The Dark's Mistress (The Saint-Pierres) (7 page)

“A rock star?  That is the weirdest thing.  Kam has never expressed interest in singing.  She was always interested in fashion and wanted to marry a rich guy and let him spoil her.  Just like my mom did.”

Johnny smiled at the wolf’s easy confidence with him.  The peek into Kam’s life warmed him to her even more.  But worried him as well.  She’d left her family for this?

“There’s something else about her…”

The wolf cast him a sidelong glance.

“She’s not in the right place,” Johnny said.  “Like, she’s in trouble, or something.  I don’t know.  She didn’t say that to me.”

But she had said ‘save me’ that night in the park.  Save her from what?

“It’s a feeling I get when I’m near her.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that, man.  Now I’m really worried.  This is a long hallway, and…”  The wolf stopped and looked about.

Behind them darkness loomed.  Before them it was also dark.  Johnny couldn’t see the red outlined door he’d walked through previously.  The apparition bodyguard was nowhere in site.  And it was suddenly tit-freezing cold.  He ran his fingers over his shaved scalp.  What the hell?

The werewolf tilted his head at him.  His lip sneered and he sniffed the air.  “Who are you again?”

“Dude, I’m Johnny Santiago.  A friend of your sister.”

“Sister?”  Malakai rubbed his chin.  “I…don’t think I have a sister.”

“But you just—  Your twin?”

“Twin?”  The wolf shook his head and grimaced.

And Johnny sensed something strange had occurred.  The wolf had forgotten about his sister?  And this never-ending hallway that led to a frozen Hell.  What was up with that?

“I’m not sure what I’m doing here, but this place gives me the creeps.”  The wolf backed away from Johnny, his palms up in defense.  “Later.”  He turned and loped down the hallway.

Johnny stood, mouth agape, thinking he should call out, but too stymied to do so.  What was the guy’s name?  Had he just been chummy with a werewolf?

When he swung around in the darkness he stood immediately before the metal-studded dressing room door.  Red light seeped around the edges.  The ghost appeared, smiled at him, and pushed the door inward.

“Something is fishy in Denmark,” he whispered as he entered the cool room walled in black marble.  “Kam?”

“Johnny.”  She appeared at his side and, still wearing the ribbon-laced demon horns, smiled up brightly at him.  She looked a pixy gone over to the dark side.  “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Really?  Oh, uh, last night I had this thing.”

“You don’t need to explain.”

Right.  But he knew when a woman spoke in that tight tone she’d just used he really did need to explain.  “It was a family thing.”

Something softened in her irises. 

“Family means a lot to me,” he said.  “I put them above all else.”

“That’s refreshing.  I have family.”  She tilted her head, as if wondering if that sta
tement was true.  “Yes, I do.”


Yes, she did.  Maybe?  Why did he feel as though he’d met her family, and yet—he lost the thought.  He wasn’t sure what he was thinking.  Must be the smoke from the club fucking with his senses.

“So you’re here now,” she said.  “What took you so long?”

“Well, the walk down the hallway was a mile long, and there was the…”

The…?  He’d been talking to someone not moments ago, but couldn’t place his memory to the face or even a name.  But that someone had been important.  Maybe?  Hell, he needed blood.

“And now there’s you,” she cooed sweetly. 

He tapped one of the horns jutting from her temple.  “Will you let me take you away from here tonight?”

“Like on another date in the park?”

“We’ll go someplace different.  Somewhere you want to go.  Have any ideas?”

“I do.  You wait out in the hall while I get changed.”

She left him standing before the water fountain that dribbled black water over silver fish.  Johnny reached to stroke the back of one of the koi and the fish snapped at him, revealing fangs.  He recoiled.

The foreboding promise of heart-wrenchingly emotional pain should he continue to see Kambriel seeped through his pores.  Indeed, perhaps even physical torture waited for him.

"Bring it," he muttered.  "Always in for the adventure."

* * *

It was two o’clock in the morning.  Exhausted tourists had trudged to their hotels and rental apartments.  Traffic had settled by half, but still the streets glowed with headlights.  Barges floated the Seine and a bonfire across the river at the Trocadero welcomed late night protestors.  Kam couldn’t hear what they were singing about from this distance, but she had to laugh at the Parisian’s insistent need for a new protest each week. 

The Iron Lady loomed before her and Johnny.  She stepped toward the daunting structure, spreading her arms out as if she could catch it should it topple.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the top,” she said, “but the lines and the tourists have kept me away.  And now it’s closed.”

Johnny leaned in beside her cheek.  His nearness traced an expectant shiver up her arms.  “There are no lines now,” he said.  And he took off toward the east leg of the Eiffel Tower.  “Race you to the top!”

Kam opened her mouth to protest then shut it.  Really?  She squeezed her fists together in glee.  “Yes!” 

They met at the base of the tower.  Johnny chuckled as he climbed the crisscross of iron, encouraging her to do the same.  He moved as if an animal comfortable with climbing. 

Kam knew it was the vampire in him—and her—that allowed them to move without fear, and with a surety of step that saw them both around the daunting two-metre overhang and up and over the suicide cages to the first level in no time.  Good thing she’d worn tight black leggings and a steel mesh top.  A dress wouldn’t have cut it.  Though her heeled boots gave her little trouble, and in fact, she hooked the heels in the iron crevices for good hold.

Gasping with elation, she met Johnny’s high-five with a loud smack.

“Think you can make it to the top?”  His eyes twinkled with a challenge no female could resist.  Because it was so much more than a dare to race to the top—he’d invited her into his heart.

Leaning out into the sky, Kam grabbed the outer side of the tower, swung her body around, and started upward.  The iron was rough and in some places sharp in her grasp but she didn’t care or take notice as she soared higher and higher.

Johnny moved beyond her, and then he slowed, and she was able to bypass him.  He was letting her win.  Not fair!  And oh, what a sweetie.  She caught his switchblade smile as she glided past him, and thought she’d not seen a more appealing expression on a man ever.  Happy to let her win. 

They reached the second level and didn’t stop, heading straight up the last and longest stretch toward the top of the tower.
              The upper portion served as a communications platform and was riddled with satellite dishes and radio antennas.  Kam navigated around them to climb to the topmost platform.  Once there, she held out her hand and Johnny took it, but didn’t use her strength to lever himself up because he could do it himself.  He was allowing her the illusion of her assistance. 

He settled next to her on a small steel platform.  Thrusting up his fist, he shouted, “Yeah!”

Kam wrapped her arms across her chest and closed her eyes.  The breeze swayed her body and swirled in her hair.  Felt ominous and so far away from her reality down below.  “It feels…”  Safe, was the first word that came to mind. 

Johnny hugged an arm across her shoulders.  “It’s beautiful up here.  Wow!  Look at the river.  It’s lined with faery lights.”

The buildings that edged the river flashed light across the Seine and it did look like something magical, even faery-like.  Seeing it through Johnny’s eyes gave her a new perspective on the city.  It wasn’t so dark and mean as she’d come to know it.

“Wouldn’t it be cool to record a music video while singing from up here?”  His enthusiasm rippled into her pores as if a warm summer breeze.  “Here’s to rock n’ roll!”

“Long live rock n’ roll!”

“You know, if you hang around me long enough, you’ll learn all my musical tastes.”

“Not all heavy metal and goth?”

“I have to admit, it’s not.  I grew up listening to Johnny Cash and Lynyrd Skynyrd.  Weird, eh?”

“Not at all.  Music, no matter the style, is life.  But let me guess.  Is Johnny Cash your namesake?”

He chuckled.  “Yeah, my dad has a thing for him.  Good ole dad.  Always walking around, singing about ghostriders in the sky and a boy named Sue.  Surprised I became a musician?”

“I suppose not.  I’ll confess to a few boy bands and an abiding love for Adam Ant.”

“Hey, ant music for sex people, sex music for ant people!”

That he knew the slogan for the 80s pop star was incredible and silly, and too cool.  The guy had some geeky musical passions, as did she.  That made him more appealing by the second.  Not that he needed the added appeal.

The tickle of skin against skin pulled Kam’s attention toward him.  Johnny traced a finger along the butterfly tattooed on her shoulder. 

“I used to envy the mortals,” he said.

“Why?”


“Mortals always want to be like us.  And now here’s where you picture me with fake plastic fangs and a lisp:
I vant to suck blood and have fangs.  That would be so vitchin
’.”

She laughed at his impersonation of a mortal with aspirations to become vampire.

He made show of tugging out the invisible fangs from his mouth and flicking them away into the sky.  “But I’m always like ‘You mortals are so lucky.  You get to eat food and sit in the sun, and have tattoos’.  I want my whole body covered with tattoos.  I think it’s an awesome expression of inner self.  Yours are cool, but I don’t understand how you have them if you’re bloodborn.”

“They’re special.  Gifted me by…”  She sighed and looked down over the buildings that resembled toys set on a stage.  No sense in spoiling the mood by mentioning the boyfriend.  Quickly, she grasped a fleeting memory.  “I used to want to be a werewolf when I was growing up.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. My mother…uh…”  The memory was blurry, but she managed to touch it.  “Yes, she’s a werewolf.  I wanted the fur and the shapeshifting abilities, big time.”

“I can’t imagine you with a furry nose.”  He tapped her nose. 

“Werewolves do not have furry noses.  They feel like soft suede and are really warm.”

“If you say so.  I haven’t gotten close enough to one of the dogs to study their nose.  But I’m sure you’d be a cute werewolf.  Your mom, eh?  Your dad must be vamp?”

“Yes.  And then there’s…”  Another close family member she couldn’t place a name to right now.  “Anyway.”  She scanned below, locating the right bank and the Champs Elysees lit up as if for a parade.  “My house…”  She followed the trail of streetlights beyond the circular street sweeping around the Arc de Triomphe.  “...is somewhere over there.”

“You live in the rich bitch neighborhood.”

“I am rich.”


“But you’re not a bitch.  You’re the Dark’s mistress.”

Kam sighed and softened her gaze on the river below.  She didn’t want Himself to intrude on this amazing evening.  “I don’t belong to anyone, Johnny.  Not in my heart anyway.”

“I’d like to win your heart.”

The elated confession startled her, and she met Johnny’s gaze high above the city of lights.  The wind whipped his hair across his forehead, as it did hers.  His eyes teased her to leave everything behind and jump into his world, his exotic, sexy, whirlwind of a life everyone dreamed of having, yet no one ever needed.  Because freedom was all that mattered.

Kam’s heart bounced.  She wanted to leap toward the man and his sweet confession.  “Most men would try to take my heart,” she challenged. 

“I’m not like most guys.  They’re a bunch of over-muscled, boastful, alpha males who, when they see a woman, decide they’re going to have her no matter what.  They take what they want.  That’s so not cool.”

“You don’t?”

“Truth?  I have a streak of alpha in me.”  He flexed an impressive bicep that, indeed, would look awesome inked in tattoos.  “But I don’t ever treat women poorly, especially not a woman like you, Kambriel.” 

Twisting on the narrow platform, he stood up over her, stretching his arms out.  To lean backward would see him falling.  “You know what?”

“What?” she answered breathlessly to the rock star standing above her.

“I want to become worthy to you.  Earn your interest, and maybe even your love.”

Wow.  That sounded so not like any man she had known in her lifetime.  Because he was right, most men walked up and kissed her and claimed her as their own.  And even the one who had only ever kissed her had indelibly marked her. 
Forever his
.

She wanted to be free to learn Johnny’s worth, and to, in return, make his efforts to impress her worthwhile.

“I want to win Kambriel’s heart!” he shouted, lifting his arms high and declaring it to the heavens.