Dammit, he wasn’t going to distract her.
This was too important.
“So how does the female complete this mating bond?”
He teased at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know.”
She pulled back to glare at him. “How can you not know?”
“It’s not a ritual the female performs. She doesn’t dance around a bonfire or sacrifice small animals.” His lips curled in a smile filled with wicked promise. “Of course, if you wanted to dance around the bonfire naked…”
“Salvatore.”
He heaved a sigh, his hands shifting to frame her face, his gaze stabbing deep into her wide eyes.
“Either the female accepts the male, or she rejects him. It’s as mystical and unexplainable as falling in love.”
“And if she doesn’t accept him?”
“Then he’ll devote the rest of eternity to changing her mind.” With a powerful motion, Salvatore swept her off her feet and headed to the bed. Harley’s stomach clenched at the focused intent engraved on his face. “Like this.”
“Wait,” she breathed, her voice already thick with a pulsing need. “Your powers…”
The golden glow of his eyes spilled through the room. “Are ready and willing to please you.”
“I’m serious, Salvatore. You can’t go against Briggs while you’re weakened,” she protested, her breath tangling in her lungs as she landed spread-eagle on the mattress, Salvatore covering her with his heavily aroused body.
“Harley, the last thing I want to think about right now is Briggs.”
“This conversation isn’t over…”
He slid into her with one smooth thrust, and not only was the conversation over, but so was all rational thought.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, Harley closed her eyes in exquisite pleasure, settling for communicating in a more primitive language.
Harley hadn’t intended to fall asleep. One minute she’d been floating on a cloud of postcoital bliss and the next she’d been snuggling into Salvatore’s arms and drifting into unconsciousness.
She didn’t know how long she’d been out when she was awakened by Salvatore whispering in her ear.
“Harley.”
“Hmmmm?”
“Harley, I need you get out of bed and dressed as quickly as you can.”
It was the tension vibrating in his voice that had Harley’s eyes snapping open with sudden alarm.
“Are the vampires here?”
Salvatore eased from the bed and tugged on a pair of jeans. “No.”
Harley shook off her lingering glow and crawled out of bed to pull on her own clothes, shoving her fingers through her hair before fastening it back with a scrunchie. No one wanted to face trouble naked.
“What is it?”
Salvatore absently slipped on a black satin shirt, leaving it open as he sat on the edge of the bed and shoved his feet into a pair of black biker boots. A far cry from his tailored Gucci suit, but still sexy as hell.
Lifting his head, he revealed a grim expression. “Briggs.”
Harley’s blood ran cold. “He’s here?”
“Outside.”
“Shit.”
Standing, Salvatore crossed the room to grab her by the shoulders.
“Find Santiago and stay with him,” he commanded. “Styx should be here within the hour.”
Her mouth dropped open with disbelief. Did he really think she was going to be treated like some swooning female who had to be protected by her big strong male?
“No.”
“Cara, don’t argue with me,” he growled. “Not now.”
She stubbornly held her ground. “You’re not facing that lunatic by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine as long as I know you’re safe. Do this for me.” His jaw tightened, his eyes dark with concern. “Please.”
“Salvatore…”
Putting an end to the argument, Salvatore wrapped an arm around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder. Then striding across the floor, he yanked open the door and set her down in the hallway.
“Go.”
“Dammit.” The door was shut in her face, followed by the distinct sound of the bolt being thrown.
She stood for a minute, weighing the pleasure of kicking down the door and teaching the damned Were a badly needed lesson in pushing her around against accepting that she was wasting time.
Salvatore was just idiotic enough to face Briggs on his own, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
So freaking, typically male.
Turning on her heel, Harley headed down the stairs and back across the wide lobby. It was late, but she could still hear the muted roars from the nightclub below. Obviously blood and sex were a big draw in the ol’ demon world.
She was nearing the stairs leading back down to the pit when a female form detached from a shadowed alcove, and the scent of plums swirled through the air.
Tonya, the royal imp.
Or more likely, the royal slut, Harley cattily decided, her gaze skimming over the red microdress that had been lacquered on the lush body, and the heavy layer of makeup on the pale, perfect face.
“You shouldn’t be wandering around on your own, sweet thing,” the imp drawled. “There are all sorts of beasties roaming around who don’t mind if a woman goes furry once a month.”
Not bothering to react to the insult or correct the assumption, Harley stabbed the imp with an impatient glare.
“I need Santiago.”
“The King of Weres isn’t enough for you?”
Harley stepped until they were nose to nose. “Don’t. Screw. With. Me. Where is he?”
The woman swallowed, her eyes suddenly wide. “His office.”
“You see, that wasn’t so hard.”
With a pat on the imp’s cheek, Harley headed for the back of the lobby, not missing a step as the angry woman called out behind her.
“Bitch.”
Reaching the office, Harley shoved open the door and stepped over the threshold, indifferent to the dangers of intruding on a vampire without invitation.
“I need your help.”
Seated behind his desk, Santiago gave a lift of his brows before slowly rising to his feet.
“Of course. I am at your service.”
“Salvatore is going outside to meet with Briggs.”
“Briggs?”
“A psychotic zombie pureblood who’s filled with black magic and sporting a nasty temper.” Her voice was clipped with impatience. “He’s convinced himself that he should be sitting on the Were throne.”