Night's Cold Kiss (16 page)

That’s right goddammit; I’m not some fragile princess, who swoons at the mere hint of trouble.
Anger at her uncle resurfaced but she bit it back. This was neither the time nor place to vent.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” an angry voice interrupted them.

Antoinette spun to find a woman’s silhouette filling the doorway, hands on hips.

“I just wanted to make sure my friend was okay.” Antoinette looked at her watch, three
A.M.
She’d been here for hours. “I was able to walk in here with no one to stop me. Shouldn’t there be a guard or something?”

The nurse’s stance softened. “He should be there but seems to have wandered off again. Anyway, that’s beside the point. Visiting hours ended long ago, you have to leave immediately.”

“Can’t you give us five more minutes?” Antoinette asked.

“I’m sorry I can’t.” The nurse’s shoulders sank as she stepped closer to the bed to check on Lucian’s pulse. “It’s against regulations.”

“Then I’ll come back tomorrow, I mean later today,” Antoinette said to Lucian.

“I won’t be here. I’m being transferred to my house upstate. I have my own security and medical team on staff.”

At least he’d be safe and she wouldn’t have to worry.

“I’m sorry, but you have to leave now,” the nurse said.

“Okay, okay.” On impulse she leaned forward and kissed Lucian’s forehead. “Be careful.”

“You too.” He gave her hand a final squeeze. “And if you need anything, let me know. The Academy will know how to contact me.”

As she left the room a fat security guard sauntered up the hall with a magazine tucked under his arm, hitching his belt.

He saw her and puffed his out his chest. “Hey, you can’t go in there.”

“I’ve been in there for several hours. I think it’s more important to know why you abandoned your post at least twice tonight. That man in there has been shot—someone tried to kill him. You’re supposed to protect him. Where were you?” She pulled the magazine from under his arm.

Playboy.
Disgusted, she tossed it back. It bounced off his chest and dropped to the floor.

His face flushed deep red, his mouth opening and shutting like a suffocating fish. “I had to take a leak.”

“Well, while you were taking a leak, I was able to walk into Mr. Moretti’s room completely unchallenged. If I’d been the killer, your charge would be long dead and you’d be in some deep shit.” Antoinette felt the heat rising up her face, burning her ears.
Not totally true, but this fat fuck doesn’t have a clue.

The rent-a-cop shuffled his feet and looked everywhere but at her, then straightened his shoulders. “Who do you think you are? You can’t give me orders.”

“Look pal, I have connections with two of Intel’s top agents and I know Oberon DuPrie personally.” The guard paled at her slight stretch of the truth. “Lift your game and I won’t mention I made this little impromptu evaluation. But next time I’ll report you to your superiors and if anything happens to Mr. Moretti, I’m holding you responsible. Not her…” Antoinette pointed at the stunned nurse, “not the hospital, but
you.”
She punctuated the last word with a poke to his jellyroll stomach.

Antoinette spun on her heel and strode toward the lift. The elevator chimed its arrival and as Antoinette hit the
down button the nurse looked sourly at the pathetic excuse for a guard then grinned at Antoinette, giving her a double thumbs-up.

She left the hospital and hailed a cab, asking the driver to drop her several blocks from Christian’s house. She needed time to think.

She was less than two blocks away when the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Then she noticed footsteps echoing off the pavement behind her. She stopped. So did the footsteps. Just one set. She didn’t fear ordinary muggers and hoodlums, but something in her gut told her that wasn’t what followed her.

She jammed her hands deeper into her jacket pockets and started off again, quickening her pace. So did her pursuer. When she reached the next street she ducked around the corner and pressed herself against the wall, holding her breath, listening to the footsteps growing closer. All of a sudden they stopped.

She waited. But no one came. Then the footsteps started again. This time from her left and down the street she’d turned into. It was the same rhythm to the steps, the same tempo echoing off the deserted street wet with the dew of the early morning.

Whoever it was had gotten ahead of her. The fine hair along her arms rose in solidarity with the ones on the back of her neck. A chill crept over her. She knew it was him.
Dante!

Antoinette crossed the street quickly and continued in her original direction. So did the footsteps of her pursuer.

Enough of these games. She slowed down her steps. The footsteps grew louder behind her; the skin between her shoulders itched and prickled with expectation. After another minute she spun, hoping to catch him off guard. But again there was no one there. He was toying with her.

Then she heard the faint whistling on the wind. Coming from above—first to the right then to the left, as if he jumped from one building to another. Soon the strains of the Mock
ing Bird lullaby came closer and louder. It was the same tune she’d heard at the conference party, the same one he’d hummed as he murdered her mother, and this time she knew she wasn’t imagining things.

“Dante…” she croaked, her voice deserting her. She swallowed and called into the early morning darkness. “Dante, I know you’re there. Stop these games. Come out and face me.”

“Well now, little one.” He mocked from the shadows to her right. “Aren’t you brave?” Now he was behind her.

“They tell me you’re dead,” she said.

His icy voice rumbled with what could have been a chuckle. “I know. Delicious isn’t it?” The direction changed constantly as if he circled her. “And your father was my murderer. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”

Terror froze her heartbeat. Her feet wouldn’t move. He moved, quick and silent. She felt his breath in her hair for an instant then it was gone, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it. A chill crept up her legs.

“How did you escape the warehouse fire?” she asked.

His laughter crackled all around, surrounding her. Suddenly he was there, standing before her, wrapped in a dark gray cloak that hid everything except his face. When he smiled she saw his fangs extended and ready.

“Now, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” he said. “But let’s just say that I was fortunate the warehouse was over water and I had a friend willing to help me out with a little push. I did give him a hand, or should I say finger?”

“So whose body did fall from the window?”

“Some poor unfortunate newly turned Aeternus in the right place at the wrong time.”

“Now you’re here, tormenting me,” she whispered. “Why?”

“We have unfinished business, you and I. Your mother may have been the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted,” he said, his tone dripping with honeyed sarcasm. “But you were even sweeter standing there in your nightgown, your dolly under your arm, your eyes big and round. I just wanted to eat
you up. And now you are here, looking so much like your mother. The others are just pale imitations.”

“The fang-whores.” Her hands shook, a chill crept up her backbone. She’d been right.

“Ah yes.” His face softened to a misty expression. “Their screams are songs to my ears. I wanted to make your mother scream. I want to make
you
scream.” He focused on her. “Oh yes, I will make you sing for me.” His eyes grew bright and piercing, burning her with their heat.

“No, I won’t,” she said, clenching her fists to stem the fear pumping through her. “I’m going to stop you.”

“How, little one? How will you do that?” He smiled that same deadly smile he had on the night he drew the blade across her mother’s creamy skin.

“I don’t know yet, but I will.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.

“And what if I stop you first?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but nothing came out.

“How can you stop me? You’re just a human girl. Can you stop me from doing this?” Suddenly he was pinning her arms behind her back. She hadn’t even seen him move. “Tell me, has Christian tasted your delights?” he whispered in her ear.

How did he do it? He’d turned her into a helpless child again as he leaned closer, his breath crawling over her skin as he sniffed at her neck. “What a woman you are. You make me so hot. Can you feel it?”

She could, pressed against her ass. Her stomach heaved.

“You’re mine, little-one, all mine. And I will devour you.” He drew closer to her throat—her skin feeling soiled where he touched. “But not tonight, not yet.”

It wasn’t until she’d fallen back a step that she realized he’d released her. She ran.

“Stop.” His voice commanded before she took more than a few steps.

She did, her feet rooted to the ground as if glued.

“Turn.”

And she did.

“Look at me.”

Try as she might she couldn’t stop her eyes from gravitating toward him.

A loud snarl came from her left. Cerberus stood in the street; hackles raised, teeth bared, and menace rumbling in his chest.

“Well now,” Dante chuckled. “This has to be one of Viktor’s pups.”

The dog crept forward a step, his head low to the ground. The lips of his muzzle peeled back to reveal long, sharp canines and his gaze fixed firmly on Dante.

Dante waved his hand and Cerberus was lifted off his feet and thrown through the air, landing several feet away. The impact pushed the air from the dog’s lungs in a loud whoosh.

Antoinette froze. She’d never seen anything like it before. No Aeternus or dreniac she’d ever heard of possessed telekinetic powers. This was something new.

The injured animal whimpered and she ran to his side as he struggled to his feet, wrapping her arm around his neck. Dante would tear him to pieces in the blink of an eye if Cerberus tried to attack again.

Cerberus’s growl deepened and he snapped, saliva dripping from his lower jaw. Antoinette felt his tension thrumming against her chest as his body shook with rage.

“Well.” Dante made a flourishing bow. “Another time, little-one.” With an overdramatic swirl of his cape he was gone.

Antoinette would’ve laughed if the fear hadn’t stolen her humor. She rubbed Cerberus’s thick fur, burying her face in it as she caught her breath.

“Thank you, my guardian angel.” She scratched behind his ears and hugged him close once more. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Cerberus followed close behind, occasionally stopping
to look back and growl. She reached the alley between the houses and moved to the drainpipe. After one final rub and a kiss to the top of his head, Cerberus stood in silent sentry as Antoinette climbed back up the drainpipe. When she reached the window he descended the side stairs and entered through the pet door as she pulled herself onto the windowsill. She should’ve left a lamp on—the room was too dark to see.

Suddenly she was yanked into the room and a rough hand snapped over her mouth. She was shoved onto the bed, pinned with the weight of a body on top of her. Only an Aeternus had that kind of strength. Her heart hammered against her chest. Dante had come to take her after all. He’d fooled her, and when she thought she was safe, he’d come. She tried to scream but the hand muffled the sound and a breath brushed her ear. She tensed, closed her eyes, and waited for the teeth against her throat.

“Where have you been?” Christian’s voice tight was with suppressed anger as she lay beneath him. “I told you to stay here. Don’t you know how dangerous it is out there right now?”

Her eyes flung open, relief blooming in their depths. Not the emotion he’d expected. Then he smelled the fear soaked into her pores. Her reaction had been a little too violent. Something had happened out there.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

His hand muffled her words and she struggled beneath him again but with nowhere near the violence as before. A frown creased her brow as she tried to move her head. With her human eyes she wouldn’t be able to see him in the darkened room, though he could see every detail, every grimace, and every frown.

He removed his hand but her body still trembled beneath his.

“Do you mind getting off me now?” she asked impatiently.

“Apparently I do,” he sighed against her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair.

Her fear was intoxicating and the touch of her breath
against his cheek did little to alleviate his excited state. His fangs descended, long and sharp.

No, not now.
He pushed away, the cold air rushed between them.

“Where did you go tonight?” he demanded.

Antoinette reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. Christian turned away from the brilliance.

“To see Lucian.”

“Are you insane? Why didn’t you wait for me or…or Viktor to go with you?” He turned around to see her thunderous face.

“You had no right telling your butler to keep me locked in the house like a prisoner. I’ve been a fully licensed Venator for several years now. I don’t need you, Viktor, or your servant to look after me.”

She was right of course—under normal circumstances. But these were far from normal circumstances. Why couldn’t she see that? And why should he care?

“Look, we don’t know what is going on or why Sir Roger was murdered. Until we can make some sense of this I don’t think it’s safe—”

“I don’t care, I do not need a babysitter, and I won’t tolerate being kept prisoner.”

“We just need to know where you are in case—” Christian stopped.

“In case the killer tries for me and you’re not there to catch him.” Antoinette finished for him. “I’m not stupid.”

“We were going to talk to you about it, in fact it’s why I came to your room tonight, and then found it empty.”

She crossed her arms and looked away.

She’d given in far too easily; he’d expected more of an argument. “So you’ll be more careful?”

“Of course.”

“That may not be necessary,” Viktor’s voice called from the doorway.

They both turned to find him with Cerberus by his side. The dog went straight to Antoinette and licked her hand.
Viktor cocked his head to the side and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m glad you’re both here,” he said, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “I’ve found him.”

“Who?” Antoinette asked.

Christian took a step forward. “Grigore’s contact—you’ve found him?”

Viktor nodded, grinning widely. “It’s Williams. He’s been right under our noses the whole time. And what’s more, he’s agreed to meet me at the same location we’d arranged with Grigore.”

“Andrew Williams? The Ambassador’s assistant?” Christian asked.

“Yes, that’s the one.” Viktor’s eyes danced with excitement.

It was hard to believe someone that close to the Ambassador would actually associate with a fugitive. “How did he get involved with Grigore?” Christian asked.

Viktor straightened and came completely into the room. “Apparently they went to the Academy of Parahuman Studies in Budapest together.

“So, what now?” Antoinette asked as she stroked Cerberus’s head.

“He wants to meet—after sunset tonight.”

“This seems far too convenient,” Christian said. “I’m coming with you.”

Viktor shook his head. “I have to meet him alone. That was part of the deal.”

“Last time you were supposed to meet, he never showed and Grigore disappeared,” Christian said. “How do we know this Williams guy didn’t sell Grigore out? It smells like a setup.”

“I agree with Christian,” Antoinette said, surprising them both.

“All right, but he can’t see you,” Viktor conceded.

“The meeting place is at a club, right? He wouldn’t see us if we were just some other customers sitting separately,” Antoinette suggested.

“Now, wait a minute.” Christian stepped between her and Viktor. “You can’t come.”

“And why not? Haven’t we just had this discussion?” She lifted her chin.

“She’s right, Christian.” Viktor came to her defense. “And if you looked like a couple on a date, it would be the perfect cover.”

“What?” Antoinette and Christian chorused together.

“No way,” Christian said. The thought of being that close to her, like on a date—he could barely keep his hands off her as it was.

“Why not?” Antoinette scowled and shoved her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Come on, Christian, it’s undercover—you know, your job. You do remember how to do that, don’t you?” Viktor said, his grin getting wider.

Christian ran his hand through his hair and ignored his friend’s jibe. “Okay—but we’ll have to come up with a good plan.”

Finally a breakthrough, a real one. The thrill of the hunt sparked in his veins. “So did he say anything about what happened last time?”

“We didn’t really have much time to talk, but he did say it was Grigore who called off the last meeting.”

“And you believe him?” Antoinette asked. “Wouldn’t Papa have contacted you as well if that was the case?”

Viktor frowned and placed his hands behind his back, pacing while his mind worked. Antoinette could almost hear the cogs turning.

He stopped and looked at her. “At this point, I don’t know what to believe. I was deep undercover on another case and Grigore was keeping contact to a minimum at that point. All I know is it would have taken something extremely important for him to risk breaking comms silence.”

“But we still don’t know what this Williams guy has to do with my father,” she said.

“Look, he’s the only link we have. One way or another Williams knows something, and I aim to find out what it is.”

After Viktor and Christian left, Antoinette leaned against the door and closed her eyes. She’d had a hard time trying to keep it together while they were here but luckily she’d pulled it off. Now that she was alone she let her knees give out and slid to the floor, brushing a shaky hand over her face.

There was no denying it this time. It was definitely Dante and he was definitely real. And he was also the Fang-whore Slasher.

Cerberus licked her ear and she ruffled his fur before hugging him close. “You saw him too, didn’t you, boy? You know I wasn’t hallucinating?”

The dog tilted his head at her again, pricked his ears, then looked toward the window and growled, although not with any real menace. She rubbed his fur. “Do you want to stay and keep me company tonight, boy?”

The dog yapped and jumped onto the end of the bed. He circled around and kneaded a comfortable spot then lay down with his head on his paws, cocking one doggy eyebrow at her. Antoinette got up from the floor and joined him on the bed. She gave him a quick pat on the head then stood to undress before crawling beneath the blankets.

As she lay back against the pillows she thought of Christian. When she’d realized it was him in her room and not Dante, she went straight from terror to temptation. The weight of his body on hers made her want to wrap her legs around his waist as he buried himself in her. Dante and Christian were both a danger to her—they made her lose control in different ways: one through fear and the other through desire.

She was going to have to learn to protect her emotions if she was to survive either of them.

The crowded smoke-filled club hummed with dance music and loud conversation. Antoinette sipped her cocktail
through a straw. Christian said it was a Virgin Mary, Viktor’s idea of a joke. Normally she wasn’t partial to tomato juice but she found herself enjoying the Tabasco kick.

Even though Antoinette’s drink was alcohol-free her head still spun thanks to secondhand smoke from the joints being passed around in the next booth.

“Come on, you two,” Viktor’s voice buzzed through the electronic receiver in her ear. “At least try and look like you’re having a good time. You’re supposed to be on a date.”

“You’ve obviously never seen any of my dates,” Antoinette whispered, glancing down at her overexposed cleavage for the hundredth time to make sure the small microphone hadn’t popped into view, or anything else for that matter. She looked up and caught Christian staring in the same direction.

“Hey!” She clicked her fingers in front of her face. “I’m up here.”

Christian’s smoldering eyes dragged up to her face and a slow smile tilted his mouth. “I can’t help it, they’re just so…there.” Again his gaze dropped to her chest.

Part of her was insulted and the rest was pleased. She crossed her arms, which only made things worse. Her breasts squeezed together and pushed out even more. As Christian leaned forward the hunger in his expression increasing, she resisted the urge to pull on her coat.

“What time is he supposed to arrive again, Viktor?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

They all wore the tiny electronic receivers in their ears and mikes tucked inconspicuously away. The noisy crowd and the music made it too difficult for Christian and Viktor to rely on their enhanced senses alone.

Out of the corner of her eye Antoinette saw Viktor pick up his glass and hold it near his mouth as if drinking. “Half an hour ago. Maybe he’s been detained.”

She didn’t know who he was trying to convince more, himself or them.

“Do you really think he’s going to show now?” she asked.

“Give it a little more time,” Viktor responded.

A blond hooker sidled up to Viktor, placing her hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. He turned toward her, interest apparent on his face even from this distance. He reluctantly shook his head and turned back to his drink. The blonde moved on to the next potential customer.

After a couple of mocktails Antoinette couldn’t fight the urge to use the bathroom any longer and stood.

Christian reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Where are you going?”

“To freshen up,” she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “I don’t have your…constitution.”

“Sorry.” He released her.

With a hitch of her hip she teetered on the leg-breakingly high heels that completed her skanky disguise.

Christian tilted his head to watch her walk away, admiring the way those stilettos set a waggle in her stride. A minuscule strip of leather only just covered the swell of her buttocks, showing those never-ending legs to full advantage. It rode low enough on her hips to show the dragon tattoo nestled between the twin dimples—all except for the tip of the tail.

She had topped off the disguise with a plunging black halter-neck top. Her loose hair swayed against her almost naked back in time with the movement of her hips. God, he loved to watch her walk away.

Christian had never been into sleaze but a sudden image of taking her hard against the wall of the dingy hall leading to the bathrooms, her legs wrapped around his waist, had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

When Antoinette returned she stood next to the table with her hands on her hips. “All this sitting around is making me kinda antsy. Let’s dance.”

Crap.
“I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m dancing, with or without you.”

She slipped off her shoes and made her way barefoot onto
the crowded dance floor, turned, and locked eyes with him.

Raising both hands above her head she began to move her hips and only her hips. She turned her back to him and lifted her hair to expose the creamy curve of her neck while her hips continued to undulate—her spine curving and curling in time to the beat.

She had complete control over every muscle, every movement of her body. His erection swelled painfully and twitched with each roll and jerk of her luscious curves. The leather pants he had on suddenly seemed several sizes too small.

“You go girl.” Viktor’s voice pierced Christian’s captivation.

“Want to join me, Viktor?” she asked. “Christian isn’t in the mood.”

Oh, I’m definitely in the mood—just not for dancing.

“Tempting, very tempting,” Viktor answered. “But I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now.”

Antoinette was soon surrounded by a half dozen men all vying for her attention. However, she seemed lost to the music and paid little attention to her wannabe partners as she twisted and turned, rolling her hips with her stomach rippling like a slow hypnotic wave.

“Oh my…where did you learn moves like that?” Viktor asked her what Christian was thinking.

“My aunt Katerina taught all the girls in the family belly dancing. She said girls should at least learn something of the old ways, other than hunting.” Antoinette whispered as a guy grabbed her from behind, grinding his groin against her.

Christian leapt out of the chair ready to rip the offender’s arms off. But he needn’t have bothered. In a blur of movement she brought her elbow around to connect with the would-be lothario’s chin. If not for the smug tilt to her mouth, Christian could almost have believed it was accidental.

However, as one fell off, another took his place. A growl built in Christian’s chest, but he forced himself to sit and endure it. Antoinette could take care of herself. She wouldn’t
be impressed with him wading in to pull her out from the middle of the pack of lusty human males. No matter how much his instincts were screaming at him to do just that.

“Okay, boys and girls—I think it’s time to track down that son of a bitch and use a more forceful method of persuasion,” Viktor said.

“Finally!”
Antoinette’s voice husked through his earpiece.

Christian glanced across to the bar and silently thanked Viktor for putting him out of his misery. Antoinette untangled herself from the crowd and made her way back to the table much to the disappointment of her now-considerable group of admirers.