Kiss of Temptation: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 3 (7 page)

Merda
, he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Was it insane to think of nothing but fucking him over and over again? She studied his lean frame as he searched for his clothes. He was thin, but the sculpted lines of his muscles spoke of his underlying strength. The only criticism she could come up with was that he appeared too pale, like he’d spent too many days locked away from the sun. Perhaps they should remedy that with a nice vacation to the Greek Islands.

“Get dressed,” he reminded her again and pulled her out of the bed. He gently kissed her fingers. “When we reach my house, I’ll give you my map to part of the staff and you can thank me properly for helping you find it.”

A chill rippled over her skin, puckering her flesh. Was that his interpretation of last night? That she was using sex as payment for his help? She snatched her clothes from him and dressed quickly, refusing to look at him for fear he’d see the shame on her face. “I am not a whore,” she whispered to herself.

“I never said you were.”

She froze. How had he overheard her? Her cheeks burned and her stomach churned. “I—”

“I know you didn’t mean for me to hear that, but I did.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Forgive me, Daniela. I’m in a position I’ve never been in before with a woman.”

“What is that? Never had a woman seduce you to get something from you before?” Her words sounded shrill and bitter to her ears. His face darkened and she regretted ever saying them, even in sarcasm.

“Is that what this is to you?”

The low, even tone in his voice scared her more than any shouting would have. Her mouth went dry. “No.”

“Then why did you say that?”

“Because that’s obviously what you’re thinking.”

His fingers curled around her arms and he stared at her in silence for almost a minute. “You have no idea what I’m thinking,
streghetta
.”

The use of that one derogatory word hurt more than a slap in the face. Flashbacks of the taunts she endured as a child flooded her mind, of how everyone in her village avoided her because she was a witch. Images of the angry villagers calling her
streghetta
and dousing her with holy water flitted through her mind. Her parents were only too happy to hand her over to the red-haired woman who’d mysteriously appeared one day and offered to take Daniela away to a special school in America.

His grip loosened and his lips fell open. “I said something that hurt you.”

She wrestled free of him. He was no different than the others. No, he was worse. He actually made her believe he could accept her for what she was, only to throw it back at her. “As soon as I find the Staff of Octavius, I’m returning home to New York.”

He looked away, and she almost thought she saw a hint of sadness in the way his brow wrinkled. “That’s probably for the best.”

She didn’t ask for him to elaborate, although the question nagged at her worse than an itchy spot she couldn’t scratch. Delving into his thoughts would probably only cause her more pain. She didn’t want to know why he was rejecting her. The point was already clear. He didn’t want her at the end of this, and she needed to stop deluding herself into thinking there was something more to it than just great sex. Mind-blowing, hot, intense orgasm-producing sex, but sex nonetheless. It was just physical. No need to involve her heart.

By the time the train pulled into Gare de Lyon, she’d steeled herself against any romantic notions when it came to Luc. This was purely business, nothing more. He had something she wanted, and she needed to play nice until she got it. Once she did, she could deliver it to Morwen and take a much-deserved vacation from the Foundation.

Hundreds of people crowded the station at this early morning hour, many commuting into the city and rushing to get to their jobs. Luc kept a firm grip on her pack as he guided her through the masses on the platform and into the main part of the station. As intent as he was on getting her out, as soon as she saw a sign for the toilets, her body reminded her of its own needs.

“Can I please use the ladies’ room?”

“What?” He halted so quickly, several people rammed into them. His brows drew together. “Can’t this wait?”

The aching in her bladder screamed that it couldn’t, and she shook her head. “I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed but swept his arm in the direction of the ladies’ room. “Two minutes.”

“Give me a break—I’ve been holding it in since before dinner.” Who did he think he was, ordering her around and making a big deal about allowing her to take care of her most basic of human needs? Even after she relieved herself, she lingered in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips looked swollen and redder than usual. But then, she’d been kissed more in the last couple of days than she had in the last year.

She fluffed her hair, taking her time to show Luc he wasn’t the boss of her.

“Enjoying yourself, little witch?” a woman’s voice said behind her.

Merda!
Colette had used her lack of a reflection to sneak up on her. She took a calming breath, hoping the vampire couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart. “I’d be better if you were dead.”

“Wrong answer.”

A hand fisted itself in Daniela’s hair and rammed her head into the mirror. Glass shattered around her, and a warm liquid trickled down her cheek. She blocked out the throbbing pain in her temple and focused on gathering her magic. A flash of red erupted from her fingertips and Colette yelped, releasing Daniela in the process. A second spell sent the vampire flying into an empty stall.

Daniela pressed her hand to her head to staunch the bleeding. “This morning is already off to a splendid start.”

“Your loyalty to Morwen is almost heartbreaking to watch.” She staggered to her feet and wiped the blood from her nose. “She’ll betray you in the end, just like she did me. Once she has what she wants, she’ll leave you to die.”

Could Colette be telling the truth? Ice threaded her veins and threatened to freeze the air in her lungs. She felt like she was standing in an industrial freezer rather than a bathroom. At first, Daniela blamed her fear. Then she spotted the faint silver light pulsating from her adversary’s hands. Another spell.

She called on fire, her strongest element, and two flames appeared in her palms. “I’m growing tired of your lies.”

Colette laughed. “I speak the truth. Ask Morwen. Ask her how she abandoned me to the Nazis so she could save her own skin. And once you learn the truth about her, you’ll see that everything she stands for is just a sham.”

Her breath hitched. What if she was telling the truth? Something about Morwen never sat well with her, even though she considered her a close friend. The Head Witch kept more secrets than she could possibly imagine, but was treachery one of them?

Colette took a step toward her, undaunted by the dancing flames. “Tell me where the Staff of Octavius is and I’ll let you live, which is more than Morwen or Père Luc can promise you.”

At the mention of Luc, her heart wrenched. Was he part of Morwen’s plan?

Something slammed into the other side of the ladies’ room door and she snapped her head in that direction. Colette saw her distraction and lunged at Daniela, her eyes glowing bright with the feeding frenzy and her fangs bared.

Instinct took over, and Daniela launched the two balls of fire at the vampire. A high-pitched scream echoed off the porcelain surfaces of the sinks and toilets. She barely had time to gather another spell before Colette doused the flames and attacked again. This time, she managed to hurl her enemy at the radiator. A hiss of smoke exploded from the resulting broken pipe, and the smell of gas filled the room.

“Daniela,” Luc’s voice called from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of another thump.

An evil grin curled Colette’s lips. “I brought reinforcements, little witch, especially after your bodyguard’s demonstration at Termini. Tell me what I want to know or you’ll both die.”

The air wavered as gas filled the room, and she backed away toward the door, reaching for her rucksack without taking her eyes off of her opponent. She could end this—end all of this—now. Without Colette, Marcellus wouldn’t be able to use the Staff of Octavius. Only a true witch could wield its powers. But if she cast a fire spell, what were her chances of survival?

“I see the fear churning in your eyes. What are you planning?” Colette lowered into a crouch, ready to spring for the next attack. “Tell me where it is and we’ll leave you and your bodyguard alone.”

“Or I end this now.” Flames sparked from Daniela’s fingers and grew into balls of fire.

Colette’s eyes widened. “You’re mad!” she gasped when the flame raced toward the gas leak behind her. The vampire’s mouth hanging open in shock was the last thing Daniela saw before the explosion hurled her through the door.

One vampire, Luc could handle. Two took a bit of strategy, but he had years of experience over the vampires standing in front of him. Unfortunately, there were more than just two.

All four vampires pounced on him seconds after Daniela disappeared into the ladies’ room. While he fought them off, Colette strolled past them as if nothing was amiss. Fear for Daniela’s safety tore his concentration from the fight and earned him a bloody lip.

One of them slammed his back against the door and peered at Luc’s face. “Well, well, mates, lookie what we have here. A traitor to his own kind.”

“I never wanted to be one of you,” Luc growled right before he punched the Cockney vampire in the face. One of them caught their friend while the other two attacked. Luc fought to stay in control, but he could feel the bruises erupting on his face.

The sound of something crashing into metal came from inside the ladies’ room, and he shook off his attacker. He had to get her out of there before Colette drained her dry. An ache sharper than any dagger wound formed where his long-dead heart now beat. “Daniela,” he called.

No answer came, and the ache intensified.

An arm clamped around his throat, pulling him away from her. His muscles strained against his captor. Something boiled deep inside him that he hadn’t felt in centuries—pure rage. He let the beast inside him seize control, determined to tear his enemies to shreds, all in the hope he could rescue the seductive witch who made him more alive than he had been in centuries.

Luc dug his fingers into his attacker’s arm and yanked. The sound of bones and sinew ripping rose over the pounding of his heart. Foul-smelling blood squirted into his eyes. He hurled the severed arm at the other three vampires and braced for the next attack.

None of them moved. Their mouths hung open in shocked silence while their friend bled out onto the station floor. The crowd that gathered around the fight started to scream and disperse in panic.

After he realized the other vampires wouldn’t challenge him, he spun on his heel. He needed to rescue Daniela.

The door flung open, followed by Daniela and a ball of fire. He caught her and curled his body around her, trying to shield her from the explosion.

Screams filled the train station, followed by cries of “bomb!” He gathered her into his arms and ran toward the Metro, ignoring the shocked expressions of the humans surrounding him.

“Luc,” Daniela moaned and wriggled against him.

Relief flooded his veins, cooling the rage that had burned inside him moments before. She was still alive. “Don’t move unless you want me to drop you.”

“You’re running so fast, I’m going to be sick.”

If he wasn’t racing to reach the Number 12 Metro train, he would have laughed. When they got someplace safe, he’d convince her it was all a dream, or perhaps blame it on a bump on her head. Anything but the truth. Now more than ever, he needed to make sure she didn’t associate him with Colette and her henchmen. He wasn’t a monster, no matter what had just happened.

They slid into the train as the warning bells sounded. He found an empty seat and sank into it, holding her close. Her fingers fisted into his shirt. Her warm breath tickled the side of his neck. Once again, they’d managed to escape, and he resolved to take better care of her in the future. She wouldn’t leave his sight.

When the train jerked into motion, he drew in a deep breath. That’s when the smell hit him. Sweet and rich and oh-so tempting. Her blood. His fangs elongated and his cock stiffened. He wanted her—all of her—and the feeling intensified with every beat of his heart. He had to get away from her before he…

The image of her pale face frozen in death flashed in front of his eyes. Luc tossed her out of his arms and retreated to the other side of the car. He needed as much distance between them as he could manage without jumping through the window onto the tracks below.

The second’s worth of shock in her expression faded into concern. “What’s wrong, Luc?”

The skin on his face felt too tight, like it belonged to a much smaller man and had been overstretched to fit his skull. Blood trickled down her face onto her clothes, pulling at him stronger than anything he’d ever known. His mouth grew dry, and he knew the only thing that could quench his thirst was flowing right in front of him. He pressed himself into the corner. “Blood,” he rasped.

Her eyes widened and sweat beaded along his forehead.
Mon Dieu
, had he just revealed what he was to her?

“Does the sight of it make you ill?” she asked, her voice sounding so innocent, so unaware of his struggle not to sink his fangs into her and draw out every precious drop.

He nodded. Yes, it made him ill. It turned him into the monster he feared becoming.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a knitted cap. As she gathered her hair and tucked it into the cap, the evidence of her injury became less obvious. Then she turned her jacket inside out so the only blood he saw was what coated the side of her face. “Is that better?”

He leaned over and buried his face between his knees. He may not see it anymore, but he could still smell it. Maple sugar and vanilla, with a hint of bourbon. So sweet, he could almost taste it. His stomach rolled.