The Ninja Vampire's Girl Page 2

  He stepped back, shaking his fingers out at his sides and bouncing a bit.

  I exhaled, lost in a heady spin of sensations. Tentatively, I touched the twin wounds. "You can't?"

  Cocky now, he swaggered up to me and whispered aside my ear. "Monsters don't get to fall in love."

  "Maybe I like monsters." Yikes. Where had that weird confession come from?

  I trailed my fingertips down his face, aside the nasty scar. I wanted to ask him about it, but really I wanted to get to the climax his bite had almost brought me to.

  I lunged in for another kiss. His arms didn't wrap about my hips, instead I sensed he held them up as if being robbed.

  "I'm not going to steal from you," I murmured against his firm lips. They were beautiful, made for my mouth. So I kissed them again. And again. And I dashed my tongue inside to trace his lower teeth, but daren't flick it up for fear of his sharp fangs.

  "Whoa, love." He pressed me against the wall, but did not hold me there with his body. "You're acting kind of silly now."

  I teased a fingertip at the corner of my mouth. "It's called flirting."

  "It's called the swoon. You get giddy from my bite. Orgasmic, even."

  "Not quite. I need more giddy."

  Encircling his neck with my arms, I rubbed up against him, angry that the stupid corset was so rigid and while I could feel his taut muscles, he probably couldn't feel how hard my nipples were. Oh, but they ached for his tongue.

  Now he kissed me, and this time it was deep and lingering and laced with our throaty moans. I hooked a leg up along his hip and he lifted, holding me there, so strong, so dominant. I devoured what he gave me. A stolen sigh. A pulse of muscle against my thigh. A desirous moan in his deep, British tones.

  "There's no time to waste," he said against my mouth. "We find the angel, and I promise we will finish what we started here. But you gotta take me to the muse's home, love. You don't want the angel to beat us there, do you?"

  Shocked out of the giddy, I nodded. "Right. Must protect the muse."

  Man, the guy had some kind of powerful pheromones. I wobbled, and pressed a hand to the brick wall so he wouldn't think I was drunk.

  Deep breath, Coco. Ahh…

  "That way. About ten blocks."

  Twice now I'd sipped from Coco. She was sweeter than I remembered cocoa being, and I did remember it. I'd only been vamp about ten years. Hot chocolate had once been a favorite drink. Her skin was the same color—cocoa satin—and it begged to be licked.

  What the hell was I doing, allowing this bird to accompany me on what could prove the most dangerous encounter I'd had in years? Though it had healed, my back still ached. New scars always did pull a bit. I knew it would scar permanently. Wasn't like a normal injury that would heal up with fresh skin. That halo was divine—it left an indelible mark. And while religious objects could fatally wound baptized vampires, I had not been baptized, which I was thankful for right now.

  I had my own divine weapon, and I wished I didn't have to use it up close and personal. Thanks, Coco, for tossing the angel the halo.

  Ah, well, it made for a more interesting evening.

  "So how's a pretty bird like you know about muses and angels and vampires?" I prompted as she strode down a cobbled street beside me. This neighborhood in Bayswater was ritzy, but a man didn't have to walk far to hit a scruffy spot.

  "My sister is a muse." Her voice was unnaturally bubbly. She shouldn't be so enthusiastic about this adventure. And when she slipped her hand in mine, I almost jerked it free, because I did not do Sunday walks in the park.

  I clasped her fingers. It wasn't Sunday, and we weren't headed toward a park, that was sure.

  "Granny told us all about muses and the Fallen. We didn't learn about the vampires' involvement until recently. Oh, hell."

  She stopped abruptly, tugging her hand from mine as if it were coated with acid. "Are you…? What was the name of that tribe…?"

  I cocked my head to the side, marveling over the dimple that formed at the corner of her eye when she squinted in thought. A bloke could lose himself in that sweet spot.

  "Anakim?" I suggested.

  "You are?" She looked about for escape, so I grabbed her shoulders, and forced her to see me with a trace of persuasion to calm her panic. "But that makes you—"

  "I didn't say I was Anakim, love. And I'm not going to say. I'm just Zane."

  "The ninja vampire?" Her nervous, yet hopeful smile beamed through my chest and warmed my heart. Silly girl, I'd meant it about us monsters.

  "Right, the ninja vampire." It sounded like I should be sporting tights and pow-banging my way through a comic book. I was not ninja, but why spoil the fun? "So you're trying to get this halo for your sister?"

  "Yes. She may be able to use it as a weapon against the Fallen, should one come for her."

  Fallen angels were attracted to a muse, one particular mortal female matched to one particular angel. The Fallen had sex with the muse—usually not consensual—in hopes of creating Nephilim progeny.

  And a whole lot of nothing good happened after that.

  "I don't think the halo works as an effective weapon unless wielded by a Fallen," I said.

  "Maybe. It's worth a try, though," she said. "And it gives hope."

  "The halo? Hope seems a flimsy weapon, you ask me."

  "You of so little faith."

  "You got that right. Lacking faith has kept this vampire in one piece, let me tell you." I absently stroked the scar dashing my cheek.

  "We're here."

  I scanned up the apartment building, following Coco's gesture to the second floor. All the windows were dark, but then, it was after midnight.

  "I'll go up and have a look-see."

  She grabbed my arm, holding me back. "You're not going to trick me, are you? Take the halo and run?"

  "If the halo is up there, that means the angel is as well. I only need the halo to attract the angel," I said. "After that, it's yours."

  "Oh."

  "Surprised I don't have plans to go all evil-bloodsucker on you?"

  She shrugged.

  Yeah, she was surprised.

  Four

  The vampire walking toward me had the sexiest stride. A bit of a swagger, his arms gliding sinuously at his sides, but sleek, lean edges that could blend into the shadows and emerge to wrap about you like a dream come to life.

  Oh, hell, Coco, what are you thinking? I was not letting this guy get under my skin. He's a vampire.

  I prided myself on free thinking, being non-judgmental, “love your neighbor and peace to the world,” and all that jazz. Born a mix of British, African-American and French, race never registered on my radar. Wasn't vampirism just another race?

  And really? He'd already gotten under my skin and into my veins. Too late to turn back now.

  "She's dead," he said curtly, shoving his hands in his pockets and paralleling me.

  "The angel has already been here?"

  "No, I mean dead, as in cancer or some such. Her flat was empty. Talked to a neighbor in his PJs who said she spent the last three months in the hospital. Her death was completely unrelated to being a muse. So now we've an angel, armed with his halo, stalking the streets of London in search of another muse."

  "Oh, my God. My sister!"

  "She lives in town?"

  "No, Berlin, but she could be in danger. Can't angels like fly or walk the world swiftly?"

  "No flight, but indeed they do that fast-walking bit that tends to impress me, despite their nasty nature."

  I tugged out the cell phone and tapped in Cassandra's number.

  Zane leaned against a street post, ankles crossed and eyes taking in the surroundings like a panther on the prowl.

  When had that scar become sexy? It cut over his dark brow and right through that funny-looking white eye, then tore through a high cheekbone GQ models would have killed for. I wanted to touch it, trace it softly, maybe even dash my tongue over it, instilling a hint of kindness where h
e'd only felt rage. I didn't think vampires could scar—

  "Cassandra? You okay?"

  I explained to her we'd lost the halo, and didn't mention my accomplice happened to drink my blood twice already. She did not want me to come to her, but I insisted. I'd book the next flight to Berlin.

  "Why are you defying your sister?" Zane asked, as I started down the street toward an Underground station where I could take a subway to my flat, pack and catch a cab to the airport. "There's nothing you can do without the halo. You're not an angel slayer, love."

  "Nor are you!"

  He flinched, but shook out his shoulders and gave an abrupt twist of his neck.

  "Right, then. So I guess this is where we part ways."

  Seriously? He could walk away from me like that? Without another kiss? Without even asking for my phone number?

  Coco, you are not falling in love with this guy!

  No, I was not, but serious like was very probable.

  He grabbed my arm and tugged me into the shadows. Before I could protest his insistent need for the rough stuff, I followed his gesture, pointing down the street. I recognized the hulking frame and the menacing air.

  "Gotcha," Zane whispered. "The angel comes to us."

  And like that the sky opened up and doused us with rain.

  It was more than rain, it was Noah's bloody flood pouring from the heavens. I grabbed Coco's arm and hustled her across the street to find refuge under the tin overhang of a sweet shop. But I wasn't about to lose the angel this time. She followed as I tracked around the corner and spied the angel entering a warehouse.

  I could go in, kill the bastard and take what I needed. But he was armed with a deadly weapon, and me and my aching backside were a little skittish of that damned halo.

  "We're going to wait it out," I decided, shrugging a shoulder that tugged at my scarred back.

  We slunk along the shadows and the opposite buildings, until I found an abandoned warehouse across the street. The second floor provided vantage of the angel's hiding spot. I spied the tiny blue glow from the halo.

  "He's not going anywhere," I reported.

  Coco sighted in on the halo. "Why not?"

  "Your granny didn't teach you that angels don't like water? They can drown in less than four inches."

  "I don't understand. Why don't they just fly off?"

  "I told you, the Fallen cannot fly. It's something to do with Noah's flood. First time God wiped them from the earth in punishment for Falling was with the great flood."

  "Wow." She leaned against a Sheetrock wall, punched out in places and scrawled with graffiti. "You're all up on your biblical lore. I wouldn't have expected—"

  "That a monster would have such knowledge? I haven't always been a vampire, love." I squatted to the side of the window so the angel wouldn't spy me.

  "Ninja first, then vampire?" she inquired, and knelt before me. Her knowing smile let me know she was in on the ninja joke.

  I was uncomfortable with her being so close. But why? We'd already kissed and groped. Hell, I'd been inside her thick vein, had penetrated her so intimately. It doesn't get much better than that.

  Very well, it could…

  Thunder rumbled across the rooftops, but she held my gaze, unflinching. She was either very brave, or too stupid to know her own peril.

  And look at me. Peril? Sod me, but I wanted the woman, naked and moaning beneath me. The only peril that involved was that of the—No, I wasn't going there. Not some bollocks about the heart and all that love mush.

  "Tell me about this." She stroked my cheek over the scar tissue.

  I jerked away from her tenderness. "No."

  "Fine. You know you're not a monster, right?"

  Oh, the poor beguiled little bird.

  "What part of bloodsucking fiend does not resemble monster-ish to you?"

  "The part where you care enough about a stranger to protect her. I'm not sure why you're after the angel, but I sense that's not so evil, either."

  I blew out a breath, not sure how to reply. She had me pegged wrong. Guess it was up to me to set her straight.

  "Monsters attack innocent women in alleyways and leave their necks torn open, the carotid spurting until they die. That monster, when he saw me approaching to see if the woman needed help, turned on me and did the same. Except, I survived."

  I tilted my head at her. "So you see? I'm from sturdy monster stock. It doesn't get much worse than taking life from others to sustain your own."

  "You don't kill." She insinuated herself upon my lap with an ease I wouldn't have managed even with persuasion. "I know you don't."

  I'd killed many while serving the British SAS only a decade earlier. But that was neither here nor there.

  Her touch along my brow was too gentle. I wanted to drown in the tenderness, just…surrender to what I desperately wanted. It had been a long time since this monster had experienced such intimacy.

  "Sounds like the storm is a doozy," she said. "We're going to be here a while. So let's make out."

  "Er…okay, love."

  I let her kiss me because she was right. The angel was trapped until the storm let up. And I wasn't much for standing stakeout, staring across the way at our prey for endless, spine-breaking hours. Had to pass the time somehow…

  "Wait." I pushed her from my mouth, regretting the loss of her warm neediness. "I get it. Tough guy shoves you around a bit, bites you and treats you badly. You're chasing the bad-boy fantasy, eh?"

  "If that's how you want to call it." The twinkle in her green eyes told me she wasn't that stupid, and was also smart enough to play along with me to get what she wanted. Apparently, what she wanted was me.

  That was a bit of all right.

  Oh, but she knew how to give a kiss. And me sitting there, drowning in her sensual taste, the press of our bodies, the happy wonder of her—"Wait."

  She sat back with a frustrated sigh.

  "Can't do it," I muttered. A lie. What was up with that? Free kisses and all the other good stuff that would follow? What kind of sod was I to refuse?

  "Why not?" She toyed a finger along the curve of her cocoa-and-cream breast. Pouty lips teased my defenses. "Am I doing it wrong?"

  "No." Don't pout those kiss-bruised lips. Just…ah, bollocks. Must. Resist.

  "Don't I appeal to you?"

  "You do. But, love—"

  "I have bad breath, or something?"

  "I'll bite you," I snapped out. It was a good excuse, not necessarily true, but it should serve.

  "Don't you need my permission to bite me? How did you manage that without first asking me—"

  Glass shattered, and a disk of blue light sheered the soft dark hair tufting Coco's ear. I grabbed her against my chest. A drop of blood hit my forehead. She'd been nicked; the top of her ear bled.

  The halo circled around and soared back through the broken window at supersonic speed.

  "He's spotted us." I shoved Coco to the floor. "Stay down."

  Five

  Again the halo burst through a window, spinning like an insane 33 1/3 rpm flung off the turntable. It reached the back of the warehouse, and spun out through the window.

  Zane lunged a look through the window, and managed to dodge the return path of the deadly thing.

  Now I got it. Granny had told my sister and I that the halo always returned to the thrower. She'd forgotten to mention the part that the thrower must be the original owner. We wouldn't be in this situation if I'd known that.

  My ear burned but I resisted touching it. I didn't want to know how badly I'd been hurt, but suspected it was just a nick.

  I shuffled against a wall, my hand slipping on the bits of crumbled Sheetrock and rubble. I wasn't about to get in the way. I had a ninja vampire to protect me.

  A flash of silver caught my attention. The vampire swung the chain at his side, the brilliant blade catching the moonlight like a beacon. It had something to do with the scar on his face, I guessed. A battle prize won for the price of a deva
stating wound?

  "Watch out, love!"

  I ducked to the floor, grinning ear to ear, because I foolishly believed he meant it when he called me love. It was an endearment, nothing more. I think the heady rush of danger, adrenaline and blood loss was making me a little loopy. If not fatally attracted to the baddest of the bad.

  Another window crashed. Glass shards rained over my back. The chain swooshed overhead. And the clink of metal against metal. He'd snagged the halo!

  I wanted to jump up and hug him, slobber him with kisses and congratulate him on being the hero—

  "Don't move," he commanded.

  —or not.

  His boots cracked over the glass. His fingers moved over my back, carefully removing the shards and brushing through my hair and over my skin. "Okay, you can stand now."

  "You got it." I hugged him, and he allowed it. It wasn't a return hug, I knew that much. He was just letting it happen. He really believed the monster bit. Poor guy. "You got what you wanted."

  He sighed, and pushed me from his embrace. "Not quite yet."

  We eyed the warehouse through the insistent downpour. The angel stood at the broken window. Zane waved the halo mockingly, which earned us a nasty gesture I didn't think angels were allowed to perform.

  Noting my surprise, Zane said, "The Fallen are not like the angels you believe in, love. Nothing fluffy or divine about them. This is yours." He handed me the halo. "Now that he's without a weapon, I can go after him."

  He swung up the chain and grabbed the blade. "Got this pretty slicer from a Sinistari demon. The tip is coated in some kind of angel poison. It's the only thing that'll kill a Fallen. Gotta shove it up into his glass heart, though, which means I'll have to get real close. Wish me luck."

  "Wait." I leaned in and kissed the scar cutting his cheek. "It's from the blade, right? You went up against a Sinistari?" Granny had told us they are a breed of demons forged specifically to slay the Fallen. "I don't understand. Why do you need this angel dead?"

  "Doesn't matter what angel, as long as it's dead." He huffed out a sigh. "Do we need to do this now?"

  The rain beat relentlessly. The angel across the street wasn't going anywhere.