Stealing Time (6 page)

“I just assumed you’ve had relationships during all this time,” I said, feeling shy. And while I am many things—stubborn, driven and, yes, reserved—shy is not one of them. At least, not until now.

“It seems I was waiting for you without realizing it.” He tried to lighten the moment with his tone, but his expression was solemn and his eyes remained dark.

Impulsively, I leaned over to hug him, and his arms were strong and wonderful around me. When we leaned back, he was his usual good-natured self.

“Evie, if I asked you to dance…?”

“I’d race you to the dance floor,” I said, laughing to find that we were already there.

The music started light and steady, and James and I spun easily around the crowded dance floor. The bass drummer changed the tempo and a sitar joined their pounding roar, wailing in eerie counter-measure. A contralto added a descant and the lyrics were erotic.

Couples pressed close around us and their movements became decidedly carnal as the soaring, driving music increased its pace. Something primitive awakened in me, shouldering aside thought and reason and all consideration of propriety. It was delicious. It was intoxicating. And it inspired my body to move in a new way as James’s eyes widened.

I danced a few steps back from him, my gaze never leaving his as my breath came faster. The music, my instincts, his presence, our growing affection—hell, just the fact that I was still capable of breathing—combined in a decadent mix with some internal, primal force, and my movements became even more sensual. Undulating to the grinding, sexual rhythm, I raised my arms over my head so my breasts could sway. Biting my bottom lip, for a delirious moment I imagined James writhing beneath me, the urgent sounds he would make, his flesh driving frantically into mine.

Rolling my hips slowly, sinuously, I tilted my head back, watching him through half-lidded eyes, becoming even more aroused to see his hunger. Gliding closer, I pressed my hands against James’s chest, the feel of his jack-hammering heart inspiring greater abandon.

Lost to the sensuous rhythm, the relentless beat and the sensations flowing through me, there was no room for alarm or for thought of any kind. There was only touch and warm skin and James.

Trailing my fingertips across his flat stomach, I spun behind him, never allowing my body to slow. Running my hands over his shoulders, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed rhythmically against him. James lifted his face skyward as he matched my movements. Then he turned in my arms and his mouth was close to mine, his eyes wild.

My instincts were in full command, guiding my body as I displayed through the dance, directing my hands as they ran down his chest. The intense heat of his gaze, the sweet warmth of his breath, the muscle jumping in his jaw, his nostrils flaring like a stallion scenting a mare…just being this
close
to him, all conspired to undo me.

The rhythm deepened further and he pulled us together. Now we were moving as one, my fingers tangled in his silky hair, his hands hot on my lower back. I tugged and brought his face down, caressing his cheek with mine and reveling in his sharp breath.

James met my fevered gaze and bent me backward, pinning me hard against him and holding me almost horizontal to the floor as our lower bodies rose and fell together. The sense of his incredible strength and how he gentled it for me was unbelievably sexy. I had never felt more alive, more daring, more femininely powerful. On its own, my leg rose to embrace his hip, to press us even more intimately together.

James made a strangled noise in his throat, part growl, part fervent oath. He straightened slowly, holding me still against him, and we were both breathing raggedly. “Evie,” he whispered. His arms were tight around me as his face lowered to mine…

A couple jostled us. When our eyes met again, the spell was broken. There was an awkward moment as we disentangled and got our heart rates under control. The music changed to a dark techno song I liked, and I thought
what the hell
and began dancing, this time in pure fun.

James ran his hands through his hair, looking shaken, and I couldn’t quite meet his gaze. He laughed as if at himself and started moving with the music.

In many ways, it was a relief to just have a good time. I had no idea what triggered my instincts and drove the intimacy of our first dance, but its intensity was too sudden, too extreme. Like being thrown into the middle of a bonfire, helpless to the burning even as you’re deliciously consumed by it.

Eventually, we headed back to our table. I held James’s hand and talked to him over my shoulder. “Is there anything you don’t do well?”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re a fabulous painter, you have a beautiful home.” I ticked off the list on my fingers. “You’re a great dancer.”

“As are you, Evie.”

Something in his voice made me shiver. “I had no idea Victorians could move like that.”

He tugged my hand and pulled me against his chest. One hand kept mine imprisoned between us, the other hand pressed against my lower back. He leaned toward me, his voice soft. “I was inspired.”

Why couldn’t I breathe?

His eyes were dark emerald as his mouth curved into a sensuous smile. “And I did not know reporters could move like that.” His head lowered and I thought…hoped…he might kiss me. Suddenly, I didn’t give a damn that this was unlike me—the closer he leaned, the faster my pulse raced, until only the barest breath separated our lips.

His expression froze and he pulled back. When his eyes cleared, he straightened and sighed. “Come with me, please, Evie. We must pay our respects.”

“We what?” I mumbled, trying to regain my balance—emotional, mental, physical.

“I sense an Ancient approaching the club and, as the highest ranking individual here, I must not delay in greeting her.”

“How is rank determined?”

James made a face. “The older you are, the higher your rank. And it matters what you’ve done since being changed.”

“Are you old by vampire standards?”

“No, I was changed in 1859, when I was thirty mortal years of age.”

I shook my head at how long ago that was, still thinking like a human. “So it means you’ve done a lot since you became a vampire?”

He made a noise, but didn’t answer.

A petite female entered the makeshift club and stood gazing at the crowd. With black hair cascading in waves to her waist, she looked like a Greek statue brought to life. When she saw us walking toward her, she did a double take. It would have been comical in anyone less regal. The small smile she gave James was proprietary and I disliked her immediately.

As we drew closer, he whispered, “Do not speak unless she addresses you—Ancients are adamant that our old customs be followed. I am sorry, Evie, but to them, you are merely a changeling, too close to your human life.”

Now I really didn’t like her.

A tall, reed-thin woman positioned herself between us and the tiny female. The formidable vampire’s height, shaved head and fierce expression spoke of a Masai heritage. Her fangs were bared and I didn’t think it was because she found either of us attractive. The Ancient snapped a curt word and the warrior stepped back, but her glittering eyes never left us.

James stopped several feet from the Greek goddess and he kept himself between the two females and me. “Peace and well met, Kore,” he said and inclined his head slightly.

Kore responded in another language and James answered, “My lovely companion is Evelyn.”

Following his example, I tilted my head. Damned if I’d bow to her.

Black, strangely pupil-less eyes that had seen far more than I could begin to imagine met mine and I wondered at the ancient soul behind them. Several long moments dragged out as Kore’s unblinking stare bored into me, and I lifted my chin and met her gaze with a hard look of my own. Unaccountably, she laughed—from its rusty sound, this was a rare thing.

“She is proud, your young one,” Kore said, craning her neck to look up at James. “And have you,
adelphos,
at long last selected a mate?”

“You call me friend yet question me publicly about such a private issue.” His expression was stony.

“My patience with niceties has waned over the centuries, James.” Kore affected a pout, the manipulative wretch.

“Any male would be honored to be Evelyn’s chosen,” he answered ambiguously.

Kore laughed again. “Indeed.” She spoke a few words over her shoulder, never taking her eyes from him. A small army of vampires appeared with several chairs and a table, and Kore sat, gesturing for us to join her. James held a chair for me before seating himself.

She purred, “What has brought you out among us this evening? You’ve never been the social type.”

“It was not our plan, but we crossed paths with Isidro and…” James trailed off, shrugging.

Her eyes brightened with curiosity. “So much you do not say.” She studied him for a moment, much like a bird with a new object, wondering whether it was edible.

His expression was neutral. “How have you been?”

“Well.” The female leaned forward in her seat and I tensed. “Tell me, how is your friend Leopold? Has he gotten you out of any trouble of late?”

I glanced at James, puzzled.

“It was long ago…”

“Not to the Sioux or the Cheyenne. They still tell stories about the white devil who helped them.” Her expression hardened. “You and your friend broke the Church’s treaty by involving yourselves in human affairs.”

“Leo was never accused because he did nothing but convince me to abandon a hopeless effort. I was cleared of any wrongdoing by Abasi himself.” James’s voice was curt. “Since he wrote the treaty…”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Abasi loves a good fight.”

My head turned back and forth between the two as if I were watching a tennis match. It was clear that there was a great deal I didn’t know.

“You did not answer me about Leopold,” she pouted, leaning on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

“I have not heard from him yet, but expect that he will return to New York in the next few weeks, as is his habit. When we see him, I will be sure to pass along your greeting.”

“Yes. Do.” Kore continued to stare at James.

“Is there something else on your mind?”

“What do you hear of your uncle?” Her eyes were sharp.

He startled. “Philippe? Nothing.”

“I never liked him, the
papara.
It is criminal how he changed you and left you to fend for yourself. You might have gone feral and what a waste that would have been.” Kore’s voice was sultry and when she smiled, her fangs were extended. “How fortunate you were strong and found a path for yourself among our kind.” She leaned closer to study James. “Tell me, do you still live as an ascetic?”

“I do not hunt humans, if that’s what you mean.” His voice was stiff.

“You diminish yourself.”

“I do not yield to our baser appetites!” He spat the words.

I had had enough of Kore’s arrogance and the barbed questions, not to mention the way she continued to flirt with James—with me right there! A low growl vibrated in my chest. Then everything happened in a blur—the Masai bared her fangs and leaped, but James was faster and the female rebounded off him. She glared at him and would have attacked but for Kore’s sharp reprimand. “Duni,
ohe!
”

The female hesitated, quivering with rage. There was a heavy pause, a moment in which violence seemed likely. Kore’s eyes narrowed and the air thickened with her power. The Masai stiffened as if in pain and her hands fisted until I could see the joints under her ebony skin. Bowing fully from the waist, Duni backed to her place behind the Ancient as James returned to his seat.

Looking at me but addressing him, Kore said, “It seems your Evelyn has chosen.”

He took my hand but did not respond.

“You amuse me, you really do, James. This weakness you have toward humans. Hmph. And while I do not agree with Philippe’s extreme cruelty toward them, I certainly do not condone your elevating them above their natural status as prey.” Her smile was cold. “Regardless, I am most curious to see your response to tonight’s entertainment.”

He went rigid. “What have you done?”

She tossed her head. “Just thinning the herd.”

The door opened and a group of eleven human males walked in.

“Where are the strippers?” one yelled. The others jostled one another as they looked around, smiling in anticipation.

A slender female vampire came forward and twined herself around the human who had spoken. “I just love college boys. And I bet you play football. What’s your uniform number, college boy?”

“Seventy-four.” The naïve fool shot a knowing glance at his buddies, and one of them made an obscene gesture and laughed.

“Mmm. Yum.” The female leaned into the human and inhaled, her face inches from his throat. “Are you thirsty, Number Seventy-Four?” she purred as she led him away. “That’s so funny, because I am too.”

I was rooted to my chair. Why didn’t the boys bolt in panic? From the moment they walked in, their senses had to be screaming at them that something wasn’t right. Couldn’t they see the predatory sheen in the glittering eyes regarding them? The dancers moving as no human could? Even from where I sat, it was clear that several vampires had their fangs out. And yet the boys gave off only a slight ill-ease, just nervous to find themselves at the center of so much attention.

That’s when it clicked—a male vampire went to each boy and held open a bag filled with fake vampire teeth. It was painful watching the humans put them on and threaten each other with the ridiculous plastic, dime-store fakes. I wanted to rage at the cruelty of the vampires ringing them, subaudibly laughing and calling dibs. Yet, to my shame, I was transfixed.

One of the humans met the gaze of a petite female vampire—with her blond ponytail and wholesome appearance, she must have looked like a cheerleader to him. His eyes widened when she appeared at his side and he smiled shyly. The smile became delighted as she stretched on tiptoe as if to kiss his cheek. And then she struck, burying her fangs in his throat and clasping his shoulders in an unbreakable grip. The scent of fresh blood brought the other vampires edging closer. My fangs shot out and I swayed in my chair, grasping the table hard enough to break off two chunks of wood. I barely felt James’s hand on my arm.

Thinking their friend had scored a responsive babe, the helpless boy’s buddies elbowed one another. And they stood there and unknowingly watched their friend die. His gasping, writhing efforts to pry the female off appeared to those who didn’t know better to be the excesses of passion. The boy sank to his knees, his face white and his eyes stark and staring. Still the blonde’s face remained buried in his throat, still she clung to him. Only then did a few of the other boys shift uneasily.