Delilah Devlin - My Immortal Knight 04 (6 page)

Max shrugged. “We made a raid last night—it was a bust.”

“Not the first time. You’re edgy as a bear with a thorn in its paw.” At
Max’s glare of warning to drop the subject, Alec grinned.

“Someone beat us to the party.”

“Who?” Alec asked, his brows rising. “Rogue vamp hunters?”

Max shook his head. “Werewolves.”

“Well, fancy that.” He took another draw of his beer. “Shit’s coming
out of the woodwork around here. Have you had a chance to get inside The
Compound?”

Max’s hand tightened around his coffee cup. “No. Security’s pretty
tight. No civilians have been invited in.”

“If the breeder’s pregnant, it’d explain why it’s sewed up tighter than
a virgin’s panties.”

“Could be they’re just a wary bunch of vamps,” Max replied evenly.

“You were right the first time, brother. Why do you think we have a new
dog pack in the neighborhood? Think it’s a coincidence?” Alec’s expression grew
hard. “The woman, Lily, have you seen her since she arrived?”

“Nope.”

“But you’ve seen the other women?”

Max nodded, knowing where this train of logic was running. “It does
look damn suspicious. If she’s carrying a vamp kit—”

“If she’s breeding for a vamp, you have to take out her and the
monsters she’s carrying.”

Max felt acid burn in his gut and he put down his coffee cup. “She’s
human.”

“She’s fucking a vamp.”

Max felt his cheeks burn with guilt.

“You’re the only one who can get close enough.” Alec’s gaze pinned him
to his chair. “Joe’s your buddy.”

“My friend died,” Max said, between gritted teeth. “Besides, he’d be
suspicious if I suddenly wanted to hang out again. He knows what I think of his
kind.”

Alec lifted an eyebrow. “So have a change of heart.”

Max shifted his head from side to side to loosen the tension knotting
his shoulders. “I’ll try to get close enough to see whether she’s actually
pregnant.”

“Good enough.” He canted his head, leveling a questioning gaze. “What
is it with you today? Are you going soft on the demons?”

Max forced his features to remain relaxed. “No.”

“Remember what they did to our mother,” Alec said softly.

“How the hell can I forget? They left me with you to raise on my own.”
He gave his brother a small, tight smile.

“Yeah!” Alec raised his beer and swallowed the rest in one long gulp.
“Hold onto that thought. By the way, can I borrow your motorcycle?”

So that was it. Max heaved a sigh. “I thought you were just here to see
your big brother.”

“That too. Got a date tonight—can’t take her out in my Civic. She’ll
think I’m a real geek.”

“If you take the chopper, you’d better lay off the beer.”

“Really?” Alec stood, eager to be away now that he’d gotten what he’d
come for. “You’ll let me have her?”

“Sure.” At least it would get him away from Pia. “But if you leave a
single scratch on her—”

“I know, I know.” Alec grinned and swiped the keys from a dish on the
counter. “You know what your problem is…”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“You need to get laid, brother.”

Max threw a glare at Alec as he walked out the door laughing, then he
glanced at his watch. Only an hour before sunset. Time to get dressed for
work—and time to get lost before Pia awoke.

But first he couldn’t resist one last look.

He walked slowly to the bedroom and pushed open the door. Pia lay on
her back just as he’d left her, naked and sleeping peacefully.

The dim light did nothing to hide the sweet curves of her body. Her
hair was a dark cloud—he’d remember the sight of it fanned out on his pillow
for a long time. He lifted a strand and rubbed it between his fingers—
fine
as spider’s silk
.

Her small body was just as deceptively beautiful. His gaze lowered to
the silken thatch between her legs, and he shifted his feet apart. He could
still remember the feel of her inner muscles clutching his body in rhythmic
waves. Could hear her throaty cries as she’d come, luring him over the edge.

He reached and cupped a breast—the one marked with dried blood. His
thumb caressed her nipple, and it budded instantly. He drew away from the
temptation of that rosy crest, and cursed silently as his body reacted to the
sight.

Damn her! Did she know what he was? Was she playing some sort of game
to draw him out?

First, a murderous pack of werewolves. Then a sweet, fanged temptation.

Max didn’t believe in coincidences.

Stretching, Pia woke slowly, moaning as her sleep-fogged mind noted
each delicious ache. With her eyes still closed, she slid her hand along the
mattress, only to find the source of her languorous state gone. Sighing, she
rolled and pressed her face into Max’s pillow.

For a long moment, she let her mind wander back through the evening’s
love play. Max’s stern mouth softened by long, carnal kisses. Strong hands
kneading her breasts and buttocks. Blunt, clever fingers that brought her to
the edge. And a cock that filled her to the brim.

But the words! Sexy, nasty words that made her flinch while at the same
time incited her to orgasm. She wanted his whispers again.

Where the devil was he?

Her eyes opened, blinking at the fading gray light filtering behind the
blinds. She listened, stretching her senses to determine whether he stirred
anywhere in the house. Instead, she found she was completely alone. Only
lingering traces of his tangy blood and spicy cologne remained, and no
footsteps could be heard anywhere in the house.

Her disappointment was keen. She’d hoped to feel the slide of his
strong hands and snuggle next to his chest, and perhaps, enjoy a slow ride into
erotic wonderland. Then an appalling thought occurred.

She’d slept!

Pia jackknifed to a sitting position. She’d slept in Max Weir’s bed!
Had he guessed she was a vamp? Or did he just think she was a very heavy
sleeper? Her gut told her he had to know. She couldn’t imagine a man with his
libido letting any woman in his bed sleep throughout the day. And if he’d tried
to wake her for a little morning action…

Her heart galloped, and she raised a shaking hand and stared—nope, she
wasn’t disintegrating, and by the ache in her shoulder and other parts best not
considered at the moment—she wasn’t a ghost.

As deep as his prejudice was reported to run, she didn’t know why he’d
left her alive. But here she was in his bed—not even a splinter of wood poking
from her chest. She glanced down and gasped. A burnished brown X was painted on
her breast.

She scratched at the flecks of dried blood. It didn’t take a brain
surgeon to understand his warning. He may have let her live for now, but he’d
been mighty tempted to end her life.

When she scooted to the edge of the bed, something smooth and hard
rolled toward her hip. Her hand closed around it, and she raised it in front of
her face. He’d been more than tempted! She screeched and tossed the stake
across the room. Then she leapt off the bed, searching the floor for her
clothing.

They were folded in a neat pile on top of his bureau, her shoes beside
them. Like he wanted her to dress in a hurry and haul her ass out of his house.

Her shoulders drooped. What had she expected? One night of incredible
sex and he’d leave her a love letter?

Best not to tempt fate twice. She dressed in a frenzy and hurried out
the door. She’d gotten the message loud and clear—the next time he’d play for
keeps.

*
* * * *

Pia fretted with the fringe on the hem of her sleeve. She’d found a
dangling thread and yanked it. “Shit!” Now, the gold fringe was only half as
long as the one on her other sleeve. And she’d wanted to make a good
impression.

The Compound, as its new owners had dubbed it, was a work in progress.
From the details she’d gleaned since a security guard let her through the gates
minutes earlier, the estate would be a cozy beige and gold haven with none of
the opulence that usually marked a Master’s residence. Overstuffed leather
chairs and sofas faced inward, inviting one to linger for a chat. But Pia’s
nerves hadn’t settled after her mad dash from Max’s house, so she paced, trying
to think of what she’d say about her latest failure.

Had she made a mistake coming directly to The Compound? What if she ran
into Quentin? Did he still hold a grudge? She’d only been a lowly operative in
the Masters’ Northwest Council when she’d last seen him. Maybe he wouldn’t
remember her.

Perhaps she was just being paranoid, feeling off-kilter since her
debacle with Max. If she ever saw him again and his expression held one ounce
of the disgust she now felt for her deception, she’d crumble.

No, she’d best slink back to Seattle, her tail between her legs, and
forget about the brawny human whose strength and dark sensuality had so
captivated her. She couldn’t bear to face him again.

Not that she hadn’t dreamed in a corner of her bruised heart of seeing
him one last time. At least to apologize. During the short taxi ride here,
she’d entertained any number of scenarios, all of which ended horribly. Her
staring down the shaft of an arrow buried deep in her chest… Her hand reaching
out to him as she disintegrated into a grimy dust heap…

Okay, so she was getting melodramatic. She’d fucked up. Time to face
the truth. She simply wasn’t cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff. This
latest episode in a long string of disasters should have told her that.

Worse, her first solo assignment outside Seattle and she’d botched the
mission in less than 24 hours.

“Do you think she’ll have a sleeve left if we leave her to stew much
longer?”

Pia started at the feminine voice coming from the doorway of the den
where she’d been cooling her heels for the past half hour.

A woman with golden hair that hung past her generous bosom grinned and
sauntered into the room.

The man following her inside was Dylan O’Hara. And wherever Dylan was,
Quentin was sure to follow. “Well, well,” Dylan said, following the woman
inside. “Won’t Quentin be surprised?”

Rats! He’d recognized her. She needed to get out quick.

Emmy swung back to Dylan, her eyes narrowing. “You know her?”

Dylan flinched, appearing ill at ease beneath the woman’s displeasure.

Pia had never seen the vamp anything but cool. Interesting.

“Well, I know her, but I don’t
know
her, love,” he said, his
hand curving around the woman’s fleshy hip.

“Good, then I don’t have to tear out her hair.” She turned back to Pia
and gave her a blinding smile. “I’m Emmy O’Hara. Seems you two are already
acquainted.” She stared at Pia expectantly.

Pia straightened and offered her hand. The last thing she should expect
was a polite introduction from Dylan. “I’m Pia D’Amato. From Seattle.”

“How was the weather when you left?”

Pia shrugged. “Wet.”

Emmy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t miss that one bit. So, you’re one of
us? I can’t tell just by looking. Dylan can, but he’s older than Methuselah.”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed, but a hint of a smile curved the corners of his
lips. “You’re Navarro’s solution to our little problem?”

“Some solution…” Pia muttered, then blushed when she realized she’d
said it out loud. “He sent me.”

“She’s here to help with the werewolves?” Emmy asked, her eyes
widening. “That was really quick.”

“No love,” he said. “Another little problem. One not worth mentioning.”

Pia took the hint. The subject of Max’s “conversion” was not for Emmy’s
ears.

“I can’t wait until Quentin arrives,” Dylan said.

Pia’s face flamed brighter. “Actually, I just stopped in to tell you
I’m heading back home tonight.”

“So soon?” Emmy looked genuinely dismayed. “But you just got here! I
know Lily would love to meet you. She hasn’t had any female vamps other than
myself to interview.”

“Lily?”

“Yeah, Joe’s wife. She’s been with us for several months now. She’s
working on a book.
The Definitive Guide to Vampirism.
”

Dylan cleared his throat. “She’ll likely be too ill to see our friend,
seeing as Pia’s leaving so soon.”

Emmy bit her lip. “Oh right. I forgot.”

“Anyway,” Pia said, hoping to take control of the situation, give her
debrief, and hit the road before Quentin burst through the door. “I’m packed
and on my way to the airport.”

“Like I said before, leaving so soon?” Dylan asked. “Did you already
take care of that little bit of business for us?”

Pia stared at her ragged fringe. “Um…actually, no.”

“But you’ve met him?”

Pia nodded, but still couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Met who?” A dark-haired man strode into the room. By his Latin
features, Pia assumed he was the newest vamp, Joe Garcia.