaned into the kiss.

And then he leaned in a little more.

He pulled her closer, sliding a hand up her back to keep her there. Her mouth fit his like no other woman's had. She felt...not so much right, but rather as if she'd found something and did not want to again lose it. A missing piece to her puzzle? Despite being unable to remember things about herself, she'd certainly not lost the skill of delivering a kiss.

He moaned deep in his throat and then opened her mouth with his and slid his tongue inside her heated kiss. She tasted like coffee. She felt impossibly exquisite. She smelled like honey and her body was warm and supple against his. A sweet thing.

And that was the kicker. Her scent did not allude to her identity. What
was
she? And worse, could whatever she was be bad for him?

Forcing himself to pull away from the kiss, he held her at a distance even as she leaned forward, attempting to ply him with another kiss. “What was that for?” he asked on a raspy tone.

“I had the compulsion to kiss you. You taste great. And your fangs didn't get in the way. Cool,” she said with more enthusiasm than she probably should have. “Did I do it right? I mean, I'm not sure if I've kissed a man before.”

“It was nice. Er, I mean... Yeah, it was okay.”

“Okay? Hmm, that implies I need more practice.”

The second kiss was firmer, more demanding, and was filled with an eagerness that rippled through Blade's system and hardened his cock. And then it jabbed at his vampiric need for a deeper, more intimate, connection. His fangs wanted down, and he fought against it.

He'd meant it when he'd said he would not bite her. Not when he didn't know what the hell she was.

Practice? This chick was an expert kisser.

“Zen, stop.” He shrugged her off and backed toward the bed, but realized he was trapped unless he scrambled over the bed and out the door. “I can't do this. I—I don't do this.”

“You don't do what? Kiss women? Are you gay? Stupid me. I don't have the gaydar that I know some do.”

“I am not gay. Though, I wouldn't confine my sexual choices to women, either. I just don't do...this.”
And leave it at that. Please.

“Oh. You mean like the physical-contact thing? Or the emotion thing?”

“I think we've chatted enough for today.”

“You mean kissed?”

He nodded. “Whatever you want to call it. Just drop it, will you?”

“If you insist. But you did share with me, so I guess that was my return share.”

A kiss in exchange for a confession to vampirism. Worked for him. Until it did not. Blade did not want to get involved with a pretty woman in need of saving. He just. Did. Not. He either made love to them or rescued them. There was to be no in-between. Not anymore.

“Will you get me that car?” she asked sweetly. “The town is small but it's easier to get around in a vehicle.”

He swung around the side of the bed, but the door was so far away, and did he really want to run out like a scared boy who'd just gotten his first kiss?

“Of course. And I want to take you to the witch. But I have to stop by the nuns' place today.”

“Did you miss that appointment?”

“No, I told them I'd swing by when I was in town. Didn't specify a time.”

“If I have a car I can run around on my own. I wouldn't need your help.”

He wasn't sure if he should applaud that or lament not having a damsel to save. Because then his only other option would be to make love to her.

“I don't mind helping you, Zen. We'll get you figured out.”

“You really think I could be something
not
human?”

“It's a possibility. It would help if I had some notion of what you are...”

Getting an idea, he bent and tugged out the knife from his boot. Turning to Zen, he held up the big bowie knife that had saved his ass on more than a few occasions. Her eyes widened. Her
gold
eyes.

Lowering the knife to his side, he leaned forward to peer at the irises. They changed color often.

“What? You looking for the best place to jab that big blade? I just start trusting you and then you go and freak me out of that trust, over and over—”

“They're gold now.”

“My eyes? They were sort of a muddy green when I was in the bathroom processing things.” She blinked. Rubbed an eyelid. “So what does that have to do with you bringing out the big bad weapon?”

“Nothing at all. And maybe everything.” Jaw tensing, he weighed his options. The easiest choice was going to once again tug her out of trust and push her toward freak mode. “I want to make a small cut in your skin to see your blood.” He grabbed her hand, holding her palm upward. “Will you let me?”

“Once again, you're making me think Brock was the better bet.”

He frowned at her.

“Is this a vampire thing?”

“No. I have three brothers and one sister. One of my brothers is full-blood faery. He bleeds ichor. Ichor is clear and sparkles. Not red.”

His blood was red, and yet—she didn't need to know that it had a tendency to sparkle, as well.

“So you think if you cut me...” She squeezed her fingers a couple times. A nervous reaction. Then she closed her eyes, squeezed them tightly and nodded. “Okay. I've processed. Go for it.”

He wasn't going to argue and give her a chance to reconsider.

Blade dragged the tip of his blade in an inch-long cut down the center of her palm. She didn't make a peep. Points for bravery. Blue blood seeped out and dribbled toward his hand. He panicked and dropped her hand. And even as he backed away, the blood spilling from her palm changed color. Black droplets hit the worn beige carpeting.

Zen studied her hand and then the floor. “It changed color. And it's not red. Wow. I—don't think I'm human,” she said with wonder. “How strange is that? I think I just passed you on the weirdness scale. But what bleeds blue?”

Heart falling in his chest, Blade stumbled backward, landing on the bed. “Angels.”

* * *

The man sitting on the bed growled at her. And then he revealed a flash of fang. It was a combative display, and Zen didn't like it. Not coming from the man whom she trusted to help her learn about herself. And then she did not trust him.

And then she got over her freak-out to trust him again.

It was exhausting trusting this man.

But the display of fangs cautioned her that she knew little about him. And he could be very dangerous.

So back to not so much trust.

“Are you serious?” she asked with a gesture toward his fangs. “Don't go all warrior on me, Blade. Settle down. This is news to me. I'm an angel? I can't be.” She thrust out her palm. It no longer bled, and had completely healed. “What the—? Do it again.”

He held up his hands in protest, the knife in one of them and shook his head. “I'm not touching angel blood.”

“I am not an angel. I mean...I don't feel angelic.” She patted her chest, ran her hands over her hips. “What do angels feel like?”

“I don't know what you are, Zen. Angel is a guess.”

“Right, but then my blood turned black. What does that mean?”

“Demons bleed black.”

She gaped at him.

“That must have been your denizen back at the house.”

“I am not part of a denizen.”

“You have amnesia, so that argument is invalid.”

Slamming her hands to her hips, Zen pinned the man with her best snappish look. Tossing the truth at her wasn't going to win him any points. All she wanted to do was move back to the window and resume their kiss. That perfect, delicious, erotic kiss. It had shimmered through her insides, warming in its wake, and had made her feel—things she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before.

But the evidence was not something she could ignore. Her blood wasn't red. That ruled out human. Right? For all the mythological knowledge she held in her brain, she could confirm that, yes, angels were the only creatures that bled blue. And quite a few things bled black, though the majority were demonic.

Maybe she was angel
and
demon? Was that possible? She didn't know. She'd only just begun to believe in creatures beyond humanity. She didn't feel particularly angelic. Where were her wings?

“This is,” she started, “surprising. I need to process this.” She inspected her palm. “Look.”

Blade leaned over, without touching, though his hair did skim her wrist. “It's healed. You are not human by a long shot.”

“We should talk to the witch.”

“I'll give her a call.”

“Blade.” She grabbed his hand as he stood and fished out his cell phone. “Thank you.”

He shrugged and pulled out of her grip.

“I know you think it's something you're doing, like helping the elderly. But you could have left me in that parking lot last night. And you could just walk away now. The door is right there. I won't protest if you leave. Too much. I mean, I
am
all alone. But you know, I've managed to survive this long. A week. I could probably manage awhile longer.”

Now his body changed from the stiff defensive posture, his shoulders relaxing. He touched the ends of her hair. “You need my help. That's something I'm willing to give.”

“Great. Let's seal that with a kiss.” She tilted up on her toes, but he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“The two of us kissing? I'm not cool with that.”

“Why—”

His hand between them frustrated her. “No questions. Deal?”

If she didn't agree, he might take her invitation to walk out the door. But if she agreed, did that mean she'd never taste his kiss again? It seemed a ridiculous sacrifice in exchange for some information about herself. She had some ideas. Angel?

But not knowing would keep him from kissing her again for sure. So she'd choose the lesser of the two evils.

“Deal.”

* * *

Blade hadn't forgotten about the nuns. He told Zen he'd give her a call when he was finished and they could go see the witch. She said she planned to do some shopping—which he didn't argue, as that dress was...loud—so he said he'd look for her at the local strip mall later in the evening. He estimated a whole afternoon of work.

The nuns had been sitting out in the backyard sipping lemonade when he'd arrived. Thrilled at his arrival, they had helped him haul heavy stones around the fountain. A couple of workhorses. And their jokes had been surprisingly ribald. He'd ensured the water flowed and the fountain was secured to the concrete base with a couple heavy-duty bolts. When all was finished, he refused their offer to pay and promised he'd return with further landscaping assistance in a few days after the plants had arrived.

It was seven-thirty in the evening when he drove by the strip mall and spied Zen. Blade had told her he would park in the back lot. The lot butted up against an abandoned sewing-needle factory. The brick walls were crumbling, but he liked the decay. And the quiet.

Leaning against the pickup truck bed, he confirmed by phone call with Dez Merovich it was okay to stop by tonight. She was a nearly millennium-old witch who, a few years ago, had cured his brother Stryke of the silver poisoning he'd received after a hunter's arrow had cut him while in wolf shape. She also studied diabology. If anyone would have some answers for Zen, Blade suspected it could be Dez.

And while waiting, Beck called. The Mini Cooper was ready. He could take it off Beck's hands for three grand. A pittance if it would enable Zen to find her feet and survive on her own. The price tag wouldn't even dent his finances.

Was he going out of his way to help this chick to achieve his own redemption? The gods knew he was desperately in need of forgiveness. Or better yet, forgetting. He'd take Zen's amnesia from her if it were possible. A woman had died because of his indiscretions.

Could helping Zen find out who she was erase his sins?

All Blade wanted was to feel the weight of that horrible disaster lift from his shoulders. He'd wear the scars to remind him of it forever. The mental place he went to when Octavia's memory popped up threatened to bring him down so deep he'd never rise. It was why he kept to himself. Safer for him and those innocents with whom he came in contact.

Was Zenia an innocent? If she was an angel, he didn't know what to think. Same if she was demon. Either way, she was not a species he wanted to get involved with. He'd learned his lesson.

He had.

So when the taste of her kiss shimmered onto his tongue, he couldn't decide whether to savor it or grab the water bottle he kept in the truck cab and wash it away.

I
am
all alone.
She'd said it with desperation, and he hadn't felt as if it had been a ploy.

He knew that desperate feeling. Sometimes being the loner wasn't what his soul desired. And that was why he couldn't walk away from Zen now.

A woman's scream alerted him. At the end of the alleyway he saw the silhouettes. Zen stood holding armloads of shopping bags. A tall, broad-shouldered man wielded a circular blade that he swung toward the hapless female.

Chapter 8

I
n a matter of two seconds Blade assessed and reacted. The attacker was big, but so was Blade. The enemy had a weapon, and Blade had the bowie knife. The alley was secluded. For the moment. He couldn't know how long before Zen's scream would bring curious onlookers. This matter needed to be dealt with. Fast.

So he shifted into his most powerful form.

With a warning growl, his wings emerged and his shirt tore across his biceps and abs. When in faery form his muscles tightened and grew more defined and powerful. Everything about his vampire was heightened, as well. His fangs slid down, pinprick sharp and longer than usual. Scents grew stronger and the air vibrated against his skin. He could navigate by sensation with his eyes closed and in the blackest cavern if need be.

He kept his eyes open and raced toward the intruder and Zen.

The attacker swung his weapon toward Blade, who caught the man by the forearm. The weapon clattered to the ground and Zen grabbed for it. At the sight of the circular weapon, Blade did not sink his fangs into the man's biceps. An angel halo? Which would make this guy an angel.

The last thing a vampire wanted to do was suck angel blood. That was the way to certain death.

The man swung Blade around and his spine hit the brick wall, wings folding about his shoulders in defense. The attacker's grasp was supernaturally strong, and he closed his fingers about Blade's throat. Blade slashed a wing forward, the edges of the black-and-silver appendage razor sharp and cutting through his opponent's cheek. Blue blood oozed from the cut.

Just as Blade felt a bone crack in his neck vertebra, the man—angel—suddenly gleamed bright white. His eyes glowed all colors. His mouth gaped. Then he dispersed in a cloud of crystal dust, dropping on the ground between Blade and Zen.

Zen held the circular weapon, dripping with blue angel blood. “Holy crap, that was awesome!”

Blade immediately shifted back to his vampire form, tucking his wings in and insinuating them into his system. His neck had cocked at an uncomfortable angle, and he jammed the heel of his palm against his vertebrae to shove them back into position. That smarted, and took his senses from him. Landing on his knees before the pile of crystal ash, he was aware of his torn jeans. Didn't matter. Zen was safe.

“That was interesting,” Zen announced with more glee than a woman who had almost died at an angel's hands should have.

“You just killed an angel.”

“I know! This thing rocks. I picked it up from the ground when he dropped it. It's just like mine.”

“Yours?” He gasped and looked up at her. Did she beam unnaturally? Her smile was effusive. Not at all like someone who had just killed. And those marks inside her elbows seemed to glow. “What do you mean it's like yours?”

She flipped the halo over and over then made to put it over her head.

“No!” Blade blurted out and stood. He put up placating hands. “Don't do that.”

She cringed and lowered the halo. “Uh, sorry?”

“If there is any chance you might be angel, if you put a halo in its rightful place—above your head—you will turn human.”

“Oh. Okay. I think I need to process that.”

“Yeah, you do that. Maybe I should hang on to that for you?”

She clasped it to her chest possessively. Okay, maybe not. He wasn't too keen on touching the blue blood tracing the circular metal anyway.

“So!” Her eyes wandered down his form and lingered at his crotch, where he felt a draft due to his ripped jeans. “You're going to need some new pants. The store just closed, but maybe there's a Target at the edge of town?”

“Zen!”

“Oh.” She waved the angel halo before her. “I suppose you can have it. Mine is in my backpack. So this blood is blue.” She inspected the bladed edge of the halo. “I didn't think it would be so easy to kill an angel. What's up with that?”

“It's the halo. It can be used as a weapon against the divine.”

“I'd hardly call someone who had the intent of killing me divine.”

“Neither would I.”

She wiped the blood across her skirt, then thrust it toward him. “Here.”

He accepted the cleaned halo, putting it around his wrist for the moment, and grabbed her shopping bags by the handles and strode toward the truck. “You get what you need?” Seriously? He'd just asked about her shopping trip instead of the obvious, like how was she able to kill a freaking angel?

“Yes!” She scrambled after him. “But, oh, there was this tiara. It was part of a display. It sparkled madly. They wouldn't sell it to me. It was just rhinestones, but it was so pretty—”

“Zen.”

“What?”

“We need to get out of here before someone comes. But before we do...” He opened the truck door and dumped one of the shopping bags out, littering the floor with frilly clothing, and handed it to her. “Go scoop up the angel dust. We can give it to Dez in repayment for any info she might give us.”

“Cool. I love the sparkly stuff.” She gestured to his shoulder. “Nice wings, by the way.”

“I am so out of my element with your easy acceptance of me,” he admitted.

“Yeah?” Her eyes glided down to his crotch. “You're easy on the eyes, no matter what your form. I'll be right back.”

“Hurry!”

He slid into the driver's seat and pulled a shirt from her bag over his lap. He hadn't a clean shirt to pull on to cover his back and prevent her from seeing the scars. Maybe she wouldn't notice.

Hell, she'd notice. The woman's eyes had practically licked every part of him just now.

Shaking his head and trying not to smile, Blade focused on the serious stuff. He'd shifted into faery shape in the middle of the city. Not something he'd ever done before. Too risky. Yet when weighing the risk against Zen's death, it hadn't required thought.

And yet, she had made the killing strike. The woman was utterly remarkable. And that was not a good thing. Because the more she fascinated him, the harder it would be to stand back and not get emotionally involved.

The passenger door opened and Zen stepped up into the truck. “Got it! And there was this.” She held up a soft red feather as long as an ostrich plume but with tighter barbs.

“We'll show it to Dez. First I want to swing by my place and put some clothes on.”

“Good plan. I don't really understand why your clothes are all ripped and...” Her eyes landed on his bare chest. “Missing.”

Blade bowed his head to catch her gaze.

Zen shook her head as if to jar herself out of the stare. “Right. So vampires have wings?”

“Uh, not full-blood vamps.”

“You're not full blood? What does that make you?”

No avoiding this conversation because the woman was persistent. He shifted into gear and headed north toward home. “I told you one of my brothers is faery.”

“That you did. Can I assume one of your parents is faery?”

“My mother. And I got some of her sidhe mojo. Sidhe is the universal term for faeries. I consider myself vamp, but I have the faery wings, so there you go.”

“I'm surprised.”

“Why?”

“That you can be more than one thing.”

He found her gaze in the rearview mirror. “If you know so much about the world, you must be aware that the humans carry a mix of many heritages in their DNA. Look at you. Your skin color is light brown and your eyes are bright and your hair is almost red. Whatever you are, I'd guess you have a mixture of races in you.”

“So? Oh.”

“So that would imply I am allowed a mix of as many different breeds.”

“Fair enough. And when you saw the big bad guy standing over me, you determined your faery had the best chance against whatever it was and you reacted. Good call.”

“Lot of good it did. You were the one who killed the angel.”

“I did, didn't I? Felt kind of empowering.” She flexed her skinny biceps, and when she noted his frown, added, “You held him in place for me.”

“I can live with that.” And despite himself, he laughed at that one, and drove onward.

Yep, this woman was going to try his every staunch effort to never get involved again.