F
rom the eighty-seventh floor of EurekaTower, I could see the whole of Melbourne in a panoramic 270-degree view, darkened glass gleaming from marble floor to ceiling. Golden lights glittered as far as I could see, broken at my feet by the dark snake of the river striped with bridges. Blue and green lights rushed up and down the arts-center spire like an iridescent inky fountain, and farther afield the bright white spotlight towers of the cricket ground blotted out the stars. High-rise buildings festooned with neon advertising jutted up below us, dwarfed, and to the north and west, traffic-bright freeways slashed red and white through light-studded suburbs, the slow arc of the Westgate Bridge garishly backlit in orange.
I swallowed, dizziness swirling gently in my head as I stepped from the glass lift. Fatigue still washed me out, and a warm hollow stretched my stomach like I hadn’t eaten all day, which I hadn’t. I’d gone straight home from Rajah’s, too shaken up to want anything.
My reflection shone dimly in the sepia-toned glass, showing my hair curled up on my head with a few wisps hanging free, shadowy glitter around my eyes. My sleek crimson silk dress pushed my breasts up and brushed my thighs as I moved. I’d wanted to stand out, to make Luna look. There was no point in hiding, or expecting him not to remember me. I’d need all my powers of seduction tonight.
My skin burned faintly, and my breath heated my throat, like I had a fever. Maybe I was getting the flu, or just needed a fix. Once I was done with Luna, I’d get one, some poor guy who’d never understand why he felt sick, staggered, passed out. . . .
A bit tired, are you?
I remembered Rajah’s words, and a scowl tensed my forehead. He knew nothing. Just seething with jealousy and a bruised ego.
Did you spew this morning? Was it red?
Dante gripped my hand, warm, leaning over to brush his lips against my cheek. “Don’t worry. You look gorgeous.” He sure sounded like he meant it, all breathy and intense.
“Thanks.” I smiled, as best I could, straightening the thin golden rope holding my purse over my shoulder. He didn’t look so shabby himself, dressed neatly in some designer as usual, light pleasant aftershave drifting, dark curls brushing his open white collar. Something comforted me about a vampire who wore white. Like he didn’t expect to make a mess tonight. Maybe he was just a careful diner.
We walked up to the wide black glass doors, and a big bald security guy with no evident sense of humor gave Dante a thick-necked nod. I laughed inwardly, satisfied. Rajah would need all his imagination to get past that guy.
As we stepped across the carpeted threshold, my jaw dropped.
The walls, the distant vaulted ceiling, and half the floor were entirely of sparkling glass. The night sky glowed above like jewel-scattered mist, and where the pale lush carpet ended, the skyscraper fell away and the city sprawled below, twinkling. Gaps in the glass let in the breeze, smelling of wind and water and city decadence. The broad lounge stretched into the starry distance, scattered with couches, cushions, and chaises in the height of expensive modern style. Behind where we’d entered lay other rooms behind darkened glass—presumably where Luna went when he grew weary of outshining the stars—and a long black bar, serving fae-drenched drinks, sparkling white powder on slivers of mirror and colored glass eye droppers of shit most real people couldn’t afford. Hidden somewhere, a diamond-clear sound system played something androgynous with sharp guitars and echo effects, maybe Placebo or My Chemical Romance.
The guests—a mixture of fae and mortal—looked like the cream of the hip, beautiful crowd at Unseelie Court, only the dresses were more expensive, the diamonds real and flashier, the drinks in crystal instead of thick glass, and no one was fucking over the wine velvet chaises longues, at least not yet. Some of these women were freaks, tall, perfect and big-breasted like supermodels in shimmering satin or drifting transparent silk, and the men weren’t far behind.
I saw actors, pop culture criminals, musicians, sports stars, and littered amongst them all the silvery butterfly wings, lissome limbs, and wild rainbow hair of fae. I couldn’t yet see Luna. No one I knew personally . . .
Shit. Over against the window. Skinny brown body in a black suit, bristly black hair like wire, a slither of forked blue tongue over jagged teeth. I let my gaze drift, but too late. He’d seen me. Tony LaFaro, Ange’s crazy-ass fae-born cousin.
Happy carelessness warmed me. What the hell. I wasn’t with Ange anymore. Tony could stare till his freaky lizard eyes burned out.
“Isn’t this place fantastic?” Dante’s murmur warmed my ear, intimate. “I wanted to see you in it.”
I laughed giddily, still gobsmacked. Like the moon at midday, I was totally outshone. “Lucky you can see me at all.”
He caught my waist and spun me around, his indigo eyes glistening and intense as he grinned, his face close to mine. “I don’t see much else tonight, sweet Jade. You’ve bewitched me.”
My skin heated. Damn. Was I blushing? I slid my wrists around his neck, inviting him to press his body against mine. I didn’t care what Rajah thought. Dante actually liked me. I could feel it in his gaze, intent and adoring. “Not true. It’s all still in the can, I swear.”
I felt him laugh against me, light and easy, and I laughed, too. His heady compliments still dizzied me, bringing back the delicious scent of his roses. He made me feel interesting, worthwhile, special. I wondered what it’d be like to touch someone who made me feel like that, let him touch me. Make him want me, slide him into me, make love to him.
He leaned even closer, teasing his lips across mine, his hands sliding warm over my hips. A cool sliver of fear pierced my skin, unsettling but tantalizing. “I dreamed of you,” he whispered, “did you know that?”
“Didn’t know vampires dreamed.” I stole a kiss, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth, and a burning image flashed, steamy, sensation-soaked, of Dante inside me, deep and hard, my head thrown back on pale suede, his mouth sucking my nipple to painful hardness. I gulped, and jerked my head away a little, my thighs hot and tingling and my nipples scraping my dress in sympathy. Jesus. That was pretty real. I must really need a fix.
Dante smiled, his tongue flicking out to mine. Like before, he tasted coppery, metallic. I wanted to swallow, drag that salty essence into me. “Only when we want to. Want to know what my dream was about?”
“Love to.” I meant it. I could listen to his compliments all night, and if it was a sexy dream that might put him in the mood, so much the better.
“We danced. We drank. We had dinner at some restaurant, and you pushed me under the tablecloth and let me go down on you.”
Another sultry flash made me gasp. Dante’s head in my lap, my legs apart and my black dress crumpled around my hips, his tongue sliding over me, into me, teasing my clit to ecstasy.
I closed my eyes on aching dizziness. God, it seemed so real, almost like a memory, that creamy suede under my thighs, the smell of cigarette smoke. . . .
No. It couldn’t be. Could it?
Unseelie Court
?
Did you spew? Was it red?
Icy trails of disgust ran down my back like melting snow. He hadn’t. Had he?
His thigh pressed against mine, hard. “I know, I should be so lucky. But it gets better. You gripped my hair and pulled me into you, and guess what?” He traced a warm fingertip over my hip, suggestive, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You were bleeding. You tasted so delicious, so wet and hot. I slid my tongue into you and sucked you, and you came, but you couldn’t scream because everyone was watching. That’s what I dreamed.”
Images of hot splashing blood washed into my mind like waves on some hell-scarred beach. I could taste it, thick and visceral, coating my tongue, dripping past my tonsils. My fingers clenched behind his head, and I longed to pull away and slap him. But my thrall bangles burned, searing and insistent on my itching skin, and I couldn’t move.
Never.
Kane’s rapture parasite spat acid denial in my heart.
Never defy me.
I had to swallow so my voice wouldn’t shake. “That’s . . . pretty forward, Dante. Aren’t you afraid I’ll take offense?”
He pulled back, raising his eyebrows. “Not at all. I want you to know I want you, even if you deserve to be treated like a goddess. You’re a beautiful, sensual woman, not a Barbie doll.”
My gaze caught on the shiny tips of his teeth, just visible beyond his bottom lip. Hot saliva burst into my mouth, and wetness seeped between my legs in sympathy. My breasts ached, my nipples hard and tingling. My tongue slipped out to wet my lips. I couldn’t look away. All I could think about was his kiss, his fine teeth piercing my skin and sliding inside, the blood welling, always the blood. Horror crawled in my veins, mingling with burning desire.
Dante watched me and smiled, teeth flashing. “Time to meet our host. You’ll love him. Everyone does.” He slipped his hand into mine and led me away.
I nearly staggered in my heels, my legs wobbly and unwilling but compliant. Bloodlust still raged in my veins, screaming, my body shuddering with macabre arousal, trapped with nowhere to go. I stung my rapture with a clumsy spurt of energy, but it wouldn’t ignite, and fatigue weighed my heavy head down. Dante’s delicate scent still filled my nostrils, stealing my attention, his fingers warm and possessive in mine.
Dismay wrenched my spine. I couldn’t meet Luna like this. I needed all my wits. I unfocused my eyes, trying to clear my mind of Dante and whatever eldritch spell he’d wrought, trying to think of anyone anywhere who’d ever given a shit about me. I brought to mind Nyx, a rainy afternoon hunting antiques in Fitzroy, his long green fingers agile over dusty piano keys. Watching
Australian Idol
beneath soft downlights on Kane’s couch, his golden head resting easy in my lap as we munched popcorn. Kissing Rajah in warm darkness on my doorstep, his savage lips claiming mine, my body longing for him, my heart carved open and bleeding, craving his love.
Golden rapture sizzled to life deep within me, invisible static sparking the air. The world swam back into sharp focus, my skin alive with awareness, the stink of blood fading. I felt revitalized, as if my spirit dragged its weary head from the dust. Fatigue still tugged at me, but I could handle it. I squeezed Dante’s hand, breathing in his scent again, but this time fresh, feeding my soul with his strength. I clasped my purse closer with my other hand, feeling the hard swell of the empty soultrap hiding there. I could handle this.
We approached the bar, and I searched it with a quick glance, nerves tingling my fingertips. A pair of drunken banshees, giggling as they wobbled on their stools. A stony-skinned earth sprite, dusty elflocks dangling over her breasts, swaying her naked brown hips in a trance to the music. And a luscious sweep of long golden hair, glowing with a faint, sweet mauve aura.
I stared, trembling, as he turned. Tall, broad-shouldered, gorgeous like an airbrushed dream. Sharp amber-green eyes, deep and wise with experience. A long Chinese silk coat brushed his thighs, shiny black, the high open collar drawing attention to his bone structure, cheekbones and chin perfectly carved. Pale shirt beneath, almost translucent, showing off his impressive body.
I don’t hate often. Not Kane, not Quinn, not even Angelo. But I hated Luna for what he’d done to me, and black disgust filled me like tar, sticky and vile.
“Glad you could make it, my friend.” Luna kissed Dante on the corner of the mouth, their fingers touching briefly. His voice rang pleasantly, no trace of language problems or foreign accent. Luna adapted fast, always had. He switched his gaze to me, voracious. “And with such a lovely lady, too.”
I pasted a sweet smile on my lips as I held out my hand. “Hello, Vorenus.”
He eyed me speculatively as he swept my fingers to his lips, his perfect blond brows contracting a millimeter or two, fingers of violet aura flickering over his flawless skin.
I fought a flush, my skin crawling. He had no idea who I was. He didn’t even remember me.
And then his lips parted in a perfect smile, his eyes brightening with delight. “Jade! My god. You had me there for a minute. Dante, my friend, you’re a dark horse.”
I fixed my smile in place. “You haven’t changed.”
“Oh, go on. It’s been so long. But you! You look fantastic. Hell, you always looked fantastic.” He grasped both my hands, laughing, and pulled me into a hug.
Black silk pressed against my cheek, warm. The contours of his body brought a wash of vile memory, his hands excruciating in my hair. His dark otherworldly scent filled my nose, and I swallowed, gagging.
“Still chasing the dangerous ones, hmmm?” His breath whispered on my cheek, his closeness nauseating, but before I could react, he released me. “So how’d things work out with Kane, eh? I swear the bastard cheated me that night. Can’t say I blame him.” He winked at me, handsome.
I forced a little laugh. Unbelievable. He had no idea that I hated him. No clue why I might resent him even a little bit. “I don’t think you can cheat at faro.”
“Nonsense. If you try hard enough, you can cheat at anything.” He flicked an inscrutable glance at Dante. “Perhaps we’ll have a game, see who wins the prize.”
His arrogance made my stomach curl. But confidence could be his weakness. Let him think I didn’t mind, that I’d forgotten about that cold, dank dungeon, the rusty iron chafing my wrists. I breathed a tiny shimmer of rapture over him, tempting him to look, move closer, touch.
Luna’s smile froze, and my warm tendril of glamour slapped hard into a frigid wall. Static shocked up my arms, zapping my skin with pain, and fragrant rapture evaporated like summer rain. I caught my breath, my eyes wide. Jesus. He’d seen me coming a mile away.
He flicked the tip of his tongue over his teeth, his lips curling in amusement, his stare a haughty challenge. “Well, well. You should keep your wildcat chained, Dante. I think she bites.” He trailed his elegant finger under my chin, teasing. “We’ll talk later, eh? Enjoy yourselves.”