Crave the Night (29 page)

“
Talking about me?” he wondered
softly. His touch, so gentle, always belied his true intentions.
The addiction’s attentions. “Missed you.”

“
Me too, but I gotta get out of here
for a while. I need my daily vitamin D to survive. It’s a faery
thing. I've some errands to run.”

He tugged her into an iron embrace. Indeed
the Hyde side of him acted out when coming down from the high. He
was a little bit rougher, a little less caring. “You don’t want
me?”

“
Rev, I want you. I want to make love
with you. To bond with you. But you don’t want to do anything more
than bite me.”

“
Biting’s good. You taste good. Love
my pretty sparkly faery mine.”

She kissed his chin.
“
You’re
good, Rev. A good man
who should have never gotten involved with this faery.”

“
Faeries taste good. Thought I was
yours?” He grazed his tooth along her jaw. Bree pressed carefully
against his mouth, for to struggle would only make him more
forceful. “Just a little bite?”

“
Rev, I need to get groceries. Can you
wait until I get home?”

“
Who needs to eat?”

“
I do. I can't survive on a liquid
diet like you.”

“
No, need you now.”

As his grip tightened, she managed to slip
from his arms and rushed to the door. He followed closely and
slammed a palm against the open door, but Bree got half her body
outside before he could close it. Bright sunlight beamed in. The
vampire blinked and shuffled away.

“
Don’t leave me,” he moaned. “I won’t
hurt you. Bree!”

The agony in his voice made her want to hug
him close and swear they would be good forever. But not like this.
Not when the dust made him less than the man she knew he was.

“
I’ll be back soon,” she promised, and
slammed the door shut on the man she wanted to love, but needed to
push away.

The faery bitch had gone out in the daylight
knowing he couldn’t follow. What was she doing? Denying him? Damn
it.

Rev swiped a hand across the sheets, seeking
to imbue his palms with lingering faery dust. Anything to bring on
the loopy tingle. It took so much now. And he needed more.

Growling, he ripped the pillow apart.
Feathers scattered. He kicked the bed and paced the floor.

“
What the hell is wrong with me!” he
shouted to the walls. “I’m stronger than this.”

He knew what was going on. Faery dust
infected his veins like a monster gnawing at his bones. It ate at
him, starving him and increasing his hunger for more.

Yet he’d overcome once. He could do it
again. But that would mean denying himself Bree.

Bree was everything. She was the light in
his darkness. The soft in his steely hard world. Her voice glided
across his aches and soothed them away. She giggled like the only
sunshine he could ever know.

He’d been forceful with her. So cruel. And
she had given him what he’d demanded because—well, because she
feared he’d rip her apart if she refused.

He would not. But he couldn’t know if the
desire for dust would force him to such an unsavory act.

“
I have to get away from here.” How
long had he been here? Days surely. Weeks? What was he doing? He
should be working the case. Getting the information needed— “She
keeps denying me. What she won’t give me is my freedom.”

He bashed a fist into the wall, but the
rough bricks did not give. Blood dripped from his knuckles. Rev
kicked the wall and shouted.

It’s what he needed. To drown himself in
mortal blood and wash away the faery dust. To not think about the
delicious enchantment eddying through his system, making him warm
and woozy, and wondering where she had gone.

When would she return?

Had it been hours? Days?

He rushed to the door but winced at the
bright daylight. It could have only been minutes.

His mind was no longer his own. He had to
leave, and now, before he lost and brought Bree down with him.
There was only one way to go about during the day. He’d need
protection from the sun.

Erte Medalknyght would give the vampire
credit. He was making an effort to put distance between himself and
Bree. Not the greatest effort. Walking about with a sheet pulled
over his head and sunglasses wasn’t going to get him far. And his
rambling gate stumbled him against the building wall so many times
the vampire had taken to beating the brick and shouting at it.

Erte sighed. “Idiot dust freak.”

Bree was a good friend and he did owe her
one for the time she’d fixed him up with the stripper. She’d been
hot, and they’d had a fabulous time of it before they’d both gotten
utterly sick of the other and had mutually ended their sixty-day
sex fest.

Hey, an elf took it when he could get it.
And Erte got it a lot. Smirking, he pulled the SUV over to the curb
behind the vampire. The vehicle had been specially designed, all
steel replaced with titanium and no iron at all. If a sidhe wanted
to exist in this mortal realm, everything he owned had to be
modified.

He palmed a titanium pistol loaded with
wooden bullets. They wouldn’t kill the vampire, but if he could
plug him in a major artery, it’d slow him down enough to nab the
creature and dump him in the back of the car.

The vampire was a big one. Broad of shoulder
and tall. Not exactly Bree's type. But then Erte realized he didn't
know her type. Chicks were always attracted to the big, studly, and
the forbidden.

"Man, is that guy forbidden," he muttered.
"Bree really got herself in deep this time."

The vampire punched the wall again, taking
out a section of brick.

“
Should have brought Silver along,”
Erte muttered, thinking the seven-foot troll would have loved this
mission. He cocked the gun and stepped out of the
vehicle.

Another body along to help would have only
exposed Bree's mistake. She wanted this kept quiet. Didn’t want the
vampires to learn one of their own was addicted. Weird that she
cared, but Erte didn’t question. Sabrina Kriss was good stuff.

“
Hey, buddy!”

The vampire wobbled along the wall, a blood
smear from his knuckles leaving a trail. Not cool for this
neighborhood. He swore at Erte, suggesting he do something nasty
with his mother.

Erte aimed for the neck, and fired. The
vampire swung about, the sheet falling from his head. He groped for
the bullet stuck in his throat. With his other hand he tried to
block the sun from his eyes.

Not the nicest way to be put down, but
necessary.

He approached the vampire and kicked high,
landing under the jaw. The move rocked the vampire's head on his
spinal column, which successfully knocked him out cold. He fell
forward, which Erte appreciated. He had merely to bend and catch
the big guy over a shoulder.

Ten minutes later, he secured the vampire in
his own home, chained in the concrete basement. Mortals would be
brought in daily. The longtooth could feed until the dust had
cleared from his system. If not, Erte would have to bring out the
saber and slice off his head. He hated dust freaks.

“
You chained him up? But he needs to
go to work. His leader will wonder what’s become of
him.”

“
Bree.” Erte laid a hand on her
shoulder. The poor thing shivered and the skin around her eyes was
dark. She looked as crazed as the dust freak. That happened when a
faery enslaved a vampire with her enchantment. In turn, the swoon
from the bite was a powerful seducer. “Stay away from Rev Parker.
I’ll double the mortals to three or four a day. He’ll be over this
in no time.”

“
But he needs to get important
information to his superiors. I have to give it to him.”

“
Bree, if you go to the vampire now,
don’t come begging to me when he attacks and kills you. On second
thought, I won't have to worry about that, because you’ll be
dead.”

She nodded, accepting, but the shiver in her
shoulders made Erte shake his head. Poor girl, she was as addicted
as the longtooth.

He knew what was happening. It was all good.
And it sucked like no amount of dead dog could ever suck.

Bree must have hired the elf to kidnap him
and take him home. Chained in his own basement. How humiliating.
Yet, the mortals were serving a purpose by purging his system of
dust.

And of Bree.

He could feel his pretty, sparkly faery slip
further from him with every drop of mortal blood he consumed. He
hated it. He was losing her. But rationally, he knew it had to be
like this.

Could he ever have a real, honest
relationship with Bree?

He wanted that. He needed that.

No, you don’t need it,
that’s the addiction talking. You would like it. That’s
all
.

No, he genuinely wanted to be the man for
her. Intended? He was in for the ride because he did love her. At
least he thought he did. Hell, he needed to think beyond the
dust!

A third mortal woman was escorted down the
stairs. Rev strained at the chains. Her initial reaction was to
scream, but he was skilled at persuasion and it took less than a
minute to settle and entice the woman into his arms.

That he was being kept like an animal
reminded of his imprisonment in the sporting warehouse. He’d
brought this upon himself this time. No one to blame but
himself.

“
Bree,” he murmured as he sunk in his
fangs. “Come back to me.”

Slammed against the wall below her loft,
Bree’s teeth chattered from impact. The vampire Fernando Degas had
returned to torment her. Not only did he collude with the wolves,
he also pimped the sidhe into selling him their ichor. He, in turn,
sold the dust to addicted vamps.

Why hadn’t she the courage to tell Rev about
this immediately?

Because she'd thought with that
information, Rev might try to buy some of the dust from Degas. That
she would be leading him back to his
worst
. She’d been stupid not to believe Rev
was stronger than that.

Besides, she had led him to his worst.

“
You are pissing me off,
faery.”

“
Yeah? Doesn’t take much,
obviously.”

He slammed her again. “You’ve been talking
to my people, stepping over the line.”

“
So drain my ichor like you do all the
other faeries and be done with me.”

He hissed and snarled, revealing fangs.

“
Go on, dust dealer, I know you want a
bite.”

“
I’m not an idiot like your boyfriend.
I wouldn’t let a drop of ichor down my throat. This ends right
now.” He released her and stepped back.

Bree wasn’t sure why he wasn’t pummeling
her, or stabbing her with iron, but when the tall figures behind
Fernando walked into view, she let out a groan, guessing the man
wasn’t about to get his hands dirty. He’d leave that for the two
hulking werewolves.

Unchained felt good.

Rev's head was clear. It had only taken five
days of intensive blood donations. But it would take a lifetime to
stay clean. Rev wondered why a paranormal sort of AA didn’t exist.
They could call if DFA—Dust Freaks Anonymous. He'd be the poster
boy for possibilities since he'd now beat the addiction twice.

He knew well enough that was a crock. He'd
never actually beat the addiction the first time around. He'd risen
above it. Now, if he wished to stay sane he must remain vigilant
about staying away from the dust.

If being dust-free meant feeling powerful
and clear again, that was a great start.

Time to focus on bringing down the sporting
warehouses. He’d called Fernando, hoping to convince him to go to
Bree and try to get the information from her, but the guy wasn’t
picking up. Too late he remembered something Bree had said about
Fernando. He was involved with the wolves? It didn't make sense,
because he'd thought Fernando an honorable man, but he was inclined
to put more trust in Bree.

Yes, even after she had swept him into her
enchantment. He couldn't blame her for that. He should have been
stronger.

So it was up to Rev. Two donors this evening
had only temporarily assuaged the blood cravings. He knew well the
hunger would remain strong until he got into a routine.

“
I can do this.”

He knocked on Bree’s door, but it swung
inside; the latch hadn't been secured.

That wasn’t good.

Stepping inside, he scented the acrid odor
of dust. It smelled off, not sweet and attractive like he was
accustomed to. It didn’t appeal at all. That was either very good
or—

“
What the hell?”

He raced across the flat to Bree’s bed.
Sprawled upon the rumpled purple silk, lay a tattered faery. Her
wrists were encircled with iron manacles yet she was not chained to
anything.

“
Oh, Bree.”

He couldn’t touch.

He had to touch.

His fingers shook over the scatter of
tangled pale hair that sparkled with her innate dust.

He couldn’t do this alone so he tugged out
his cell phone. Searching the phone’s call list, Rev found a name
he had recently added. They’d chatted daily since he’d been chained
up to dry out and Rev had gained respect for the elf. He cared
about Bree as much as Rev did.

He hit the call button and Erte answered on
the first ring. “It’s Bree,” Rev said. “The wolves have been here.
She’s been shackled—hell, it looks like iron. Her body, it’s stiff
and her veins are purple.”

“
Holy Herne in a hand basket, sounds
like iron poisoning. Get those shackles off her right
now.”