Chapter Four
Dublin, Ireland
“THIS IS IT?” QUINN glanced casually through the passenger window as Garrick drove them past Sorley’s headquarters in the Donnybrook district of Dublin. The big, red-brick house was half-hidden behind a wall overgrown with trees and hedges that screened most of it from casual view. He caught a glimpse of several vampires through the half-open wrought-iron gate, but since he didn’t know any of Sorley’s people, that gave him little more than a head count. And he didn’t need to see vampires or humans to count their numbers. He swore softly. “We’re going to have to go in there.”
Garrick shot him a quick look of surprise. “Say again?”
Quinn stared straight ahead, thinking. “Look at the number of guards around the house and gate. That many vampires hanging around every night would attract too much attention, which means this isn’t business as usual. It’s a big meet. And what better way to command Sorley’s attention than to invite ourselves in?”
“Or, get ourselves killed.”
He grinned. “A little trust, please. I won’t let the big, bad vampire hurt you.”
“Not intentionally, anyway.”
Quinn laughed, but sobered almost immediately. “Look, we need to gain Sorley’s attention. If we walk in there uninvited, it tells him two things. First, we’re not afraid of him or his people. An asshole like Sorley will appreciate that kind of braggadocio.”
“Not if you’re going to use five-syllable words like that.”
Quinn made a face, but his cousin had a point. By all accounts, Sorley was over 200 years old, from a time when boys were put to work young. What education they got was from the priests, and that wasn’t much. It wouldn’t do to make Sorley feel as if Quinn was talking down to him. “Point taken,” he acknowledged. “But he will be interested in the second thing our arrival will show him.”
Garrick gave him a questioning glance.
“By now, he’s missing both vampires and guns. If we walk in there with answers, he’ll have to pay attention.”
“Or he’ll just—”
“He won’t kill us outright. He’ll want what we have, and what we know. And if it comes down to it, I can control Orrin Sorley.”
“I’m taking my gun anyway.”
Quinn smiled. “You’re a vampire. You don’t need a gun.”
“It makes me feel better. Deal with it.”
He shook his head. “I think we’ve driven past enough times. His guards are going to notice.”
“Are we pulling into the yard?”
“No, I don’t want the cargo to be that close.”
They’d replaced the sedan which they’d driven home from the harbor in the wee hours of the previous night. The shocks had been destroyed, the vehicle almost dragging the ground from the weight of the guns they’d off-loaded from the smuggler’s boat, with the crates completely filling both the trunk and the back seat. The Range Rover they’d rented instead was both heavier and roomier. It was also more powerful, faster, and generally more of a pleasure to drive, which pleased both Quinn and his cousin so much that they’d gone out and purchased a second one just like it. No more discreet sedans for them.
For this visit to Dublin, they’d flattened the back seat and spread the crates out through the cargo space, to prevent them from being easily visible through the tinted windows. The last thing they needed was some passing Garda to catch a glimpse and get curious before they could give Sorley his surprise gift.
“Park a couple of blocks down and on the opposite side of the street,” Quinn instructed. “We’ll walk from there.”
EVE EYED THE gaggle of giggling women as they hurried toward the back gate of Sorley’s estate. She was disgusted. They weren’t allowed to enter through the front door, but were being delivered through the back like dry goods from the grocer. Two bags of potatoes and a couple dozen silly women. They were dressed nearly identically in short skirts and tops with low necklines, all tight and revealing. And there was so much cleavage on display that it had Eve checking her own neckline in comparison before she realized what she was doing.
“There’s no other way,” she muttered to herself, then slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. Sorley’s big meeting—which she’d heard of by chance during a visit to a Dublin blood house—was a total godsend, a way to get inside his estate. Maybe the only way. She’d checked into his household staff, thinking to get herself a job there. Vampires considered themselves a step above humans, and there was no way they’d be spending their time dusting a house that big. But while she’d discovered he did, in fact, employ a human cleaning service, they were few in number, and, as far as she’d observed, they worked only in daytime, when the vampires were all locked safely away, sound asleep.
So, she’d become vampire food, instead. Or at least, give the appearance of it. Despite her barely-there clothes, she had no more intention of allowing these bloodsuckers near her neck than she did the vamps she’d killed in Howth. This wasn’t a suicide mission. It was reconnaissance. She wanted to search for her brother’s killers, of course. But this was also her chance to observe vampires in their native setting. She’d learned enough about them to know they could be very tricky when it came to concealing their true nature. There were a few identifying characteristics she’d taught herself to look for—fangs being the most obvious—but, for the most part, a vampire could get away with pretending to be an ordinary human, and only another vampire would know the truth.
Unfortunately, in order to get inside, Eve had to put herself on the menu. Or pretend to. Blending in with the crowd any other way wasn’t an option. Vampires weren’t only bloodthirsty killers, they were also misogynistic creeps. There were very few female vamps. In fact, though she’d read about them online, and had even seen pictures of one or two who served close to vampire lords in North America, she’d never identified a single female vampire here in Ireland. Which left the giggling women as her only entrée to Sorley’s party.
“Shit,” she swore softly. Her skirt was as short and tight as any of them, with plenty of leg on display. And her shoes—a pair of Miu-Miu Mary Jane stilettos—were the most expensive shoes she’d ever worn and way out of her usual price range. She’d gotten them at a high-end thrift shop, where she’d gone looking for clothes, figuring a party at Sorley’s would bring in a higher class of dinner buffet participants. She’d nearly swooned when she’d seen the Miu-Miu’s in her size. She’d even felt a little guilty when she’d seen the price. But she’d bought them anyway, rationalizing that she was doing the human race a favor, and that the shoes were simply a weapon in her war against their common enemy.
Brushing aside the guilt over her fabulous shoes, she returned her thoughts to vampires and what might happen inside that house. Her only weapon was a small knife, snugged tight on her inner thigh, almost touching her satin-covered crotch. She shouldn’t have allowed herself even that much, but the idea of going in there with no weapon at all had been more than she could handle. Her fingers fiddled restlessly with her sweater, fastening, then unfastening, the two top buttons, leaving the already low neckline to gape open farther and reveal the full curves of her breasts. It also left her neck bare, just as they’d expect. She was as ready as she could be, but now that the moment was upon her, she was nervous.
The women’s laughter abruptly grew louder, and she looked up to see the back gate opening. It was now or never.
Sucking in a breath, she slipped quickly out of her car. The door closed and locked behind her. She wasn’t taking anything into the house with her. No purse, no ID, not so much as a lipstick. She’d secured a spare key fob in one of those magnetic key holders that she’d placed in the front wheel well.
The women were nearly through the gate, their progress slowed by their number and the fact that the entrance had never been designed for such a large group. Eve hurried to join the tail end of their parade, and even managed to exchange some excited titters with the other stragglers. She stuck to the center of the pack as they shuffled through the gate, avoiding the groping hands of the guards along the edges, her attention fixed on the forbidding house in front of her. Fuck, but it was huge. She’d never been in such a house. She could still back out, could claim a headache or a sick stomach. She could probably vomit on cue because . . .
It was suddenly too late. The gate behind them closed with a hard crash of noise, and the house door ahead opened to cast a dim light on the now tightly-packed group of women.
“This is tonight’s lot?” The question came from nowhere, a gravelly voice with no person attached to it.
“That’s the whole of them,” the guard from the gate announced.
“Well, don’t stand there, you stupid bitches. The party’s not in the fucking yard.”
The women were suddenly moving again, crowding against one another, no longer laughing. But Eve could still feel their excitement, like live wires scraping against her skin with every contact. She let herself be chivied along, dread growing with every step.
She’d done a lot of stupid things over the last few years. But this might just top the cake.
QUINN WAITED UNTIL the courtyard in front of the house had mostly emptied, until the gate guards were once again slumped at their posts, more concerned with every burst of laughter, every roar of approval they were missing from inside the house, than with watching the street against intruders. It was shameful, really. Quinn had seen what real security looked like—at Rajmund’s tower in Manhattan, or Raphael’s estate in Malibu. Even his own small guard troop was trained far better than these. Guards like Sorley’s wouldn’t last ten minutes in that company. Hell, they’d never have been hired in the first place.
They served his purposes well, however. When he and Garrick strolled easily up to the gates, it took several minutes for the guards to realize the visitors weren’t stopping, but were pushing their way inside. And by the time they’d puffed their chests out in aggression and opened their mouths to protest, Quinn had seized their minds and convinced them everything was fine. No threat, no uninvited visitors. They went back to leaning against the gate posts, their eyes on the street, ignoring the two dangerous strangers now walking toward the house.
“What’s the plan?” Garrick asked quietly as they started up the stairs.
“There’s a plan?” Quinn repeated, then laughed at his cousin’s middle-finger salute. “It’s simple. We’re going to walk in there and wait to be noticed. And then I’m going to announce our intentions.”
Garrick grunted his acknowledgment and pulled open the door.
Quinn led the way, striding into the gathering as if he belonged there. One thing he’d learned from his many years in the courtroom . . . confidence was 90% of the battle. Most humans were followers. Give them a leader and they were yours. The same was true of vampires, maybe even more so, since vampires were hardwired to respect power. And that was something Quinn had in spades.
He headed directly for Sorley, who was easy to find despite the crowd. He sat at the front of the room, separated from his guests by a few critical feet, and backed by four guards who were far more attentive than the two on the outside gate had been.
Quinn walked up to the invisible demarcation line and paused, staring boldly at Sorley over the intervening space. It was blatant provocation, and the vampire lord rose to the challenge. Sorley might be an asshole of cosmic proportions, but he wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t weak.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded. His guards took notice, closing in on both sides of his chair and glaring daggers at Quinn and Garrick, abruptly aware of the strangers in their midst. Strangers who were dangerous enough to warrant their attention, even though Quinn was concealing the true depths of his power. He and Garrick would both register as strong master vampires, even to Sorley’s radar, since the Irish lord had no reason to look more deeply.
Quinn tipped his head to Sorley and said, “I’m a man with something that belongs to you. Something you lost recently.”
Sorley’s gaze narrowed, and Quinn could feel the vampire lord testing his shields and finding no weakness. “And what would that be?” he asked calmly. He was a vampire lord in the heart of his power, surrounded by his people. He had nothing to fear from a presumptuous and uninvited intruder.
Quinn gave a slow, fang-baring smile. “Guns,” he said simply.
Sorley’s attention sharpened. He glanced over Quinn’s shoulder and jerked his head sharply in a silent signal to one of his vamps. Quinn felt Garrick tense next to him, but he wasn’t worried. He’d have detected any hostile movement behind them. Whatever Sorley had his vampire doing, it wasn’t an attack. Maybe it was something as innocuous as trying to reach the two dead vampires by phone, or maybe some of the human crew from the boats.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Sorley said softly. “Who are you?”
Quinn made a show of his answer, pressing a hand to his chest in mock dismay. “Where are my manners? My name is Quinn. And this is my cousin Garrick. We’re new to town and recently ran into a . . . business opportunity that, as it turns out, involves you.”
“American,” Sorley said, practically spitting it like a dirty word.
“Guilty as charged,” Quinn responded easily. “Though both born in Ireland, as it turns out. We’ve come back to advance our fortunes in the land of our birth.”
“To rediscover your roots,” Sorley said mockingly.
Quinn gave Sorley a cool look. “I wasn’t aware I’d lost them.”
The vampire lord stared for a moment, then barked a laugh. “I like you, Quinn. You’ve got cast iron bollocks. Now where the fuck are my guns?”
“Nearby,” he said simply.
The vampire lord’s attention went over Quinn’s shoulder again, and he knew the same vampire Sorley had signaled before had returned from whatever errand he’d been sent upon. His mouth tightened perceptibly.
“Oh dear,” Quinn thought. “Bad news?” He was smart enough to keep the thought inside his own head, but couldn’t help the tiny smirk that crossed his face before his expression settled into a bland mask.
Sorley came to his feet with a growl. “No more games. What do you want?”
“The same thing we all do. Business. Money. A good life. Women to suck and fuck.”
Sorley laughed again, then backed up and sat in his chair. He flicked a hand at one of his guards, who immediately produced a second chair and placed it next to Sorley’s.
“Have a seat,” Sorley said, making it sound more like an order than an invitation.
Quinn bowed slightly in thanks, but moved the chair so that it faced Sorley at an angle. There was no way in hell he was turning his back on the vampire lord’s personal guard. He sat, and Garrick immediately took up position behind him, no doubt exchanging glares with the other guards.
“So, tell me,” Sorley asked. “How exactly did you get hold of my guns?”
Quinn leaned back all casual like and began by telling him about the two vampires who’d been intended to meet the boat, and how they were dead. Eve had been the one who killed them, but he let Sorley assume it had been he and Garrick who’d done the deed. The last thing the beautiful redhead needed was a vampire lord on her tail. It was bad enough she was taking on regular vamps. Her luck hadn’t run out yet, but it would, sooner or later. And when it did, she’d find herself in a world of hurt with a pissed off, powerful vampire.
“So, they’re both dusted?” Sorley confirmed.
Quinn shrugged. “All I wanted was information. We’re new to town and trying to learn the set-up. But your vamps took it badly. They attacked. We won.”
Sorley pursed his lips and made a soft grunting noise. “And the guns?”
“Well, we could hardly leave the boat captain literally at sea, wondering what had happened to his contacts in Howth. So we met the boat, offloaded the cargo, and dealt with the witnesses.”
Sorley stared. His eyes were cold and flat, and Quinn knew there’d be no second chances with this vampire. “You killed my boat captain?”
“He was human and, thus, untrustworthy,” Quinn deflected easily. “I thought only to protect your secrets.”
“Makes it harder to keep the guns flowing if you kill the fucking boat captain.”
“True enough. But I have contacts of my own. Boat captains are easily replaced.”
“You want the Howth import contract,” Sorley said flatly, and it wasn’t a question.
That’s one way to describe a smuggling operation, Quinn thought. But all he said was, “Howth will be a good start.”
Sorley froze, clearly picking up on the sub-text of Quinn’s response. Howth was only the beginning of what Quinn wanted. Sorley’s problem would be what came next. How high did Quinn want to go in the vampire lord’s operation? His nostrils flared as he studied Quinn, almost as if he was literally sniffing the air for dishonesty and duplicity.
But Quinn had had decades to perfect his blank face, to control the small chemical changes that occurred when a man lied. Even before he’d become a vampire, he’d shown only what he wanted to the world, his emotions tightly contained well before he’d taken a career path that made such dissimulation a requirement. As a human, he’d been cold as ice in the courtroom. As a vampire, he’d been reborn with the power to rule, and vampire lords excelled at deceiving others.
He and Sorley were equally still as they studied each other, but it was Sorley who broke the silent tableau. He nodded abruptly. “Done.” His reluctance was obvious, but it was the right decision, the only one that made sense businesswise. Quinn could almost discern his thought process, step by step. His first instinct would probably have been to kill Quinn, but he hadn’t gotten to be Lord of Ireland because he was stupid. Even a surface scan of Quinn’s strength would have shown that he’d be hard to kill. Not impossible, at least not as far as Sorley could tell, since Quinn was still camouflaged, but difficult. And in the final analysis, power was the one thing that vampires respected above all others. So, why waste such a potentially valuable underling? At the same time, he wouldn’t want Quinn running around Dublin where he could cause problems. Much better to give him Howth, to keep him far away and under his thumb.
Not that Quinn planned to remain under anyone’s thumb for long. But Sorley didn’t know that.
Quinn smiled broadly, careful to make it more friendly than threatening. He wasn’t ready to take on the Irish lord just yet. “Excellent. Now, where do you want your guns?”
“My lads will handle that. Where’s the vehicle?”
Quinn thought quickly. He and Garrick had left nothing in the SUV but the guns. And it was the one they’d rented under one of their many aliases. The one they’d bought was safely parked at the house in Howth. “Give our new lord the keys, Garrick.”
Garrick tossed the keys in Sorley’s general direction, where they were caught by one of his guards.
“Down two blocks and across the street,” Quinn said cheerfully. “Just click the fob if you can’t find it. Oh, and, don’t damage the vehicle. It’s a rental.”
Sorley’s mouth twisted sourly, but he nodded at the guard, who immediately left the room with one other. When he looked back at Quinn, he had a grin on his face that was as false as his welcome. “Feel free to stick around, lads. The party will run late tonight. There are plenty of those beautiful women you’re looking for, and there’ll be no shortage of sucking or fucking,” he added with a chuckle.
Quinn matched the grin with one of his own, then stood. “Thank you, my lord. We’ll definitely be staying.” His words were innocuous enough, but there was clear understanding in Sorley’s eyes.
The gauntlet had been thrown. Quinn would be watching his back from here out.
SORLEY WATCHED with hooded eyes as the American intruder strolled out of the house, smiling at the women and greeting Sorley’s own vamps as if he belonged here, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Bastard thought he could steal Sorley’s guns and waltz in like the high king himself. He should have killed him on the spot.
He’d considered it. He’d known the moment that fucking Quinn had entered his house. Asshole thought he was so clever, masking his power. He was strong, no question of that. But Sorley was the damned Lord of Ireland. This was his domain. He had nearly unlimited power at his command and two centuries of learning how to use it against his enemies. And this little puppy thought he could fool Sorley? In his own lair?
Damn, but he hated everything about the American vampire, beginning with the fact that he was American. But his hatred went much deeper than that. Quinn might pretend he was simply an Irish-born lad come back to claim his heritage, but Sorley knew better. He had connections, too, including spies in Kildare who told him everything he needed to know about the bastard, from his Ivy League background to his time with Rajmund in the Northeast. Everything he’d learned convinced him that Quinn was in cahoots with fucking Raphael and his gang. He had no proof, no one who could confirm his suspicions, and he wasn’t likely to get it. Raphael held his secrets closely and his people were slavishly devoted to him. But Sorley had been around a long time, and he could figure things out on his own, even if he hadn’t gone to fucking Harvard like Quinn. The prissy son of a bitch thought he was better than everyone else.
He was about to learn different. Sorley had ruled Ireland for more than 65 years, and Northern Ireland for decades before that. He had friends and allies in places Quinn didn’t even know existed. It wasn’t a question of whether he was going to kill the smug bastard, it was only a question of when.
QUINN DIDN’T STAY long after his little tête-à-tête with Sorley. The Irish lord might have welcomed them publically, but everyone understood they were on probation. There’d be no sharing of secrets tonight, but then, he hadn’t expected anything else. Vampire politics was a long game. Maybe it was because they lived for centuries, and so thought in years instead of days. Or maybe they simply liked to watch their prey twist in the wind. But Quinn had always planned on taking a few weeks to learn everything he needed to know, before he could challenge Sorley. Now that he was here, however, he found he had no tolerance for the long game. He was a disciplined man, but not a patient one. He figured a month at most before he lost what little patience he possessed and decided to confront Sorley and be done with it.
For now, they’d have to mingle with Sorley’s inner circle, which the Howth acquisition would help him do. After all, Quinn couldn’t kill every single vampire in Dublin. When Ireland became his, he’d need at least some of them to run his new territory. Vampires tended to be practical about such matters, switching their loyalty to whichever vampire provided the strength and protection they needed to go about their lives. Only those most loyal to Sorley would have to be eliminated, and they were as likely to die in the final battle, trying to defend him.
But Quinn wasn’t quite ready to play Sorley’s happy underling, yet. It was partly why he’d chosen Howth as his first conquest. It gave him access, but also distance and a semblance of independence. No need to kiss the ring nightly as long as he was well away from Dublin. At least as far as Sorley knew.
Before long, he and Garrick said their farewells, then retrieved the SUV keys, carefully scanning the guard’s mind to be certain there’d be no unpleasant surprises. They finally made it out the front door and were just sucking in a breath of fresh air, when Quinn caught a flash of red hair disappearing along the side of the house.
He froze. Then shook his head. Impossible. How could Eve have snuck her way into Lord Sorley’s lair? Sure, he and Garrick had managed, but they were vampires. She was . . . Oh fuck, she was a beautiful woman. He wondered how closely Sorley’s guards had screened the “food” they’d brought in for the night, and knew the answer. Not very well.
“Wait here,” he told Garrick and took off.
It didn’t take long to find her. But then, she wasn’t exactly hiding. She was cozied up to one of Sorley’s white-collar people, a vampire who, if Quinn recalled correctly, was some sort of accountant who’d been thrilled to be invited to the night’s soiree. He sure as hell didn’t deserve to meet the same end as those two thugs in Howth.
He strode up to the couple and caught the vampire’s attention. “Get lost,” he snarled, putting a punch of power into it. It didn’t take much. The vampire might be a financial genius, which made him valuable, but he had no power to speak of. Hell, he was about to be seduced by a human female. Clearly no one had taught him that it was the vampire who did the seducing.
The vamp’s eyes gleamed briefly red, before widening in recognition. He’d been in the room for Quinn and Sorley’s little sit-down. His hands came up, and he backed away several steps, before spinning about and rapidly disappearing around the back of the house.
Eve turned with a snarl that was far more vampiric than her retreating prey . . . until she saw who it was. “You,” she said, giving him a confused look. “What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, that’s my question, sweetheart. I was invited. How about you?”
“I was dinner,” she answered, sounding a little defensive as she brushed her top off with nervous little jerks. She looked up suddenly and gave him a narrow look. “Wait. Why were you invited? You’re not their usual taste.”
“Cute. I’m here to negotiate a business deal with Orrin Sorley.”
“Business? What kind of business?”
“None of your business, that’s what kind.”
She stared at him. “Do you know what he is? What he does?”
“Yeah, do you?”
“Obviously better than you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Oh, really,” she said. “What are you? Some kind of vamp lover?”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” he said darkly. Hooking a hand around her arm, he hustled her out to the yard where Garrick was waiting. “Look what I found,” he said, meeting his cousin’s curious gaze. “This is Eve. I walked her home the other night. In Howth.”
Garrick’s gaze sharpened knowingly. “Small world,” he commented, then turned to Eve with a welcoming smile. “Nice to meet you, Eve. I’m Garrick, by the way, though my rude cousin didn’t bother to introduce us.”
Eve’s entire body language changed in an instant. She was all sweetness and light as she gave Garrick a polite smile and held out a hand. “A pleasure.”
“Yeah, lots of pleasure all around,” Quinn said sourly. “How’d you get here, Eve?”
She exchanged a commiserating look with Garrick, as if to say they both had to put up with this rude asshole, then turned to Quinn. “Not that it’s your concern, but I took the train.”
“Fine. You can ride back with us.” He hooked her arm, but she jerked it away.
“I have business in Dublin, and I’m not finished.”
“Sure you are. The party’s over.” He didn’t grab her arm again. He wasn’t a fool or a brute. But he used his much bigger body to get her moving in the right direction.
She turned on him with a furious hiss, and he felt the sharp sting of a blade against his abdomen. He looked down in amazement at the small knife she was already disappearing into a hidden sheath between her thighs. “Did you just draw a knife on me? What the fuck, Eve?”
“It’s been a long night, and I’m tired of being manhandled,” she muttered.
“Come on, then,” Garrick interrupted cheerfully, ignoring their hostile interaction. “It’s far too late for a lovely woman like yourself to be taking the train alone, and we’ve plenty of room. Idiot Americans, you know. We got the biggest vehicle we could find. Totally impractical on these narrow Irish roads, but I’m a good driver. Honest.”
Eve’s eyes flashed a warning at Quinn, but she turned to Garrick with another smile. “You’re a sweetheart to worry,” she said, laying on the Irish brogue. “And me a girl you’ve barely met. You’re much nicer than the rumors say.”
“Rumors?” Garrick repeated. “There’re rumors about me?”
She laughed right on cue. The Eve and Garrick Show. What a hoot, Quinn thought sourly, as he followed the happy couple through the gates and onto the street. Realizing he didn’t know where the SUV was parked, he followed his own earlier suggestion to Sorley’s vamps and pressed the key fob, following the sound of the beep to where the guards had parked almost directly in front of the house. It was an oddly reassuring location. If they’d planted a bomb inside, they’d have moved it farther away.
“Keys,” he said, and tossed them to Garrick, who turned just in time for the catch, as Quinn had known he would. Vampire reflexes. “You drive, since you’re so good at it.”
Garrick grinned and went ahead to the driver’s side, while Eve dropped back next to Quinn. “Seriously, Quinn,” she whispered as they walked around to the other side of the SUV. “These are dangerous people you’re dealing with.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that, Eve. It’s kind of what I do.”
“What do you mean? Are you mafia or something?”
Quinn laughed. “Mafia? You’ve been watching too many movies. I’m a lawyer.”
“Even worse,” she muttered.
“Oh, ha ha. I’ve never heard that one before.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
He pulled open the back door of the SUV. “Get in.”
“Why can’t I ride up front?”
“Because I’m riding there. Come on, Eve. It’s late.”
“Obviously, you’re the old cousin,” she said snippily and climbed into the backseat with a flash of pale leg.
Garrick snickered, earning a glare from Quinn that promised payback . . . and had no effect whatsoever. Clearly he was going to have to work on his vampire lord mojo, because it was failing miserably with these two.
THE RIDE BACK TO Howth was a silent one. Eve was regretting the snap decision to lie about how she’d gotten to Dublin. Her only thought at the time had been to give away as little as possible about her investigation, which, by the way, Quinn had completely ruined. She was still fuming about that. She hadn’t believed her luck when she’d realized that the vampire she’d been hustling inside the party was some big money manager for Sorley. Vampires were no different than anyone else when it came to money, especially ill-gotten money, the kind that came from smuggling and who knew what other filthy endeavors. She’d thought to seduce, or threaten, enough information from Sorley’s accountant to disrupt the flow of his cash. She was no super computer genius, but she had some skill. More importantly, she also had a close friend from all the way back in primary school, who now worked for a major financial firm on the Isle of Man. One who was always willing to help a friend out for a small fee. A very small fee in Eve’s case, since the two of them had raised hell together back in the day.
She’d been well on her way to gaining exactly the info she needed when super-Quinn had rescued her. Or maybe he’d been rescuing the vampire from her. Either way, he’d destroyed her best chance yet to fuck with Sorley and his vampire empire. She’d actually held out hope that she could still salvage the night once she got rid of Quinn. The party had still been going strong, and while the accountant was probably running for his life, thanks to a certain interfering busybody, there were still plenty of other vamps she could hustle for information, building on what little she’d gleaned before Quinn interfered.
It hadn’t even occurred to her that Quinn would offer her a ride back to Howth, or that he’d be so insistent she take it. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. He might be irritating with his attempts at controlling her, but he didn’t do any of it just to be an asshole. Everything he’d done so far had been to protect her, to keep her safe. It had been a long time since anyone cared enough to worry about her. It made her want to like him, to worry about him, in turn. It also left her in a bit of a pickle. She’d either had to admit she’d lied about her car—and why the hell had she lied?—or accept the stupid ride and take the damn train back to Dublin.
Which was how she came to be stuck in the backseat with an uncommunicative Quinn sitting in front of her. The few questions she asked, mostly about Quinn’s business and what had brought the two of them to Dublin, were met with few words and cool silence. He didn’t seem like the criminal type, but what did she know? He was a lawyer, and everyone knew they were sneaky at best, outright criminals at worst. Garrick seemed like a nice sort, but whatever relationship the two men had, it was obvious that Quinn was the one making the decisions. She studied his profile by the dash lights of the big SUV. Garrick was friendlier and much easier to get along with, but it was Quinn who intrigued her. She’d always been drawn to demanding men, and God knew Quinn fit that bill. The cranky bastard. Besides, he was so big and fit. And strikingly handsome, even more so now that she had a chance to study him at leisure. When they’d first met the other night, she’d been more concerned with getting rid of him before he realized she’d just killed two vampires.
But now that she’d run into him again—at Orrin Sorley’s house, of all places—she was worried about him. Worried for him. He didn’t seem to realize whom he was dealing with in Orrin Sorley. Didn’t understand what he was dealing with, the monster that Sorley truly was. There were few things and fewer people that she truly cared about anymore. But, for some reason, she felt the need to warn Quinn. He probably wouldn’t listen, but she had to try.
She glanced out the window, surprised at the sight of familiar landmarks. She had to admit that riding back to Howth was a lot nicer in the big SUV than in her small sedan. Or maybe it was just having someone else doing the driving. She wasn’t used to watching the scenery go by.
Garrick drove them to a house in one of Howth’s nicer neighborhoods, an area of big homes with walled-in yards. It was smaller than Sorley’s place back in Dublin, but still large by Howth standards. He pulled through the open gate and stopped. Both men climbed out, with Quinn stepping back to open her door for her, as well.
“What’s this?” she said, frowning. Did they think she was going to join them in some kind of three-way free-for-all? Because that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m going to drive you home. I assumed you’d rather switch seats to ride in front, but you can stay back there if you’d like.”
She scowled at the snide comment, but accepted his proffered hand as she climbed down from the SUV. It was too high, though she’d have been fine if not for the damn Miu-Miu stilettos which she’d worn solely to lure one of Sorley’s vampires—a mission that Quinn had neatly sabotaged with his interfering ways. She lifted one high-heeled foot to the running board below the front passenger seat, trying not to flash Quinn in the process. But before she could do anything else, he caught her around the waist and lifted her onto the seat, as if she weighed nothing. Her heart did that flutter thing again, in appreciation of his strength and gentlemanly ways. Stupid heart. He hadn’t lifted her to be a gentleman. He’d done it because she was taking too long, and he was in a hurry to get rid of her.
“Thank you,” she said nicely. Just because he was churlish, that didn’t mean she had to be. But then she remembered her earlier determination to warn him about Sorley and sighed. This could be her only chance for a private conversation. He might not listen, or he might brush off her concerns as craziness. But at least she could sleep at night knowing she’d tried. Well, at least as well as she ever did. She didn’t sleep much after dark, too aware that any day the vampires might figure out what she was doing and come after her. She had no illusions about the odds of her survival in that case.
She waited until they’d left Quinn’s neighborhood behind, with the lights of the harbor shining on their left, then said, “How about a drink?”
QUINN’S EYEBROWS arched in surprise at Eve’s offer. She was up to something. She’d been cool all the way home, talking mostly to Garrick, and now, suddenly, she wanted to stop for a drink? Maybe she’d figured out he was a vampire and was plotting his demise. He wasn’t worried she’d succeed, but he was curious enough to indulge her.
“Sure,” he said evenly. “What’s open this time of night?”
She directed him to a small, crowded pub on a side street that he hadn’t even known existed. He and Garrick really should get to know the ins and outs of Howth. They’d be moving to Dublin very soon, but he’d have people staying in Howth to oversee the smuggling operation. It couldn’t hurt for him to know the town better.
“Where do I park?” he asked her. The streets in this area were old and narrow, and he didn’t see any signs.
“Park in front of any of the closed storefronts. There’s no one to mind, and by the time they’re ready to open, we’ll be long gone.”
Quinn figured she knew the customs, and police patrols, better than he did. And now that they were closer to the pub, he saw more than one vehicle doing exactly what Eve had suggested. He found an empty spot a block down and around a corner. Turning off the engine, he slid out from behind the wheel, then headed around the front of the SUV to help Eve out. But she jumped down before he could get there.
“You’ll break an ankle doing that in those heels.”
She grinned up at him. “They look good, though, don’t they?”
He met her dark eyes and said with deliberate intent, “Very good.” He was close enough to see her blush when she registered the double meaning in his words, hearing the compliment on more than just her shoes. Between the very short skirt and very high heels, she was showing off plenty of pale skin and silky smooth legs. It made him want to spread her out and sink his fangs into her thigh, while his fingers slid into the heat of her pussy, so he could feel the contractions of her body when his bite hit her nervous system. He’d fuck her after that, forcing his cock into her tight, tight body, feeling her resistance soften until she was moaning his name.
Quinn stopped himself from going any further with his fantasy. His cock was already hard and heavy, pushing at the thick fabric of his jeans almost painfully. And the more he thought about her firm thighs and luscious pussy, the more he wanted to throw caution to the wind and simply fuck her.
He reeled it in when they walked into the bar, especially when he realized there were vampires inside. Not everyone was one, not even most. This wasn’t a blood house. But there were enough vampires that he knew this was a regular drinking spot for them. He stayed close to Eve, resting on a possessive hand on her lower back, just enough to make his claim clear to the other vamps, but not enough to provoke a response from his prickly redhead.
But because these were vampires who didn’t know him, he also had to shut down every vamp who thought to challenge him, meeting their glares and giving them the smallest taste of his power. Whether they knew it or not, this was his sector now. Sorley had made it official, but it was his personal power that would make it work. Vampires led from strength, not nepotism or bureaucratic maneuvering. Every vampire he met in this new territory would test his power in one way or another. Most would be subtle, like those in this pub. They’d touch their power to his and immediately look away, acknowledging his superior strength and, thereby, his authority. A very few tried to hold his stare, but they, too, surrendered when his eyes went cold and his power grazed their hearts. Quinn made note of those, knowing he’d have to watch his back over the next few days and weeks. But first, he had a sexy woman to charm.
Eve grabbed a vacant bar stool and climbed up, smiling when she caught him looking. Quinn shrugged. He was a leg man, always had been. Sure, the neck had its advantages for a vampire, especially when you were buried deep in a woman’s body. But nothing beat sinking fang into the femoral artery of a tender thigh. He remained standing while Eve swung her legs demurely beneath the bar. Right. Now, she was a delicate maiden. An hour ago, she’d been hustling vampires to kill.
Quinn boxed her in with one arm on the back of her stool, the other on the bar. He leaned closer, drawn by the delicate trace of her perfume, and underneath it, the delicious scent of warm blood. He wanted to lick her neck, to feel the rush of blood through her veins while her heart raced at his touch. He was hungry, he realized abruptly. Probably too hungry to be toying with Eve, especially since she didn’t yet know he was a vampire. But while her blood was temptation itself, he was no ordinary vampire, not a slave to his body’s desires. He was a vampire lord, with the power and discipline to do whatever it took to protect his people. Maintaining a mask of humanity tested his lust more than his strength. He wanted Eve Connelly, but he needed to know why she was killing his kind, and, especially, if someone had put her up to it. Needed to know if there were other hunters like her stalking Irish vampires, or training to do so. Until then, as far as Eve was concerned, he had to be just another human hustling a beautiful woman.
He drew the attention of the bartender and ordered a couple of pints, his with a side shot of Irish whiskey. Drunk straight up, he preferred scotch whiskey, but the lighter Irish sweetened a pint of ale nicely.
He raised his mug in Eve’s direction. “To Dublin,” he said, wanting to get her talking. She was so set on warning him away from Sorley and from vampires in general. He wanted to know why. He’d have to come up with a permanent solution for her eventually. She’d either have to stop hunting on her own, or he’d have to use his power to persuade her. He couldn’t have a vampire vigilante roaming his new territory. But there was no reason he couldn’t enjoy the time he spent squeezing information out of her. He didn’t fool himself into thinking his interest was purely business, however. He was curious about her personally. Not only because she was sexy as hell, but because she’d somehow found the courage and the strength to take on much bigger vampires and come out on top. Yeah, it bothered him that she was killing his people, but it was remarkable that she hadn’t been fucked the first time she’d tried. Literally fucked and sucked dry.
The woman and the hunter both intrigued him, and he couldn’t have said which one captivated him more.
“So,” he said quietly, his mouth against her ear in the noisy pub. “Vampires, huh?”
His lips warmed against her skin, and she moved away, before turning back to him with a defiant glare.
“They’re real, and your friend Sorley is the head of them in Ireland.”
“Softly, Eve,” he cautioned, aware of the vampire ears listening. “How do you know so much about vampires?”
“Because I’ve seen them kill,” she snarled, suddenly all flashing eyes and fury.
Quinn was intrigued by the raw emotion of her reaction. This wasn’t a job for her, it was personal. But just in case, he asked, “Are you a reporter looking to break the big story?”
“Hardly,” she snorted and took a sip of her ale.
“Well, you’re obviously not a fan, so why hang around Sorley’s place then? Why put yourself at risk like that?”
She was silent for a long moment, staring down at her finger rubbing away the wet circle left on the bar by her glass, and he thought she wasn’t going to answer. But then she said so softly that he could barely hear, “Vampires killed someone I loved.”
He studied her bent head. She still hadn’t looked up. “Someone?” he asked leadingly.
She bit the inside of her lip, then glanced up at him and back down. “My brother, Alan.”
“How do you know—” he asked, but she interrupted angrily.
“I saw them, all right? Two of them. I was meeting Alan down near the port in Dublin and . . . I saw them,” she finished, almost wearily, as if she’d used up all of her anger.
Shit. No wonder she hated vampires. Quinn moved in closer, kissing the top of her head and resting his cheek there briefly, while dropping his arm from the bar stool to her back. “I’m sorry that happened, Eve. I’m even sorrier you had to see it.”
She was quiet for a minute, then straightened abruptly, shoving off his arm to swing around to stare at him, her eyes wide in sudden suspicion. “Damn. You already know about Sorley, don’t you? Here I was, all worried about you getting in deeper than you knew, but you’ve known all along what he was.” Her mug slammed onto the bar top. “And you’re doing business with him anyway,” she said, her voice getting louder. “Why?”
Quinn held up a hand, once again urging her to remain quiet. There were too many vampires in this bar, and the fact that she didn’t seem to recognize their presence made him wonder even more how she’d managed to stay alive. “Softly, lass,” he murmured. “If what you say is true, you might not want to advertise your intentions.” As long as he was with her, she was safe. No one but Sorley himself would dare challenge him by harming a woman he’d claimed publically. But he couldn’t be with her all the time, and, besides, he hadn’t truly claimed her. Yet.
She glared at him, but lowered her voice to an angry whisper. “Answer the question, then. Why do business with a bloody vampire?”
He shrugged. “You said it yourself. He’s a big man in Ireland, and he controls far more than just vampires. Or maybe I should say vampires control altogether more than you think. There are certain . . . transactions in this country that go more smoothly if they’re involved.”
“Oh, right. You’re a lawyer. You’re used to working with scum.”
“I think you’ve definitely been watching too many American movies.”
“Not when you’re sitting there defending doing business with vampires.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you one of them?”
He laughed. “I’d hardly tell you if I was. You’d pull that pretty knife you’ve got hiding between your thighs and murder me in my sleep.”
Her eyes narrowed in irritation, probably wondering how he’d known where she’d hidden the knife. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
He met her eyes bluntly. “I did,” he said, then grinned. “I’m a strong man, Eve, but even I can’t keep it up all night long.”
She sucked in a scowling breath, but didn’t pull away when he bent his head to kiss her. Her lips were full and soft, and pressed determinedly together, her mouth closed. Quinn chuckled and kissed her again, teasing that firm mouth with feathering kisses, his tongue barely touching as he outlined the seam of her lips. His arm tightened around her back, his hand pressing her closer until he could feel the warm weight of her breast against his side.
He trailed a row of nibbling kisses over her soft cheek to her ear. “Kiss me, Eve,” he whispered, and then followed the curve of her jaw back to her mouth. She shivered as her chin lifted and her lips opened on a tremulous sigh. Quinn slid his tongue into her warm mouth, hearing her soft moan of pleasure when her tongue wrapped around his.
Sparks flew. Quinn had never felt anything like it. He hungered for this woman. Not for her blood, although he knew it would be delectable. But for her body. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to possess her in a way that she’d never forget. Wanted every man who came after him to pale in comparison.
“Eve,” he growled.
“Yes.” She grabbed his hand and slipped off the bar stool. He barely managed to leave some money for the drinks, before she tugged him through the crowd and back onto the street. “Leave the car where it is. The shops are closed on Sunday.”
Quinn blinked. He hadn’t been keeping much track of the days. It didn’t matter what day tomorrow was, anyway, because he’d be long gone before sunrise. But she didn’t need to know that.
“Is your flat close?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know exactly where they were. He’d studied the maps before coming to Ireland, and he’d studied them in even more detail since he’d been here. He’d also possessed an innate sense of direction, and always knew where he was relative to where he wanted to be. Which, in the immediate case, was in Eve’s bed.
“Just around the block,” she said, then gave him a condescending glance. “Think you can walk that far?”
Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet, walking forward until she was pressed against the wall of a shuttered store. She needed to learn the dangers of baiting him too far. “Sweetheart,” he said, bending to put his mouth against hers. “I could walk that far and carry you with me.” And then he kissed her. There was no more gentle persuasion, no coaxing her lips open. His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head back as he leaned in, pressing his hard chest against her breasts, covering her mouth with a deep, slow kiss that promised all sorts of dark, erotic pleasures. His lips were sealed against her mouth, his tongue stabbing between her teeth and twisting around hers, as she strained upward wanting more. Quinn was tempted to taste her, just a small nip of her tender lip. But it was too soon for that. If he tasted her now, he’d want more when they finally fucked. He’d want to feed. Reminding himself that he wanted his true nature to remain a secret for now, he pulled back, ending the kiss with a sensuous flourish of his tongue that left her breathless when he finally released her, sliding her down the full length of his body until she stood unsteadily on her sexy heels.
Quinn wanted to laugh, but settled for a grin as she gripped his arms, her breath coming in short gasps and her heart pounding.
“Do you need me to carry you?” He couldn’t resist the teasing question, which got him a narrow-eyed look that lacked her usual fire. He bent down and kissed her lips gently. “Come on, baby, I’ll walk you home.”
She sighed and took his hand, leaning into him as they turned the corner onto her street, not even seeming to notice that he hadn’t needed her to tell him the way. By the time they reached her flat, she’d caught her breath and was no longer relying on him for support. So much so that Quinn wondered if she was going to invite him in, or if she was having second thoughts.
But she never let go of his hand as she unlocked the door, then turned and gazed up at him through her thick lashes. “You want to come in?” she asked, her fingers squeezing his in unconscious nervousness.
He pulled her closer, wrapping their joined hands around the small of her back, as he met her eyes and said softly, “I’d like that.”
She blushed and tugged him over the threshold. “Come on, then.”
It was all the invitation he needed to follow her into the small room. Eve let go of his hand to close and lock the door, then turned to face him. The room was lit by only a single small lamp, but he could see the gold lights in her red hair, the gleam of her dark eyes . . . and the desire when she looked at him. She backed away, dropping layers of clothing as she went.
He didn’t move, simply watched her slow striptease as she continued backing toward a bed in the far corner. He glanced over as her jacket fell to the floor. It wasn’t a very big bed, but it would do. His gaze slid back as she pulled her sweater over her head, baring a black lace bra that barely managed to contain the swell of her breasts. “Fuck. Me,” he whispered. The outfit was pure seduction, he realized, and anger swelled, quickly replaced by fear for her safety. Had she dressed like that to better seduce the vampires she intended to kill? It was a dangerous gamble. It would be only a matter of time before her luck ran out and she was the one killed instead.
“Eve,” he said, intending to warn her, but the look in her eyes stopped him.
“Not tonight, Quinn,” she murmured and flicked the clasp on her bra with one hand. Her breasts were full and creamy smooth, with round, pink areolas and large nipples that stood hard and aroused, begging to be sucked.
“Christ.” He was on her in two long strides, taking her mouth, feeling the crush of her bare breasts against his chest. Wanting to be skin to skin, he let her go long enough to rip his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, then yanked her back against him, lifting her off her feet to take her mouth in a searing kiss. He demanded and she responded, opening her mouth, kissing him as hungrily as he kissed her, their teeth clashing, biting, until he tasted the first drop of her blood when her lip split. He groaned, a deep sound from his gut, as his fangs pushed against his gums, craving release. He wanted to bite her, he lusted after her blood. But she’d run screaming if he bit her, and he wanted her body nearly as badly. With the kind of willpower that it took to be a vampire lord, he forced his fangs back into his gums and, skimming his lips over her neck, lowered his mouth to her chest. Closing his teeth over her clavicle, he felt the delicate bones beneath her skin. So fragile. He could shatter them with a single bite. His teeth only grazed, leaving a mark without breaking the skin. Another taste of her blood would test his control too harshly. Moving downward, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue circling round and round, until the already firm pearl was hard and pulsing with blood. It was one more temptation that had him growling as he switched to the other breast, giving that nipple the same treatment while he continued to pinch the first into aching tenderness, hearing Eve’s groan as her fingers clenched in his hair. Over and over, she cried out, hungry little moans that made his cock pulse with desire.
Her hands left his hair to tug at the rest of her clothing, searching for the zipper on her short skirt. But Quinn couldn’t wait. Sliding his hands up her thighs, he shoved her skirt to her waist and removed the tiny knife she’d secured to her thigh, ripping away the silky black panties that were all she had on underneath. He felt a renewed surge of rage that she’d gone hunting some other vampire in those tiny panties, and with nothing but a fucking pocket knife for defense. His anger was quickly forgotten, however, replaced with lust as his need surged. He took a step forward and threw her on the bed, coming down between her thighs, spreading them wide with his hips as he reached down to lower his zipper and free himself. Her pussy was warm and wet, slick with arousal, as he slid the tip of his cock back and forth between her swollen lips, making sure she was ready for him.
“Do it,” she whispered, reaching down to grasp his erection, lifting her hips to urge him inside.
Quinn snarled and yanked her hand away, stretching both her arms over her head and holding them there with one big hand around her slender wrists. She fought him, but his eyes met hers in a flat stare. Something she saw there made her own gaze soften, even as she gritted her teeth and said, “Get on with it then.”
Quinn’s teeth bared in a vicious grin. His eyes never leaving hers, he flexed his hips and slammed his cock into her body in a single stroke, not stopping until his balls slapped her ass, until he heard her scream of shocked pleasure. He held himself there for a moment, feeling her tissues tremble around him as they adjusted to his thickness, to the hard length of him. She drew a shuddering breath and licked her lips. Quinn leaned down and sucked her tongue into his mouth, kissing her slowly as he began to move, withdrawing an inch, then pushing back inside her. Doing this over and over until her tight sheath relaxed its hold on him, and Eve began make those soft, little moaning sounds again. Desire overwhelmed him as he lifted himself up, pulling his cock nearly all the way out, until only the tip could feel the wet heat of her, and then driving deep inside her again with a powerful thrust that lifted her from the bed. She moaned hungrily, her legs tightening around his waist, her hips lifting to meet his every downward thrust as he reveled in the slick heat of her pussy. He lowered his head to claim her mouth as he plunged in and out, driven by a desire he’d never felt before, wanting to claim her, to mark her as his before vampire and man alike.
When he felt his climax building, felt the tightening in his balls that told him he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer, he reached between their bodies and found the hard nub of her clit, swollen and throbbing with blood. If she’d known he was a vampire, if he’d have been free to take her the way he wanted, he’d have sunk his fangs into her neck at that moment and let the euphoric in his bite send her into a screaming climax. Instead, he rubbed the bundle of nerves between the lips of her sex, slick with arousal as he stroked it against the rough skin of his finger and thumb, until he felt it pulsing against his hold, and then he pinched, grinding it hard as Eve screamed, her hips bucking against his, her back bowed as he slammed himself deep into her pussy and stayed there, feeling his cock jerk as his release flooded her body, holding her tight against his chest as her nails dug into his shoulders.
EVE STRUGGLED TO breathe as Quinn’s full weight collapsed on top of her. She wanted to say something. She should say something. But instead, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, her heart sinking. She was in so much trouble here. She’d thought it would be just sex between them. God knew he had that covered. He was the sexiest, most fuckable man she’d ever met. She’d almost hoped he’d be a lousy lover, but, no. He was a fucking fantastic lover. He was also too smart for his own good, and sometimes even funny. And very protective, in that sexist way that assumed the man always knew what was best. He was a good guy, a nice guy. But she had a feeling he wasn’t a good man. Still, that didn’t seem to matter, because her poor, stupid heart was all warm and fluttery, already half in love with a man who did business with vampires. How could this happen? Her whole life lately was dedicated to getting rid of the worst of those monsters. She sighed. Quinn took it as a plea for air and immediately lifted his body off hers, rolling to one side and pulling her on top of him instead. Not only a great lover, but a considerate one. Damn him.
“Ow.” It was a deep grumble as one long arm reached down and gripped her leg to stop it from moving.
“What?” she asked, and then realized she was still wearing her designer Mary Janes with their sharp, stiletto heels. “Oops.” She sat up and began unbuckling the first strap. “It’s your fault. You’re the one who attacked without letting me get properly undressed.”
“I seem to recall you joining in rather vigorously. Screaming was involved. And I’m fairly certain there’s blood running down my back,” he purred smoothly, his pale blue eyes half-closed as he stared down at her.
Eve shivered with remembered pleasure, heat spreading from her cheeks to her chest. She turned her face away, focusing instead on the other shoe, only to realize she was still wearing her skirt bunched up around her waist. Blushing all over again, she shimmied out of the barelythere piece of clothing, then didn’t know what to do. Should she lie back down on top of him, where he’d put her? Or maybe just stretch out on her belly next to him? That would hide her sexy bits from his too-familiar gaze. But it was a bit late to be shy, wasn’t it?
“Come here,” he growled, deciding for her, as he first pulled her up onto his chest and then rolled her beneath him. “I’m not finished with you.”
Eve felt the hard length of his penis against her thigh and her eyes went wide. She wasn’t exactly experienced, but she’d been with more than one man, and none of them had recovered this quickly. Not even close. She was still digesting that fact when Quinn’s cock slid easily between her arousal-drenched lips and deep into her body.
IT WAS NEARLY dawn when Quinn tucked an exhausted and very well sated Eve beneath the covers on her bed. She grumbled softly, but didn’t wake, one hand reaching to hug her pillow more firmly against her chest. He stroked her soft cheek with the back of his fingers, tempted to do more. But it was late, and he didn’t want to wake her. Didn’t want to explain that he had to leave, had to get back to the safety of the house he shared with Garrick, before the rising sun stole his awareness.
He let himself out, making sure to lock the door securely behind, then used his vampire speed to race the short distance to where the Range Rover was parked. The drive back to the house was an exercise in control as he sped along the narrow streets, pulling into the yard just as the first light of dawn pinked the sky. Quinn had been a vampire for 57 years, a long time in a human life span, but still young for a vampire. His power gave him an edge against the sunrise, enough that someday he’d be able to remain conscious until the sun itself broke the horizon, but not yet.
Garrick had the door open, waiting for him with a grim look on his face. “Too close,” he said harshly.
“I know,” Quinn said, striding inside. “Go ahead, you can lecture me later.” Garrick’s resistance to the sun’s rising was even less than Quinn’s, and he was already stumbling as he made his way down the hall. Quinn watched his cousin go, as he secured the three locks they’d installed on the front door, knowing Garrick would have already checked the safety of the other entrances in anticipation of Quinn’s arrival. That done, he hurried to the interior room they’d set up as their daytime resting place. It held two beds, a table, and a lamp, but nothing else. They didn’t need anything else. When a vampire slept, he had no perception of the world around him. Nothing would wake him until the sun set. Nothing.
Garrick was already out, sprawled bonelessly on the opposite bed. Quinn pulled a comforter up over his cousin, then turned and stripped quickly—he hated waking up in the same clothes—and climbed into bed, pulling his own blankets up. He wouldn’t feel the cold when he slept, but he sure as hell would when he woke.
He thought of Eve, all tousled and pink in her warm bed, and smiled as the sun took him for the day.
EVE WAS DREAMING. She and her brother, Alan, were having a picnic in Phoenix Park, sitting on the same old blanket they always used, eating sandwiches and crisps, laughing at the antics of a pair of Frisbee-catching dogs down the grassy hill. It was a beautiful day in Dublin, with blue skies and a sun so warm that she wished for the sunblock she’d left in the car. Alan applauded a particularly skilled catch by one of the dogs, then rolled over and sat up, his arms linked over his knees, his head cocked and brown eyes serious as he studied her.
He was a handsome man, her brother. Especially when he was relaxed like this, with his muscled arms bare and broad shoulders flexing beneath his T-shirt every time a pretty girl walked by on the path beside them. Eve smiled.
“You look good, Eve. It’s been too long.”
“Too long since what?” she asked around a yawn. The sunshine always made her drowsy.
“Too long since you looked the way you should . . . young, pretty, free.”
Eve’s chest constricted abruptly, as if someone was squeezing her. A cloud rolled over the sun, and she shivered, staring at her brother. “What do you mean?” she whispered, needing to ask, but not wanting to know.
“You weren’t meant for this, love. It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I knew what I was getting into. I knew the risks.”
Eve shook her head violently, her long hair flying as she closed her eyes, rejecting what he was saying. She didn’t want to talk about that. She wanted the sun, the laughing children, the silly dogs.
“Stop, baby girl. Before it’s too late. I never wanted this for you. Stop and be happy.”
Everything began to pale as the dream faded. Eve cried out, reaching for his hand, not ready for their time to be over. When she woke, she was alone, with the pale light of a winter’s morning adding to the chill of her small flat. Tears flooded her eyes unbidden, soaking the pillow she clutched to her face to muffle the sobs, until she drifted back to sleep.