The Cold Kiss of Death

surprise. Air was moving in a constant stream around her—where I imagined her aura would be if I could actually see peoples’ auras—and it flowed out from her to the vamp and then back again in a swirling figure-of-eight. Then I realised it wasn’t air. It was power; turbo-charged power that almost obliterated the small spells stored in the ruby eyes of the earrings she wore. Somehow she was using it to blank the vamp’s presence in my flat, despite the fact she hit my radar as just plain human with no magical abilities. But then I’d always suspected she had a source of power from somewhere ... and power this strong meant Hannah was a sorcerer.

She’d done a deal with a demon.

Demons outrank vamps in the bad news stakes. Although one good thing about demons, they only ever turn up this side of hell when invited, and not even the stupidest sorcerer would issue an invitation without taking the necessary precautions. Hannah Ashby didn’t strike me as stupid, and a Consecrated Circle is kind of hard to miss.

Of course, some people’s demons are other people’s gods; it just depends on the religion, so that didn’t necessarily make her bad. But a demon’s power is like any tool, it’s what you do with it—and how you pay for it— that matters. Demons, like necromancers, don’t come cheap. And it’s the currency a sorcerer chooses that makes them either grey, black, or just plain old evil.

And since my good luck was in short supply lately, I was betting Hannah was the evil type.

Suppressing another spike of fear, I walked over to the kitchen, pulled out the vodka from the fridge’s icebox and a glass from the cupboard, placed them on the counter, and faced my unwanted visitors.

‘If we were all friends’—I unscrewed the bottle—‘I’d offer you a drink. But we’re not friends, so please, tell me whatever it is you’ve come to tell me, then take a not-so-subtle hint and vacate the premises. I’d appreciate it.’

‘I’m sure we can offer you something you’d appreciate more, Genevieve.’ Hannah executed an MC’s flourish towards the vampire, the light catching the silver death’s head ring with its emerald eyes on her ring finger. ‘Can’t we, Darius?’

Darius the vampire grinned at me, flashing all four of his fangs, and leisurely stripped out of the ankle-length black leather coat he wore. He swung it over his broad shoulder, leaving him standing there in nothing but his black calf-high boots and snug black Calvin Kleins. His grin widening, he rubbed his hand over his smooth-muscled pecs like he was adding more oil to his already glistening skin and then slowly walked his fingers down his six-pack, finally hitching his thumb into the low-slung waistband of his shorts. Decorating them was a wide-open diamanté mouth complete with red-beaded fangs that showcased his bulging package as it glittered provocatively in the overhead light. He tossed back his highlighted tawny-coloured hair as if to an unheard drum roll, then did a slow thrust and grind with his hips, finishing off by blowing me a kiss.

I sighed and gave him a so what? look. I’d seen it all before—there were plenty of acts like his down in Sucker Town in the blood-houses, performed by desperate, eager blood-pets. I’d also seen him before, when he’d still been human. Yep, the vamp doing his own version of a sucker lap-dance in my living room had not long graduated from being a blood-pet himself; he’d only had his fangs for just over a month. No wonder Hannah was able to lead him round like a bloodhound on a leash.

I pursed my lips at Hannah. ‘If he’s supposed to be auditioning for the Chippenfangs, you’ve come to the wrong place.’

She trailed her fingers over his well-defined bicep, her orange nails bright against his pale skin. ‘The Chippenfangs don’t even come close to Darius here.’ She gave me a conspiratorial smirk. ‘Believe me, I know.’

‘Great! Well, I’m sure we could swap sexual conquest stories all night, Hannah, but to be honest, I find it all a bit uninspiring. ’ I looked pointedly at the grinning vampire, who was now flexing the burgeoning part of his anatomy so the diamanté mouth just covering it was yawning its own wide grin. ‘So forget the show and get on with it.’

She chuckled, the sound low and husky. ‘Uninspiring is not a word I would use for Darius—satisfying, inventive, enduring, maybe, but—’ She opened her eyes wide as if an idea had just popped into her head. ‘Why don’t I give you a taster? The proof is in the eating—or in Darius’ case, in the drinking.’

Apprehension twisted like a sharp hook inside me. A drink sounded like exactly what I needed. Trouble was, alcohol wasn’t going to slake that need, or going to be much help with what was coming next. I wanted to physically shove them out of my home, maybe even do something impossible, like stun the pair of them, or magic them far, far away. But my total lack of ability at casting spells meant it so wasn’t going to happen. Instead, I carefully poured the vodka into the glass and, willing my hand not to shake, I lifted it in salute. ‘Knock yourselves out, why don’t you,’ I said, and took a composed sip, the icy alcohol a welcome burn down my throat.

Hannah smiled like a sweet shop owner who knows the kid’s got her nose pressed against the window and all she has to do is open the door. She stepped in front of Darius, then slowly shimmied back against him, sliding her hands behind to caress his hips. He dropped his coat, excitement dilating his pupils. Wrapping his arm round her waist he moulded her body to his, then pushed her head back to expose the length of her throat. I stared transfixed, my own cravings rising inside me, knowing they were deliberately taunting me, but unable to force myself to look away. They smiled, twin expressions of triumph. The vamp kept his eyes on mine as he licked a wet line along her bare shoulder and up the side of her neck to the lobe of her ear. He set her skull earring swinging with his tongue, then sucked it into his mouth. She sighed deeply and dug her nails into his thighs. His nostrils flared as he scented her and his eyes turned opaque with greed. With a quiet growl that had heat pooling in my own belly, he lowered his mouth to her pulse.

I held my breath, lust curdling like acid in my stomach, my grip on the bottle dissipating the chill, watching, waiting, for him to bite.

He struck, his fangs piercing her flesh, and she moaned and went limp in his arms. A trickle of blood leaked from between his lips where he fed. Mesmerised, I followed its course as it trailed over the ridge of her collar bone and snaked down between the mounds of her corseted breasts, which bloomed red with the heat of a venom- induced blood flush. He lifted her up and held her dangling, fast little pants coming between her parted lips as his bite brought her trembling and shaking to orgasm.

Then she was walking towards me, an inviting smile on her black-painted lips, the venom-bite already swelling at her throat. I blinked, confused, but as she reached me the scent of liquorice and sweet copper invaded my senses and I could think of nothing other than what I wanted. My mouth watered and I swallowed painfully, hunger cramping my stomach, lust tightening my nipples and slicking damp wet heat between my legs. I licked my dry lips before I could stop myself.

‘Such a long time, Genevieve, since you’ve had a taste.’ She touched her fingers to the bite at her throat, gasping a little as she pressed the tender skin and clear fluid seeped from the pinprick fang marks. I swayed towards her, drawn by the sight. ‘Why should you deny yourself when all you want is here for the taking?’ she murmured.

My heart thudded in my chest, deep echoing beats that thundered in my ears. A distant part of me knew what she was doing, offering me what I craved, tempting me, but I didn’t care. She was right. It had been too long.

She held her hand out to me, encouraging, enticing, her fingers so close to my mouth that all I needed to do was touch my tongue to the venom glistening on her fingertips—

I closed my eyes for a brief moment.

I was not going to do this.

I grabbed her wrist.

I was not going to give in to her, to it.

I held her hand where it was—

Was I?

I shoved her hand away. ‘Not biting, Hannah,’ I said and jerked my head at the scantily clad vamp grinning over her shoulder. ‘So take your fang-pet and get the fuck out.’

She pursed her lips, then nodded as if coming to a decision. ‘That’s what I like about you, Genevieve, you don‘t allow what’s in your blood to distract you from what’s important.’ She reached back and stroked her fingers down Darius’ smooth, muscled chest. ‘It’s something else we share.’

I clenched my hands to stop from reaching for her, not sure if I wanted to smash my fist into her face, sink