Moonlight and Diamonds & The Vampire's Fall (8 page)

“Thought it was a vamp thing,” Stryke said and his hand glided up Blyss's back. “Speaking of eating... Want to find something to munch on?”

“Sure.”

The food table was covered in red linen and sparkled with silver candelabras laden with more of the black roses. Stryke popped various hors d'oeuvres into his mouth, while Blyss managed a crunchy bit of toast with caviar. She wasn't hungry. In fact, her stomach was churning. When would Stryke introduce her to Vail? Only then could she leave this crowd of misfits behind.

“Rhys!” Stryke chewed the last of a cherry tart, then introduced Blyss to a handsome Frenchman with salt-and-pepper hair and a generous smile. “Rhys Hawkes is the groom's grandfather,” Stryke explained, “and he's been giving me some work to do while I'm in town.”

“Hawkes Associates,” Rhys said as he shook Blyss's hand. Of all the people she had met tonight, he felt the most grounded and sincere. Truth in his eyes. But what was his truth? Werewolf? Vampire? “And you are?”

“I'm sorry,” Stryke said. “This is Blyss Sauveterre.”

“Is that so?” Rhys's smile was warmly reassuring. “Isn't your family with the Valoir pack?”

Blyss tightened her jaw, but quickly softened it. “Yes, of course.”

“Excellent. That pack is well regarded in my book. Listen, I hate to be quick, but I'm getting the wink from my wife across the room. Viviane adores this song. Johnny wrote it for her. Time to dance.”

“So you do have a pack,” Stryke commented as they again wove through the crowd of black ties and silk-and-satin gowns. “Valoir, eh? You've been hush-hush about, er, things, so I didn't want to press.”

“I'm no longer with the pack,” she commented and set her empty goblet on a passing tray. “I'm going to look for the ladies' room, if you don't mind?”

“Sure. But you look perfect.”

“Just a little touch-up. You know we girls can't make it through any event without primping,” she said and walked away as quickly as she could.

If she had been forced to converse further about her pack, Blyss would have had to confess more than just her absence from Valoir. She wasn't prepared to do that. And she wouldn't need to, if she could find the vampire Vail, who had loaned Stryke the suit. Pray, the vampire was wearing that very suit this evening.

Weaving through the crowd, using her clutch purse as a shield she held in front of her chest, she almost walked right into a tall, broad red-haired man who turned and caught his hands against her shoulders. “Sorry, lady. Wow.”

He stepped back to look her over, running a hand over his tousle of hair. “You here all alone, pretty lady?”

“I'm with Stryke Saint-Pierre,” she said, with the intention of swiftly bypassing him and avoiding conversation, but he caught her about the waist and spun her around.

“So you're the glamour girl Stryke caught? My father mentioned he was looking to hook up with a wolf. You are so pretty.” He blatantly sniffed the air between them. “Would have never guessed you for wolf, though.”

She managed a smile and shrugged out of his grasp.

“Sorry.” He offered his hand to shake. “Trystan Hawkes. Father of two eligible werewolf daughters and trying to protect the hell out of them tonight with all the single young wolves stalking the crowd.”

“A doting father. Always refreshing. I was heading that way. If you'll excuse me.”

She made a dash and almost cleared the ballroom with the hallway in sight when a gaggle of giggling bridesmaids scurried up behind her. Red skirts swishing, they rushed on their stilettos toward the same door she had spied.

“Sorry!” a woman with braided pink hair called back. “Emergency pee break!”

Blyss paused and pressed a shoulder against a cool marble column. A tuft of red chiffon dusted her head. The black roses had no scent. She didn't need the facilities, and the privacy she had been seeking would not be found in the ladies' room.

Sighing heavily, she turned to face a man who gave new meaning to
sexy
. He was tall, dark and dressed in black velvet, and silver rings glinted on his fingers as well as diamonds in both his ears. His eyes were black and his smile was slightly crooked. He'd flipped his hair back in a rock-star swoop and his smile made her want to fall to her knees and sigh in adoration.

Had to be vampire. He wore the dark, fanged vibe so well.

“Vaillant,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

Blyss shook and told him her name. “I'm here with Stryke Saint-Pierre,” she provided weakly. “Wait. Vaillant? Are you Vail? The father of the groom?”

“Ch-yeah. So you've heard about me? Makes sense. Why is such a gorgeous catch as you hanging out all by yourself? Isn't Stryke taking care of you?”

“I needed to catch a breath of air away from the crowd,” she offered. Assuming a modicum of cool, Blyss set back her shoulders and traced a finger down the front of Vail's suit. “This is nice.” Yet the lapels were velvet.

Not the suit she needed.

“Thanks. Black's my color.”

“The suit you loaned Stryke the other evening was classy, as well.”

“Yep. Zegna all the way.”

“I had thought you'd wear it tonight.”

“No, I gotta bring out the romantic stuff for the big event.” He tilted a shoulder forward and Blyss then noticed the silver studs spiking up as if a warrior's armor. “My wife loves it when I work the rock-star vibe.”

Blyss pulled her hand away from the velvet. Wife. Of course. She didn't want to start any rumors. Or fights, if indeed Stryke's father had an eye to her as a potential wife for his son. She was glad she hadn't been introduced to her lover's father yet. But it didn't matter anymore. Her mission had hit a brick wall. No suit. No diamond.

“I think the ceremony is starting soon,” Vail said, checking his wristwatch. “I have to go and make the announcement for everyone to file in to the next ballroom. Nice meeting you, Blyss.”

She mumbled a
bonsoir
and turned to search for Stryke, but her eyes unfocused and she again felt as if she balanced upon a raft amid treacherous waves. Edamite Thrash was sending a courier in the morning to pick up
Le Diabolique
. What would she do now?

Was there a way she could possibly get into Vail's closet tonight? Had she any other option? Where could he live? And did vampires sleep through the mornings, as she'd heard rumors, so she could sneak in without detection?

What was she thinking? She was no cat burglar. The snag from her own gallery had been possible because she had received the diamond and had processed it herself. She'd been vague with Lorcan about plans to exhibit it, which was why he hadn't questioned its absence yet.

Come to think of it, she hadn't heard from Lorcan since the Marie Antoinette showing. Generally they checked in with one another every day.

A warm hand slid around her waist. Blyss stiffened, until she realized who it was. Stryke kissed her at the base of her ear. Briefly she relaxed, sinking into his presence, until she remembered that now was no time to relax.

“Flirting with Vail?” he asked.

“Hmm? No. It's not called flirting if you don't get their number.” She tossed out the tired old line because right now her brain wasn't functioning properly. “He wasn't wearing the suit.”

“Nope. Let's go find a seat, shall we?”

* * *

Stryke nodded to Kelyn, who sat across the red-carpeted aisle from him. He caught his little brother's wink. Trouble kept giving him the head nod, as well. Yeah, he was sitting with the most gorgeous woman in the entire room. Hands down, he had won the Paris woman search among his brothers.

But when he'd seen Blyss talking to Vail, and running her fingers along his suit pocket, his heart had fallen. She had to have known it was a different suit, right?

While the officiate read through the vows, and Kambriel and Johnny stood facing one another, Stryke couldn't help but be distracted by the woman sitting next to him. He could smell the freesia and beyond that the traces of her floral perfume. But he couldn't sense her innate werewolf. Hell, he could pick out every werewolf in the room by scent alone. It wasn't an odor they put off, but something internal, a knowing they shared among their breed. He could even scent a few vamps because some carried an iron-tainted tinge of blood about them.

He tried to pay attention to the ceremony. The bride wore black latex, and the groom, clad in black velvet, wore a caterpillar of silver rings along one ear and his boots were studded and wrapped with silver chains. Johnny Santiago sang goth rock with a local band who had entertained friends and family tonight. Kambriel had lived in Minnesota all her life until running away to Paris to “find herself” a few years ago. It looked as though she'd found happiness.

Could he ever be so lucky?

Stryke threaded his fingers through Blyss's. What a woman to spend the rest of his life with. Yet it was an irrational thought. He knew nothing about her. Sure, they had some amazing chemistry between them. But what kind of distortion made her werewolf so imperceptible to him?

And would he really have to ask her the big question? The one that had troubled him since the night he'd returned home after the gallery showing and had shoved his hand into the inner pocket of the suit coat. He'd found something odd, interesting and couldn't believe it had belonged to Vail.

He had to do it. He would do it. Now, while it was relatively quiet and they sat toward the back. The bride and groom had recited their vows, and the officiate was babbling on about loving one another until death parted them. Long wait, if they could avoid the stake.

“So were you disappointed Vail wasn't wearing the suit?” he whispered close to Blyss's ear.

“Uh...” Startled, she flashed her bright greens at him.

Right. He'd caught her out.

“Were you looking for this?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the incredible black diamond that seemed to glow red from within and which was the size of a small plum.

Up front, the officiate pronounced the couple happily married and called for, instead of applause, a blessed moment of silence.

Blyss gasped and reached for the stone. “How did you—?”

Amid the silence a surprisingly loud sneeze echoed out.

Johnny, the groom, glanced over the crowd, his eyes landing on his little sister, Summer. “Ah hell,” the vampire muttered.

Chapter 7

“D
emons!” someone shouted. The entire audience jumped to their feet. Shouts to protect the women were answered by demonic growls.

Blyss grasped for Stryke's hand, but he snatched the diamond away. “I need that!”

“No time for this argument.” Stryke's eyes scanned the crowd and focused on the back door, where the bride had walked in and down the red-carpeted aisle. His jaw tensed.

Blyss grabbed him by the suit lapels. “Just hand it to me.”

“We'll discuss this later. You have things to tell me.” He gripped her by the shoulders. “Yes?”

“I'll tell you everything if you'll give me the diamond.”

“I'm going to hang on to it until after your confession. Now stay behind me. There's a lot of them. Hell, what are demons doing here?”

Screams and shouts erupted. Demonic growls curdled over the gaiety. The brother Blyss knew as Trouble charged for the dark-skinned red-eyed demon in the lead of what looked like a cavalcade of demons. All around her Blyss saw people spring into action, and it wasn't just the men. Witches attempted to repel the demonic approach with chants and gestures, and the witch with the dark purple hair even threw fire—of which, a demon caught in his mouth and gobbled up as if candy.

The bride was swept off the dais in a swish of black latex by her groom, but neither left the fray as demons poured down the aisle, slapping at vampires and werewolves to clear their way. The bride slid up her skirt to reveal a dagger strapped to her thigh. The groom smirked and pulled out knives from the holsters beneath his velvet suit coat.

Stryke punched a slender demon with long, disjointed arms and wicked talons. The demon growled, infusing the air with a foul miasma.

Stryke reached back to shove Blyss away. “Stay close.”

She appreciated his need to protect her, but all she wanted was to grab the diamond and get out of there. She hadn't seen him put
Le Diabolique
back in his pocket. Right now he lifted and swung a demon over the buffet table, bringing it down on the chocolate fountain in a spectacular crash.

A demon leaped from the aisle and landed before Blyss. The creature inhaled through long slit nostrils—all the demons wore their true forms—the gills on his cheeks fluttering. “You are the one.”

Blyss choked down a scream. Grasping at her throat, she stumbled and went down, landing on her butt and up against a marble column. Stryke was nowhere to be seen. The wedding guests engaged in a wild tangle with an assortment of demons. She smelled blood and sulfur. And she tasted her own fear.

The demon looming over her opened his mouth to reveal chunky, dull teeth. A scream rattled at the back of her throat.

“D-did Edamite send you?” she asked.

“Thrash?” The demon chuckled. “Heh. If that's how you want to play it? Sure, Thrash sent me.”

He hadn't. This demon was working for someone else. She knew it from his dismissive attitude.

“Hand over
Le Diabolique
,” the demon demanded, thrusting its blocky hand out for something.

“I don't know what you want!” She tried to scramble away, but a meaty hand slapped onto her ankle.

Overhead flew a tatter-winged demon, screeching wildly. Somewhere, an infant sneezed repeatedly.

Blyss heard someone shout congrats for defeating a demon. A death cry preceded the spill of sticky black blood that spattered her cheek. Struggling against the hand that gripped her ankle, she looked up to spy one of the Saint-Pierre brothers, the dark one with the long hair she'd seen at the gallery. He held a long, curved blade that dripped with black blood.

The demon managed to drag her body across the marble floor. Blyss grasped for chair legs, but they were metal foldables and clattered off balance with every one she grasped.

“Got him!”

Her ankle was suddenly free. Stryke stood over her, repeatedly punching the demon in the face, and finally picked him up and shoved him toward the brother with the blade, who caught the creature on his steel. The demon shattered into black bits that scattered and settled like dust.

And suddenly Blyss stood in Stryke's arms. “You okay? Blyss?”

She nodded, tilted her head against his chest. Demon blood stained his shirt and he smelled of sulfur. Yet when he bracketed her face and kissed her, she returned the seeking touch. Safe. She'd initially sought safety in his embrace that night in the gallery office, but had brushed it off as stupid. But right now, she fell into the feeling.

“I'm so sorry,” she muttered. Guilt struck as if a demon's tongue spearing directly into her heart. “This was all my fault.”

“What are you talking about? It was a random wedding-crasher incident. Bunch of demons heard about two vampires getting married. That's it. We're all safe.”

“No, Stryke, the demon after me wanted it. The diamond. Do you still have it? Where is it?”

He patted his coat pocket, then shoved his fingers in, but they came out with nothing in hand. “Must have dropped it.”

“What? No!”

“Listen, Blyss, I don't know what's up with that funky black diamond, or why you slipped it into my coat pocket the night at the gallery, but if there's something deeper going on here, you'd better tell me.”

“I...I can't.” She tried to stand by herself but it felt as if her knees would give out. “It's too personal. I have to find that diamond.” She began searching the floor, strewn with chairs and bridesmaids' bouquets and ripped lace and demon blood. “Please help me find it!”

“Hey, Stryke, you and your date okay?” Vail asked.

“Yeah, we're good. How's everyone?”

“Head count shows only demon casualties. But a few got away. We're sending out a hunting party to track them. You in?”

Stryke nodded. “I'll put Blyss in a cab and then join you.”

“Excellent. I've troops to gather.” Vail wiped black blood from his face and winced. “That stuff tastes nasty.”

Blyss shook her head when Stryke offered his hand. “I can't leave until I've found it.”

“It's not here! I must have dropped it, and someone, likely a demon, grabbed it.”

“But you don't understand.”

Stryke knelt before her. With a stern twist of his finger, he tilted her chin up to look at him. “Enlighten me.”

She sighed, weighing the consequences of a confession. She looked around. Everyone was in tatters. A few women were sobbing, but most were celebrating the win, including the bride, who wiped a black smudge from her groom's cheek before kissing him. What a way to start a marriage.

Had this been her fault? Who could know that the diamond would be here? Even she had thought it would be found in Vail's closet.

This didn't make sense.

“I think they came looking specifically for
Le Diabolique
,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“I don't know how they knew the diamond was going to be here. But the one that was after me asked for it by name.”

Stryke hissed. “What the hell is it?”

“It's just a diamond. I don't know what it means to the demons.” Edamite had told her about it. And she had chosen to look the other way and let him have it, no matter the consequences. Because at the time what mattered was securing her future. “I...I have to leave.”

He gripped her upper arm tightly. “But you stole it from the gallery. You must know what it means to the demons. Were they the ones you were to hand it off to?”

“No. I don't believe the ones here tonight were working for Ed—”

Blyss pulled away from Stryke and ran for the exit doors. She couldn't do this now. Not this confession. Much as the whole family deserved it. The best thing she could do for them was to get the hell away and never show her face to any of them again.

Stryke followed on her heels, gripping her by the arm again. She could sense his anger and smell his wolf. Whenever her emotions were stirred she could sense her breed. It was disturbing, yet she couldn't deal with that at the moment.

Stryke hailed a cab, which pulled over immediately. He opened the back door, but held her firmly when she tried to enter. “You brought this upon my family?”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen.”

“You admit it?”

She nodded.

“It's over between the two of us.”

He shoved her inside the back of the cab, more gently than she'd expected. When she pulled in her feet, he leaned in, looking to say something more. He couldn't meet her eyes. His jaw was so tense. But then he shook his head and closed the door.

Stryke's brothers joined him at the curb, and she saw them talking to him, but Stryke's gaze remained on hers as the cab rolled away.

If they intended on tracking the demons perhaps they would find the diamond.

She'd lost this one. She'd lost...

...everything.

* * *

“I can't believe that bitch,” Trouble said as the cab drove away. “You're going to let her get away, Stryke? She was the one who brought those assholes on us!”

“Give it a rest, Trouble,” Kelyn said. The tall, cool faery bumped his fist gently against Trouble's shoulder. “Stryke never has been lucky at love. The day he finds a good woman...”

Stryke closed his eyes and inside he felt the wince. So he'd had a tough couple of years with women. Blyss had been different. Perfect. A glamour girl so out of his league he'd have to climb a staircase just to touch her feet. And he had known they had an expiration date. He'd even suspected that date was tonight.

Well hell, wasn't as if he'd actually given the relationship any hope. The last woman he could imagine standing at his side while he led a pack was Blyss Sauveterre.

“She screwed you,” Trouble said as he wandered down the sidewalk. “This way, guys. The demon scent goes north.”

Stryke clenched his fists and turned to follow the half dozen men who intended to track down the demons.

For as perfect as Blyss was, she had cleverly hidden a nasty dark side. How could she have done that to him? To his entire family?

Though really, she hadn't been the one to bring the diamond into the wedding. He had. Blyss had only thought she might find it in the coat pocket where she'd left it. But he had found it that night and had waited for her to ask about it yesterday. When he'd caught her in his closet he'd known what she was looking for, but still, she hadn't said a thing.

If she had been using him, would she really have had sex with him that much? They'd done it more than a few times. And this morning he'd woken in her bed. No means for her to search for the diamond then. It was as if she'd actually wanted to have sex with him for no reason other than that she'd been attracted to him.

He wanted to believe that.

Right now, Stryke didn't know what to believe.

What was important about the diamond? It was black. Yet he'd almost thought to see a glint of red in the center when he'd held it up to the bathroom light. Was it demonic?

Then why was Blyss after it? Had she stolen it from the gallery? Her own gallery? So many questions, and...he shouldn't be asking them. He'd put her in a cab and sent her off. End of story. He did not need her kind of trouble.

Her soft, sexy, seductive kind of trouble.

“You all right, man?” Blade brushed his shoulder as they strode into a dark alley. His older brother didn't talk much, but when he did, he meant it.

“Not sure. I think there's more to this, and part of me thinks Blyss could be in trouble.”

“You should follow your instincts.”

Wise words from the one brother who had experienced more than his share of pain in his short lifetime. “First let's go kick some demon ass.”

“Try to keep up, brother.” Blade strode onward, a curved blade clenched in his fist.

As far as a demon slaughter, the results of tracking the demon scent led the crew of wolves and vampires to an empty warehouse. The sulfur trail ended abruptly, and someone conjectured a witch's hex might have facilitated that under-the-radar sneak.

Vail, the vampire leading them, talked to Trouble and Stryke.

“It was probably a wedding crash,” Vail decided.

Trouble eyed Stryke hard. Like, why didn't he speak up about his nasty girlfriend? It wouldn't matter if Stryke did reveal Blyss's involvement; they'd come to a dead end.

“Sorry for the disastrous wedding, guys,” Vail offered.

“Are you kidding?” Trouble pounded a fist through the air. “Dancing, food and ass-kicking? That was awesome!”

“I'll keep my ears open,” Stryke said to Vail as they headed back. “And my nose to the air. I'll let you know if anything turns up.”

“Cool. I think it was a spectacular end to a great party myself. And Summer is safe, so it's all good.”

Stryke refused Kelyn's offer of a ride home. They were on the right bank close to the huge forest that edged the city. He was pretty sure if he walked east he'd wind up on the Champs-Élysées. That fancy street where she liked to shop.

He didn't want to see her again.

And he did.

He needed answers. And he would get them.

* * *

Blyss rang him in immediately. Stryke wandered through the courtyard. The scents of yew and flowers seemed too fresh and out of place after the night he'd had. He wondered now how Johnny and Kambriel were handling the destruction of their wedding ceremony. Though he distinctly recalled seeing Johnny hugging Kambriel and kissing her amid the melee, while both had brandished blades dripping with black demon blood. And Vail had agreed it had been a hit.

Vampires. Go figure.

The door to Blyss's apartment was open. Stryke walked in, closing it behind him. He wandered down the long hallway to the kitchen. It was well after midnight, but moonlight beamed through the skylight in the adjacent living room, casting a pale glow across Blyss's shoulders. Standing beside the marble counter, with her head bowed, she didn't face him. She sniffled.