A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(84)

"Is trusting me going to be a problem?"

"You're a wolf."

Surprise lit his eyes. "How do you know that?"

"I saw it when you bit me."

He studied her for a moment, his expression enigmatic. "I was born a werewolf. Caught by the Romans. Turned into a vampire."

"So you're both."

"A werevamp. We're not common, but I'm far from unique." He frowned. "Having seen what you did, you still don't fear me."

"I trust you." She shrugged. "As much as I trust any vamp." Which was the truth. There was something about this male that she liked, though why, she wasn't entirely sure. Instinct, she supposed. For all the good her instincts had done her lately.

Besides, Arturo trusted him completely. Which really shouldn't be a rousing recommendation but somehow was. "So what's the plan?"

"To get you out of the castle without Cristoff's knowing we're involved." He pulled the bag off his shoulder.

"Is that what I think it is?"

A smile lit his eyes. "What do you think it is?"

"A body bag." No wonder it smelled bad.

"Then, yes. It is. And since it's imperative you act like a boneless corpse, I'm going to have to knock you out. I won't hit you any harder than I have to."

Quinn's eyes went wide as she took a deep breath and wondered if she was being a fool yet again for trusting vampires. What the hell. She didn't have a lot to lose at this point. "Okay. Shoot."

A flicker of admiration crossed his features a moment before the lights went out.

The smell hit her first, before she was even fully awake, a horrendous stench of decomposing meat. The bouncing vehicle and roar of the Jeep's engine brought it all flooding back. Kassius. The body bag. Eeuw.

You're safe, cara. Be still. Arturo's calming voice slid through her mind. Just a few more minutes. We're almost there.

She struggled to breathe through her mouth, trying not to think of where she was, of what had been in the bag before her. Instead, she remembered why she was in the bag. Cristoff. Zack.

Grief sucker punched her all over again, stealing what breath she'd managed to pull into her lungs. The pain was almost too much to bear. She wondered if this would happen every time she woke, this remembering. This agony.

Finally, the Jeep came to a halt. A moment later, she felt herself being lifted and slung over a shoulder. Boneless, Kassius had said. She did her best impression of a dead body as Arturo carried her up a couple of steps, then across a wooden floor, finally depositing her on something nice and soft. The sofa? Huh. If it were her sofa, she sure as heck wouldn't want a body bag on it. Certainly not one that smelled like this one. But she had to appreciate the soft landing.

She heard the zipper slide, then fresh air was rushing into her lungs. Arturo's hands slid beneath her arms, and he lifted her up and out as if she were a toddler and not a full-grown woman. They were in a living room, as she'd suspected - an old-fashioned, if decidedly masculine room, with dark wood paneling, heavy draperies, and bookshelves lining two of the walls.

Lamplight flickered over his face as he gripped her chin, tilting her head this way and that. "He didn't hit you too hard?"

"No, I'm fine. Other than the smell that probably singed off my nose hairs."

"I shall have a talk with Kassius about using cleaner body bags in future." At his deadpan expression, she almost smiled. Warmth and concern lit his eyes, and he stroked her jaw. "You are safe here."

She nodded, then pulled herself out of her misery and focused on him, lifting her hand to touch his jaw in return. He stilled, then leaned ever so slightly into her touch. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

His fingers slid into her hair, and he dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers. The kiss felt nice, stealing a measure of her grief, if only for a moment. She wanted more. She wanted to forget. Pulling back, she slid her hands to cup the back of his neck. "I must smell like death."

A smile lit his eyes. "You smell like sunshine, cara. You could never smell bad to me." Then he pulled her fully into his arms and kissed her with a fierce, drugging hunger as if he understood her need to forget. His mouth opened over hers, his tongue sweeping inside to lay claim, to plunder and dance and taste. She kissed him back, lost in the heady passion, her body heating, trembling. The terrible ache in her chest eased, and she was filled with gratitude. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was a vampire. Or that he was partly to blame for her loss. He was heat and light and life, and she needed that, needed him.

His mouth left hers, trailing kisses across her jaw, down her throat. Then he pulled back and took her hand. "Come." As he led her to the stairs, she knew where they were going. To the bedroom. To have sex. And she was ready for it, ready to lose herself in passion and forget everything else.

His hand tight around hers, he ushered her up the stairs and to the bedroom . . . her bedroom. Opening the door, he released her hand and stood back for her to enter.

As she stepped into the room, she faltered. There was someone on the bed. Curly red hair. The blood drained from her face and she swayed. Zack. He'd brought her the body.

"He's alive, cara," the vampire said quietly behind her.

Alive. The tears started to roll, and she took a tentative step, then another. She reached for her brother's bare shoulder slowly, her hand touching warm, vibrant, living flesh. "Zack." The word came out on a sob.