VAEWOLF: Damn the Darkness By Eliza March
Glancing around the upscale Goth bar called The Loreans, Dylan caught sight of the dark haired beauty--exactly the one he was looking for.
Antoinette's gaze shot from side to side before she warily stared him down. She had the pale iridescent skin of a vampire, and for a brief moment, her eyes flashed silver with renewed interest. Déjà vous. Some things never changed. Dylan would remember that and reached out to scan her mind. The pretty female vampire, a woman he'd once known a very long time ago, looked the same...at least until she approached. Close up, her eyes showed the ravages of time—if not on her face and body—it was evident in her mind. Physically she didn't look much older than the Antoinette he'd left behind. At first thought he ignored the differences, but what he couldn't ignore was how much harder she looked.
Time does that to a soul and hers was older and more damaged than even his.
Time does that to a soul and hers was older and more damaged than even his.
A made vampire...not born like Amyra, Antoinette's scent didn't have the strong cinnamon scent of a born vamp. Nevertheless, he remembered her flavor and her scent. He was hungry, and her blood was tempting, even if she wasn't.
Dylan needed the strength to wade through the centuries of death and betrayal he saw in her mind. For the information he needed, he'd have to convince her to cooperate. He suspected she might have the answers he needed, but they could be buried deeply in her suppressed memories if she had them.
“Long time no see. Wanna dance?” She swayed her hips to the beat of the music, a slow sensual grind.
“If you let me have a taste of you. Otherwise I'm sticking with this.” Dylan indicated the pitcher of beer.
“How can you stomach that stuff?”
“My secret." He lifted the glass and drank. "You going to let me have that taste, lass?”
“Will you see to it I'm satisfied?” She dipped low giving him a good view of her tits, still as perky as ever.
Dylan just grunted arrogantly.“Do you doubt my mental acuity? Have I ever left you wanting?”
“No. You just left me.”
Dylan lifted an arched brow and tilted his head to one side...like really? “We had an agreement…You broke it. When the Hunters arrived, I didn't stick around for explanations.” He stood to his full height knowing his size intimidated most men, but this little vamp had been around the block a few times. She'd always been the scrappy sort.
“Let by gones be by gones between old friends.” She waved a hand non-chalantly.
He chuckled, but thought never. With his arm around her tiny waist, he walked her to the dance floor, and when he pulled her close and rubbed his erection against her, she smiled.
...And he felt sick. Sick because he was touching someone other than Caitlin and sick because he'd been forced to play these games in order to find a way for him to stay with his life mate.
He chuckled, but thought never. With his arm around her tiny waist, he walked her to the dance floor, and when he pulled her close and rubbed his erection against her, she smiled.
...And he felt sick. Sick because he was touching someone other than Caitlin and sick because he'd been forced to play these games in order to find a way for him to stay with his life mate.
Antoinette wrapped her arms around his waist and ground back. “Why do I believe you're here for more than a taste.”
"Because I am here for more."
The first time he'd met Antoinette had been over three hundred years ago, in the brothel the night before his death, and he'd been inebriated then. The last time he'd seen her had been in Paris right before she almost cost him his head. He'd been drunk then, too. But he was stone cold sober tonight, and he wasn't making the mistake of trusting his life to the little vixen this time.
The first time he'd met Antoinette had been over three hundred years ago, in the brothel the night before his death, and he'd been inebriated then. The last time he'd seen her had been in Paris right before she almost cost him his head. He'd been drunk then, too. But he was stone cold sober tonight, and he wasn't making the mistake of trusting his life to the little vixen this time.
The music wailed on as he danced Antoinette in the direction of a dark private corner so they could accomplish their business. Along the way, he swayed to the rhythm of the sexy music and cupped her fine rounded ass. She smelled of cardamom, not as strongly as he suspected he did, but he checked for vervain when he sniffed her neck to make sure her blood wasn't tainted.
Copyright All right reserved Eliza March
Copyright All right reserved Eliza March
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