J. Ward - Dark Lover

Suddenly, there was a loud snapping sound.

And then he rolled onto the floor with her.

"What the f-" Butch lifted his left hand. And up came the wicker arm he'd taken hold of.

He'd ripped the side off the chair.

"You okay?" he said breathlessly, tossing the thing away.

"Oh, yes." She smiled up at him. Her dress was caught in his legs. And her body was tight against him. Almost where he needed it to be.

As he looked at her, he was ready for it all, ready to get under that dress, part her thighs with his hips, and bury himself in her heat until they were both totally lost.

Except in his current state, he was liable to take her hard, not make love to her properly. And he was crazed enough to do it here, on the porch, in the open.

So it was way time for a break.

"Let's get you off the floor," he said roughly.

Marissa moved faster than he did, practically springing to her feet. When she held her hand out to help him up, he took it to humor her. Only to find himself plucked from the floor as if he weighed no more than a newspaper.

He smiled as he brushed off his jacket. "You're stronger than you look."

She seemed embarrassed and took care to check her dress. "Not really."

"That's not a bad thing, Marissa."

Her eyes came back to his and then slowly drifted down his body.

With a shot of embarrassment, he realized his raging erection made a tent out of his pants. He turned away so he could rearrange himself.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He faced her, wondering if his pulse was ever going to slow down.

Man, he wasn't going to need a stress test anytime soon. If his heart could get through a kiss from her, he could probably run a marathon.

While dragging a car behind him.

Sideways to the road.

"I liked that," she said.

He had to laugh. "So did I. But it's hard to believe you're a vir-"

Butch slammed his mouth closed. Rubbed his thumb over his eyebrows.

No wonder he didn't date. He had the social skills of a chimp.

"Just so you know," he muttered, "I put my foot in it sometimes. But I'll work on this for you."

"Foot in it?"

"Blurt shit out. Stuff. I mean… Hell." He looked to the door. "Listen, how about we head down and see what's doing with the party?"

Because if he stayed up here one minute longer, he was going to be all over her.

"Butch?"

He glanced back at her. "Yeah, baby?"

Her eyes flashed, and she licked her lips. "I want more of you."

Butch stopped breathing. And wondered if she was thinking about his blood.

Looking into her beautiful face, he relived what it felt like to get pushed back into that chair. And he imagined that instead of kissing him, she was sinking those pearly white fangs of hers deep into his neck.

He could think of no better way to go than in her arms.

"Whatever you want of me," he murmured, "you can have."

Wrath watched as Billy Riddle walked out of the mansion and struck a pose against the columns in front. The guy put down a duffel bag and looked up at the sky.

"Perfect," Wrath said to Vishous. "Enough time to kill him and get back."

But before he and V stepped out of the shadows, a black Hummer came up the circular drive. As it passed them, the sweet smell of baby powder floated out one of its windows.

"You've got to be kidding me," Wrath murmured.

"That's a lesser , my brother."

"And what do you want to bet he's doing some recruiting?"

"Good candidate."

Billy hopped inside, and the SUV began to move.

"We should have taken my car," V hissed. "Then we could have followed them."

"There's no time for a trail. The Scribe Virgin's showing up at midnight. We do this now. Here."

Wrath leaped in front of the Hummer, planting his hands on the hood and pushing the SUV to a stop. He glared through the front windshield while Vishous approached from the lateral, sidling up to the driver's door.

Wrath smiled as the engine was put in park. Inside, he could detect both fear and anticipation. He knew which one was Billy Riddle's. The guy was edgy. The lesser , on the other hand, was ready to fight.

But there was something else. Something that didn't feel quite right.

Wrath quickly glanced around. "Watch yourself, V."

The roar of a car engine broke through the night, and the whole lot of them got blasted with headlights.

A nondescript American sedan heaved to a stop, and two men jumped out with guns drawn.

"State police. Put your hands up. You in the car. Get out."

Wrath watched the driver's-side door. What emerged was big and intense. And under the scent of baby powder, the lesser stank of evil.

As the society member lifted his hands, it stared at the insignia on Wrath's jacket. "My God. I thought you were a myth. The Blind King."

Wrath bared his fangs. "Nothing you've heard about me is a myth."

The lesser's eyes flashed. "I'm positively inspired."

"And I'm heartbroken that we gotta split now. But we'll be seeing you and that new recruit again. Soon."

Wrath nodded to Vishous, swept clean the memories of the humans, and dematerialized.

Mr. X was in awe.

The Blind King lived.

There had been stories circulating for centuries about him, legends really, but there hadn't been a confirmed sighting since Mr. X had joined the society. In fact, rumors had even abounded that the regal warrior had died, extrapolations based primarily on the disintegration of vampire society.

But no, the king was alive.

Good God . Now that would be a prize to lay at the Omega's altar.

"I told you he was coming," Billy was saying to the staties. "He's my martial-arts teacher. Why did you pull us over?"

The officers holstered their guns, focusing on Mr. X.

"May I see some identification, sir?" one of them asked.

Mr. X smiled and handed over his driver's license. "Billy and I are just going out for dinner. Maybe a movie."

The man studied the picture and then his face. "Mr. Xavier, here's your license back. Sorry for the inconvenience."

"Not a problem, Officer."

Mr. X and Billy got back into the Hummer.

Riddle cursed. "They're such idiots. Why did they stop us?"

Because we got jumped by two vampires , Mr. X thought. You just don't remember it, and neither do those two guys with the badges .

Tricky mind games. Tricky, tricky.

"What are the state police doing here?" Mr. X asked as he put the SUV in gear.

"My dad got another terrorist threat, and he's decided to leave D.C. for a little while. He's coming home tonight, and they'll be crawling all over the place until he goes back to the capital."

"Did you talk with your father?"

"Yeah. He actually seemed relieved."

"I'm sure he is."

Billy reached into his duffel bag. "I got what you said I needed."

He held up a wide-necked ceramic jar with a lid.

"That's good, Billy. Perfect size."

"What's going in it?"

Mr. X smiled. "You'll find out. Are you hungry?"

"Naw. Too pumped for food." Billy clapped his palms together and squeezed, flexing his muscles. "Just so you know, I don't crack easy. Whatever goes down tonight, I'll stay tight."

We'll just see about that , Mr. X thought as he headed for his house. They were going to do the ceremony in the barn, and the torture table was going to be a big help. He could tie Billy down easier that way.

As the city dissolved and the farm country eased up around the road, Mr. X found himself smiling.

The Blind King.

In Caldwell.

Mr. X glanced over at Riddle.

In Caldwell and looking for Billy.

Now why would that be?