The Kyriakis Curse (8 page)

“He was a little ticked at first.”

Dante smirked. “A little ticked?”

“He was furious, but have no worries, his Uncle Dante is still his hero; he knows the fault lies mainly on my shoulders. In any case, as the alpha-in-waiting, it’s time for him to take on more pack duties, and one of those involves the family business. He can hardly focus on that if he’s jaunting all over the world immersed in dangerous situations.” Paris exhaled sharply. “But enough about me and Constantine. Other than this whole council business, what’s this I hear about you tracking down the elusive il Diavolo? Aries said something about a pair of mysterious brothers claiming to be Grimaldis.”

Dante gritted his teeth, and Paris knew right away he’d hit on a sore subject. Before his friend could answer, the waiter came by to take their order. When they were alone again, Paris gently prompted Dante once more.

“Something is going on that you’re not telling me. Does it have anything to do with these two new siblings?”

“Somewhat, but not really. Actually I was supposed to meet with one of them, but he

never showed up. I don’t really know what to make of it.”

“But that isn’t the issue weighing the heaviest on your heart, is it? Your younger

brothers have found mates; I imagine it would make you lonely. Or... is it GianMarco’s mate in particular?”

Dante glared, then growled. “If you fucking read my mind again without my

permission I’ll kick your ass!”

Paris sighed. “Your mind was open to me. Very bad form, Dante. I’ve obviously struck a nerve, so I’ll drop it. You have my apologies,” he murmured, taking a sip of his wine.

Dante raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t mean to sound like a jerk, but it’s been ridiculously stressful recently. All of my emotions are in a jumble. I’ve tried very hard to hide my feelings for GianMarco’s bloodmate, but it's difficult when she’s nearby. What’s worse is she’ll be giving birth to their child soon, and the entire family is expected to be there. I know it will hurt Marco, but I just can’t do it. Being around her is too painful.”

“She must be extraordinary.”

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“Yes,” Dante answered tightly, as though the words were hard for him to get out. “She’s the kindest, sweetest woman you’ll ever meet.”

“Is she a great beauty?”

Dante frowned. “To be honest, no, but she’s attractive, pretty. Once I knew her,

though, she easily became one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”

“When did you realize you felt this way about her?” Paris asked delicately.

Dante slowly unfolded a tale of a vulnerable woman who’d somehow managed to steal

a little bit of the love Dante thought he’d only had for his brothers. From what the vampire told him, Paris began to form his own opinion, but he waited patiently for his friend to finish.

“That’s about the whole of it. I’m about to cause an even bigger rift between Marco and me, because there’s no way I can be there for the birth of their child when I can’t help but wish it were mine instead.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish? This isn’t about you. All you have to do is show up for a couple of hours, say the appropriate words, and then leave. It would mean so much to your brother and his mate. Besides, what’s the point of pining for a woman who doesn’t return your feelings?” Paris hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he hated to see his friend torture himself.

Dante’s eyes glowed briefly. “Kind of like you with your Zahara, says the pot to the kettle?”

This mention of her name was like a shot to Paris’s gut. “Zahara loved me, or at least she could have, had I not been such a fool. And she was mine, if only for a brief time. Can you say the same? I have never lusted after another’s mate.” The second those words left his mouth, Paris knew he’d gone too far. “Dante--”

The vampire rose, extracting his wallet from his pants. “I believe it’s my turn to pay.”

He threw a few fifties on the table before turning on his heel.

“Skata,” Paris muttered as he got up and chased his friend outside. “Dante, wait.” He grabbed the vampire’s shoulder before he could get any further ahead on the street. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You confided in me, and I repaid your trust with a jackass statement.”

Under his grip, Paris felt the tension slowly ease from Dante until his friend’s body visibly relaxed. He pivoted to face Paris. “Apology accepted. Dios, I’ve made quite a few jackass comments myself lately, so I can’t hold that against you. Besides, we’ve been friends for too many years. What’s a couple of insults between friends?”

Paris grinned, smoothing a hand over his tailored Jhane Barnes slacks. “Do you really intend to miss the birth of your brother’s child? I know that kind of thing isn’t as important in the vampire culture as it is with shifters, but I’ve never seen anyone closer to his siblings than you.” He continued more soberly. “Have you thought that perhaps you’re not truly in 42 Eve Vaughn

love with Maggie? If she were your bloodmate, you would have gone into la morte dolci already, am I not correct?” The condition, similar to blue balls in a human male, created pain that was tenfold in vampires; if not relieved by the person they most desired, la morte dolci caused the affected vampires to go insane and turn rogue.

Dante inhaled sharply. “Yes, you’re right. So what the hell is wrong with me? Do you think I want to feel this way?” Pure frustration radiated from the other man.

“I have a theory.”

“By all means, share, because I’d certainly like to understand what’s been happening to me.”

“I think you’re so used to taking care of your brothers that when they stopped needing you so much, Maggie happened to fill the void during the night you helped GianMarco get through la morte dolci. It’s quite possible your feelings are confused, because you want to have someone to protect and love, too.”

Dante’s eyes were unfocused, as though he were examining himself internally.

“Perhaps, but in the meantime, I’m still stuck with these inconvenient emotions.”

Paris shrugged. “I suppose we all have our crosses to bear, but this will pass, I am sure.”

“And you? Are you still pining for Zahara?”

Paris’s jaw tightened. “Do I make it so obvious?”

“Not really, but I upset you when I mentioned her earlier. You’re my friend, and just as you have taken time to try to help me, I need to say this. Isn’t it time to lay her ghost to rest?

It’s been nearly two hundred years without a trace of her.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Paris snarled, clenching his fists. “But something has happened in the past few days that gives me hope.”

“Dios, Paris, not again. You’re always turning up something, and each time it leads to a dead end.”

“You won’t say so when you see what I found. Look, instead of standing here on the

sidewalk like a pair of bums, why not come back to my place in the Hamptons? I’ll have the valet bring my car around. As a matter of fact, what you need is a break, my friend. Away from everything -- your brothers, the Underground, all of it.”

The vampire chuckled. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. Come to my house for a couple of weeks. You’ll have the peace you desperately require. Persephone usually comes and goes, and Constantine prefers to stay in the city with Aries. You won’t be disturbed.”

“I can’t impose.”

“Ridiculous. You won’t be imposing at all.”

Dante rubbed his chin, as though considering the proposition, before a lazy grin

touched his mouth. “I appreciate the offer. I think I’ll take you up on it.”

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* * * * *

Sarah climbed out of her bedroom window and fell onto the fire escape before

bouncing back to her feet. She gasped in horror as the men banged on the door she’d just barricaded behind her. There was no doubt in her mind that had she not pushed her bed against the entrance, the intruders would have burst through already. Unfortunately, she had a sick feeling those barriers weren’t going hold them off for very long.

Sarah stomped her heel against the fire escape stairs. Damn, it was caught!

How had they found her? She should never have gotten so comfortable in her space,

should never have believed that maybe she’d finally escaped. Now they were here.

Sarah pushed at the stairs with her free leg, using every ounce of strength in her body.

This time the old rusty steps creaked before releasing her heel, but not before her bedroom door splintered apart.

Her heart pounded so hard she was sure it would pop out of her chest. She quickly fled down the fire escape and leaped to the ground. Now that she was outside, perhaps she’d get better reception on her cell phone. At least long enough to complete her call to Constantine.

As she raced down the sidewalk, ignoring staring pedestrians, Sarah pulled her phone from her pocket and rapidly punched the “Talk” button to redial the last call.

A frantic voice answered. “Sarah?”

“Yes!”

“Thank goodness! Where the hell are you?”

“I’m moving toward the Apollo Theater.”

“Okay. Try to stay in that area. We’ll sniff you out.”

“But if you’re able to sniff me out, then so will they. I can’t stick around. I have to get out of here. I--”

An arm wrapped around her waist and a hand clamped over her mouth. Sarah dropped

her phone in shock as she struggled against her captor, panicking as she fought against the vise-like grip. Why was everyone walking around like they didn’t see what was happening to her? In this neighborhood, someone’s business was everyone’s business.

She bit down as hard as she could on the callused flesh covering her lips; the acrid taste of blood filled her throat. Her assailant’s hand fell away, accompanied by guttural curses, but his other arm remained firm around her body. Sarah brought her heel down in the same move she’d used on Aries. This time, the grip on her loosened enough for her to wiggle away.

Her freedom was short-lived, however; she abruptly lost the ability to move.

She felt as if she’d been turned to stone. No matter how Sarah tried to twist or turn, something kept her still. Even attempting to scream did no good, because her lips and vocal cords were as immobile as the rest of her. This was going from bad to worse.

44 Eve Vaughn

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Sarah found herself lifted in the air, moving

toward an alley near the block containing the Apollo. Dear Lord, please help me. She kept trying to shout, but couldn’t. That strange scent she’d come to fear filled her nostrils, and another odor she couldn’t quite put her fingers on. Then her body was suddenly slammed into a brick wall by an invisible force, sending a streak of pain up her spine unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

She fell to the ground moments later, stunned. When Sarah tried to stand up, barely

aware that she could move now, a wing-tipped boot connected with her ribs, spinning her onto her back and smashing the wind from her lungs.

“That’s for making us chase after you, cunt!” a deep voice said over her. Someone

grabbed her ponytail, lifting her head to meet pitch-black eyes. She stared at his harsh and swarthy face; there was a cruel tilt to his mouth. And was that some sort of a tattoo on his neck?

Somehow, she knew this man wasn’t a shifter, but he was something else -- another

nonhuman. The man sneered. “Gage will be pleased that we’ve finally caught up with you.”

It took Sarah a few more seconds to fully realize she was no longer frozen. She swung at him, her fist connecting with his stomach. Gasping out a startled oomph!, he released her.

“You’ll pay for that, you half-breed whore.” The man shot his hand out, and Sarah flew through the air, her body crashing against the wall again. This time she hit head first.

Dazed, aching more than she’d ever felt, she gingerly held her head as stars danced

before her eyes, thankful that her neck hadn’t snapped. But her enemy wasn’t through with her yet, because she found herself hurled again. This time she remembered to put an arm out to cushion herself. The sickening crunch of broken bone assailed her ears before more jagged shards of pain shot from her fingertips to her shoulder. She vaguely heard another voice.

Her attacker’s companion spoke gruffly. “Neyo, stop this now. Gage said to keep her alive.”

“Shut up, you stupid mutt. You take orders from me when we’re on mission and not

the other way around. Have you forgotten you live only due to our sufferance? Gage may want this one alive, but he didn’t specify what condition she had to be in. He could always heal her once we get her back at the lab.”

“I don’t think--”

“I didn’t bring you here to think, only to track her scent. Now, shut the hell up, or you’re next!”

Sarah was in agony, but she managed to lift her head slightly to see who the other man was. She saw a tall blond with a full beard... and what seemed to be a touch of sadness in his hazel eyes. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be there. He shot her a sympathetic look.

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Gritting her teeth, Sarah struggled to raise herself by using her good arm to steady herself and shoved her legs and back against the alley wall, inching her way up. Her left arm ached like a son of a bitch, as did her head and ribs.

The one called Neyo chuckled. “So, the half-breed has spirit. I’m going to enjoy

breaking it, and I won’t even use my powers. When he approached her and would have

punched her in the face, Sarah managed to dodge the blow and found the strength to swing a foot up to kick Neyo directly in the balls. Hard.

He went to his knees. “You... fucking... c-cunt,” he managed to wheeze out. He glared at his partner. “Wh-what are you... standing there... for, you idiot!... Grab her!... The whore...

needs to be taught... a lesson.”

Sarah looked to her left -- a dead end -- and realized she’d have to run past the large shifter to get out of the alley. If this was the day she was going to die, Sarah figured she wouldn’t leave this earth without a fight. For insurance, she dealt Neyo another kick, this time to the face. The stomach-turning sound of bone being crushed accompanied her foot connecting with his nose.