Black fury whirled in the man's eyes. "Bitch," he snarled and Skye slid the knife from her pocket and moved back, ready for his attack. His entire body tensed. The need to hurt, to kill, shimmered over him like a second skin. His eyes flickered once again to his watch. He stood, his fist opening and closing in frustrated rage. "Later, bitch. We'll settle this later."
Skye watched him leave. Though his back was turned, she knew that his awareness was centered on her. She was tempted to follow, but let him go. There'd be another chance. She was sure of it.
Minutes passed. Skye went to the door, spoke briefly to the bouncer. Haley's assailant had left in a dark blue Yukon. Alone.
She returned the bar. Took a few minutes to question some of Big Daddy's girls. They were all high and none of them knew anything.
"See you around," she told Sarge.
"Watch your back."
"Always."
Skye timed it so that she walked out with group of people. Every one of her senses was alert to danger, but there was none-or at least no danger that didn't always exist for a woman in the parking lot of a strip joint.
The Harley was parked next to the building, under a light. She checked it over quickly, let her senses flare out to see if it had been tampered with. The bike smelled as it always did-of metal, gas, and leather.
She'd wanted to check out Toppers, but now that she knew there was a connection between Brittany, Amy, Jen and the attack on Haley, it seemed more important to go to Fangs and talk to Haley, probably Kyle, as well. The Harley roared to life and a few minutes later, she made the turn into Fangs.
A long line of people still waited, hoping to get inside. The parking lot was crowded and overflowing. She rode back into the street and down along the row of cars until she found a spot and stopped the bike.
The attack came suddenly. Unexpectedly.
A dark car pulled away from the curb just a few feet from where Skye had parked. It sped up and hit her as she was taking her helmet off. She was thrown into the Harley and bounced back to the pavement. A door opened and the man she'd seen earlier at Bangers jumped out. The stench of tainted blood from inside the car reached her before the end of the heavy pipe he was carrying crashed into her ribs with such force that she couldn't move. Vaguely she heard screams and running footsteps. Somehow she managed to bring her arm up in an effort to deflect the next blow. The pipe struck with a killer's determination. There was a sickening sound as her bone broke. Waves of pain and nausea rushed over her.
"Finish it!" the driver of the car yelled.
The man with the pipe aimed for her head but she managed to move so that it struck her chest again. It became hard to breathe, as though her lungs were rapidly filling with blood. There was the sound of a loud pop and a thud. Through hazy vision she thought she saw her assailant's body land in a heap several feet away. The eyes open in startled death. She was only vaguely aware of tires squealing as a car sped away. Then Gian was crouched over her, his black eyes filled with demon fury and raw power.
Skye felt like she was underwater. Everything around her was moving out of focus. Even the pain was starting to fade. She coughed and her mouth filled with blood. She could smell death. Could feel it. Knew it surrounded her, waited to embrace her.
Death's shadow had trailed her for most of her life. Not as an old friend, but not a foe either.
Gian's eyes burned into hers, tried to pull her into their dark centers. His voice whispered in her mind. Trust me. Come to me willingly.
She fought the compulsion instinctively, habitually-would choose death over powerlessness. But even as she was willing to accept death, the need to survive rose up, brought with it the strength and confidence that had been forged in hell. Wherever this choice led, she would face the challenge and win.
Skye let herself fall into his eyes. Let the blackness of them surround her, flow in and fill her so that there was no thought, no sensation, no existence other than Gian.
* * * * *
Gian could sense Kyle's presence even before the other man knocked. He pulled the sheet over Skye's naked body and called for Kyle to enter the bedroom.
"There was a cop here asking about her," Kyle said, his eyes darkening at the sight of Skye feeding. "He reeked of her."
Gian's face tightened. "Did he leave his name?"
Kyle slipped a business card from his pocket and tossed it on the dresser. "Rico Santana. Detective. He's a dangerous second mate."
"I take responsibility for him."
"Good. We don't need the attention of the police." Kyle's eyes flickered back to Skye. There was a hint of censure in his voice when he said, "You could have easily healed her in one night. Surely you don't think to convert her."
Gian's fangs flashed as he shifted Skye in his arms, pulling her away from the small gash in his chest. She stirred slightly, an instinctive protest, then faded away. "I do what's necessary to keep us all safe, but I am not so foolish as to try and make an Angelini one of us."
Kyle nodded and turned to leave. "You'll come out and replenish yourself?"
"I'll join you shortly."
Kyle hesitated. "My companion worries that you hold her responsible for this. Skye was at Bangers asking about Jen and the other girls."
"I hold Haley harmless. But it would be best if Skye did not pursue this matter further. She is not fully in our world, not fully in my control. Until she is, it would be unwise to forget that Angelini blood flows through her veins. If she finds Jen before we do, she might well kill her."
Kyle nodded. "I will command Haley to stop searching for her sister."
* * * * *
Skye woke slowly. She was naked but not alone, in a room she'd never been in before.
There were no windows and for a terrifying second she flashed back to the part of her childhood that she remembered, to the closets she'd been locked in, to the strange houses she'd been left at, and the people who'd abused her when she was helpless.
But even as her heart sped up in remembered terror, the body next to her shifted and Gian said, "You're awake."
He rose on his elbow and leaned over her. It was pitch-black in the room and yet she could see his outline. That only happened when she hunted, when she allowed herself to become other.
"Can you turn on the light?"
Gian leaned down, brushed his lips along her neck and murmured, "Of course," against her soft skin as he reached past her and turned on a small nightstand light. Its soft glow didn't extend much further than the bed.
She looked up at him. Met his eyes. There was no compulsion in them. No pull. His dark hair formed a silky curtain on either side of his face. His naked chest looked smooth and polished in the soft light, unmarred except for where she'd bitten him. The mark hadn't faded, if anything, it seemed darker. A flicker of memory made her think she'd bitten him again, but she couldn't hold on to the image.
"Your place?" she whispered.
"Yes." Gian lowered his face and pressed his lips against hers. His tongue stroked against the seam of her mouth and she opened for him, welcoming him.
The kiss was gentle, soft. There was no frantic need, just a coming together. A merging of two into one.
When the kiss ended, Skye asked, "How long have I been here?"
"Three days."
She couldn't remember any of it.
She slid away from him and sat up, taking inventory of her body.
There was no pain though her arm was bruised from the wrist to the elbow, the color more yellow now than black.
Her chest was the same.
She ran her hand over her ribs and tried to remember what had been damaged.
Broken arm. Broken ribs. A punctured lung.
Death had been close. She was too familiar with it not to recognize its presence. And yet now there was nothing broken. No pain. And even the bruising was faint. She should have felt weak. And yet she didn't.
"This is amazing. What did you do?"
Amusement flashed briefly in Gian's eyes. His laugh was soft and brushed along her spine like a feather. He moved closer, his chest pressing against her shoulder, his tongue tracing the shape of her ear. "What answer do you want?" He eased her back down onto the bed, trailed kisses to her mouth and stopped, his lips hovering over hers. "The mind is a powerful tool. Maybe that's the best answer for you."
She stared into his dark eyes, tried for a memory of the last three days. There were vague impressions of being awakened, of staring into Gian's eyes as he hovered over her, of hearing his soothing voice as he stroked her throat and forced her to drink something hot and metallic. But there were no concrete memories.
Gian smiled slightly and began stroking her hair. It smelled clean and freshly shampooed. She inhaled, took in the scents around her. There was nothing alarming. Nothing that hinted at death.
Skye thought about the attack. Tried to recover time from that point forward. "What happened to the man who jumped me?"
"I killed him." If there was regret in his voice, it was only because her attacker's death had been quick.
"And the driver?"
"He got away. Did you recognize either of them?"
Gian was watching her intently now, as though her answer was important to him. She wondered if he had been in her mind, knew already what she knew, and was testing her somehow.
"I didn't see the driver's face," she answered cautiously. "I've seen the guy with the pipe before."
Gian continued to study her. She felt it then, a gentle compulsion, a probing, an unheard whisper to share everything with him.
She didn't take her eyes off of him. She needed to understand what price she'd paid for his help.
His expression gave nothing away. The gentle compulsion remained, but was easily ignored. She said, "I need to go back to my apartment."
"Later," he whispered. Then his mouth covered hers in a demanding kiss, a kiss that claimed she belonged to him.
She met his kiss. Ran her hands through his hair and down his sleek, muscled back. Her body arched into his, opened to him, accepted him.
He was forceful, dominant, yet careful to bring only pleasure.
Afterward they showered. He'd been to her apartment and gotten her clothes. She slipped into them before he led her to the door. Skye watched as he keyed in a code, noting the numbers instinctively. The door slid open and exposed a hallway. The sound of music and voices rushed over her and she immediately knew where she was. Fangs.
"You live here?"
"I keep a room here. But I have other places as well."
They walked to the end of the hallway and through another door with a keypad. When this one slid open, they were only a few feet away from where the bartender was busy mixing drinks.
Skye looked at the scene in front of her. As usual, the club was packed.
She spotted her young friends at a table near the dance floor. Mike looked up and motioned her over. Gian grabbed her arm as she started to step away. "Join us after you talk to them." He nodded toward the table where Haley and Kyle already sat.
It was more of an order than a request. Skye hesitated before she answered, mentally balancing what she owed him for saving her life against what she'd tolerate in a relationship with him. "I'll stop by before I head home," she promised casually.
Gian's eyes darkened and the flame in their centers flared up. She braced herself, waiting to see if he'd try and press his mind on her, force his will on her. He went still, studying her as though he was contemplating a chess move. Finally his lips quirked up and he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. "See you in a little while, then."
Skye relaxed. "Okay."
"Hey, where've you been?" Mike asked as soon as Skye joined them at their table. "There's been this rumor going around in one of the chat rooms about some vamp's girlfriend getting attacked right outside the club."
"Only nobody we've talked to actually saw anything and nobody knows any details," Dawn added. "And Mike even looked for it in the newspaper. There wasn't anything about it."
Candy joined in. "But we were starting to get a little freaked. I mean, nobody's seen you or Gian in, like, days." She giggled, "I guess there wasn't anything to worry about. I mean, it looks like you guys have just been into each other and that's why we haven't seen you."
A waitress arrived at the table with a drink for Skye. "It's just orange juice. Straight-up. Gian sent it over."
"Thanks." Skye took the glass, suddenly feeling very thirsty. The waitress moved on to another table.
"So do you know anything about a girl getting attacked?" Mike continued.
Dawn leaned forward and almost whispered. "And what happened to the guy who attached her? I mean, we all know he's dead. No vamp is going to let someone attack his companion and live."
Candy chimed in, "They took a poll in one of the chat rooms. It was almost a tie. Half the people said that if it happened, the vamp was probably so pissed that he killed the guy by breaking his neck or something. The other half said the vamp would have sucked all the guy's blood and killed him that way. That's what I thought. I mean, they probably don't like to waste blood."
Skye was so surprised by the conversation that all she could think to say was, "I'll ask Gian about it."
"That'd be rad," Mike said. "It's, like, totally awesome to have an inside source."
Candy rolled her eyes and told her brother, "Don't let it go to your head."
"Yeah," Dawn agreed. "Since we've been getting into Fangs every night, Mike's, like, become king of the chat room, or something."
"Or something," Dawn said. "It's more like he's become the vampire action reporter. People all over have their computers set up so that when he goes online, they know it. Then they start e-mailing and asking him about the action in the club."
Skye shook her head. "What action?"
Candy giggled. "Well, like how many vamps were here the last time we were here. Which ones look like they've already got regular human companions. Which ones are new. Stuff like that."
"Oh, hey, I almost forgot," Mike said. "We think we saw one of those girls you were asking about. She was in a dark blue car. It came by the other night before they opened the door."
"What day was it?" Skye asked.
"Two or three days ago." Mike shrugged, "I can't remember exactly."
"It was the day after the girl supposedly got attacked," Dawn said. "Remember, we were talking about it with those two girls that always get in. The ones right at the front of the line."
"Oh yeah. You're right," Mike said.
"Do you remember what kind of a car it was?" Skye asked.
"Dark blue. Some kind of SUV. It had tinted windows. They drove by a couple of times. Then they stopped and rolled down a window. One of the girls that's here a lot walked over to the car and started talking. I guess that's why I noticed it at all. I think a guy was driving, but I didn't really pay that much attention to him. And I can't be totally sure it was one of those girls you were asking about."
"It was," Candy said. "Once Mike said something, I thought right away that he was right and she was one of them."
Skye turned in her seat and got the pictures out of her jacket pocket. As soon as she put Amy's picture on the table, both Mike and Candy said, "That's her. Only she's more Goth-looking than in the picture."
"Thanks." Skye slipped the pictures back into her pocket and looked around. "Is the girl she was talking to here?"
They looked around the room. Candy answered, "She wasn't in line earlier. I don't see her. Usually she's here when the door opens. She's a regular. But not like an everyday regular."
Skye sat at the table with them for a while longer, then made her way to Gian's table. As soon as Haley saw her, she nervously clutched at the medallion. Her eyes flicked from Kyle to Skye and back again.
"Did you have a productive visit with your young friends?" Gian asked as Skye slid into the chair next to him.
She took note of the way he worded his question but shrugged and answered casually, "We had a good visit. I'm supposed to ask you if it's true that some vamp's girlfriend got attacked three days ago outside the club. And while I'm at it, they want to know whether the vamp killed the guy outright with physical force or if he drained the blood and killed the guy that way. The poll in their chat room was split about fifty-fifty."
Haley gasped and bit down on her lip. Alarm radiated from her. Gian and Kyle were motionless. Utterly still. Skye sensed that somehow the two men were communicating with each other.
Finally Gian rose to his feet and said, "I need to talk to your young friends." Kyle rose also. "I'll start checking to see how many other people have heard the rumor."
As soon as they walked away, Haley said, "I had to tell Kyle about asking you to find Jen. You've got to stop now. Please."
Skye gave a half-smile. She'd expected this, but she asked anyway. "Why?"
Haley twisted her necklace. "Gian has forbidden it."
"He doesn't have any say in it."
"You don't understand. Please. Stop looking for Jen. If you get hurt again...or killed... Please. Forget I asked you to help."
Skye saw that Haley meant what she said.
"Has Kyle already found Jen?"
"No. No. He'd tell me if he had. He'll keep looking for her."
"I will, too, Haley."
"Gian..."
Skye raised her hand to halt the flow of words. "Doesn't own me. I owe him for saving my life. But he doesn't own me."
Doubt and disbelief warred in Haley's eyes, but she didn't argue.
"I guess you don't have any information to share with me," Skye said.
"No."
"Would you if you did?"
Haley hesitated. Skye could see her struggle for an answer. Finally she whispered, "No. I couldn't. They'd know if I did."