Hotter Than Hell (37 page)

Hands in his coat pockets, chin tilted toward her, Nikolai’s dark eyes catalogued her tangled blond hair, camel coat, scuffed boots. Her fingers itched to straighten her clothes, brush back her hair, check for loose threads. As usual, he was so contained she longed to see him roughed up a little.

I suppose you learn a little self-control when you’re a Master powerful enough to rule Saint City. He’s the Prime, after all. We all live our little lives in his long dark shadow.

A few strands of crow-black hair fell over his eyes as Selene, impelled by the medallion’s growing heat, skidded to a stop inches from him. Her ponytail swung heavily, but he didn’t reach out to grab her arm and “protect” her from falling headlong on the steps. Her heart actually leapt to see him again.

Stop that. He’s not human, you know that, stop STARING at him!

Nikolai said nothing, the light stroking his high cheekbones. His mouth, usually curled into a half-smile, was compressed into a thin line. His dark, electric eyes flicked over Bruce, who cringed another three steps back.

Selene suppressed a burst of nasty satisfaction. Serves you right. She started up the stairs, pressing her left hand against the sudden stitch gripping her side. Her toe caught on the second step.

She fetched up short when Nikolai closed his hand around her left arm, steadied her before she could fall over, and let her go, all in the space of a moment. “Selene.” The chill rain-soaked air shivered under the word, his voice soft and irresistible. At least he didn’t have the scary gold-green sheen on his eyes tonight, Selene hated that. “Stirling.”

“I was on watch.” Bruce didn’t sound half so smug now. Of course, he was an accident, Turned as a joke or mistake; Nichtvren didn’t Turn ugly humans. It was an unwritten rule: only the pretty or the ruthless were given the gift of immortality, and Bruce was neither. Why Nikolai kept him around was anyone’s guess, and Selene didn’t want to ask. Bruce’s doglike attachment and gratefulness for any crumb Nikolai threw his way was telling enough.

Besides, if she asked she had a sneaking suspicion Bruce might answer, and she wouldn’t like the answer at all. Not to mention what she might have to pay for it.

Selene brushed past Nikolai. Her boots smacked against the cold, wet concrete of the steps. She reached the glassed-in front door and stopped short, digging in her coat pocket for her keys. So Nikolai’s having me watched. She filed the information away.

Her fingers rooted fruitlessly around in her pocket and found nothing but an empty gum wrapper. “Oh, no.” Her keys were on the table by the door at her apartment, she had not scooped them up on her way out. Just run right past them in her frantic dash. “Bloody fucking hell on a cheese-coated stick. ”

“You need to go in?” Nikolai’s breath brushed her cheek, the faint smell of aftershave and male closing around her. He was right behind her, so far into her personal space it wasn’t even funny.

A violent start nearly toppled her into the firmly-shut door. She hadn’t heard or sensed him behind her, he just appeared out of thin air. Dammit, does he have to do that all the time? The only place she could go to escape him was through the glass. She stared at the door, taking in deep harsh breaths and willing it to open. There was a quick, light patter of footsteps—Bruce, making off into the night. “I left my keys at home. Danny called. I think it’s a panic attack, and when he gets them he sometimes hurts himself. There’s an intercom—”

Nikolai reached around her, his body molded to hers, and touched the lock. The gold and carnelian signet ring gleamed wetly in the uncertain light as his pale fingers brushed the metal. He went absolutely still. The medallion’s metal cooled abruptly between Selene’s breasts, responding to the controlled flare of energy Nikolai was using. She could almost See what he was doing, despite the stealthy camouflage of a Master Nichtvren’s aura. The only thing scarier than their power was their creepy invisibility.

I really wish he’d quit crowding me. Her worry returned, sharp and acrid. Her lungs burned, the stitch knotting her left side again. Please, Danny. Please be okay. I don’t even care anymore if it’s one of your midnight games, I hope you’re all right.

The lock clicked open with a muffled thunk and Selene grabbed the handle before it could close again.

Nikolai’s hand brushed hers, slid over the handle, he stepped aside and pulled the door open. She yanked her hand away. He didn’t have to touch me. He did that on purpose.

“Thanks,” she managed around the dry lump in her throat. Stop it , she thought desperately, biting the inside of her cheek. The pain helped her focus. It’s only Nikolai. You know what he is, and why he’s doing this. You’re here for Danny, remember?

“My pleasure.” His eyes dropped down to the medallion safely hidden under her sweater. The metal flushed with icy heat now.

He’s looking at my chest like he sees dinner there. Heat sizzled along Selene’s nerves. “Oh, stop that.”

She stepped through the door, sliding past him, suddenly grateful for someone else’s presence. Her heart hammered thinly, the taste of burning in her mouth. Danny. Just remember to breathe, kiddo.

Little sister’s almost there to take care of you. “I suppose you want to come up.”

“Of course.” His voice stroked her cheek, slid down her neck. He leaned back against the open door, his dark eyes now fixed on her face. Selene gulped down another breath, her heartbeat evening out. The familiar bank of mailbox doors was on her right, and the peeling linoleum floor glared back at the dirty ceiling. “It is pleasant to see you, Selene.”

Nikolai cat-stepped into the foyer, gracefully avoiding the closing door. Little droplets of rain glittered in his hair, sparked by the fluorescent lights. Under his coat, he wore a dark-blue silk t-shirt and a pair of designer jeans. The shirt moved slightly as muscle flickered in his chest.

Selene dropped her eyes, turned away from him. Oddly enough, he wore a high-end pair of black Nikes. Vampire fashion just ain’t what it used to be. Selene had to stifle another mad giggle. Where’s the fangs and the black cape, not to mention the evening wear? Her heart sped up, thundered in her ears. God love me, I’m going to have a fucking cardiac arrest right here in the foyer.

“Well, come on, then.” She started up the orange-carpeted stairs, sidling away from him. Nikolai followed closely behind, but not too close, letting Selene take the lead. For once.

Given how he’s always going on about how I need “protecting,” it’s a wonder he’s letting me in the building at all. But dammit, if he showed up at the door he’d just scare Danny more. He’s being tactful for once. Lucky me.

Her legs trembled and she rubbed at her eyes as she trooped up the stairs. Nikolai made no sound.

“Would you make a little noise?” She immediately regretted asking. The silence behind her intensified.

“Danny sometimes has panic attacks so he calls me. I just hope he’s okay. He hasn’t left the apartment for years.” Shut up, Selene, Nikolai knows. Danny’ll be okay, it’s probably nothing. He just stayed out of his body for too long and had trouble when he came back, another panic attack and the numbness.

He’s okay. Be okay, Danny, please?

Nikolai’s footsteps echoed hers as he climbed behind her. That was a relief, but Selene still felt the weight of his black eyes as they reached the fourth floor. Her thighs and ass burned. Climbing stairs after almost-running ten blocks without rest was a workout she could do without.

Nikolai’s arm came over her shoulder again and held the heavy fire door open. The hall was dingy, most of the light fixtures missing bulbs, and a drift of fast food wrappers curled up from the far end.

Selene’s nose dripped from the chill. She rubbed at it with the back of her hand, tried not to sniff too loudly. Threadbare orange carpet whispered under her boots. The entire hall was so familiar she barely paid any attention. Down the hall a wedge of light speared through the gloom.

Danny’s door was open.

LONG JAGGED SPLINTERS POPPED OUT FROM THE frame, the door loosely hanging from its hinges. Lighter, unpainted wood peered through ragged vertical cracks. Oh, Jesus. Oh no.

“Danny!” Selene leapt forward just as Nikolai’s hand closed around her arm and pulled her back, jerking her arm almost out of its socket. “Let go of me!”

“No,” he said, quietly. “Let me.”

“He’s my brother.” She struggled frantically, achieved exactly nothing.

Nikolai’s fingers tightened, digging into her softer, human flesh. He pushed her back against the wall.

“Stay here.” He looked down at her, his lips a thin line and his dark eyes fathomless. No cat-shine in them now, either. He must be worried.

Selene’s lungs labored to catch even a small breath. Her back and arms prickled. “Nikolai—” she began, but he laid a finger on her lips. The contact was electric. Her entire body went liquid, a moan starting in her chest. Selene strangled it before it reached her lips, making a thin dry sound instead. Stop it, stop it, no time for this, stop it, God, what kind of a talent did you give me if it makes me feel like this? Goddammit, please, help me.

Nikolai’s skin was fever-warm. He must have fed, he was metabolizing whatever he’d taken that night

—blood, or death, or pain, or sex. Was it wrong to be grateful it hadn’t been her? Though God knew she’d done her share of feeding him. Being fed by him.

Danny. Selene tried to slip along the wall away from Nikolai, but he pinned her in place without even trying. He was being gentle, he could have broken her arm or put her through the wall if he’d wanted to. With hardly any effort.

He wasn’t human, after all.

“Move again and I will force your compliance.” Nikolai leaned closer, his lips a breath away from Selene’s, inhaling. Tasting her breath. Well, the dead do breathe, when they want to , she thought in a lunatic singsong. Just like the first night I met him . She hastily shoved the thought away, freezing in place. It was a mark of possession , smelling her breath like that; a Nichtvren didn’t get that close unless he or she intended to feed or mark you. If she struggled, his predatory instinct might come into play and he might well decide to sink his fangs in her throat right here.

So instead of looking at him, she stared over his shoulder. There was a spot of discolored, peeling paint on the opposite wall. Selene looked intently at it, her eyes hot and dry. She felt his eyes on her, waiting for her to speak, argue, something, Selene bit the inside of her cheek. I’m not going to give you the fucking satisfaction. Something hacked his door down, oh God, oh God. Oh, Danny.

The weight of Nikolai’s gaze slowly lessened when she didn’t struggle. It took everything Selene had not to move, to stay still and passive. I will not give you the excuse. Danny, please be okay. Come on, Nikolai, you’re so blasted interested in both of us, help him! “Danny.” The whisper escaped despite her. Nikolai took another long breath, leaning close, inhaling her scent deeply. Her knees went weak.

“Stay here.” He disappeared. Selene felt the shimmer of Power in the close still air of the hallway. To a human it would feel like a chill walking up the spine, a tightness under the lungs, if they were sensitive.

Someone without psychic sensitivity might feel a momentary breeze, a cold draft, a sudden flash of fear that would quickly be disregarded.

The shimmer slipped through the space between the door and the shattered frame. God, please, she prayed. Please, God. Please.

Always begging. They called witches like her—tantraiiken—the “beggars.” Always moaning and pleasing. It was hard not to, when you had a talent that made your body betray you over and over again.

Stop it. Think about something useful. Why was Nikolai here? Or Bruce? Bruce’s hunting ground wasn’t around Selene’s apartment building, at least, it hadn’t been three weeks ago, when he’d turned up…well, Turned.

Nikolai must have set Bruce to watch her. Why now when she’d known Nikolai for all this time?

Known might be too strong a word. You can’t know a Nichtvren. They’re not human, no matter how charming they can occasionally be. You’re food to them. That’s all.

Selene’s back prickled, her breath coming in shallow adrenaline-laden sips. Danny, be okay. God, please, let him just be panicked. Let him just be upset but okay. Or even just a little hurt. Let him be alive.

Caught between fear and excitement, Selene let out a slow sharp gasp. Her knees shook slightly, the outer edges of her shields thickening reflexively. The jeans she’d thrown on were damp at the ankles from the rain, and would be damp between her legs soon.

Oh, God. It was her cursed talent. A sexwitch didn’t feel fear the way other people did. No, being afraid just turned into a different sensation entirely. One below the belt, thick and warm enough to make her heartbeat pound in her ears, a trickle of heat beginning way down low.

The agonized dread spiraled, kick-started a wave of desire that tipped her head back against the wall, forced her breath into another jagged half-gasp. Any more of this and she’d be a quivering ball of need and nerves by the time Nikolai reappeared.

Goddammit, Selene, focus! She shook out her trembling hands; if she had to throw Power she would need her fingers. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She repeated the mantra, as if it would help.

Please, God. Please let my brother be safe.

Begging, again. Loathing crawled up her spine, mixed with the desire, and turned her stomach into a sudsing, bubbling washing machine.

The shimmer returned. Nikolai solidified right in front of her, a faint breeze blowing stray strands of hair back, her forehead cold as the moisture evaporated. Wisps of hair stirred at her nape. Her ponytail was loose.

He looked absolutely solid, real. Did his victims ever see him coming? It was like swimming with a shark and suddenly wondering if you’d cut yourself shaving that morning.

Selene met his eyes, tipping her head back. Nothing. She blinked, then looked at the shattered door again.

Nikolai caught her shoulders, pushed her back against the wall. “We will call the police.”

Her body, traitor that it was, understood before she did. Her heart plummeted into her belly with a splash, and the stew of desire and horror faded under a wave of stark chemical adrenaline. “What’s this we? What’s wrong with Danny? What’s happened? ”