Night Series Collection: Books 1 and 2 (2 page)

Of course, I couldn’t honestly say I blamed her. He was delicious.

Trite as it sounds, clichéd as the phrase is, I knew in that moment that it was a hundred percent true. It was like the world stopped. Took a collective breath and held it. My vision narrowed down to nothing but him.

He was dressed in jeans, tattered and scuffed at the knees. The material hugged his legs to perfection. White, button down shirt opened at the collar gave me a peek of smooth, flawless skin. No hair on the chest. Good. I hated chest hair.

His lips were firm, sensual. The kind of mouth that made a good girl want to go bad. Or a bad girl go badder. I licked my lips, taking a small step closer and poured out a little of my magick, or glamour as some called it. It wasn’t much. Or dangerous. A minor thrall. One, that if he thought of later, might make him wonder what it was about me that made him unable to look away.

He narrowed his eyes, his long, slightly hawkish nose flared. My heart pounded. Did he sense it? If he did I was screwed. I preferred my prey willing and pliant beneath my touch. His needs and satisfaction as important as my own. Unlike most of my kind I didn’t delight in force. But Lust needed to be fed and what she wanted was him.

I wouldn’t rape him. I could. I had the power to make him want me to the point that he’d be willing to sell his soul for a taste of me. I was not a good person. Never pretended to be. But there were some lines even I wouldn’t cross. That was one of them.

I stepped closer. He smelled of sandalwood and man. Adrenaline surged through me, my skin prickled and my nipples puckered.

He didn’t move.

I wished I could see his hair color, I’d always had a thing for brunettes, but he had it covered with a ball cap.

Everything about him stood out, except his eyes. Brown. That was it. Just brown. No flecks of color inside of it. No unusual iris. It was about as humdrum brown as you could get. I’d even call it boring. Except that after years of seeing nothing but the unusual, the usual made my pulse hammer. Heat coiled like a sling between my thighs, making me wet and needy. I bit down on my lip and his eyes honed in like a missile to target.

Lust grew more impatient. Demanded I walk my fingers up his chest, touch him in some way. Any way. Just so long as I branded him as hers.

I shoved the thought away. I was in charge here. Not Lust.

“Billy...” The girl hanging onto his arm shook him hard.

Billy?

That name just seemed so wrong. I didn’t know him from Adam, but he definitely didn’t seem like a Billy. Maybe more like a Thor. My lips twitched.

God of Thunder.

Yes, please.

“C’mon, Billy, I want to ride the Ferris wheel before it gets much later.” I had to fight the urge to snarl at the sound of her saccharine sweet Southern drawl. What was he doing with her? After several thousand years I'd prided myself on reading others pretty well, and something just wasn't adding up here.

She was too sweet. Too good. And while the "Billy" facade seemed to imply corn fed country, the eyes were the true window of the soul and his screamed:
Warning! Danger!
Brown eyes needed a woman with fire. A woman who knew how to handle a man like him.

A woman like me.

Billy glanced down at her and smiled. A secret, private thing hinting at possession. Carnal and raw. But also tempered with something softer. Gentle.

Men never looked at me like that. With lust yes. But
that
, whatever
that
was...never.

It wasn’t normal for my kind to want what he’d shown her. I touched the thick scar on my chest barely concealed by the curls of my streaked hair. The scar was tangible proof of that.

“You’re right, Belle.”

He shot me a look, his eyes filled with barely disguised hate.

Call me stupid, every alarm in my brain was warning me all was not what it seemed, and yet, my pulse continued to thrum with heat and need.

But no matter how thick that need got, Billy didn't bat a lash. In fact, he seemed oblivious. Which was odd, the need Lust exuded was akin to a pheromone no mortal could resist. I’d seen it work thousands of times before, why not now?

Belle growled, her big blue eyes moving from Billy to myself and back again with annoyance. “Are you gonna let us ride or what?” she snapped at me.

I couldn’t believe this. Was I really going to have to admit defeat? This had never happened to me before in my life.

He lifted a brow, as if in challenge.

What the hell was wrong with me? With Lust? Was she sick?

You know how when a parent tells a child no, suddenly it makes the desire to do exactly that even stronger? That’s how I felt right now.

He was telling me no. And now I wanted him even more.

For the first time in my life I contemplated breaking my own rule. But my rules were the only thing that kept me sane. Kept me feeling not so dark, not so inhuman. I wouldn’t do it. Not even for him.

I spread my arm, standing to the side and allowed them to pass.

Lust raged inside me, the echo of her discontent scraped my nerves raw and my head throbbed with white hot pain. I grabbed my skull, pressing against my temple to try and ease the pain.

Billy hugged Belle tight to his side, almost protectively, and pushed past me to take a seat on the ride.

I watched him and Belle watched me.

I didn’t care.

He intrigued me. Very little did anymore. Who was he? What was he? I hadn’t sensed him as anything other than human, but there was no way. No human male could resist Lust.

The pain in my head started to slowly subside.

There was something very curious about Billy. Maybe I should have been scared. That would have been the sane reaction. Instead, for the first time in centuries, I didn’t want a man because Lust demanded it.

I wanted this man because
I
demanded it.

“C
ome one, come all, to the big top of the damned.” Bubba, six-foot-eight of luscious sex-turned flesh, twirled his black top hat with a flourish. “See sights beyond imagination.” He pointed his polished cane at the red and white stripped tent flap. “Take a ride on the wild side.”

That rich, velvety voice of his oozed sexual charm and those mundane blue eyes twinkled with mirth. Nordic good looks and a body that would have made Michelangelo weep. Big arms, big chest, big legs. The man was just big and uber hot. Which was why Luc had made him Master of Ceremonies, he could draw a crowd like no other.

The hair, the voice, that gorgeous smile...all Bubba, but the eyes...total sham. His real eyes were a red so deep they could almost pass for black and a dead giveaway that he was something other than human.

He simpered. He batted his long lashes at the ladies and men crowding around his platform, salivating with their need to get closer to him. In short, he made love to them. It was another type of glamour, and he was the best at it. Probably because of all of us, he had the most wicked of appetites.

It was Bubba that brought those of us with the more carnal cravings, our bait. That voice wasn’t simply a call to sex, that was a call to obey.

Any who entered were prey. They’d be wined, dined, charmed their pretty little socks off and before the night was through, they’d all be dead. But let me state for the record, there is honor among thieves.

We were careful. We didn’t kill indiscriminately. Anything good, anything filled with light, was not ours for the taking. We liked to think of our sessions as clean up for the betterment of the human race. Not that we ever got thank you cards in the mail for it—a point, many more feral than myself liked to point out to Luc. But their cries fell on deaf ears. For better or worse, the nephilim had turned over a new leaf.

Long ago we’d killed arbitrarily, not caring who or what, so long as we fed the beast. But since our...let’s call it conversion, we’ve stuck to the rules. Only kill those who’d in some way inflect unimaginable horror on others.

You’d think that would keep the menu sparse, but you’d be surprised how much evil is out there. We were well fed.

A tall brunette, dressed to the nines in a barely there strapless dress and stiletto shoes, reached out to Bubba with a hand drowning in diamonds. Coal rimmed green eyes batted at him, drawing his attention exclusively to her like the good cougar on the prowl that she was.

Bubba smiled. He grabbed her hand, planting a kiss on the knuckle. She’d been tagged. Her nights of swindling were over.

Bubba. Dear, dear Bubba. My misogynistic pervert.

Okay, so maybe misogynistic was too harsh. He loved the ladies. He liked their look, he liked their scent, but more than anything he liked them chopped into dainty little ribbons of fleshy goodness.

Wonder if Ms. Gold Digger would have been so quick to thrust herself at him if she knew. Somehow, I doubt it.

I turned away from him. I couldn’t look. As a brother in sin, I loved him, but what he did turned my stomach. I know he was as helpless to the demon as I was and in so many ways I was grateful that lust was my only vice.

“Look at him pour on that farm boy routine.” The deep, barrel-chested voice belonged to none other than my boss. I nodded as his arms slid around my waist. He smelled of sex and absinthe. I didn’t need to ask to know he’d already sampled the night’s wares, his beast was sated. He came to me because even if we fed, Lust was a determined demon and when we could have sex, we’d take it.

But to call our relationship anything other than sometimes volatile and always complicated was an understatement.

He knew me and I knew him. We knew what it was to be controlled by Lust, but we weren’t bound to each other beyond meeting our physical demands. If Luc wanted to screw half the tri-state area, it was no concern of mine. Maybe once, several thousand years ago, it had mattered. But those days were far behind me. If you’d ask him, I’m sure he’d be as quick to tell you as I would, that what we have certainly isn’t love. History had proven that.

He leaned down, his shoulder length hair brushed against my bare shoulders as he nipped with his too sharp teeth at my ear. “Pandora, I’ve lost you again.” His voice had grown soft and husky with that perfect blend of man and beast. “Face me, woman.”

I shook my head. “Now, Luc,” I said with a hint of laughter, “you know better than to ask me that. One look at you and I’ll turn into some buxom playboy pinup floozy.”

And that was the secret of my power. Of how I got any man I wanted. When Lust tagged you, she’d turn me into whatever her prey wanted. Blond, brunette, Asian, Hispanic, didn’t matter...I could do it all.

He chuckled. “And what’s wrong with that?”

I choose to ignore that comment. That bastard would like nothing more then for me to turn into Marilyn Monroe meets Pamela Anderson: thin, busty, and babaliciously blonde. But I wasn’t turning. Not while I had my riders behind me.

I tried to bury the nasty thought that I also didn’t want to turn because I was still royally peeved I hadn’t figured out Billy.

“Oh I see,” Luc came to stand beside me, “you’ve tagged yourself a live one.” He laughed, but the sound wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Again, I ignored him. My prey was my business. I didn’t bother him about his.

The ride was coming to an end. I walked toward the controls, the entire time watching them. Their heads were bent. Belle wore a smile that said very clearly Billy was gonna score tonight. That wasn’t what bothered me though. It was the look of hunger, need, reflected on his face that made me tremble.

And when they kissed, I swear it was magic. I closed my eyes, for a second feeling as if it were his lips pressed to my own, his hot tongue sweeping my mouth. My heart hammered. Lust screamed at me, banging at the walls of her cage.

She wanted to be fed and she wanted to be fed
now
. Luc’s gaze was fixed on my face. I felt it like a hot brand.

“I know that look.”

“What look?” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, making sure not to make contact.

His jaw clicked. “You want him.”

I shrugged. “He wants her.”

“Then take him.”

I planted my hands on my hips and turned to him, pouring as much of my anger into my gaze as possible. “I don’t do that. Unlike the rest of you heathens, I’ve got rules.”

“Rules are meant to be broken, Pandora.”

The ride was done. I slammed the button, lifting the bar lap and growled at him. “That’s where you and I are different, Luc. You don’t get me now, you never will.”

I felt him. I tried not to look. I tried to ignore him. Pretend Billy didn’t exist. But I felt the brush of wind sweep against my arm as he walked past me. Then he looked at me. Stopped and studied me.

I heard Luc inhale, saw Belle turn with a question in her eyes, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t have ripped my gaze from his if the world was burning down around us.

In that moment, in that second, I felt a connection to something I’d never known before. I saw
me
in his eyes. Pandora. Not a reflection of lust, but me, and he was drinking it up.

I shivered.

“Billy?” Belle’s voice finally cut through the spell.

“Coming,” he muttered and when he finally turned, all I could do was take a shaky breath and lean against my booth on knees that felt suddenly too wobbly to hold me up.

“What the hell was that?” Luc snarled, glancing over his shoulder.

I shook my head, still smelling sandalwood everywhere. I had no idea. I rubbed goose bumps on my arm that refused to go down.

“You know what, Pandora...just,” he clenched his jaw, “whatever.”

I watched him go. His feelings were hurt. He tried to pretend he didn’t have them. They all did. They all pretended to be hard. Bad. Evil. But that’s where I’m different. I’m tired of pretending.

I should go after him.

I should do lots of things.

But I stayed where I was. Riders came and went. My antipathy growing stronger and stronger, knowing Billy had probably left already. Why was I so intrigued by him?

I hated to admit this, but I kept looking out into the crowd, hoping for one more glimpse. A sighting. My lips twitched.