A Vampire's Honor (29 page)

He opened the lid, and my eyes were dazzled by a necklace of brilliant black opals, each stone striated with bands of bright red and brilliant green. Just like his eyes. I stared down at them for a few moments, admiring their beauty, and then my eye caught the red diamond solitaire I wore on the third finger of my left hand. I felt steel bolting itself to my spine as resolve coursed through me. This wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. I had twenty-five years to find a way to fix my monumental screw-up. And I would find a way . . . or die trying.

I put out my hand and closed the lid on the opals. “It's beautiful, but you can take it back. I don't want it now, not twenty-five years from now, not ever.”

“Now or later makes no difference,” he said, “but you will wear them the first time you lie in my bed.”

“What happens if Gabriel doesn't sleep with her?” I asked, refusing to discuss his desires any further.

“Then she dies,” he said coldly.

“And if he does sleep with her?” It had never been so hard to keep my voice level, to pretend that inside I wasn't dying just thinking about this.

“With her virginity gone, the protection can be renewed or revoked by either of them. Whatever the choice, it will be lifelong and irreversible.”

“But this is the only time he would have to have sex with her?”

“The price is her virginity, Rowan.”

“Yeah . . . right.”

He stood up suddenly and turned his head to the big picture windows that lined one wall. I loved the view they offered of the city, especially at night with all the lights twinkling. Now a light breeze made the floor-to-ceiling sheer curtains move like a graceful dancer, and I thought of the mess I'd made of things.

Except I hadn't done it all by myself.

“It was you, wasn't it?”

“What was?” he challenged arrogantly.

“You're the one who told Laycee she could ask Gabriel for his protection. Somehow you put the idea in her mind.”

He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. I knew it was true, and his raised brow was all the affirmation I needed.

“One of the things I love about humans is how open they are to the power of suggestion, as long as it is put to them in just the right way.” He looked exceedingly pleased with himself.

“You're one smug bastard, you know that?” I snapped bitterly. The pale blue Tiffany box was now on the table. I picked it up and threw it at him. He caught it with one hand. “Allow me to make a suggestion—get the fuck out of here!”

He laughed at my temper. “This conversation between us is not over.”

“Yeah, it is,” I said, suddenly feeling more tired than I could ever remember feeling. “There's nothing more to discuss.”

My demon tilted his head slightly, giving me a questionable look as if he was certain my brain was cooking up some unimaginable ruse to use on him. I only wish. He headed for the kitchen.

“No,” I said, my voice stopping him. “You can use the front door like everyone else.” The idea that the space between the fridge and wall was a doorway to the Dark Realm was more than a little unsettling.

“It's only a shadow, Rowan.” He grinned, reading my concern and flashing those impossibly white teeth at me. “I can use any shadow to go anywhere.”

“Yeah, well, go find a shadow out in the hall.” I got up and marched to the door, unlocked the dead bolt, and pulled it open.

He sighed and stood next to the open door, looking down at me. “And so it begins.”

“What?”

“The first of many concessions I am willing to make for you.”

“I don't want you to do anything for me.”

“Are you sure? Is there nothing I can give you? Something Gabriel can't . . . or won't?” The last he added in a tease.

His words pricked a bubble inside my head. “Yeah, you can tell me your name.”

That startled him. Something he hadn't expected. Foolish demon, trying to ply me with baubles. Okay, very expensive and very beautiful baubles, but so very much the wrong kind of enticement. Did I look like a gal who shopped at Tiffany's?

“What's wrong? Worried I won't be able to pronounce it?” I challenged. “Come on now, don't be embarrassed. I promise not to laugh even if it is something off the wall like Algernon or Cuthbert.”

His eyes glittered strangely as he leaned down, putting his face so close to mine I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. “The whisper of my name on your lips would be a promise of unimaginable pleasure.”

“Then why not tell me?” I repeated, not swayed by his flattery.

“Because then you would have a power over me that few possess.”

“So I take it that's a no then,” I said, hushing my inner bitch.

“I'll tell you my name,” he promised, “when I'm buried so deep inside you, you can't tell where you end and I begin.”

He suddenly grabbed my shoulders and ran his tongue down the side of my neck, leaving behind the faint scent of anise on my skin, before releasing me and walking out the door. It took me a full minute before I could move again. It doesn't sound like much, but those sixty seconds were the longest of my life.

My hand was shaking as I slid the dead bolt home, and I leaned against the door as I waited for my breath to stop coming in sharp gasps. I was shaky and wanted nothing more than to take a very long, very hot shower so I could wash the smell of him from me. Perhaps I should go back to the hotel and actually spend the night there. Being surrounded by so many people might not be such a bad idea.

That may be, but I didn't think the worst was anywhere near over. I had an awful feeling it was still to come. I stared at the coffee table. The Tiffany box was still there. The bastard had left it behind. Deliberately. What did he think I was going to do? Prance around in my undies wearing it when I thought no one was looking? If I believed anything about my demon to be true, it was that the Dark Realm was always looking.

But I refused to allow that to affect how I lived my life. If I did, then he'd already won.

I would go to the bank in the morning and rent a safe-deposit box for the necklace. I wasn't about to leave it lying around, and there was no way in hell it was going in the vault at the penthouse. Wearily I slipped off my shoes and heard a knock at the door. Maybe my no-name demon had decided to take back my supposed wedding-night trinket. Better it was with him than in some bank vault. I picked up the jeweler's case and opened the door, only to have the pale blue box slip from my fingers when I saw who was standing before me.

He looked terrible. He looked worse than terrible. His coat was missing a sleeve, and was torn and covered in what looked like oil stains, suggesting he'd either been dragged behind a vehicle or run over by one. Possibly both—it was hard to say. The skin had been scraped off his forehead, and there was a massive contusion on one cheek. His left eye was nothing but a ball of blood, while the other was swollen shut, the surrounding skin a frightening shade of purple. Dried blood caked his nose, and from the odd angle I guessed it was broken. His lower lip was split open, and I wasn't sure, but I think he was missing an ear.

I felt tears spilling down my face, and his image blurred as I stared at him. I couldn't begin to understand how he'd found the strength to drag himself to my door, or the willpower that was keeping him upright. His hands were swollen, fingers broken, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but the worst had to be his skin. It was gray, an unhealthy pallor that told me he had lost too much blood. More than his body could tolerate. He needed to feed, and soon. In fact, I wasn't sure he would make it through the next hour if he didn't.

There is a cardinal rule about not feeding one vampire when you are bonded to another, but I couldn't think about that right now. I wasn't about to have his death on my conscience. It would be more than I could bear. I pulled my hair away and exposed my skin, feeling the vein throb in my neck and the blood rush through me. There came a familiar click as he dropped his fangs, and the enormity of what I was about to do suddenly filled me.

Yeah, I was all that and more. Guilty of obeying my heart more than my head. And this was going to be no exception.

No one had visited me in my new apartment, so an invitation to cross the threshold was necessary, and I gladly gave him one. Even though he was weak, I still wasn't able to support his weight. I fell backward, and he followed, his damaged hand cradling the back of my head protectively. Fangs punched through my flesh, and I felt his body tremble with shock and fear and gratitude. I couldn't begin to imagine what he had been through, or what would happen to both of us when it was known that I'd allowed him to feed from me. That was for later. All I could do right now was make sure Aleksei didn't die.

Rowan Harper sacrificed her blood and her soul to keep her friend, Aleksei, alive—and in the process, broke a bond of sacred trust with her lover, Gabriel.

 

But her act of heroism wasn't enough to stop the evil bent on tearing the world asunder. Newly turned vampires are slaughtering innocents, and those lurking in the darkness are threatening the people Rowan loves.

 

She may be Gabriel's Promise, but it's looking more and more like Rowan will belong to the demon of the Dark Realm instead. Time is of the essence and with her soul already tainted, will Rowan be forced to break the ties she's forged with Gabriel? Which of the two rivals will stand beside her as she faces the end of the world?

 

 

 

Carla Susan Smith
owes her love of literature to her mother, who, after catching her pre-teen daughter reading by flashlight beneath the bed covers, calmly replaced the romance book she had “borrowed” with one that was far less risqué, and much more appropriate! Though she was encouraged to include different genres in her reading tastes, romance—paranormal romance in particular—has always been her first love.

 

Born and raised in England, she now calls South Carolina home, where she lives with her wonderfully supportive husband, awesome son, and a canine critique group (if tails aren't wagging then the story isn't working!). When not writing, she can usually be found in the kitchen trying out any recipe that calls for rhubarb, working on her latest tapestry project or playing catch-up with her reading list. Please visit her at
www.CarlaSmithauthor.com
.

Rowan Harper is nothing but a smart-mouthed bookstore clerk with a crappy love life on the night she walks into Rosie's Bar. Most of the drama in her life is borrowed from her best friend's adventures. But when she meets Gabriel—tall and movie star gorgeous—everything changes. Never mind that she turns down the drink he offers, or that he brims with secrets she can't begin to guess at. He ignites a desire in her she never suspected—and shows a fascination with her she can't explain.

 

He has no family, no job, no bank account; he knows where she lives and her favorite flower. An aura of mystery cloaks him, even as Rowan grasps for facts, even as she fears an answer that could destroy her happiness. Gabriel can guide her through a wonderland of new sensations. But only if Rowan trusts him enough to follow . . .

 

 

Visit us at
www.kensingtonbooks.com