“Yeah, yeah.” Santiago wrapped an arm around Nefri’s shoulder, firmly tugging her from Gabriel’s light grasp. “Go away.”
“Santiago,” Nefri chided softly. She understood he was an alpha vampire who felt the need to flex his muscles when another alpha was near, but she wasn’t a bone to be fought over. She had muscles of her own that could be flexed. “Thank you, Gabriel, for your most gracious hospitality.”
Gabriel flashed Santiago a condescending smile. “Manners are a lost art among the children, I fear.”
Santiago snorted, then deliberately slammed the door in Gabriel’s face.
Nefri shook her head. Males. “Do you feel better?”
His arm tightened around her shoulder and without warning he was swooping down to kiss her with a fierce intensity. She stiffened in surprise, then, sensing his need, she melted against him. This wasn’t about conquering her. Or even staking a claim.
It was an instinctive need to know she would willingly choose him above all others.
At last lifting his head, he regarded her with a brooding gaze. “Now I feel better.”
She went on her tiptoes to nip at his chin. “We need to find out what information Levet has.”
He grimaced. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to let him wait a few hours?”
She gave a shake of her head, that strange sense of urgency returning with a vengeance. “I don’t think we can afford to wait.”
His eyes darkened, as if he shared her sudden unease. “Oh . . . hell.”
Chapter 23
Styx’s lair in Chicago
To Sally the bedroom she’d been given looked like something out of a glossy magazine.
As big as her mother’s cottage, it was decorated in shades of sea foam green and silver. A massive fireplace consumed one wall with another wall lined with arched windows that overlooked a distant lake. The floor was covered by a Parisian carpet and the ceiling was covered with a painting of angels dancing among the clouds.
In the center of the room was a canopy bed with a pale green comforter that was perfectly matched to the chaise lounge set beside the windows. There was also a hand-carved armoire and a mirrored dressing table.
Clearly the gig of being the King of Vampires paid well, she wryly acknowledged, trying her best not to be intimidated by her surroundings.
It was bad enough that Roke had made her feel like the biggest loser to ever walk the earth.
“I couldn’t possibly have been trapped with a worse mate if I tried. . . .”
Cold-blooded snake.
She wasn’t going to be overawed by a mere house.
Thankfully while she was indulging in a hot bubble bath someone (she was betting on Styx’s lovely mate, Darcy) had made sure she had clean clothing. She chose a pair of black spandex pants that she matched with a white muscle shirt.
It was the perfect outfit for the hours of meditation she would need while her spell continued to simmer in the kitchen.
Or at least, that had been the plan.
She’d barely pulled on the clothes and run a brush through her damp hair when the silence was destroyed by a sudden knock. She stiffened, already knowing who was on the other side of the heavy walnut door.
She could actually feel Roke. As if there was a physical connection between them.
Standing in the center of the room, she wrapped her arms around her waist. It would be futile to try and pretend she was asleep. Roke was a vampire. He could no doubt hear the sudden increase of her heartbeat and the rapid rasp of her breath.
Besides, he’d already proven he didn’t give a crap about her or her feelings. Even if she was sleeping, he wouldn’t hesitate to wake her up.
While she dithered, there was another impatient bang on the door, and Roke’s voice sliced through the air. “Open the door, Sally. I need to speak with you.”
Comforting her wounded pride with the lovely image of turning the creep into a slimy toad, she yanked open the door to glare at the unwelcome intruder. “Why?” she asked in sweetly sick tones. “Did you have a few more insults you wanted to share?”
“No. I did—” His words broke off as his gaze took in her skimpy top and the clinging pants. The pale eyes darkened to smoke, his features sharpening with a hunger she didn’t need their bond to sense.
His lengthening fangs would have been the first clue.
Sally blushed, feeling ridiculously exposed beneath that searing gaze. Stupid considering she’d worn far less in public.
“You did what?” she prompted, clinging to the door and trying not to do her own share of staring. The arrogant vamp was well aware he was indecently gorgeous. He didn’t need her drooling to stroke his ego.
He muttered something too low for her to catch before he was retreating behind his facade of stoic self-control.
“I did some research on the warehouse,” he finished, his voice smooth.
Sally eagerly latched on to the distraction. Anything not to have to deal with the renegade excitement that fluttered in the pit of her stomach.
“What warehouse?”
“The one where the book was hidden.”