Bound By Blood. Elizabeth Valentino
in satisfaction at the sight of my 1966 fastback Mustang. She sparkles from her sleek black paint down to her chrome wheel covers. She is a thing of beauty. It only cost me an arm and a leg–and maybe a “favor” or two–to get her over here from the States. Then there were the countless hours of labor and Google searches for mechanical assistance, all to get her into the pristine condition she is in now.
Bryce lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “You sure know how to pick your machinery.”
“Indeed I do. As soon as my damn wings decide to fold back in, we can take her out.” I wish it wasn’t so goddamn early; the banks won’t be open for hours and I’m anxious to get going. “Bryce? Do you happen to know what time it is?” I’m being a total coward, and don’t want to see how many times Steele has called since I put the phone on silent.
“Time for you to get a watch,” he says, before pulling a pocket watch from his jacket. “Six-thirty.” Closing the watch, he shoves it back into his pocket. “I’m going out to smoke.” He lights up another cigarette and heads for the door.
With a turn of my key I pop the trunk and, seeing all my old familiar tools of the trade, feel a little more like myself. I’ll be the only vampire running around in a car loaded with things designed to kill vampires. My nose wrinkles as I catch a whiff of the odor wafting off my clothes. I’m in dire need of new ones, and a shower. Since Bryce is out taking a smoke break, I guess there’s no time like the present.
The buttons on my jacket are practically crusted with dried blood. Once I manage to pry them apart I throw my jacket to the side; there’s no saving it. Most of my wounds have healed, but I’m still stiff as hell and unlacing my knee-high combat boots is not fun. After I toss my boots into the ruined pile, I realize my pants are pretty much stuck solidly to my body. With a sigh I grab a small knife from the trunk, walk to the front of my car and plop down on the hood. Slowly, I start cutting sections of my pants and peeling the leather off of my skin until I’m sitting in the buff, perched atop the hood of my car. The door opens just enough to permit a body through.
“Hi, Bryce.” I slide off the hood of my car with all the dignity one can when totally nude. Bryce just stands there, staring at me like an animal ready to pounce its prey. “Um, have you never seen a naked woman before?” I stutter, not sure if I should shoot him or run, or both.
His eyes still glittering with lust, even in the dark confines of the garage, Bryce advances a step in my direction. His movements are sleek and smooth, deadly. “We need to get going.”
“The banks don’t open for a few hours, so unless you have enough cash stashed in your duffel bag to get us both to New York, we’re, um, going to have to wait.” Sidestepping Bryce, I try to retreat to the car and clothes to shield myself from his hungry, predatory gaze. His hand snaps out and wraps around my arm, holding me firmly and stopping my retreat.
“We don’t need your money, princess,” Bryce rasps. “I have a private jet waiting for us about ten miles from here.”
“Why didn’t you mention this sooner?” I flush underneath his scorching gaze. This concerns me, since my flesh is usually as cold as my dead heart.
“I had to make a phone call to make sure it was possible.” With a sharp tug Bryce pulls me fully against him. The air surrounding us all but crackles with the sudden sexual tension between us.
“Where did you get a phone?” I breathe. My hand creeps out on its own, without any encouragement from me, and rests against the warm, solid wall of Bryce’s chest.
“Pay phone.” Bryce’s lips descend an inch toward mine. If he moves forward even the slightest bit, all that delicious stubble framing his luscious mouth will brush my lips.
“Is it, um, is it your jet?” All the synapses in my brain short out; even forming words is complicated. Good thing I don’t have to worry about breathing.
“Company jet.” With agonizing slowness Bryce lowers his lips the last few millimeters until they brush mine, so lightly. I can’t tell if they’re actually touching mine or if it’s just wishful thinking. His fingers skim over my arm, leaving shivering flesh in their wake. His lips connect to mine in a gentle caress with the promise of more lurking behind it. His hand closes over mine as his lips continue to tease, his stubble scraping over my skin. Before I realize it, he’s tugging at the keys in the palm of my hand. “Fuck no, you don’t!” Pushing him away, I run toward the driver’s side door.
“Come on, let me drive.”
“That would be a hell no, Bryce. Only I know the right way to make my baby purr. She likes it hard and fast.”
“Oh really?” His eyes send out a dangerous challenge filled with heated promises.
“Fuck, get in the car.” I run back to shut the trunk. Before I slam it shut I grab a full-length hooded coat and polarized set of goggles. “Vampires, coming fast.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.