Demon's Kiss

"This prisoner exchange," Topaz said softly, a little while after Jack had finally returned to his room, where she'd been pacing, waiting, nervous and eager and unsure, for most of the night. "Is it some kind of a trap?" She studied Jack's face, his eyes, as she awaited his answer.



Several drones had been left here to guard her. He'd sent them packing as soon as he'd come through the door, though she wasn't convinced they'd really gone. A few of them were probably still lurking in the shadows, keeping a safe distance, outside in the darkness beneath the windows, in the hallways of this place. Probably also posted at every possible exit.



No, not every exit, she thought. There wouldn't be enough of them. She was a vampire, after all. Any window, door or chimney could serve as an exit for her.



Not that she planned to leave tonight. She intended to stick around long enough to learn something valuable about this gang, something she could take back to Reaper, so that he could use it to his advantage. And maybe she could learn a little something about Jack, as well.



He'd prevented her from being killed, had put a halt to her torture. No question, he'd helped her, and probably at no small risk to himself.



The question was, why? Did he have some new con in mind? Was he running some new game on her? Or on someone else?



She wasn't stupid enough to think there could be any other reason. Like that he cared. No, she'd bought into that once already, and it had cost her a half million dollars. She wasn't falling into that trap again. Trusting Jack Heart was like trying to pet a king cobra on the head. Just as foolish, and just as deadly.



He'd returned with a bundled-up towel in one hand, dismissed the drones, and then told her that she would be going back to Reaper's gang tonight, just two hours past sunset.



Now he sank back on the bed, sighing. "I know as much about Gregor's plans as you do, Topaz. You know that."



"Bull. You're his right hand." She was pacing away from him, too nervous to stand still.



"And he no longer trusts me-largely thanks to you, I might add."



"Thanks to me? What did I do?" She turned to face him, made her eyes go round and filled them with innocence.



He didn't fall for it; she could tell by his expression. "Please," he said. "You show up here out of the blue and risk your pretty neck, forcing me to step in between you and disaster like some kind of storybook hero, and you want to know what you did?"



She blinked rapidly. "I showed up here to warn you that your life was in danger, risking my own life to do it. I'm the storybook hero here, Jack. You're the con man who used me, cheated me, left me and doesn't deserve my efforts. You're more like the storybook villain."



"I risked my standing with Gregor to protect you."



"A hero wouldn't be with Gregor in the first place. He's the bad guy, Jack. Or hadn't you noticed?"



He shrugged, but averted his eyes, which was as good as admitting guilt.



She slid her glance to the towel he still held in one hand. Something was inside, but she had no idea what and didn't want to ask, because she thought that was what he wanted her to do. "So what's going to happen at this prisoner exchange tomorrow night?" she asked instead.



"I don't know. I swear to you, Topaz, I honestly don't know. If I did, I would tell you."



"Hmmph. Only if it benefited you in some way."



He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, he was patting the spot beside him on the bed. "Come on. Get in."



She crossed her arms over her chest, pursed her lips and shook her head firmly. "I don't think so."



"Why not? You afraid of me? Or yourself?"



"Neither. I just know us both too well. Having sex with you right now-"



"Is exactly what you want, and you know it. You've had it on your mind since before you even got here." Again he patted the spot beside him on the bed.



She turned her back to him. "I have not," she said. But it was a lie.



"Yes, you have. Look at the way you dressed for the occasion. If those aren't the clothes of a woman bent on seduction, I don't know what could be. I know women, hon. And I know you."



She didn't face him. "You're so damn full of yourself, aren't you? So sure I'm dying to get back into your arms."



He was off the bed before she was sure he'd moved, coming up behind her, sliding those aforementioned arms around her, pulling her body back against his, nuzzling her neck.



"Aren't you?" he asked. "Tell the truth, Topaz. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm as eager as you are."



Her eyes fell closed as a shuddering sigh stammered from her lungs. "The truth is, you broke my heart, and I let you. I fell for you, even though I knew better. I let myself love you, even though you never said you loved me, too. Acted like it, played the role, but you never said the words. That should have told me all I needed to know, but I refused to listen. I'm not going to let you get to me like that again, Jack. Not now. Not ever."



"All right." He kissed her neck, her shoulder, pushing the neckline of her dress aside to get to them. She shivered. His fingers caressed her collarbones.



"And I want my money back, and I'm going to keep my head long enough to get it."



"It's on the bed, Topaz."



She stiffened as the words sank in. Then she stepped away from his embrace and turned to stare, first at him, then at the towel he'd left on the bed.



"Go on, take a look. See for yourself," he said.



She barely knew what to think. Swallowing hard, she opened the bundle and peered inside. Stacks of bills, neatly wrapped, were haphazardly piled inside.



"I'm sorry that I can only give you the half that I kept for myself. I honestly don't know what to do about the half I gave to Gregor," he told her.



The part of her that still loved him damn near whispered, That's okay, baby. This is enough. More than enough. But she bit her lip before that part could speak. Then she bitch-slapped it into a corner and called on the part of her he had burned instead.



"I want it all," she told him. "You stole it. What you did with it afterward doesn't negate the fact that you stole it. Therefore, you owe it to me. All of it. And I want it, Jack."



"I want you," he said. He moved closer, slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck again.



She closed her eyes and tipped her head sideways to give him more neck to nibble. It felt so incredibly good. But dammit, if she let him make love to her, it would be all over. She knew it. She would fall for him again, even knowing he didn't feel the same and never would. It was a world of hurting just waiting to happen, and she wanted no part of it.



"I can't. I can't put myself through that kind of pain again, Jack. As much as I want you, I just can't."



He sighed, but he backed off. Kept his arms around her, but stopped the kissing and caressing, which left her wanting it back again. He turned her toward the bed, urged her closer. "I wasted so much time running around with the boss that tonight, there's probably no time anyway. It'll be dawn soon." He glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes or so."



"Oh." She was relieved. Surely she could keep her willpower strong for twenty minutes.



"We have to stay here, together, just to make sure Gregor believes the bill of goods we're selling him. And there's only the one bed."



"Yes, I see that."



"I'll keep my hands to myself, I promise." He held up one hand, making a Scout's-honor gesture.



She pressed her lips together, but finally nodded. "All right." And without another word or look, she marched to the bed, peeled back the covers and crawled inside, still fully clothed. She tucked the bundle of money underneath her side of the bed.



"You're not getting undressed?" he asked.



She made a face at him.



He shrugged and pulled off his jeans, then his shirt, leaving him garbed only in boxers and socks. He looked good. As good as she had remembered, or maybe even better. So long and lean. She'd loved that about him right from the start. Everything about him was long and lean, even his fingers. Elegant fingers. The fingers of a musician, he had. And God, they were so talented when it came to playing her.



She closed her eyes and averted her face so he wouldn't see the blatant hunger in it as he approached the bed.



He climbed in beside her, stretched his arms over his head and yawned, then lay down on his back. She was lying on her side, facing away from him, longing with every cell in her body to roll over, wrap her arms around his waist and lay her head on his chest, the way she used to.



But that would lead to more. And more would lead to pain.



Although maybe avoiding all that wasn't going to do any good at all, because the pain was already there, gnawing a hole in her chest like a rat chewing through a wall. Hot tears welled in her eyes, and her throat constricted, until she had to force herself not to suck in a choking sob or two.



Dammit. Why did it hurt so much to be this close to him?



"Topaz?" he said.



"Hmm?" She didn't dare say more in answer. Any more and he would hear the tears in her voice, choking her.



"For whatever it might be worth, I'm sorry."



She blinked. "For what, exactly?"



She felt the bed move as he shrugged. "Everything. Leading you on, taking your money. Using you, conning you, tricking you. Leaving you."



She thinned her lips as she let the words make their way through her ears to her brain, trying to block them from entering her heart. "Why are you sorry? It's what you do, after all."



"It was different with you."



She was quiet for a long moment. Anger built. She wanted so badly to believe that, but she wasn't quite that stupid.



"I honestly think there was something real between us, Topaz," he went on. "Or could have been, if I'd-"



She sat up in the bed so suddenly that he went silent in surprise. Then, with a tug, she yanked the covers off him, leaving only a sheet, slid to the floor, grabbed two pillows under her other arm and strode across the bedroom. Blankets dragged behind her like a bridal train.



"Where are you going? What did I say?" He was sitting up now, but he didn't get out of the bed.



"If you have any respect for me at all, Jack-even a crumb of it-don't insult me by starting the con all over. You never felt a thing for me. Don't try to tell me you did."



"But-"



"I can forgive you. Maybe. In time, and only if you return the rest of the money. But I damn well can't forgive what you did if you keep right on trying to do it. I'm not going to fall for it again, Jack. So just...just don't bother, okay?"



He couldn't meet her eyes. "I wasn't. I really wasn't."



"Bullshit. I want my money. Period."



She slung the pillows into a pile in the corner of the floor, then spread the blankets over them. When she finished, she crawled in, lying on top of one blanket and beneath another, which she yanked up to her shoulders before turning on her side, facing away from him and closing her eyes.



"I'll try to get you the rest of your money."



"I'll believe it when I see it."



"I mean it. I will try. I just...don't know if it's possible. Gregor has a safe, and shit, I gave you half."



"Good for you. I want it all."



"Can I have a blanket?"



"No."



She heard him sigh, heard the mattress move with his weight as he lay back down, and congratulated herself on her resolve and her willpower.



Thank God she wouldn't have to be here long, though. She wasn't certain she could make it last.



That thought led to another, as she returned to her original concern: the prisoner exchange that was to take place tonight, and the question of whether it was legitimate or some kind of a trap.



She didn't like Gregor. What she knew of him, what she'd seen and sensed about him, told her all she needed to know. He was a bad apple. And he wasn't to be trusted.



Sadly, neither was Jack. She was frightened about what was going to happen tonight. She was frightened for Reaper, for Roxy, for Seth and Vixen. She was even frightened for Jack. And, a little bit, for herself.



She wished she knew what to expect.



When Vixen returned to the van to bed down for the day sleep, Seth wasn't there. She didn't know where he had gone, and there was very little time to search for him. Thinking he would come back before sunrise, which was only moments away, she burrowed into the covers, and got comfy and warm.



It had been a great run. She'd danced and jumped and chased her tail, hunted field mice and snatched a butterfly from midair, catching it between her paws. She'd relished her time in the wild, even though it had been brief. She couldn't sustain her fox form for very long anymore, and she wondered if someday she would be unable to shift at all. It seemed to be getting harder.



Her run hadn't helped her to better understand anything, though. Not her own odd feelings, not Seth's. But it helped her to know that none of it mattered. All that mattered was being alive and relishing that life. No matter what it was or what it brought.



And that was what she intended to do.



It got harder, though, as the sun rose, and her eyes grew heavy and the day sleep crept over her. Because she realized that Seth hadn't returned, and a feeling of darkness and hurt came into her heart.



The sun set, and Seth rose, stiff and uncomfortable from spending the entire day on the hard concrete floor of the warehouse. Not wanting to explain to his nosy comrades why he wasn't with Vixen after all the preparations they'd seen him making, he'd opted to duck into a hidey-hole he'd found for himself. It was a tiny, unfinished room off the rear of one of the large areas and had probably once been a place to store tools, if the shelves along the walls were anything to go by. It was dark, and it was cold and the floor and walls were hard. Perfect to suit his mood.



He probably needed to think this thing through a bit, but he was damned if he even knew where to begin. What the hell was he supposed to think, anyway? Why hadn't she told him? Didn't she think her being part animal was something he would have wanted to know?



He covered his head with his forearms and moaned.



"Seth?"



Lowering the arms, he lifted his head, almost groaning again at the interruption. He'd been getting ready for a full-blown self-pity party. "In here, Reaper."



Reaper ducked into the tiny room, its doorway, sans door, barely wide enough to admit him. "What the hell are you doing in here?"



"I was sleeping. Now I'm waking."



Reaper looked him up and down, and Seth could see the questions in his eyes. To Reap's benefit, though, he didn't ask. Instead, he extended a hand. Seth took it, and Reaper tugged him up onto his feet. "Things didn't go so well last night, I take it."



"I don't want to talk about it."



"I didn't ask you to. She's, uh, looking for you, though."



"She can keep looking. What time is it?"



"Almost seven-thirty."



"And we need to hit that club by nine. Let's focus on that, then. Where's Roxy?"



"She sneaked out for coffee, predawn. Now she's sitting on a tree stump outside, drinking it."



"I think I'll join her."



Reaper frowned at him, not understanding.



"Just do me a favor and tell Vixen to get ready for the night, and that we have very little time for...anything else."



"You want me to buy you some time before you have to talk to her."



"Bingo."



"You sure you don't want to talk about this, Seth?"



"With you? Yeah, I'm sure."



Reaper lifted his brows, looking wounded.



"Well, hell, pal, you're not exactly an expert on women, are you? Much less relationships. Or was that someone else who's been insisting he's a loner since the day I met him?"



Licking his lips, Reaper nodded. "I guess you have a point." Then he shrugged. "Roxy's probably a much better choice. Go out the front. You'll sense her right away."



Nodding, Seth clapped his friend-and yes, he realized, he did think of Reaper as a friend, though he doubted Reaper would call him one-on the shoulder, and moved past him and through the narrow doorway into the larger room, then crossed it and headed out the front door.



The early evening air hit him with a blast of freshness and floral scents that he hadn't noticed the night before. Of course, it had been nearly dawn then, and he'd been pursuing a half-vampiress, half-fox through the grasses.



It was dark enough that the stars were already starting to appear here and there in the sky. He moved a few paces away from the warehouse, then stopped and stood there, scenting the air, feeling for Roxy.



He didn't pick up on her until she cleared her throat to let him know where she was. Then he turned in that direction and spotted her, sitting on a fallen log, not a stump, holding a cup between her palms. He should have smelled that fragrant steam, even if he didn't sense her presence. Damn, he must be even more distracted than he'd thought.



"Don't kick yourself, hon," Roxy said. "I'm blocking."



"Doing a hell of a job of it," he said, walking toward her. "For a mortal."



She shrugged. "Been perfecting my skills for a long time. And I didn't want to give our position away to the bad guys. Not that they know me from Adam, but a Chosen in the area might be enough to make them curious."



"Good call." He reached her, but remained standing, rather than taking a seat beside her on the log.



She stared up at him for a long moment, then nodded sagely. "So you've had time to knock things around in your brain now. About Vixen's secret."



He pursed his lips, nodded twice.



"Pretty freakin' amazing, isn't it?"



"It's fucking horrifying, is what it is."



Roxy sipped her coffee, her placid expression never changing as she watched him. He pushed a hand through his hair, paced away from her, paced back again. She sipped and waited.



"I just...I don't know what the hell to make of this. I mean, did I...is she an animal or a human or...what the hell is she?"



Roxy grinned. "Worried you committed bestiality, huh?"



"Don't even joke about that!"



Her smile faded, but the twinkle remained in her eyes. It pissed him off no end that she was amused by his discomfort. "This is serious, Roxy."



"I know it is-to you, because you're making it into a federal case. But it shouldn't be. You need to get the hell over yourself, Seth. So she's a shape-shifter, or was, before she was changed over. Now she's a vampire. Just like you."



"A vampire who can change into a fox!"



Roxy shrugged. "I've heard of a few who can change into bats, or ravens or wolves. Why not a fox?"



He shot her a look, his eyes wide. "Really? I thought that was just, you know, fiction. Like the crosses and the garlic."



"Shows just how much you know, Einstein." She shrugged. "You're just a fledgling. You don't know shit about anything yet. The truly ancient ones, one or two of them, at least, can change their forms."



He nodded, mulling on that for a moment. "Still," he said, "those are ordinary vampires. They got older and more powerful until they acquired the ability to change. She's brand-new, just changed over. I think she was shape-shifting before she was ever undead."



"Well, duh," Roxy said. "And that makes a difference why?"



"Because I don't know if she's a woman or a fox, that's why."



"I told you, she's a vampire. Maybe not an ordinary one, but I've never really thought there was any such thing as an ordinary vampire, myself."



He shook his head. "I don't know what to make of this."



"Maybe if I kick you in the balls-"



He shot her a look. She bit her lip and started over. "Talk to her, Seth. Talk to her, let her tell you who she is, who she was before and who she is now. She can tell you all you need to know if you'll get off your high horse and listen."



He clenched his jaw. "I don't know. She should have told me before this."



"Yeah, maybe. But she's still figuring out what's, well, polite and what's not. I get the feeling she's spent her life avoiding relationships-maybe avoiding other humans altogether. And she hasn't been a vampire all that long. Just yank the stick out of your ass and give her a chance."



He sighed, stared off into the distance for a long moment, then faced Roxy again. "We should be getting ready to head to the club, for the rendezvous."



"We?"



"Well, yeah."



"No, you're wrong, hon. Reaper's going alone, just as Gregor instructed. He's taking Briar along, of course, but no one else. He doesn't want any of us hurt, in case it's a trap."



Seth forgot his own issues and turned back toward the warehouse. "He can't do that."



"He already has. Probably left right after he sent you out here to me."



He ran back inside, flung open the door and shouted for Reaper, but there was no answer, and no sense of him anywhere near. "Dammit."



Vixen came out of nowhere, hurrying toward him, but stopped a few feet short, seeming uncertain. Her eyes searched his face, full of questions, but aloud she only said, "What's wrong?"



"Reaper went to the rendezvous alone."



"Oh." She took two steps closer. "I'm sure he'll be fine."



"Of course he'll be fine." Roxy had come inside behind Seth, silent as a cat, and now she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself, even more than them, of what she was saying. "He's been working alone for a long time now."



"He's got Briar with him," Seth pointed out, he thought unnecessarily. "Even if Gregor doesn't spring some kind of a death trap on him, that bitch is liable to get him killed." He turned in a slow circle, then stopped and said, "We have to go after him."



Roxy was silent. Vixen, though, nodded.



"We should take the van, so there will be room for all of us to get back here," he said, heading for the next room, where they'd parked the vehicles. Roxy and Vixen followed, but when he opened the door and saw the van sitting there with its back doors open, and the cozy nest of blankets and pillows inside, he remembered the night before, the night with Vixen, and went still.



Roxy moved past him, heading around to the driver's door. "Stow the blankets, close that up and get in."



Seth took a single step toward the rear of the van, but Vixen stopped him cold with nothing more than a hand on his forearm.



"Where did you sleep?"



He turned slowly, to look at her. "I...we don't have time for this right now, Vixen."



"Why didn't you wait for me?"



He drew a breath and decided to get it over with. "I followed you when you ran off. I was worried. I...I saw."



Her eyes widened, and she backed up a step, perhaps involuntarily. "You...saw?"



"Yeah. I saw you change, okay? I know what you are."



"What I am."



He nodded.



"And just what is it you think I am, Seth?"



He lowered his head, shook it rapidly from side to side. "I don't know, I just know it's not...natural."



"And being a vampire is?"



"Of course it is. We've existed almost forever."



"Shape-shifters have existed just as long. Maybe longer. We're just as natural. But I suppose you don't see it that way."



He didn't answer, couldn't just then. Her words were coming out coarsely, as if her throat was tight, and there was moisture pooling in her eyes.



"You're repulsed by me now, aren't you, Seth?"



Again he didn't answer.



The van's horn sounded, making them both jump.



Vixen turned and climbed into the back of the van, pulling the doors closed behind her. Seth caught them just before they closed all the way. "Look, we need to talk about this. Just not now."



"Just not ever. If I repulse you, obviously you no longer want me. And it was only sex, after all. If we don't have that, we don't have anything."



He glimpsed her tears spilling over just before she shoved his hand off the door and yanked it closed.



He felt bad, mean, even sorry. And hurt by her words. But he wasn't so naive that he didn't realize she might be lashing out, returning pain for pain. He'd clearly hurt her, after all.



The front passenger door swung open. Roxy called, "Get in, Romeo."



Sighing, he obeyed.



"Nice job," she said, with a nod toward the back, where Vixen was angrily folding blankets and stowing them in the compartments beneath the floor, tears streaming down her face.



He'd never seen her cry before. "Yeah," he said, "I know."