Broken Vow (10 page)

* * *

Sonya was pregnant. Dante could scarcely believe his eyes when he found the positive pregnancy test she left on the counter at his place. He called her multiple times that night, but she never returned his calls.

He followed her scent to Seattle, wondering why she went there. He wouldn't let her raise their baby alone. He couldn't. They’d find a way to make it work. They had to. Couldn't they be together and just not have sex?

He smirked at this. What a joke that was. They’d never be capable of abstinence as long as they were within arm’s length of each other. It didn't matter, though. He needed to get her back. She was the only woman he'd ever loved and she was carrying his child. No way in hell was he letting her get away.

Once in Seattle, he followed her to a mansion just outside the city. A house he was all too familiar with. It was the residence of his former business partner, Drakkar. They had owned a sex club together in Seattle called
Ane Rouge.

Dante's first partner, a lion shifter ran it with him originally, but once the were-lion got married and moved to Portland, Oregon, Dante was left to run it by himself.

His old friend, Drakkar, came into the scene and helped him run the place, but without his former partner's conscience to guide him, Dante had gone on a killing rampage in Seattle. He and Drakkar had turned
Ane Rouge
into a sort of demonic sexual paradise. Out went the safe, sane and consensual motto and in walked a creed that mandated only one thing: unspeakable pleasure. Nothing else mattered once members set foot in that club. The former human members had either been pinched off by vampires or turned into the sex slaves of various demons.

Then a witch cast a spell on Dante and he got a soul. The lawless sexual perversion of the club bothered him then. He couldn't bring himself to condone the captivity and oppression of human beings any longer. Nor could he drink their blood without feeling guilty afterward. That was when he turned to animal blood, though the taste was certainly inferior.

Drakkar had been disgusted by Dante's new-found humanity and banished him from
Ane Rouge.
Dante had moved to Portland after that. Then he met Sonya.

Now she stood outside Drakkar's mansion and rang the melodious doorbell. What the hell was she doing here?

The butler, Alfred, answered the door.

Dante crept closer from his hiding place behind the hedge so he could hear what Sonya said.

“I'm here to meet, Drakkar. I'm responding to his ad in the personal column.”

“Oh, come in, my dear.” Alfred closed the door once she entered.

Dante's mouth hung open and if his dormant heart were still beating it would’ve shattered at her unfeeling words. She broke up with him last night and now she was going to another man's house. Worse, she said she responded to his ad in a personal column, which meant she'd been corresponding with Drakkar while she was still seeing Dante.

Drakkar was bound to throw her out once he realized Sonya was a crusnik. She hadn't been able to tell that Dante was a vampire, but his lycan genes likely masked his undead scent. That and he could set foot in sunlight because he was part werewolf. No wonder the poor woman had been fooled by him.

Well, Sonya was in for a surprise when she discovered that Drakkar was a vampire too. Then again, he wasn't a typical sanguinary vamp. He was one of the more advanced ones that could shift into a bat or a wolf whenever he wanted to. He might even have some other type of demonic heritage in him as well. Dante couldn't detect it, though oddly enough. Perhaps Drakkar had a natural defense against Dante's gift of discerning different species.

Dante walked away. His aching heart felt heavy in his chest. Sonya would be obligated to kill the vampire if she discovered what Drakkar was. On the other hand, only two black angels had ever been killed in history and Drakkar had been the one to kill them. He knew how to slay them where others didn't. For the right price he'd divulge the information to any demon willing to pay it.

Dante felt a wave of raw panic at the thought of Drakkar hurting Sonya. He should go save her. His jaw clenched and his fists tightened. Let him hurt her. It would serve the bitch right for betraying him. The werewolf in Dante was appalled at his flippant willingness to subject her to harm out of revenge, but the demon in him wanted to hurt her for leaving him. That demon with no name wanted to see her join her body to Drakkar and watch them fuck each other into a sweaty, writhing mess. Aramis was devastated by the idea.

Then again, Dante sometimes had a hard time distinguishing between the two creatures trapped inside of him. Hell, some of his actions weren't even dictated by the wolf or the demon. At times he acted in accordance with the propensities of the once-living man whose shell they both dwelt in.

But in this moment with Sonya walking into a devil's lair and the way Dante simply walked away, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the demon inside of him was responsible for that decision. Somehow his desire to hurt Sonya overrode the soul that normally dictated his good behavior since he acquired it. She needed to learn a lesson and he needed a drink.

* * *

Sonya had been given orders from Blade to find a way to get close to Drakkar. The vampire had killed two black angels and it was feared he would slay more, or pass the news on to other demons. Blade showed her an ad Drakkar put out the day before in the personal column and told her to answer it.

Now here she was in his house with orders to strike him down. Shouldn't be too hard considering she'd slain plenty of vampires before.

The house was quite lavish and while it was obvious the vampire had money, the place was decorated in a style of tasteful wealth rather than gaudy show, the gargoyles at the bottom of the winding staircase on either side being the only exception.

“You must be Sonya,” a deep, masculine voice greeted her from behind as the sound of footsteps made contact with the black and while tiled floor.

Sonya turned and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw him. Good lord, the man was huge. She thought Dante was muscular, but this man's arms were the size of large trees. They were impressive, but while she delighted in big, strong men, his naturally massive cannons were a bit large for her taste. He had tattoos on his biceps and his bald head had a thin mat of black hair that had been buzzed off.

“Are you Drakkar?” she asked.

He flashed her his pearly whites as he swept her head to toe with a licentious gaze and licked his lips. “Yeah. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

She shook his dinner-plate sized hand, feeling like a bug next to him. She was only five feet, four inches and this monument of muscle towered over her at six foot four. His skin was a light brown and his black eyes were intense and slightly invasive.

“You downplayed your description,” he told her. “You're absolutely stunning.”

The compliment brought a smile to her lips. He didn't look like Dante, but Drakkar was brawny, handsome, bald and tattooed like him. Her heart ached and she had to push him from her mind to focus. “Thank you.”

“Come into the study with me and we'll do your interview.”

Blade had told her there would be an interview, but Drakkar would expect her to be ignorant on the matter. “My interview?”

“Yeah, I'm interviewing women to find a suitable candidate to pose as my girlfriend.” He opened the door to his study for her.

She just barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Oh, he was charming, wasn't he? Freaking pill of a man.

He closed the door behind them, looking as though he wanted to devour her now that they were alone. “And you dressed slutty like I told you to. Good girl. You win brownie points for that.”

His arrogance made her want to step on him with her high heels, but she simply gave him a coquettish smile.

Drakkar sat down and pulled out a piece of paper, presumably his list of questions. Sonya knew what they would be. Apparently one of the black angels spied on Drakkar yesterday through an open window when he interviewed a human woman and overheard the interview.

Drakkar's questions would make any lady blush and any feminist slug him in the face. Questions like: “Are you a slut? Will you take your clothes off for anybody? Do you like three-ways? Are you any good in bed? Do you look good naked? Take your clothes off so I can decide for myself. Eh, not bad, but I'll keep looking. Thank you for your time.”

Needless to say he got slapped after the interview and the woman walked out. She was lucky Drakkar hadn't been hungry then.

The black angels elected Sonya to be the one to go on this mission because her copper skin gave her a foreign, exotic look, which was apparently Drakkar's preference when it came to women, though she'd been told he'd fucked a good many different types of women.

She wore an olive-green, spaghetti-strap dress that fell to just above her knees. The dress revealed her plump, copper arms and toned legs beautifully. The deep cleavage of her full, perky breasts were revealed unabashed by her low-cut neckline. Her gold, open-toed high heels offset it nicely and she'd done her makeup to make her dark brown eyes sparkle. Her short black hair was straight and choppy, framing her soft, round face.

Drakkar glanced down at his paper and then pinned his eyes to hers. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. The black T-shirt hugged his biceps like it was going out of style. “What's your bra size?”

Sonya blinked, becoming irritated with the uncouth swine. That hadn't been one of the interview questions. She certainly had no intention of telling him. “I'll let you figure that out when you hold my breasts.”

Judging by the hedonistic gleam in his midnight eyes, she knew she had him.

“I like your confidence,” he praised. “Are you a slut?”

Sonya gave him a flirty smile, crossing her leg so more of it showed. “The worst kind. I'm bisexual.”

Drakkar grinned at this. “Keep that up and you just might get to be my girlfriend.”

She needed to sweeten the deal. If she got him distracted with the promise of illicit sex, he just might let down his guard and then she would make her move and kill him. She leaned forward so her breasts spilled out more. “What if I don't want to commit? What if I just want to use your manly bod for one night?”

He became tense with wantonness and she sensed the primal energy radiating from his dark aura. “Don't tempt me. I'm looking for a girlfriend.”

“By setting up interviews? Are you that desperate? I'm sure you have no trouble getting women into bed with you.” Sonya climbed onto the table on all fours, purring like a sex kitten.

Drakkar looked liked he would either lose his mind or pin her down on the table and fuck her brains out. “Your perception is keen. I like that. This is a staged relationship. A friend of mine is staying with me and I'd like to have a three-way with him.”

Her tone became saucy. “Would you also like to see him naked?”

His lips gathered into an amused grin. “Clever girl.”

“Are you going to ask me the rest of those questions, or should we take this into the bedroom so I can demonstrate my skills for you?” Good lord she sure was laying it on thick. She should probably tone it down a bit before he lunged at her from across the table.

Drakkar stood and helped her down from off the table. “I think I've learned all I need to.”

That could be taken either way. “Should I go then?”

His touch was frigid and forceful on her arm as he halted her in her steps. “No. I meant I want you in my bed. When my friend gets home we'll have a three-way, but I think I should test out the goods first.”

His salacious wink was devilish and he really deserved a punch in the groin, but she simply smiled at him like a simpering flirt and walked out of the study with him. His uncommonly large cock strained against his white karate pants as they neared the stairs.

Sonya smothered a surprised gasp when he whirled her around and crushed his lips against hers. The aggression fueling the spontaneous kiss startled her as did the skill backing it. She felt her body tip and sink with his arm cradling her back as he lowered her to the stairs and positioned his body over hers.

This wasn't at all what she’d pictured. He hadn't been so strong and daunting in her imagination. She'd kicked his ass and walked away unscathed, but in truth his size and strength intimated her. He could easily overpower her if he wanted to. How was she supposed to take him down and escape with her life?

Then too, she'd bought another pregnancy test and discovered she was pregnant. She couldn't put her baby at risk. When she made her move she'd have to act quickly, preferably before he took his clothes off or put his hands on her.

Sonya broke the kiss when Drakkar raised the hem of her dress and started to tug the panties down her butt. She just barely kept them on when she grabbed his outspoken hand. “I thought we could do this in your bedroom.”

“I'd just as soon fuck you right here on these stairs,” he replied with a devilish grin.

She stroked his prominent pecs. “I want our first time to be in a bed together.”

He winked at her and helped her to her feet. “As you wish.”

Once upstairs, she made her move and jumped on him from behind. Before she could bite him, Drakkar yanked her off him and backhanded her. For some reason he immediately pulled open his dresser drawer as if looking for something. When he saw her lunge at him, he yanked the drawer out and shoved her against the wall with it.

“Shit! I knew it!” he shouted.

Sonya snarled, throwing boxers over his head as she threw the drawer and lunged at him. Drakkar ripped the garment off his bald head and grabbed something amidst the scattered socks. Her mouth opened, revealing her fangs, but he crammed a wad of socks inside to prevent her from biting him. She pulled them out and he slammed her into the wall, clutching a knife he held poised over her chest.

“Don't!” she pleaded.

The knife wasn't the concern. It was the fact that its handle consisted of an intricate pentagram design. There were only three known ways a crusnik could be killed: by a demonic weapon, by either fire called down from heaven or unholy fire summoned up from the depths of hell, and by having anything with a pentagram on it rammed into their hearts.