Until that god-awful night when the neighboring vampire clan had come to seek vengeance.
Now . . . well, she’d obviously changed.
“What kind of leverage?” he found himself asking, accepting that for now Dara was in command.
“Let me consider.” Her eyes grew distant again, as if she were seeing beyond the cellar. “Yes,” she at last murmured.
“Dara?”
The dark gaze locked on him, sending a chill down his spine.
“You’ll need your medallion.”
Summerset House
Nefri glared at the piles of expensive boxes with fancy bows and silver tissue that were spread across the room. She felt her annoyance rising as each box was opened to reveal yet another slinky gown or scraps of lace that Santiago assured her were negligees. Clothing that ranged from the impractical to the ludicrous.
Standing across the room, Santiago pulled another box from the stack that had been delivered as soon as the sun had set.
Tossing off the lid, he pulled out a skirt that was barely long enough to cover her butt and sparkling with silver sequins. “What about this one?”
Her eyes narrowed at the amusement shimmering in his dark eyes. The male was taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in displaying one worthless garment after another.
“No,” she ground out.
He reached for a tube of stretchy silk that she assumed was intended to be worn as a dress. “This one?”
She shoved her hands in the pockets of the robe she’d found in the bathroom. Santiago was wearing a matching robe, although he’d left it open to reveal the hard perfection of his bronzed body.
A body she now knew with a delectable intimacy.
A blissful shiver ran through her as her gaze slid over the lean, beautiful features that were framed by the hair that was left to fall in a smooth river of ebony over his shoulders and down his back.
His smile widened, revealing a hint of fang as the air became perfumed with her stirring arousal.
She gave an impatient click of her tongue. They’d just spent the past ten hours sating their seemingly endless desire. How could she possibly be hungry for more?
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” she muttered in a futile effort to distract herself from the thought of tumbling him onto the nearby bed.
He flashed his fangs, dangling a minuscule thong from his index finger. “I’m enjoying the thought of you wearing this.”
Damn the gorgeous, utterly sexy vampire. How was she supposed to concentrate?
Wrenching her mind away from tiny undies, half-naked males, and a bed that seemed to be calling her name, Nefri instead waved a disgusted hand toward the piles of discarded clothing. “What’s the matter with the females?” she demanded. “None of these are sensible.”
He glanced down at the thong. “Perhaps they assumed you would want to dress to please your man, not to be sensible.”
She arched a brow. “Please my man?”
“Is that an unfamiliar phrase?”
With a concentrated burst of her power, she had the thong lying in tatters at Santiago’s feet.
“It’s a stupid phrase.”
Santiago tilted back his head to laugh with rich enjoyment. Then, stepping over the piles of boxes, he prowled forward. He halted directly in front of her, reaching to tug a strand of her hair.
“You’re just so easy, cara.”
“Careful,” she warned, even as her lips twitched.
He smoothed the strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle but possessive. Something that should have set her teeth on edge, not make her treacherous heart warm with pleasure.
“I’m sure the females were simply attempting to impress you with their exquisite taste and ability to offer the most expensive gowns,” he assured her.
“Yes, I know.” She wrinkled her nose, well aware she was overreacting. Unfortunately, the need to track down Gaius and whatever was controlling him was growing more urgent with every passing hour. It made her . . . tense. “And I appreciate their gifts, but I have no use for any of it.”
He glanced toward a red leather bustier that had come complete with a whip. “Not even—”
“Santiago.”
With a soft chuckle he bent down to press his lips to her forehead. “When will you learn you can depend on me?”“Depend on you for what?”
“Everything,” he assured her huskily before pulling back to regard her with a smug expression. “But in this particular case, I spoke with Gabriel last night and asked for him to find us suitable clothes to continue our journey.” He reached to grab a plain bag from the end of the bed. “Ta da.”
Reaching for the bag, Nefri pulled out several pairs of jeans, both male and female in various sizes, and two matching gray hoodies that would allow them to easily travel without attracting notice among the humans.
With a roll of her eyes, she tossed the clothes onto the mattress and stripped off her robe. “So all this was a waste of time?” She waved toward the clothes scattered across the floor.
His dark gaze made a slow, intimate survey of her slender curves. “Hardly a waste.”
“You are impossible,” she muttered, pulling on the jeans and the smaller hoodie before shoving her feet into the sneakers she’d been wearing when she arrived.
“Sí”, he readily agreed, his smile filled with a lethal charm as he dressed. “But what would you do without me?”
She paused. Without him.
A hollow pain bloomed in the center of her very being. The sort of pain a vampire could die from.
“I don’t intend to find out,” she said, her voice so low she wasn’t certain Santiago had heard her until he’d grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her hard against his chest.
He gazed down at her pale face, his expression somber. “Nefri . . .”
Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a sharp knock. For a minute, they stared at one another in silence, each unwilling to end the shockingly profound connection.
Then as there was another loud knock, Santiago was striding across the room, his curses filling the air. Yanking open the door, he glared at the handsome vampire who was attired in a gray tuxedo. “Dammit, Gabriel,” he growled in obvious annoyance. “What do you want?”
Unfazed by Santiago’s harsh tone, or the icy power that slammed through the air, Gabriel straightened the cuffs of his white, satin shirt. “There’s a”—he paused, a wicked amusement in his dark blue eyes—“creature downstairs who says that he’s your partner.”
Santiago scowled. Partner? What the hell?
“Levet,” Nefri murmured, coming to stand at his side.
Oh . . . hell. He’d forgotten the tiny gargoyle. Again. It had to be one of those Freudian things.
“A curious companion,” Gabriel said, clearly enjoying the thought of Santiago stuck with such a ridiculous creature.
“Don’t start,” Santiago cautioned his host.
Gabriel smiled. “He claims to have vital information that you must hear immediately.”
“Fine. Tell him to park his granite ass outside and we’ll be down to speak with him later.”
Gabriel shifted his gaze to Nefri, reaching to lift her hand to his lips. “My lady, I hope my humble establishment has been . . .”
“Yeah, yeah.” Santiago wrapped an arm around Nefri’s shoulder, firmly tugging her from Gabriel’s light grasp. “Go away.”
“Santiago,” Nefri chided softly. She understood he was an alpha vampire who felt the need to flex his muscles when another alpha was near, but she wasn’t a bone to be fought over. She had muscles of her own that could be flexed. “Thank you, Gabriel, for your most gracious hospitality.”
Gabriel flashed Santiago a condescending smile. “Manners are a lost art among the children, I fear.”
Santiago snorted, then deliberately slammed the door in Gabriel’s face.
Nefri shook her head. Males. “Do you feel better?”
His arm tightened around her shoulder and without warning he was swooping down to kiss her with a fierce intensity. She stiffened in surprise, then, sensing his need, she melted against him. This wasn’t about conquering her. Or even staking a claim.
It was an instinctive need to know she would willingly choose him above all others.
At last lifting his head, he regarded her with a brooding gaze. “Now I feel better.”
She went on her tiptoes to nip at his chin. “We need to find out what information Levet has.”
He grimaced. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to let him wait a few hours?”
She gave a shake of her head, that strange sense of urgency returning with a vengeance. “I don’t think we can afford to wait.”
His eyes darkened, as if he shared her sudden unease. “Oh . . . hell.”
Chapter 23
Styx’s lair in Chicago
To Sally the bedroom she’d been given looked like something out of a glossy magazine.
As big as her mother’s cottage, it was decorated in shades of sea foam green and silver. A massive fireplace consumed one wall with another wall lined with arched windows that overlooked a distant lake. The floor was covered by a Parisian carpet and the ceiling was covered with a painting of angels dancing among the clouds.