Ivan groaned. Damn, he was an old fool to fall for some beautiful young woman. His anger surged as he remembered Marcos calling him an “old man.” Why should he let them take the deed, as if he were some impotent old bastard they didn’t have to worry about pissing off?
They’d wiped us out, betrayed us, the bastards. No parley, no negotiations, just get out of the fucking way. That really pissed Ivan off.
He needed to curb his anger because now wasn’t the time to do something stupid. Stupid could get you killed, permanently. For all time. He snorted. Just a few days ago, he’d wanted it to be over, once and for all. Now, because of Annie, it didn’t sound so good.
But war? He’d had enough war, mortal and vampire, to last lifetimes. Damn, there had been a time when he could fight. He didn’t remember much of his first life, but he did know he’d been a soldier. During his early days, there had been many wars between vampire factions. Later, they’d gone looking for trouble, he and Dmitri, all across Eastern Europe.
He wondered if he still had it in him, still had the fire, the drive it took to kill, one after another, until you were knee deep in bodies and blood. All he’d been lately was a lazy, self-centered control freak too bored to do much of anything but order out and watch sports on television.
He tried to remember the last time he held a crossbow in his hands, drew sight on his target, and scored a perfect hit. How it felt to break an enemy’s neck with his bare hands, to rip a throat out with his fangs, and to see the terror in his enemies’ eyes before they died.
Long time, like Dmitri said.
There was no way in hell he could win this fight.
Just hand over the deed, walk away, and hope they all get out alive.
— • —
After thirty minutes, Annie stood, a new light of hope burning in her heart. They had three more nights. If she were right, they’d only need two. She grabbed the keys to the van and headed up the stairs, locking the doors behind her, and found Ivan sitting on the porch in the dark.
“You drive, Ivan. Come on.” She tossed him the keys.
“What’s up?”
“I’ll explain it on the way.” She opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. Ivan got in and fired the van up.
“Where to?” He backed out of the drive.
“That girl’s house. The one you kidnapped.”
“Why?” He looked at her sideways.
“Well, we need to get some phone numbers.” Annie’s mind was set as her plan formed.
“What numbers?”
“I want to see if I can find her cell phone number so I can contact her. I want her to help us, her and that big guy.”
Ivan pulled the van over to the curb and threw it into park.
“Are you out of your mind?” Ivan stared at her. “Those people are killers. Assassins. Why would they help us? They want to kill us.”
“They won’t kill us. We’re going to kidnap her friend, the one you saw, and force those two to help us save my sister.” Her voice trembled with her excitement.
“No. Absolutely not. It’s like handing us over to them.” Ivan shook his head.
“Have you got a better idea?”
“I’m not doing it, baby.”
“Then I’ll do it myself. I don’t care if they kill me afterward as long as Amy’s safe. You don’t have to be involved. Just drive me to her house. I’ll set it all up and go with them.”
“Annie, they hate us. No, that’s too nice. They loathe and detest our kind. They won’t care if she’s your mortal sister.” He tried to reason with her. “They won’t care if you’re killed in the fighting.”
She met his gaze and held it. “Do you care?”
Ivan leaned back and ran his hand through his hair. Annie smiled as she recognized his sign of frustration with her. She’d become good at reading him.
“Okay. I’ll go along, but at the first sign of trouble, I’m pulling you and me out of there.”
“Great! Thanks, Ivan.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his leg through his jeans. “You’ll see. This will work. She’ll want her friend back as much as I want my sister.”
“And we’ll use the girl to ensure they don’t kill us afterward,” Ivan added.
“Right.” Two mortal lives would hang in the balance. She wasn’t even counting her own life or Ivan’s.
— • —
At four o’clock in the morning, Fiona’s purse started to play music. She forced open her eyes and swore.
“My phone.” She staggered out of bed to the dresser. After rummaging through her purse, she finally found it and pushed the button, brushing the hair from her face.
“Is this Fiona Meadows?” A deep voice she didn’t know spoke to her.
“Do you know what time it is? Who is this?”
“Unfinished business, Miss Meadows.”
Nic stretched and sat up as Fiona shrugged her shoulders at his questioning glance.
“Sorry, I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The other night. Your performance with the sword. This is Ivan.”
A chill went through her body, and she almost dropped the phone.
“How did you get this number?” Her whisper was hoarse.
“From your phone book right here on your kitchen counter. We need to meet.”
“Meet? Are you crazy? You tried to kill me!”
Nic leaped out of bed and rushed to her side.
“I have killed no one. However, you and your boyfriend slaughtered eight vampires I knew. Who is the bigger threat?”
She held the phone now so Nic could listen.
“Why do you want to meet?”
“Well, it seems I need your help.” The tone of his voice told her the irony wasn’t lost on him.
“My help? Are you joking?”
“I assure you, no. You rescue mortals from vampires, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, as Nic nodded.
“Well, I happen to know of one who needs to be rescued.”
“And you can’t do this yourself?”
“No, or it would be done and I wouldn’t need you.” Ivan sounded pissed.
“When?”
“Tomorrow night. There’s a House of Pies on First and Market. At eight p.m. Just you and the big guy. No weapons. We’ll be in a booth in the back.”
“We?”
“Yeah, Annie and me.” He hung up.
Fiona looked up at Nic, her eyes wide.
“It’s a trap,” Nic declared. “Forget it.”
“I don’t think so. There was something in his voice.” Fiona bit her lip.
“He’s a fucking vampire, Fiona. He’s trying to root us out so he can kill us before we find and kill him.”
“At the House of Pies? When was the last time you heard of vampires attacking people at a restaurant?” She looked at him, her hands on her hips. “Besides, can you really take a chance when someone needs your help?”
Nic held her by her arms. “What would the Council say if they knew I was meeting with vampires? Consorting with an enemy that I’m sworn against? It goes against everything I stand for and believe in.”
“I’ll go alone.”
He must have read the look in her eyes and believed she’d do it. “All right. We’ll go. But I don’t like it.”
“No weapons.” Fiona raised her eyebrow.
“No weapons.” He made a movement with his hand indicating that he wasn’t happy with the terms of the meeting.
They lay back down, but neither one could sleep. When the alarm went off at six, Fiona dragged her body out of bed. The hot shower helped, but the hotter coffee was even better. By the time she walked into work, she almost felt human.
— • —
At two in the afternoon, Nic’s phone rang.
“Nic here.”
“Can’t help you, Nicodemus,” the voice said.
“Can I ask how you found them the first time?”
“Let me check the records.” Pause. Nic could hear typing on a keyboard.
“Got it. Anonymous tip.” The voice sighed.
“A tip? The Council of Twelve got a hot tip?” Nic couldn’t believe it.
“This was from a reliable source, one we’ve dealt with before.” The voice sounded defensive.
“What about all the hocus-pocus? Mystical signs? Stars in alignment?” Nic grumbled.
“Well, we use that too, of course. But there’s nothing wrong with tips.” Now he sounded huffy.
“Fine.” Nic blew out his breath. “Thanks.” He hung up.
“Do you believe that, Cho?”
“You should have asked if they have any tips about the horses at the track.”
Nic laughed. Then he sobered. What the hell was really going on?
“I don’t like this, Cho. This whole working-with-vampires-to-rescue-someone scenario. It stinks.” His face twisted.
“Then don’t go.”
“Are you nuts? Fiona would go without me.”
“Feeling a mite protective, are we?”
Nic frowned at Cho. Then he stood and went outside to run through his Tai Chi.
— • —
At six, Fiona showed up straight from work. Opening the door, she spotted Cho.
“Where’s Nic?”
“Out back, swinging that damned sword.”
“Thanks.” Fiona dropped off her purse, picked up her sword, and headed to the backyard.
Nic stood in a large square of manicured lawn, bare-chested and barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of tight, sport shorts that left nothing to the imagination.
Fiona froze. She watched him move in slow, precise patterns as he swung the sword. His body, muscles taut and corded, flowed through the motions of Tai Chi. The long arcs of the sword, slow thrusts, and fluid blocks had coated his skin with a fine sheen of sweat.
Eyes closed, he danced to some internal rhythm, one move flowing into the next, continuous, supple, and sexy as hell.
Unable to control her body’s reaction, a flush of sexual desire heated Fiona from the tips of her toes to her scalp. Even her nipples reacted to his slow, beautiful, breathtaking motion. Her juices flowed, and she felt the dampness from her core soak her panties.
I’m drooling. I don’t care
. Then she chanted to her own internal rhythm.
Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.
Nic twisted and turned, struck and blocked; each movement, each flex of a different set of muscles, wrung her sex tighter, begging for release. The urge to touch herself as she watched him almost overpowered her. Her clit ached to be stroked in those same slow motions.
It was relentless. Nic kept moving, and her body kept reaching for release. She’d never been able to come just by thinking about someone, but here she was on the edge of a major climax without a single touch. She let go of her fears and doubts about proper behavior and let it take over her body. Climbing higher, building deeper, her orgasm gave a final clench and then exploded through her.
At her moan of release, his eyes flew open and he froze. Their gazes locked. In that instant, she knew he knew what had just happened to her.
Trying to control her panting, Fiona took a deep breath and then advanced on him. Raising her sword to attack position in front of her body, she challenged him.
Nic moved into position, holding his sword two-handed at shoulder level. They circled each other in slow cross-steps. His gaze never left hers as he swung, she blocked, metal struck metal and parted, their swords cutting the air in slow, deliberate slashes.
He spun on the tips of his toes and she on her heels, their swords slid against each other in a long, metallic scrape. He stepped forward, she back. Nic twisted and bent back to avoid her strike. She followed through. Spinning on her heels, she changed direction and blocked his returning thrust.
They danced.
Swords locked at the hilts. Both leaned in. Nic outweighed her and had more strength than she did, and he could have easily overpowered her, but he dropped his sword and let her take him.
The flat of Fiona’s blade rested across his chest as his gaze drew her to him. Reaching around her, sword in hand, he pulled her close and leaned in for a kiss. She rose on her toes and tilted her head up to meet his lips.
Fire spread over her body in a slow burn as his lips found hers. When his tongue begged to enter her mouth, circling her lips and dipping gently inside, she groaned and granted him access. His mouth devoured hers, his tongue became his sword, thrusting in and out, and slashing across her lips.
She caught his tongue, suckled it, and Nic moaned. The vibration rose from his chest, passed through her, and came to rest in the center of her wet sex. Holding him close, she could feel his arousal through the thin, knit shorts. His hard shaft pressed against her belly, calling her core to accept it.
Raising his head, he looked into her eyes, and she felt the intensity of his desire for her. They were so close, standing on the edge, any closer and they would fall over. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and the longing, as he pulled away from her.
“I promised you, baby. We need to stop,” Nic rasped.
“I know. My head tells me to stop, but my body says keep going. I’m so confused, Nic. I want you, believe me.”
“I understand. I do. I don’t want to screw this up with you, Fiona.” He stepped away from her and lowered his sword.
She gave him a rueful smile and nodded. “Let’s go in.”
“Right. I’ll get cleaned up and meet you on the couch.”
“Great.”
They headed through the back door, Nic to the shower and Fiona to the kitchen. She fixed a soda for herself, grabbed a bottle of water for Nic, some crackers and cheese, and put them on the coffee table. He returned after about fifteen minutes.
“Glad you’re back home,” he said, popping a chunk of cheese into his mouth and then washing it down with a swig of water.
“Glad to be back. Did you get a call from your people?”
They sat at opposite ends of the couch, one seat apart, hungry for each other. A hunger that time apart and their sword dance had only fueled.
Nic laughed. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“Try me.” Fiona kicked off her shoes, tucked her legs under her, and got comfortable.
“Well, seems like the group I work for got a tip about the frenzy the other night.”
“A tip. Okay, I buy that.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of it before. It came as a shock to me.”
“How did you think they got their info?”
“Well, from visions, psychic readings, orbs, that sort of thing.”