Her Dark Heart (4 page)

The sun wasn't quite down all the way when Guinevere woke. But she sensed it was close enough. Blinking open her eyes, she stared at the grungy hotel room wall she was facing, trying to piece the last twelve hours together in her mind.

One of the first things she noticed was that she was under the covers. Sometime while she slept Trevor must've put the blanket over top of her. The second thing she noticed was that she was alone.

She rolled over onto her other side and stared at Trevor's space on the bed and at the empty room. She'd hoped he'd stay, but she didn't expect it. He'd done more than was necessary for her. Healing her, getting her to a safe place. What had she been expecting? That he'd fallen in love with her and couldn't leave her? It was ridiculous to even harbor such thoughts.

She sat up and stretched. Her body felt good as new, better even from ingesting Trevor's witch blood. Her finger played over the bandage around her ribs and she tore it off. She tossed the soiled gauze away and looked down to inspect her side.

Her skin was smooth and unmarked. It was as if she'd never been shot. If it wasn't for the slight raise of her flesh that she felt with her index finger she couldn't have even noticed any difference. Beyond that, there was no visual evidence that she'd ever been hurt. It was amazing even to a vampiress as experienced as she.

Trevor's blood was beyond anything she'd come across. She'd only drunk a little and he'd completely healed her of an infected bullet wound. She could only imagine what it could do if she'd taken even more. She thought he should bottle it and sell it. He'd make a billion on his medicinal essence.

Smiling, she pushed off the blanket and redressed in her bra and panties. She noticed Trevor's jacket then, hanging on the back of the only chair, and she slid it on. Had he forgotten it in his haste to leave or had he deliberately left it for her? She liked to think it was the latter.

At least she was partially clothed for the things she had to do next. She had several calls she needed to make and since she didn't have her cell phone, she had to go down to the lobby and find a land phone. Her staff needed to be contacted. She wanted to make sure they were safe and unharmed. And she also needed to secure her own safety. The only way she could do that was by surrounding herself with people she could trust. Unfortunately, she was starting to doubt that those people existed in her life.

It was clear that Soren would not stop until she was dead. And he would use whatever means were at his disposal to achieve his goal. He was obviously using someone close to her or she would never have been attacked at Sinsational. Her club had been her sanctuary, or so she thought. She had believed it to be the one place she could feel secure. She'd been wrong.

If it hadn't been for Trevor…

She pushed thoughts of him from her mind. She hadn't mooned over a man in many years, and she wasn't going to start now. She had work to do and little time to do it.

 

Trevor balanced the two scalding hot coffees and bag of croissants as he mounted the stairs to the third-floor hotel room. He checked his watch. It was past seven at night and he figured Guinevere would be rising soon. For some corny reason he wanted to be there when she woke.

He'd woken up over an hour ago and had snuck out to get some coffee and food for them both, and he'd also wanted to call his friend, Inspector Bellmonte, about the shooting. They hadn't arrested anyone, and were still searching for suspects. Trevor told him what Guinevere had said about her partner, Soren. Gabriel had taken it under advisement. And then asked whether Guinevere would be willing to go on record.

Trevor confessed that he had doubted it. He knew Guinevere had refused any type of police protection, but Trevor felt that she might need it in the end. So he had discussed it with Gabriel. It would be there, if she wanted it. Now, he just had to convince her that she needed it.

As he walked the hall to the room, he wondered why he cared so much. He'd treated hundreds of people, vampires, lycans, witches and humans over the past five years and had never gotten involved. Why now?

It had been the first time he'd been involved in an actual chase, but it had been the second time he'd had a gun to his head. He'd been around the violence of the city all his life, so it wasn't that it was a brand-new experience to him.

It was Guinevere that made the difference.

He was drawn to her. He felt her need for him. She was one of the strongest, most powerful vampiresses in the city, and Trevor sensed she needed him. That she'd felt comfortable and secure with him. It was a good feeling to be needed by such an enthralling woman. And the sex had been spectacular. He'd never come that hard in his life.

Did he think it would go beyond their brief tryst? Not really. Did he want it to? That was the million-dollar question. And he wasn't sure if he had any answer to it.

He put his hand on the door to open it, but paused. He sensed something was amiss. He took his hand from the doorknob and pressed his ear to the door. His hearing wasn't like a vampire's or a lycan's but he'd trained himself to really listen. He could hear things that most humans couldn't.

And he heard some of those things inside the room.

He could hear Guinevere breathing, but it wasn't normal. It was labored. Something or someone was causing undue stress to her body. He guessed it was a someone. She must've woken and called her people.

Maybe Soren had shown up instead.

Trevor looked down at himself. He wasn't prepared to take on a vampire of what he could only guess would be Soren's power. If the vampire had been Guinevere's second then he had to possess many superior qualities. Strength being one of them.

But he had to do something. He couldn't just stand here like an idiot with hot coffee in one hand and a bag of rolls in the other. Wait. Didn't he have something in his medical kit? Juggling the coffee, he reached down and unzipped his bag, rummaging around in it until he found what he was looking for.

He pulled out his hand. In his fingers he held a syringe. Inside was a powerful sedative that he'd used countless times on rabid lycans and out-of-control vampires.

Palming it, he opened the hotel room door and walked in as if he was just returning from getting coffee and nothing more. “I got you black, because I didn't know if you liked cream and sugar.”

Trevor had been right. Someone had Guinevere up against the wall, dangling from it actually, his hand closed around her throat. She was definitely having trouble breathing.

The vampire glared at him in surprise. “Get out! We don't need any room service.”

Guinevere looked at him. He could plainly see the pain and the anger in her eyes. Blood streaked the front of her body and dripped from the very tips of her toes to pool on the shaggy rug beneath her. It took all Trevor had, not to rush to her side.

Trevor set the coffee and bag of croissants onto the nearby table. “I'm not looking for trouble.”

“Then get out.”

He shook his head, taking a step forward. “I'm afraid I can't do that.”

The vampire looked at Guinevere and shook his head. “Is this your cavalry? A human?” He sneered. “No wonder you're so weak.”

Theintruder had to be Soren. Trevor could see the contempt in his face when he regarded Guinevere.

“You don't mind if I make quick work of him, do you my darling Guin?” Soren released his hold on Guinevere. She slumped to the floor, the mass of her red hair falling over her face and chest as she dropped. Like lightning he was across the room in a millisecond, crushing Trevor's windpipe with his hand.

Trevor's lungs deflated losing air instantly. His first instinct was to claw at the vampire's hand, but then he remembered what he held cradled in his palm. And instead, he flipped the cap off with his thumb and plunged the needle into Soren's chest, right into his heart.

Surprised, the vampire looked down at the syringe protruding from his chest. “What's this?” With his free hand, he reached for it, pulled it out and tossed it to the floor. “You're more stupid than I first thought.”

Soren squeezed Trevor's throat tighter. Black spots formed in Trevor's vision. It wouldn't be long before he passed out. He knew exactly how long a person could go without oxygen. It wasn't long at all. Human life was so precarious. It could be ended in a second.

And he wondered if he was finally going to understand that fully and not just see it on a day-to-day basis.

Soren's smile began to fade. His brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes. He started to lick his lips. Trevor knew that his face was going numb. The sedative was kicking in. But would it be fast enough? Trevor wasn't sure he had any more than a minute left before he was done.

Before Trevor could kick out one last time against the agony of suffocating, Soren was flying across the room. He hit the far wall, and fell to the floor, unconscious. Guinevere grabbed Trevor right before he could collapse.

She lowered him to the ground, and brushed a hand over his face. She shook her head. “What were you thinking?”

He could barely understand her. Her words were jumbled together and her voice was so hoarse, nearly unrecognizable. It was then that he noticed that most of her throat was torn open.

Lifting his hand he touched her on the neck, on the side that wasn't mangled. He licked his lips, trying to form words around his bruised vocal cords. “You're hurt.”

“It'll heal.”

He really looked at the gaping wound. He had his doubts it would heal properly. The damage was too immense. She could heal it over time, she wouldn't die, but she'd never be the same. She'd never be able to sing again.

“I can heal you faster.” He pulled at his shirt to reveal the bite marks she'd left on his lower neck.

She looked at them, then shook her head. “I've taken too much from you.”

“I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to.”

She looked him in the eye, to let him know the gravity of what he offered her. “If I bite you again, it will bind us further.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I realize that.”

“We hardly know each other.”

“I know enough that I want to know you more.” He smiled. “Is that okay?”

“It is more than okay.”

Trevor sat up straighter and pulled off his shirt. On her knees in front of him, Guinevere leaned forward and settled her mouth over his bite wounds. He sucked in a breath as she buried her fangs into him again.

Her hands slid into his hair as she fed on him. Trevor reached up and grabbed her by the jacket. He had to hold onto something, anything to keep him upright.

It hurt this time. The pain was sharp and searing. It surged down his arms, over his chest, to the very tips of his toes. He gritted his teeth and held on as it took him to a dark place.

Although she didn't feed from him long, it felt like an eternity to Trevor. Even after she removed her teeth from his flesh, he still felt an agonizing throb from his wound. It thumped just as hard as his heart did in his chest.

She leaned back and then touched his face with her fingertips. He met her gaze then lowered to watch in awe as her flesh knitted back together. He'd never seen it go so quickly. It was amazing, even to him, that his blood had that kind of power.

When no more blood seeped from her wound, Guinevere leaned forward and kissed Trevor. “Thank you,” she murmured against his lips.

“You're welcome.” Then he kissed her back.

And that's how Inspector Gabriel Bellmonte found them in the hotel room when he arrived to arrest Soren for attempted murder and assault.

As Guinevere stepped out onto the spotlighted stage, she sensed a difference in this evening's atmosphere It might have been the fact that she hadn't performed in over a month. Since Soren's attack on her, she hadn't been at the club much at all. When she caught the gaze of the man sitting at a table near the stage, she knew exactly why she was feeling so different.

She hadn't seen Trevor since their heated affair in the hotel, but here he was in her club front row and center, and smiling. She returned his smile, then as the white spotlight rose to meet her, she opened her mouth and began to sing, something she never thought to do again after having her throat nearly torn out only thirty days prior.

It was because of him.

After the show, she retired to her private room in the basement of the club. She sat by the fire in the hearth and sipped a glass of red wine. She'd shed her stage clothes in favor of a vibrant red dressing gown. Her feet were bare and curled up under her as she waited. She hoped he didn't make her wait for much longer. The last month had proved difficult without seeing him. She'd never pined for a man, but she definitely had been longing for Trevor.

When the knock came at her door, she smiled, then waved her hand in the air to swing the door open. Trevor stepped inside. The door shut and locked behind him.

Eyebrow raised, he glanced at the door, then back at her. “Am I a prisoner this time?”

“Maybe.”

He crossed the room. He didn't sit in the other chair but chose to stand next to her instead. He was close enough that she could touch him if she wanted. She wanted desperately.

“Your show was spectacular as usual.”

“Thanks to you.” She ran a finger down her throat.

He followed the motion with his eyes. “I'm sorry I—”

She lifted her hand to stop his words. “There's no need to apologize, Trevor. You don't owe me anything.”

He licked his lips, then said, “But what if I did want to owe you something? What if I wanted you to be angry that I hadn't come around or called?”

She frowned at him. “You want me to be angry?”

“No, I want you.”

“You want me to what?”

He shrugged. “Just, I want you.”

Smiling, she stood, so she was mere inches from him. “I want you too.”

He reached for her and pulled her to him. Bending her slightly, he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her hard. And it crushed her heart. Everything about Trevor Blackstone was potent.

He nibbled at her lips while he ran his hands up and down her back. “How long until your next show?”

“Hmm, twenty-four hours, give or take.”

“Good, that will give me enough time.”

“For what?”

“To show you a magic trick.”

“What kind of trick?”

He nipped at her earlobe. “The one where I make our clothes disappear for hours and hours.”

“Is there a magic word?”

“Maybe.”

With a sly grin, Guinevere took a step back, and untied her robe. She let the silky material slide to the floor. “Abracadabra.”

Trevor took in her naked form and nodded. “Perfect execution.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her to him, and kissed her again.