Shadow Rising (Dark Dynasties #3)

“I’m not her keeper,” Elena replied, her expression hardening when her eyes dropped to his mark. Ariane cursed inwardly. Despite Elena’s associations, Ariane was pretty sure she wouldn’t want a Shade in her apartment.

“I don’t need a keeper,” Ariane added, irritation blooming quickly to replace desire. Damien only glanced at her, moving toward the door.

“Yes,” he said with so much assurance she suddenly wanted to punch him, “you do. You’ll also need a hat or a wig.” He paused. “A good wig, if that’s what you decide. We’ll go over the rest tomorrow. For now, I have a few calls to make. I’ll be here at nine tomorrow. I expect you will be as well.”

Elena was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and hostility. “Careful with the orders, cat. You’re lucky I’m letting you stand there, considering what you are.”

His smile was faint. “Hypocrisy. Charming.” He looked pointedly at Ariane. “You really do have terrible taste in people. That can’t end well for you, you know.” With that cryptic and solemn statement, he crossed to the door, turned, and executed a small, aristocratic bow. His eyes, however, never left Ariane.

“Ladies,” he said. Then he was gone, vanishing out the door so quickly and silently that it took Ariane a moment to realize he’d gone.

“He wasn’t wearing a shirt,” Elena said. “Or shoes. And the pants looked questionable when I first walked in. Must have been some doctoring.”

Ariane thought about the shoes he’d neglected to pick up from the floor of her room and groaned inwardly. She’d been so preoccupied that she hadn’t even noticed his bare feet.

“It’s a long story,” she said wearily. And she discovered she wasn’t really in the mood to tell it. Still, she was compelled to add, “It’s not quite what you think.”

“Mmm,” Elena replied, tossing her keys onto the counter. “You do realize he’s one of the bad guys, right, Ari? He’s hot, I’ll give you that, but you hang around with Shades and you’re going to find a whole lot of trouble.”

“Do you know him?” Ariane asked, lifting a hand to rub at her temple.

Elena’s mouth thinned as she leaned against the breakfast bar. “Not really. I’ve seen him around once in a while. Kind of an asshole, isn’t he?”

The blunt assessment struck Ariane as funny, and she burst out laughing. “Yes. He is, mostly. But he has his moments.”

Elena smiled, but it held more than a hint of reproach. “Moments don’t make the whole package any better for you. I’d steer clear, Ari.” She shook her head. “You want to make yourself scarce tomorrow night, I’ll run him off.”

Ariane had no doubt Elena would. But it wasn’t what she wanted. “No, he’s helping me look for Sam,” she admitted. “Though I guess he thinks he’s letting me tag along while he looks for Sam.”

Elena snorted. “Typical male. You’ll have to show him up.”

“I already tried to cut off his head. It didn’t seem to make much of an impression.”

Then it was Elena’s turn to laugh. “With guys like him, it takes a lot more than trying to kill them to impress them. He’s got the arrogance thing down pat.” She wrinkled her nose. “He was probably some worthless aristocrat. Probably still bitter that he got bitten by a Cait Sith instead of a Ptolemy.”

Ariane frowned and looked away, giving voice to one of the biggest things that bothered her about Damien. “He doesn’t seem bitter. Actually, he doesn’t seem to care at all. About anything.”

“That’s a Shade, Ari. Being one requires having a healthy disregard for life, including your own.” She angled her head. “You sure you want to get involved with him?”

“I’m not… involved,” Ariane protested. “I need the help. I’m failing miserably on my own.”

Elena looked dubious as she moved to the couch, sat down, and took off her boots. “You could have asked me.”

Ariane stilled, surprised at the hint of hurt in Elena’s voice. “But you’ve done so much already,” she said. “How could I ask for more?”

Elena rolled her eyes, then smirked. “Only you would have an issue with asking for help from a friend, Ari. I have a job that comes with a lot of connections, remember? And in case you hadn’t noticed, I like you. I worry a good amount about you getting your ass kicked, so obviously I like you. You remind me of my little sister.”

Ariane settled herself in the chair opposite Elena, smiling. She was touched. If she’d had siblings, she didn’t remember them. Just like she didn’t remember any of her human life, whenever that had been. To be considered a sister to someone was new, and very sweet.

“You have a sister?” she asked.

“Had,” Elena said. “I don’t know many siblings who get eternity together. Not that it would have helped Maria. She was gone by the time I was turned.”

Her expression changed subtly, and Ariane saw that there was an ocean of pain beneath that single statement.

“I’m sorry.” It was all Ariane could think to say.

Elena shrugged uncomfortably. “Thanks. She was… innocent. Naive. Maria trusted everyone and died at the hands of a man who was supposed to protect her.”

“I truly am sorry,” Ariane offered quietly. It was inadequate, but all she had.

“I knew he wanted her. I just didn’t know how far he would go.” Elena’s eyes were dry but full of old sadness. “I couldn’t protect her then… but I can help to protect you now. Let me help, Ari. I’m no Shade, and I’ve got to stick around Charlotte for obvious reasons, but there are things I can do.”

“I’m not sure what more there is…” There would be no putting her off, though. Elena had collected herself quickly, and Ariane already knew that her friend was like a dog with an old bone when she got an idea.

“I’ll sniff around for you,” Elena said, leaning back. “I can at least find out if and where there have been Grigori around here in the last, what, six months or so?”

Ariane nodded, surprised again that Elena’s help was so easily offered, so easily given. Though now she had a much better idea about why.

“I can also get you some new, sharp, shiny goodies,” Elena said, casting a critical eye at the scimitar resting on the coffee table. “You’re not the only vamp who likes to roll with a sword, but I think we can get you hooked up with weapons that are a little less obvious. Weaponry is one of my specialties.”

Ariane stared at her in mute gratitude, reaching for something appropriate to say. As it happened, she could really think of only one, simple thing.

“Thank you,” she said. “Really.”

Elena deflected the sentiment with a casual wave of her hand, though her smile was genuine, making her eyes glow with pleasure.

“De nada. I had a feeling you’d liven things up around here if I kept an eye on you. Didn’t even take that long.”

“I don’t want you to put yourself in any danger for me,” Ariane said, voicing her one fear about Elena getting involved in any way, no matter how small. “I mean it. Because it looks like there’s going to be some. The Grigori are looking for me, and it seems Sam may have been taken, somehow, by one of our deserters.”

She briefly explained the situation, surprised at how good it felt to have a friend with whom to get things off her chest. Only now did she understand how sterile and detached her life had been among her own dynasty. There were cordial acquaintances, but few true friends. And yet in just a month out of the desert, she’d managed to find both a real friend and a man who saw her as desirable. She doubted Damien was capable of feeling much more than that for anyone, but still, it was real, hot desire.

She planned to savor every taste of this life she could, desire included. Particularly because she was now fully aware it could end at any moment, one way or another.

Elena listened quietly, seeming to process all the information, then nodded and rose, heading for the kitchen.

“Sounds like things are going to get interesting, then. But I’ve seen worse, Ari… I promise you that. This calls for a bottle of wine, I think. I’ll tell you about my shitty night cleaning up after two vamps who decided to go after one another’s arteries, and you can tell me all about this half-naked Shade I’m going to have to keep away from you.”

Ariane let out a shaky laugh as Elena poured each of them a glass of Pinot Grigio. Her body was still humming faintly from Damien’s touch, and the taste of him, dark and decadent, lingered on her lips.

She felt a little like a disaster. But Ariane also felt a surprising amount of relief.

“Sounds perfect,” she said, and decided that, just for tonight, she could enjoy the fact that she wasn’t alone.

Not anymore.

Chapter Eight

HE NEEDED to get his head on straight.

Damien sat on the edge of the hotel’s roof, looking out over the city. He’d showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, and his hair was still damp, slicked back against his head. Impossibly, Ariane’s scent still clung to him, wrapped around him as surely as the woman herself had been. She was night in an English garden. She was poetry in darkness, a winged vision of—

“Oh, for God’s sake, this is pathetic,” he muttered, swinging one leg absently and shifting his gaze to watch a plane coming in, the lights twinkling in the distance. He needed to work, not to get caught up in some pointless infatuation. Even as a youth, he hadn’t succumbed to things like this. He’d simply bedded every passably attractive maid in his father’s house and then moved on.

But Ariane was different. And it wasn’t just because of those freakish, yet rather lovely wings of hers. Gods, he couldn’t wait to hear what Drake had to say about that. Later. He wasn’t quite ready to share Ariane with anyone just yet.