Vamps and the City

CHAPTER 20

Darcy accompanied Vanda back to the servants' parlor to see what the other ladies thought about the night's competition. Unfortunately, they all agreed with Vanda, so it looked like her hope of eliminating both CIA agents was dashed. Vanda changed into dry clothes, gathered two black orchids from the fridge, and then, the ladies strolled to the foyer for the ceremony.

Princess Joanna stumbled when one of her stiletto heels snagged on the thick hallway carpet. "God's wounds, a lady could break her neck in these slippers."

"You'll get better with practice." Darcy reached out to steady her. "You all look wonderful."

"Thank you." The princess looked elegant in her expensive black dress adorned at the neck with a strand of pearls.

"At first, I felt completely naked without my corset," Cora Lee announced. "But now, I just love it.

For the first time in over a hundred years, I can actually breathe."

Cora Lee and Lady Pamela had both opted for a youthful style—satin hip-hugger pants and cropped, sparkly halter tops.

Princess Joanna frowned at them. "You two should be ashamed. You are showing too much flesh."

"It is evil." Maria Consuela's dress reached her ankles.

Lady Pamela shrugged. "My old gowns displayed most of my bosom, and no one objected to that."

"But to reveal one's navel—it is ungodly." Maria Consuela twisted her rosary in her hands. "I have never seen my navel."

"What?" Darcy asked. "But when you take a bath—"

"I bathe in a shift as any proper lady should."

"Oh." Darcy realized she might have the ladies wearing modern clothes, but some of their ideas still remained archaic.

The ladies entered the foyer. The men had all changed into suits. Gregori strode forward to welcome the ladies, while the six contestants remained on the landing of the staircase.

Darcy glanced briefly at Austin. His broad shoulders looked so good in a suit. Unlike Reginald, he needed no padding in his clothes. Light from the chandelier picked up the golden highlights in his hair. It looked like he'd toweled it dry quickly, but the disheveled result only made him look sexier. His eyes met hers, and she looked away. She was not going to forgive him so easily this time. He'd told her he would get eliminated tonight, but then, he'd climbed into the hot tub with Vanda. And since Vanda had thrown away her mike, Darcy had no idea what they'd talked about. She'd had to stop filming afterward to get Vanda a new mike.

"Good evening," Gregori began. "Tonight, two more men will be eliminated. But first, an important announcement. The winner will now receive four million dollars."

The cameramen caught everyone's reactions. Even Darcy was surprised. Sly had never mentioned he was willing to go over three million.

Vanda moved to the center of the foyer. "My first orchid goes to Pierre of Brussels."

Pierre trudged forward to accept the flower. Then, he went upstairs to retrieve his luggage.

"And the second orchid goes to Reginald of Manchester." Vanda handed him the orchid.

The remaining contestants congratulated each other and dispersed to their rooms. Gregori and the women strolled to the portrait room, the cameramen trailing.

"Tonight, you eliminated Pierre." Gregori shone the special flashlight on the Belgian's portrait. His fangs appeared.

"Oh, fiddlesticks," Cora Lee mumbled. "He was a Vamp."

"And you eliminated Reginald." Gregori moved in front of the Englishman's portrait.

"Surely he's a mortal," Lady Pamela insisted. "He has such bad teeth."

"And he's so scrawny," Cora Lee added. "I do declare I've seen more meat on a starvin' possum."

Gregori aimed his flashlight at the portrait. Reginald's crooked fangs glowed with a yellowish tint.

"Santa Maria, may the saints preserve us." Maria Consuela reached for her rosary.

Princess Joanna stood, wobbling slightly in her stiletto heels. "This is terrible! Two vampires cast out. Prithee, Darcy, you must assure us there are no mortals left to plague us."

Darcy winced. "I can't say. But remember, tomorrow night, we're testing the men on their strength."

The princess sat with a sigh of relief. "Good. No mortal man could ever be stronger than a Vamp."

"I will be the judge tomorrow night." Maria Consuela kissed the cross of her rosary. "And with the Lord's blessing, I shall discover the inferior beings and banish them from our presence."

Darcy doubted the Lord was into detecting inferior beings, but still, she hoped the ladies would eliminate Austin and Garrett. She'd be in big trouble if either of the mortal men made it to the last round. She had no doubt that Austin was the sexiest man on earth, but still, she couldn't allow him to win.

The more important question was could there be a future for her and Austin? She had no doubt she was in love with him. Even his rejection and lies hadn't managed to squelch her feelings for him.

Vanda's words kept coming back to haunt her. There is nothing more sacred than love. How could she throw this love away without giving it a chance? Roman and Shanna were giving it a chance.

Why couldn't she?

If only she could bridge the gap between their two worlds. But there was no middle ground for her.

She could never share the sun with Austin, never live a normal life with him. She was trapped in her world, and he would have to be willing to join her there. Was it fair to expect so much from him?

Maybe she shouldn't ask for too much. Maybe she should take it one small step at a time. The way it was now, he could barely stand to touch her. He thought she was dead. She'd have to get him over that. She needed to prove how alive and touchable she was. She needed to show him how much she loved him.

It seemed suddenly clear. Austin was in the penthouse for one more night. Tonight would be perfect.

She just needed the courage to seduce him.

Garrett ripped open a bag of potato chips. "Four million dollars? I'm tempted to win the damned contest."

"No way are they giving that money to a mortal." Austin sat at the kitchen table and popped open his can of cola. "I think our time is almost up here. Did you collect much information?"

"A little. Just the names of the vampires."

Austin nodded, relieved that Garrett hadn't acquired much. "Emma and I killed a vampire the other night in Central Park."

"No shit?"

"He was attacking a woman. We saved her life."

"Cool." Garrett crammed some chips into his mouth.

"None of the vampires here would attack someone."

Garrett snorted. "They would if they got hungry enough."

"I think Shanna Whelan was right about there being two kinds of vampires. She called them the law-abiding modern Vamps and the Malcontents."

"She was brainwashed," Garrett mumbled with his mouth full.

"Think about it. There are obviously two different groups, cause we saw them ready to fight each other in Central Park. And I heard them when we tapped their phones. They hate each other."

"It's a damned shame they don't kill each other off. It would make our job easier."

Austin took a sip from his cola. "I think we should learn more about these two different factions."

Garrett shook his head. "Getting into their politics would be a waste of time. We just need to kill them."

Austin finished his drink in silence. He needed to contact Shanna Whelan. Or Draganesti, as her name was now. She'd be able to tell him more about vampires. And what it was like to be married to one of them.

He was a goner, he could feel it. He could no longer believe that all vampires were evil demons.

Everything he'd learned in the past few weeks pointed to a world that was curiously parallel to the mortal world. Just like humans, vampires could be good or evil. They could love or hate. And since he was in love with one of them, he was trying to make peace with their world so he could accept it.

Still, turning his back on the CIA and his old life would be tough. Too tough.

He tossed the can into the trash. What was he thinking, that he could marry Darcy and live happily ever after? Well, she could live forever, but he'd grow old and die. How long would it take before she was tired of his old ass? And a hundred years from now, he'd be long gone and forgotten.

So was it worth it to throw away his life's work for some flimsy dream? If he was sensible, he'd get himself eliminated tomorrow night. And never see Darcy again. But for the first time in his life, being sensible sounded stupid.

He said good night to Garrett and trudged up to his room. He turned on the computer and checked the surveillance cameras. The last two vampires, Otto and Roberto, were in the billiards room, playing pool. The foyer and portrait room were empty. He switched to the pool house and instantly regretted it.

Darcy looked fresh from the shower, her hair damp and her body scantily clothed in skimpy pajamas. His feelings of longing and despair came hurtling back. How could he give her up?

Vanda's talk in the hot tub had reminded him how rare and special love could be. Darcy was clever, brave, everything he'd always wanted. She was also nervous and agitated. She was pacing back and forth across the room. From her facial expressions and mumbled words, he gathered she was arguing with herself.

She strode to the kitchen and removed a bottle from the fridge. She shook it, unscrewed the top, and poured dark red liquid into a glass. Austin winced. She took something else from the fridge.

Chocolate syrup? She squeezed some into the glass, then stirred the concoction with a spoon. Then, she added some ice cubes.

She left the kitchen, sipping from the glass. Austin sat back in his chair, his heart sinking. She might try to disguise the taste, but the result was the same. She was drinking blood.

He strode to the bathroom and took a hot shower. He stuck his head under the nozzle, but the stinging spray couldn't wash away the memory of Darcy drinking blood. How could he join her world?

There is nothing more sacred than love. Vanda's words drifted around him and clung to him like hot steam. How could he give her up? He loved her. But could he commit to a vampire?

He dried off, then padded back to the bedroom with the towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced at the computer screen. Darcy was no longer in the main room of the pool house. She'd probably gone to the bedroom where he didn't have a camera.

He checked the foyer and staircase. Empty. The east wing hallway.

His breath hitched, and the towel tumbled to the floor. Darcy was headed his way. She'd put on a white bathrobe to cover her skimpy shorts and tank top.

He strode to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of clean boxer shorts. Red silk. Well, it was better than Sponge-Bob. There was a light tap on the door. Holy moley. He tugged on the shorts and closed the laptop. He shoved wet hair out of his face and cracked open the door.

Her face was pale and tense. Her gaze drifted over his body, then back to his face.

He tried to keep his expression blank. "This is not a good idea."

She pressed a hand against the door to keep him from closing it. "You said we should talk."

"I changed my mind."

She frowned. "This is your last night here."

Our last chance to be together, the words hovered over them, unspoken. "I'm not sure it can work."

Anger flickered in her eyes. "Are you giving up without a fight? That doesn't sound like a macho super-spy." She shoved the door open with a surprising spurt of strength.

Vampire strength. Could she actually overpower him? Austin stepped back. "Are you angry?"

"You think?" She shut the door, then paced across his room. "You agreed to get yourself kicked off the show tonight. And yet, you're still here."

"I wasn't trying to stay on. It just happened."

"Right. You just can't help being the sexiest guy on earth. It must be an awful trial for you."

He propped a shoulder against the wall and folded his arms across his chest.

"Are you trying to get me fired?" She continued to pace. "Don't you realize this is the only network where I can work?" She stopped to glare at him. "Are you totally insensitive to what I'm going through?"

He gritted his teeth. "Are you done?"

"No!" She strode toward him. "You should have never climbed into the hot tub with Vanda."

"We only talked. You know that. You were watching." He gave her an irritated look. "Like a hawk."

She snorted. "Well, you've certainly recovered from your repulsion. Or maybe it's just me who repulses you."

"You never repulsed me!" He pushed away from the wall. "You just confused the hell out of me.

Thinking about the sun and the beach. Drinking ice cold chocolate. Having a damned pulse. How can you be dead and have a pulse?"

She planted her hands on her hips. Her breasts heaved with each angry breath. "I am not dead."

"Undead, then, if it makes you feel more alive." He lurched toward her and yanked the bathrobe off one shoulder. He ignored her gasp and pressed two fingers against her carotid artery. Her pulse throbbed against his fingertips.

"Well? Am I dead yet?"

"No." Dammit. How could he walk away from her when she was alive? "Your heart rate is actually a little fast."

"Could be that I'm a little miffed." She lifted her eyebrows. "Or a little excited."

He lowered his hand and stepped back. "How?"

"How could I be excited?" She tilted her head and examined his body. "Well, I'm all alone with the sexiest man on earth, and it's been five years since I've—"

"I meant how can you have a freakin' heartbeat?"

"How can I not? I'm walking and talking. I'm thinking about you naked. Now, how could I do that if my heart wasn't pumping blood to the various parts of my body?"

Blood was certainly getting pumped to certain parts of his body. And it didn't help that she kept glancing at his shorts. Five years? "What happens to you during the day?"

She sighed. "When the sun rises, my heart stops. Then, when the sun sets, it's like being struck with a divine defibrillator. Everything jerks back into motion."

"It sounds painful."

She smiled slowly as she untied the sash to her bathrobe. "Oh, but it hurts so good."

Holy seduction. He watched her robe slide to the floor in a heap next to his discarded towel. As he lifted his gaze to her face, his attention snagged on her tank top. It was stretched across her breasts, the thin white cotton almost transparent. Her nipples were plump and pink. All it would take was a touch of his fingers and they would pucker. No, correction. All it took was a look. They pebbled before his eyes, the tips hardening into pink nubs. His groin responded in similar fashion—growing hard, but hardly a nub.

She stepped toward him. "You said you were in love with me. Is that true?"

He closed his eyes briefly. His groin was swelling, his heart aching. "Darcy, you should have someone of your own kind. Someone who can love you and live with you forever. I can't give you what you need."

"But I want you."

"Dammit." He marched toward the door. "You know I work for the CIA. If I go around killing vampires, it's going to cause a strain on our relationship, don't you think?"

"You could quit."

And be sucked into the vampire world, living only at night, constantly surrounded by creatures who considered him a snack. "You're asking me to give up everything."

"Then forget it." She leaned against the door to keep him from opening it. "Forget the happily ever after. It's a crock. It hardly ever happens, even in the mortal world."

"Don't say that, Darcy. You deserve to be loved."

Her eyes glimmered with moisture. "We don't always get what we deserve, do we? I learned that the hard way. So now, I'll just take whatever I can get. Even if it's just one night."

His body screamed yes, but still he fought it. Because, damn it all, one night would never be enough.

She locked the door. "One night."

He leaned his back against the wall. He would give in, he knew it. How could he resist when he wanted her so much? But if she thought they could simply shake hands afterward and go their merry way—then she didn't know how deeply he felt.

Her eyes wavered with a hint of insecurity. "Are you repulsed by me?"

"God, no." Not when he was considering giving up everything for her. Holy irony. How many times in the past had he been the one satisfied with a one-night stand? Was this some sort of divine payback? The thought that she could settle for one damned night was slowly twisting his guts. It trivialized their feelings, their connection to each other. It pissed him off.

"Are you afraid of me?" She lifted her chin. "I've never bitten anyone, and I never will. I'd rather die."

"You don't bite?" he ground out the words.

"No, I don't."

"What a shame. I do."

She stepped back, her eyes wide. "You… want to bite me?"

"Sure." He crossed his arms, acting nonchalant in spite of his growing anger. "I like to bite."

She gave him a wary look. "You mean hard?"

"Not enough to hurt. It's more like a series of nibbles, a scraping of teeth over the more sensitive parts of your body. Then, there's the swirling of the tongue. And let's not forget the joys of suction."

Her mouth fell open. Then, she recovered and licked her lips. "Where exactly would you want to bite me?"

He looked her over slowly. "The base of your neck where it meets your shoulder. And the soft place a few inches below your belly button."

"Here?" She slipped her hand under the elastic waistband of her pale blue shorts.

"Yes." His voice sounded hoarse, so he cleared his throat. He motioned to her sequined flip-flops.

"And your toes."

"Oh." She kicked off her slides and wiggled her toes into the thick carpet. "Anywhere else?"

"Your calves. Inner thighs. The back of your thighs where they curve into your delicious little bottom."

She turned sideways and lifted the hem of her shorts to reveal the curve of her derriere. "Here?" She stroked the skin. Her eyelids lowered slightly. "Anywhere else?"

His erection strained against the flimsy silk of his boxer shorts. "Hip, below the waist where it widens."

She shimmied her shorts down her hips a few inches, then skimmed her hands over the bare skin.

"Anywhere else?"

"Underside of your breasts, where it's full and heavy."

"Ah." She rolled up her tank top 'til the plump curves were revealed. She stopped just before she reached the nipples. She cupped her hands beneath her breasts and lifted. When she looked at him, her eyes darkened and began to shimmer.

Holy crap. He tensed. "Your eyes are glowing red."

"It means I'm hot. And I'm ready."

"It's an automatic thing?" Damn. If she had no control over her vampish behavior, what else would she do? Would her fangs spring out? What if she was actually stronger than him?

She strolled toward him. "Tell me where else you want to bite me."

He wasn't going to let her overpower him. He had other strengths at his disposal. He gathered his mental power and zeroed in on her brain. She halted with a gasp. Her eyes closed as a pink blush colored her face then crept down her neck.

Take off your shirt.

Her eyes opened. She smiled slightly. "As you wish." She pulled the tank top over her head and dropped it on the floor.

He was admiring her breasts when an icy wisp of psychic power drifted toward him and hovered around his head. He automatically swatted it away, and the cloud dissipated.

"You're very strong," she whispered.

"You're not."

She shrugged. "I've never tried it before. I don't believe in invading people's privacy."

"Then you don't like me getting in your head."

"I don't like vampires doing it. They're so terribly cold. But you, you're so wonderfully hot." She blushed. "I don't have anything to hide from you, and it feels so good to be warm inside. I've been cold for so long."

Cold because she was literally dead half the time. What was he getting into? Every morning he would wake next to a dead woman. But he couldn't ignore the pain and longing in her eyes. Her pain had become his own. Her world would become his own.

She stood before him, naked except for a pair of shorts. Her eyes had turned sky blue again, filled with a mixture of desire and fear. She was afraid he would reject her.

"You were telling me where you'd like to bite me," she reminded him quietly.

"Yeah, there's one more place. But I wouldn't bite you there. I'd make love." He leaned forward and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Gently, he moved her hair back. There, on her neck, were two little scars from a vampire's fangs. Poor Darcy. No wonder she always wore her hair down. He caressed the scars with his fingertips.

She shuddered. "Where would you love me?"

He whispered in her ear, "Your clit." He lifted her in his arms, strode toward the bed, and dropped her on the comforter.

"Austin?"

"Yes." He was taking her, and damn the consequences.