Scarlet Assassin (3 page)

“Gaylord, please,” Selene said, studying her notes.

“Are you requesting to speak to the High Lord of the Eastern Coven?”

“Are you serious?” Leaning back against her chair, she pulled her long dark braid from behind her and flipped it over the seat. Perhaps it was time for a haircut and a change? No, she didn’t do changes like that. She was who she was, for now.

“I wouldn’t kid about the High Lord. For future reference, please refer to him as High Lord of the Eastern Coven, Gaylord Van der Plume.” The nasally voice demanded.

Selene rolled her eyes.

“Geeze, what a pompous ass.” A few more words were spat through the phone at Selene. Pulling it away from her ear, she yelled back, “I would like to speak to…oh fine. I’d like to speak to the High Lord of the Eastern Coven, Gaylord Van der Plume.” She listened. “What do you mean I need to make an appointment?”

The voice on the other end gave her instructions to follow and then waited for Selene’s reply.

“Fine, when is the
High Lord
available?” Scribbling frantically, Selene drove the tip of the pen through several sheets of paper in frustration. “Tuesday at nine p.m. is fine. Yes, I know how to get there.”

She didn’t wait for the niceties of ending the conversation, slamming her cell phone closed. No, he couldn’t be like anyone else and conduct business over the phone. The way they clung to the antiquated ideas of old was infuriating. Now she would have to trek to the coven for a meeting with Gaylord Van der Plume. She knew why he insisted on a face-to-face. He wanted to exert some control over her but he was in for a big surprise. She wasn’t the old Selene.

****

Rolling her eyes, she wished the bastard were standing close enough that she could choke the dead out of him.

“Fuck. Really, Gaylord? Why do you make me go through all that pomp and circumstance bullshit every fucking time? Asshole.”

“Ah, Selene. To what do I owe this pleasure? It’s been so long, you rarely are seen at the coven lately.”

“Well, I’m not feeling a real connection to the old ways. Besides, you guys aren’t that relevant anymore.”

“Perhaps not to you, but since you’ve left we’ve grown. Expanded into Central American, South America, and well, Africa’s been very good to us, too.”

“Good for you, Gaylord. I want to talk to you about De Marcus.”

“Butch.”

“What?”

“I hate Gaylord. Call me Butch.”

“Seriously,
Butch
?”

“Much better, now where were we? What happened to you Selene? You were one of us.” Butch stood and walked around the massive brocade wingback. His fingers caressed it as one did a lover. “When you killed your master you came to us and became a part of the coven.
We
became your family.” He stood resting his elbows along the back of the chair.

“That was a long time ago, Gaylord.” He flinched at her use of his given name. She did it to piss him off. Selene wanted him to remember she’d known him a long time and trying to lord over her wasn’t going to settle well.

“The coven is still here for you.”

“Maybe, but I’m not here for the coven.” Her steely gaze pierced Butch’s own cold metallic stare. “The coven is old school but times change and so should the teachings. You’ve lost the ability to move forward with the changing times.”

“No one complains about the Catholic Church and its old, stalwart teaching.”

“Technology has forced change. The church suffers from its lack of change, it’s gushing parishioners. I can’t believe you, of all people, are sitting here preaching to me of the church’s virtues. You clearly have lost your mind, Gaylord.”

“Selene, Selene, Selene,” he said, tapping the chair for emphasis. “Come back to the coven. We are stronger than ever. We’ve added to our numbers, branched out. We’ve strengthened the covens overseas and have moved forward.”

“You said that before.” She pointed out the obvious.

He wasn’t deterred, as he slung his short frame back into the chair and continued, “We can use more strong, determined women with your skills.”

Selene knew what he was implying. Few who still lived in the coven could walk in the daylight. Their old ways kept them firmly rooted in the darkness. Evil always sought out evil. It thrived on the chaos, the power and the weakness of others. To go to the coven would mean giving up the freedom, strength and the light. She wasn’t going backwards.

“Thanks, but I’d like to keep my options open. You’ll be the first to know if I change my mind,” she said sharply. “Now, can we get to the reason I’m here?”

“Of course.”

“I want De Marcus.”

“You know we are very unhappy with your chosen profession.”

“I didn’t come here for your blessing. I came here to finish a job. I want De Marcus.”

The coven had sent Selene a message a very long time ago voicing their disapproval that Selene had chosen to be nothing more than a glorified hit man. She sloughed it off and continued to do what she was good at, killing people. More importantly her clientele, often vampires themselves, were the ones dictating that vampires were the object of their disdain. The occupation had few perks, but one of them was that people cut her a wide berth, which she rather enjoyed.

“I don’t know where he is right now.”

“Look, Gaylord, don’t wordsmith this shit. You shouldn’t be trying to protect an asshole like that. You just might find yourself going down with him.”

“Is that a threat, Selene? Because if it is, the coven has deeper pockets and more people on the payroll than you have time to defend against.” Butch suddenly looked pissed. His jovial demeanor was replaced with an all-business attitude.

Selene didn’t frighten easy and he should know that. She could push back just as much as he could, only she didn’t have to answer to anyone. The coven had strict rules about killing another vampire and he was limited in what he could and couldn’t do as far as she was concerned. It surprised her that the coven, more importantly Butch, was protecting De Marcus. De Marcus was a vampire trying to build an empire, and that was in direct conflict with the coven. Worse, he was trolling the bottom of the barrel in his recruitment efforts, and add to that the fact that he tried to kill AJ and Clarissa, should be unforgiveable.

“I’m not threatening Gaylord, I’m stating a fact.

Chapter Four

AJ worried the pencil she was biting. De Marcus was starting to concern her—better said, he was still loose and a problem. Clarissa’s life was at risk and she worked every day to keep Clarissa safe. She’d rewired her penthouse suite with cameras that captured every movement down to a mouse flicking its whiskers. The motion sensors were sensitive enough to catch the slightest draft wafting the drapes and her staff was on constant alert for any possible breach in security.

“Hey baby.” Clarissa wrapped her arms around AJ’s neck and nuzzled her. “You work too much.” She twisted the chair around and planted herself in AJ’s lap.

“Do I now?”

“Hmm, you do, my love.”

The throbbing in Clarissa’s neck was like a beacon calling to AJ’s lost ship. A quick flick of her incisors and she would be on a collision path with her lover. They entwined, her lips pulling on Clarissa’s neck as she sucked. Her heart thumped loud enough that she knew Clarissa could hear her intent.

“Yes, I do know what you’re thinking, Sweetheart.” Clarissa slid her tongue across AJ’s full lips. “I’ve known what you’re thinking all night. I’m surprised I had to come to you. Are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?”

“Well.” Clarissa, popped a button, then closed her eyes and inhaled. “You’ve been preoccupied and…” Another button popped off AJ’s shirt and skittered across the floor. “I’ve been sending you signals all night,” Clarissa said, ripping AJ’s shirt open.

“Aw, that was my favorite shirt.” AJ stood and lifted her up, wrapping Clarissa’s legs around her waist.

“I didn’t know you had a favorite shirt.”

“I don’t but—”

Clarissa pressed her lips against AJ’s. Warm, wet tongues dueled for position as AJ slipped her hand behind Clarissa and released the snaps on her bra. Pulling her hips closer, AJ reached around front with her other hand and tweaked a nipple. A squeal and Clarissa was loose and running for the bedroom.

The chase was on.

“You can run, my love…” AJ sprinted around the bed. She caught Clarissa by the waist and pulled her down on top of her. Flipping Clarissa onto her back, she straddled her hips and positioned herself over her lover. As they locked their gaze, AJ ached for her. She felt it in her bones, her heart clenched and she couldn’t stop herself. Piercing the soft skin of Clarissa’s neck, she lowered down and licked the trickle of blood that oozed out. The tingle that shot through her landed solidly on her clit. Her hips begged for hard contact as she bucked against Clarissa. It was all she could do not to return the favor and rip Clarissa’s clothing to shreds. Divesting herself of her ripped blouse she pushed Clarissa’s up and craned her neck for a taste of the dark, pebbled areolas. AJ moved from one breast to the other, flicking the tips and suckling each one before Clarissa pushed her lower. She nipped the soft skin of Clarissa’s tight, flinching stomach as she worked her way farther down.

Clarissa pleaded for the kind of relief only AJ could provide. AJ lifted her hips and tossed slacks and panties to the floor. Standing, she looked down, admiring Clarissa’s innocent beauty. She glowed, still looking like the inexperienced lover AJ had known so many decades earlier. Outstretched hands beckoned AJ to join her on the bed, and she couldn’t resist the offer.

“You’re so bad, my love.”

“Am I? In what way?” AJ smiled, slipping her clothes off and snuggling next to Clarissa.

Clarissa guided AJ’s hand between her legs. Flattening AJ’s palm against her, she slid a finger into her wetness. She was practically purring as AJ started to work Clarissa’s opening wider. Two fingers paused just at the entrance, before Clarissa pushed them inside. A groan followed a flood of wetness that coated AJ’s hand.

“You make me wait for you. I haven’t learned patience in all these many years,” Clarissa said, grinding against AJ’s hand. “I don’t want to wait to be together ever again. Promise me you’ll…”

The sensation of a flush spreading through Clarissa made AJ surge with heat. Every sensation, every touch, every nuanced emotion worked its way through both of their bodies, heightening AJ’s already hypersensitive awareness. The tremor before the rush of Clarissa’s orgasm made AJ’s body jerk at the same time. Slipping her tongue into Clarissa’s mouth, she pushed deeper. Urgency replaced patience, need replaced want.

****

A sliver of light sliced across their bodies. Running her finger through it, Clarissa marveled at the fact she could even do so without pain. She’d been a light walker for decades. She didn’t remember exactly when it happened, but she suspected gradually. She’d played a game of hide and seek with the sunlight for a century. In the past, she’d push her hand into the shade and pull it back, eventually noticing that the warmth during the day didn’t affect her. A hand, then an arm, and finally her whole body embraced the opportunity to be whole again. Sunglasses allowed her to sit in the warmth of the light. Who knew there was
warm
shade as Clarissa referred to the half sun, half shade, but there it was, Darwin’s theory in action.
The survival of the fittest adapted with time.
While her eyes had a tougher time, eventually they’d adjusted, too.

Clarissa let her finger follow the sliver of light along her lover’s body, across her tight ass, down a thigh and off. Her tongue dipped into the light as she traced it.

“Oh, you’re ready for more?” AJ turned over and pulled Clarissa on top of her.

Resting her chin on her fists, Clarissa could only smile as her gaze met AJ’s. Her hair fanned out across the pillow in odd directions and the rosy blush colored her pale cheeks.

“Do you think we’ll ever tan?”

AJ’s brow furrowed. Staring at the lips that had quirked up at the question, Clarissa let her finger trace the shallow bow of AJ’s top lip. Before she could say anything, AJ had snapped her lips around the finger and started to suck on it.

“I see you’re not in the mood for pillow talk.” Clarissa squirmed as the suction sent a jolt through her.

Pulling her finger back, she placed her hands on each side of AJ’s head and tried to lift herself up. AJ took control, rolling her quickly onto her back.

“I’m not in the mood for pillow talk.” AJ straddled Clarissa and pressed her hands above her head. With Clarissa trapped, she attacked her neck again. The loss of control sent Clarissa reeling and anxiety pierced her body. Her fight or flight response asserted control of her mind. She bucked her hips against AJ.

“Stop.”

AJ popped her head up with a confused look. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” Clarissa tried to wiggle out of AJ’s grasp. “Please, get off.” Panic laced her voice. She knew AJ could feel it.

Easy, my love, I was just responding in kind to your touch.

I’m sorry, I was feeling trapped. I could feel my throat tighten, and my body…

Clarissa’s body shook uncontrollably, forcing her to curl into herself.

Baby, what’s wrong. What did I do?

AJ wrapped her in a protective embrace. She sensed AJ’s concern for her instantly, but that couldn’t neutralize the fear inside. A flashback suddenly overtook her.

“Control it, Clarissa. I said control it, damn it.” De Marcus swung the leather strap over her back.

The sting of the leather bit into her back as she lay naked on the floor of the cottage. Her body was betraying her mind. Another bite of the leather across her back and she felt her incisors lengthen.

“I said control it, you bitch,” he yelled, as he swung again.

Clarissa cursed him under her breath. He watched as another vampire brought her to orgasm again, only to beat it out of her. She panted as she tried to focus on something other than the betrayal of her body. Another tingle shot through her body and then the strap hit her again.