“Holy shit! It’s Christopher Daniels, girls!”
Eleanore went stiff in his embrace at the intruding voice and Uriel’s monster instantly reared its ugly head. He felt her begin to try to pull away, and he tightened his grip on her. It was instinctive. She’d awakened something within him; he needed her so badly in that moment, it was everything he could do not to tear the bracelet off of his wrist, wrap his arms around her, and take her to the skies with him until they were alone and he could throw her down onto a rooftop, rip her clothes off, and slake his pain with her pleasure.
She had opened up to him so easily....
Uriel ended the kiss, slowly pulling away enough that he could open his eyes and peer down into hers. He was met with a stark, dark blue gaze and an expression that bespoke of both yearning and fear.
She was shaking as badly as he was. He could see, hear, and smell the effect his kiss had had upon her. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. And now she was frightened because of the people behind them and their dangerous attention. He knew she didn’t want to be seen with him, that she didn’t want to be in the limelight because she believed there were bad men after her. He could see the fear wrap itself around her, chilling the heat he had given her only moments before.
“Oh my God, you’re right,” whispered a second voice. “Chris, I need your John Hancock, man!”
“Dude, do something vampirey for us!” came a third command.
There was a shuffling and giggling sound behind him and Uriel caught the scent of mixed alcohol and undigested onion ring on the breeze.
This was not some innocent little girl in an elevator, flustered and embarrassed. This was an intrusion, as far as he was concerned, and it was hurting Eleanore.
They were drunk. He hated sloppy drunks. His fangs were fully developed now behind his closed lips and he could see the reflection in Eleanore’s eyes when his own gaze began to shift, taking on a reddish, angry hue. His blood began to roar inside his veins. This time, when the growl made its way from his chest to his throat, it was not a growl of desire, but of wrath.
Eleanore’s eyes widened. The color drained from her cheeks.
“Uriel, no—what are you—”
He turned away from her then, and her protest fell short. He focused on the group of teenagers that had gathered behind him. One boy, possibly twenty years old. Three girls. One was the boy’s sister; he could tell by the scent.
All were loaded beyond their ability to stand upright without swaying.
One of the girls had extracted a cell phone from her purse and was clearly switching it to camera mode. Righteous fury for Eleanore’s sake swelled within Uriel.
“Aw, man, you look just like Brakes right now!” the drunk boy exclaimed, pointing at Uriel as his eyes glittered with inebriated brightness. “Britt, get a pic quick! I love vampires, man! Can I have your autograph too?” He was looking down then and feeling the front of his jacket as if he was certain he’d left a paper and pen in a pocket somewhere for just such an occasion.
“So you like vampires?” Uriel asked quietly, his deep voice carrying easily on the cool air of the night. All four of the drunk group seemed to still, as if suddenly unsure.
But then the girl with the camera phone giggled and nodded emphatically as the camera phone’s shutter closed several times, capturing both of their images.
“Absolutely!” she exclaimed. “I would let Jonathan Brakes take a taste of me any day.” She lowered both her phone and her head a touch and gave Uriel an unabashed coy look.
“Really?” Uriel smiled a small smile, turning to fully face the group and finally releasing Eleanore. “Are you certain of that?” he asked then, feeling the strong urge to show her exactly what it would feel like to be eaten by a vampire.
“Oh yes,” the girl breathed.
Uriel grinned then, flashing his fangs.
The girls in the group gasped and the boy backpedaled. “Oh shit!” he said, feeling for the support column behind him as he’d temporarily lost his balance.
Uriel took a slow, menacing step toward the girl, who had frozen in place even as the rest of the group was moving out of the way. She gazed up at him in wonder, but there was more than a touch of real fear in her eyes.
“That’s . . .” She swallowed hard, not able to so much as blink as Uriel took another step toward her. “That’s an a-amazing makeup job, Mr. D-Daniels,” she stuttered. But he knew that she was aware, somewhere deep down, that it was no makeup job.
“Uriel, please—leave her alone.” Eleanore’s hand was suddenly on his arm, gripping him as tightly as she could, given that his biceps was so much larger than her hand.
The touch was grounding enough, however, that Uriel realized what he was doing. He stopped moving and blinked. He glanced down at the slim fingers on his arm, their grip so desperate.
Then he took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. Without looking back up at the young girl, he took her phone from her hand and crushed it. Then he addressed her, his tone cool and commanding. “You shouldn’t take pictures without asking. Now go back home where you belong.” He paused, looked up, and then added, “And don’t drink anymore. You can’t handle it.”
“Y-yes, sir,” the girl stammered. Her entire demeanor had changed by then. She was no longer turned on, no longer nervous. She was simply terrified—and very much under Uriel’s vampire influence.
He gave her mind one final push and she turned and fled across the circular drive of the August, leaving her friends to straighten up and stumble after her.
Eleanore’s hand slipped from Uriel’s arm, leaving him feeling as if he had lost a part of himself. He turned and met her gaze, noticing when she flinched from the look in his eyes.
He tried to rein it in. Again, it was difficult.
Eleanore’s lips were red and swollen from his kiss and her blue eyes were so large and bright in her beautiful face. Her long raven-black hair was caught in a desert breeze and invited his touch. He wanted to fist his fingers in it and hold her down.
“Are you okay?” she asked, closing the distance between them and reaching for his hand.
He blinked, surprised. He had been concerned about her, and yet she was the one to ask him if he was okay. She was very brave. He looked down at her hand where she wrapped it firmly around his, and he squeezed it back.
Almost immediately, he felt his fangs receding. He felt his ire draining away. His vision cleared, no longer tinted red, and his body slipped from monster mode. He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t had the strength to do it alone—but Eleanore had managed to bring him back under control in mere seconds.
He glanced up at her, once more meeting her gaze. “Ellie, how do you—”
She interrupted him with a gentle but firm finger laid over his lips. “I’m so glad you didn’t eat that girl.” She smiled a wry smile and looked as though she were about to laugh.
Uriel’s eyes widened. She was joking about it. He stared down into her glittering eyes, and as she bit her lip to keep from laughing, the final threads of tension slipped away from him. He found he could not hold his own laughter inside.
She laughed with him and then asked, “You think she’ll have nightmares about Jonathan Brakes now?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Who knows. I guess I lost a fan, didn’t I?”
Eleanore shrugged. “Probably not. She’ll wake up with a massive headache and a vague recollection of having gone to the movies to see Comeuppance. That would be my bet.”
Horns honked on the road beside them and sirens began to wail a few blocks away. Uriel looked up to see the neon lights flashing pink and yellow and he grimaced. He had never been fond of Las Vegas. But for the fountains at the Bellagio, the place was just too gaudy for his liking.
“Do you have your heart set on seeing those lights at Fremont?” he asked her softly.
“Not really,” she admitted with a guilty shrug. “I don’t think I’m much of a Vegas fan.”
 
; He smiled. “Me, neither. The whole thing’s a bit too plastic for my tastes.”
Eleanore blinked up at him, pausing at his description. She seemed pleasantly surprised at his admission. Then her smile was back, bigger than before. “I agree,” she said.
“Excellent. It’s settled, then.” He turned, still holding her hand, and began to lead her away from the hotel, toward an alleyway a few blocks down.
“Where are we going?” she asked, after they’d gone a block.
Uriel considered making her wait to find out and just surprising her, but it occurred to him that she may not like the place he had in mind. “How do you feel about the West Coast?”
“The West Coast?” she repeated, clearly confused.
“Yes,” he chuckled. “California. Oregon. Somewhere in between.”
“There’s nothing in between,” she said absently, blinking up at him.
“Ellie.”
“I’ve only been there once. A little city called Trinidad was my favorite. It’s a ways north of San Francisco. The beach was amazing; probably the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited. Why do you ask?”
“I’d like to take you there. I know someone in San Francisco who owns a clothing store. I thought maybe . . .” He paused, considering the best way to broach the subject of the gala tomorrow night. Then he straightened and said, “I had hoped you would still consider going to that gala in Dallas with me tomorrow night. And that you would allow me to buy the dress you’ll need in order to go.” He wasn’t used to asking people for permission. It was strange how important it suddenly was that he tread gently and win this woman’s full compliance. It meant everything to him that she accept him and that she not pull away.
“The gala?” She seemed to be talking to herself now, mulling everything over in her mind. She surprised him by smiling. “I would love to go with you, Uriel. As long as you promise not to eat anyone in the interim.”
Uriel couldn’t let that one go. “Anyone?” he asked, feeling his hunger for her rise again at the very thought of “eating” her.
Eleanore blinked and blushed furiously. “Well, I mean . . .” And then she let a breath out in a frustrated whoosh and simply punched him in the arm.
He laughed as they reached the alley.
“Then it’s settled.” He faced the dark length of the alleyway, located the rusted warehouse door he wanted, and waved his hand at its graffitied surface. Luckily for him, the ability to open a portal through the mansion was tied to the mansion and its recognition of him as one of the four favored archangels and not his own supernatural abilities or the bracelet would have held it in check. He turned to Ellie. “This portal I’ve opened will take us back to the mansion, and from there we can go anywhere. Just stay by my side.”
It rippled before them and then vanished altogether. Beyond was the elegant foyer of the mansion. They both stepped through and then Uriel waved his hand again, opening a portal through a door on the opposite wall.
Uriel felt the change in the air as soon as the second portal opened up. It was salty and thick with fog and the sound of seagulls split the night. Waves crashed somewhere nearby.
“Is this Frisco?” Ellie asked.
Uriel was right behind her, gently urging her on and through the opening. They stepped through and Eleanore looked behind them. Uriel followed her example, turning to look as well. They seemed to have stepped through the crumbling facade of an old lighthouse. Only the door was really still intact. The mansion’s portal closed behind them.
Uriel bent to whisper in her ear. “We’re in Trinidad.” The gesture sent a shiver running through her slim form and he smiled. “You said it was the most beautiful place you’d ever been. So I brought you back.”
He gave her a gentle nudge toward the beach surrounded by cliffs of dark rock. A thick, souplike fog sat not too far out on the water, like a giant white god, waiting to come and cover the shoreline and cliffs with its massive, shapeless body.
For now, however, the reflection of the moon on those grounded clouds provided enough light for Eleanore to see her surroundings. Not that it mattered for Uriel. As a vampire, he would have been able to see everything around them without any light at all. A silver lining, he thought.
He stood behind Eleanore and scanned their surroundings. He had been all over the world countless times, but he had to admit that this beach was beautiful beyond description. He couldn’t blame Eleanore for loving it as she did. A quick glance at her rapt, jubilant expression and he knew he’d made the right choice.
“I’ve got a lighter,” he said. “Help me gather some wood and we can start a fire.”
A few minutes later, they’d gathered a good amount of driftwood and piled it in the middle of a circle they had created out of worn, shell-fossiled stone. They stacked it from the tiny kindling-sized sticks, up to a handful of larger pieces at the top. Uriel took out the lighter and held it near the smaller pieces until a few of them caught flame and sputtered to life. The driftwood was still a little damp and his ability to manipulate the flames was currently trapped by the bracelet he wore. The fire would have sputtered into embers and then gone out altogether if it weren’t for Eleanore’s ability to control fire as well.
She caught the flame and concentrated on it, forcing it to eat the ends of the other pieces of wood until they dried out and the fire was well on its way. By the time she released it from her control, it was clear to him that she was feeling a tad drained and more than a touch hungry. He heard her stomach growl.
“Sit down,” he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and gently drawing her down on top of his lap as he lowered himself to the sand. “Are you okay?” he asked her then, wondering if she’d truly worn herself out with the fire.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’m just a little drained.”
Drained . . . He couldn’t help it that the first thing he pictured was his own teeth sinking into her neck. And speaking of drinking blood . . .
“You’re starving,” he told her then, whispering the words so close to her ear that she was helpless to stop a shiver.
It would have been impossible for Uriel not to notice. She was sitting between his legs and her back was pressed up against his chest. His arms were wrapped gently—but firmly—around her. He could sense everything about her now. He could hear her heartbeat as it sped up at his nearness. He could smell the shampoo in her hair and the slightest tint of adrenaline in her blood.
The image of him taking her was back, but stronger this time, and he felt a warning throb in his gums. “I know of a place not far from here. I can take you to eat. They’re open late.”
“We can walk?” she asked.
“No.” He paused, considering his next words and his own thoughts carefully. “We would fly. But . . .” He licked his lips and glanced down at the gold band around his wrist. “But I’m not sure it’s such a wise idea, now that I think of it.” Flying was a supernatural ability that came with his newfound vampirism. The bracelet held it in check.
Eleanore turned in his arms and peered up at him. Her expression was a mixture of bewilderment and confusion. “You could honestly fly me somewhere? Like Superman?”
Uriel couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah,” he said. “Like Superman. And Jonathan Brakes,” he added, his grin broadening. Luckily, he’d been able to keep his fangs in check.
“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” she asked.
His grin faltered as he studied her face. He didn’t miss the disappointment that furrowed her brow and flickered in her eyes. She wanted to fly. He’d never have imagined that about her. There was so much to learn....
If he could give her that one thing—what would it do for them?
Now Uriel wanted to take her to the air more than he had ever wanted to do anything for anyone in his extremely long existence. “Never mind,” he said, smiling confidently. “It’s a good idea,” he told her. “It’s a very good idea.”
They stood and he took hold of the brac
elet, but paused a moment in quiet reflection. “Eleanore, no matter what happens, whatever you see—don’t run from me.” He knew instinctively that if she did, he would give chase. He was a hunter now. And like all born hunters, he would automatically pursue anything that ran from him.
“I can handle it,” she said bravely.
This is insane, he told himself then. He looked down into Eleanore’s dark blue eyes and thought of everything she meant to him. He had searched for her for two thousand bloody years. Through wars and famine and hardships that most people could not imagine. She was the other half of his soul. What he felt when she was near was unlike anything he had ever experienced with another woman. With no other being, period.
If he changed and couldn’t control himself, he knew he would use all of his power to seduce her senseless, screw her brains out, and nearly drink her dry. And when she came around—if she came around—she might not forgive him. Was he willing to risk everything between them just to take her flying?
I may never get another chance, he thought. I may always be a vampire. I may never be cured. I might have to wear this bracelet forever.
With that thought, Uriel yanked on the gold band around his wrist. It came away from his arm with a bright, decisive flash.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Eleanore watched as the bracelet dissolved, flashed out of existence, and then reappeared in Uriel’s grip, no longer wrapped securely around his wrist. She looked up to find that his head was bowed and his eyes were closed. His lips were pressed firmly together as if he were in pain. Or possibly concentrating.
Eleanore couldn’t take the tension. “Uriel?” she asked softly, taking a tentative step toward him. “Are you okay?”
She stopped in her tracks as his lips parted, revealing long, gleaming white fangs. Then she gasped as he raised his head and opened his eyes. The gorgeous light green of his irises was no longer visible. It had been swallowed up entirely by a deep, bottomless black that claimed his eyes from corner to corner.