Forbidden Nights With A Vampire (11 page)

“LaToya, cool it,” Lara whispered. “I’m in love with a Vamp.”

“I know.” LaToya grimaced as she tossed shrimp on her plate. “And now you want to quit the police force and work for that stupid vampire company.”

“MacKay Security and Investigation,” Lara said. “I can work alongside Jack.”

“I like Jack.” Tino stood close to the table, watching the women argue.

“Whatever.” LaToya drizzled hot sauce on her shrimp. “All I know is, I came to New York to be a police officer with you, and now you’re quitting. I might as well go home. At least there I wouldn’t have to deal with a bunch of creepy vampires.”

“Where is your home?” Maggie asked.

“New Orleans.” LaToya stuffed a shrimp in her mouth.

Maggie covered her mouth to hide her grin, but Vanda wasn’t that polite.

She snickered. “No Vamps in New Orleans?”

“Dammit.” LaToya set her plate down. “There’s no escaping those monsters.”

“They’re not monsters,” Tino grumbled.

“You’re right, sweetie.” Lara tousled the little boy’s curls. “They’re real people. And they have real feelings.” She gave LaToya a stern look. “You’re hurting Phineas’s feelings. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“All right. I’ll let Blackula know just how sorry I am.” LaToya walked off.

Lara watched her go, then turned back to Vanda and Maggie with a confused look. “That seemed a little too easy. She’s usually more stubborn than that.”

“Maybe she’s had a change of heart.” Maggie stood up to survey the crowd. “Where is she?”

“There.” Lara pointed to a bar. “She just picked up a Vamp drink.”

“Maybe she’s taking it to Phineas,” Maggie suggested. “It would be a nice gesture.”

Vanda walked over to the refreshment table for a closer look. “I don’t think she’s giving him a peace offering. The hot sauce is gone.”

“The red stuff?” Tino asked. “I saw her take it.”

Lara gasped. “I’ve got to stop her.” She ran after her roommate.

“We should warn Phineas.” Maggie searched the crowd. “Do you see him?”

Vanda scanned the room, then looked down when something tugged at her skirt.

Constantine clenched her skirt in his fist, his eyes wide with worry. “Is something bad going to happen? Why doesn’t that lady like Phineas?”

“She just doesn’t know him,” Vanda explained. “Once she gets to know him, I’m sure she’ll like him.”

“I see him.” Maggie pointed at the dance floor. “He’s over there by the band.”

Vanda quickly poured a cup of punch and pressed it into the little boy’s hands. “Can you take this to your mom? She gets very thirsty.”

“Okay.” Tino headed back to the dance floor, carefully holding the cup of punch.

Maggie gave Vanda an appraising look. “You really are good with children.”

Vanda shrugged. “Come on, let’s get to Phineas before LaToya does.”

She and Maggie skirted the table, but came to an abrupt halt when Corky Courrant made a grand entrance into the banquet hall. Her cameraman followed, the camera perched on his shoulder as he recorded the scene.

“Oh great,” Vanda muttered. “Who invited her?”

“She reports on all the big parties.” Maggie pulled Vanda behind a potted plant. “If she sees you, she’ll start screeching at you.”

“So? I’m not afraid.” Vanda moved back into view.

Maggie pulled her back. “She’ll try to provoke you into a fight. She wants everyone to think you’re violent.”

“I am violent.” Vanda stepped out.

“You don’t want to start a scene.” Maggie tugged on her arm. “It would ruin Lara’s engagement party.”

Vanda spotted LaToya on the dance floor, handing Phineas a drink. “Looks like someone else is going to ruin it first.”

Meanwhile, she didn’t have to worry about Corky seeing her. A group of well-dressed Vamps had gathered around the reporter, no doubt hoping they would appear on her next show.

“Don’t crowd me,” Corky hissed at them. She wore a glittery black dress with a low bodice that displayed her augmented bosom. The shimmering black skirt hit just below her knees.

Vanda recalled that one of the brassieres she’d sabotaged was black. And she’d altered some black underwear, too. She gave Maggie a sly grin. “Corky might be giving a bigger exposé than she planned.”

Maggie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Corky posed in front of the camera and spoke into a microphone, her voice drowning out the low roar of others. “This is Corky Courrant, reporting for Live with the Undead. Tonight, I’m attending the posh engagement party of Giacomo di Venezia, known as Jack to his close friends, like moi. Recently, some rumors have surfaced. I know the truth, of course, so I will confirm that Jack is actually the son of that famous libertine, Giacomo Casanova.”

Corky assumed a tragic face. “I’m afraid the other rumors are true, as well. It grieves me to tell you this, but Jack is, indeed, illegitimate. And not only is he a bastard, but he’s fallen for a common mortal. Once again, a rich and eligible male has brought shame upon Vamp society by marrying far beneath himself.”

“That’s enough!” Jack pushed through the crowd to confront the newswoman. “I won’t have my future wife insulted.”

“Jack!” Corky grinned maliciously. “How kind of you to grant me an inter—”

“Aargh!” a hoarse voice shouted. Glass shattered on the dance floor.

The crowd turned to see what was happening. Phineas had fallen to the dance floor, his hands grasping his throat as he squirmed in agony. Lara kneeled beside him, while LaToya hurried away, circling the crowd to reach the entrance.

“He’s been poisoned!” an onlooker yelled.

Jack pushed through the crowd to reach Phineas. Jean-Luc and Roman met him there. Lara whispered to them while murmurs of poison spread quickly around the room.

“We’re under attack!” a male Vamp shouted. “Sound the alarm!”

“It’s the Malcontents!” another Vamp yelled. “They’ll poison us all!”

Glasses dropped all over the banquet hall, the sound of shattering glass accentuating the squeals of fear. Frantic Vamps stampeded toward the foyer.

Connor blocked the entrance, his broadsword drawn. “No one leaves the premises till we find the person responsible.”

Vamps screamed at him, demanding to be allowed to leave. Others huddled in groups, shrieking and glancing wildly about.

Vanda shook her head. What a bunch of cowards. She considered going over to Connor to tell him what had happened, but noticed Jack headed toward him.

Corky positioned herself close to a group of wailing Vamps and smiled gleefully at the camera. “Pandemonium has broken out! I’ve never seen such a disastrous party in all my life!” She waved her arms at the scene behind her.

“Sweet Mary and Joseph,” Maggie whispered. “Corky’s going to talk about this for weeks.”

The newswoman gestured toward Phineas, who lay writhing in pain on the floor. “Will this poor Vamp die? Stay tuned after these messages from my sponsor, Vampos, to find out!”

“Can I hide here with you?” someone behind Vanda whispered.

She turned to find LaToya crouched behind the potted plant.

“Shame on you,” Maggie fussed at her. “Phineas is in pain.”

“I didn’t know it was going to hurt so much.” LaToya set the bottle of hot sauce on a nearby chair. “I just wanted him to leave me alone. And now that Scottish dude has the entrance blocked and I can’t get out.”

“You should tell Connor what you did,” Maggie said. “Everyone thinks we’re under attack from the Malcontents.”

“I think Connor knows.” Vanda motioned to where Jack and Connor were whispering to each other.

“Damn.” LaToya frowned at Phineas, who still lay on the floor. “I didn’t think it would hurt him so bad. I mean, he’s already dead. How could it get any worse?”

“We can be more vulnerable than people think,” Maggie said. “Poor Vanda nearly died the other day when a snake attacked her.”

LaToya’s mouth dropped open. “You mean, you two are…?”

Vanda gave her a big smile that showed her fangs.

“Oh shit.” LaToya rubbed her brow. “I’ve really done it now.”

“And we’re back!” Corky’s voice filled the room as she spoke into her microphone. “As you can see, the poisoned Vamp hasn’t died…yet. But hope springs eternal.”

“Miss Courrant.” Jack stepped toward her, and the cameraman swerved to record him. “Let me state for the record that this is not a Malcontent attack. One of our guests has accidentally swallowed a little hot sauce. That’s all. We expect a quick and full recovery.”

Corky eyed Jack with a dubious look. “And if it was a Malcontent attack, would you admit it? Tell me the truth now. Doesn’t your disastrous engagement party predict an equally disastrous marriage?”

Jack stiffened. “Of course not!”

Corky sneered. “The evidence is clear. Your marriage is doomed!”

Snap!

Corky jumped as one of her bra straps popped out from her bodice. She looked down just as the second strap broke loose and slapped her in the face. Her heavy breasts sagged down. “Ack!”

The crowd, which had been cowing in fear a moment earlier, now erupted with laughter.

“Stop that! I’ll see you all ruined!” Corky attempted to cover her breasts as she glared at the cameraman. “Cut!”

Maggie gasped and turned to Vanda. “What did you do?”

Vanda grinned. “I booby-trapped her.” She stepped forward for a better view. “And if we’re lucky—”

“Aagh!” Corky’s black panties fell to her ankles. Her face turned red with rage as she scanned the snickering crowd. “Someone sabotaged me! I’ll find out and make you pay!”

A strong arm grabbed Vanda and pulled her back.

She stumbled. “Phil! What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing, Vanda?” He glanced at Corky, who was now hurling insults at individuals in the crowd. “Don’t let her see you. She’ll know it was you.” He dragged her back.

“I’m not afraid of her. And where are you taking me?”

“There’s an emergency exit behind the stage.”

Vanda tried to dig her heels in, but her stilettos merely wobbled. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He shot her an amused look. “Afraid of me?”

“Hell, no.” Hell, yes. Whenever she was alone with him, she lost all self-control and ended up kissing him.

He pulled her through some swinging double doors into a deserted hallway. “This way.”

“Don’t even try to kiss me again. It’s forbidden. I could tattle on you and get you in big trouble.”

“Or I could give you such mind-blowing sex, you would beg for more.”

“Ha! I never beg for anything.”

He stopped abruptly and pulled her into his arms so fast, she slammed into his hard chest. The air was knocked out of her and her heart rate jumped into high gear.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against her brow. “Never say never, sweetheart. You like kissing me.”

“Do not.” Oh God, he felt so good.

His lips skimmed along her cheekbone. “You were forbidden years ago, and I obeyed the rules. I was young and foolish. Not anymore.” He nuzzled her neck.

“Phil,” she whispered, and pressed against him. He was so strong and warm.

“We don’t need the rules. We’re rebels.” He suckled her earlobe.

“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me. Now.”

He leaned back, his mouth curling. “Are you begging?”

“No.” She glared at him. “I’ll make you beg.”

He chuckled. “I thought I was. But first we have some business to attend to.” He led her farther down the hall.

“What business?”

He opened a door and ushered her inside. “Your first anger management class.”

“My what?” She gasped when she spotted her image frozen on a television screen.

“Good evening, my child.” Father Andrew stood next to a conference table.

Phil had shown her interview to the priest? How could he do this to her? Rage shot through her.

She picked up a chair. “You want some anger? I’ll give you some anger! Manage this!”

G
et down!” Phil shouted at the priest as Vanda hurled the chair across the conference table.

The chair crashed into the wall, denting the Sheetrock six feet away from Father Andrew, who crouched underneath the table. With vampire speed Vanda grabbed another chair, but Phil wrenched it away and seized her by the wrists.

“Let me go!” She kicked at his shins.

She wasn’t as strong as a male Vamp, but with her rage in full bloom, she was damned close. Phil struggled to hold on. He could always unleash his inner wolf and take her down in a second, but he refrained. She was upset enough already.

He pushed her back against a wall, pinning her wrists to each side of her head. “As your anger management sponsor, I have to say—”

“You’re not my sponsor.” She attempted to knee him.

He twisted and took it in the hip. “I have to say you’re not managing your anger in a constructive manner.”

“Let me go, you traitor!”

“Calm down and I’ll release you.”

She met his gaze, her eyes a stormy gray. She lowered her voice to the barest of whispers. “I’ll tell him.”

So, she was threatening to tell the priest that he’d indulged in forbidden kisses with his charge. Phil leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Do it. Then he’ll fire me, and I’ll be free to bed you tonight.”

Her breath hissed against his cheek. “Damn you.” She raised her voice. “I’m okay now. You can let go.”

He leaned back. “No more throwing chairs?”

“Only if you’re sitting in one at the time.”

He released her. “I know you’re upset, but we really just want to help you.”

She moved away from him, rubbing her wrists. “You call this help? The two of you ganging up on me? I hate this stupid therapy crap. You want to examine all my old wounds and poke and prod at them till they bleed. What is the point? It doesn’t make any of it go away.”

“Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away, either.”

“I told you to leave my past alone.” She glowered at him. “I trusted you.”

“Betrayal of trust,” Father Andrew murmured as he removed some papers from a portfolio and placed them on the conference table. “I think that would be a good place to start.” He glanced up at Vanda. “I apologize for the…unorthodox scheduling of your first appointment, but we feared you might refuse to attend otherwise.”

“You’re damned right I would,” Vanda grumbled. “I don’t need anger management.”

The priest looked at the cracked Sheetrock where the chair had crashed into it. “I disagree. Have a seat, please.” He sat and put on his reading glasses.

Vanda paced toward the end of the table but didn’t sit. Phil could feel the tension radiating from her. She was like a wildcat prowling in a locked cage.

Father Andrew made a note on the top sheet of his stack of papers. “I noticed you called Phil a traitor.”

She scowled at Phil. “He is.”

“After watching your interview, I can understand why betrayal would be a sensitive subject for you,” the priest continued. “Do you believe your sister, Marta, betrayed you?”

“I don’t believe anything about her.” Vanda strode to the television and turned it off. “She’s dead to me, just like the rest of my family.”

“She changed you into a Vamp,” Phil said.

“No!” Vanda spun to face him. “Sigismund changed me. Marta just bit me and drank from me till I was too weak to fight her off. Then she presented me to her new boyfriend like a dinner entrée.”

“You definitely harbor some anger toward her,” Father Andrew observed.

“Why should I be angry?” Vanda ejected the DVD from the player. “Marta didn’t do anything. She just stood there and watched while her boyfriend changed me, and our little sister lay dying in a nearby cave. She did nothing!”

“Sounds like betrayal to me,” Phil said.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Vanda snapped the DVD in two and threw the pieces at Phil. “Leave me alone.”

He dodged the flying pieces. “I won’t.” He strode toward her.

She growled and reached for another chair. He grasped it, holding it down, and while they both leaned forward, he engaged her in a staring contest. She arched a brow and refused to back down.

The priest cleared his throat. “I am truly sorry, my child, for the family members you lost. Do you know if Marta is still alive? Or undead, I should say.”

Vanda let go of the chair and turned away from Phil. “I don’t know. Who cares?”

“She could be your only surviving family,” the priest continued. “I think you should see her.”

“No way.”

Father Andrew clicked his pen and made a note on one of his papers. “I have a good friend in Poland. A priest who went to seminary with me years ago. I’ll ask him to check on the whereabouts of your sister.”

“I don’t want to see her!”

The priest regarded Vanda sternly over the rim of his reading glasses. “I have an assignment for you. I want you to give serious thought to forgiving your sister.”

“What?” Vanda looked at the priest like he’d suddenly grown two heads.

“How old was Marta when you fled to the mountains?” Phil asked.

Vanda gritted her teeth. “Fifteen, but—”

“She was a child,” Father Andrew said.

“And Sigismund probably had her mind under his control,” Phil added.

“I don’t care!” Vanda shouted. “She let Frieda die! I won’t forgive her. I can’t.”

Father Andrew removed his glasses. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean that you condone her actions. You don’t need to forgive her for her sake. You do it for yourself, so you can put all the pain to rest and start living again.”

“Why should I live when they’re all dead? Everyone I loved is dead! Next you’ll be telling me to forgive the damned Nazis.” Vanda ran to the door and wrenched it open. “Leave me the hell alone!” She ran down the hall.

Phil paused at the door, watching her. “I should make sure she’s all right.”

The priest sighed as he shoved his papers back into his portfolio. “Maybe we’re pushing too hard.” He stood and pocketed his glasses. “I was a bit worried when she blew up, but you seem quite capable of handling her.”

Unfortunately, handling Vanda was about all Phil thought about these days. “You gave her a lot to think about. Let it stew for a while.”

Father Andrew nodded and gathered up his things. “I’ll be in touch, then. Thank you for your help.” He patted Phil on the shoulder, then walked toward the banquet hall.

Phil took off in the opposite direction, hunting for Vanda. With his superior hearing, he caught the faint pattering sound of her high heels on the marble floor.

Then it stopped. She must have left the hallway and entered a carpeted room. But which room? Fortunately, he could also rely on his superior sense of smell. He followed the sweet, jasmine scent of her hair gel and tracked her to the end of the hall where the chapel was situated.

Tomorrow night Father Andrew would perform Mass in the chapel at Romatech. About twenty Vamps usually attended, more if they came for the free synthetic blood offered afterward in the fellowship hall.

Phil paused in front of the double doors leading into the fellowship hall. Vanda’s scent lingered there, as if she’d stood there for several minutes, debating what to do. He glanced down at the crack below the double doors. Still dark. With her superior night vision, she hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights.

He opened a door quietly and slipped inside. His night vision was excellent, too, and he saw several bare refreshment tables in the middle of the room and numerous empty chairs lining the walls. He scanned along the ceiling. No security cameras. Whatever happened here would remain private.

Across the room, Vanda stood by the window, gazing out at the stars. The door clicked softly when he shut it.

She stiffened but didn’t turn around. “Go away.”

He winced at the pain in the timbre of her voice. She was either crying or close to it. He moved slowly toward her. “I was worried about you.”

“You never follow directions, do you? I said go away.” She whipped around to glare at him. “I also told you not to snoop around in my past, but you deliberately went against my wishes. You even brought the priest into the act. How could you? You don’t think I’m screwed up enough? You have to expose my old wounds for the world to see?”

He stopped by a table. “Your wounds are deep. Even Constantine, a young child, could see it.”

Her eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their gray depths. “Oh yes, let’s help the poor woman before she goes totally berserk. I don’t want your pity, Phil!”

The energy from her strong emotions awakened his inner wolf, inciting a surge of power within him. Good God, he wanted to haul her on top of a table and show her how beautiful she was. He balled his fists to retain control. “I feel a lot for you, but none of it is pity.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Your eight years of unrequited lust. You want me mentally healthy so you can screw me.”

He clenched his fists tighter. The animal inside him urged him to jump her, but he was an Alpha and master of the beast. “Don’t insult me, Vanda. I want you to be happy. I want you healthy enough that you can forge your own future, instead of wallowing in your painful past.”

“Is that all?” she scoffed, then strode toward him. “Here’s a news flash for you. I can forge my own future just fine. I have all the confidence and guts I need.” She stopped in front of him, her chin lifted in defiance.

“False bravado,” he muttered.

She slapped a hand against his groin. “Does that feel false to you?”

He gulped. Her roaming fingers had quickly located his cock. Not hard to do as fast as he was swelling.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” She rubbed the heel of her palm up and down the length. “You’ve wanted it for years.”

He hissed in a breath. “I know what you’re doing. You’re avoiding the meat of the matter.”

“I’ve got the meat right here.” She squeezed.

He groaned. It felt so good. But he knew she was using sex to vent her frustrations and throw him off track. It was wrong. It was glorious. He wanted more.

She unfastened his waistband. “You’re getting so big.” She unzipped his pants. “What an animal you are.”

She had no idea. His inner beast strained to break free from the mental control he’d clamped down on it. How could he take advantage of Vanda when she was clearly desperate? What had happened to her in the past that she would rather throw herself at him than discuss it? “I think you should stop.”

“Make me.” She curled her fingers around the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down.

His erection sprung free. His inner beast howled. Take her. Take her now.

“Oh my.” She wrapped her hand around the hard shaft. “You’re magnificent.”

He groaned when her thumb caressed the smooth tip. Moisture seeped from him, and her fingers glided over him, slick and urgent.

To hell with being honorable. He’d been honorable for eight years, and all it had gotten him was continuous hard-ons and cold showers. So what if she was trying to manipulate him with sex? It would backfire on her when she became emotionally attached to him. He could use sex just as well as she could. He wasn’t that gangly young man with a boyish crush anymore. He was an Alpha wolf who had chosen his mate. Nothing could stop him from claiming her.

“Hmm, I bet you’re yummy.” She leaned over.

“Stop.” He pulled her straight and captured her gaze with his own. “You want me to climax, fine. But I’m going to do it deep inside you.”

Her eyes widened. Her heart pounded so loud and fast, he knew his suspicions were confirmed. He’d called her bluff and upped the ante. She’d intended to only give him a blowjob, thinking that would be enough to distract him. She’d wanted to perform a service on him, not get involved with him. She hadn’t planned on having her own body invaded.

Her false bravado kicked in and she lifted her chin. “Why not? It’s just sex.”

It was not just sex. It was a wolf claiming his mate. It was dominance and power.

His grip tightened on her shoulders. “Fair warning, Vanda. Once you give me your body, I’m taking your heart.”

She scoffed. “Fair warning to you, Phil. My body is all you’re getting. Now lie down and take it like a man.”

“I don’t lie down.” He grabbed her around the waist and set her on the table.

He removed her high-heeled sandals and dropped them on the floor, then he grabbed her ankles and lifted her legs so her feet rested on his chest. “Look at me.”

Her gaze drifted upward with a wary look.

Still gripping her ankles, he suddenly spread her legs wide. She gasped.

“Relax.” He rested her ankles on his shoulders. “Like you said, it’s just sex.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Exactly.”

He skimmed his hands down her shins to her knees. “I want to see your eyes turn red. I want to make them glow.” He reached underneath her knees and tickled the delicate skin there.

Her legs trembled and she closed her eyes.

“Lie back.” He smoothed his hands down the back of her thighs. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Stop giving me orders.” Even though she snapped at him, her eyes were tinted red with passion.

He smiled. “Sweetheart, if it’s not too much of an imposition, I would be forever beholden to you if you could kindly assume a reclining position so I can screw your brains out.”

“That’s more like it.” Her eyes glittered, bright red and defiant. “Make me.”

“Gladly.” He scooped his hands under her rump and lifted her hips up so suddenly that she fell back with an Oof. With one quick move he jerked her underwear down to her ankles. As he slipped the black lacy panties over her feet, he could feel how damp they were. His nostrils flared with the scent of her arousal. His erection throbbed in response, and he tossed the panties onto the table.

He shoved his pants and underwear down to his knees. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you? You’re slick and hot.”

Her feet pressed into his shoulders as she tried to wiggle closer to his erection. “Do it. Now.”

There was no way he was going to rush through this. After eight long years, he finally had her at his mercy. He’d make her scream, over and over again.