Her palms pressed against his chest, and one of his hands covered them. With the other hand, he continued to explore her lush backside, his fingers brushing her parted cheeks. She was wearing a thong and he found himself burning to know the color. Better yet, burning to yank it away and discard it. He didn’t give a damn what color it was.
“Yes,” he murmured, being crass on purpose. This was about scaring her. About sending her home to be a good girl. “You’d fuck me and pretend you did it to find your friend. But we’d both know better. We’d both know you did it because you want to feel my cock buried deep inside you.”
Her lashes fluttered, her hands moving to his arms, squeezing with force, clinging to him rather than pushing him away. “Stop,” she whispered, her words contrasting her actions. “Please stop.”
“Who are you talking to, Jolene?” he asked, pressing her with the truth. “Me? Or you?” He didn’t give her time to respond, leaning forward and claiming her mouth, feeling the softness of her lips beneath his, tempting him with their sweetness. So much so that he pulled back, not daring to fully taste her, fearful of where it might lead him. Yet he couldn’t back away either. He was still close, too close, their breath mingling, teasing, arousing. The thought of Alex touching her, of anyone inside those clubs having her, drew an odd feeling of protectiveness. One of possessiveness. It angered him. Angered him because it tested his well-guarded control. The control that made him the mighty Slayer he’d always been.
He slid one hand into her hair, a bit rougher now, and forced her to look at him. With the other, he squeezed her ass and pulled her tight against his raging cock. “Are you prepared to fuck Alex? And what of his friends? Will you fuck them?”
Drago stared down at her, waiting for her answer, his gut tight. If she didn’t answer the way he wanted her to, he’d damn sure do whatever it took to make sure she did.
Two
Jolene knew she should push Drago away, but for some reason she couldn’t. Being in this man’s arms, his hard, perfect body pressed close, overwhelmed her with desire. With passion. With some sort of blind yearning to feel more of what he could offer. To give herself to him.
Staring up at Drago, barely able to breathe, his words replayed in her head. Will you fuck Alex?
Drago’s impact on Jolene was nothing shy of molten. His body set hers on fire. But his words . . . his words hit her the hardest, scorching her with their impact, setting her emotions into overdrive. Fear. Anger. Even embarrassment over her out-of-character willingness to be taken by this man. Good Lord, she was losing it because she could barely think straight. She wanted Drago in a bad way. She wanted . . . him inside her.
She bit her bottom lip, fighting her desire to lean into him, to press her mouth to his again. Drago was right. This urge, this need, the molten heat pulsing through her veins, had nothing to do with Carrie. No matter how much she wanted to claim her actions were to protect her friend, that wasn’t the truth. What she felt right now, with Drago, was purely primitive. Lust in a lethal dose.
Whatever the reason she wanted Drago, her desire for him, at least, made what had to be done easier. Jolene had already decided she would sleep with Drago, or anyone else she had to, if it would save Carrie. Sex for the life of the only person she considered family was a small price to pay. With that conclusion, she charged forward, meeting Drago’s challenge head on. He wouldn’t scare her off.
She drew a breath. “I meant what I said.” It pleased her to realize how strong her voice sounded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to save my friend.”
Drago’s fingers brushed the strip of damp silk between her legs, sending darts of pleasure through her body from head to toe. His breath fanned her neck. Her ear. Her mouth. “Anything?” he prodded.
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “I told you,” she said, her tone sharper, tired of his persistence and of her own lack of control with this man. “Whatever it takes.”
A low growl escaped his throat, and she could almost feel his anger at her declaration. She steeled herself for whatever came next, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of heat that followed.
One of his palms slid up her side, his hand cupping her breast, her skin warm everywhere he touched—and everywhere he hadn’t but she wished he would. Through the thin silk of her blouse, he pinched her nipple and, despite her best efforts not to, she moaned with pleasure. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing the sound with a kiss. No. More than a kiss. His tongue slid along hers, deep and probing, stroking her into submission.
Lost to the moment, consumed by primal heat, her arms slid around his neck, her body melting against his. She couldn’t get enough of his taste, his smell, his arms. It wasn’t just him being aggressive anymore, just him taking what he wanted. She took. She wanted. She burned.
Even as she silently asked for more, her hands gliding over his shoulders, he pulled away, distancing himself. Stealing the fantasy and slapping her with a hard dose of reality.
Jolene gasped at the loss of contact, shocked at how cold she felt, how lost. Hugging herself, she shivered, surprised at how intense her reaction was to this man. She could still taste him on her tongue, still feel his hands on her body.
Her gaze lifted to his, and she found him several steps away. He watched her with turbulent, dark eyes that said he, too, was shocked by what had transpired between them.
The longer their contact remained broken, the more reality seeped into her mind. With it, a wave of confusion took hold. No man, or vampire, had ever driven her to such passion as this one, and it rattled her to the core. Needing support, Jolene inched backward, leaning against the wall so that her knees wouldn’t buckle.
“That was a little taste of what Alex’s world will do to you,” Drago promised. “It’ll take and take until you don’t know who you are anymore. Until there’s nothing left.”
Jolene tore her eyes from his and focused on the floor, needing a full disconnect from Drago to pull herself together. She didn’t know why Drago affected her as he did, but it hadn’t been by manipulating her mind. But Carrie could easily be controlled by a vampire.
Heat flooded her cheeks and her head spun. She’d never felt so out of control in her life. Never felt so lost. Well, not since the day her mother had died. Not since that terrible day when she’d had nowhere to turn. Her father always seemed to be out of reach right when she needed him.
“Alex tends to send his women away,” Drago said, not elaborating beyond the implication of the words. “Your friend could be long gone. You could risk yourself for nothing.”
Jolene’s gaze jerked upward at his words, his intentions now clear. He was simply playing a game of cat and mouse, trying to scare her. It wasn’t going to work. “Carrie isn’t gone.”
His brow lifted in challenge, but he said nothing. But then, he didn’t have to. His actions, his facial expression, said it all and she could read between the lines. He either knew or suspected Carrie was . . . dead. Maybe he was even involved. He might be a Slayer, but that didn’t mean he played for the right team.
Anger formed like a spot of expanding blackness, growing bigger by the second. At herself. At this man. At what she’d almost done with a man who could very well be responsible for hurting Carrie. Maybe he wanted to scare her off because he had something to hide.
She pushed off the wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her hands began to shake. Not that it mattered. He was an ancient vampire, without a doubt able to sense her emotions. Well, let him. Hers were raging for sure.
Part of Jolene wanted to charge at him. To hit him. Another part feared what he might do if she did. Somehow her voice came out steady, though low and tense. “Where is Carrie? What have you done with her?”
He walked to the door and yanked it open. “You can’t save her by sacrificing yourself.” His eyes bore into her. “Now, go home where you belong. You’re way over your head here.”
Jolene didn’t know what to do. This man knew ho
w to find Carrie. If she left with no answers, she was back to square one. Anger turned to desperation. She couldn’t lose Carrie. She couldn’t. “Help me. Please.”
“I am,” he said without hesitation. “I’m giving you the best advice of your life. Go home. If Carrie’s alive, she’ll come home to you.”
With those words, hope filled her. “You’ll find her?”
“I said no such thing.”
Her hands balled into fists by her sides. “I can’t leave without answers.”
He gave her a hot perusal, his eyes raking her body with blatant admiration and lust. When his gaze returned to hers, he said, “Alex is no gentleman. Leave now or I’ll stop pretending to be one myself.”
She drew a breath at the glint of danger lurking in the depths of his stare, yet she sensed he was scaring her on purpose. And she sensed she’d pushed his buttons. Pushed beyond a place she should be and she knew it. She didn’t understand how or why, but she had.
She walked toward the door. Toward him. He tracked her steps with a watchful gaze, a hunger in the way he looked at her, the air charged with electricity, with menace. Something had changed in him. He had become more distant. More threatening. And she feared him all right, but not for the reasons she should. She feared him because he stole her control with his presence, with his touch and taste.
She brushed past him, fighting a moan as her arm touched his, her nipples pebbling into tight knots of pleasure and pain. This man infuriated her, yet still she wanted him.
Pausing at the doorway, Jolene eased around to face Drago. Her chin tilted upward in defiance as she opened her mouth to declare her determination, to promise she’d find a way into Purple Magic. But as she started to speak, she decided against it. For some reason, she felt Drago might actually try to stop her from following through with her search for Carrie. Without another word, she left the apartment and entered the hall.
And as she found the stairs, beginning her descent, she could feel Drago watching her, feel him willing her to stay away from Purple Magic. The subtle mental push didn’t go unnoticed, nor did it sit well. She wanted to shove back but fought the urge, reminding herself that he wouldn’t help her, but he might do the opposite. He might become an obstacle. She didn’t know what to make of Drago. Was he one of the mighty Slayers fighting for good over evil, or a Slayer turned dark, fighting against those he’d once served?
Jolene didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter. At this point, Drago was best left behind her. Carrie was another story. She would not leave Carrie behind. She was going to find her best friend and bring her home.
***
Drago walked to the railing and watched Jolene’s departure, cursing because he knew damn well she wasn’t going to leave this thing with Alex alone. Which was exactly why he’d gotten downright foul with her before her departure.
For almost two years now, he’d worked inside Alex’s operation, an elaborate cover woven by the council, painting him as a Slayer who’d turned against them.
Alex had created an underground city filled with his army, all well fed and pleasured. All loyal enough to help Alex challenge the council. Drago’s job was to break into Alex’s sex-club operation and take it down. And he was close. Damn close. Seeing Alex crumble would be sweet reward for months of acting a traitor to his people.
That bartender, a paid servant of Alex, reported to Drago, because he looked at Drago as Alex’s right-hand man. And though Alex hadn’t mentioned Jolene to Drago, that didn’t mean he didn’t know about her. Alex kept secrets even from those close to him.
If Alex knew of Jolene, he damn sure had a plan to get to her. Jolene would most likely be getting that invitation to Purple Magic she wanted, and getting it from Alex. He wouldn’t hesitate to trade Carrie’s return for Jolene’s submission.
“Damn it,” Drago murmured under his breath. There was too much at risk for him to allow one woman to get in the way, but then, she wasn’t just any woman. She was a Slayer’s daughter. And Lord help him, not just any Slayer. A missing Slayer. No one had heard from Riker in months, and the worst was feared.
Even as he heard the warnings in his head, aware he was risking his mission, Drago reached for the door and pulled it shut behind him. Knowing he was going to follow Jolene. At the very least, he needed her address. He couldn’t push aside his need to know more about her. At least until he confirmed she was Riker’s daughter. Yes. He had to follow her for Riker. He ground his teeth. Right. That was a damn good load of crap and he knew it.
Drago took his time descending the stairs, forcing himself to go slow, to fight the urgency pulsing through his veins, driving him to charge forward hard and fast. An urgency he wasn’t accustomed to feeling nor understanding. Women were pleasure. They were to be protected. But he wasn’t a man to be close to anyone. His job was his life, and his life was deadly.
Drago took the final step to ground level, and Jolene was nowhere in sight. But it didn’t matter. Her scent was embedded in his senses now. To find her, to track her, at least at short distances, wouldn’t be difficult, which was why the urgency he felt made no sense.
The woman had gotten under his skin and his body still pulsed with arousal. He’d find her just fine. Forgetting her would be the task. She’d be a babe in a forest full of hungry beasts in one of Alex’s clubs, no matter how strong her vampire side. The vampire males would team up on her, break her down mentally. Then they’d ravish her body, her very existence.
And there would be nothing anyone, not even he, could do about it. The thought of Jolene being possessed by the underground flared fire in his veins. Possessiveness that screamed that she was his mate was quickly shoved aside.
But as adamantly as he rejected the idea that Jolene could be his mate, he also made a vow. Alex would touch her over his dead body.
Three
Jolene walked through her apartment entrance and tossed her keys and purse on the hall table. She ignored the lights and avoided the mirror decorating the wall—she didn’t want to see herself right now. Didn’t want to see the woman who had let down her best friend.
She’d handled the meeting with Drago horribly and left his apartment no closer to finding Carrie than she’d been before the encounter. And though she had no intention of giving up, she couldn’t help but kick herself for foiling what could have been her ticket inside Purple Magic.
Flipping her locks into place, she reached for any measure of control. For the comfort of knowing, at least in her own home, she had security. But lately, no matter how hard she tried to keep life under her thumb, it seemed to steal her breath away. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the door.
“Where are you, Carrie?” she whispered into the darkness, pressing her hand to her face.
Her thoughts went to Drago, and to her behavior with him. What had she been thinking back there in that man’s apartment? She’d let a complete stranger touch her, and worse, she’d done it with Carrie’s life on the line. What kind of person was she to do such a thing?
Drago.
God. He hadn’t actually confirmed his name, yet somehow he’d managed to get his hand up her skirt. She’d completely lost herself in those minutes with him. So much so that it downright frightened her.
She knew vampires were sexual beings, and she was, in fact, half vampire. Until now, she’d simply assumed her sex drive was a human drive. She was raised a human and lived as one. That meant dating human males. To some men, her being half vampire rated as the equivalent to a fantasy ménage with two women. To others, it was as good as saying she was a leper. Often it was simply more than she wanted to deal with.
But tonight, she’d felt every bit the ravenous sexual being of her vampire self. Perhaps her behavior had been a product of her emotional state of mind. The possibility of losing Carrie, as she had lost her mother, scared the hell out of her.
Okay, think. Jolene dropped her hands to her side. She’d blown one opportunity and that was it. One. She’d find another way t
o do this.
And with that thought, she went into action, reaching for the light and kicking off her shoes. Determination burned in her gut as she headed toward Carrie’s room. She didn’t need the police. She didn’t need Drago or whoever he was. Jolene knew about Purple Magic, and she knew entry required a VIP pass. But she’d find a way through that door.
Hell, maybe she’d just walk in and ask for Alex. She’d tried by phone and gotten nowhere, but maybe if she showed up, dressed to kill, she’d get attention.
At this point, Jolene would do whatever it took to find Carrie.
Thirty minutes later, Jolene stood in the center of her best friend’s room and ran a rough hand through her hair, feeling the frustration of no success. Somewhere in this room was a journal that Carrie had written in every single night. Inside it might be answers to where Carrie was now and to where she’d been in the past. Carrie hadn’t taken any of her things. Nothing. That journal was here. It had to be. A thought flashed in her mind. The bathroom. She hadn’t searched there. Carrie loved long, hot baths. A few moments later, Jolene dug through cabinets. In the back of the towels, she found what she hunted for: a red velvet journal . . . a little piece of hope.
Jolene carried it with her to the bed and propped pillows against the wooden headboard before settling against them. With her feet curled to the side, she let out a shaky breath and opened the cover of her friend’s private world. Though she knew this was necessary, she couldn’t help feeling that she was betraying Carrie by invading her privacy. Thumbing through the pages, Jolene focused on the last few entries and started reading.
Tonight I graduated from the Blue Room to the Purple Room. Over the next week I will face my final tests. I will become the dream. The sexual creature that Alex promises will be rewarded. The one he will make his, forever.