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Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels #4) - Page 14/52

“And yet here you are, wanting my help.”

“Just because I hate what you do doesn’t mean I won’t use you if I need to.”

White teeth flashed in what I presumed was a grin, though it was an oddly unsettling one. “If you had answered any other way—if you had been less than honest—I would have walked out the door.”

“Then thank god for honesty.” I contemplated her over the rim of the champagne glass. “So, back to my original question—did Lucian fill you in on why we wanted to speak to you?”

“Yes.” The amusement died from her lips. “I know of the reapers—one such as I cannot help but be aware of them. However, I did not know there were beings called Aedh who once manned the gates to heaven and hell. Or that some fool wants the gates of hell opened permanently.”

That raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you trade with hellkind?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I want all hell to break loose here on earth. If demons were as common as ants, it would destroy my business.”

I snorted softly. Consorting with demons was a business, was it? “Then you also know why I need your help.”

She nodded. “However, we are talking about a device created by beings who aren’t of this world. I will need to get the feel of it before I can say whether I could help you or not.”

“That’s going to be a bit hard, given that it’s woven into the fabric of my heart.”

Lauren gave me a cool smile. “I did not mean that in the literal sense.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I simply need to touch you. Stand up.”

I took a large gulp of champagne, then did so. She pressed her hand under my left breast, the coolness of her long fingers sending goose bumps skittering across my skin. There was nothing sexual in her touch, nothing dark or uneasy, and yet all of those things slid through me.

Lauren closed her eyes. For several minutes, she neither moved nor breathed, although she obviously was breathing, since otherwise she’d have passed out.

Then she retracted her touch and opened her eyes, a frown creasing her smooth features. “The device is very powerful. I’m not entirely sure if it could be stopped from functioning for any length of time.”

“Damn.” I sat back on my chair and met Lucian’s gaze. “It was worth a shot, I guess.”

“Young woman, you weren’t listening.” Her soft voice held more than a hint of rebuke. “I said I couldn’t stop it for any length of time. Meaning, it might just be possible to stop it for brief minutes.”

“A few minutes is better than nothing.” I hesitated. “But whether we could use it would depend on just what it takes to achieve that.”

Her gaze slid down my length. Horror swamped me. Not that, I thought. Anything but that. Or blood.

But when her gaze met mine again, there was little in the way of desire. Just cool calculation. And if I hadn’t been aware of it before, then that look alone was enough to tell me she was very dangerous.

“Lucian has already informed me of your aversion to blood magic—”

“I thought you said she didn’t do blood magic,” I cut in, glancing at Lucian.

He shrugged. “If I had said anything else, would you have come here?”

“Probably not.”

“Then that explains the lie. You need to explore all options, Risa. It is foolish to do otherwise.”

“Blood magic is not an option.”

“Which is a shame, as it’s the most powerful form of magic available here on earth,” Lauren commented.

I met her gaze again. “It also taints the user in the extreme.”

“That is a debate I will not get into. It does, however, lessen our options.”

“At least there are options.” Hopefully, there were some that were a little less unhealthy than blood magic. Although Ilianna was going to hit the roof either way.

“Perhaps.” She glanced at Lucian, then rose and finished her drink. “I will be in contact if I uncover any possibilities.”

She gave me another of those cool, thoughtful looks, then walked out. But as I watched her leave, foreboding shivered through me. She would find a way to mute the Raziq’s device—I had no doubt of that.

Just as I had no doubt that the price would be one I’d be reluctant to pay.

I rubbed my arms against the sudden chill in my flesh, and couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her.

“I’m glad she isn’t staying for dinner.”

“So am I.” Lucian topped up my glass. “As much as I like the occasional threesome, I have this odd feeling you would not have been your usual unrestrained self.”

I gave him a wry smile. “That is, of course, presuming I’ll have anything to be unrestrained about.”

He gave me an innocent smile. “Of course.”

I crossed my legs. “So how come you know about this place and I don’t?”

“A client told me about it and offered an introduction.”

His gaze was on my legs and his hunger stirred the air. It echoed through me, warm and delicious. “An introduction? You have to be introduced and approved to be a member here?”

He nodded. “Franklin’s caters to the rich. This place caters to the überrich, as well as those who derive pleasure from watching.”

“You can watch in any of the wolf clubs. And Franklin’s has private viewing rooms.”

“Yes, but we are not talking about common sex here.”

“BDSM?” I had no problem with that in and of itself, but beyond the odd handcuff fantasy, I really wasn’t into that sort of sexual play.

He nodded. “And blood play, fetishes, fantasies—but not all at once. Every night has a different ‘theme.’”

“And the theme tonight?”

“Bondage.” His gaze pinned mine, the intensity making my heart hammer. He didn’t care where we were; he just wanted—intended—to make love to me tonight. And while I hungered for his touch, somewhere in the dark recesses unease stirred anew. Because while I was part wolf, and did have an above-average sex drive, this was definitely more than that. But no matter how uneasy I was feeling right now, it wasn’t enough to make me walk away. Not yet. He added, “But we do not have to stay. We can walk to my place, and I shall personally cook dinner for you.”

And then we shall love until you can take no more and beg for me to stop.

The thought whispered through my brain, distant and tantalizing. I wasn’t entirely sure that the thought was mine, although I wasn’t telepathic, and certainly hadn’t been able to catch his thoughts before now. But then, did I need to? The hunger in his eyes made it very evident where his thoughts were headed.

“Isn’t your place a little too far away?” I had no problem about actually walking there, but not in these heels.

A smile teased his lips. “As it so happens, I recently purchased a nearby building for investment purposes, but I’m keeping the top floor for myself. The entire place is being renovated, but I have a kitchen and bathroom in working order.”

I was betting the bedroom was in working order, too. “Why arrange to meet here, then? Why not just meet in your apartment in the first place?”

He caught my hands and raised them, palms toward him, to his lips. “Because Lauren wanted someplace public, but absolutely secure. Maxwell’s is certainly that.”

Lie, lie, lie. But the thought died abruptly as he began to place gentle kisses on each of my fingertips, then drew one into his mouth and sucked on it lightly. My breathing hitched, then became more erratic. I might have doubts about him, but there was no denying my attraction, enhanced or not.

“So,” he added eventually, “what is it to be?”

From the minute I’d walked into this room, there was only ever going to be one outcome, and we both knew it. The where was a secondary consideration. I raised an eyebrow, and a victorious grin lit his features.

“I thought as much, which is why I already have a lamb roast in the oven.”

“And everyone knows a good lamb roast is a guaranteed way of getting into any werewolf’s bed.”

“Well, that and dessert. Which is a triple-layer chocolate mousse cake.”

I laughed, then leaned over the counter and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. It left mine tingly with anticipation. “I might just forgive you if the food’s as good as it sounds.”

“Excellent. Shall we make a retreat?”

I downed the rest of the champagne, and felt its effervescence all the way down to my toes. “Let’s.”

He came around the counter and offered me his arm. I slipped mine through his, and he escorted me out of the building and across the road to his apartment. It was one of those grand old Victorians that Collins Street was famous for, and only five stories high, which meant his floor was at treetop level. The old lift rattled and shook as it swept us upward, then opened to reveal a vast room that was filled with building debris and smelled of paint and dust.

“Welcome to my palace.” He grinned as he caught my hand and guided me through the mess of dustcovers and workmen’s tools.

We walked through the remains of a wall into the kitchen area. It was very rudimentary. There was an oven, a fridge, and the bare bones of two small counters—one of which held the sink—but just about everything else had been gutted. Plates were stacked on the non-sink counter and a drawer that held cutlery sat on the floor near it. But the mouthwatering scent of roasting meat filled the air. I breathed deep, then sighed in contentment.

“God, I don’t think there’s a better scent in this world.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the free bench.

Lucian’s smile was wicked. “Oh, I can think of one or two. What would you like to drink? I have wine or champagne in the fridge.”

“Champers again, thanks.” I watched him pour the drinks, then asked, “So how did you actually find Lauren?”



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