Fallen (Dark God Saga) (8 page)

His hands had just cupped her buttocks through the dress when she remembered herself. Here she was, kissing and being felt-up by a stranger, while she was supposed to be getting a good story for work. And that made her remember something else. She was wired! Thank God there was music playing in the background.

She pulled away, and his lips grazed her temple. Simone moaned. Oh. Dear. God. She didn’t know how much of this she could take. And the man hadn’t even really touched her yet.

Releasing a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. It was extremely hot in here. She was beginning to long for the chill of the air outside.

“Are you okay?”

She jumped, and offered him a shaky smile. The concern on his face only sent more heat through her already overheated body. Simone nodded hastily.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I-um-I didn’t eat anything before leaving the hotel.” Even though there was a twinge of truth to the statement, she was making excuses for the obvious. His kisses were making her lose her mind. She’d never kissed a man who could make her lose herself with his tongue and lips.

He stopped moving, and took her hand. “Come with me.”

Thanatos led her away from the dancers, to a dark and secluded area. It was the perfect little lover’s niche—if a person was looking for a lover, which she wasn’t. She repeated that over and over in her mind, trying to believe it, as he peered into her face.

“Would you like to leave? We can go back to the hotel and get something to eat.”

          She wasn’t even that hungry and the idea sounded great. Still, she couldn’t. Stupid Traveler. Stupid article. If she didn’t love her work, she’d quit. 

          “I can’t.”

          Instead of pressing her on why not, Thanatos only nodded.

          “I’m going to be here for another half-an-hour. If you change your mind, find me.”

          With that, he took her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed her palm. His eyes never left hers as he did so, and Simone felt as if a trail of fire was burning its way across her body.

          She watched him walk away, for what seemed like the hundredth time, before shaking herself and going in search of her story. The host had proved a good start, when he’d discussed how the Ball had come about, but there had to be other people here who could give her more details. As the fake vampire walked past her, her eyes followed him, tailored suit and all. Okay, then. She’d start with him.

***

          The fake vampire obviously thought he was the real deal. His name was Verenus, and he spoke in an accent so cultured Simone couldn’t help but wonder if it was real. It seemed a cross between the Queen’s English and French. And of course, she hadn’t recognized he was accompanied by other fake vampires until she’d tried to approach him, and someone had stepped in front of her. Bodyguard vampires? She’d found that a bit funny. Obviously the man was an important person in his every day, non-vampire life. By the time she was finished with him, she was curious to get to some of the more intriguing guests to see if they were all like him, faking something so well it seemed real.

She had a wonderful conversation with a strikingly beautiful woman who introduced herself as Persephone, beloved wife of Hades, God of the Underworld, and daughter of Demeter. Simone knew enough of her Greek mythology to play along with the woman’s get-up, and ask after both her husband and mother. Persephone had laughed in a musical way, and had then explained that her husband was somewhere in the vicinity, and so was her mother. The “goddess” seemed to find it humorous that both were at the same Ball, at the same time, and not trying to kill each other.

After her conversation with the intriguing woman, Simone was hit on by “Cupid,” whose bow and arrow getup seemed too small to shoot anyone, but who looked as she’d never imagined Cupid:
hot.
She’d always pictured Cupid as a plump, naked child flying around with a bow and arrow and shooting people for the hell of it. Oh no. This Cupid looked like he belonged on an Abercrombie photo shoot. He was tall and lean, blond and blue-eyed. The proverbial boy next door, if one lived next to insanely hot boys.

Although Cupid had entertained, the most memorable encounter she’d had, sadly, was with the freak who thought himself an incubus-succubus combination. Between his disgusting innuendos, and his lack of any kind of common sense, she’d just wanted to get away from him before she damaged his man parts with the nice heel on her flashy shoes.

          Luckily, Thanatos had appeared, almost like a guardian angel, and easily sent the pretend sex freak off with a glare and a few choice words in another language. Whatever it was, it seemed the succubus spoke it well because after giving Thanatos a series of angry glares, and puffing as if he’d do something, he finally turned and left her alone.

          “Enjoying yourself?”
          A brittle laugh escaped her. If he’d asked that ten minutes ago, before succubus-boy approached, it would have been a definite yes. “I may just have to take you up on that dinner.”

          His lips tilted upward, and he looked to the watch on his wrist. “Breakfast.”

          Jesus, was it already morning? She hadn’t even been aware of the time slipping away as she met the guests, took notes of the layout of the plantation, the musicians, everything. She was quite certain she had enough for a story.

          “I like breakfast,” Simone retorted with a cheeky smile. Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you were leaving hours ago?”

          Thanatos nodded, and his arm reached down and lifted her hand to rest on his arm.

***

          “I found a reason to stay.”

He had. He’d found himself watching the human as she flitted from guest to guest. He’d watched as she spoke to Persephone with a bit of trepidation, fearing that the goddess would say something about him that would make Simone curious as to their relationship, which he’d never pursued beyond friendship. He’d found himself smiling as the two placed their heads together and laughed like old friends. Even though Simone didn’t believe much of what Persephone told her, her personality was vibrant enough that she followed the “story,” even chiming in with her own choice words. And when the succubus had approached her, he’d been in the middle of a conversation with Verenus Riddilin, a business associate and long time coven leader of one of the New York vampire clans. Immediately, his hackles rose, and he cut short the conversation with the vampire to go to Simone.

***

          Warmth coursed through her body at his low and meaningful words, and at the way that those beautiful eyes seemed to be taking her in. Jeez, she really needed to get a grip on herself or she’d be giving up more than kisses to this man.

          “Shall we?” As if he needed to ask. Simone nodded. He’d had her at dessert. And that was weeks ago.

“Nice suite,” Simone said appreciatively as she stepped into the spacious hotel room. She’d thought that the Traveler had set her up in style, with her queen sized bed, what she’d thought was an ostentatious bathroom, and a room off to the side of her bedroom that served as her business room, the room where all her recording devices were stashed. But this room was just plain huge. She couldn’t even see the bedroom door, which meant it was around some corner. It was as if she’d stepped into his apartment, and not a hotel. “What is this? The Executive Suite?”

Thanatos appeared to contemplate that as he looked around the room as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. “The Presidential Suite.”

Eyes narrowing, Simone turned to him, only to find him smiling down at her, a wicked glint in his grey eyes. He was teasing.

“Okay, Mr. Aeron—.”

“Thanatos.”

“Thanatos,” Simone corrected. “I don’t know that much about you and yet here I am in your hotel suite, about to order breakfast.”

Something told her she should have thought about that before actually coming to his suite. She dismissed that sensible thought. Her instincts had always been great, and her instincts weren’t telling her to flee now. They were telling her to relax, and bask in the presence of this man because it might turn out that he was too good to be true, but until that time, she could act like he was.

“You know my name,” Thanatos began, leading her over to a plush, burgundy couch. When she was seated, he continued, “I own a successful business, and do well for myself. I’ve lived in New York City for almost ten years now, and understand why some call it the greatest city in the world.”

Simone smiled at that. She was a practical poster child for the city. While many of her friends had wanted to leave the city, to see something other than New York, she’d done her BA at NYU and then her degree in journalism at Columbia. She only left New York for vacations and work, and always returned.

“From the appreciation in your eyes, I’m going to guess that you feel the same way.”

When she nodded, he smiled and asked, “Was there something in particular you wanted to know?”

Unconsciously, her eyes drifted down to his left hand, searching for a band of any sort or a pale line that indicated the presence of one.

“I’m not married,” Thanatos said in an amused tone. “I don’t have children either. I do, however, have a twin brother in case you haven’t noticed.”

Simone clucked her tongue, and said in gross exaggeration, “Noo, you have a twin? I thought he was a stranger who just had this uncanny resemblance to you.” Despite the difference of dark and light, it was obvious.

Thanatos laughed, and walked over to the phone. “It’s understandable that you didn’t notice. We only look ninety percent alike. The other ten percent really confuses people.”

As Simone chuckled over their banter, she listened to him make a quick call down to the main desk. Relaxing in the chair, she noticed how his expression grew serious as he ordered food, meticulously singling out what they should and should not bring. He held the phone away from his ear, and looked at her.

“Did you want anything specific?”

“Food,” Simone replied.

Mirth shined in his eyes as he went back to the call, and then he was heading back over to her. Taking a seat, he looked directly at her. This close, she could usually see little or big imperfections on people, but Thanatos didn’t have any. His skin was a warm, even bronze—maybe he was Italian—and completely flawless. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. She looked to his eyes, trying to find a bloodshot, a red line, any imperfection. Nothing. Clear like a baby’s. His lips had no cuts, no cracks, and they looked both firm and soft. Simone almost shuddered as she remembered how they felt. Heavenly.

She became aware that she was staring at him like a piece of meat at the same time he noticed it. Blushing, Simone tried to think of something to say, and failed. Caught. If her hand had been in the cookie jar, she couldn’t have been more caught.

“Tell me about yourself, Simone Randall.”

Glad that he’d broken her moment of acute embarrassment, Simone sighed and asked, “What do you want to know?”

His response was quick and very serious, “Everything.”

Chapter Four

By “everything” he’d really meant everything. Simone couldn’t remember the last time, if there was a time, she’d confided this much information about herself to anyone. Well, of course Janet knew a lot of her history but that was because she was her closest friend. She’d just met this man, and already he knew what she did for a living, what her hobbies were, that she’d named her cat Misty because the day she’d bought her had been a misty day and the cat had been the only ray of light she’d seen, that her mother had died after struggling with cancer, that she’d never met her father, and many other personal things she usually kept to herself. And as she spoke, he listened. Really listened. No yawning, no coughing, no trying to kiss or paw at her. He just sat there, occasionally eating from the breakfast platter before them, and listened.