Phoenix Burning Read online

  Orgasmic energy was tied to the life force, and every time she drew from him, she’d be taking some of his life as well. Yeah, Ivar was a vampire, but that simply meant it would take longer for her to kill him.

  “We can’t do this again. It was one time only.” And pushing Ivar back, she tugged down her skirt, and walked away.

  Chapter Five

  Aythe de Cruce leaned against a parked car in the underground garage and panted harshly. With one hand, she staunched the flow of blood from her throat. Her body had already begun to heal itself, but the wound was bad and it would take some time before she regained her energy.

  She supposed she was fortunate that Ivar had chosen not to pursue her, but she didn’t feel lucky. No, the emotion was closer to panic and it chilled her at her very core. With age came power and Aythe had been a vampire nearly twice as long as he’d been. Not only should she have sensed his presence, but she also should have been able to defeat him without much difficulty.

  An individual’s strength, though, had another component—some indefinable personal boost—and LeBlanc had been dominant enough to be made an enforcer while he’d still been a fledgling. It was a position she was unlikely to ever hold, but there was another role she desired far more.

  The sound of a car engine reached her ears and Aythe straightened, staggering as she sought the shadows. As weakened as she was, magical concealment, even from a human, was impossible.

  She didn’t breathe easily until the sedan had driven past her and she heard the sounds associated with parking a vehicle. Still she didn’t move, not till the elevator doors closed, muting the voices of the couple who’d gotten on. Lowering her hand, Aythe checked her injury. The blood loss had finally ceased.

  Leaning back against the concrete wall, she slid down, sitting on the floor. Fear clawed at her belly and she fought it back. What did Ivar know?

  He’d remained hidden until she’d launched her attack on the girl, so he was aware that she was the target. Maybe he’d believe that the clan lord had ordered the tantric be captured.

  Almost as soon as the idea occurred to her, she dismissed it. He had doubtless been assigned by Kýlan—the clan lord—himself to watch the girl; it was the only reasonable explanation for his presence tonight. LeBlanc had taken a vow of poverty when he’d been a Templar Knight, but as a vampire, he’d embraced gold and the creature comforts it afforded. This neighborhood wasn’t nearly affluent enough for him.

  The coolness of the pavement she sat upon penetrated her clothing, leaving her chilled, but Aythe didn’t bother to regulate her body heat. In a moment or two, she’d move and then she’d be fine.

  Kýlan wanted the girl’s father, had hunted him for more than two centuries, so it made sense that he’d send in one of his most trusted enforcers. Ivar would wait and watch and capture the father when he made the mistake of visiting his daughter. Aythe’s scheme wasn’t so very different, except in her version she used the child as bait, and when parent and child were in her control, she’d kill them both.

  It was her only hope of keeping her secret because if Kýlan ever talked with the girl’s father, Aythe would be the one facing death. She shuddered.

  All wasn’t lost, she decided. LeBlanc had no idea who she was—at least she’d been cautious enough to hide her identity—and he’d be equally in the dark as to why she wanted the young tantric. For all he knew, Aythe could be a rogue vampire, or a vampire from another clan, or even a vampire so loyal to her clan lord that she wanted to kill his enemies. Some of the chill dissipated.

  She might have to overcome Ivar, but her plan had been delayed, not destroyed.

  * * *

  Ivar scowled as he followed Phoenix up the stairs to the floor their apartments were located on. It wasn’t that she’d told him no that put him in a sour mood, it was the memory of the attack. Someone had meant to harm her and he’d no idea who. Did she?

  He picked up his pace and caught Phoenix before she could open her door. “We need to talk,” he said.

  “I told you—”

  “No sex,” Ivar finished for her. “I got that and it’s your choice, but tonight a vampire went after you and I want to know why.” He fought to meet her gaze. One of her nipples poked insistently through her ripped sweater and it took all his self-command to fight the temptation to lean down and lick it.

  “I don’t know why,” she said.

  “All the more reason to discuss it. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can come up with something.”

  Phoenix didn’t say anything and it appeared as if she were having an internal battle on which way to go. Ivar waited, giving her the time to reach the right decision.

  At last, she shrugged one shoulder and said with obvious reluctance, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Reaching in one of the pockets of her skirt, she pulled out a key and turned to unlock the door. Before opening it, she looked at him over her shoulder. “I have your word you’ll behave?”

  Inclining his head, Ivar said, “I will, upon my honor.”

  That seemed to convince her. Phoenix turned the knob and pushed open the door, waiting in the entry until he walked past her into the living room. Her space wasn’t any more interesting than his own and just as minimally furnished. His place was mostly bare because it wasn’t his home, but Phoenix? “You don’t seem to own very much,” he said, hoping she didn’t pick up on his curiosity.

  “I only get a year in L.A.—unless I hit it big—so I didn’t bring everything with me. I’m going to change clothes.” And without waiting for an acknowledgement, she pivoted and headed for the bedroom.

  “Hit it big? You want to be an actress?” he asked, keeping his voice normal. Phoenix had the same acute hearing that any vampire had—he didn’t need to yell.

  “Screenplay writer.”

  That was probably as difficult to break into as acting. “Why do you only have a year?”

  Her voice was muffled as she said, “Because my parents are paying my living expenses for that long. After that, I’m on my own and this is an expensive town to live in. If I have to work two or three jobs, when would I have time to write?”

  Her parents. Her father. Ivar opened his mouth to ask where they lived, but he swallowed the words. This wasn’t the plan the clan lord had laid out for him when he’d been given the assignment. Besides, if Ivar asked Phoenix questions now, she’d remember his dishonorable actions later and hate him for them. She’d probably hate him anyway, but at least it wouldn’t be because he was an unconscionable asshole. He pushed that knowledge to the background. It had no place here.

  “Your parents still take care of you?” Ivar asked. He’d guessed her to be around twenty-five, but if her father and mother continued to support her, perhaps she was younger than he believed. Although, from what he knew about tantric vampires, they didn’t Awaken any earlier than their mid twenties and Phoenix had most definitely come of age—he had the scratches on his back to prove it. One side of his mouth quirked up. Between his tantric lover and the attacking vampire, his T-shirt wasn’t fit for the rag bin.

  Phoenix appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. She was barefoot, dressed in the same short skirt, and the tank top she wore was so tight, he wasn’t certain it was an improvement over the torn sweater. Ivar could see the outline of her nipples and knew she was bare beneath it. His gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt. Was she now bare under that as well?

  “Ivar.”

  The insistence of her voice took his gaze from her thighs to her face. She wanted him to think she was angry, but beneath that emotion he saw arousal. “What?” he asked when she simply glared at him.

  “Stop thinking about my pussy.”

  His lips curved. “I was thinking about your panties—or rather the lack of them.”

  “You can’t know I—” Phoenix cut off her outburst, made a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh, and said, “Let’s talk about the vampire.”

  “As you wish,” Ivar said, running a hand over his mout
h to conceal the smile he couldn’t quite contain. They’d be doing more than talking before the night was finished. He would hold to his word and not seduce her, but he’d never promised he wouldn’t respond to her moves. She wanted more of him, that was apparent. She could have thrown on sweats or something else that concealed her shape, but not only did Phoenix have on less now than she had when she’d gone out to hunt, she’d also all but confessed to taking off her thong.

  Best get his mind off that track, he decided. It was difficult enough to control his reaction to her and she might kick him out if she saw his eyes morph or his cock get hard. His fangs had already dropped a fraction of an inch.

  In a few strides, Ivar reached the card table that she had setup near the balcony doors. He pulled out one of the chairs and walked to the other side of the table. He pulled out another chair and sat, waiting for Phoenix to join him. It didn’t take her long. His lips twitched as she scooted farther away from the table...and him.

  When he could speak without his amusement leaking into his voice, Ivar asked, “Have you run into any other vampires during your time in L.A.?”

  Phoenix shook her head. “Just you and it would be obvious to me if I had seen another. I knew as soon as I met you that your energy wasn’t human. Maybe the vampire was starving. Maybe that’s why she attacked me—to feed.”

  He zeroed in on one word. “She? Why do you believe your attacker was female?” Earlier, she’d claimed there was a difference between male and female energy, but he’d never noted a distinction.

  That earned him a frown. “I told you. I felt she was female.”

  “I’d like more than that.”

  For a moment, her scowl deepened before she shrugged, her expression evening out. Phoenix’s eyes went blank, her gaze distant, then, holding both hands out, palm up, she made a face. “If you can’t feel it on your own, I can’t give you reasons. It was just a sense I had.”

  Nodding, Ivar considered Phoenix. She was young, but there was certainty in her gaze. Maybe he needed to trust her on this. He ran through his impressions of the vampire. If it had been a woman, she’d gone out of her way to camouflage the fact, but that would fit with everything else. She’d hidden her presence, had attempted to cloak her energy, and had masked herself to conceal her identity. “That puts a new spin on things,” he said, “but it doesn’t make anything clearer. Although...”

  “Although what?” she asked when he didn’t finish his thought.

  He hesitated, then said, “I think the vampire was someone from my clan. It would explain why she’d disguised herself.”

  “How does it explain anything? It isn’t like she’d know you would be out at that time of night.”

  “True,” he said, although if the vampire knew about his mission, she’d guess that Ivar wouldn’t be far from Phoenix. “But let’s say she attacked you and you won the fight, she might guess you’d describe her to me, maybe you’d do it well enough for me to identify her.”

  “We hadn’t even done more than bump into each other a few times at that point,” Phoenix said. “Why would she assume I’d go to you?”

  “How would she know we weren’t friends? If this was more than a chance encounter and if she did any reconnaissance, she’d know we live in adjacent apartments. Why wouldn’t you go to one vampire for advice when another attacked?”

  “So it’s someone you know, then.” Phoenix shifted in her seat and her skirt rode up. Either she didn’t notice or she didn’t care because she didn’t tug it down. Ivar fought to keep his gaze from drifting. “Maybe you have an old girlfriend who doesn’t like your interest in me,” she said.

  It was difficult to remember any of the women in his past while he was with Phoenix, but as he considered his relationships, Ivar decided it was unlikely. Most of his liaisons had been with humans—it made his life less complicated—and the few vampire females he’d been involved with had moved on with no hard feelings when things had ended. “It’s been decades since I’ve had more than a friendship with another vampire.”

  “What about one who wants to be involved with you?”

  Ivar frowned. His knee-jerk reaction was to deny it, but it had to be considered. “It’s a possibility,” he said at last, although the idea didn’t sit comfortably. Yes, he’d received his share of invitations, but it wasn’t as if any of those women had been heartbroken when he’d refused. “It’s more likely you poached on some human male who a female vampire considers hers.”

  Phoenix shook her head before he finished speaking. “No, it’s not, and if you knew as much about tantric vampires as you claimed, you’d be aware of that.”

  Her hands rested on the table, and reaching over, he covered both of hers with one of his. “I know you don’t have sex until you’ve Awakened, but—”

  She cut him off. “It’s more than that. We’re completely asexual until Awakening. That means I didn’t flirt or give off any kind of signal even unconsciously. It means I wasn’t unknowingly wafting any pheromones out into the ether. But most importantly it means that human men never noticed me as a woman. Things only began to change about six weeks ago and you’ve been here the entire time. You know there are no other men hanging around.”

  His grip tightened briefly on her and then he relaxed, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand. So he’d been more than the first man to fuck her—he’d been first in everything. Satisfaction filled him, but he was careful to keep that under wraps. Ivar didn’t want to chance angering Phoenix, not when he wanted more than a quick encounter. “One potential reason eliminated, but it doesn’t narrow things down much.”

  “I don’t know how you think we’re going to figure things out,” Phoenix said, pulling her hands free and slumping back in her chair.

  “Maybe we can’t, but it would be nice to know if our enemy will return.” Ivar leaned back himself and admired the view. Her skirt had moved higher up her thighs and her legs had fallen open—the shadows couldn’t conceal the pretty little lips of her sex from him, not with his vision—and he could see the how wet she was, how aroused.

  He lost the reins on his own body. At least his erection wasn’t directly in her line of sight, but he couldn’t look at her, not without her seeing his eyes had gone the bluish-white color that signaled full-out lust, and while he’d long ago mastered the art of speaking clearly despite complete fang extension, she’d notice the extra length on his teeth.

  “It could have just been one time,” Phoenix said. “If she was starving, she might have seen me as a no-hassle dinner and I heard vampires don’t think clearly when they’ve gone too long without feeding. That’s the most logical thing.”

  Ivar tried to make sense of her words. It took longer than it should have for him to sort it out and come up with an answer. “A tantric wouldn’t be considered an easy meal and would be avoided, especially by a starving vampire. Hunger weakens us too much to risk taking on someone as strong as we are.” He hadn’t met her gaze and his voice came out choked, but there was nothing he could do about that. The miracle was that he’d spoken two coherent sentences in a row.

  She was too young to have telepathic skills yet—it was something vampires, even a tantric vampire, acquired with age—and because of this, Ivar let his thoughts say what he couldn’t speak aloud.

  I want you naked this time, Phoenix. I want to lie with you, to explore you with my hands and mouth and I want you to touch me the same way. I want to taste you, not stopping until you come so hard that you have to scream your pleasure. I want your mouth wrapped around my cock, too, your tongue working me until I beg you to stop. I want hours with you, hours to show you—

  “Stop!” Phoenix sounded breathless and he finally was able to look up and see her face. She was flushed, her pupils huge, and her hands shaking. “Just stop talking.”

  Talking? “I said nothing aloud.” And she shouldn’t have been able to hear his thoughts.

  “Yes, you did. I heard you.” But she lost steam by the time she
reached the final word and Ivar didn’t have to guess why. She’d finally noticed how far gone he was. “We can’t.” Phoenix sounded excited, but also apologetic. “I’m too dangerous to you.”

  “I’m equally dangerous to you,” Ivar said. “But I won’t drain you and I trust you not to drain me, either. All we need is for you to trust yourself.”

  Chapter Six

  Phoenix wanted to believe it was that simple, but it wasn’t, and damn, she was tired of thinking. She wanted to feel, she wanted to do those things Ivar had mentioned. A little seduction was all it would take to silence the voice in her head, the one whispering the warnings she’d heard as she’d grown up. Why didn’t he make it easy for her?

  “Because I gave you my word and I was raised in a time when a man’s honor meant everything.”

  She leaped on his statement, hoping to use it to distract her thoughts from sex, from pulling Ivar into her bedroom and taking what she wanted from him. Everything she wanted, including his energy.

  “When did you become a vampire? How long ago?”

  “The beginning of the fourteenth century.”

  As focused as she was on the heat burning low in her belly, Phoenix couldn’t manage to do the math. At last, she resorted to counting on her fingers—unobtrusively, she hoped. “You’re seven hundred years old.”

  “Give or take a few decades.”

  His answer didn’t give her much to focus on. Desperate, she searched for anything and a single word flitted through the red haze of lust filling her brain. “Chivalry. That’s why honor means so much to you, right?”

  Voice hard, Ivar said, “The code of chivalry is only part of it.”

  She’d touched a nerve, but before she could figure out what that was, she realized he wasn’t meeting her eyes. Phoenix followed his gaze and her breath caught when she saw how she was sitting—legs splayed, skirt nearly bunched at her hips, and no panties. If she were human, she might have been mortified. Might have been, but maybe not with Ivar, not when he could enflame her so easily. But might haves didn’t mean anything. She was a tantric vampire and sex was as natural to her as breathing.