SHERRILL QUINN
Contents
“You sure you don’t want me, cher?” The hot, wet glide of a tongue on her lower lip had Dori Falcon clenching her thighs together. Still, she couldn’t stem the tide of lust that crashed through her core.
Detective Jake Boudreau leaned against her, pressing her more firmly against the wall next to her hotel room. This close to him she could feel the heat of his big body and smell his tantalizing scent—a spicy mixture of cologne, coffee, and male.
She was sure she did want him. She was equally sure that the more she was around him, the harder it would be when things ended between them.
Why did he have to be so sexy, so hard to resist? He was human and she was a witch. She really shouldn’t feel this attraction to him. It would only lead to heartache when he rejected her heritage.
In her experience, he would reject her. That’s what men did to witches once they discovered their secret.
All in all, it was better than being burned at the stake, she supposed.
Boudreau was just so yummy. He tasted wonderful, like rich, dark mocha. Her favorite.
As her body tightened with need, Dori squirmed. Damn, but he was one fine looking man.
She had to pull herself together. She was in New Orleans to find her brother, not continue an affair that realistically had no hope of going anywhere. She’d been told her entire life to stay with her own kind, the Magicks. To bond with a human was to court sorrow.
But Boudreau seemed different somehow. For one thing, his aura was bright with honesty and loyalty, and the ever-present humor. There was no hint of subterfuge or bigotry. In Dori’s experience, auras didn’t lie.
The other thing, the really big other thing was that she had never felt like this about a man. Not once in her thirty-three years had she had such an overpowering need to join with a man. Oh, she’d been attracted to men, had been aroused to the point of madness, but it had all been completely physical.
Never emotional.
With Jake, her emotions were definitely involved. All of them, it seemed. Tenderness, lust, fear, sadness, happiness…you name it, she felt it.
So, what now? Should she take a chance on him?
Could she?
What if she didn’t?
With a broad palm curved around the base of her skull he tilted her head to the angle he wanted and slanted his mouth over hers. It was the kiss of a man staking his claim—a hungry, dominating kiss, one that spoke to his need and desire.
He ate at her mouth like a starving man, each kiss blending into another until it seemed like one endless caress. Finally he gentled, as if he’d been able to take the edge off his need. His tongue slipped into her mouth in a silken stroke that curled her toes.
A moan left her throat and was swallowed into his mouth. She pressed against him, feeling his thick cock pressing into her belly, his firm chest pushing against the hard tips of her breasts.
It was too much.
It wasn’t enough.
She wanted him, but she was so afraid.
At last he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. “You taste like whiskey an’ honey, my favorite.”
He tasted like coffee and spice. He tasted like…home.
“I’ve missed you, cher.” His deep voice was as raspy as the sexy stubble on his jaw. “This long distance thing is hell.” He drew away and stared down at her with eyes dark with lust and something more. Something…
Deeper.
Dori had never thought of having anything other than a fling with him whenever she was in town. She couldn’t let herself think of anything more.
She thought her heart would burst from her chest, it pounded so hard. She had to get away from this man before she made a mistake. In the mixed-up state she was in, sleeping with him tonight was out of the question. “I…I have to go, Jake. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She ducked under his arm, avoiding the good night kiss she knew he meant to give her, and escaped into the safety of her hotel room. As much as her body wanted to, getting involved with this man on a level any deeper than the casual arrangement they had was a bad idea.
Of course, one more date wouldn’t hurt, right? One more taste, that’s all she wanted.
She pressed her cheek against the door, heard Boudreau’s heavy sigh and the tread of his boots as he walked down the hall toward the exit.
Away from her.
The next day her brother Art showed up, and she left New Orleans without saying good-bye.
Six months later
Dori sighed and stared at Jake Boudreau’s implacable face. Dark brows were drawn down over eyes that held a look of concern sparked with a small amount of irritation.
Not just because of the way she’d left things between them six months ago, but also because here she was again, trying to encourage him to help her find her wayward younger brother.
Arthur Falcon had come to the Big Easy to meet a very dangerous and unpredictable witch named Alex Sabin. Art planned something that Dori had tried and tried to talk him out of. As much as she’d loved her father, trying to bring him back to life was not a good idea.
In fact, it was a very bad idea.
Now Art was missing. According to Sabin, her brother never showed up at their rendezvous point. At least, that’s what he’d said. But Sabin was enigmatic. Why he’d agreed to let Art use the Eye of Bastet in the ritual resurrection was still a mystery to her. The Eye was dangerous, coveted by all those who served the cause of evil and wished to see witches destroyed.
Though if anyone could control the amulet’s power and protect them, it was Sabin. His power was scary, even to someone like her. He had stronger magick than any witch she knew, than any she’d ever known of. No one knew why.
Others of her kind didn’t trust him. But she knew from his clear, clean aura that he was good and decent, even if there was a shadow in his aura that she’d never seen before.
But now she couldn’t find Sabin, either. He’d gone to ground after informing her of her brother’s disappearance.
Which left her with Boudreau. The one man she should stay away from. The one man she hadn’t been able to forget.
If she told him why Art had come back to New Orleans he’d never believe her. The reason wasn’t important, anyway. She needed Boudreau’s help.
“It’s different this time. He was supposed to meet someone at the old St. Louis Cemetery. He never showed. I think something terrible has happened to him.” Dori stared up at the handsome detective, trying to will him to do what she wanted. Damn, if only she could cast a spell, just a small one.
Don’t do it, her conscience whispered.
Unless it’s a love spell, her bad girl replied. Her clit thumped in response. Her nipples seemed happy with the idea, too, and tightened into little buds.
Aargh!
His scowl deepened. Dori matched him frown for frown, but, damn, it would be so much easier if he was butt-ugly. Even scowling he was beautiful.
His looks were damned distracting. Not to mention damaging to her brand new panties. It had been months since she’d last seen him, and he still affected her like no other man. With his handsome face, sexy drawl, and bad boy attitude, he turned her into nothing more than a pair of boobs and a pussy waiting for the train to pull into port. Or was that ship?
Aargh! Focus, Dori.
“…an’ I understand your concern,” Boudreau was saying. “But with his history, cher, until he has been missin’ for twenty-four hours, there ain’ anythin’ we can do. You sure he’s not gonna just pop up like he usually does? You got a store to run back in Chicago, Dori. Why don’t you go home?”
His mouth said one thing, but the look heating in his eyes suggested he wanted her near.
Ignoring that for the moment, she waved off what she was sure were surface concerns. “I have trustworthy people running the shop. I don’t need to go home.” She put all the pleading she could into her voice, hoping to sway him into action of some kind. Anything was preferable to sitting around and doing nothing. “Please. You have to do something.”
“I can’t do anythin’ for another six hours. However,” he raised his voice when she would have interrupted, “however, I will make some inquiries. Okay?”
Dori ground her teeth. Inquiries. Detective-speak for sitting on my ass.
“Fine,” she gritted. “Fine. But don’t expect me to just laze around my hotel room eating bonbons.”
Boudreau leaned even closer. “You’d better not do much more than that, ma petite,” he said, his words slow and relaxed, his eyes narrowed. “New Orleans is too dangerous for you to be alone at night.”
His lazy drawl made the name of the city sound like “noo awl-ins” and it didn’t fool her for a minute. He’d used that low, easy tone each time she’d come down here searching for her miscreant brother. The slower and lower Jake talked the more it meant his patience had worn thin.
Unsurprisingly, he inevitably talked in a raspy drawl when he was around her. Probably wouldn’t help her case if she told him how sexy she found it.
“As you no doubt saw when you came into town, we’re still cleanin’ up after Katrina, even six years later. It didn’t help when Gustav rolled through the area, either. Some of our…less than upright citizens and the out of town criminal element are takin’ advantage of resources stretched too thin.” He tapped her on the chin. “An’ the cemeteries are dangerous enough in the daytime, let alone at night. You stay away from them, hein?”
This was the second—or was it the third?—time that she and the detective had butted heads over her brother. On her last trip, they’d shared dinner and a sizzling kiss that promised silken sheets against bodies twisting with passion.
Something she hadn’t turned down before.
But when the discussion turned serious…well, it had scared her spitless, and she’d backed away. She’d gone home, pushing her loneliness to the back of her mind with the responsibility of being the sole proprietor of a combination herbal and aromatherapy store.
With Art as a brother a leave of absence wasn’t that unusual, and she knew her three employees would manage the store well in her current absence. As they’d done before.
She looked at Boudreau and tried to remember why it was a bad idea to desire him. Right now, staring into his dark eyes, she desperately wanted to taste him again. She needed to feel his lips against hers like she needed water to drink, air to breathe.
Oy. Get a grip, Dori.
Boudreau cocked an arrogant eyebrow, waiting for a response. Just that fast she wanted to replace the kiss with a swift kick to his backside.
His big hands came out of his pockets to fist on his hips. Another sign his patience was about used up. She took her time giving him her answer, knowing it would aggravate the hell out of him. Knowing it would irritate him even more, she gave him a once over, starting from the top and working her way down.
He was tall, at least half a foot taller than her own five-foot-eight, with dark brown hair that fell over his forehead and grew long over his collar. Gray had started at his temples, either because of the stress of the job or because he was only a few years on the underside of forty. Maybe a bit of both. Eyes the color of dark chocolate framed by long, silky black lashes stared at her with flashes of irritation in their depths.
His bladed nose was mostly straight except for a bump in the middle that suggested at some time it had been broken. Given his vocation and his damned cocky arrogance, that was probable. Lean cheeks with a hint of dimples framed a sexy mouth that drew attention to a strong chin with a delicious cleft. All in all, it was a face that just begged to be kissed.
She’d only ever seen him in suits, and most of the time his tie hung loosely around his neck. His partially unbuttoned shirt revealed a hint of a tanned, muscled chest dusted with dark hair.
A long waist tapered to not-too-slim hips and long legs, down to big feet encased in worn black leather boots. Big feet, big hands. Hmm.
“Dori.” His deep voice was flat, hard. He had finally lost patience with her.
With a raised eyebrow, she looked up from his feet and grinned. Color rode high on his cheekbones. Should she ignore it?
Nope, it was surely just too good to pass up. “Something wrong, Detective?” she asked with studied nonchalance and moved her gaze back to the hardened center of his body.
Boudreau flexed his shoulders as if they felt tight. “Please stay out of trouble.” He sat in the chair behind his desk, apparently deciding to ignore the emotions that flared between them.
Forcing her to make the first move.
She briefly closed her eyes, realizing she was tired. Tired of chasing after Art, tired of always being the responsible one.
Tired of fighting Boudreau, of fighting her emotions.
Fighting the fear. With what Art was trying to do, she might not see tomorrow. Might as well enjoy today.
She’d wanted Jake Boudreau from the minute she’d laid eyes on him. He was a living, breathing advertisement for tall, dark, and handsome, and he was so sexy she could die a happy woman if she could have his cock just once more.
If she were going to die, she’d damned well make sure she was happy.
“Oh, I’ll certainly try.” Dori walked over and plopped down in his lap, enjoying his startled look. “But you know me…”
When she wriggled her bottom against his erection, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what you’re startin’ here, cher,” he rasped, eyes going nearly black with lust. “Don’t be startin’ somethin’ you have no intention of finishin’.”
Like last time hung unspoken between them.
“Who says I don’t intend to finish it?” she whispered, leaning forward and taking a deep breath. Oh, God. Big, hard male and Drakkar Noir. She was in heaven.
Her weight shifted against his penis, and he drew in a sharp breath. With both hands on her hips, he lifted her and stood in one fluid motion. He hauled her out of the squad room and away from the other detectives who had started to watch their interaction with a good amount of interest.
Once he got her to the relative privacy of the bathroom area, he pushed her back against the wall and planted his palms on either side of her face. “You are confusin’ the hell outta me, ma petite,” he growled. “What game are you playin’?”
“It’s not a game,” she murmured, her eyes on his lips. She leaned forward, intent on planting one right on that sexy mouth. She wanted to kiss him, to see if he tasted as good as she remembered. She needed to kiss him again.
He jerked his head back. “Are you sure? It seems to me the last time I had you in my arms, you seared me down to my toes an’ then you ran.” He slid his fingers through her hair and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. His hand lingered as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. “Without even a good-bye.”
He made it sound like she’d hurt him. Her lips tightened at that thought. Feeling the warmth of his fingers against her cheek, she swallowed at his touch even as it gave her hope that he still wanted her. “It wasn’t you, Jake,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “It was me. You…you scared me.”
“I scared you, cher? Or you scared yourself?”
Dori wanted to scream. She needed him to kiss her, and he was talking. What kind of man talked when a woman was practically throwing herself at him?
“Does it matter?” She reached for him again and he straightened. Huffing a sigh, she tried a different tactic. “I’ve missed you.”
“You have, hmm?” As if he needed the physical contact even while he tried to stay out of reach, he cupped her cheek in one broad palm. “Six months and not a phone call or e-mail from you, cher. You wouldn’t just be sayin’ that because you need my help now, would you?”
She saw red. How could he think she’d use feminine wiles on him? That wasn’t her style, and he should know her enough by now to realize that. “Of course not, you buffoon.”
Forget about kissing him, she was back to wanting to give him a boot in the ass. “Never mind,” she muttered and ducked under his arm. If she had to put up with that arrogant mouth, she could do without his cock.
“Not so fast.” He pushed her gently back against the wall. Crowding into her, his mouth covered hers and caught the breathy little moan that escaped.
Jake pushed his groin against Dori’s soft belly, feeling her hands clutch convulsively at his shoulders. He slipped his tongue past her lips. When her tongue tangled with his, he groaned. She shuddered against him, and her hips swayed closer to his.
He slid his mouth to her neck, nibbling and licking her soft skin, feeling her shiver in his arms. “You taste so good,” he growled, his mouth at the crook of her neck. Closing his eyes at her soft moan, he found an erogenous zone with the tip of his tongue.
He moved his mouth back to hers and thrust his tongue inside, hard and fast, in and out, mimicking the act of sex. Almost out of control, he took one of her slim hands in his. Pressing her fingers against his erection, he rocked into her palm. She gasped against his mouth, and his knees buckled when he felt her unzip his pants.
Her warm fingers slid through the opening of his boxers and touched his shaft. He growled and thrust his hips against her, shuttling through the circle of her fingers and gritting his teeth against the building need. Her hand felt so incredible, and when she moved her thumb…Merde!
“Mon Dieu, Boudreau,” a gruff male voice muttered. “Get a room, why doncha?” Another cop stomped past them and into the men’s room.
She gasped and withdrew her hand. He could feel the heat from her blush against his face.
Jake leaned his forehead against hers and sighed, clenching his jaw at the loss of her fingers. “What the hell are you doin’ to me, cher?” he asked, his voice barely above a rasp. He was thirty-seven years old and ready to come in his pants like a randy teenager.
“I want you,” she whispered.
The desire in her voice made his cock jerk. He groaned and pressed against her. “Let me come to you tonight, Dori. I need to be with you. I need…more than this. I want to slide my cock into your cunt so deep you’ll feel empty without me.”
Dori felt her womb clench at the graphic words he muttered against her cheek. She wanted the feel of him against her, she wanted to kiss her way around his body like it was a map to heaven. She felt close to tears at the desperate need for him that pulsed throughout her body.
Was she ready for this? It would be more than sex, she knew. She was already half in love with this man, and if she got another a taste of him, felt him in her body again, it would be all over.
Would he stay once he knew what she was? Could he love a witch?
She wasn’t sure she’d survive it if she fell in love with him and he walked away. But she had to try. She refused to live a life of what ifs. The last six months had been lonely as hell, and she wasn’t going to walk away from him this time without trying.
“I’m staying at the Monteleone,” she said softly, and reached up to place a soft kiss on that sexy mouth while she carefully zipped his pants. “Room thirteen-thirteen.” At his raised eyebrow she grinned. “It’s my favorite number.” Her smile faded as sensual anticipation began to build. “Come around nine.”
Another kiss, and she moved away from him. As she walked away, she was very aware of his dark gaze following her movements.
Jake watched Dori leave the squad room, her shapely jeans-covered ass swaying with each step and kicking his arousal up another notch. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering, and certainly not for the first time, why she blew so hot and cold. Her clear green eyes betrayed her desire every time they were together, but for whatever reason she kept pushing him away.
She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman—spunky, independent, sexy. And irritating as hell. Merde, but she could get under his skin in the blink of an eye. Half the time he didn’t know if he should lock her up or just kiss her until she couldn’t sass him anymore.
Kissing her kept coming up the winner. Although the thought of putting her in his handcuffs and spanking her ass until it was pink was a close second. Either way, sex wouldn’t be far behind. It wasn’t a question of if, it was just a matter of when. If Lady Luck was on his side, when would be tonight.
He had a feeling that, when the two of them did finally get together, it would be magic.
“Damn it, Art, why in the hell were you here?” Dori tripped over a rock and banged her wrist against the corner of a crypt. She cursed under her breath, rubbing the injury against her hip to take the sting out of it. “I mean, I know you were supposed to meet Sabin here, but Jeez Louise! Couldn’t you have said no and arranged another meeting place? Now you’ve got me talking to myself, damn it.”
Dori tiptoed past another crypt and wished, not for the first time, that she could find her brother so she could wring his neck. Of all the places in the world where he had to come up missing, why did it have to be from the oldest cemetery in New Orleans?
She kept up her dialogue with her nonexistent brother. “Why can’t I just cast a spell so I can find you easier? Because of Sabin, of course.” She stopped and turned, gazing into the deep, dark night, listening, sure she had heard something from behind her. When she heard nothing more, she moved on. “Sabin the Wonder Witch,” she muttered, “casting spells so that he can’t be found and, therefore, making sure you can’t be found.”
She stopped again and turned the flashlight to the marker on the nearest crypt. It was old, crumbling, and covered in graffiti, mostly in the form of X marks. Dori flashed the light to the other crypts, then back to this one. It was the only one that had been defaced.
“The Voodoo Queen’s final restin’ place.”
Dori shrieked at the sound of that deep, masculine voice. She whirled to face Boudreau, squealing again when he pulled the flashlight out of her hand.
“Don’t shine that in my face, cher. What’re you doin’ here?”
“Jake?” She blew a breath from between pursed lips and willed her heart to settle back down into her chest from where it had lodged in her throat.
Boudreau’s handsome face looked spooky in the beam of the flashlight. Almost demonic. “Yeah. Answer the question.”
She fought back a shiver at the creepiness of this place. “I thought I might find something that would lead me to Art.”
“Well, at least you’re truthful.” He gave a slight smile, which quickly faded. “I thought I told you to stay away from this place, hein? It’s too dangerous after dark.” He stepped forward, directing the beam of his flashlight downward. He handed her light back to her. With a shake of his head he muttered, “You never listen to me. You shouldn’t have come here alone.”
Even in the near blackness she could read the disapproval in his dark eyes.
“Yes, well, you weren’t doing anything, so…”
“Who says I wasn’t doin’ anythin’?” He propped one fist on his hip and scowled.
She frowned right back at him. “Oh, come on, Detective. As soon as I told you Art was missing, you pretty much just patted me on the head and told me to go home, that he would turn up.”
“You call what we did in the hallway a pat on the head?” His voice was so incredulous she found herself battling back a blush. “Merde. If my captain hadn’t walked by, you would’ve gone down on me, wouldn’t you? Your hot little mouth would’ve been wrapped around my dick, suckin’ me ’til I came in your mouth. Yeah, that sure was some pat on the head, cher.”
“You can be such an ass sometimes, Boudreau,” she gritted. It didn’t help that he was right. She was so desperate for a taste of him it wouldn’t take much for her to get down on her knees and do her best to swallow his cock. Damn, she hated it when he was right.
“But you like my ass, don’t you, cher?” he drawled, amusement creeping into his voice. “Besides,” he went on without giving her a chance to respond, “this ain’t the first time you’ve come down to New Orleans to file a missin’ persons report on your brother, ma petite. This is the third time he’s come down here, gotten involved with an unsavory element and disappeared. Each time he’s popped back up with a grin, with little to no explanation. I still don’t understand why you keep droppin’ everythin’ to come to his rescue.” He ran his hand through his hair, making the silky strands fluff a little before they settled once more against his head. “Just what makes you think this time’s any different?”
He could always make her feel so defensive. She knew he was a good man, under all that Cajun brashness. Right now she didn’t care about whether or not he was good, because he was just plain irritating.
She wished her upbringing hadn’t been so steeped in what a witch could and couldn’t do. Since he was being such a jerk, she dearly wanted to turn him into a toad.
After she kissed him silly, of course. He was, after all, a very sexy jerk. Here we go. Raging libido, in a cemetery. Her timing—and choice of places—could’ve been better.
“He’s my brother, Jake.” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you of all people would understand what that means.”
“Why? ’Cause I come from a big family?”
“Yes.” Dori frowned. “You don’t turn your back on family, especially when they need you.”
He pursed his lips. “All right, I’ll give you that. So, what makes this time different?” he asked again.
“That you wouldn’t understand,” she muttered.
“Try me.”
There was just enough sarcasm in his rich voice to make her mad. Maybe he’d make a sexy toad. Who knew? But, fine. He wanted an explanation? She’d give him one. “Art came to meet a man who could help him…make our father well.”
Okay, so it was a watered down explanation. Since her father was dead, she could truthfully say he wasn’t well. But she couldn’t tell Boudreau that Art had come to meet another witch for the legendary Eye of Bastet, rumored to have the power to revive the dead. He’d never go for that.
“Hmm. Try again, cher.” He studied her. One lean hand reached out and tucked her hair behind her left ear. His hand lingered near her cheek, then dropped back to his side. “What if I told you I know your brother’s here in town to meet a man named Sabin? And that this Sabin is very dangerous? Would you trust me then?”
Dori fought to breathe normally after feeling the touch of his fingers against her face. What was it about this man that drew her so? He was hard but compassionate, strong but gentle, brash and sexy.
Her body began to throb with need. She cleared her throat. “Art is in no danger from Sabin, Detective.”
“Stop calling me that,” he muttered, his deep voice raspy. He stared at her a moment, then asked, “How can you be sure he’s safe from Sabin?”
She stifled a sigh. He was like a terrier after a rat. “Because Sabin and my father were…are friends. Sabin wouldn’t hurt Art.” She looked around at the darkness. The shadows cast by statues and ironwork were gathering, almost like living things reaching out with withered, skeletal fingers.
She sidled a little closer to Boudreau and cursed herself for her love of horror movies. She’d rather not be having thoughts about vampires, ghouls, and zombies right now.
Apparently Boudreau caught her nervous glance, because he stepped forward and took her elbow gently in his strong hand. “This can wait ’til morning, ma petite. Let’s get outta here.”
“No!” She pulled away from him and stumbled against the rough stone of the defaced crypt. With a small cry, she jerked away from the power emanating from within those cold walls.
“That’s it.” Boudreau grabbed her arm less gently this time. “We’re leavin’, cher. We can come back in the mornin’. No argument, or I swear to God I will handcuff and carry you out of here.”
“Wait.” She resisted his tug on her arm, ignoring the flash of heat at the thought of being handcuffed by him. “Whose…whose crypt did you say this was?”
“Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. She was the most powerful of all the voudouiennes. Legend has it that if you knock three times on her crypt, or make three Xs, she’ll grant your wish.”
“Then Emile Bernier’s crypt should be near.” She couldn’t leave now. That was where Art was supposed to meet Sabin. There might be a clue to his disappearance in that crypt. “Please, Jake, just a few more minutes. Help me find Bernier’s crypt. Please,” she pleaded again when he hesitated.
“Oh, very well. Just a few more minutes, though. Then we leave it ’til mornin’, oui?” He waited for her nod then preceded her to the next row of above ground resting sites.
City of the Dead. Dori shivered. That’s what most cemeteries in New Orleans were called, because many of the family crypts looked like miniature houses, complete with iron fences. She wasn’t sure why she was so frightened. It wasn’t as if she had no defense. Her amulet and the protection spell Aunt Clara had said over her should shield her from most evil. But there was something out there…something she couldn’t define, but it was heavy and dark, like an oily cloak of malice.
“Here it is.”
She jumped at the sound of Boudreau’s richly accented words. Jeez, she had to stop watching so many horror movies. With her amulet, blessed with a protection spell, there was nothing there that could harm her.
Maybe if she said it enough, like a mantra, she’d begin to really believe it.
She turned her flashlight to join the light from Boudreau’s, and read the inscription. “Emile Bernier, 1797 to 1852. Dead to life, but alive to eternity.”
Dori probed around the door with her fingers.
“What are you doin’, ma petite? We shouldn’t enter a crypt that isn’t family.” Boudreau grabbed her hand just as her fingers encountered a small latch at the inside molding of the door.
She heard his low exclamation and realized he was standing just behind her. His warm breath tickled her ear and his spicy cologne teased her nose. She wanted to do nothing more than turn around in his arms and give in to her desire to kiss him.
But not here, not now. She had to find Art.
“What now?” he asked.
“Now we go in.”
To her surprise, he didn’t argue, merely squeezed her hand and then let it go. He drew his gun out of its holster and thumbed off the safety. “You stay behind me.”
Flashlight in one hand, gun hand balanced on his outstretched wrist, Boudreau walked slowly into the crypt. A cement stand that was thigh high was central to the small room, with its ornate coffin resting on top. Dori stayed away from the casket and kept behind him, flashing her own light around to look into the corners of the crypt.
After looking for a couple of minutes, she let out a sigh. “Nothing,” she whispered. “There’s nothing here.”
“I don’t know what you expected to find, ma petite. It’s only an old grave.” He holstered his gun and stepped up to her. Sliding the flashlight under his arm, he cradled her face in his hands. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. Her flashlight, still tilted upward, showed his face, so near to hers, covered with concern. “It’s late, an’ we’re both tired. If you want, we’ll come back again tomorrow an’ look things over when we can see better. Okay?”
She nodded. Looking up into his shadowed face, she gave in to her longing and drew his face down to hers. His face was rough and scratchy under her palms. The touch of his mouth against her lips was all she remembered and more, and not nearly enough.
“Mon Dieu,” he breathed when their lips parted. “You mus’ be tired, to kiss me like that.”
She rubbed her forehead against his shoulder. Resting her cheek against the warmth of his chest, she closed her eyes. “What has me so tired is fighting what I feel for you.”
His chest rose against her and held for a moment, and then released. His breath puffed against the top of her head. “One thin’ I will say for you, mon amie, is that you tell the truth.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Mais oui, you tell the truth.”
She bit her lip at his words. She hadn’t outright lied to him. She hadn’t. But with his strict code of honor, he might not see the difference between not volunteering the truth and telling a lie. She hoped he would.
Dori sighed against his chest. There were so many things between them, so many differences. Were they destined to be driven apart before they were ever together?
He turned her in to the cradle of his arm and urged her toward the open door of the crypt. “So, we agree to stop fightin’ this attraction, yes? And we’ll go get some sleep—maybe—and come back tomorrow.” He tightened his arm around her briefly. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued with the hidden latch on this door. I’d like to get a better look at it in daylight.”
Dori started to agree just as the door slammed shut. She screamed and grabbed Boudreau.
He clamped one hand over his ear. “Merde, cher. You got a scream that’ll wake the dead.”
“Don’t say that!” She smacked him on the arm and kept her flashlight focused on the door. “Well?” she asked as his lean fingers scrambled to find a handle or knob of some sort.
“Damn! There’s nothin’ here on this side.” He glanced back at her, his face angles and planes in the light and shadows created by the flashlight.
“Most of the time those on the inside have no desire to leave.”
Dori whirled toward the new voice and backed up against Boudreau, aware he’d once again drawn his gun. Into the light stepped a tall man, powerfully built, dressed in black turtleneck and slacks.
Sabin.
“It’s okay, Jake,” Dori whispered in relief. “It’s Sabin.”
Boudreau stopped her when she would have moved away from him. “Stay put, ma petite.”
“I told you, it’s all right.”
“Non. What is your business here tonight, Sabin?”
The other man shrugged and leaned one shoulder against the rough wall of the crypt. “The same as you, I imagine. I’m trying to find Arthur.”
“B…but he was supposed to meet you here, two nights ago.” Dori gripped her fingers together against the growing fear. Her instincts had been right—Art was in terrible trouble.
“As I’ve told you, he never showed. I’ve come back the last two nights, thinking that perhaps he was merely delayed.” He frowned and waved a hand toward Boudreau, still holding the pistol pointed at him with a steady hand. “That will not protect you against me, mon ami. I am immune to your bullets.”
Boudreau snorted. “You tellin’ me you’re some sort of Superman, homme?”
Sabin smiled, teeth glinting in the dim light of the wavering flashlights. “No.”
Getting her first clear glimpse of the other witch, Dori felt cold, then hot. She stumbled back even as Sabin moved more fully into the beam of their combined flashlights. His canine teeth were long and pointed; his eyes glittered with a silver hue.
“I’m telling you that I am a vampire. The undead in this City of the Dead.”
Boudreau offered a pithy but quite heartfelt response.
Jake sat in the backseat of Sabin’s Mercedes and closely watched the route the vampire took to his house. If things turned bad, he wanted to make sure he could get Dori out. Glancing at the front seat, where she sat talking quietly with Sabin, he grimaced. If she wanted to leave.
He hadn’t wanted her to go with Sabin. She’d been resolute. He’d stubbornly insisted that if she was going, he was going. And so here he sat in the backseat of a car being driven by a vampire.
Merde.
Jake’s main talent seemed to be getting in to more trouble than he could easily get out of. From the moment he’d seen Sabin’s glowing eyes and sharp teeth, he’d known he’d done it again. Acted the Laurel to his own Hardy. It’s a fine mess you’ve gotten me in to this time.
He would have preferred that Dori sit in the back with him, but she’d said she had things to talk over with Sabin. So he sat in the back with his hand under his jacket, on his gun, ready to pull it from the holster if he needed to.
This was his first time meeting a vampire, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. All things considered, he thought he was handling himself rather well. The fact that Dori seemed so at ease with the creature…well, that was something he and Dori would have a little chat about.
The powerful car turned onto a narrow roadway that wound through large oak trees with ghostly shrouds of Spanish moss hanging from their branches. The sprawling main house came in view, and his eyebrows rose. The large structure looked to be at least ten thousand square feet, brick and glass with a three car garage on the east side.
Being a vampire obviously had some perks.
“Did you have hurricane damage?” he asked, his curiosity roused by the pristine condition of the grounds and the main structure. Of course, with the house and car he assumed Sabin had money to burn and could have had any damage repaired early on.
“I have wards around the grounds to protect the house from harm. They keep unwelcome intruders out and protect against nature’s fury as well.” Sabin pushed a button above the rearview mirror and one of the garage doors slid open. He pulled the car neatly into the garage and parked next to a metallic black Porsche Boxster convertible.
“What the hell are wards?” Jake climbed out of the Mercedes and tried to keep from drooling over the sports car. Next to the Porsche sat a black on chrome Harley Fat Boy. Seduced by the big boy toys, he took his hand off his gun and ran it up and over the fender of the Boxster. A snort of laughter from Sabin drew his attention.
The vampire stared at him with amused speculation in his now normal-looking deep blue eyes. “Do you have adult-onset ADD, Detective?” he asked, very clearly poking fun at Jake’s sudden lack of interest in finding out about wards in light of the expensive machinery sitting all around him. “Want to try her out?” Sabin added, nodding toward the Harley.
“You serious?” Jake walked over to the motorcycle and ran his hand over the leather seat. “She’s a real beaut.”
He heard Dori huff.
“What is it about men,” she asked, her voice tart but still sensuous enough to tug at his loins, “that makes them lose focus whenever they see a motorcycle?”
“Testosterone,” both men responded together. Jake saw Sabin’s lips quirk and figured that was about as close to a smile as the vampire ever got. The surrealism of talking about motorcycles with a vampire wasn’t lost on him.
“Well, we don’t have time for you to try her out.” Dori opened the door to the main house. “We have work to do.” She paused, looking at Sabin. “Well? It’s your house.”
Sabin shrugged. “She’s right, mon ami. Perhaps another time.” He motioned toward the door and waited for Jake to precede him through the opening.
“I may hold you to it,” Jake murmured.
“Any time. Just through there.” Sabin pointed toward a large, elegant room. Dori walked in first and went directly to the tall window to the left, fingering the brocade curtain, staring out into the night.
At a glance, Jake took in his surroundings. The opulent room was dominated by leather and dark wood furniture. Scatterings of rich plum and gold velvet accented the more somber colors. It appeared as if the doorway through which he’d just come was the only entrance to—or exit from—the room.
He went over to Dori and put his arm around her. “Come on, cher, sit down. You’re gonna worry a hole in that thing.” He guided her to the sofa and sat beside her, studying her pale face. She’d never been this upset over Art’s disappearing acts before. Something was very wrong this time.
Well, something was very wrong besides the fact that a vampire was somehow involved.
“I’ll be right back,” Sabin said. “I’ll have Grady prepare something light for an evening snack.” He looked at Jake. “Unless, of course, you need something more filling?”
Jake narrowed his eyes at the other man’s tone. There seemed to be an underlying cynicism. Maybe the vampire just didn’t like cops. But his stomach was empty; he wasn’t going to turn down the offer of food. “Somethin’ light is fine.”
Sabin gave a slight nod and left the room. Jake waited until the vampire’s footsteps faded, then he looked at Dori. It was time he got some answers. Starting with how she came to be linked to Sabin.
Dori glanced at him and then at the large set of windows that overlooked the front yard. She shrugged and offered, “Don’t look at me. I have no idea who Grady is.”
“That wasn’t what I was gonna ask.” Jake shifted his weight and faced her more fully. “How is it you know Sabin?”
She twined a strand of hair around her finger. “I told you. He and Art are friends.” She looked down at her other hand, plucking at a small tear in her jeans.
He tilted his head. She wouldn’t look at him, which was interesting. It told him one of two things: either she was lying, or she wasn’t giving him the entire story. It didn’t matter either way. He’d learn the truth.
“I think there’s more to it than that, cher.” Jake used his best cop face, staring her down.
She looked unimpressed. Raising one eyebrow, she crossed her arms. Her earlier nervousness seemed gone. But he noticed that her foot started swinging. She wasn’t as calm as she wanted him to think she was.
What was she trying to hide?
He leaned forward and cupped her cheek in his palm, turning her face toward him. “Talk to me, Dori. Tell me what’s really goin’ on.”
Just then Sabin came back into the room, an elderly man bearing a silver-covered tray behind him. The vampire stopped just inside the room while Jake lingered over Dori. It might be juvenile, but he wanted Sabin to see that Dori belonged with him. Sabin looked at him with a raised brow, telling him he’d got the message.
Jake gave him a slow smile and sat back, keeping his arm along the back of the couch behind Dori.
The gray-haired man placed the tray on the glass coffee table in front of Jake and Dori.
“Thank you, Grady,” Sabin murmured. The older man inclined his head and left the room with a sedate, steady pace.
Jake leaned forward and removed the cover of the tray. There was a selection of sandwiches and some vegetables. He bypassed the celery and carrots and picked up half a sandwich. Ignoring the amused look the vampire shot his way, Jake lifted the upper slice of bread and checked out the ingredients.
Brown mustard, tomatoes, lettuce and thinly sliced roast beef. Taking a big bite, he settled back onto the sofa and watched Sabin pace in front of a fireplace that was tall enough for an adult to stand in.
Yep, definite perks to being a vampire. Had a lot of time to accumulate wealth, for one thing. He’d never been in a house before that had a fireplace that was over six feet tall and nearly as wide.
Dori picked up a few stalks of celery and crunched off a piece of one. Jake’s lips quirked. Her munching was timed to Sabin’s pacing, though he doubted she was aware of it. He took another bite of his sandwich, enjoying the way the flavor of the beef was brought out by the spicy brown mustard and sweet tomatoes.
The vampire’s long strides took him to the window, where he paused for a moment and stared into the inky night. He turned and paced back toward the fireplace, and Jake saw that Sabin’s teeth had lengthened again, protruding over his lower lip. That feeling of surrealism came over Jake again, wrapping around him like a thick woolen blanket, muffling his senses.
“If you’re right and others think that Arthur has the Eye, then I fear that Ra’Ziel reached your brother before he could meet with me, Endora. If that is so, then there is only one reason.” Sabin stopped and looked at Dori, his face strained, his dark blue eyes sparking with anger and distress.
“Endora?” Jake latched on to the one thing his poor brain had the power to interpret. “Your name’s Endora?” He took another big bite of the sandwich.
“Nobody calls me that.” She shot a hard look at Sabin. “My mother had a funky sense of humor.” When Jake continued to stare at her, she fidgeted on the sofa and then shrugged. “What can I tell you? She liked Bewitched.”
Jake bit his inner lip against a grin. “So why didn’t she name you Samantha? Or Tabitha? Or even Serena?”
The muscles in her jaw twitched. “Because I’m the youngest of four girls.”
Meaning, he guessed, that her older sisters were Samantha, Tabitha, and Serena. “Well, at least she didn’t name you Clara.” He put his arm around her shoulder and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. He popped the last of the sandwich into his mouth, appreciating that final burst of hot mustard on his tongue.
Sabin let out a laugh. “That’s because there’s already a Clara in the family. Endor…Dori’s mother’s sister.”
Jake swallowed, hard. “So you have an Aunt Clara, too?” Wonder if the family doctor is named Bombay. He bit the inside of his mouth to fight a face-splitting grin. He had the distinct feeling that if he laughed, Dori would smash his face with the fists she had clenched in her lap. “Is your dad’s name Darren?”
“No, his name was Edward. And before you ask, my mother didn’t have a very exotic name, either. Her name was Mary. Which may explain why we got stuck with the names we did.” She gave him a look that suggested he move off this very touchy subject.
Sabin must have had the same thought, for he said, “We digress. We must find Ra’Ziel and save Arthur.”
Jake clamped down on the urge to offer a comment about her brother being named after yet another character on the witchy TV show, but managed to restrain himself. He knew Dori wouldn’t appreciate it, and they had more important matters to deal with.
Jake felt out of his league, but he wasn’t going to bail now. He’d known from the start that Dori was different from the other women he’d been with. Something they needed to talk about, for sure. How different he probably wasn’t prepared for, but he had a feeling she was worth it…
If they survived the night. He still wasn’t so sure about Sabin, the vampire. Dori and Art might be safe from him, but was this Cajun cop?
Later, at some point, he’d have to make sure she understood they wouldn’t be naming any of their babies after characters on the damned television.
He stilled. Where the hell had that thought come from? He and Dori hadn’t even made love yet this time around—and he had no assurances that they would, though she seemed willing—and he was thinking about babies?
God help him. He was in so much trouble.
He focused his attention on the current discussion. Dealing with bad guys was something he could handle. “And Ra’Ziel is…?”
“Ra’Ziel is a half-breed demon who seeks to annihilate all witches. The Eye of Bastet that Art seeks in order to revive his father can also be used to destroy any who practice the Arts. So, it is not just Arthur and Dori in danger here, it is all witch folk.”
A demon. The bad guy was a demon? Jake shook his head. Forget about being able to handle this. But…he frowned. What was that other part?
Dori was a witch, and her father was dead.
“Whoa, wait a minute there, homme. Revive his father?” He looked at Dori, suspicious when she ducked her head. This was what she’d been hiding. “Ma petite? I thought you said he wanted to heal your father. There’s a big difference there, I think, hmm?” The little fact that she was a witch would be discussed later, for sure.
She looked at him with apology reflected in her green eyes. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t believe me if I’d told you, at the time, that Art wants to bring our father back to life.” She looked at Sabin. “I told him this was a bad idea. But time was running out. If he’s going to do this, it has to happen tomorrow night.”
“The witch must be revived within seven nights of his parting, or his death remains,” Sabin explained to Jake. The vampire looked back at Dori. “From what I understood, I thought you and Arthur were in agreement.”
She shook her head. “Death is part of life, Sabin.” She frowned. “Well, for some people it is,” she said with a pointed glance at the vampire. “I tried and tried to talk him out of it.”
“Wait a minute.” Jake did his best to understand. “Wouldn’t her father be a warlock, since he’s male?”
“You’ve watched too many television programs, Detective.” Sabin heaved a sigh. “Warlock is a term for anyone who practices the dark magick.”
He didn’t tack on the word imbecile at the end of the sentence, but Jake saw the look in his eyes.
“Witches practice light magick,” the vampire went on. “The seventh night is tomorrow night, which means that is the time Ra’Ziel will make his move to use Art to bargain for the Eye. We have only tomorrow to make our plans.”
“But you jus’ said they’ll all die if Ra’Ziel gets his hands on the Eye.” Jake stood. “No way can we let him have it.”
“But Art!” Dori wiped at tears and shot a pleading look to both men. “We can’t just let him have Art.”
“There may be a way, little one.” Sabin knelt in front of her and took her hands.
Jake stood back, clenching his hands at the familiarity with which the vampire touched her, the two dark heads—one a rich auburn, the other inky black—so close together. He’d never thought of himself as the jealous type, but just seeing the other man touching her had his blood boiling.
Didn’t matter that the guy was one of the undead. Jake had a fleeting thought wondering whether that meant he was undead all over. He certainly hoped so, seeing how he was holding Dori’s hands so tenderly.
Civility slipped from Jake like water sliding down a rock, and he fought the urge to slam his fist into Sabin’s face.
“We must make the trade in the cemetery at midnight on All Hallow’s Eve when the barriers between our world and the spirit world is at its weakest, thus allowing us to tap into the supernatural realm.” Sabin gave a nod, his expression savagely satisfied.
In spite of his jealousy, Jake was glad they were on the same side.
Sabin tightened his grip on Dori’s hands briefly and then released them. “We will make the exchange by Madame Laveau’s crypt. Her magick was the most powerful this city has ever seen. We can tap into that and also use the power of the Between—the time between night and morning. Combine all of that with your power and mine, I’m confident we can defeat the demon.” He twisted to look at Jake. “You must stay here, mon ami. We cannot save Arthur and worry about protecting you as well.”
“I can protect myself, merci beaucoup.” Jake scowled. He’d joined the Academy after eight years as an MP in the Marines. He’d never really been a believer in the supernatural, but he hadn’t disbelieved, either. But demon or no, if he could see it, touch it, he could fight it. “You don’t have to worry none ’bout me, homme.”
“No?”
One moment Sabin was crouched at Dori’s feet, the next he had Jake by the throat, holding him off the floor. “I am something of a paradox, Detective. A vampire who is also a witch—something most witches will tell you cannot exist. Power cancels power, or some such nonsense. But I do exist, with all my powers very much intact. Do you doubt, even for an instant, that I could end your existence right now?”
“Sabin, stop it!”
Jake heard Dori pleading with Sabin, but he could do nothing more than dangle from the vampire’s fingers. He felt his eyes bulging and had the quizzical thought that he must look like something from a cartoon, with eyes ready to pop out of his head.
He felt a rushing wind blow past him just before he was flung to the floor. He lifted his head to see Sabin picking himself up from across the room.
Dori knelt beside Jake and caressed his bruised throat. “Are you all right?” Even under the circumstances, her soft hand against his skin had his randy cock lengthening in his pants.
“You should be more worried about yourself, Endora.” Sabin stopped a few feet away. His eyes blazed with silver fury, his hands curled into big fists at his side. “You have so little concern for your own safety that you would dare attack me with your power?”
She stood and faced the vampire with more courage than Jake had at the moment. He was too busy trying to get air without coughing.
“You leave him alone, Sabin. We need each other, you and I, to defeat Ra’Ziel. But believe this. I. Need. Jake.”
“If he comes along and is injured, or worse, how will you feel then?” The vampire crossed his arms and relaxed. The silver slowly bled from his eyes until they were once more a deep, dark blue.
She swallowed. “Then I’ll deal with it. But somehow I feel he’s supposed to be there. I can’t explain it, Sabin, but Jake is key. We need him.”
Jake climbed to his feet. Merde! That creature had a grip of iron. He rubbed his throat and tried to unobtrusively adjust his erection to a more comfortable position.
Sabin heaved a sigh. “Very well. Bring your policeman lover along.” The vampire looked at Jake, his sharp gaze flicking to the bulge between his thighs. “Do not distract us, mortal, or you will wish Ra’Ziel had killed you.”
“You—” Jake stopped on a cough then swallowed, trying to work the soreness out of his throat. “You don’t worry ’bout me none, homme. You make sure Dori is safe or you’ll wish Ra’Ziel had killed you.”
The other man stilled, and for a moment Jake was sure he had gone too far. But Sabin gave a bark of laughter and clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder.
It nearly knocked him off his feet again.
“I think I like you, Detective,” Sabin said. “You have brass.” He chuckled again. “You two may stay the night here. I have plenty of guest rooms. Dori, why don’t you take Boudreau to the Blue Room—top of the stairs to the left—and get some sleep. Or,” he paused, his gaze skating over the two of them, “not. We won’t need to leave until early evening, so long as we reach the cemetery before dusk. You have plenty of time to fuck each other senseless and get some of this sexual tension released.”
Jake raised his eyebrow at the other man’s frank speech and glanced at Dori. She was such a frank little thing herself, he was surprised to see her cheeks redden with a blush.
Sabin had an excellent idea. Jake’s enthusiastic cock certainly thought so, anyway. “Yeah, let’s go to the bedroom, cher,” he drawled, taking Dori’s slender hand in his. They needed to talk, for sure, but later. Right now, he had to get her naked. “We need to finish what we started at the station.”
Barely giving her a chance to say good night, he hustled her out of the room.
Dori felt her cheeks flare hotter at the look Boudreau shot her. His lust was almost palpable, his eyes were dark with passion, his face tight. Her body softened and moistened in response.
They started up the stairs. Halfway up he got tired of the easy pace, picked her up, threw her over one shoulder, and then loped up the stairs two at a time. He pushed open the door of their room. “Get the light,” he muttered and kicked the door shut behind him. She fumbled along the wall and found the switch, flipping it on.
Boudreau dropped her on the bed and stood there, looking at her, his eyes heavy lidded as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and laid it on a chair next to the bed. His chest rose and fell with his labored breathing. Long fingers unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled the tails from his pants. His shirt, too, went over the back of the chair.
“You still got your clothes on, bébé,” he said, his eyes glittering. He unbuckled his belt and slid down the zipper on his trousers. She was mesmerized at the sight of those long, tanned fingers easing the metal over his obvious erection.
His voice rasped over her eardrums and sent a shiver through her. “If you want those clothes to stay in one piece, you’d better get ’em off.”
Dori felt her clit swell with need, flooding her pussy with cream. She’d never been so turned on so fast by any man in her life. She scrambled off the bed and took off her clothes with abandon.
With her fingers hooked around the elastic of her skimpy red panties, she looked at him standing there naked, his hands on his hips. Dark hair swirled over his chest and down the hard contours of his abdomen to end in a thick nest surrounding his genitals. His cock was huge, smooth except for the bulging veins that ran its length. The head was darker than the rest, and pointing straight at her. As she stared, his cock twitched and lurched upward, the throbbing head straining toward his navel.
“God, your breasts are pretty.” Boudreau stalked forward, a lean, loose-hipped stride that nearly made her go cross-eyed with need. “You’d better hurry, cher, if you wanna wear those little panties again,” he drawled. A foil packet was gripped between the fingers of one big hand.
She was entranced by his male beauty, his muscles rolling and bunching beneath hair-roughened, tanned skin. His handsome face wore a days’ worth of stubble, making him look a little dangerous, and a whole lot sexy. She remained still, her fingers hooked at the top of her underwear.
His eyes narrowed.
Before he could say anything more, she did what she’d wanted to do for a very long time. She dropped to her knees and closed her lips over the engorged head of his cock. His low groan encouraged her to flick her tongue around and over, tasting his salty essence as a drop of pre-cum seeped from the tip.
“Oh, God, cher.” His hands came up to clasp her head. “Yeah, suck it, just like that.”
She gripped his shaft with one hand and stroked it as she took as much of him as she could into her mouth. With her other hand she took his heavy sac in her fingers and massaged the twin globes within.
His breathing turned harsh and loud, gasping with pleasure. “Yeah. Take it. More. Take all of it.”
She flushed with heated arousal, her pussy swelling and pulsing with need. He didn’t hold back, telling her how it felt, what she was doing to him. It increased her own arousal. She wanted him inside her, but she wanted to give him this pleasure, too. She loved the feel of him, so smooth, so strong. Life pulsing under her tongue.
She moved her mouth and licked her way around the head to the sensitive underside. She nibbled gently along the heavy shaft until she reached the base, where she promptly drew one of his tight balls into the warmth of her mouth.
He shouted and arched against her, nearly throwing her back onto her butt. She wrapped her hands around his thighs and held on, swirling her tongue around the hair-roughened skin while she gently suckled.
Dori moved to the other testicle and gave it the same tender treatment, moaning around him as his hips pumped against her mouth. His skin tasted of salt and vinegar, and she whimpered with her own skyrocketing need.
“God. Take it in your mouth again, bébé. Suck my cock. Please.” He groaned again, muttering her name. She could feel the muscles in his abdomen and thighs trembling. It gave her an incredible rush that she could bring this strong man to the brink of sexual insanity. She took his cock in her mouth again, opening as wide as she could.
His hands tightened in her hair, and he began shuttling in and out of her mouth, his buttocks clenching and releasing. She looked up at him through her lashes, exulted at seeing his face tighten with the extreme pleasure she gave him. Tentatively she swallowed, tightening her throat around his cock head.
Jake felt his gut turn over at the sight of his cock thrusting into her mouth. Her green eyes were half closed and dark with passion. The thick stalk of his sex spread her lips wide, stretching them, reddening them with the pressure.
And the feel of it…God, he thought his head would explode.
Both of them.
“Dori, you…ah,” he groaned, pumping into her mouth with steady strokes, his breathing harsh and labored, his fingers tightening in her hair.
Her mouth was wet and hot, her lips so tight around his shaft he knew he wouldn’t last long. She scraped her nails lightly across his balls. He growled and plunged faster, still coherent enough to not force too much of his length into her mouth.
She moaned and swallowed, and Jake surged against her helplessly. She gagged.
He pulled away, instantly contrite. “Merde. Honey, I’m sorry.” He started to bend over but she waved him off and went after his cock again. She rubbed the tip of her tongue against the slit at the tip. She licked a pearly drop of pre-cum onto her tongue, and his eye narrowed at the sight.
She was so sexy she was about to kill him.
Her tongue lapped around the crown, then tapped on the sensitive underside. She pulled the head back into the heat of her mouth and trapped it there, sucking lightly. Little by little she pulled more of his hard flesh between her lips.
She peeked up at him through her lashes again and went down on him in earnest. He watched as long as he could, loving the way her breasts jiggled with her movements. Her nipples were hard, the tips a deep red, surrounded by pretty pink areolas.
When she scraped her nails lightly across his balls again, he closed his eyes. His head fell back. He pumped into her mouth, hands gripping her head. She swallowed again. He groaned as her throat tightened around the head of his cock. “God, bébé, swallow it,” he growled when she repeated the motion. “Yeah, swallow my cock.”
He fucked her mouth harder, leaving her lips feeling tight, but Dori loved the feeling, loved that she could bring him such pleasure. She loved watching the lust that darkened his face every time her throat caressed the head of his cock.
His hips bucked against her, pushing his hard flesh as deep as it would go. She felt his balls tighten, drawing up against the base of his shaft.
He tried to pull away from her. “I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice a deep rasp, his eyes black with lust.
She sucked harder and faster, moaning with her own arousal as he helplessly thrust into her mouth. Slipping one hand under the lace of her panties, she gathered some of her own cream on her fingers. She brought her fingers back to his body, slipping them from the soft skin behind his balls to the puckered rim of his anus.
“Dori…” he panted, eyes closing as she teased the skin between his cock and anus. “I’m gonna come. God, take it, cher. Take my cum.”
She cupped her other hand around his balls and tugged. Hot, liquid bursts of semen accompanied his shout of release. The sweet and sour taste of his cum hit the back of her tongue. His cock stroked over it, sliding through the viscous liquid.
He pumped his hips against her a few more times, thick, hard pulses of cum spurting down her throat while she continued to lave him with her tongue.
Finally, his hips stilled and he pulled his semi-hard shaft out of her mouth with a sigh. “You’ve about killed me,” he muttered, reaching down and drawing her to her feet. “Let’s see if I can return the favor.”
Sweeping her up in his arms, he took two steps and dumped her on the bed, laughing when she let out a small squeak. He quickly followed and, wasting no time, swept her panties off. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, he put that sexy mouth of his to work.
Dori closed her eyes against the sensations building in her body. His hair-stubbled cheeks and chin rubbed against the bare flesh of her pussy, stinging her, adding to her building arousal. He was relentless, sucking on her clit, sweeping his tongue down her slit, seemingly desperate for her to find her own release. Heat flowed through her sex with each fiery caress.
He lightly tongued his way through her silky folds until he could suck her clit back into his mouth. He suckled it strongly, moaning against her flesh as she couldn’t restrain the helpless movement of her hips.
She needed a deeper connection, she needed to be filled.
As if he could sense her thoughts, he thrust his tongue into her passage, and she cried out. Her hands came to grasp his head, fingers threading through the thick strands. Boudreau pumped his tongue in and out of her cunt, flicking the hard tip against the sensitive walls.
Her orgasm crashed through her. She screamed and bucked against him. Her hands fell away and gripped the bedcover and her entire body tightened as if drawn by a wire. Even as she came down from the high, she realized Boudreau continued to lick through her folds.
“You taste so goddamned good.” He swiped from her snug opening up to her clit, then back down again. “Like honey. And cinnamon.” He groaned. “And woman.”
He slid a long, thick finger inside her. She gasped and clamped down around it. He pumped it gently and added a second finger.
Just as the unbearable tension was about to crest, he drew away from her, gentling her with soft kisses against her inner thighs. “Not yet, bébé,” he whispered, his breath hot against her swollen labia. “When you come again, I want your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock.”
Rearing back, he grabbed the condom packet from where he’d thrown it on the bed when he’d tossed her down. Ripping open the packet, he quickly rolled the condom over his cock, once again thick and hard.
He positioned the tip at the entrance to her body, slowly forcing his way past the swollen, clenching, slippery muscles of her cunt. “You make me feel like a teenager, cher. Mon Dieu!” he gasped as he worked his cock in an inch or so. “You are so goddamned tight an’ wet.”
He pulled away and thrust in again, one long, slow glide until his cock slid in to the hilt and his balls slapped against her rear. He slid his cock out until only the tip remained in her pussy. He moved one hand to her clit and gripped it lightly between thumb and forefinger, pulling on it, twisting it. He slammed his shaft back into her and they both moaned at the sensation.
He started rubbing her clit in hard little circles, first slowly, then faster. His cock pistoned in and out of her channel, stretching her, filling her. She felt the first ripples of her climax and fought it.
“Come with me, Dori,” he muttered, his teeth clenched. “Don’t fight it. I wanna feel your cunt squeezin’ my dick.”
His darkly whispered words sent her over the edge. With a heavy groan, he followed her, his cock jerking inside her as he found his own release.
He moved her legs gently down to the bed. He disposed of the condom in a bedside trash can and collapsed beside her, his arm a heavy weight across her stomach before he gathered her in his arms. “Mon Dieu, petite.” He sighed, moving his head to her breast and resting it there. Pressing a kiss to her nipple, he murmured, “I knew it would be magic.”
They rested in each other’s arms for long moments. Then Boudreau stirred against her, propping up on one elbow, his chin resting on his fist. Dark eyes searched hers. “Now, cher, about this whole witch business…”
Dori chewed on her lower lip. When he reached out and rubbed his thumb over her lip, freeing it from the punishment of her teeth, her breath hitched. “I just wasn’t sure you’d believe me.” She pulled her lip between her teeth again, then added softly, brokenly, “Or accept me.”
He brought his left hand up and combed his fingers through her hair, then cupped the back of her head. “I grew up on the bayou, Dori. I’ve seen a lot of things that are strange and wonderful.” Leaning down, he kissed her, lips moving over hers gently. “My Mamau dabbled a bit here and there. It’s no big deal.” He pulled back and gave her a stern look. “That’s not to say I’m happy you didn’t trust me.”
“It’s just…” She sighed and sifted her fingers through his chest hair. Keeping her eyes focused on her hand, she said, “I haven’t had the best track record, Jake. Other men haven’t been as…understanding as you.”
His big hand came under her chin and tilted her head. “Look at me.” When she stubbornly refused, he gently shook her chin. “Dori, look at me.”
When she raised her gaze to his, she felt tears well at the look of tenderness in his eyes. “I understand about lovin’ people who want to change you. I do.” He kissed her, a light meeting of lips, a deeper meeting of souls. “But I love you for who you are, cher. For what you are. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He swiped at two fat tears that rolled down her cheeks. “That doesn’t mean that you get to keep lyin’ to me.”
“I never—”
“Withholdin’ the truth is the same as lyin’.” He pressed her back onto the bed and loomed over her. “Promise me, Dori. I can’t help you, can’t protect you, if I don’t know the full truth. No more secrets.”
She cupped his face in her hands, breath catching as he pressed kisses into both of her palms. “I promise, Jake. No more secrets.”
With that vow, she knew she had to tell him one last thing. “I love you, too.”
Jake came awake slowly and savored the feel of warm, womanly curves pressed against him. Dori lay on her side, her shapely buttocks snuggled against his groin, her head resting on his right arm. Early morning sun painted light and shadow across her soft skin and highlighted the fire in her hair.
Easing carefully away from her, he got off the bed and padded into the adjoining bathroom to take care of his full bladder. After washing his hands, he splashed water on his face and scrubbed his teeth. On his way back to rejoin Dori, he stopped to grab another condom from his pants’ pocket.
As the mattress dipped beneath his weight she murmured in her sleep. He lifted the sheet up and off and moved his eyes down the slender line of her back and legs.
He stared at her, amazed—not for the first time—at what the sight of her did to him. Her slender beauty drew him, gave him a nonstop hard-on and had his emotions closer to the surface than they’d been in years. He’d taken her several times since that first wild coupling, and still his cock thickened and lengthened at the sight of her.
If he had a hundred years, he’d never get enough of her.
Her heart-shaped ass drew his gaze…and his hands. He rubbed his palms over her silken buttocks and smiled when she made a faint sound. He hadn’t really wanted this now, this emotional entanglement with another person. But, here he was.
Entangled. Ensnared. Entranced.
Bewitched.
He smoothed his hands over her ass cheeks again, finally grasping them to pull them apart. Leaning forward, he licked a path to the soft folds of her cunt.
“Jake?” Her voice was raspy with sleep as she wriggled against his face.
He let her turn onto her back. “I didn’t spend enough time down here earlier, cher,” he murmured against her slit. He groaned as her pussy juices hit his tongue. “You taste…spicy an’ sweet, just the way I like it.”
Grabbing his pillow, he folded it in half. Lifting her hips, he placed the pillow under her buttocks so she was at a more accessible level. He pushed her legs apart and moved his tongue across the lips of her smooth pussy, delving between them to swipe over the swollen petals of her flesh with the flat of his tongue.
He pushed his tongue inside her, moving just the pointed tip around her opening. He felt her legs tremble, and he smiled against her, loving the feel of her rising passion. Moving his head slightly, he drew her clit into his mouth and suckled hungrily.
Her cries sounded in his ears, echoed in his burgeoning shaft. He was so hot, so ready to fuck. He wanted to slam his cock into her hard and deep, to take her with all the brutal lust inside him so that she’d feel empty without him there to fill her, so that she’d never want any other man but him.
Dori was his. He’d known it for a while, and once he’d gotten his cock in her pussy, there was no way he was letting her go. She was his. Before this day was through, before they went to face possible death, she’d know it, too.
She had told him she loved him; now she’d admit she was his as surely as he belonged to her.
He lapped at her soft folds, gentle strokes that had her grinding against his mouth, demanding more. She was sheened with sweat, panting as he tongued her. She tasted so damn good, he couldn’t help himself from stabbing his tongue into her channel as far as he could so he could draw her taste into the back of his throat.
His cock was so hard he felt as if it could drill through wood. He was on fire for her, and if he didn’t get inside her soon…but, first, he wanted to drive her crazy again. He plunged two fingers into her wet channel and sucked her clit back into his mouth.
“Jake!” She wailed his name, ending on a gasp when he scissored his fingers in her slick sheath. He flicked his tongue across her clit, tiny, quick taps that tightened her vagina around his plunging fingers.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Dori pushed against his face. “More!”
Jake would have laughed if he could have, but his gut was so twisted with the taste and sight of her he could only groan as he complied with her demand. He added a third finger, pumping them into her grasping pussy fast and hard.
Her groan of arousal went straight to his straining cock, making it harder yet. He sucked on one of her outer labia, rasping his tongue over the sensitive flesh, then repeated the action on its twin. Dori gasped and curled her fingers into the bed sheets.
“Jake…”
He lifted his head and smiled slowly at the sight of her. Auburn hair spilled wildly around her face, which was pink with arousal. Her mouth was swollen and even as he watched she bit down on her lower lip.
“Tell me what you want, cher.” He blew softly on her clit. “Tell me, an’ I’ll give it to you.” He wiggled his fingers in her pussy for incentive.
“Oh, God,” she wailed, squirming against him. “God, Jake, please…”
“Tell me.” Merde, she had him so hot he felt like he was going to explode. He could barely talk through the constriction in his throat, a constriction that matched the death grip his cock had on the rest of his body.
Another wiggle of his fingers, and she shuddered around him.
“Suck my clit. Please, Jake, suck my clit.” Her voice ended on a shriek when he sucked her pleasure bud back into his mouth and drew on it with hard suction, knowing it would throw her over the edge.
She went over with a yell, bucking her hips so hard she nearly broke his neck. Her cunt clamped down on his fingers and she convulsed, crying out with pleasure.
Dori came down from the peak, feeling her pussy still gripping his fingers with small, soft spasms. She realized that Boudreau had moved up her body and now sucked hungrily on one of her nipples.
“You doin’ okay there, cher?” He switched to the other nipple, taking it gently between white teeth before drawing the nub into his mouth. His wicked fingers kept stroking into her slick passage, curling into her G-spot.
“Mmm. Oh, God, Jake—” She broke off on a gasp when he started sucking at her nipple, hard. She was so turned on she was ready to come again.
He moved his hand steadily, pushing his fingers in, pulling them out. In. Out. In. Out.
“Jake!” Dori wailed, thrashing her head against the pillows, canting her hips upward to give him better access.
“Am I hurtin’ you, cher?” he asked, his voice deep and dark, raspy with need.
“No, oh, God, no. It feels so good.”
“Help me here.” Withdrawing his hand from her pussy, he handed her a foil packet. She ripped it open with shaking fingers, nearly dropping it when his fingers once again started up their rhythm inside her. She fumbled, rolling the condom over his erection. Immediately, he pulled his fingers out and his cock burrowed into her pussy, the length thick and hard and hot. He pushed until he was in to the hilt, and she moaned at the fullness of his cock in her slick channel.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks heat from the word she’d only used before as an expletive. Never as a verb.
“Fuck you how, cher?” he asked, his voice a growl. “Soft an’ slow? Or hard an’ fast?”
“Hard and fast. Oh, God, I want you to fuck me hard.” Dori lifted against him, gasping when his cock slipped another inch inside her.
He gave a short, hard thrust, then pulled back slightly, only to push in deeper.
Boudreau flexed his hips and rammed into her, thrusting hard and fast, and, oh, God, so deep. He pounded into her so hard her breasts bounced and the headboard of the bed thumped against the wall. The sound of flesh smacking flesh filled the room, the smell of their arousal permeated the air.
She stared at him with eyes she knew were wide with arousal and excitement. His own eyes were narrowed and gleaming with lust, his irises almost swallowed up by the black of his pupils. Sweat glistened on his bronzed shoulders and chest. Leaning forward, she swiped her tongue and licked up a bead of sweat rolling between his pectorals.
The action tightened her around his thick shaft and they both gasped. “Fuck me, Jake,” she whispered and leaned up until she could slide her hands around and grab his butt cheeks. She squeezed the hard flesh and rubbed her fingers over the sensitive skin between his buttocks.
Muttering a thick curse, he slowly pulled out and pushed his way back in.
Dori cried out at the easy thrusts of his thick cock, at the incredible building, spiraling need. He pulled his cock free by several inches before surging back inside her snug sheath.
“More,” she cried. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”
“Rub your clit, bébé.” His voice was deep, guttural. “Rub it. Show me how you like it.”
Dori moaned and rubbed her fingers against her clit in short, hard circles. He growled her name and picked up the pace, fucking into her with hard, deep thrusts.
“You’re mine, Dori.” He plowed into her and held himself still. “Say it.”
“Jake.” Dori tried to push her hips against him, tried to get him to move. She could feel his balls pressing against her ass and it was driving her crazy.
“Say it, cher. Admit you belong to me, an’ I’ll give us both what we want.”
She stared into his eyes and saw the burning need there. Not just physical need, although she knew he felt that. The emotional need in his gaze was so strong it brought tears to her eyes. As much as she was his, he was hers. If he thought differently, she’d make sure he knew the truth before the day was done.
“I belong to you.” She moved both hands around to cup his neck. Drawing his face down to hers, she kissed him, pushing her tongue inside the heated depths of his mouth. She pulled back enough to whisper, “And you belong to me.”
With a growl, he tunneled into her so fast and deep that she tumbled into an orgasm so intense she could barely breathe. Vaguely she heard Boudreau’s shout as he climaxed, and she felt the pulsing of his cock as his release jetted with hot spurts into the condom.
When he made to move off her, she murmured, “Stay.” She clasped her ankles around his thighs to hold him in place. “I want to stay just like this.”
“Like this?” he asked, and pumped his hips against her, pushing his cock deeper into the hot clasp of her body.
“Mmm…ahh.” She ran her fingers down the smooth skin of his back, drawing circles over his damp flesh. She loved his back—long, lean muscles she could curve her hands around.
“I’m too heavy for you, cher. You won’t be able to breathe.” He gently suckled one nipple, then the other.
She sighed and pressed his head down to rest against her chest. “I’ll breathe later.”
Dori roused, unsure of what woke her. She stretched against Boudreau, realizing that at some point he had pulled his cock free from her pussy and had taken care of the condom. His brawny arm lay heavily across her stomach. One hairy leg anchored hers to the bed. She stretched again, smiling at the pleasant ache in her muscles.
“It’s about time you woke up.”
She gasped and grabbed the covers, pulling them over her breasts. “Sabin! What…” She glanced at Boudreau, whose eyes were still closed. His chest rose and fell steadily. “What are you doing in here?” she whispered, glaring at the vampire.
“It
is my house,” he whispered back. His face was somber, but his deep blue eyes held a mischievous twinkle. It was disconcerting, seeing that lightness of emotion in his intense eyes. As usual, he was clothed completely in black.
“Yes, well, we’re not exactly dressed for visitors.” She tried to glare harder. It was irritating when it seemed to have no effect. Damned vampire. Always acting so superior. It didn’t help that, with his level of magick, Sabin
was superior.
“Give it up,
cher,” Boudreau murmured. He propped up on one elbow. “What is it?” he asked the vampire. His voice was husky from sleep, but had a hard note that made Dori look at him. A muscle twitched in his tightly held jaw.
Sabin spoke before she could ask what the problem was. “It is nearly nine a.m.” Sabin looked pointedly at his watch. “I have given you all the time I can. We must make our plans and gather our supplies.” Without waiting for either of them to respond, he turned and walked to the door. “Get dressed and come downstairs. Grady is preparing breakfast.”
He closed the door behind him.
“He’s a man of few words, eh?” Boudreau leaned down and pressed a kiss against her shoulder, then one in the sensitive crook of her neck. His voice was once again that of her sexy lover.
She sighed and tilted her head, giving him easier access. “Mmm.” His stubbled jaw rasped across her skin, sending hot/cold shivers through her body. “What—”
“As much as I’d like to follow this to its logical conclusion,
cher, we don’t have time.” Deep regret colored his tone.
She knew he was right, but it still sucked. Big time. She heaved a sigh and gave him a lingering kiss, then threw off the covers. Getting out of bed, she stretched.
From behind her came a low groan that was part growl. She looked over her shoulder to see Boudreau crawling across the bed toward her. Hard muscles bunched and released, dark eyes glittered with feral, lustful intent.
She held up her hand. “Jake, we don’t have time. Remember?”
He stopped, holding her gaze for a moment before dropping his head. “Damn.” He flexed his shoulders. “Go take a shower,
cher. I’ll wait.” He flopped down, head and arms hanging over the edge of the bed.
Walking into the bathroom, Dori gave him a lingering look. Long legs, tight ass, strong back and shoulders. Her fingers curled with the need to dig into his hard flesh. With a sigh, she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
They didn’t have time. Maybe tomorrow. But if they weren’t successful tonight, there would be no tomorrows.
For either of them.
“Boudreau is right, Dori.” Sabin leaned back in his chair and sipped from a cup. At Jake’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged and offered, “Coffee. It doesn’t do anything for me, but I enjoy the flavor.”
Dori took the fork from Jake and ate a few more bites. She pushed the plate away. “I’m done. I can’t eat any more.”
Jake could see a spark of defiance in her gaze and knew that to push her on this would get him nowhere. Another thing he’d learned as a cop: fight the battles you can win, or the battles you have no choice but to fight. This particular skirmish didn’t fit either of those scenarios.
Sabin must have agreed, for he motioned to Grady, who came forward and cleared the table. As soon as the older man left the room, Sabin leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “First, we need to gather supplies. I have a sufficient amount of juniper berries, but we’ll need more Dragon’s Blood than I have available.”
Jake’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Dragon’s Blood?”
Sabin sighed. No doubt impatient with his lack of knowledge. Again.
“It’s resin from a plant, Jake,” Dori said, with a hard look at the vampire. “I have some at the hotel. Never leave home without it,” she quipped in response to Jake’s questioning look. She glanced back at Sabin. “My supply is from the
Dracaena Draco tree.”
“Hmm. Mine is
Sangre del Drago, from Mexico.” Sabin paused, tapping his chin. “It should not matter. You will go and retrieve your supply and, while you’re doing so, I will craft a spell of protection and ready the incense for power amplification. Then we’ll finish this, once and for all.”
“Bossy, ain’t he?” Jake sat back in his chair and looped one arm over the back. When the vampire looked at him, Jake quirked an eyebrow. He knew his entire demeanor was almost guaranteed to provoke Sabin, but he didn’t care. He’d had enough of the other man’s arrogance.
The fact that Sabin had seen Dori’s breasts still rankled, although Jake was doing his best not to act on it. It wasn’t just that he was certain he’d come out with the short stick in a match up between him and Sabin. He wasn’t sure how Dori would react to such a primitive display of possession. Never mind that she’d agreed she belonged to him; it was said during the heat of sex. In the cold light of day, he wasn’t sure she’d be so agreeable.
Independent, take-charge women could surely try a man’s patience.
Remembering this particular woman’s take-charge attitude from the night before made a certain unruly part of his anatomy rear up and take notice.
Dieu, she could try his patience to next week and back if she’d always go down on him as enthusiastically as she had last night.
Sabin inclined his head. “You’re right, Boudreau. It was thoughtless of me to enter your room uninvited. It will not happen again.”
Merde. The man could read minds, too?
Sabin’s lips tilted on one side. “Your face is very expressive, Detective. Especially to one who has been around as long as I have.” He stood and pushed his chair against the table. “But, don’t worry. I don’t read minds. I merely put myself in your place and asked how I would feel if I’d awoken to find another man had seen my woman’s nudity.”
He walked to a long-doored cupboard and opened it. From around the door came his voice. “I would have been most displeased.”
“Displeased, nothin’,” Jake muttered. “I was pissed.”
Dori sent him a look, making him realize she had just figured out why he’d seemed angry upon finding Sabin in their room. Her eyes widened slightly, then she dropped her gaze to his lap. Seeing his erection, her face flushed, and she looked away, biting her lip.
“Would you two get your libidos under control!” Sabin plunked two jars on the table.
Jake leaned forward, ignoring Sabin’s comment and trying to ignore his hard-on. One of the jars contained small berries. “They look like blueberries.”
“Yes, when dried they take on this darker color. But, believe me, if you tasted one you would know immediately you weren’t eating a blueberry.” Sabin screwed off the lid and picked up one of the small, round berries. “They are quite bitter.”
The vampire pointed to the other jar. “That is Dragon’s Blood resin.”
Jake picked up the jar and shook it. The contents clanked against the glass. “Look like li’l red rocks.”
“They act as a power enhancer.” Dori pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “We should go, Jake.”
“Yes, yes, go.” Sabin took the jar of resin nuggets from Jake. “I will get everything prepared.” He walked to the back door, where he plucked a set of keys from a hook on the wall. “Here, take the Boxster.” He glanced at Dori. “Unless you’d rather take the Harley?”
“No way.” Dori crossed her arms. “I’m not even sure I want him driving the Boxster. Can’t we take the Mercedes?” The look on her face suggested that she thought they’d be safer in the bigger car.
“Aw, come on,
cher.” Jake pulled her into his arms and kissed the corner of her mouth. Pitching his voice deep and giving it a deliberate rasp, he promised, “I’ll give you the best ride of your life.”
She pinched him in the side, hard.
He tried not to flinch.
Merde, but she had strong fingers. “Now, cher, don’t be so mean.” He pressed a kiss to her full bottom lip. This was one battle he was willing to fight. It wasn’t every day he was offered a chance to drive such a powerful sports car. “I’m only tellin’ you true.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Fine. I’ll be sure to say ‘I told you so’ after you wrap us around a tree.”
“You wound me,
cher. I’ve had the best driver’s training the State of Louisiana has to offer.” Jake gave her a quick kiss on her mouth then reached around for the keys.
Sabin placed them in his hand, a small smile playing about his mouth. With a stern look belied by the humor gleaming in his eyes, the vampire said, “If you wrap my car around a tree, I’ll do more than say ‘I told you so.’”
Jake gave a derisive snort. “We’ll be fine. Come on,
ma petite.”
Dori led the way to the garage. She walked around to the passenger side, aware that Boudreau was right behind her.
“Let me get that for you,
cher.” He reached around her to open the door and she inhaled his scent, a lingering odor of soap and musky male that made her bones loosen. She would’ve thought she had her desire under control, as many times as they’d made love during the night. He’d reached for her more than once, and that last time…
With his cock buried deep in her pussy and his demand that she admit she belonged to him, she’d never felt so dominated…And liberated at the same time. Somehow, defying logic, giving up control had set her free.
She pressed a kiss to his hard jaw and then got into the car. He carefully closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once inside, he buckled his seatbelt, pressed the automatic door opener, waited until the garage door was fully open, and turned the key in the ignition.
The powerful engine hummed to life. When he pressed the accelerator a few times, gunning the engine, she grinned. “Just can’t resist, can you?”
“It’s a beautiful thing,
cher. A work of art.”
She’d never understand the male fascination for automated vehicles. It didn’t seem to matter if they were sports cars, diesel pickups, motorcycles, or luxury automobiles. If it had an engine, men were in love.
He adjusted the mirrors then ran his fingers around the black leather steering wheel. Touched the dashboard. Curled his hand around the gearshift. His expression was enraptured, like a child seeing Santa Claus for the first time.
It was irritatingly endearing. But when he rubbed his thumb across the knob of the gearshift, she decided enough was enough. “Oh, for crying out loud, Boudreau. Put the damned car in reverse and let’s go.”
He grinned at her like a little boy, but obligingly shifted the lever into reverse before he backed the car out. Pushing the gearshift into first gear, he looked at her expectantly. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she muttered and grabbed at the door, not really finding anything to latch on to.
“We’re not even movin’ yet,
cher.”
“I’m just getting ready.” When the car didn’t move, she looked at him.
He stared at her with one arrogant brow cocked over twinkling brown eyes.
“Well?” She tried to lift just one of her eyebrows and failed. Damn, she’d never been able to pull off that look as well as Boudreau could.
He merely grinned and pressed the accelerator. The car surged forward. She watched his square-tipped fingers skillfully handle the steering wheel, coming down periodically to smoothly shift gears. Remembering those long fingers on her body, she squirmed in her seat.
Focus, Dori. We have work to do, and you lusting after his body isn’t going to help.
But he was too alluring to not touch at all. She reached out with her left hand and twined her fingers in the silky hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes immediately went half-mast with pleasure. That fast, and he went from boyishly charming to a self-assured, aroused man.
“Damn,
petite. You put your hands on me, an’ I’ll follow you anywhere.”
With a pleased smile, she settled back into her seat and kept her hand on his nape. Too soon they’d turned onto Royal Street and were pulling up in front of the Monteleone. She gave his skin a lingering caress then removed her hand. The doorman opened the car door and helped her out of the low-slung car. “Thank you, Charlie,” she murmured.
A wide smile brightened the doorman’s dark face. He tipped his hat. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Falcon.” Looking at Boudreau as he walked around the car and joined them, he asked, “Shall I have the valet move your car, sir?”
“No, thanks. Charlie, is it?” Boudreau waited for the man’s nod. “We won’t be long. The car will be all right here, then?”
“Yessir, it’ll be jus’ fine here. Don’ worry.”
She and Boudreau walked through the opulent lobby. When she smiled and waved at the concierge, Boudreau commented, “You don’ meet any strangers, do you,
cher?”
“Not many.” While they waited for the elevator, she looped her arm through his. He briefly squeezed her arm against his side and pressed a kiss against her temple.
As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, Boudreau pushed her against the wall and slanted his mouth hungrily over hers. When she opened her lips under his sensual assault, his tongue slipped into her mouth like wet, hot silk. The sensation rocketed straight to her pussy, and she gave a moan. Her eyes fluttered shut. Opening her mouth wider, she rose up on her toes and twined her arms around his neck.
She needed more of him. She wanted to drink him down.
He didn’t waste the opportunity. One broad hand flattened against her back, pulling her groin against him. The other hand clamped around the back of her neck, holding her head immobile. He controlled the kiss, and at that moment she didn’t want it any other way.
His head lifted, and she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. His breath came hard and fast. Moving his hands to cup her rear, he lifted her. Reflexively, she wrapped her legs around his hips, clasping her ankles under his buttocks.
The action fit the notch of her pussy against his erection. They groaned in unison.
He kept one hand under her ass. The other one wrapped in her hair and tilted her head, and he pounced once again on her mouth.
She closed her eyes and groaned again. Boudreau was the only man who could turn her on so fast, so hard. Even with the slight sting in her scalp where his hand gripped her hair, the bruising of her lips from the force of his mouth grinding onto hers—or maybe because of it. Her panties were so wet she was sure her arousal would seep through her jeans.
He took the kiss deeper, fucking into her mouth with his tongue. Pressure gathered in her pelvis, making her pussy clench and weep in response. She rubbed her mound against him, feeling an orgasm hovering just out of her grasp. She whimpered into his mouth and strained against him. Her nipples tightened painfully. Mindlessly, she dragged her breasts back and forth against his chest.
He tilted his pelvis just a fraction and that was all it took. Her womb clenched, her nipples stabbed into his chest. She exploded with one long wail that was swallowed by his mouth.
Strong teeth nipped her bottom lip, and the slight sting sent another round of shudders through her body. Dori hung suspended in his arms, fighting to breathe while he drew her orgasm out with purposeful expertise. Once the last spasm had faded, she rested her head on his shoulder and let her feet slide to the floor.
His big hand released her hair and rubbed up and down her back. He pressed his face against the top of her head. “You okay, there,
cher?” The deep rumble of his voice sent another convulsive shudder through her.
“Hmm.” She rubbed her face against his shoulder then rested her ear against his chest. His heart raced, thumping loudly in her ear. “I feel great. How ’bout you?”
His chuckle reverberated against her face. Taking one hand in his, he drew it down his waist, past his belt, to the hard ridge of his cock. “What you think,
cher? How do I feel to you?” His voice was raspy with lust.
Dori felt the thick pike of his cock and curled her fingers over him. Her tongue swiped over swollen lips that felt too dry even as smoldering desire flickered to life low in her belly. Flattening her palm, she caressed the length of his shaft with one firm stroke and watched his eyes narrow in response.
With a muttered oath, he reached to the side and hit a button, and the elevator—which she hadn’t even realized he’d brought to a stop—lurched on its way.
It came to a smooth stop on the thirteenth floor and the doors pinged open. With a blush, Dori pulled her hand away from Boudreau and stepped in front of him. They exited the elevator, nodding politely to the elderly couple waiting to get on.
“What was the holdup?” the woman muttered to the man, with a glare directed at Dori and Boudreau.
“Never mind, dear.” As he was passing Dori, the older man grinned and winked at her.
Dori gasped, then laughed and dragged Boudreau away from the elevator.
“What?” Boudreau pulled her into his arms, clasping his hands behind her back.
“They knew exactly what we were doing. At least
he did.”
“And that embarrasses you?”
His voice was devoid of emotion. She recognized the tone. He was trying very hard to hide what he was feeling. She pulled back from him and searched his face. The dark depths of his eyes gave her what she was searching for. He cared. Deeply. And was afraid that, even though she’d admitted her love to him, she didn’t share the depth of his feelings.
She loved this man; she would tell him as often as she needed to. Especially since, if things didn’t go as planned with the demon, she wouldn’t have many more chances. Reaching up, she clasped his face between her palms. Holding his gaze with hers, she said in a tone as firm as she could manage, considering she wanted to cry with joy, “I’m not embarrassed. I love you, Jake Boudreau.”
His eyes closed. When they opened again, they blazed with such love that she did weep. His thumbs reached up and brushed the moisture from her face. “Ah, don’ cry,
cher.” He rubbed the moisture from her eyes. “I love you, too.”
“I know.”
When he raised an eyebrow at her cockiness, she grinned through her tears.
“Hmm.” He kissed her, a lingering meeting of lips and souls. When he pulled back, his eyes had gone black with desire. “Don’ think that this gets you outta trouble,
cher. I’m still mad at you for not tellin’ me the whole truth.”
Dori did her best to look guilty, but she was so happy she knew she didn’t pull it off. She took his hand and pulled him down the hallway toward her room. “If I promise to behave from now on, Detective, will you let me off for good behavior?”
“Nope.” He ran a hand over her ass, then pinched, making her jump.
“Hey!”
His grin had a definite feral edge to it. “When this is over, you an’ me, we’re gonna have a serious talk. After I paddle your cute little butt.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Never mind that her heart thumped faster at the image of her facedown over his lap, his big hand turning her ass cheeks red. She clenched her thighs against the renewed pulsing in her pussy.
“Never mind,
cher. We can talk about it later.”
She fished the door card out of her purse and opened the door to her room. Morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, throwing wispy shadows onto the mint green carpet. As soon as the door shut behind them, Boudreau swept her up into his arms and strode to the bed. He plopped her down on the edge and went down on one knee in front of her. Big hands drew off her shoes and socks.
“Um, Jake?” Dori watched his big hands curl around her feet, felt his thumbs stroke across her insteps. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She knew, of course. She wasn’t dense. But he was just so much fun to tease.
He stared up at her with glittering dark eyes. “I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna do some lovin’ here.”
She pressed her lips together to hold back a grin. “But…” She sighed and looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “We don’t have time.”
“There’s time enough for this.” He got to his feet and shrugged out of his jacket. Lean fingers went to his shirt buttons and started to slide them out of their holes.
She cleared her throat and stood, easing around him. Bending, she scooped up her socks and shoes. She tucked her socks into the shoes and turned, thinking she’d sit on the chair at the small table tucked into the corner.
“I don’t think so,
cher.” Boudreau emptied her hands, dropping the shoes onto the floor. Before she could do much more than blink, he had her flat on the bed, both arms raised above her head. He grabbed his handcuffs off his belt loop and clasped one around her right wrist, threaded the handcuff chain through the slats of the headboard, and then fastened the other cuff around her left wrist.
Her gut tightened and heat spread to her core. Finally, he was putting his handcuffs to good use. But she couldn’t let go of the game, not just yet. “Boudreau,” she said, giving the cuffs a jiggle, “this is unauthorized use of city property, isn’t it?”
He grinned, humor sparkling in his eyes, though there was enough hot passion in his gaze to spark an answering excitement in her. “No,
cher. The use of cuffs to subdue an uncooperative suspect is entirely acceptable.”
He leaned over her, left hand braced by her hip. His partially unbutton shirt gaped open, and her gaze centered on his broad, muscular chest with its light covering of dark hair. Her fingers curled with the need to touch him there.
“I’ll behave,” Dori promised. “Take these off me.”
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. Bending, he took her mouth with his, demand and dominance in his touch. His tongue swept between her lips, tangled with hers. When he withdrew, she followed, claiming him as surely as he’d claimed her.
With a groan, Boudreau lifted his head and took a deep breath. “God, I could spend a lifetime on your mouth.” His whiskey voice rasped against her eardrums and set her clit thumping.
He straightened and brought his hands to her blouse. Long fingers unbuttoned it and pushed it to her sides. “Pretty,” he commented upon seeing her lavender bra. “But it’s in the way.” Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra and eased the cups up to rest above her breasts.
Her nipples peaked, and not just from the cool air hitting them. The look in his dark eyes, the way his fingers held a slight tremble when he lightly touched one hard nub, did just as much to tighten her nipples as anything else.
He rubbed his finger back and forth. Her clit thumped, her pussy clenched, empty and wanting. He flicked his short nail lightly against her taut nipple, and she shuddered as his touch sparked an answering flare deep in her creaming pussy.
“Jake…” Her voice ended on a gasp as he pinched her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Dori jerked her wrists in the cuffs, needing to touch him in return.
Boudreau tugged on her nipple, twisting and pulling. With graceful speed, he bent once again and latched on to her nipple with his mouth, suckling strongly at her.
Tugging uselessly at her bonds, she arched into the heat of his mouth with a small cry.
Rubbing his thumb back and forth over the nipple he’d just sucked, he bent and took the other nub into his mouth, sucking and licking and nibbling, his need building at her breathless moans of desire.
“Jake, take off these damned cuffs.”
He lifted his mouth long enough to shake his head and say, “I like you just like this.”
“But I can’t touch you.”
He rose up, bringing his mouth so close to hers he could feel her warm breath puffing against his skin. He smiled, a slow, feral smile that came from deep in his soul. “Oh, but I can touch you.” He brushed his mouth against hers, ever so slightly, before he pulled away.
Reaching out, he traced across the upper slopes of her breasts with his index finger, forcing himself to go slowly, to build her arousal, when all he wanted to do was slide her under him and rut on her like some wild animal.
Her nipples puckered, the tips red and hard. Tempting.
In cases like this, his motto was always to give in to temptation.
With a groan, he bent over her and licked across one taut nub. She shivered and moaned. He rubbed his face against her, feeling her nipple tighten further against the stubbled skin of his cheek.
Turning his head, he captured the peak of her breast between his lips. He suckled her, gently at first, then with more force. He cupped her, pushing her ample breasts together, and kneaded them roughly.
Her hips arched, and she gave a keening wail. He nipped sharply at the tight bud, then moved to her other breast. Pulling her nipple into his mouth, he trapped it against the roof of his mouth. She was so soft, her breasts perfect under his hands.
“Jake, let me loose!” Dori bucked against him, more in frustrated arousal than any real anger. She wanted to run her hands over his taut biceps, his hard chest. She wanted to rip his pants off and wrap her hands—her body—around his big cock.
He ignored her demand. His hands went to the waistband of her pants. He thumbed open the button, then took hold of the zipper tab. The rasp of the zipper sliding down sounded loud in the room.
“Lift your hips.” His voice was low and rasped along her nerve endings like rough velvet. She braced herself with her feet and arched, lifting her hips off the bed. He slid both jeans and panties down and off her legs.
He stared at her pussy, his face hard with need. When he lifted his gaze to hers, she gasped at the heat blazing in his golden eyes. One broad hand cupped her, fingers sliding through her slick folds.
“You’re already so wet,” he growled. His fingers probed, scissored around her clit and tugged lightly.
She moaned and lifted her hips. “I’m always like this,” she gasped, “with you.” Her pussy clenched at his touch and the dark look in his eyes. When he pushed one long finger into her channel, her muscles clamped down. She felt her cunt begin to flood in earnest.
His eyes sharpened, his nostrils flared, and she knew he could smell her arousal. She tugged at her bonds restlessly.
Moving his focus from her sex, he looked up, frowning. “Are your arms all right?”
“That’s what I keep telling you.” She matched his frown. “Get these off me.”
“Answer the question.”
She huffed a sigh. Looking into his eyes, she thought about lying, but when one eyebrow rose, she knew, somehow, he’d know she was fibbing. “They’re fine,” she grudgingly admitted.
A smile quirked a corner of his mouth. “Then let’s get down to business, shall we?”
He wedged his brawny shoulders under her thighs and separated her labia with his fingers. One thumb grazed her swollen clit and she jerked.
Craning her head, she looked down at him, perched between her legs, his gaze focused hungrily on her sex.
“God, you’re so pretty here.” His voice was low and filled with wicked sensuality. The first long swipe of his tongue over her sensitive flesh made her moan. When his pointed tongue stabbed between her labia, she arched in ecstasy.
“Jake!” Her head fell back onto the pillows. Her eyes closed as she focused completely on what he was doing to her.
Flicking his tongue over and around her opening, he licked a wide path, making sure each pass caught her clit. He lapped at her, licking the cream that spilled from her sheath. At the same time, his fingers molded and fondled her outer lips, pinching and pressing the swollen flesh.
When he pulled her clit into his mouth, she groaned and ground her pussy against his face. One long finger slid inside her sheath, moving in and out in a steady rhythm, setting up corresponding pulses in her sex.
Sharp need spiked through her, dragging the breath from her in ragged gasps. He licked her slit, plunged his finger in and out, added another finger.
In. Out. In. Out.
Dori clenched her fingers, her nails digging into her palms. Her hips pumped against his mouth, onto his fingers, without any conscious direction from her. Removing his fingers from her sheath, Boudreau dipped his tongue inside and flicked the tip against the sensitive walls of her passage. His tongue fucked inside her with hard, blistering strokes, and her body answered by spilling more heated liquid into his greedy mouth.
Fire gathered inside her, turning her core molten. The flat of his tongue swiped a wide path through her folds. His mouth opened over her clit, and he began to suck. Hard.
Dori bucked against him, dislodging him for a moment. With a soft snarl, he placed a large hand on her belly, pushing her back down, and began to suckle again.
His tongue pulled with steady rhythmic pulses on her clit. Long fingers speared inside her and thrust deep and hard. She felt her face flush and the world spiraled down to one focal point at the juncture of her thighs. She pushed against him, trying to bring him deeper.
He gave a hoarse, satisfied groan and kept sucking. Adding a third finger, he plunged into her faster. Her entire body stiffened, and she keened as her orgasm rushed through her.
It wasn’t enough. She shuddered, staring up at him as he straightened from between her thighs. “Jake, please,” she gasped. “I need you inside me.”
His lips and chin were shiny with her juices, his eyes almost black, hot with lust. With a low growl, Boudreau swiped his hand across his face, then finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off and dropping it on the floor.
He bent and took off his shoes and socks. Straightening, he set his big hands on the zipper tab of his jeans. She licked her lips and watched as he slowly drew the tab down. Then, with economy of movement, he pushed his pants and boxers off and kicked them away. His erection bounced against his belly, the slitted tip already streaming pre-cum.
Dori licked her lips again, imagining the tangy, salty taste of him against her tongue. “Let me loose,” she pleaded, pulling against the restraints. “I want to touch you.”
Jake wanted to feel her hands against him. Needed to feel her fingers wrapped around his cock, but not yet. If she touched him, his control would be shot. He needed to get inside her and fuck them both senseless. Only then would he be able to bear her touch without going completely primal on her. “Not yet.” He groaned at the sight of her, nipples still hard, pussy slick with cream. “Not just yet.”
He stared down at Dori, watching her as she writhed impatiently against the mattress. Her fingers curled around the slats of the headboard so tightly her knuckles shone white.
He rubbed one hand over her breasts, feeling her nipples tight and hard under his palm. God, he had to get inside her. Now. He started to reach for his pants to retrieve his wallet.
“I’m on the Pill,” she said, her voice low and raspy. Her tongue slid out and wet her lips, and his eyes followed the movement. “And I haven’t…” she broke off with a slight blush.
“You haven’t what?”
“I haven’t been with anyone for a long time. So I’m clean.”
Settling on top of her, he took her mouth in a ravenous kiss. “I’m good to go, too,” he muttered as he curved his hands under her ass and lifted her, driving his cock inch by inch into the heated clasp of her body, gritting his teeth against the pleasure.
Skin on skin. He shuddered at the feel of her surrounding him without the usual latex barrier.
She was hot. Wet. And so goddamned tight she was about to kill him.
Jake braced himself on his elbows, flexing his hips, thrusting deeper, feeling her legs wrap around him, her heels digging into his ass. The muscles in her slick channel fluttered around him, gripping him like tiny little fingers as he began shuttling in and out.
Lowering his head, he speared his tongue between her lips, mimicking the action of his lower body. She moved beneath him, hips arching against his, his mouth swallowing the strangled mewls that came from her.
Slow, long thrusts became fast, hard lunges as he fucked her with the desperation and strength of the hungry lust that surged through him. Dori’s cunt rippled around him with the beginnings of another orgasm and he fought his way through the contractions that sought to hold him in one place.
His orgasm tightened his balls, and he shoved against her, holding himself firmly in place. Shudders racked her, clamping her inner muscles tight around his cock.
He threw back his head and shouted his release, flooding her with hot, thick spurts of semen. When the last spasm abated, he lowered his head and nuzzled her, keeping himself still inside her.
“Wow,” she breathed. “That was…that was…”
“Hmm?” Bracing himself on his elbows, Jake stared down into her face. Her green eyes were slumberous, her face flushed. He leaned down and licked a bead of sweat trickling down her neck. “That was what,
cher?”
“Good.”
He lifted his head and stared down at her, pretty sure she’d just insulted him. “Good? Just…good?”
“Really good.” She pressed her lips together, and he could see she was fighting back a grin. The little witch. When he didn’t respond, the grin broke through and she said, “Really, really,
really good.”
“Well, that’s okay then. ’Cause I was goin’ for really, really,
really good.” He grinned and kissed her, a quick, hard caress of affection.
Reality intruded. He lifted his head and slowly eased out of her.
“Jake,” she protested, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“We don’t have time for more,
cher, remember?”
She grumbled but loosened her hold. He unlocked the handcuffs and helped her off the bed. “I’ll be right back.” She headed toward the bathroom.
He watched her go, and grinned again at the exaggerated sway of her ass. As she reached the bathroom door she looked over her shoulder, and a wide smile spread over her face. She glanced down at his cock, stirring at his groin, and the smile widened.
“Yeah, you can smile all you want,
cher.” Jake started pulling on his clothing. “Jus’ wait ’til I get you alone when we have all the time in the world.”
“Promises, promises.” She winked and closed the door behind her.
That evening, Jake watched Dori and Sabin put the final touches on their preparations. Most of what they did was fascinating to him and far beyond his comprehension.
Both witch and vampire put juniper berries into small pouches. Dori tied one at her waist, then did the same for Jake. “For protection,” she said. She kissed him lightly on one cheek and went back to Sabin’s side.
Jake touched his cheek, feeling again the wonder that this incredible woman loved him. Him. The boy from the bayou. The hard-nosed cop. It made him believe that, with her love, he could accomplish anything.
Even defeat a demon.
Sabin lit small charcoals of incense and added granules of Dragon’s Blood. He motioned Jake closer. When he reached the vampire’s side, Sabin took his right hand. Dori held his left, and joined her left hand with Sabin’s right.
Jake watched the Dragon’s Blood boiling on the charcoals. It resembled the substance it was named after, roiling and bubbling in a dark red sheen on the hot coals.
Sabin started to speak, drawing Jake’s attention. He saw that the vampire stared into the flames of the three white candles burning beside the incense burner.
“Crafted in fire, crafted well, crafted higher. Woven of shining flame, none shall hurt or maim. None shall pass this fiery wall. None shall pass; no, none at all.” Sabin repeated the chant. Releasing Jake’s hand, he drew an object out of his pocket and placed it in the resin.
“The Eye of Bastet.” Dori reached out and took it out of the resin, handling it carefully so as not to get burned.
The amulet was copper in color, with a large chunk of ivory in the middle. It had four points, like a compass, each point filed to the sharpness of a dagger.
Sabin retrieved the amulet and put it back in his pants’ pocket. “We must go,” he said. He looked at Jake solemnly, his eyes glittering. “Dori,” he said. “One thing we can do for this mortal is offer a protection spell. Otherwise, I’m not sure he’ll be able to withstand Ra’Ziel.”
“Yes!” Dori took Jake’s hands in hers and closed her eyes. Sabin stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. “Hail and welcome, Ruler of the East, spirit of air and daybreak. Hail and welcome, Ruler of the South, spirit of fire and midday. Hail and welcome, Ruler of the West, spirit of water and twilight. Hail and welcome, Ruler of the North, spirit of earth and midnight. With the force of your wind, the flame of your power, the tide of your love, and the richness of your spirit, protect and guard Jake Boudreau from all manner of harm. So mote it be.”
“So mote it be,” Sabin repeated.
Dori made the sign of the cross on Jake’s face, touching his forehead, his chin, left cheek, then right cheek.
“Witches are practicin’ Catholics?” Jake asked, trying to lighten the mood of the moment.
Sabin scowled at him. “It is the sign of the four points on a compass. North, South, East, West. She asks for the Mother Goddess to protect you with Fire, Air, Water, and Earth.” He shook his head. “Half-wit.”
So much for being liked. Jake stopped Dori when she started to put her necklace around his neck. “What’s this?”
“It’s a protection amulet, very powerful.”
“It’s
“Listen, Jake. If everything goes right, and I’m hurt, Sabin can heal me with the Eye of Bastet. If things go wrong, well, then it won’t matter.” She stared at him, pleading in her dark gaze.
He knew she was right. If he was protected against the demon, he could help protect her as well.
He acquiesced, struck once again by her courage, and she placed the chain around his neck. She kissed the amulet and laid it against his chest.
“Let’s go.” Sabin strode out of the room, not waiting to see if they followed.
Jake grabbed Dori just inside the front door and gave her a hard kiss. “We get through this,
cher. You an’ me, we got some talkin’ to do, remember? About all this, and us.”
She nodded. “I know, Jake. I love you. The rest of it…we can work it out. I know we can.”
They went out the door together, climbed into Sabin’s Mercedes, headed toward the City of the Dead.
The hint of condescension in the vampire’s voice stiffened Dori’s spine, as she was sure he meant it to. Which was doubly annoying. “Yes, I’m ready.” She moved into position beside Sabin.
Sabin stood on the east side of the crypt. Going clockwise, he drew a circle around the crypt with salt. Once he’d closed the circle, he turned to face the East, palms facing forward at his sides. “I conjure thee, O circle of power, as thou encircle every tower. Mighty Aegis of the Lady and Lord, rampart of thought, action and word. In peace and power, work thou free; those who walk between two worlds, I conjure thee.”
“A boundary to protect, concentrate, and contain; that power raised here be not in vain.” Dori took up the chant, putting all her belief into the spell. “The Sacred Circle is now around us. We are here of our own free will, in peace and in love. We now invite thee, Lord and Lady, Father and Mother of all life, to attend our spell, to guard us within this circle and without it, from all manner of evil and harm. So mote it be.”
“So mote it be.” Sabin turned and looked at Boudreau. “Ra’Ziel will be here soon. You must be prepared.”
“I got it, Sabin. You don’ need to worry ’bout me.”
Out of the corner of her eye Dori saw Boudreau duck behind the crypt. Timing was critical. She only hoped she hadn’t led him to his death.
“Here comes the demon,” Sabin murmured. “Prepare yourself. His like you have never seen before.”
Ra’Ziel walked into view, his massive size dwarfing Arthur, who limped at his side. Dori bit her lip at the sight of her bruised and obviously shaken brother then gasped as she got a better look at Ra’Ziel.
The demon was monstrous in appearance, with a head the size of an eighty pound pumpkin and just as misshapen. A big, bulbous nose sat squarely on his face just below eyes that glowed red. A set of horns protruded from his forehead.
As he came closer, she saw his mouth—complete with two hideous rows of razor sharp teeth that were dingy and a sickening shade of green. A forked tongue flickered briefly as he tasted the wind. One massive hand grasped Arthur by the shoulder.
“Let us not waste time, vampire.” The demon’s voice boomed through the stillness of night.
Dori shivered, even though the light wind died down. Nothing stirred here except the players in this most dangerous game.
“Thou hast what I desire, I have something that thou desires. An uncomplicated exchange.”
“Uncomplicated?” Sabin moved two steps in front of Dori. “I think not. For me to give you the Eye of Bastet would mean the destruction of tens of thousands. Including myself and my friend here.” He motioned to Dori with one hand. Keeping that hand behind his back, when she reached forward he transferred the Eye of Bastet to her. “What assurances do I have that you won’t simply make us disappear once the Eye is in your possession?”
“No assurances, thou cursed abomination. That I must speak to thee at all is galling to the extreme.” The demon scowled, showing off his nasty pointed teeth. “Thou hast thy vampire magick to protect thee. Why doest thou worry about these pitiful witchfolk who give thee no respect?” He pushed Arthur to his knees. “Give me what I want, or this one dies. Now.”
Dori stepped back until her heel touched the bottom step of the crypt. “Now, Jake,” she whispered and handed him the Eye.
Boudreau moved around to the front of the crypt and took the jewel. He reached up and made three quick marks, then said, “I wish to defeat the demon Ra’Ziel.”
At the sound of his voice, the demon reared back and blasted Boudreau with a wave of heat that threw him violently against the side of the neighboring crypt. Dori reached for him but he waved her away. “I’m okay,” he wheezed. “You do what you gotta do,
cher.”
Dori and Sabin linked hands, and she quickly chanted a spell of protection for Arthur. She sensed Boudreau moving away from her, but maintained her concentration on Arthur and the demon.
Too late Ra’Ziel realized what was happening and, with a roar, he reached for the witch at his feet. His hands grasped at air, though Arthur remained solid. Ra’Ziel directed his fury toward the other two.
Dori and Sabin staggered under the onslaught, but remained on their feet. “Now would be a good time for your lover to make his move,” Sabin muttered, his grip tightening on Dori’s hand. “This is getting a bit uncomfortable.”
“You’re telling me.” Dori tried to ignore the beads of sweat rolling into her stinging eyes, tried to block out the one drop that clung stubbornly to the tip of her nose. “Come on, Jake,” she urged quietly. “Come on.”
A surge of pain flowed through her, and she bent over, nearly losing her connection with Sabin.
“Don’t let go,” he said through teeth clenched against the agony assaulting them. “Boudreau is almost there.”
As she peered through pain-misted eyes, she saw Boudreau take a flying leap at the demon. Ra’Ziel’s upper lip curled in a snarl, and he reached out and swatted Boudreau aside as if he were nothing more than a pesky gnat.
Boudreau gave a grunt and flew through the air nearly twenty feet, landing with a painful-sounding thud and rolling several yards before coming to an alarmingly still stop.
“Jake!” Dori tightened her fingers around Sabin’s hand.
Boudreau didn’t move.
Heart in her throat, Dori took a step forward.
“Don’t.” Sabin’s fingers squeezed hers. “If we lose our focus now, all will be lost.”
“But he’s hurt.” She didn’t want to voice the thought that followed.
Or worse. He wasn’t moving.
“And if you let go of me, let go of our combined power, we will all die.” He paused, tilting his head to one side. “He’s still alive.” As the demon increased the force of his onslaught, Sabin gave a little grunt and hunched his shoulders.
Dori gasped against the building pain. Her joints ached as if she had the flu, and agony knifed through her head. “How do you know?” She looked at Boudreau again. “I can’t even tell from here if he’s breathing.”
“I can hear his heartbeat.” Sabin’s voice was gruff, filled with pain. “We must hold on, Dori. There is no other choice.”
She forced her attention away from Boudreau and back onto Ra’Ziel. The demon’s face was scrunched with concentration, though she thought she saw a flicker of pain crease his brow.
At least he was feeling some of what she and Sabin were.
From the corner of her eye she caught movement and forced herself to stay focused on Ra’Ziel. If Boudreau was back in the game, the last thing she wanted to do was draw the demon’s attention to him.
“Thou hast no hope of defeating me.” The demon narrowed his eyes, his attention directed toward Sabin.
Dori frowned, then gave herself a mental kick for caring that the demon had yet to even look at her. She should count her blessings.
“If thou gives me the Eye now, perhaps I will find a way to spare thee.”
Sabin lifted his chin. “You really want it, don’t you?”
“To rid the world of witchfolk is my calling. My duty.” He turned that red-tinged gaze onto Dori.
Damn. See what you get for being miffed he’d ignored you?
“Starting with this one.” His lip curled. “And her brother.”
Boudreau ran in to her field of vision, the Eye held tight in his right hand. She caught her breath as, with a shrill cry of battle, he leaped through the air and thrust the Eye of Bastet right between the demon’s horns.
Blood spurted around the wound and, with a thunderous cry, Ra’Ziel clawed at the amulet protruding from his forehead. One powerful fist backhanded Boudreau, once again catapulting him several feet through the air. He thudded against the unforgiving stone of a crypt wall.
Ra’Ziel teetered and began to fall forward. Sabin stretched out his hand and made a quick motion, using his magick to move Arthur out of harm’s way.
Before the demon could reach the ground, his body was already ashes.
“Thank you, Madame Laveau,” Dori whispered, then ran to her brother. “Are you all right, Art?”
He nodded, and rubbed a shaking hand down his bruised cheek. “A little worse for wear, but I’m okay.” He motioned toward the unmoving body of Boudreau. “Go check out your friend.”
“Jake!” She knelt at his side and pulled his head onto her lap. “Jake, please wake up.”
He moved his head restlessly. His lashes flickered, but his eyes didn’t open.
She brushed silky strands of hair away from his face. Leaning over, she gave him a gentle kiss on his dry mouth. “Please wake up,” she whispered.
“Ah,
cher. Do that again, an’ maybe I’ll wake up.” He grinned and popped open one eye, then the other. “’Course, you do that again and sleep will be the last thin’ on my mind.”
Resting her hand on his chest, she felt the strong beat of his heart. Sending a silent expression of gratitude to the Mother Goddess, she leaned over and kissed him again.
“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Sabin reached down and hauled Dori to her feet, then did the same for Boudreau, keeping a steadying hand under his arm. “There will be restless spirits here tonight with all the power we have stirred up.”
“What about the Eye?” Art swayed unsteadily at Sabin’s side.
Sabin looked back to where the ashes of the demon still smoldered. “I fear the Eye of Bastet is lost forever. I am sorry,” he said to Art.
The other man shrugged and looked at Dori, who held onto the man who had saved his life. “Some things aren’t meant to be, I know that now. In my blind quest to bring Dad back to life, I nearly got myself and three other people killed.” He shook his head and added quietly, “Nearly got all witches killed.”
She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Dad was a believer in following the natural order, Art. He wouldn’t have wanted this.”
Her brother nodded. “I know. You tried to tell me, but…” He sighed and looked at her with eyes shining with tears. “He was our patriarch in every sense of the word, Dori. What are we supposed to do without him?”
Of all of them, Art had depended the most upon their father. The youngest of five children—and the only boy—she knew he’d be lost without the elder Falcon.
“We’ll muddle along just like every other person who’s ever lost a parent.” She tightened her grip on his hand and fought back her own tears. “You’re not alone, honey.”
“I know.” He left the support Sabin provided and took two limping steps forward, sliding one arm around her shoulders in an awkward one-armed hug.
When Boudreau eased away from her, she wrapped both arms around Art and held him. Tears suppressed since the night her father took his last breath broke free, and she held on to her brother. She’d almost lost him, too, tonight.
But she hadn’t. If she was lucky, Art had learned a lesson and would stay out of trouble from now on. Faint hope, but there it was.
And the goddess had given her a brave and honorable man who loved her for who—and what—she was. Truly, she was blessed.
Art made to draw away from her, and Dori let him go, swiping at her wet cheeks with her fingertips. He blinked and cleared his throat, knuckling away his own tears, looking embarrassed by his display of emotion.
Sabin walked over to Art and slipped one arm around his waist, encouraging Art to lean on him. “I am sorry for your loss,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky. “Edward Falcon was a man greatly admired among witchfolk.” He looked at Dori. “Are you ready to leave, little witch?”
She nodded and moved her shoulder under Boudreau’s arm, giving him the support he needed, though from the look on his face he didn’t like having to depend on someone else.
He’d just have to get used to it. He needed her, and she needed him, especially in the coming months to help her through the grief over her father’s death.
The four moved slowly out of the cemetery. Every few steps she’d hear Boudreau’s breath catch, and knew he was more injured than he let on. At the very least, from the way he’d smashed up against those crypts, he probably had a few cracked—if not broken—ribs.
At the car, Boudreau stopped and looked back at the rows of white and gray crypts.
“Mon Dieu,” he said softly. “I would never have believed this had I not been here.” He looked at Dori. “I’m glad I ran in to you last night, ma petite. Had I continued the investigation on my own, well, I’m sure I’d be joining my ancestors here.” He leaned down and kissed her softly at first, then with growing need.
“We’ll talk about that, too,” Dori told him when the kiss ended. Her body felt alive and vibrant, as if her skin was the only thing keeping her from bursting into a million pieces. He wasn’t afraid of her and her magick.
She helped Boudreau into the car and, just as she started to climb in, she looked to the front where Sabin was getting behind the wheel. He placed his clenched fist in the pocket of his jeans, then withdrew it.
She pursed her lips, but said nothing. The Eye of Bastet was not lost, literally. But, knowing Sabin, no one on this earth would ever see it again.
Which was as it should be. She and Boudreau had a conversation waiting and the rest of their lives together, she hoped. The last thing she wanted to worry about was an amulet that could put an end to her existence.
Sabin put the car in gear and drove away from the City of the Dead. “These two need medical attention, I think,” he said, and turned the car toward the local hospital.
“Adieu,” Dori murmured, staring through the back window at the cemetery.
“Good riddance, I say,” Boudreau muttered, shifting against the seat and wincing.
She smiled and pressed a kiss against his neck before resting her head against his shoulder.
He might be brash at times, but he was a good man. And he was hers.
And they would be magick together.
If you liked this book, try Jami Alden’s UNLEASHED, out this month from Brava…
No fucking way.
His breath caught and his nostrils flared as he took her in. He knew the thick black waves spilling to her waist, the mouthwatering curves elegantly draped in black wool. Her dress went from neck to wrist to knee and should have been modest, but only served to highlight the lush swell of her breasts, the deep curve of her waist, the sexy flare of her hips. The heels of her black pumps tap-tapped their way down the concrete steps and headed in his direction.
He dragged his gaze up to her face. Her luscious mouth was painted red and set in determined lines. Even though the sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, like him she wore sunglasses, her oversize frames hiding half her face. As though, like him, she didn’t want to chance anyone getting a peek into her soul.
Caroline fucking Palomares.
No, he reminded himself. Caroline fucking Medford.
Raw emotion spun up inside him, threatening to take him down. Lust. Anger. And a bunch of other crap he wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.
As she strode toward him, shoulders back, hips swinging like she had every right to be walking back into his life, today of all days, he struggled to put the lid back on the swirl of emotion struggling to break free. He reminded himself savagely of who she was. Caroline
Medford.
Wife of James Medford, rich attorney twenty years her senior. The same James Medford who could give her the affluent lifestyle he hadn’t realized she coveted until it was too late.
The same James Medford she may very well have killed to keep herself in fast cars and high fashion.
She was not the seventeen year old who’d promised she’d never leave him when she gave him her virginity. She was not the twenty year old who’d sobbed when he’d announced his plans to join the Special Forces after he graduated from West Point. She wasn’t even the twenty-two-year-old who’d told him to fuck off one final time before walking out on him without another word.
As she drew closer he focused on those differences. She was thinner, for one, he noticed as she got closer. And older, her mouth bracketed by fine lines that came from stress and age. Not to mention the wardrobe. He bet her outfit topped out at over a grand, even more if you counted the purse. A far cry from the wardrobe of a girl from a working class neighborhood who shopped at discount stores and went to private school on scholarship.
She was nothing like the girl he’d known, and he was nothing like the dumb kid who’d entertained romantic illusions like true love and happily ever after.
He took of his glasses, feeling a smile curl his lips for the first time in several days as she stumbled a little.
She was off center. Just the way he liked it. And he was in perfect control. Because Caroline Medford meant nothing to him.
If you’re HOLDING OUT
FOR A HERO, check out
HelenKay Dimon’s latest,
out next month from
Brava…
“Pardon me?”
He pointed at her forehead. “The way you talk. It’s what throws off this whole picture.”
A wave of confused dizziness hit her. “I have no idea”
“There’s emotion in your voice, well, sort of, but your body never moves.” He nodded his head as if warming to the subject. “Makes me wonder if there’s any feeling inside there anywhere. I’m betting no.”
The shaking moving through her turned to fury. Ten more seconds of his garbage and he’d be feeling her hand smack across his face. “You don’t need to worry about my body.”
His eyebrows rose. “If you say so.”
“I need your detective skills.”
The lazy grin vanished as his back snapped straight again. “No way.”
“What kind of response is that for a grown man?”
“The only one you’re going to get.”
“Could you at least try to be civil?”
“You killed that possibility a long time ago, lady.”
Okay, she deserved that. He refused to understand her position, but she couldn’t exactly blame him for the anger. “I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for Ryan.”
“You pay a whole team of professionals to poke around in other people’s private lives for you. Get some of them to do your work. You don’t need me.”
Lot of good all that money did her so far. “I actually do.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame since I already have a job.”
Time for a reality check. “Word is that might not be true soon.”
“Visiting my office again, Ms. Armstrong?”
As she watched, he turned into a serious, uncompromising professional. He talked to her with a tone part soothing and part condescending. She sensed he would handle an interrogation the same way.
His disdain lapped against her. He didn’t say the exact words, but he didn’t have to. His actions spoke for him. He hated her.
Gone was the laid-back surfer dude laziness that hovered around him making the business suit seem all the more out of place. Blond, blue-eyed, with a scruff around his mouth and chin, he could play the lead role in any woman’s bad boy fantasies. But behind those rough good looks lurked a man serious and in charge, tense and ready for battle.
Well, he wasn’t the only one in the room fighting off a deep case of dislike. He needed to know she was not one of his frequent empty-headed bedmates. She could match his intellect and anger anytime, anywhere.
“Most of the information I need about you and your current predicament is in the newspaper,” she said.
“Most?”
She shrugged, letting him know he wasn’t the only one who could tweak a temper.
“More snooping, Ms. Armstrong?”
“I call it investigating.”
“Well, just so you know.” His back came off the wall, slow and in command. “Sneaking around in my personnel file isn’t the way to make me listen to you.”
“Then let’s try this.” She reached into her purse and grabbed her checkbook. “I want to hire you.”
“Don’t.”
She clicked the end of her pen. “Some money should get us started.”
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could start writing. “Trying to buy me off isn’t going to get you where you want to be.”
When she dropped her hand, he let go as if touching her one more second repulsed him.
“That’s not what I was doing.” It was, but she figured pointing that out would only make him less receptive to her plan to help Ryan.
“Sure felt like it.”
She skipped the crap and went right to her point. “Ryan didn’t do it.”
“Look, Ms. Armstrong. I get that this is a family issue.”
She refused to blubber or beg. She’d cried enough for ten lifetimes since the whole mess started. “Call me Deana.”
“We’re not friends or colleagues, so Ms. Armstrong is fine.” Josh took his pen out of his pocket and tapped it against his open palm. “And you may as well know I don’t really care what happens to Ryan from here on.”
She refused to believe Josh would be satisfied to let an innocent kid rot in prison. “You can’t really mean that.”
“I do. Trust me on this.”
“You think it’s okay to lock him away?”
“He had a trial.”
“Well, I don’t have the luxury of forgetting Ryan since I’m all he has at the moment.”
“I’m sorry about your brother and his wife.” Josh’s voice softened along with his bright aqua eyes.
She could not let her mind go there. Not now. She had to keep her focus directly on Ryan. It was either that or lose her control, and that was the one thing she could not afford to do in front of Josh. “Then help me.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean won’t.” Despite her attempts to stay calm her voice increased in volume as his decreased.
“We can use whichever word you prefer.”
“Why not?”
“Simple.”
“I have to tell you that I’ve found nothing simple in dealing with you so far.”
“Then try this: I’m out of the rescuing business.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s a fact.”
This was one brick wall she might not be able to work around. “I hardly believe you can turn it on and off like that.”
“I didn’t think so either.”
“And now?”
“I know I can.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Basically? Find another hero because I’m done playing the role.”