The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - Daniel: Book: 3 (12 page)

Dismay entered Duncan's heart.

It was true the council had taken their eye off the ball
when it came to The Order.

He'd felt it himself.

"Vampyres," drawled Ezekiel, "for too long
you and the council have focused on humans. Not once have you kept your eye on
magic. Except, of course, on me. And the reason for that is because you believe
the rantings of a vengeful man who holds a grudge. A blood grudge."

Ezekiel was referring to Samuel.

Duncan took a breath.

"Lord Hindmarch has every reason to hold a
grudge."

"I agree. However, I say again the Legion did
not
kill his wife and child. What have the vampyre council done about his...
issues?"

"Nothing."

"So here we have the truth of it. Where do you think
doing nothing might leave a man like Samuel?"

Duncan didn't like where this was going. "He might look
for ways to avenge the death of his wife, his stillborn daughter."

"Indeed. Why don't you find out who, or what, he's
bargained with?"

No response.

Ezekiel merely nodded once before he continued, "Tell
me, prince. Does Samuel look like a man at peace with the choices he has made
in his life?"

The answer to that question was no, and Duncan knew it.

Now he wondered why he hadn't seen the psychological
deterioration in his friend before now?

Duncan couldn't quite believe he was having this
conversation with a person who was still regarded by many as a sworn enemy of
the vampyre state.

"You are telling me that one of my closest and dearest
friends has committed treason, betrayed us?"

"No. I'm saying he is in over his head." Again
Ezekiel gazed into the bottom of his glass as if searching for inspiration.
Then his eyes flicked up and held his. "You do realize you must bring
Sorcha into this?"

Again Duncan stood utterly still.

He shook his head.

"Not yet."

He was doomed.

He knew it.

That it had come to this?

Hadn't his wife told him there would come a day, when he
would be on his knees before her?

Who'd have thought that the time to leave his sons, his
world, was approaching and approaching fast?

Ezekiel made to leave, but as he stepped onto the balcony he
turned his head to look him dead in the eye.

"Oh, and Duncan, remember... witches embrace technology,
too."

He was gone.

What the fuck did that mean?

Gia breezed through the door Jesus held
open for her with a saucy smile that had made his dark brows lift. She was so
damned pleased with herself for her easy escape from Daniel, she didn't catch
the Rutherford brothers share a look of alarm. And she most certainly didn't
notice Jerry reach for his cell to call a number embedded in his psyche by a
vampyre.

She entered her tiny dressing room in the Sly Fox club with
a jaunty confidence and a sexy sway of her hips. Quickly she applied her
make-up, focusing on her eyes and mouth. Tonight her lipstick was a deep and
erotic red. She pulled the tie from her hair and let it fall to her waist.

Next up, her dress.

Stripping to her bra and matching string panties, she
shimmied into the black silk number with a slit up to the hip and couldn't help
but do a little shoulder boogie of delight.

She pulled her hair to the side and checked out the back all
the while grinning at herself like a loon in the mirror.

Hot damn
.

She looked amazing.

There was a single knock on the door.

"Five minutes, Gia," the voice of the manager
yelled. "We have a full house tonight, babe."

Babe
just tossed back her head and laughed.

God, her whole system felt as if she'd been charged with
sixty thousand volts of electricity.

It didn't occur to her that perhaps she should have fed
before she left Daniel's apartment.

It didn't occur to her that perhaps the scent of human
beings might trigger the rise of her vampyre.

All Gia was worried about was putting on the performance of
her life and then dealing with one Enricho Donatti.

Meanwhile, the man himself was settling
down at a table right at the front of the stage with two of his enforcers.

Enricho Donatti was not a man used to waiting for things.

And that included women.

The first time he'd seen Gia had been at her husband's wake.

Her beauty was a natural and breathtaking one, tinged with a
naïveté, an innocence, that sang to him. No artifice. It pleased him she didn't
need paint to enhance that fabulous face.

His body had reacted in a way that had certainly surprised
him.

He wasn't a particularly sexual creature.

His emotions were too controlled for that.

But he'd taken one look at the young widow Del Russo and
he'd gone as hard as stone.

Certain social customs had to be maintained, especially
after a funeral, so it wasn't as if he could have just picked her up and
carried her out of the hovel she called a home. Although, God knew, he'd wanted
to.

Enricho liked to possess nice things, beautiful things.

He was proud of the mansion, the fast cars and of course the
money.

Who said crime didn't pay?

However, tonight wasn't the night to think of such things.

His dick hardened with the sense of sheer anticipation.

He'd been toying with her for months and the fact she hadn't
given in to him too soon had only made the chase even more enjoyable. He'd
thought the single white rose delivered every day a nice touch.

When a human being was in despair and on its knees and one
squeezed, one never knew what might emerge. Desperate for the increasing amount
of cash he'd demanded from her, she'd worked all hours in some pretty dingy
places.

According to his enforcers, people he paid well to keep a
close eye on her, apparently his Gia had the voice of an angel.

Maybe he'd make her a star?

But then the room darkened, the only light from flickering
candles in clear glass jars, centred on the tables.

The click of drumsticks counting down the beat of
introduction.

Three.

Two.

One.

A spotlight hit and there she was.

For a second his mind went blank.

All he could do was stare up at the beautiful creature
standing alone on the tiny stage.

A creature who in no way resembled the Gia Del Russo he
knew.

This woman wore a dress that left nothing to the imagination
with a lazy, almost feline, confidence.

She was a sensual woman, filled with an innate eroticism
that oozed from her very pores.

He had no doubt, no doubt at all that something life-changing
had happened to her.

But what?

What could have wrought a change in a woman in such a short
time?

And when had it occurred?

The next logical thought that followed was, and by whom?

A man?

Anger burned like battery acid in his gut.

His fists clenched on the table.

If a man had touched her, he would kill him and then he
would kill her... after he had punished her.

Then she opened her mouth, took a single breath and the
purity of the sound that emerged meant he simply ceased to think at all.

Heartbreaking.

Arousing.

His dick throbbed in time to the low throaty sound of a
woman who knew and understood the sexual demands of her own body. The carnal
needs and how those needs were met by the man she loved with all of her heart.

Enricho Donatti clearly heard and clearly understood the
subtext of those emotions pouring from her very soul and what they meant.

And he understood, too, that he'd thrown away his chance to
have her.

She would never be his, not the way he needed her to be his.

He'd lost.

A fury that could hardly be contained was a storm, a need
for violence, raging inside his heart, his head.

He sat, as if carved from solid stone, absolutely still.

Hardly daring to breathe as his eyes, unblinking, stayed
upon the woman who had betrayed him.

Gia had been more than thrilled to find
her tormentor sitting up close at the table nearest the stage.

Thrilled.

And she sang each and every song from the heart and just for
him.

To show him she was her own woman and that she no longer
feared him.

But as she neared the end of the first half of her
performance, Gia instinctively knew something was wrong with Enricho Donatti.

Very wrong.

Not once had his eyes, dead eyes, left her.

Not once.

When she sang, she tended to get caught up, lost in the
music and the emotions of the lyrics. Which was why she hadn't realized that
her vampyre was threatening to burst through her skin. Now as she inhaled, all
she smelled was the mouth-watering sweet honeyed ambrosia of human blood. Her
heart went crazy in her chest, battering against her ribs as she bowed her head
in thanks for the roar of applause. But then her gums tingled as her fangs
dropped. It took an act of appalling will to turn and walk away to her dressing
room.

By the time she closed the door, locked it and leaned back
against it, her vampyre ruled.

She kicked off her heels as her claws released from her
fingers, her toes.

'Bloodlust,'
the voice of her vampyre screamed in her
head.
'Get out of here!'

Frantic now, her eyes scanned the room to find a high narrow
window with bars on the outside.

She didn't hesitate and leapt.

It took time, but she'd managed to rip out three steel bars before
there was a knock on her door.

She ignored it and disposed of another two bars, the metal
ringing on the concrete outside in a way that made her wince. What if someone
heard the noise and came to investigate?

Just as she was about to throw herself through the opening,
another knock came at her door, this time accompanied by a voice that made her
blood ice.

"Gia. It is Enricho. Open the door."

Her head tipped at an inhuman angle as her vampyre listened.

She could hear the fast beat of Donatti's black heart along
with a low voice, one of his goons, warning he was attracting attention. Then
the sound of the lumbering footsteps and the voice of Jesus Rutherford politely
informing Donatti that no one was permitted in the artist's dressing area.

And then the sound of footsteps moving away.

Another knock at the door.

"Gia," Jesus said. "Donatti's gone, but he
looked pretty pissed. If I were you I'd get changed and leave now."

Except for the part of changing her clothes, Gia absolutely
agreed and for once in her life took advice.

She was through the window and into the night.

A newborn vampyre alone, her system flooded with bloodlust in
streets teeming with human beings.

"My Lord."

Without warning, Ian Macpherson barged through the penthouse
balcony's French doors. He had two Centuri guards hot on his heels. By the
thunderous look on Ian's face and the way one of the Centuri guards had a face
like a spanked arse, Daniel read the signs.

"Bad news? What is it?"

Ian held up a cell phone.

"We've just received word Gia is at the Sly Fox
club."

Daniel blinked and absorbed the shock, the fist fear punched
to his heart.

Fuck
.

Saira moved fast. "I'll alert Ezekiel."

Daniel didn't wait and he didn't certainly didn't have time
to change into combat gear.

He ran through the French doors and took to the air.

"How the hell did she get through a secure door and
past the guards?" he wanted to know as he leapt with the Centuri across
the rooftops from building to building. They travelled faster than any car. He
just hoped they reached her before her vampyre rose in bloodlust. They hadn't
spent any time tutoring her in what it meant to become a vampyre. Frustration
was a snarl in his throat. Newborns should come with a fucking
how-to
handbook.

How had he been so stupid?

He'd made so many mistakes with her, he couldn't believe it.

"She used the maintenance stairs. Must've had the door
code. We checked CCTV and spotted her in jeans and a grey hoodie getting into
the back of the taxi. She gave us the slip," said Ian as he beaned the
Centuri guard, who'd let her get past him, with a hard stare.

"She's slippy alright," Daniel growled the words.

If Gia came out of this night in one piece, she'd pay a high
price for disobeying him.

It was time for the gloves to come off.

As could be seen by her latest act of sheer defiance, he'd
been too soft with her.

Well, that stopped now.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the Sly Fox club.

It wasn't the dive Daniel had imagined.

In fact, although the club might be smoky and dark, it
appeared the clientele were well-heeled lovers of good music.

He immediately tagged a huge African American as a doorman.
His bulk, black suit and the earpiece gave him away. Doormen knew everything
that went on in places like this.

"Gia Del Russo?" Daniel asked him.

The response was raised black brows.

"I'm her boyfriend," he added.

Beefy arms folded in front a vast chest as the brows rose
even higher.

"Seriously. She's worked for me for two years as my PA.
I'm Daniel Gillespie."

He reached into his suit pocket for a business card and
handed it to the man.

The guy took it, read the name, the company.

"She's in her dressing room on her break," he said
in a deep voice. A voice that resonated with the music of Caribbean. "No
visitors allowed."

Jeez, he wasn't getting anywhere with this guy.

"Look, she wasn't feeling well earlier, not quite
herself. I just want to make sure she's okay," he said.

The man blinked once then nodded. "Follow me."

Daniel did as he was told.

They stepped into a dingy corridor before a closed door that
badly needed a paint job.

The doorman knocked.

No answer.

Daniel looked at him.

He looked at Daniel.

The doorman tried the handle.

Locked.

"Gia, my wee darlin’. Open the door," said Daniel.

The flutter of anxiety in his gut made him try the handle
himself.

It seemed his new friend was worried, too, because he put
his shoulder to the door and it gave after one hard shove.

The room was empty, except for jeans, T-shirt, running shoes
and heels dumped on the floor.

Daniel's gaze lifted to the broken window high on the wall,
the metal bars tossed on the floor and lingered on the bloody claw marks
tracking down the concrete of the wall.

"Fuck," he whispered at the desperate evidence her
vampyre was in full control. It cost him, but he managed to force back the
panic that gripped him by the throat.

"How did she manage to do that?" the doorman asked
in an awed voice.

"She's a woman of many talents," replied Daniel.

It was nothing short of the truth.

By the time he left the club and found the alley below the
broken window, he'd been joined by Ian, Saira and a full team of Centuri.

"Where the hell has she gone?" he wondered. All
the time his enhanced hearing was straining, listening for any sounds of human
distress from a vampyre attack. If Gia had gone rogue, she'd need to be
eliminated and sent unto The Fade. And since he was responsible for this
shit-storm, he'd have the task of killing her.

Three Centuri's landed from the rooftops above.

"My Lord. We've spotted her up there." A Centuri
pointed to the top of the eight story building opposite.

As one, they looked up.

With his night vision, Daniel saw a very pale and very frightened
face peering down at them.

"Aww, she removed herself from temptation," said
Saira as she stared up into the night. "To go against her nature like that
is an amazing achievement. Go Gia!"

Daniel turned his head to stare very hard at the vampyre medic.

"Go Gia?"

Saira punched him on the shoulder.

"She won over bloodlust and the beast. Good for
her."

None of them were aware of the being, who'd merged into the brickwork
in a dark corner, watching and listening.

His eyes were those of a snake, unblinking and dead.

He tipped back his head to watch them scale the building to
the roof.

"Vampyres," Enricho Donatti whispered the word. He
certainly hadn't seen that coming. The only outward sign of his fury was the
way his hands fisted at his sides at the realization and probability Gia was,
most likely, no longer human. His mind was still reeling as he turned and
walked down the alley to his waiting enforcers and his car. Of course, it meant
he must report this development to his master. It wasn't worth the risk of
losing his life not to. However, he'd bide his time, too. As a demon in human
form, he understood that there were times when bad news might work in one's
favor at some in the future. For now Gia was well out of his reach and under
the protection of a powerful vampyre clan. For now. "No," he muttered
as his car sped away into the night. "I didn't see
that
coming at
all."

***

Gia didn't need to see Daniel's stony
face to know she was in very deep shit.

Deeeeeep shit.

She'd ignored his specific and very clear instruction not to
go to the Sly Fox club. Okay, she hadn't
quite
understood the very real dangers,
since no one had taken the time to explain to her the consequences of her
actions. However, she was a woman who owned up to her mistakes in life. And
this one was a beauty.

"I'm sorry," she said.

They were in the backseats of a limo with blacked out
windows.

Daniel sat in the corner.

He hadn't looked at her, hadn't said a single word to her
since he'd lifted her in his arms, leapt from the roof of the building and
bundled her into the back of the waiting limo.

Her bare feet were a bloody mess, the flesh and nails ripped
and they were freezing, as were her hands.

She shivered.

In an economical move, he shrugged out of his jacket and
placed it around her shoulders.

He sat back.

She sniffed and burrowed her mouth, her nose, in the warmth.

His body heat and the way the jacket smelled of Daniel made
her feel a little bit better.

But her system was jazzed, electrified, in a way that made
her realize that she was still getting used to the changes in her physical body
and in her personality.

Silence.

She tried again.

"I know you're beyond angry with me, Daniel..."

"You have no idea how I'm feeling, Gia. If you did
you'd keep your mouth shut."

She wanted to tell him about Enricho Donatti's behaviour in
the club. She wanted to tell him he'd been right about her staying in his
apartment and not mixing with humans, but a quick look at his furious face told
her that to say a single word right now might not be such a bright idea.

When the car purred to a stop in the underground parking at
the GPH building, four guards dressed in black leather awaited them.

Vampyres.

They were all uniformly tall, dark, handsome Latin's and
armed to the teeth.

Without giving her a choice, Daniel lifted her in
super-strong arms and entered the elevator.

The guards were right on their heels.

One of them pressed the button for the penthouse suite.

They didn't look at her.

Neither did Daniel.

No one spoke.

Her heart began to do a strange little dance against her
ribs.

She, and her vampyre, had a very bad feeling about this.

Very bad.

When they entered the penthouse apartment, the guards right
on their tail, Gia found Saira Pattullo laying in wait for her.

"The wanderer returns," she drawled. Then she
smiled. A genuine one that reached her dark eyes. Those eyes now did a slow
study of Gia in Daniel's arms right from her head to her toes and back up
again. "You've shredded your feet and your fingers. Must hurt. Right, a
bath first and then we'll fix the injuries and then you'll give my medics five
blood samples. They'll use force if they have to, so you'd be smart to do as
you're told."

As Daniel placed her on her feet and told her not get blood
on the carpet, Gia eyed the four
'medics'
who simply looked right
through her.

Daniel, in the meantime, was helping himself to a stiff
whisky.

She could do with one herself.

He looked up and caught her eye.

"After you've had a bath and the guys have what they
need."

Shoot
.

How the hell did he
do
that?

Her cheeks went hot.

"I'm afraid of needles," she admitted, burning
with the shame of it.

Saira smiled and this time it didn't reach her eyes.

"Don't worry. It will just be a little prick."

"I don't like you," Gia said to Saira.

The words were water off a duck's back.

"I don't like you either, but them's the breaks. Bath.
Now."

Twenty minutes later, Gia, dressed in
soft cotton sleep shorts and a matching sleeveless T-shirt, was sitting on
Daniel's bed.

Being attended to by four big handsome men wasn't really a
hardship, she supposed.

She had one at each foot and each hand.

They were quick and efficient, as if they'd done this sort
of thing thousands of times before. Maybe they had? At the moment they were
spraying some kind of antiseptic salve on her ripped nails and the deep cuts to
her flesh. The salve stung so bad it brought tears to her eyes, but she refused
to flinch or whimper. No way was she going to be a pathetic wimp in front of
Saira and her medical team. Who'd have thought the pain in the ass was a vampyre
medic? Studying the work they were doing, she had to admit she'd made a real
mess of her feet. And her hands weren't much better.

Daniel entered.

He stopped at the foot of the bed, folded his arms, and
simply glared at her.

She glared back and didn't notice Saira slide a needle into
a vein.

Her eyes flicked down to see her blood filling a vial.

Her stomach rolled, but she forced herself to ignore it as
her eyes were again captured by his.

He looked gorgeous in his soft blue jeans that fitted in all
the right places.

A favourite pair judging by the way the denim had faded at
the seams.

His T-shirt, pale grey, was tight around the biceps.

The color brought out the blue of his eyes.

Lust shimmied through her system, trembled low in her belly,
as she focused on his hard mouth.

A nice mouth.

A kissable mouth.

"No kisses for you," he said in a tone that made
her cheeks burn. "After the stunt you pulled tonight, you don't deserve
any."

Her face went nuclear with mortification.

Not nice, Daniel
, she sent the thought, saw him look
anything but sorry.

She didn't care how long it took, one of these days she was
going to learn to block her thoughts from this man.

"Not gonna happen," he said. "We're
bonded."

"How come I can't read your thoughts?"

"You can if you try. You just haven't made an attempt,
yet."

Saira finished up, removed the needle, pressed a cotton pad
with firm fingers to stop the bleeding. "All done. For being a good girl
you get a sticker and a lollipop."

Gia was proud of herself for not rising to the taunt.

"Time for you to feed," added Saira and produced
what looked like a bag of blood and a straw.

Seriously?

Gia's face said it all.

No chance.

"It's either this, or you feed from Daniel," Saira
went on relentless. "Do you want it warmed in the microwave or as it comes?"

She didn't want it either way, but she held her tongue and
accepted the bag with the straw inserted. Taking a tiny suck, she expected to
gag in disgust. Instead her brow creased as she tasted the most delicious flavor.
Sort of peppery and sweet. It was a strange combination, but she found that she
really, really, enjoyed it. In fact, it was delicious. Finishing it, she handed
Saira the empty bag.

The vampyre medic watched her carefully as she took her
pulse.

"There you go, you've got a bit of color in your skin.
It's vital you ingest hemoglobin at regular three hour intervals until your
vampyre is fully emerged. Once Constantine has run blood tests, he'll produce a
product tailored to your specific needs."