Demon's Kiss

Sunset, and as she rose, Vixen battled a feeling of dread and an urge to run that was like nothing she had ever felt before. Reaper had brought Briar into the house where she had begun to feel safe-safer than she'd ever felt around others, mortal or vampire. Safer than she'd ever felt since she'd become what she now was. Seth was a big part of that. She craved him, relished his touch, felt eager, excited and yet tranquil all at once when he was near. But there was more than just Seth and his odd effect on her. There were the others. She'd begun to grow fond of them, to trust them, even. She'd begun to think of this place as a haven, but it wasn't the place, really. It was them, the people-Seth and Reaper and Topaz and Roxy-they were her haven.



But her haven had been ruined, and it felt like a violation.



It occurred to her that she didn't really know these vampires she'd been so close to trusting. Especially Reaper. She never would have imagined him bringing Briar here. Of course, he might be very close to deciding to turn her over to Gregor again-to returning both of them to captivity.



She should run. Every instinct told her that.



And yet she couldn't, because Topaz might pay with her life if she did.



So she rose, and she took her time showering, dressing, fixing her hair, giving the others plenty of opportunity to discuss her fate without her. And then she joined them just in time to hear Seth saying, "We need to know for sure."



"Gregor doesn't strike me as the kind of man to make idle threats," Reaper said.



"Then why don't we sense anything from Topaz?" Seth countered. "If she were in pain, being hurt, we'd feel it."



Reaper pushed a hand through his hair and paced the room.



Stepping into his path, Vixen said, "You can't judge anything from the fact that you don't sense her. You can't read anything from inside that place, I think."



Reaper met her eyes, his own narrowing. "I got that feeling when I was there, but I didn't think such a thing was possible. How can Gregor accomplish it?"



"I don't know. I don't even know for sure that it's true. But I could only sense Seth, feel him, when I was outside. Never when I was within those walls. And yet when I was out, I sensed him constantly, with every fiber of my being."



Seth met her eyes and told her without a word that he felt just as powerfully connected to her.



She held his gaze for a long moment, then tore it away to face Reaper again. "I can find out what's happening to Topaz."



Reaper looked into her eyes, his gaze probing. "You can't risk going back there."



"They won't know. They won't even see me."



"You couldn't even get inside, Vixen."



"Yes, I could."



Reaper studied her, frowning. Seth came to stand beside her, and he was searching her face, too. "How?" he asked.



She swallowed and pursed her lips. "I can't tell you that. Or rather, I won't tell you that. Not now. Maybe not ever. It's my secret to keep. But I can do it."



"Yes," Roxy said. "She can." She smiled at Vixen. "Don't worry, little one. It's not my secret to tell, and I'll take it to my grave, if that's what you want."



Somehow, Vixen believed her.



"Let me go," she said, turning her attention to Reaper again. "I can be back in an hour. I can tell you everything that's going on with her."



Reaper looked at Seth, as if waiting for his approval. Seth shook his head and started to say no, absolutely not; she felt the words spring to his lips before he even spoke, so she spoke first. "I don't know why I'm asking. It's not your decision. I'm going. I'll be back in two hours, at most. I hope you won't do anything until then."



She turned to run toward the door. Seth raced after her, gripped her arm and spun her around. "Vixen, please don't. If they catch you again-"



"They won't."



"But if they do-"



"If they do, you'll come for me." She stared into his eyes, wanting to see in them some confirmation that what she had just said was absolutely true, and unsure why she wanted it. Not just to make her feel safe. In fact, her own safety had very little to do with the unfamiliar longing suffusing her core. "Won't you?"



"You're damn right I will."



She blinked in reaction to his words, spoken with passion, with conviction, without a hint that they might be false. She believed them. She believed he meant it, and meant it just as powerfully as he'd spoken it. Why?



"If you'll let me come with you, I can make sure it won't be necessary, though."



"You can't come with me."



"Vix-"



She stretched and pressed her mouth to his, telling herself it was only to make him stop arguing, but knowing as soon as his arms closed around her that she had other reasons. He kissed her in a way he never had before, almost desperately, and she clung and kissed him back with everything in her, and wondered why she'd never understood the appeal of kissing before. It had seemed a waste of time. Now it seemed like heaven.



Finally she pulled free, turned and ran to the door.



She didn't stop running, either. Not until she was nearly at the enemy mansion, crouching in the woods near its boundaries and sending out her senses to determine whether she'd been followed.



It didn't feel as if she had. So she found a quiet spot, and there she focused her energy, relaxed her body and let it begin to change.



Gregor showed up just slightly after Topaz awoke in her cell. She was unimpressed with the man so far. For a bad-ass leader of a gang of rogues, he didn't look like much. Fit, yeah, but in a stubby way, and his close-cropped red hair showed signs that it had been thinning when he'd been brought over. His cheeks were pockmarked, his eyes pale blue, brows so blond they were almost invisible. He looked like a joke.



And yet she knew he was dangerous.



She'd been giving a lot of thought to Jack's suggestion, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't come up with a better idea.



"It's about time," she said when he used the key to unlock her cell. "If you'd waited any longer, it might have been too late."



"Too late for what?"



She pursed her lips. "No, no way, you've treated me like shit. Fuck you and your entire gang. I've changed my mind."



Gregor shrugged. "Don't play games with me-Topaz, is it?"



She scowled at him. "Who said I'm playing? You think I came here to play? You think I risked my freaking life because I was playing with you?"



"I don't know. I do know that I'm about to find out." He swung the door open wide and motioned her to come out.



She did, but slowly, warily. "I came here with an offering for you, you idiot. A gift, but you don't know the difference between a friend and an enemy."



He lifted his pale, pale brows but kept walking, gripping her arm to tug her along at his side. They rounded a corner, into a larger basement room. On the far side, she saw the stairs that led up to the main house, the ones she couldn't see from her cell. But more importantly, she saw the chair in the middle of the room, with a goon from hell standing on either side of it. There was a coal bucket full of glowing embers on the floor, with an iron poker thrust into it.



"Friends don't usually run away when spotted."



"I ran because I was being chased by some kind of oversized, demi-vamp or something. What are those things, anyway?" He didn't answer, just kept watching her. She sighed and went on. "I came here looking for you, Gregor. How was I supposed to know they worked for you?"



He pushed her into the chair. She sat, and tried not to tremble in fear, tried to keep to her plan. She'd deliberated all night long, but in the end, she'd realized she had no choice but to do as Jack had suggested.



Where the hell was he, anyway? You'd think he would at least show up.



"So why were you looking for me?" Gregor asked, even as he nodded to the goons. One of them moved behind her, grabbed her hands, pulled them back and began tying them way too tightly.



She could tear through that rope. What were they thinking? Then she glimpsed the hot coals and knew. The pain would leave her too weak to break free, probably after the first few minutes. And if she tried beforehand, well, they outnumbered her, so...



"That's a lie, actually," she told him. "I wasn't looking for you, I was looking for Jack."



"Again, I ask you. Why?"



She lowered her eyes. "To warn him. About Reaper."



"And why would you want to do that?"



"That's personal," she said. "Suffice it to say that I don't want to see him hurt. And if he stays with you, he will be."



"By Reaper?"



She nodded. A thug was tying her ankle to the chair leg now. Then he moved to the other one. "Reaper is going to do his best to kill you and everyone else in this gang," she said.



"So far, Topaz, you've told me nothing that I didn't already know." He moved slowly toward the bucket of coals, gripped the handle of the poker.



"You touch me with that thing and, I swear, I will never tell you anything that could help you. I swear to God, one burn-"



"That's up to you, isn't it?" He pulled the poker from the coals. Its tip was glowing cherry red. "When does he plan to attack?"



"It was supposed to have been tonight," she said. "But he won't if he knows I'm here. At least, I think he won't."



He was still moving closer, still studying the tip of the poker. "And how was he planning to attack?"



She blinked rapidly, tried to look away from the poker, but couldn't. "I-I don't know."



He lowered his head as if he were sad, shook it slowly, and moved the poker toward her face, closer and closer, until she could feel the heat searing her skin, even from an inch away.



"All right," she said quickly. The poker's progress stopped, but still it hovered near, too hot. "He hadn't decided yet, but he was leaning toward burning the place while you all rested."



"And how would he manage that? He has to sleep by day, too."



She would be damned before she would mention Roxy. The mortal was the most vulnerable member of the entire group. "He mentioned using some kind of timing device."



He nodded slowly and drew the poker away, but only a little. "Why did you want to warn Jack?"



"I-I c-can't-"



"Why?" He moved the poker closer again. "He stole from you, betrayed you."



"I know. But I-" Her head fell, eyes on her lap. "I still love him," she whispered.



"That's quite an admission."



"That's quite a hot poker," she shot back.



"One more thing, just one more, and then we'll see. And this, my little one, this will tell me all I need to know about your motives. Where are Reaper and your other friends staying?"



She couldn't betray them, not like this. Not when it might mean their lives. If this man knew where they were, he would annihilate them. He would destroy them. As irritating as they were-and as much as she hated to admit it-she cared about them. All of them.



"Hold her head still," Gregor ordered.



And before she could react, huge, meaty hands clapped to either side of her head, smashing her ears, squeezing to the point of pain. Her face tipped up at the whim of those hands, and the poker touched her cheek.



She screamed in pain, even though the red-hot iron only grazed her skin. She could have burst into flames, but didn't. Instead she felt her flesh searing, smelled it, heard the snakelike hiss as glowing metal brushed across her cheek for the space of an instant. It didn't matter. Nothing hurt like a burn, and no one felt pain more acutely than a vampire.



Her agonized scream died away as the drone released his grip on her, and her head sagged forward.



"Where are they staying?" Gregor asked again.



"Nowhere." The word emerged on a whimper of pain. God, it hurt. "Please, please, put something cold on my face."



"Where are they staying?"



"I told you, nowhere. We've just been finding shelter wherever we can at dawn. Sometimes it's in the woods, sometimes an abandoned barn." She gritted her teeth as waves of hurt crashed against her nerve endings, causing her to shiver all over.



"Again," Gregor commanded.



The vamp behind her clamped her head again, and Gregor lifted the poker. But suddenly, the door at the top of the stairs burst open, and Jack leapt from the top of the staircase to the floor, nailing Gregor with two fists clamped together. Gregor stumbled, almost went over sideways but managed to catch himself, and just then a small missile made of copper fur with a white tip seemed to fly from nowhere. When she could focus, Topaz realized it was an animal, a fox, and it had its little jaws clamped around Gregor's wrist. The poker he'd been holding clattered to the floor, and he dropped to his knees, howling in pain.



Topaz gazed up at Jack, unable to take her eyes off him. Her relief, her joy at him actually showing up to help her, was so overblown that it even overwhelmed the excruciating pain.



He wasn't looking at her, though; he was looking at the fox, and Topaz realized he was speaking to it, mentally. She could tell by the intent look in his eyes, by his focus. But he was blocking so no one else would hear. She shot a look at the fox, which seemed for all the world to be listening intently, because it stared at him, ears perked forward, then spun, flicked its tail and shot out of the room like a bolt of lightning. Topaz glimpsed a crack in the stone wall, through which the animal vanished.



And even before she could begin to make sense of any of it, Gregor was on his feet, and two of the goons had Jack by the arms.



He didn't fight them, just smiled and shook his head. "You can let go, or I can rip you apart. Your call." Then he glanced at Gregor, who was brushing the dust from his pants and scowling. "You're already short a few goons, Gregor. You really want to lose two more?"



"I can make others," Gregor said, but he nodded at the drones. They released Jack, who straightened his shirtsleeves.



"Care to explain yourself before I kill you?" Gregor asked.



"What's to explain?"



Gregor grunted, but said nothing.



"She came here to warn us. And you respond by torturing her?"



"I never claimed to be a nice guy," Gregor said.



"No, but at least a loyal one. I've been your right hand. Is this how you repay me? By marking up my woman?"



"Your woman?"



"My woman. She risked everything to warn me. That tells me she can be trusted, and if you were less than an idiot, it would tell you the same."



"All she needs to do to prove herself to me is tell me where Reaper and his band are staying. If she's really on our side, she'll tell us. If not, she's an enemy and will be dealt with as such."



Jack glanced at Topaz. She saw his gaze move to the mark on her cheek, saw him flinch and quickly hide it, and then his eyes met hers, and he spoke to her alone. Tell him.



Never!



Vixen will warn them. She's on her way to do just that, even now, I promise you, they'll be out before he can get to them.



Vixen? Topaz blinked at him, then quickly looked away, because Gregor was looking at them and maybe noticing the exchange. If he wasn't now, he would soon.



"I'm out of patience. Jack, if you can't stand to watch, you'll just have to leave."



"Tell him, Topaz. For God's sake, tell him."



She lowered her head, closed her eyes, wondered when the hell Jack had been able to converse with Vixen, and what the hell had been up with that little fox, and-



And then she paused, her eyes going wide. Fox. Vixen. What the hell?



"Bring me an ax," Gregor commanded.



Topaz brought her head up sharply.



I swear to you, they'll be warned, Jack's voice whispered in her mind.



She sent him a look, then slid her gaze toward Gregor's. "There's an antebellum manor house on a former plantation known as Mariposa-five miles due east of here."



He lifted his brows. "I know it." Then he smiled. "Oh, I know what you're thinking, pretty one. You're thinking you could warn them, mentally, from here just as soon as I leave you alone long enough. But you can't. We've taken precautions. This place is a dead zone. You can't send thoughts through its walls."



"How...how is that possible?"



He sent her a look that said she was an idiot if she thought he would tell her that. Then he nodded to the drones. "Toss her back into the cell."



"Gregor," Jack snapped. "It's enough. I told you she's mine. She's coming upstairs with me. Or I can take her and leave. Your choice."



"We still don't know if we can trust her."



"I'll take responsibility for that," Jack said. "I'll keep her in line. Watch her."



Gregor narrowed his eyes. "She's our only leverage to get Vixen and Briar back."



"Within forty-eight hours, Reaper will be begging you to take Briar back. And Vixen's no great loss."



"Bull. You saw what she did just now. With her abilities, she could be an asset like nothing else."



"Could be, but won't be. She hates you, Gregor, and she'd rather die in captivity than help you. Take my advice. Settle for Briar. Let the little shape-shifter go."



Shape-shifter, Topaz thought. Holy God.



Gregor stood silent for a long moment; then he finally sighed and nodded. "Untie her. Take her where you want, just don't leave the premises with her and don't let her out of your sight. She's your responsibility, Jack. You fuck up, you die. Right after she does."



"The depth of your caring for me is overwhelming," Jack said. "I swear, I'm going to cry if you keep on with the sentimental bullshit."



"Don't even think of betraying me, Jack. I'm not one of your marks. You can't con me."



"Wouldn't even think of trying," Jack said. Then he knelt in front of Topaz, putting his back to Gregor. He bent to untie her ankle and ran his hands over her calf in the process, and though she knew it was probably all for show, for Gregor's sake, damn, it made her shiver all over, just the same.



"I've missed you," he told her. "I hate to admit it, but I have."



"I've...missed you, too," she whispered. It hurt to say it, because it was true. And she knew that in his case it was only a line, spoken by an actor. He was the best actor she'd ever seen.



She had to remember that. He was running a con. Maybe not on her, this time, but she was definitely a part of it. No, this time it was Gregor he was conning, though she wasn't entirely certain why, what he stood to gain from it. There had to be something though. Jack never did anything unless there was something in it for him.



Gregor left, stomping up the stairs to the main part of the house. The drones faded away, as well, and the minute they did, those fingers tenderly caressing her flesh went all business. Jack quickly untied the other leg, then moved behind her to release her hands.



"How bad is the pain?"



"Excruciating," she said, and she wasn't referring entirely to the physical pain of the burn on her face. It was the pain of having to sit there and bear his pretending while hating him, while wishing it was real, while loving him, while wishing he was dead.



Her hands were free. He came around in front of her again, scooped her up and carried her to the stairs.



"You don't have to-"



"It's nothing."



"There's no one here watching you, Jack," she reminded him.



"You can never be too sure about that. Besides, there will be witnesses upstairs. Always are."



She relaxed into his arms, let her head fall against his chest. She was too weak from pain to stand on pride. "What will Gregor do now?"



Jack glanced down at her face, and his eyes seemed to get stuck there for a moment as he strode up the cellar stairs. "My guess is he'll go check out your friends' headquarters, see if you were telling the truth. Don't worry, though, they'll be gone by then. Vixen's probably warning them even as we speak."



"That was Vixen, that little fox?" she asked. "God, Jack, how can that be?"



"It's a great story. I'll tell you in bed, all right?"



She shot her gaze to his again and kept it there as he carried her through the mansion. She probably should have paid attention to the layout of the place, to where the exits were, to what other people they passed on the way. But her observation was limited to noting the ceiling above his head, the glittering crystal chandeliers, the lamps mounted on the walls that resembled old-fashioned gaslights, but which were, in fact, electric.



She noticed that his steps were muffled in some places and guessed the floors were carpeted. She heard the click of his shoes in other rooms and presumed marble or tile or granite.



But mostly, she noticed his eyes. His hair. His face, so beloved to her. And she remembered vividly staring up at it, while he lay on top of her, or down into it when she lay on top of him, making love, time after time.



And she hoped to God he wasn't just teasing about taking her to bed. Because she wanted him. She always had.