Red-Headed Stepchild (Sabina Kane #1)

Red-Headed Stepchild (Sabina Kane #1) Page 33

“Surprise will be on our side,” he said. “Besides, the mage should be able to back up the team should any magical intervention be necessary.”

I didn’t like the way he’d said “the mage.” He spat the word out, like it had been a bad taste in his mouth. I didn’t comment because I was finally paying attention to the direction he was leading me.

“Isn’t your office in the other direction?”

He moved the hand from my lower back to wrap his arm around my shoulder. I was suddenly glad I’d shoved my gun into my boot instead of its normal place at the small of my back. “I thought we’d meet in my chambers.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just guided me confidently toward his rooms. I didn’t protest because the privacy of the chambers suited my plans just fine. When we got to the doors, I noticed no guards were on duty. So, Clovis wanted extra privacy for our “meeting”? That was fine with me. It’d be easier to escape once the deed was done.

He led me into the rooms and shut the doors behind us. Once again, my senses were assaulted by the overpowering scent of sex. I found it odd I never noticed the smell on Clovis outside this room.

“Can I offer you a drink?”

I shook my head, not trusting him or his libations. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He shrugged and went to the bar, pouring himself a tumbler of something amber-colored. He swirled the drink around for a moment, watching me across the room. I stood still under his scrutiny, despite my sudden urge to fidget.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sabina.”

I tamped down the brief spurt of panic his words created. “How so?” Deliberately, I sauntered toward him.

“You know damned well what,” he said. He took a gulp from the glass and slammed it on the bar. “I’ve made it clear I want you in my bed.”

Relief flooded me for a moment. I’d been worried he knew something about my working for the Dominae or the plan to kill him.

“And I told you I needed more time.”

He came forward, his hands gripping my shoulders roughly. “I don’t like games.”

“Good, because I’m not playing them,” I said. I wanted to push his hands away but decided it would only anger him further. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. When I come to your bed, I want it to be with a clear head.”

“You said when you come to my bed, not if,” he said, moving in closer. I felt light-headed, which seemed to be normal now whenever he was this near.

“I never said I wasn’t interested.” I toyed with his tie and lifted the corner of my mouth in a flirtatious smile.

He bent down and placed a kiss on my neck, just over my jugular. “If you won’t let me have your body—yet, perhaps you’ll allow me to taste your blood again.” He ran a tongue over the spot, causing a stream of concentrated electricity to run from my neck to my groin.

My brain went all foggy as desire pooled in regions south. I knew it was wrong to allow him to feed from me. If I had my way, he’d be dead in the next five minutes. But he had some effect on my body that I couldn’t deny. Part of me considered allowing him one last taste before I damned him to Irkalla.

He scraped his fangs over my vein. The resulting pleasure-pain sent a shiver down my arms. The logical portions of my brain screamed at me to remember how dirty I’d felt the last time. But I didn’t care. Inside, I felt an overwhelming urge to do something wrong, something I’d regret, something to relieve all the pressures built up in my life lately. I went lax against him, my body giving him permission even though my head denied it.

My mind shifted restlessly through itself, bringing up quicksilver images. The gun in my boot. Mages strapped to gurneys at the vineyard. My grandmother’s disappointed face. David’s body smoldering next to a grave.

Clovis’s breath caressed my skin, hot and moist. It mingled with my own rapid breaths. “You want this,” he whispered. “You want to give me your blood.”

My head felt both overfull and deliciously light at once. My breath came in shallow pants as my heart skipped a beat and then kicked into overdrive. Clovis’ musky pheromones assaulted my nose as a coppery taste overtook my tongue. The onslaught of physical and mental stimuli compounded until I felt overwhelmed. Clovis’ fangs pressed against my skin, pushing against my vein. The sharp canines were about to break through when my heart went from pounding to galloping. I felt the skin give way and his fangs begin to sink into the soft tissue. I couldn’t catch my breath. Before I knew what was happening, I shoved at him, clawing and kicking against him until he fell back. Collapsing onto the floor, I curled up into a ball.

My heart rammed against my chest like a piston. I hyperventilated against the pain, sure I would die when the bomb in my chest exploded.

“Sabina?” In some part of my mind, I was aware of Clovis’ hand landing gently on my shoulder. I ignored it in favor of freaking out. In my head, I shouted to myself to calm down. I’d never felt so out of control of my own body.

“Breathe,” Clovis commanded.

I forced myself to take in deep, slow lungfuls of air. My pulse kicked up for a second before skipping a beat. The new rhythm felt slower, yet still too fast. Another slow breath and my heart ratcheted down another notch.

Somewhere nearby glasses clinked together. Clovis shoved a cool glass into my shaky hand. “Drink.”

My skin felt too tight and my jaw ached from clenching as I looked up at his concerned face. “Drink it,” he repeated. Through a fog, I squinted at the glass. Recognizing the red fluid, I brought it to my lips. The first sip exploded on my tongue, making my mouth water and my fangs throb. The rest went down in one swig. It spread down my throat and through my limbs like a balm. I closed my eyes and licked my lips, trying to get every drop. I knew Clovis was watching me, but I was still too panicked to worry about appearing weak in front of him.

When I opened my eyes again, my breathing had returned to normal and my heart had slowed its rhythm. My head felt full of helium and my hands were shaking, but I felt more in control. Clovis stood before me, his eyes sympathetic but calculating.

“Better?”

I nodded, wiping the back of my hand over my lips. “Yeah.”

He sat on a chair I missed when I collapsed. He didn’t say anything, just watched me. Conscious of his gaze, I cleared my throat and set the glass on the floor. My palms were sweaty even though I felt cold.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” he said finally.

“I haven’t fed in a while,” I lied. I didn’t know what the hell had just happened.

“Sabina, hunger’s effects are rarely that severe unless you’re close to starvation.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what it was. Stress maybe.”

He nodded and patted my knee, a strangely paternal gesture from a man who’d just tried to seduce me. “Maybe you should put your feet up.” He reached down to lift my boots onto his lap. Remembering the gun in my boot, I jerked away. His eyes shot to mine, surprised by my skittishness.

“I just need to go home.” I tried to stand. My knees wobbled, causing me to reach out and grab his shoulder for support.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Real concern weighed down his voice.

“I just need to get some rest,” I said. “I’ll be good as new tomorrow.”

He stood slowly, watching me as I tried to steady myself. “You could lie down here.”

My eyes shot to the bed made for sin. “Thanks but I’d be more comfortable in my own bed.”

He looked so disappointed I almost laughed. Almost. The fact I’d just screwed up another assassination sucked all the humor out of the situation for me. I briefly considered just pulling my gun out right then and taking care of it once and for all. However, I knew I wouldn’t get far, as weak as I felt. Clovis was too strong to come at without all my facilities in order.

I ran a shaky hand through my hair. My hairline was damp with sweat. “I’m sorry about, well, you know.”

He shrugged, a slightly befuddled expression marring the dark beauty of his face. “No harm done. I’ll see you out.”

I shook my head, causing hair to fall in my face. “That’s all right.”

Before he could argue I walked as fast as I could to the door. I needed to get far away from Clovis and his narcotic pheromones to clear my head.

By the time I reached the front doors, I felt a little better. The combination of blood and fresh air did a lot to restore my strength. Frank slouched by the front door, almost as if he’d been waiting for someone.

“Wore you out, huh?” He actually smirked at me.

I stopped and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

He came forward, slinking. “Clovis always has that effect on the ladies.” He winked at me. Winked!

“Whatever,” I said, reaching for the door handle. Frank’s hand landed on mine. I rounded on him. “Back off.”

“Ah, come on,” he said, toying with a few strands of my hair. “Didn’t Clovis tell you? He doesn’t mind sharing.”

I bared my fangs at him. “Back off.”

He didn’t heed the warning. Instead, he moved forward and grabbed me by the arm. “You’ll find being nice to me will help you with the boss. What do you say, Sabina?”

I grabbed his free arm and twisted it around behind his back. “I say if you ever touch me again, you’ll pull back a bloody stump.”

With most males, this threat would have been enough. But Frank obviously had training to back up his cockiness. With his feet, he shoved backward, slamming me into a wall so hard I released his wrist. He grabbed my arm and spun me around into a choke hold.

“If you wanted foreplay, you just had to ask,” he whispered in my ear.

A comforting surge of adrenaline propelled me as I grabbed his arm and hugged it to me for leverage. With my free hand, I reached back and grabbed the back of his shirt. By adjusting my weight, I managed to flip him over my shoulder easily. His body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes drenched in too much cologne. He lay still for a moment, shocked by the impact. I placed the heel of my boot against his neck.