Sweet Ruin

TWELVE

What. A. Skank.

Jo gaped from her spot inside the courtyard wall. This guy was the biggest manwhore she’d ever seen.

And a thief to boot. The bastard had lifted her most prized possession—from her freaking neck—and she’d never noticed! When she’d seen her necklace in his hands, she’d almost attacked. But she couldn’t risk a capture, and she didn’t know what other stunts he was capable of.

She would be forced to wait here until he got so caught up with those nymphs that he didn’t perceive her own thievery. Wouldn’t take long. The females were climbing him like a rock wall.

They thought it wicked for a vampire to bite a dark fey. They thought her pervy.

Her stomach clenched when he pulled Brook up into his arms and the woman wrapped her legs around his waist.

Jo decided then and there to get more sexual experience. If she’d been around the block, this wouldn’t sting as much. Those nymphs didn’t suffer jealousy. Rune had said “jealousy” like it was a dirty word.

But Jo was jealous. The connection she’d thought she’d experienced with him had been one-sided.

What was new?

He palmed the back of the nymph’s head and drew her to his neck, to the unmarked side. “Here, dove, give us a nip. You won’t break my skin.”

Jo straightened. What the hell?

He leaned away, his hair falling to one side, revealing the shaved part of his head and his pointed ear.

Brook said, “You want to fantasize like I’m the vampire?”

Dew giggled.

“Just so,” he baldly admitted. “And it’d help if you two quieted down.”

The nerve of this asshole! Did those nymphs have no pride? And why would he be fantasizing about Jo when he’d been so quick to pass her over?

To contemplate her murder?

God, this man confused her!

While Dew struggled to unfasten his belt, Brook bit his neck.

Rune commanded, “Harder, dove.”

Yes, Jo had seen weird things in the course of her voyeurism, but this male trying to relive her own bite was bizarre. Despite herself, her fangs sharpened into points.

“I said harder,” he grated.

I would bite him till he howled for mercy.

With a mouthful of his skin, the nymph mumbled, “I’m ’iting as ’ard as I ’an!”

“It’s no good.” He made a sound of frustration. “Leave off, Dew.”

Brook released his neck and jerked her thumb at the other nymph. “She’s Dew.”

That nymph had finally managed to unfasten his belt and was reaching for his fly.

“Whatever.” Rune flexed his claws. “Draw back. I’m about to bleed.”

“So freaking hot,” Brook breathed, but she leaned far back.

He stuck two claw tips into the remnants of Jo’s bite. Piercing his own neck, he gave a mindless groan and his eyes slid closed.

With a whimper, Dew fumbled to get his pants undone.

As his throat worked, blood trickled down his neck. It was so freaking hot. That dark, rich blood of his. To have just one more taste . . .

Ruined.

But unlike the nymphs, Jo did have pride. She wanted him only for the things he’d taken—and now was the time to strike.

Her scent.

Rune’s eyes shot wide when he caught that lush thread of meadowberry. Was he imagining it?

No, Josephine was materializing right in front of him. “Oh, Ruin . . .” Her shoulders were back, her chin raised. Her hazel eyes glittered.

He dropped Brook. Without a glance down, he shoved Dew’s hand from his fly.

Had the vampire seen his attempts to mimic her bite? His fantasizing about her as he used two stand-in nymphs? At least he hadn’t yet brought out her thong.

“Poor Ruin. I’m often imitated.” She gestured to the nymphs. “And never duplicated.”

Why did he feel guilty about the females, as if he’d been disloyal?

He was ever loyal to those that mattered. Josephine meant nothing to him. Nothing more than a mystery to be solved—and a liability to be handled.

A liability with the most exquisite bite.

In a whiskey voice, she said, “If you hadn’t decided to capture me, I would’ve fang-fucked your neck till you screamed.”

Filthy, wicked girl. I want her NOW.

She smiled, flashing those sharp little fangs, and his mind went blank. As if his legs knew better than he did, they stumbled toward her. “Josephine.”

When she held up her ripped thong, his steps faltered. She’d rolled him again? He’d never felt her. Never scented her until now.

How? How?

Next she waved to her necklace—which was back around her slim, pale neck.

He swallowed hard. They both knew what else had been in his pockets.

For the second time tonight, she raised his talisman with a mean smile.

Bluff her. He shrugged. “Still just a trinket, vampire.”

“Are you a liar on top of everything else, Ruin?”

“It’s pronounced Roon,” he said absently. “Not Roo-in.”

“Of course, Roo-in. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She nodded at the nymphs. “Ladies.” She began to disappear.

He vaulted forward, arms outstretched, but the only thing left of her was her echoing laughter.