Poison Kissed (30 page)

At last, his lovely cock slipped out of me, and I crooned in protest, my legs heavy and limp. He stroked my tender lips with his thumb, his body still warm and alive against me.

I snapped playfully at him, and even in the faint luminescence of his skin, I saw that dazzling icewarm smile. My heart somersaulted. God, I loved his smile.

I smiled back sleepily, fatigue washing happy and warm through my body. “You’re okay, Joey.”

“And you, Miss Mina, are trouble. But I like it.” He kissed me, one more time. I didn’t want him to stop. But my eyelids slid closed, and in my warm sweet dark lullaby I felt him shift against my side. I slipped my thigh over him, and we slept, with his sleek black body wrapped around mine and his narrow head nestled tight in the crook of my shoulder.

When I woke, he leaned beside me, his blond head resting on his hand. He twirled a lock of my hair around one finger, letting it catch the soft light in a sparkling blue halo. “Evening, princess.”

I smiled, sleepy, and stretched up for a kiss. I loved the smooth hardness of his body against mine. “What time is it?”

He caught my bottom lip in his teeth, provocative, and the kiss lingered, his hot menthol taste shocking me awake. “Time you went home.”

“Oh.” I fidgeted, awkward. Was he sick of me already? “Okay.”

“To change. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“You are?”

“Said I would, didn’t I? I know just the place. I’d say wear something sexy, but you always do. And bring something sharp. We’ve got work to do first.”

My smile curled, delicious. “Okay.”

“Fuck, don’t smile like that unless you want the consequences.” His mouth captured mine, and he pulled me on top of him, and my flesh opened so easily for him, sliding him inside me like we’d never been apart.

A breathless hour of kissing and stroking and sighing later, I reluctantly wriggled from his arms and went home to change.

In hot velvet evening, my place loomed dark and silent without him. I popped the harsh lights on, and for the first time I noticed how sparse the place was, how empty and heartless, the stark gray furniture unrelieved. A chill shivered my heart. I’d been so empty and alone. But for the past few hours, I’d felt at home. Safe. Alive.

Contentment gleamed like sunshine. I fumbled for my pocket to call him, hear him say my name, prove it wasn’t a dream. But my fingers brushed empty leather. My phone was lost. I’d just have to take it on trust.

For once, that didn’t seem a bad thing.

I stripped, tossed my wrecked clothes into the corner and took a quick shower, his scent on my skin steaming up the glass, faint iridescence washing away. I put on my shiniest black corset, my tightest, smoothest pants, the sharpest heels I could find. I slipped fresh knives under my jacket and painted my makeup sharp and bright. I steamed my hair rulerstraight, jagged blue ends glinting like razors, and swapped my ripped choker for a fresh one with ruby studs to match my eyes.

And Joey and I went to work.

34

In a dark, hidden corner at Unseelie Court, where music soaks like a distant bloodstain through red velvet curtains and fragrant drugsmoke hangs low, Iridium slouches on a plush scarlet sofa and watches Vincent work his sultry vampire magic.

In the booths around them, couples and threesomes sigh and snort sparkle and fuck, too drunk or high to pay attention. Opposite him, Vincent is clean and handsome tonight in white linen and pale jeans, soft brown hair in artful disarray.

The girl he’s playing with smiles and blushes, flattered by his attention, blissfully unaware. He looks boyish, charming, harmless. The perfect gentleman, the perfect killer.

Iridium’s cock stiffens just watching him. Only a beginner, it’s true, but the relish Vincent puts into his work is better than rape. This is the second masterpiece he’s created tonight, the new vampire always hungry, no amount of blood and pain and breathless surrender enough.

A bleached white earthfae girl nuzzles Iridium’s lap, her forest fragrance swimming in his head, her slow eager fingers exploring his aching cock through his jeans. For a moment, it eases the torture in his warped bones. He’s paid her well enough to adore his misshapen body. Maybe he’ll choke her with his hard-on. No point in wasting good cash.

Then again, who gives a fuck? Now the snake is gone, he’s free to practice and refine his art. Maybe he’ll take this one home and show her his toys. She’ll give him a fine blow job hung upside down by her ankles, the blood seeping from her throat.

Vincent’s canvas is beautiful, long dark locks lush on her pale shoulders, pouty lips painted yet another shade of Iridium’s favorite red. She sits primly on the couch’s edge, dark skirt covering her shapely legs to the knee, and Vincent clinks champagne glasses with her, favoring her with that killer smile. She’s already mesmerized, her deep brown eyes glazed with mutant hypnosis and the blood he’s slyly fed her, and she answers Vincent’s inane questions with a helpless quaver of desire in her voice.

Iridium nods, intent. “Good. Now ease her into it. She’s yours.”

Vincent grins and leans over to whisper dark suggestion in her ear, and as Iridium watches, she relaxes, her trim posture leaching into a wanton slouch.

The white fairy burbles happily and unzips Iridium’s jeans with her pointy teeth. Iridium stares, hypnotized by the helpless look in the dark-haired thing’s eyes, and absently pushes the fairy’s mouth onto his cock, her hair tangling loosely in his crookedsharp fingers. “Take it slow. I want to watch.”

He means Vincent, not her.

Vincent takes the glass from the toy’s limp hand and puts it aside. “Undress for me, darlin’.”

Dreamily, she obeys, unhooking her dress at the back, baring small white breasts with stiff nipples. Vincent dives and bites one with a heady crunch, and the girl smears the blood on her palm with a rich cry of spell-drenched pleasure, painting her torso red like pomegranate juice, writhing her body and moaning.

Vincent groans and swallows, blood gushing over her breast to stain the cushion.

Iridium sighs and shudders, sweet pain thrumming in his muscles like whipcord. He likes this part. Watching them surrender, demean themselves, crush their dignity to dirty shreds. His cock swells, and the fairy murmurs and sucks him harder, deeper, the scrape of her tiny teeth adding to the sensation. Her sugary fairy tongue sliding along his misshapen length makes him
want
. Unquantifiable, indescribable, that tortured mix of frustration, envy, and hatred for the world that made him like this. “More,” he demands, breathless. “Make her work.”

“Touch yourself, baby. Make it feel good.” Vincent rubs his face in scarlet trickles, his fangs making swift shallow cuts in her skin as he nibbles.

The dark-haired girl pulls her skirt up, her flimsy underwear easy to peel away. She smears her own blood between her legs, moaning as she strokes herself. Her legs are spread wide, and Iridium savors the view. She’s got pretty girlflesh, all swollen and tight like a weeping red rosebud. He’d like to lick it, and for a dim, confused instant he wonders what it’d be like to make her come, not with torture but with a gentle caress.

His head aches. Whatever. She’d feel good on his rusted teeth, the sweet slice of skin and nerve, blood spurting as he tears the pulsing shred of flesh free. Pretty, luscious, desirable, everything he’s not.

The fairy girl swallows, taking him deep in her throat. He reaches for an empty bottle and cracks the lip hard against the table’s metal rim. Glass shatters, cruel shards glinting sharp. He pushes the jagged bottle across the table.

Vincent catches his eye, and licks hungry lips, his breath quickening. He doesn’t need to be told what to do. Softly, he folds the girl’s fingers around the bottle and whispers with a feral smile.

The girl’s eyes glint, and she grips the glass tight. Spreads her legs. Brings the bottle closer.

Iridium’s broken toes curl in anticipation, a sweet spike of agony, and hot liquid metal rushes painfully up his cock, nearly, almost . . .

A freezing iron point jabs against the vein in his throat, and a wicked spellsong voice cuts his pleasure cold. “Suck it back in, metalfreak, or I let it out this end.”

I yanked Iridium’s slick bronze hair back in the stink of blood and metal sweat, and sang bitter harmonics that rattled his iron bones cold. My song felt rusty, unskilled, like I’d not used her in a while. And I’d changed while she’d been gone. We’d spend a while getting to know each other again, my cruelwitch song and I. But damn, she felt good.

Iridium grunted and spasmed, and the poor little girl with his cock in her mouth choked, spit and dirty quicksilver dripping thick from her rawburned lips. I shoved her with my pointed toe. “Outta here, darlin’. Fix you up later. Go wash that out with soap, ya hear?”

She licked her lips hungrily, sparkle-stung eyes wet, and scuttled away.

Vincent jerked up from his feasting, crimson trickles sluicing from his chin. His gaze shone blank, hungry like a trapped beast’s.

The girl with the broken bottle in her hand jerked and blinked, color flooding her cheeks. “Huh? Wh—Ahh!” She screamed and dropped the bottle, hands flailing to cover herself, get away, hide.

Joey strode up, black suit immaculate, cane in hand, soft blond hair tidy beneath his hat. He swept the room with cold green eyes. “The rest of you. Out.”

Even the three naked fairies screwing in the corner scrambled to obey, a flurry of rainbow limbs and lust-drenched green wings. Joey offered a hand to the half-naked girl, but she cowered under the table with wide eyes, hyperventilating and clutching her bloody dress to her breasts.

Iridium rolled crazy two-tone eyeballs up toward me and threw me a rusty, unhinged grin. His weird cock still twitched in his lap, semi-hard and growing. “Wanna sing like that on me?”

“Shut it, psychofae.” I jabbed the knifepoint tighter into his neck. Blood spurted cold onto my hand, a dirty steelgray smear, and disgust shook me rotten to my guts.

It was simple, in the end, to baffle club security with a few sly seductive notes, and they hadn’t objected when the metal detectors went off. And this monster was our own family. No Valenti asshole could complain we were breaking the peace. Just taking out the garbage. Cleaning up our act.

Vincent snarled, righteous, clawing the couch like an evil house cat woken from a nap. “None of your fucking business, Joey. You gave up your right to complain. Fuck off.” He tried to slink away, a blur of vampire-spelled movement, but Joey flashed out a blackscaled hand and caught him by the throat. The brass head of Joey’s cane smacked him in the balls, and he crumpled to his knees easy as you please.

Vampires. They ain’t so tough.

Joey leaned over him, a lean black shadow, and slid glinting claws sharper into the soft skin around Vincent’s windpipe. “A fine mess. What shall we do with them, Mina?”

I shrugged, Iridium’s rustfoul breath shuddering my blood. “I vote we waste them both.”

Did I mean it? Right this moment, I didn’t know. I’ve never been the thinker in this outfit. Iridium was scum of the earth and deserved to be put out of his misery. On the other hand, it wasn’t Vincent’s fault he was sick. But did that mean we should set him free?

Vincent gurgled, venom already swelling the cuts, his vampire flesh quivering as it tried to heal itself. Fever shone wild in those precious brown eyes I’d been so fond of. “You mouthy fucking bitch. I thought we were friends.”

“My friends don’t eat people, Vinny.” My hands shook, Iridium’s sharp hair slicing into my fingers. “They don’t trick girls into fucking themselves with broken glass. They don’t hurt people for f—”

“Peace, Mina.” Joey’s cool voice soothed my nerves. He dragged Vincent’s face within an inch of his, glistening fangs popping out coated in neon venom. “Last warning, kid. And only because once she liked you. Cross me again and I’ll kill you. Insult her once more and I’ll kill you slower. I understand that you need to eat. But play these filthy games again with anyone—anyone, scumsucker—and I’ll skin you alive and swallow you raw, piece by stinking piece. Get me?”

Iridium giggled, metal on glass, shivering my spine. I cut his skin deeper, but he didn’t care. “Tasty,” he commented, and licked his twisted lips.

A glowing venomdrop plinked onto Vincent’s cheek and carved down his bloody chin. He cursed, trying to flick it off. “Get off me, ya sick motherf—”

“Yes or no?” Joey shook him harder, blood spurting from his claws.

“Okay, yeah, whatever. Just get your greasy claws off me.”

“Fine. Get the fuck out.” Joey shoved him aside in a green and crimson spray, and turned to me, claws twitching.

I swallowed, sick, and deep in my chest, my magic flickered. I didn’t want to be a killer. But someone had to do it.

Joey’s cold eyes softened. “Go get us a drink. I’ll take it from here.”

Iridium’s scalp slicked cold on my fingers. I trembled. Did Joey think I was afraid? “It’s okay. I can—”

“I know you can, Mina. Go get us a drink. Please.”

Warm gratitude seeped into my limbs, and I sheathed my knife and walked out. Vincent snarled at me from the floor as I passed, and with a sweet twinge of regret, I ignored him.

Around me, the crowd seethed and danced, heavy music rich with electric harmonics, wonderful in my starved ears. The place was going off tonight, the fragrant full moon firing spellmagic in the air and lust in the blood. Fairies and trolls and spriggans danced sinuously in the crush, green and blue and scarlet, wings and limbs entwining in fresh sweat, lips shining with kisses, eyes glazed with pleasure.

Excitement rippled the air. Movement, breath, sparkling attraction, skin’s rich slide on skin. I shouldered through to the bar, enjoying the feast of color and light, but I couldn’t help reaching back with my ultrasharp ears.

Clotting bloodstains, velvet’s rich rustle, the cold rasp of Iridium’s breath. I didn’t hear Joey speak. Only a razor swipe of claws, and a rich metallic death gurgle.

My boss is a killer. No question. But he doesn’t deal out death lightly, and in this dark shadowy world, that makes it okay with me.

The sexy blond barboy grinned at me, he of the scars and leather. His blue eyes glinted sharper tonight, bright with moonlust and sly come-on. “It’s a beautiful night to be alive.”

“It is that.” I winked and ordered Joey’s scotch, along with a plain vodka tonic for me, and waited.

On the stool next to me, a blue fairy girl inhaled a sparkling green line from a shiny mirror. My stomach twisted, mixing unnerving disgust and need.

I gulped my vodka whole and put the glass down. I’d learned my lesson with that stuff. Hadn’t I?

Joey’s arms slid around my waist from behind, his hands smooth and clean, delicious lips warm on my ear. “Done. Forget about it. Let’s have the night off.”

It didn’t seem right. At the same time, it was right. This was gangland. No time for regrets or false sympathy. I turned, enjoying his embrace, sure he’d pull away too soon.

But he kissed me. In front of everyone, hungry and fresh with excitement. He’d always gotten off on danger.

I flushed, pushing away. “You shouldn’t do that. What if someone sees?”

“We’ll deal. Who gives a fuck what they think? I won’t let them hurt you, Mina.” And he kissed me again. Not just a tease or a provocation. A proper lovers’ kiss, tongues mingling, his glorious minty taste almost washing out my need for anything and everything except him.

Almost. When he released me, my treacherous gaze slipped, eyeing off that lucky fairy girl and her score.

He licked his lip, tasting me. “I want you to give it up.”

I tried a smile, but it broke. “But—”

“But nothing. You work for me, and I need you in control.”

“Okay.” My voice strained, cold. I couldn’t get used to this weird new dynamic between us. How was I supposed to know what was work and what was . . . the other thing? “Fine. It’s all just business for you, right?”

“Let me finish. You’re also my friend, and I care if you get hurt. And you’re my lover, so long as you want to be. I want to know it’s you I’m making love to, not some wild fairy glitter that makes you horny.”

I stared, my jaw dropping.

His gaze slipped, and then fixed back on mine. “Call it vanity. I just need to know it’s me you want.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d call that smile bashful. I felt like giggling. “I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong girl. My guy never says goofy romantic shit like that.”

“Give him time. He only just worked up the courage to say anything.” He took my hand and whirled me into his arms, easing into the anonymous crowd on the dance floor.

Warm sound and fragrance drifted over us, the comforting press of invisibility. My leather encased me, safe and dark, and his arms around me felt the same way. Sweet melody filled my heart with sunshine, and the sparklehungry rodent in my guts sniffed and scuttled for cover.

A smile crept over my lips. For nights like this, I could kick anything. “I’ll see what I can do. I might need some help. Y’know, to calm me down. Help me relax. Distract me when I get the urge.” I arched against him, purring like a cat, my body tingling with fresh longing.