The soul-stealing beauty of his lean face. The broad chest left bare to reveal the smooth bronzed skin and rippling muscles. The flat stomach and long thrust of his legs half covered by the loose khaki shorts.

And above all the raw, potent sexuality he wielded like a lethal weapon.

For a mindless moment, she became lost in the wicked honey temptation of his eyes, her body instinctively arching toward his teasing touch.

Then, as his lips parted to reveal his fully extended fangs, she was jerked to her senses.

“You son of a bitch.” With a hiss of outrage she slammed her hands against his chest. “Get away from me.”

With infuriating ease, he shrugged off her blow and rolled to pin her to the wooden planks of the hayloft, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

“You didn’t really think you could outrun me, did you, sweet Laylah?”

She silently cursed the scalding pleasure as he pressed against her, the intimate position revealing he wasn’t indifferent to her proximity.

Gods. Her mouth went dry at the feel of his large and fully aroused cock pressed against her inner thigh. If he became any less indifferent she might faint.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” she muttered.

His head lowered to scrape his fangs along the curve of her neck.

“Why do you think?” he demanded, his tongue brushing the frantic pulse that beat at the base of her throat.

Her eyes flashed with fury even as a violent shudder of awareness wracked her body.

“Dammit, I’ve been polluting the world for the past two hundred years without the sky falling or the gates of hell opening.” Her fingernails bit into his chest as his seeking lips skimmed over her collarbone, her toes curling at the tiny jolts of lust. “Is it really that important to turn me over to the Commission?”

He chuckled, his hands skimming up the curve of her waist, heading ever higher.

“You underestimate your charms if you believe the only reason a man would chase you is to turn you over to someone else.”

“Tane.” She sucked in a sharp breath as his hands cupped the mounds of her breasts. Oh … yum. His thumb brushed the tip of her nipple, teasing it to a pleading peak. She wanted to yank down his head and devour his sexy lips. She wanted to reach between their bodies and take command of that hard length of him and stroke him until he was begging for release. She wanted to guide him into her body and ease the aching need that had plagued her since the damned vampire had cornered her in the cave. Instead she grit her teeth, and reminded herself that this demon was not only a threat to her, but the child she had sworn to protect. “You’d better watch where you put those hands if you want to keep them.”

He lifted his head to regard her with a brooding gaze. “Would you rather I put them here?” His dark voice slid over her skin like cool satin, his fingers lingering on her nipples before gliding down her stomach. “Or here?” he husked, the honey eyes shimmering with sinful intent as he tugged at the button fly of her jean shorts. “Or maybe here?”

Exactly there. Her hips were already lifting in silent invitation when Laylah came to her senses. “Keep that up and I’ll zap you,” she snapped. “Do you promise?”

She reached down to slap his hand from her shorts. If he managed to get her naked there would be no halting the inevitable.

It might embarrass the hell out of her, but Tane managed to stir needs she didn’t even know she possessed.

“Don’t think I won’t fry your ass,” she warned. “You saw what I did to Duncan.”

“You said that was an accident.”

“Accident or not, bad things happen when people piss me off.”

“Which must mean that good things happen when people please you.” He lowered his head to lick her beaded nipple through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. “And I promise I can please you. Over and over and over.”

“Gods.” She squeezed her eyes shut as the sense of an impending lightning strike gathered in the pit of her gut. Her powers had never been stimulated during sex. But then again, she’d never been so aroused. Not even during the actual act. A flare of panic squeezed her heart and grasping his mohawk, she yanked his head up to meet her frantic gaze. “Stop it.”

His eyes smoldered with heat, his fangs shimmering in the faint moonlight that slanted through a hole in the tin roof.

“Spring rain.”

“What?”

“You smell of spring rain.” “Why are you doing this?”

He shifted so his erection pressed directly against her most tender spot. She choked back a groan as she nearly came from the mere contact.

“I’m trying to demonstrate,” he murmured.

“I’m a Jinn mongrel.”

His gaze swept over her half naked body, deliberately allowing his lust to blast through the air. “You’re exquisite.” “Tane.”

He lowered his head to whisper directly in her ear. “You should know better than to run from a predator.”

It was the shiver of longing, as much as his patronizing tone, that made her release a trickle of her pent-up powers, causing Tane to jerk back with satisfying swiftness.

“Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking I’m some sort of helpless prey,” she snapped.

He sprawled on the loose hay, a taunting smile curving his lips as she scrambled to her feet.

“Helpless? Never. But prey …” He ran a slow, thorough appraisal down her tense body, his tongue stroking his massive fang. “Shall I discover if you taste as sweet as you smell?”

She lifted a warning hand. She should just zap his ass as she had promised. Unfortunately when she tried to do more than release the smallest trickle of energy, she never knew if she was going to create a bolt of lightning or a tornado or an earthquake or some other wholesale destruction that could wipe out an entire town.

“No.”

With the liquid grace only a master vampire could claim, Tane was on his feet, prowling toward her. “You’re sure?”


“Back off, He-man,” she warned, her outstretched hand clenching as he continued forward. “I’m not kidding. Come near me and I’ll hurt you.”

He halted, but before she could be stupid enough to think he was frightened by her threat, he folded his arms over his muscular chest.

“Where’s the child?”

She flinched at the abrupt question, a stab of self-disgust slicing through her heart.

Was that the reason for the sexy vampire routine?

Did he suspect the child she was hiding was another Jinn mongrel who he needed to drag from his hiding place and turn over to the Oracles? Or was it just his attempt to satisfy his twisted curiosity before he was at last rid of her?

Whatever the reason, the thought of her ready response to his touch made her want to split open the earth and stuff him in the bowels of hell.

“You have a creepy obsession with this mythical child.” She forced a mocking smile. “Do you eat babies for breakfast or something?”

He tilted back his head, testing the air with his superior senses.

“I can’t believe that you left it behind. Not after your panic to rescue it from Caine’s lair.”

“It? A baby, mythical or not, is not an it.”

He ignored the dangerous edge in her voice. “But, it’s not here. Unless you’ve hidden it with a spell.” Without warning he’d stepped forward and grabbed her upper arms. “Are you a witch?”

She glared into the too-handsome face. “If I were a witch you’d already be turned into a newt and stuck in a jar.”

“Be careful, Laylah. A vampire has no tolerance for magic.”

“And I have no tolerance for interfering vampires.” She jerked away from his hands. “We’re done.”

He allowed her to back away, but that didn’t ease her sudden jitters as he stood in the center of the loft, the moonlight sliding with sinuous beauty over his grim features and broad chest.

He didn’t need the large dagger stuck in the waistband of his khaki shorts or the pearly white fangs to make him dangerous.

It oozed from every pore.

“Are you a witch?”

She instinctively backed away, not halting until she hit a stack of hay bales.

“No.”

He moved until he was crowding her, his eyes narrowed as he sensed her lie.

“You have no magical abilities?”

“The charm of my personality.”

His slender fingers stroked down her throat. A subtle threat.

“Tell me.”

“I …” She halted. Gods, she’d gone as cowardly as a snallus demon. Reclaiming her spine, she shot him a furious glare. “I have a few skills, but I’m not a witch.”

“Explain.”

“Bossy. Arrogant. Ass.” “Laylah.”

Her hands curled into fists. Dammit. The vampire wasn’t going to let this go until he had an answer. Of course, there wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to give him the truth.

He might just decide she was worth more on the black market than he could get from the Commission.

“My foster mother was a witch, but she claimed the magic she could sense in me was dormant,” she bit out. “It didn’t matter how often I tried to conjure spells, I was hopeless.”

“So what is your magic?” he pressed, obviously convinced she was hiding some major magical mojo. If only.

“You’ve seen.” She shrugged. “I can manipulate nature …”

“No, those are the powers of a Jinn,” he ruthlessly overrode her. “What magic do you possess?”

Like a gift from heaven (or more likely hell) the doors to the barn were abruptly shoved open and a tiny gargoyle stepped into view, a frown on his ugly features as he glanced toward the hayloft.

“There you are.” His wings twitched, his tone petulant. “Really, ma cherie, I shall begin to suspect that you are attempting to avoid me.”

Ignoring Tane’s muttered opinion of interfering gargoyles and the pleasure of chopping them into tiny bits of stone, Laylah moved to jump from the hayloft, landing lightly in front of her savior.

“I promise, Levet, you’re not the one I’ve been trying to avoid.” She deliberately glanced toward Tane as he landed beside her, his expression grim.

The gargoyle grimaced. “Ah well, that is perfectly understandable.”

Sublimely indifferent to the insults, Tane circled behind the demon, peering out the door as if expecting to discover Levet had brought along a horde of ravaging zombies.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“Your fearless leader is concerned that he has not heard from his pet Charon.”



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