Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter series Book 7)

Hanging on to her control by her fingernails, she very deliberately brought her vodka mixer to her lips, forcing distance between them. “I see two women who might be donors.” The glass was icy against her palm, but it did nothing to chill the heat licking over her body. “Faint bite bruise on one.”


Janvier wrapped an arm around her front as she went to move past him on her way to the women. He’d pressed a kiss to her cheekbone before she could avoid it. Gritting her teeth against the craving to haul him to her, take that delicious mouth with her own, she instead moved her lips to his ear . . . and bit down hard enough on his earlobe to leave a mark.

He hissed. “You do realize many vampires consider pain foreplay?” Hot breath against her, the muscles in his arm flexing to keep her close.

“You don’t.” Sliding out of his hold, she strolled over to strike up a conversation with her targets.

The conversation proved a bust, though it appeared Janvier was having some success with the bartender. Louis joined the other two males not long afterward, and she decided to head back.

A vampire shoulder-bumped her on the way, his hand sliding over hers. It should’ve been nothing, the contact was so fleeting . . . but it set off a deluge of nightmare that swamped her senses, threatened to take her under. Screams, he had screams inside him. Legs shaky and stomach threatening to revolt, she reached out to brace herself against the bar, but instead of the cold, hard edge of stone, she felt a body warm and tensile.

Sliding his arm around her with a lazy grace that belied the tension in his body, Janvier nuzzled at her. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Pretend you can’t get enough of me, cher.”

She wanted to snap off a quick retort, make light of this, but her heart was thumping too hard and her nerves trembling. Wrapping her own arm around Janvier’s waist, she held on to the solid strength of him, tucking her head against his neck. Her breath came in jerky bursts, her hand clenching on his T-shirt as he murmured things she couldn’t hear through the roar in her ears, but that she knew would make it seem they were indulging in a public display of affection. Sickening but normal.

Her vision eventually cleared to the point that she could see Louis watching them, a smile wreathing his face. The other man was several feet away, where Janvier must’ve been before he moved to intercept her. Swallowing, she took a deep breath and Janvier’s scent filled her lungs: primal, earthy male.

Her chest shuddering, she rubbed her nose against his neck in a moment of weakness before raising her head. “Merci.”

He brushed back a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid to curl against the side of her face. “No thanks between us, Ashwini. No balance sheet.”

The things he said. The things he meant.

Releasing her grip on the cotton of his tee, she slid her hand into his hair, tugged down his head, and kissed him soft and sweet and with every ounce of the heartbreaking emotion inside her. It lasted for a fleeting fragment of time and it changed the world.





22


Janvier was the one who trembled this time, his arm firming to hold her tight. “Why that vampire?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“He’s done horrible things.” The hairs stood up on her arms at the memory. “I can’t tell if it’s in the present or an echo of his past, but we need to check him out.”

“His name is Khalil, and I know he has darker appetites.” A hard edge to his tone. “I’ll put a discreet watch on him. For now, he appears occupied with a blonde barely into her womanhood, so we may go and speak to Louis.”

The two of them closed the distance to the bouncer.

“Sorry for the wait.” Janvier’s insouciant smile invited the other man to laugh and he did.

“Some things take priority. Especially when the priority is so very beautiful.”

“I like you, Louis.” Ashwini tried to keep her tone playful, despite the fact that she felt scraped raw on the inside.

“If you ever decide against this no-good swamp rat, you know where you can find me.” Louis slid his eyes a whisper to the right. “Brown sugar in the sequined green mini-jumpsuit thing, blonde fantasy twins, and the built guy shaved to within an inch of his life. Regular donors here. Tight foursome. High chance they would’ve crossed paths with your girl.”

Ashwini covertly checked out the group, caught them giving Janvier a greedy appraisal. Unsurprising. He might not be dressed in leather or lace or velvet, nor have the honed beauty of the oldest vampires, but Janvier was six feet three inches of pure indulgent sex. He wasn’t even trying to project that at this instant—his sexual attractiveness was innate, created by his confidence, the lithe strength of his body, the lazy smile that said he knew every sin and had invented a few new ones.

“Janvier,” she said, stepping away from him, the loss of contact bruising, “we’re about to have a fight. I’ll be storming off with Louis.”

A raised eyebrow. “Will it be a passionate fight?”

“I could slap you, but I think I’ll settle for calling you a cheating bastard after Louis lets slip the news of your philandering ways.”