Where Darkness Lives Page 5

  “Handcuffs?” She pretended his light touch wasn’t sending molten need through her veins. “Do you need restraints to acquire your dates? Or to keep them from escaping?”

  He lifted her fingers to his lips. “Someday very soon I’ll show you exactly what I do with them.”

  With a low groan she snatched her hand away. In a minute she was going to be knocking aside the table and crawling over him like a sex-starved harpy.

  “So why do you want me to host a party?”

  He shrugged, the amusement lingering in his eyes. “It’s the most convenient way to gather all your neighbors at one time so I can question them.”

  “You think they’ll confess to being a homicidal maniac over apple martinis?”

  “It’s easier to read people when they’re in a group,” he explained. “If I do door-to-door interviews they’ll be on guard.”

  “No shit,” she muttered, her gaze skimming over the heavy muscles of his chest.

  Even dressed he would be the sort of unannounced visitor who would make her neighbors hide under their bed and call the cops.

  His smile widened. “This way they’ll feel more comfortable.”

  “And more likely to give something away?”

  “That’s the hope.”

  She had to admit it made sense, she acknowledged, rising to her feet.

  As he said, her neighbors were more likely to let down their guard during the course of a party. Especially if she could score a bottle of nectar from Troy. A few drops in her guests’ drinks and their inhibitions would be lowered. Perhaps not to the point of revealing their most intimate secrets, but they would be more inclined to “share.”

  “Fine.” She cleared her throat as he straightened, his muscles rippling in the afternoon sunlight that slanted through the glass wall. “I’ll send out the invitations.”

  “You aren’t really going to serve apple martinis, are you?” he demanded, moving to stand way too close.

  “How am I supposed to explain your presence?” she abruptly demanded.

  “I’m your latest lover, of course.”

  She snorted at his ready suggestion. “You could be my brother. Or the pool boy.”

  His hand lifted to skim along her hairline, following the curve of her ear.

  “I’m not nearly pretty enough to be the pool boy, and we don’t want to shock the natives if I happen to do this in front of them.”

  A part of her knew a kiss was coming. She also knew she could halt it by taking a simple step backward. Instead she tilted back her head to meet his descending mouth, her lips parting in invitation to the deep, hungry kiss.

  He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as their tongues tangled in a silent dance of mutual need.

  An enthralling pleasure blasted through her, making her arch against his hardening cock as her hands ran a restless path over his powerful back.

  He was so deliciously warm.

  And male.

  Starkly, unapologetically male.

  The kiss deepened as she rubbed her aching breasts against his bare chest, her blood on fire with the need to feel him plunging deep inside her body.

  As if sensing her desperate desire, his hands skimmed up the curve of her waist, cupping her breasts to tease her sensitive nipples with his thumbs.

  She growled her approval, arching toward his insistent caresses as her hands slid beneath the satin boxers to cup the hard muscles of his perfect ass.

  Laughing softly he nipped at her lower lip before whispering against her mouth.

  “This isn’t at all brotherly.”

  Busy thanking the gods that she wasn’t related to this intensely sexy Were, Sophia was taken off guard as a brick was tossed through the window over the sink.

  They both stiffened in shock, but Luc swiftly recovered and was immediately out of her arms and sprinting toward the French doors leading onto the back patio.

  Sophia felt a brief flare of fear at the realization he was unarmed as he charged after the trespasser only to grimace as the backlash of his power sizzled through the air. Even without shifting there were few demons who could match his strength.

  And if he went wolf . . .

  Well, she pitied anyone stupid enough to stand in his path.

  Of course, a silver bullet could bring down the mightiest Were, an anxious voice whispered in the back of her mind.

  A voice she hastily squashed.

  Luc could take care of himself. She refused to even consider the thought of him being hurt.

  Clenching her hands, she turned her attention toward the shards of glass littered across her floor.

  Dammit to hell.

  What was it with people busting her windows lately?

  They were not only a pain in the ass to replace, but they left a mess that she was in no mood to clean.

  Picking her way over the glittering shards, Sophia reached to pluck the brick from the sink, not at all surprised to find a note scribbled on the back.

  “Leave or die.”

  Predictable. Tacky. And downright cliché.

  Tossing the brick onto the countertop, she moved to retrieve a broom, sweeping up the broken glass and dumping it in the trash.

  She’d just finished when Luc returned, his eyes glowing with the fury of his wolf.

  “Anything?” she demanded, although she already knew the answer.

  “No,” he growled, his frustration thickening the air until it was difficult to breathe. “Whoever threw the brick had already taken off, and there are too many scents to pick out a specific person.” His jaw knotted as he struggled to leash his emotions. “I do know it wasn’t a human.”

  “How?”

  He moved to pick up the brick, testing its weight as his gaze skimmed the words of warning.

  “Unlike a demon, they would have to be standing in your yard to pitch this through the window. There’s no way they could have escaped before I could catch them.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Then that narrows down the options.”

  “Not far enough.”

  Sensing his self-disgust, Sophia frowned. “What is it?”

  “There’s something off,” he growled.

  “Off?”

  “If someone genuinely wants you dead they don’t warn you,” he muttered, throwing the brick into the trash.

  He was right. She was trained well enough to know that the best assassin was the one who moved through the shadows and struck before their prey ever sensed the danger.

  “The gunshot was genuine enough,” she pointed out, sharing his confusion.

  “So was the bullet.”

  “Yeah, the bastard ruined my desk.”

  “I went back to dig it out.” His expression was grim. “It was silver.”

  She shivered. “I suppose crazy doesn’t always make sense.”

  He looked like he wanted to bite something.

  Hard.

  “What are your plans for the day?” he abruptly demanded.

  She shrugged. “A few hours by the pool and then off to the club.”

  “I’m calling a security firm to install your alarm system.” He prowled toward the door. “Don’t leave without me.”

  * * *

  Ignoring the crowd of drunken females who screeched in wild abandon at the male Were gyrating on the stage, Luc leaned against the carved oak bar and sipped his Cognac.

  No one would blame him for being in a foul mood.

  Not only was he no closer to discovering who was trying to harm Sophia, but he was so tormented by his raging lust he could barely think.

  Mierda.

  This was supposed to be a simple job.

  Get in, fix the problem, and get out.

  That’s what he did.

  He fixed problems.

  But from the instant he’d caught sight of Sophia, the job had gone from simple to simply insane.

  Proving his point, his gaze skimmed over the mingling crowd, landing with unerring accuracy on the golden-haired female who wa
s responsible for his current discomfort.

  She looked exquisitely elegant in a silky ivory pantsuit.

  The jacket was perfectly tailored to her slender frame, the plunging vee neckline revealing the lush curve of her breasts. The pants clung to her long legs before flaring above a pair of three-inch heels.

  Her pale hair was pulled into a smooth knot at the back of her head, the style perfectly designed to rouse his wolf into a near frenzy as he pictured his lips and teeth nuzzling down the length of her neck.

  Wondering what she would do if he tossed her over his shoulder and headed for her office, Luc’s pleasant imaginings were interrupted as he watched a red-haired imp move to stand beside Sophia.

  The tall fey looked a bit like Troy, but his hair was cut short and his far more bulky frame was covered by a black Armani suit instead of spandex. A smile touched his handsome face as he bent down to whisper something in Sophia’s ear.

  A growl trickled from Luc’s throat as his fingers clutched the glass he was holding until it shattered.

  Ignoring the Cognac that spilled over his hand, Luc prowled forward, his gaze locked on the fey who appeared unaware he was toying with death.

  The crowd parted before him, the females giving tiny gasps of nervous excitement as they avidly watched him cross the room. He was indifferent to the stir of interest caused by his tight T-shirt and black slacks and the fluid grace of his movements.

  He had only one thought in his mind.

  Halting directly behind Sophia, he reached around her just as the fey was intending to take her hand. He grabbed the fool’s wrist, barely repressing his urge to crush the bones beneath his fingers.

  “Touch her and I’ll make certain you never use that hand again,” he warned, his voice thick with his wolf.

  “Shit.” Pale green eyes widened as the imp regarded him with a startled alarm. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Luc.”

  “You work here?”

  Releasing his grip on the imp, Luc wrapped his arm possessively around Sophia’s waist, his chin resting on the top of her head.

  “My only job is pleasing Sophia.”

  Holding herself rigid, Sophia covered his hand with hers, covertly allowing her claws to dig into his flesh.

  A tiny warning that she wasn’t pleased by his public claim.

  “We’ll finish our discussion tomorrow, Andrew,” she smoothly promised the wary imp. “My office?”

  “Four o’clock,” the fey murmured, cautiously waiting for Luc’s tiny nod of agreement before backing away and disappearing into the crowd.

  Smart imp.

  He obviously had enough sense not to piss off a Were. Especially not one in heat.

  Of course, a female Were was equally perilous.

  Tugging out of his grasp, Sophia turned to stab him with a furious glare.

  “Are you demented?” she hissed.

  “Odd.” His lips twisted. “That question has been running through my mind with growing frequency.” He nodded toward the fleeing imp. “Who was that?”

  “My liquor distributor, who was giving me a very sweet deal until you came stomping over here like Conan the Barbarian,” she rasped. “What were you doing?”

  Ah, now that was a loaded question.

  For the past centuries Weres hadn’t been jealous creatures. The overriding need to produce children had destroyed the instinct to find that one special companion.

  Was it any wonder he was as baffled as Sophia by his urgent desire to make certain that every male in Chicago understood this woman was his property?

  “Have you considered the fact that you opened this club at the same time you moved into your new house?” he hastily improvised.

  “So?”

  He waved a hand toward the stage where yet another overly pretty Were was stripping off his clothes.

  “So your mysterious stalker might be someone you met here.”

  Her lips tightened, but it was obvious that she was considering his words.

  “And how does pounding your chest and publicly branding me as your latest bimbo help?”

  His brows lifted. “Bimbo?”

  “Don’t push me.”

  He shrugged. “Now everyone knows they have to go through me to get to you.”

  “Great.” She didn’t appear particularly pleased by his logic. “What if they decide to lie low until you leave? Then I’m back to where I started.”

  “But I’m not leaving,” he assured her, moving forward to trace the line of her stubborn jaw. “Not until I’m absolutely certain you’re safe.”

  Perhaps sensing that nothing short of death was going to pry him from her side, she heaved a sigh, her gaze shifting to the horde of females who were studying him with a rapt attention that was intended to be reserved for the entertainment.

  “So much for blending in,” she gave in with a sour frown.

  He smiled, his finger lowering to follow the plunging neckline of her silk jacket.

  “You were right to begin with,” he murmured, his voice thickening as she gave a small shiver of pleasure. “I don’t blend.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The human caterers had arrived precisely at eight to transform the back patio into the predictable cliché of an oriental paradise.

  Paper lanterns were glowing near the pool. Black and red tablecloths covered the long buffet tables that were lined with platters of sushi. And cheesy silk fans had been placed on every chair to be given as party favors.

  Not Sophia’s usual style.

  She preferred champagne and caviar.

  But considering one of her guests was quite likely trying to kill her, this was as good as it was going to get.

  She did, however, manage to get her hands on the nectar she needed, and liberally dousing the drinks of the nymph and her cur lover, as well the vampire, she’d done her best to ensure that the party wasn’t a complete flop.

  Not that it was necessary, she sourly acknowledged, watching the flock of women fluttering around Luc like bees to honey.

  But then, why wouldn’t they flutter?

  He looked like a bronzed god stretched on a lounge chair beside the pool wearing nothing more than a black Speedo that left nothing to the imagination.

  The half dozen female mortals were so enthralled by the sight they were actually kneeling next to the chaise, as if they were worshipping him, while the dark-haired vampire with brown eyes and pale, pale skin had planted her ass on the edge of the chair, leaning forward as if afraid that Luc had missed the pair of boobs she had barely covered in a scarlet bikini.

  Whose stupid idea was it to make this a pool party? she wondered in disgust.

  Oh yeah, hers.

  And why?

  Because of the damned Were who had spent the past four days practically ignoring her.

  Standing near the French doors that led to her kitchen, Sophia heaved out a frustrated sigh.

  She supposed she should be pleased.

  Hadn’t she made it clear she had no intention in sharing her bed? Or her body?

  But after the alarm system had been professionally installed, and Luc had moved into the guest room down the hall, she hadn’t been nearly so relieved as she should have been. And she’d been even less relieved when he began disappearing for hours on end, popping in and out without warning.

  Was he hunting for her mysterious stalker? Or had the fact that there hadn’t been any more attacks given him the excuse to find another woman to ease his lust?

  She told herself she didn’t give a damn even as she’d abruptly decided to hold the party by the pool. Why not show off her new hot pink Dolce and Gabbana bikini? But even as she sent out the invitations she’d suspected that her reasons were a lot less about vanity and a lot more about Luc.

  Stupid werewolf.

  Sipping her apple martini while she imagined the pleasure of shifting so she could more easily rip out the throats of the twits paying homage to the man driving her nuts, Sophia abruptly caught a whiff o
f an approaching nymph.

  Turning her head, she watched the auburn-haired woman with smoke-gray eyes halt at her side.

  Victoria was lushly curved like most nymphs and at the moment was displaying those curves to full advantage in a black strapless one-piece swimsuit that was cut down to her navel.

  The female smiled as her gaze shifted toward Luc. “You never mentioned that you had a lover.”

  Sophia barely swallowed her snarl.

  Get it together, Sophia, she silently chided herself.

  The opportunity to question this female was precisely why she’d agreed to hold this stupid party.

  “My private relations are just that. . . .” She pinned a cold smile to her lips. “Private.”

  “If you wanted privacy then you should never have moved into this neighborhood,” the nymph drawled. “We are incurably curious and far more interested in one another’s lives than our own.”

  “Isn’t that a little pathetic?”

  “Perhaps.” A sly expression crossed the nymph’s pretty face. “Of course, I do understand your reluctance to share. He’s yummy.”

  “Obviously you’re not the only one who thinks so,” Sophia snapped as Kirsten ran a provocative finger down Luc’s bare chest.

  Victoria wrinkled her nose. “That vampire should be staked and left for the sun.”

  Sophia was thinking more along the lines of ripping off her head.

  Quick and easy.

  “Not a big Kirsten fan?” she instead forced herself to ask.

  “She’s a whore.”

  Sophia lifted a brow at the sharp edge in Victoria’s voice. “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”

  “She pretends she has no interest in my Morton, but I’ve seen how she sniffs at him when he’s near.”

  “She’s still a foundling, no doubt she sniffs everything with warm blood.”

  “Really?” The nymph sent Sophia a mocking smile. “Then you don’t mind that she’s currently latched on to Luc?”

  “Of course not.” It was a miracle that the words didn’t choke her. “I trust Luc.”

  Victoria snorted. “Don’t lie. You want to toss the bitch into the barbeque pit and watch her go up in flames.”