Crave the Night (31 page)

Everything would be good from here on; she
felt it to her very wingtips.

Settling onto his shaft, she took his
thickness inside her, clutching his arms as the heady sweet torture
of joining filled her with a brightness she wanted to own.

He rocked his hips, working in and out of
her, and she moved in tandem to increase their rhythm. The vampire
and the faery had finally come together, and this night they would
form an everlasting bond. Her body shuddered above him. Rev sat up
and held her against him as she slid up and down, increasing the
friction, working them both toward an edge.

So close, she would not resist the fall into
bliss. A burst of red violet light shimmered out from Bree's wings
and she closed them about her lover's body. Wrapped within her
gossamer embrace, Rev surrendered to an orgasm of dust, touch and
sensation. They two, together, fell. Deeply, endlessly, flailing
through time and belief and everything else that complicated this
realm. This climax was pure and bright and like nothing she had
ever known. They bonded, skin to skin, pulse to pulse, trust to
trust.

They both cried out and then wrapped
themselves tight about the other. The world fell away. Two
heartbeats reigned.

“
I didn’t know that would happen," he
said. "The elf implied, but didn't explain. Hell, Bree, that was
better than…”

“
If you had a choice,” she whispered
against his mouth, “would you rather get your high from dust, or
from making love to me?”

“
You have to ask? Bree, I love you. I
want to make love to you every day. But touching your wings? Who
would have thought?”

She wrapped her wings about his shoulders.
“Thanks for bringing me back, lover.” She kissed him deep and long
and forever. “We’ve got to stop doing this.”

“
Rescuing each other?”

“
Seriously. It could get old after a
while.”

“
Not if it means coming back to life
to be in your arms. It’s like you pulled me through the craving and
beyond to something so amazing.”

“
We’ve only begun, lover.”

"Does that mean we bonded? That I'm
yours?"

"If you'll have me."

"You don't even have to ask."

"Maybe when a vampire bonds with a faery he
loses the vicious addiction to dust? It has to be. The world would
not give me my Intended if he were bad for me. I have to believe
that."

"So I could touch you and not…? I'd give
anything for that."

"I'm not sure about you drinking my ichor
though."

"I'll be good," he said and kissed her neck.
"Mortal blood from here on out. I promise. So long as you take me
in your arms every day and make love with me."

"That's an easy promise to make. I love you,
Rev."

"I love you. We did it. Together. ”

Rev entered Creed Saint-Pierre's office.
Fernando Degas stood beside the desk, arms crossed high over his
chest. Tension spiked up Rev's neck at Fernando’s castigating
glance.

“
Glad you could make it,” Creed said.
“The informant has been useless?”

“
On the contrary,” Rev
stated.

Fernando fixed him with a steely stare.

“
Though some may find her more useful
than most.” He shot daggers back at Fernando. “She’s was
compromised by one of our own. Was attacked by werewolves as a
result. But I'm afraid the reason she stopped informing wasn’t
because of the werewolves but because of one of the Rescue
Project's agents. Care to tell us about it, Degas?”

“
He’s a dust freak,” Fernando said.
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying. The faery refused
information—"

“
So you threatened her with your own
brand of torture—dust removal by force.”

Creed shot Degas a castigating stare.

“
How many faeries do you destroy,
Degas, to get the dust you sell to the freaks like me?”

“
You took the assignment,” Creed said
to Rev, “knowing you were incapable? Under the influence of
dust?”

Rev wasn’t surprised Creed did not
understand. “Truth? Those months I needed to recover from
captivity? I was stoned out of my brain on dust. I’ve been clean
now, for…” Less than a few hours. “I struggle with the addiction
daily.”

“
And we sent you to interrogate a
faery? Revin, you should have said something sooner. You were no
man to be put on this case.”

“
Fact remains, the faery didn’t stop
talking because of the wolves. Degas wanted to drain her dry as
he’s done to dozens of other faeries.”

“
They’re worthless rabble,” Fernando
argued. “What’s one dead faery now and then?”

“
You’re dealing dust?” Creed beat the
desk with a fist. “Fernando, I expected better of you. You’ve
compromised this mission and the integrity of tribe Nava. Now we’ll
never get a lead into the sporting matches.”

“
Don’t worry,” Rev said. “The faery
talked. She gave me all the info she has. I dispatched a team to a
warehouse in Bloomington an hour ago. We should be hearing back
soon.”

“
Excellent.” Creed gestured Fernando
leave them. “Wait for me outside the door; this is not over. Close
the door on your way out.”

Expecting admonishment, Rev crossed his
hands before him and bowed his head.

“
It was foolish of you to take the
assignment knowing how susceptible a former addict can be to the
faery persuasion.”

“
Not former,” Rev said softly. “As
I’ve said, I fight the addiction daily.”

“
You in trouble with this
faery?”

“
Nothing I can’t handle. She’s good,
Saint-Pierre. I want her designated safe from harm.”

Creed crossed his arms and hooked a leg on
the desk. “Sabrina Kriss has always been under my protection. She
is best friends with my wife, after all.”

His werewolf wife.

“
Is it difficult adjusting your life
to encompass a breed you’d rather not deal with?” Rev
asked.

“
I love my wife, Parker. Doesn’t mean
I have to love all the other werewolves.”

He nodded. And completely agreed.

“
You and the faery, you
are…involved?”

“
I admire her. She is unlike any other
woman I’ve known. I love her.”

“
At the risk to your
sanity?”

“
It’s a risk I’m willing to take
because without Bree, well, she's the sunshine that was taken away
from me with the UV sickness. She gives me new hope, a reason to
want to be good.”

“
Never doubt you are a good man,
Parker."

Bree had said the same. He'd always toe the
line between addict and functioning vampire, but he preferred
goodness over another plunge into dark.

Creed crossed his arms and eyed him warily.
"Will you be able to function in your role to the project?”

“
I will. Sabrina and I…we’ve come to
an accord. She doesn’t want to do me harm and I don’t want her
enchantment. We’re working it out.”

“
How is that possible?”

“
There are some things more wondrous
in this world than faery dust. That’s all I can say.”

“
See the relationship does not
interfere with your job, and I promise I can use you, Parker.
You’re an excellent soldier for the project.”

“
Thank you. I will not let you
down.”

The Saint-Pierre mansion was decorated with
red and silver streamers and balloons. Outside, partiers lingered
around the pool, dancing, chattering and drinking. Bree nursed a
goblet of orange juice because alcohol did weird things to her
brain, and the juice had become a very useful item in her life of
late. She'd never heard of the ancient secret, but was glad Erte
had given it to Rev. She spied a sexy woman in bright red wig and
dashed over to hug her friend, Blu.

"It's been weeks," Bree whispered in Blu's
ear. "I missed you. And goddess, do you know how to work the
leather."

Blu tilted out a hip and slid her fingers
over the black leather micro-mini skirt. Thigh-high black stockings
stopped just above her knees with red bows to draw the eye up. Red
lace stripper heels finished the look. "These are your shoes.
Remember when you gave them to me?"

"Those shoes served me well when I
used to strip. Bet Creed loves them."


"He adores it when I poke him with them." Blu
flashed a sassy wink, then scanned the crowd over the rim of her
vodka martini. "So you here alone? Don't tell me things didn't work
out with you and your Intention?"

"Intended. Actually…he's here somewhere—oh!"
Embraced from behind, Bree tilted her head against her lover's
cheek and he playfully nipped the corner of her mouth. "Blu, this
is Revin Parker."

Her friend gave Rev a long and desirous once
over, and with a flirtatious flutter of her long lashes nodded. "I
can see why this one was worth the struggle. Nice to meet you, Rev.
I think we've run into each other once or twice before."

"Yes, but your husband never properly
introduced us. That wig is hot."

Blu, the biggest flirt Bree knew, took the
compliment with a mock curtsey and another wink.

"I'll see you two in a bit," Blu said,
excusing herself with a hug to Bree. "Does he know about the three
day sex rule?" she whispered and walked off.

"What rule is that and why don't I know
about it?" Rev asked, as he circled her waist from behind and
hugged her against his warm body. A slide of fang along her neck
stirred Bree to an expectant tingle, but he'd never bite her again,
and that was one rule they both intended to keep.

"It's a girlfriend's rule. One should never
go longer than three days without sex, if at all possible."

"Sounds too lenient to me. How about three
hours? When did we leave the house? It's been a few hours,
yes?"

She cooed and turned into his embrace to
kiss him. "There are guest bedrooms upstairs."

"I don't think anyone will miss us." He
swept her into his arms and carried her away. Easy enough, when
he'd already won her heart, soul and forever.

###

Patti O'Shea

The farther she got from the Tiki-A-Go-Go,
the more uneasy Nicole became. This late at night, the warehouse
district appeared deserted. She didn't understand why there were no
deliveries...unless it had something to do with the twenty-foot
tall chain-link fences topped with razor wire that surrounded the
buildings. She scanned continually while she walked, but it wasn't
the area near the nightclub that had her on edge. There was a much
bigger reason for her tautness.

She was trailing the vampire who'd
destroyed everything, every
one
who had ever mattered to her.

And Nicole had lost her quarry.

That didn't happen. She wasn't just a
vampire hunter, she was a psi tracker. It was her job to follow
vampires and discover where they holed up during the day, so that
they could be slain while the sun was up. There was always a risk
of confrontation while she followed one, but even at night, Nicole
had been able to defeat them.

But this female vampire might be the oldest
Nicole had ever hunted and they gained power with age.

She didn't have much information. That
bothered her. All she knew was that the vampire was using the name
Mary Beth Danner, that she'd recently returned to Los Angeles, and
that she was a cold-blooded killer. The other questions remained
unanswered.

Location of lair—unknown. Associates and
allies—unknown. Vampire clan allegiance—unknown.

She stopped short. Ahead, a gate hung open
on the side of one of the warehouses. A closer look showed that the
chain and padlock that had kept it shut were broken. They dangled,
nearly brushing the sidewalk.

Reaching under her black leather jacket, she
touched her knives—one wooden, one metal—to reassure herself. It
might be a trap, but Nicole had the ability to conceal her
presence, making herself invisible for all intents and purposes,
and she'd been using it since she'd found her target earlier
tonight.

Besides, the vampire had left the nightclub
with a human male and that meant Nicole didn't have much time to
think things through. Even now, Mary Beth could be killing the
guy.

The thought of the vampire taking another
life made Nicole's stomach roll over, and pulling her metal dagger,
she slipped through the gate.

Bright lights lit up the side of the
building, the loading dock, and the concrete that filled the space
between the fence and the warehouse, but there were still plenty of
shadows. Tightening her hold on the hilt, Nicole continued forward.
She reached the edge of the structure, hesitated, and then turned
the corner.

Nothing. Where the hell was the vampire?

"Behind you." The feminine voice came soft
and slow and laced with sarcasm.

Stiffening, Nicole pivoted. And looked at
the monster from a million nightmares. The human stood beside the
vampire, staring sightlessly off into the distance. "You can see
me," Nicole said and immediately felt stupid.

Mary Beth's smile made her appear angelic
and that was such a lie. "How astute. You're not powerful enough to
conceal yourself from me."

Nicole's jaw tightened.
How astute
must be the old fashioned
way of saying
duh.
"You knew
I was outside the club—the human was a lure," she said as
realization dawned.