“Depend on you for what?”
“Everything,” he assured her huskily before pulling back to regard her with a smug expression. “But in this particular case, I spoke with Gabriel last night and asked for him to find us suitable clothes to continue our journey.” He reached to grab a plain bag from the end of the bed. “Ta da.”
Reaching for the bag, Nefri pulled out several pairs of jeans, both male and female in various sizes, and two matching gray hoodies that would allow them to easily travel without attracting notice among the humans.
With a roll of her eyes, she tossed the clothes onto the mattress and stripped off her robe. “So all this was a waste of time?” She waved toward the clothes scattered across the floor.
His dark gaze made a slow, intimate survey of her slender curves. “Hardly a waste.”
“You are impossible,” she muttered, pulling on the jeans and the smaller hoodie before shoving her feet into the sneakers she’d been wearing when she arrived.
“Sí”, he readily agreed, his smile filled with a lethal charm as he dressed. “But what would you do without me?”
She paused. Without him.
A hollow pain bloomed in the center of her very being. The sort of pain a vampire could die from.
“I don’t intend to find out,” she said, her voice so low she wasn’t certain Santiago had heard her until he’d grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her hard against his chest.
He gazed down at her pale face, his expression somber. “Nefri . . .”
Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a sharp knock. For a minute, they stared at one another in silence, each unwilling to end the shockingly profound connection.
Then as there was another loud knock, Santiago was striding across the room, his curses filling the air. Yanking open the door, he glared at the handsome vampire who was attired in a gray tuxedo. “Dammit, Gabriel,” he growled in obvious annoyance. “What do you want?”
Unfazed by Santiago’s harsh tone, or the icy power that slammed through the air, Gabriel straightened the cuffs of his white, satin shirt. “There’s a”—he paused, a wicked amusement in his dark blue eyes—“creature downstairs who says that he’s your partner.”
Santiago scowled. Partner? What the hell?
“Levet,” Nefri murmured, coming to stand at his side.
Oh . . . hell. He’d forgotten the tiny gargoyle. Again. It had to be one of those Freudian things.
“A curious companion,” Gabriel said, clearly enjoying the thought of Santiago stuck with such a ridiculous creature.
“Don’t start,” Santiago cautioned his host.
Gabriel smiled. “He claims to have vital information that you must hear immediately.”
“Fine. Tell him to park his granite ass outside and we’ll be down to speak with him later.”
Gabriel shifted his gaze to Nefri, reaching to lift her hand to his lips. “My lady, I hope my humble establishment has been . . .”
“Yeah, yeah.” Santiago wrapped an arm around Nefri’s shoulder, firmly tugging her from Gabriel’s light grasp. “Go away.”
“Santiago,” Nefri chided softly. She understood he was an alpha vampire who felt the need to flex his muscles when another alpha was near, but she wasn’t a bone to be fought over. She had muscles of her own that could be flexed. “Thank you, Gabriel, for your most gracious hospitality.”
Gabriel flashed Santiago a condescending smile. “Manners are a lost art among the children, I fear.”
Santiago snorted, then deliberately slammed the door in Gabriel’s face.
Nefri shook her head. Males. “Do you feel better?”
His arm tightened around her shoulder and without warning he was swooping down to kiss her with a fierce intensity. She stiffened in surprise, then, sensing his need, she melted against him. This wasn’t about conquering her. Or even staking a claim.
It was an instinctive need to know she would willingly choose him above all others.
At last lifting his head, he regarded her with a brooding gaze. “Now I feel better.”
She went on her tiptoes to nip at his chin. “We need to find out what information Levet has.”
He grimaced. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to let him wait a few hours?”
She gave a shake of her head, that strange sense of urgency returning with a vengeance. “I don’t think we can afford to wait.”
His eyes darkened, as if he shared her sudden unease. “Oh . . . hell.”
Chapter 23
Styx’s lair in Chicago
To Sally the bedroom she’d been given looked like something out of a glossy magazine.
As big as her mother’s cottage, it was decorated in shades of sea foam green and silver. A massive fireplace consumed one wall with another wall lined with arched windows that overlooked a distant lake. The floor was covered by a Parisian carpet and the ceiling was covered with a painting of angels dancing among the clouds.
In the center of the room was a canopy bed with a pale green comforter that was perfectly matched to the chaise lounge set beside the windows. There was also a hand-carved armoire and a mirrored dressing table.
Clearly the gig of being the King of Vampires paid well, she wryly acknowledged, trying her best not to be intimidated by her surroundings.
It was bad enough that Roke had made her feel like the biggest loser to ever walk the earth.
“I couldn’t possibly have been trapped with a worse mate if I tried. . . .”
Cold-blooded snake.
She wasn’t going to be overawed by a mere house.
Thankfully while she was indulging in a hot bubble bath someone (she was betting on Styx’s lovely mate, Darcy) had made sure she had clean clothing. She chose a pair of black spandex pants that she matched with a white muscle shirt.
It was the perfect outfit for the hours of meditation she would need while her spell continued to simmer in the kitchen.
Or at least, that had been the plan.
She’d barely pulled on the clothes and run a brush through her damp hair when the silence was destroyed by a sudden knock. She stiffened, already knowing who was on the other side of the heavy walnut door.
She could actually feel Roke. As if there was a physical connection between them.
Standing in the center of the room, she wrapped her arms around her waist. It would be futile to try and pretend she was asleep. Roke was a vampire. He could no doubt hear the sudden increase of her heartbeat and the rapid rasp of her breath.
Besides, he’d already proven he didn’t give a crap about her or her feelings. Even if she was sleeping, he wouldn’t hesitate to wake her up.