Vampire's Hunger (3 page)

She shoved memories of her parents’ dying expressions, agonized and fearful, to the back of her mind. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered and moved forward. “Get off my car.”

He straightened and let her unlock the door. As she opened it he said, “Maddalene is very determined, Kimber. And very old, which means she’s more powerful than you can know. I’ve never known her to not get what she wants eventually.”

“Well, then, I guess she’ll finally have to learn what disappointment feels like.” She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat and turned to face Duncan. He was less than six inches away. She gasped and backed up until she bumped into the open car door. She hadn’t heard him move. It was surprise that made her move back, that was all. It certainly wasn’t because he was a hot, sexy beast that made her want to forget about all her misgivings. It had nothing to do with those clear glass-green eyes of his that seemed to see into her soul. Nothing to do with the way the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest seemed to beckon her to rest within their shelter. Nothing to do with the way his night-black hair beckoned her fingers to twine in its depths.

He rested a long arm on the roof of her car and bent toward her, effectively caging her in the opening of her car. “Be careful. She won’t put up with this attitude of yours any more than she’ll continue to accept your refusal.” His somber gaze held hers. “She wants your necromancy services, Kimber. She’ll keep coming until you give in.”

Kimber crossed her arms and tipped her head back so she could look into his handsome face. He had six inches on her in height and outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, making her feel feminine. Protected, even though he was what he was.

She looked her fill. Pretty, pretty man with long black eyelashes framing those incredible eyes. Her gaze drifted to his mouth, those sensual lips that tempted her so much. She drew in a bracing breath. It would take more than what he had to make her put herself into harm’s way. As much as she didn’t want to, the memory of her parents’ deaths at the hands of vampires—vampires who had been under Maddalene’s command—that memory kept flashing into her thoughts. It didn’t matter that Duncan had destroyed the ones who’d killed her parents. It was all too little too late. There was no way he would tempt her to forget exactly what he was, what he was capable of.

Yep, keep telling yourself that, Kimber. Maybe at some point it’ll actually be true.
She cleared her throat. “She can’t force me.”

“Can’t she?” He leaned closer until his mouth was a mere inch from hers. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

“Oh, I think I do. I have a scar to prove it, remember? You were there.”

“And you’ve never forgiven me for not protecting you then.”

She clenched her teeth. He’d promised no harm would come to her, and she’d believed him. She’d trusted him. Even after Maddalene had given the order to have Kimber’s parents used as vampire bait, Kimber had believed that Duncan would somehow protect her from the bitch queen. He’d kept Maddalene from killing her, but Kimber had a scar that ran from the left side of her throat down her back—a constant reminder of her fight with the vampire race.

“No, I haven’t,” she said in answer to his claim. In reality, she had, at least intellectually. Emotionally was another matter. It all came down to trust, and she wasn’t sure she could trust him.

He was so close she could see herself reflected in his eyes. Her pulse pounded in her throat. She resisted the urge to clap her hand over it, though as close as he was she suspected he could hear the increased rhythm of her heart. She couldn’t deny his appeal, and she refused to be ashamed of having a natural reaction of female to male. But she wasn’t going to let him seduce her into doing something she didn’t want to do. “I said no, and I meant no.”

He stared into her eyes. She didn’t feel him in her head, so she knew he wasn’t trying to use his vampire wiles to influence her. “You need to reconsider,” he said, his breath puffing against her lips as he spoke. “I promise you, this time I
will
protect you. With my life if need be.” His voice deepened. “I’m telling you this for your own good, Kimber. Reconsider.”

She planted her palms on his chest and pushed him back, aware with some anger that the only reason she was able to budge him was because he allowed it, not because she’d been strong enough. “Is that a threat?” she asked, staring hard at him. She didn’t care if he was faster and stronger than she was. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She made sure her voice was hard and tough. “Are you threatening me?” She almost added “punk” to the end but her sense of self-preservation prevailed.

Nevertheless, his eyes narrowed at her tone. “No, I’m not. I’m trying to help you.”

“Help…” She shook her head. Vampires didn’t ordinarily go out of their way to help people, especially people like her, people who held sway over the dead. It made them nervous, she supposed, seeing as how they, too, had been dead once upon a time. They had to have the thought, somewhere in the back of their minds, that maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to control them if she put her mind, and her magic, to it. She hadn’t ever seriously considered doing it, because if she tried and couldn’t, it would be very bad for her. Or if she was successful and then released control—again, it would be very bad for her.

Tapping into the Unseen wasn’t something she did on a whim. It took a lot out of her, and she nearly always ended up with nightmares for a few nights after. Most other necromancers she knew did, too. No one really knew why, though they assumed it was because of the power they drew upon to reanimate the dead.

In an effort to sort the mishmash that was her brain at the moment, she closed her eyes for a second. She couldn’t think clearly and look into that gorgeous face. When she lifted her lids again it was in time to see his dark head bend close. Passion flared in his eyes before he hid it by dropping his lashes. Then his lips slanted over hers and she lost her breath. And maybe her mind because, God help her, she liked it. A lot.

This was the first time he’d followed through on the desire she’d seen reflected in his eyes from the first time they’d met. A reciprocated desire she kept trying to deny to herself. But now, with his kiss, the truth was impossible to refute. His mouth was cool against hers at first, quickly warming from contact with her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Big hands came up and cupped her face, tilting her head to the angle he wanted as he devoured her lips. His tongue glided between her lips to tease and torment. He swallowed her low moan. One hand slid down to her waist, drawing her closer, while the other hand cradled her skull, fingers tangling in her hair.

Kimber slid her hands around to Duncan’s back. Feeling off-balance, she gripped his shirt to hold on in a world gone topsy-turvy. The feel of his firm flesh beneath the fabric served to heighten the desire she’d denied earlier. Now it flared to new life, setting her heart to pound hard against her ribs and her core to soften.

He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. Whatever he saw there made him groan. His mouth crashed onto hers again, lips nibbling, rubbing. The hand at her waist moved lower, shaping her buttock, pulling her closer.

The hard evidence of his desire excited her even further. Moaning softly, she pressed against his erection and skimmed her hands up his chest to hold his head. Silky dark hair slid through her fingers.

His mouth left hers to travel along her jaw then down her neck. When his lips slid to the pulse point in her throat, she stiffened and pushed him away. God in heaven, what had she been thinking, letting him kiss her? Letting him get close enough to bite. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She
hadn’t
been thinking.

“Kimber—”

“Don’t.” She held up one hand. “Just…don’t.” She was tired and felt like an idiot. Another second and she would’ve let him take her right there against her car. Take her with fangs and cock. She rolled her shoulders and stared at him, feeling like she was a hundred years old. “Anything for your queen, is that it, Duncan?”

He scowled. Apparently he didn’t like her calling him a prostitute. Too bad. She didn’t appreciate him trying to seduce her so she’d acquiesce to his queen’s demands.

“I didn’t kiss you because Maddalene wants you to work for her.” His face lightened and he looked at her mouth. “I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I’ve been wanting to taste you, feel those courtesan lips of yours beneath mine.”

Now who was calling whom a prostitute? “Did you just call me a whore?” She raised her eyebrows. When he appeared to be a bit discomfited and denied her charge, her good humor returned. She was never one to pass up an opportunity to give a vampire a hard time. “I’m certain that ‘courtesan’ is a pretty name for ‘whore’. And if you think I have courtesan lips, then…” She tilted her head to one side and studied him, pointedly waiting for a response.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” he finally said. His tone was dry and his expression said
touché
as clearly as if he’d verbalized it. “I do, however, think you’re a brat.”

She couldn’t hold back her grin. It felt good to finally get this composed, always in control man as off kilter as he got her. Even if it was only for a couple of seconds. “I’ll see you later,” she said and got into her car. She closed the door and cranked down the window. “You can tell your queen that my answer is still no.”

As she drove away she glanced in her rearview mirror. Duncan was nowhere to be seen. Sneaky bastard. But what else could she expect? He was a vampire, and they were the definition of duplicitous. It was too bad, really. Now that she’d kissed him, she could definitely go back for more. If he weren’t what he was.

For now they’d play this cat and mouse game and she’d see just how long she could hold out against Maddalene Vanderpool’s demands.

Chapter Two

Six months later

K
imber stood in the small kitchen of her apartment and stared at the black plastic covering the window over the sink. It was easy to say her life had taken a turn for the worse over these last several months, but certainly not any worse than anyone else’s. After that night with Whitcomb, the night when Duncan kissed her and made her think of things that could never be, the Chief Medical Examiner had fallen ill. The bite on his hand had appeared infected, dark lines shooting up his arm, his skin turning fiery red. But within forty-eight hours his temperature had broken, the infection had cleared, and he’d gone to a neighborhood block party…where he promptly went a little crazy and started attacking people. He had managed to bite a dozen people before he was restrained. He’d died three days later. But he hadn’t remained dead.

His wife erupted at the gravesite service, cursing those around her and biting anyone who tried to help. A day later someone else who’d been bitten at the party, while traveling in Europe on business, began raving at business colleagues and bit anyone who got too close.

At first no one realized what was happening, and by the time anyone did, by the time the experts concluded that the world had a full-blown pandemic on their hands spreading through a bite, it was much too late.

Now the zombie apocalypse was in full swing. From the Chief Medical Examiner—Patient Zero—the Outbreak had happened, plunging the world into chaos. And everyone blamed Kimber for it. While the Internet had still worked she’d been the subject of too many memes and tweets to count. There had been hurtful, nasty messages left on her voice mail, scrawled on her car, her apartment building. So much so that she’d moved in with her assistant without anyone else being aware of it.

Maybe it
was
her fault, but she honestly didn’t know what went wrong. She’d done her job that night the same way she had for years. The only conclusion she kept coming up with was there was something wrong in the Unseen. Or, rather, there
had
been something wrong there.

Now…now it was here.

“You’re thinking dark thoughts again.” Her friend and former assistant Natalie Lafontaine held out a coffee carafe.

Kimber held out her ceramic mug. Natalie poured it half full with coffee, tipped some of the dark brew into her own cup and replaced the blue speckled enamelware coffee pot on the one-burner camp stove sitting on the kitchen counter.

“I’m not thinking anything,” Kimber murmured and took a small sip from her cup.

“Uh-huh. You get that look on your face every time you start thinking about the apocalypse. But I’m not going to tell you, for the thousandth time, it wasn’t your fault.” Without waiting for Kimber’s response, Natalie went on. “Nothing like roughing it in the middle of the city,” she said, keeping her voice low as they all had to do. The apartment was well-insulated but not soundproof. While the zombies’ sense of smell wasn’t the greatest, they had decent hearing. Loud noises caught their attention, so survivors of the Outbreak had learned to be quiet.

Natalie sighed and sat down in the chair next to Kimber. The small dining room in Kimber’s apartment was dimly lit by two pillar candles in the center of the table. With black trash bags taped over the windows of the apartment, the area outside of the dining room was in complete darkness.

“We’re going to need more propane for the camp stove soon. And that’s the last of the coffee,” Natalie murmured. She leaned an elbow on the glass top table and propped her chin in her hand. “Unless we beat up the old ladies in 315 for their stash.”