Jeaniene Frost - Eternal Kiss of Darkness

“That’s exactly what I’ll say. Whatever you are, whatever they were, I don’t want to know about it. I just want to forget about it.”

A frown creased his features. “Impossible,” he muttered. His eyes brightened even more. “Nothing happened this morning. You walked home, you went to bed . . .”

“Got it,” Kira said, blinking. Looking into his eyes was like staring into two green spotlights.

He was on the other side of the room before her next blink, looking at her with the same wary speculation she’d bestowed on him before.

“You are immune to my power.” A short laugh came from him. “This is a memorable day, indeed. Perhaps it’s because I gave you my blood to heal you. That could interfere with my mesmerizing you now. Once you get it out of your system, you will be susceptible again.”

That didn’t sound good. It sounded lengthy, like she wasn’t getting away anytime soon, and things were forming a connection in her mind. Blood. Mesmerizing. Fangs. Flying . Only one creature had all those in common, but this stranger couldn’t really be a vampire, could he?

“I might remember what happened this morning, but you can bet I won’t tell anyone,” Kira said quietly. “You don’t have to wait for anything to clear out of my system. I’ll go home and won’t say a word about you, that warehouse, or anything else that isn’t completely normal.”

He stared at her, darkness replacing the green in his gaze. Then, very slowly, he shook his head.

“At this moment, you may believe that, but I cannot take the risk that you will change your mind later.”

The sound of the door shutting was the only indicator that he’d moved. Kira ran to it, but though the knob turned, and she shoved against it, she couldn’t open the door. Something very heavy must be on the other side of it.

How was she supposed to get away from him when he moved so impossibly fast? Once again, the word “vampire” jumped into her mind. With all the other traits she’d seen, it seemed to be the frontrunner for what her kidnapper was. Then again, weren’t vampires supposed to catch fire in the sunlight? He hadn’t. The sun had been out when he’d carried her from the warehouse, yet her kidnapper hadn’t suffered any ill effects. Plus, she had on a cross necklace, but that hadn’t stopped him from carting her over half of Chicago’s rooftops this morning, either. That shot a big hole in her “vampire” theory.

Some part of Kira couldn’t believe she was contemplating what sort of supernatural creature he could be. None of those things were supposed to exist, let alone kidnap her! Disbelief battled with the memory of everything she’d seen. Even if she wanted to believe that her long night without sleep had made her see things that weren’t real, her blood-smeared, perfectly healed stomach was a reminder that her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. She hadn’t imagined the agony of her flesh being ripped open, either. Or the coldness that had seeped through every pore, the sense of fading away . . . and then the abrupt yank back to life just in time to see her dark-haired captor ripping the heads off several people when his hands hadn’t even been near them.

It didn’t matter what he was, Kira decided. The most important thing was getting away from him. She began to prowl around the bedroom, ignoring its lavish furnishings. No phone that she could see. An attached bathroom loaded with all the amenities, none of them useful for escape purposes. No computer. She went over to the window and stared out in frustration. Of course she’d be a few stories up without a balcony or trellis. She supposed she should be grateful that there didn’t appear to be a moat around the property, or wolves baying around the perimeter. Was she still in Chicago? Or, when she’d been unconscious, had he managed to take her much farther away?

Kira sank onto the bed, fingering the fabric of the comforter. Frank probably wouldn’t even notice she was missing until later tonight. Her boss knew she’d pulled an all-night stakeout; he’d expect her to sleep late today. Tina also wouldn’t attempt to call her until later, and if Kira didn’t answer, her sister would just assume she was working. Her only hope was that her kidnapper had left her backpack at the warehouse. The police would definitely investigate her whereabouts if they found her belongings at the scene of a grisly multiple homicide. Had he taken it with him when he grabbed her? She couldn’t remember. Her backpack wasn’t in this bedroom, that was all she knew.

Kira fisted the comforter, wanting to shred it out of frustration, but with its thick smoothness, it was probably a thousand-thread count and thus stronger than rope. All she’d do if she tore at it was break several fingernails.

All at once, Kira began to smile. Improvisation is a necessary part of the job, Frank had told her when training her to work as a P.I. He’d been right about that.

Kira went into the bathroom, dragging the comforter behind her.

Mencheres closed his eyes as he swallowed. Warm flesh pressed to his mouth, a sweet pulse vibrating underneath his lips. A haze of pleasurable thoughts blanketed his mind as he lightly dug his fangs in again, but they weren’t his thoughts. They belonged to Selene, the human he fed from.

Yes, bite me again. Deeper. Ah, so good, don’t stop . . .

Selene shuddered with an ecstasy Mencheres hadn’t felt in centuries. He drew back after his next swallow, closing the punctures from his fangs with a drop of his blood while the bliss he’d so briefly felt turned to ashes.

Selene’s passion was only due to the skillful way he’d bitten her, combined with the mild euphoria-inducing venom all vampires had in their fangs. He’d be able to give her mind-shattering orgasms with his bite, if he wished to, but any vampire could rouse the same sensations in her. If there was one thing Mencheres’s long years had taught him, it was that being an instrument of pleasure wasn’t the same as being truly desired.

Once he would have scoffed at that. When he was a human ruler in Egypt, it was considered an honor to share his bed, and Mencheres had welcomed many there. When he became a vampire, men and women flocked to him in the hopes that he’d transform them into vampires. Later, his power drew those looking for protection. Over time, being his lover was a status symbol among vampires. Even if Mencheres lived among humans, hiding what he was, his wealth seduced people to his side. After living that way for twenty-five hundred years, even the most sensual enjoyments began to feel hollow. Mencheres wanted more.

He thought he’d found it in Patra, the young Egyptian queen he married two thousand years ago, but that had ended in disaster. Back then, he’d been naïve enough to believe he could sate Patra’s need for power by changing her into a vampire, sharing his vast wealth, and teaching her the deepest, most forbidden secrets of his race, but it hadn’t been enough. Nothing he’d done had been enough, and a long-ago sin resulted in Patra nearly destroying everyone Mencheres cared about until she’d finally been killed last year. As depressing as the thought was, everyone in his life had been drawn to him for an ulterior motive, even those he trusted. Even those he loved.

Oddly enough, the only exception was the human locked upstairs in the bedroom. Kira had tried to save him, acting without the influence of his heritage, status, power, wealth, or charisma. She’d risked her life without expecting a single thing in return. No one had done such a thing for him. Ever.

As a result of Kira’s baffling, selfless act, combined with his inability to control her mind or hear her thoughts, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Even as the day slipped into evening and he sent another vampire to deliver food and refreshment to her room, Mencheres couldn’t banish her from his thoughts.