Dante laughed. "I'll bet. So what good bands should I check out for my club?"
Ash grabbed three Dark Horse Tales of the Vampires comics and added them to his growing pile. "Last Dance is really good. They're playing tonight, and Ghoultown too. But the one band you have to see is the Cruxshadows. They're right up your alley and rule the Darkwave scene. The lead singer Rogue'll be over in the Hyatt later signing autographs at their booth. If you want, I can introduce you."
"That'd be great." The only reason Dante had come to Atlanta was because Acheron had assured him Dragon*Con was one of the best places to see several alternative bands so that he could hire them for gigs at his club in Minnesota.
Simi came running up to them with two male "Klingons" trailing behind her. "Akri? Can I go to the Klingon homeworld?"
Ash smiled at his demon. "Sure, just don't eat any of them."
The demon pouted. "But why not?"
"Because, Simi, they're not really Klingons. They're people pretending to be Klingons."
"Well, pooh, fine then. No eats. But I'm going to go now. Bye bye." She dashed off with the two young men.
Ash handed the comics to the vendor, then pulled out his wallet.
"Shouldn't you go do a head count on the homeworld population?" Dante asked.
"Nah. She'll do what I said…" Ash paused as if something occurred to him. "Then again, I didn't tell her not to eat a Bajoran or Romulan. Damn." He paid for the comics. "You're right, I better go count."
Ash took a step away, then stopped. "By the way, you might want to head upstairs right now and check out your room."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Make sure it meets with your needs."
Dante frowned. "I've already been there."
"Go there again."
The animal in Dante picked up a weird scent from Acheron, but he wasn't sure what it was.
But as the Atlantean headed off, he felt an inexplicable pull to do what Acheron had suggested.
Dante headed out of the vendors' area, toward the escalator. He'd barely reached it when he smelled the pantheress again. He turned sharply to the left, expecting to see her.
She wasn't there.
Still, he was hard for her. Ready. The animal inside was growling for a taste of her body.
He headed up the escalator to escape the scent.
It seemed to grow stronger.
His head low, he scanned the crowd intently, but none of his people was there.
Closing his eyes, he sniffed the air. Her fragrance was subtle now. And it was…
He whirled around.
There was no woman there, only Romeo, and he reeked of the pantheress. Dante couldn't stop himself from sniffing Romeo, who immediately shoved him away.
"Man, you skeeve me when you do that. And don't do it in public. Someone might get the wrong idea about us."
He ignored his brother's reprimanding tone. "Where is she?" Dante demanded.
"Out of reach."
Her scent washed over him, even stronger than before. His body was raw. Needful. Every part of him craved her.
And it wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Where?" he growled.
Romeo shook his head.
But he didn't have to be told. Every hormone in his body sensed her. Against his will, Dante took off at a run as he cut through the crowd toward the elevator.
Without thought, he flashed himself from the lobby to the sixteenth floor.
The scent was even stronger here.
More desirable.
More intense.
Dante stalked his way down the hall until he found her door. He couldn't breathe as her scent filled his entire being. Leaning his head against the wood, he closed his eyes and fought the sudden urge to kick the door in.
That would probably scare her, and besides, he didn't want to have an audience for what he intended to do with her.
He knocked on the door with a clenched fist and waited until a small, petite brunette opened it. She had large, lavender eyes and long hair that curled around an oval face.
His breathing ragged, he stared at her, wanting her with every piece of him.
But for all his sexual hunger, he knew that it was now her move…
CHAPTER 2
Pandora couldn't breathe as she stared at the tall, sexy panther in her doorway. He embodied everything that was primal and male. His hands were braced on each side of the frame as he looked at her with an intensity so raw, it shook her. Masculine power and lethal grace bled from every pore of his magnificent body.
He had long black hair pulled back into a queue. His eyes were a clear blue that appeared almost colorless against his tanned skin and long midnight lashes. His face was elegantly carved and yet had a rugged quality that kept him from being pretty.
He was dressed in black jeans and a black poet's shirt. There was something timeless and old about him. Something that reached out to her and set her entire body on fire.
Without her invitation, he stepped into the room and bent his head so that he could rub his face against her hair.