Eternal Sin

She looked up from the couch, which was missing two of its cushions and the one that remained had several gaping holes in it. “Unprotected.” She snorted. “So arrogant for one so pretty.”

Pretty, eh? He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. He headed into one of the bedrooms. Dani followed him. If it was possible, the room was even worse than the living room. The floors were wrecked and damaged from water, and it looked as though at some point in time the entire contents of the Rain Forest had been blown through the broken window.

“So, you know where I’m bunking down,” he said, turning to face her. “Where do you live?”

“Oh, here and there.”

“Never heard of it. Is it as nice as this?”

“Not even close.” She grinned and checked out the adjoining bathroom. “You have running water. ’Course, it’s probably running brown this time of year, but who do you really have to shower for anyway?”

How pissed would she be if he grabbed her, kissed her, and asked her how bad he smelled? He imagined pretty pissed, but the thought made him grin.

“So you don’t live with the Avians, then?” he asked, checking out the dirty broken window.

“I’m a nonconformist. I sorta do my own thing.”

Shocker, Phane thought with a chuckle. “Do you have a male?”

“Uh . . . exactly how is that any of your business, vampire hawk?”

He turned, his back to the window, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m interested in you.”

His honesty must’ve stunned her. But only for a few seconds. “Really?”

He nodded. “So? Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Have a male?”

She grinned wide and wicked, and Phane’s chest tightened with desire. That is, until she said, “I have many males.”

The front door opened and soon Helo appeared in the doorway. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Phane laughed. “Thank Dani. It’s all her doing.”

Helo turned to the female and glared. “Thanks, Dani.”

“Sure thing,” she answered. “Try not to stay too long.”

“Hospitable, ain’t she?” Phane muttered to Helo, then followed Dani out of the bedroom and over to the front door. “Come again soon,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

She grinned wickedly at him as she passed. “I always do, bloodsucker. I always do.”

“You know, I’m not just a vampire,” he called to her back.

She turned around. “Oh, I know. Feathers and talons and—”

“Fangs.”

“Oh, my!”

He laughed.

Her grin widened. “And what does that make you exactly?”

He lifted his eyebrows and lowered his voice. “Intriguing.”

“Vampire. Hawk. Hmmm . . . What else is in there I should know about? Human, maybe?” She widened her eyes dramatically. “Gargoyle?”

His mouth twitched. He would have this female. Nothing and no one would get in his way. And if they tried, he’d make sure to schedule a little blood taste test.

“Maybe I could show you sometime,” he said casually.

“Maybe. But right now I have plans.” She started walking away, down to a patch of flat ground.

“Hot date?” he called.

She stripped down, tossed her clothes into a tree, and shouted back, “Is there any other kind?” before she shifted into her hawk and spread her wings wide.

Phane watched her take off and sail into the air, his dick hardening with every beat of her incredible wings.

* * *

The alley stank of human food and human sex.

Two things that held absolutely no interest to Synjon.

“He still in the Rain Forest?”

Adrian nodded, his fangs a quarter inch lower than they should be in primarily human territory, even in the late hours of the night.

“Does he know I’m no longer there?”

Again Adrian nodded.

“Then why does he remain?” Synjon asked the male who had his sister’s eyes and burnt auburn hair. “Why isn’t he coming after me? And more important, as his very trusted guard, why aren’t you assisting him?”

Juliet’s brother, the only other male on earth who wanted Cruen to suffer more than Synjon, glanced down the alley and sighed. “He was on his way out, on his way to you, when some water shifters stopped him.”

“Water shifters?” Synjon narrowed his eyes. “What did they want?”

“They remembered him. From when he was there collecting samples.” Adrian laughed bitterly, his breath smoky in the frigid air. “They told him they had a power source of some kind.”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“What is it?” Synjon demanded.

“No idea. They wouldn’t let me go with him.”

“Go back, Adrian. Find out what it is, if it works, how it works. I need him as weak and defenseless as possible.”

The male nodded. “Is the plan still the same? His next flash is to you.”

A week ago, Syn would’ve given the paven before him, the paven who had the same eyes as the female Cruen had stolen, then killed, a rapid-fire affirmative, but tonight he hesitated. And bloody hell, he despised that hesitation. He wanted Cruen. He wanted to torture and maim and make that bastard beg, but right now Petra was asleep in his house, the balas sleeping with her. Was he truly bringing Cruen into the new, almost blissful world he’d just created?

“Syn.”

He looked up. “The room’s ready to go.”

Adrian reached out and the two clasped hands. “Juliet will finally be avenged,” he said with deep feeling.

A feeling that no longer existed within Synjon. “You’d better get back.”

The male nodded. “Later, brother.”

Adrian flashed from the alley, and Syn walked out, down a few side streets and onto Broadway, which was still sporting moderately heavy foot traffic, even at this hour. Christmas swag and lights shocked his senses at every turn as he moved through the crowds at a brisk pace. He could’ve flashed home when Adrian flashed back to the Rain Forest, but he needed some air, some time to get his head together. His emotions about Juliet and her death were gone, but not his commitment to bringing the male who killed her to justice.

Why couldn’t he stay the course on this?

He was just rounding the corner of Forty-fourth Street when something caught his eye in a brightly lit window of one of the shops. He slowed and went to check it out. The toy store was closed, but the front window was lit and dressed for the holidays. A large toddler-size bear sat on a small leather bench in front of a child-size Steinway, its fuzzy paws placed on the keyboard to look as though it was playing.

Petra’s incomplete query rolled through his mind. What would the balas inherit from him? His face? His sharpness? His hatred of his grandfather?

His gaze moved over the well-made instrument.

Would the balas have his abilities at the piano?

That unwelcome, though now strikingly familiar something pinged inside him. His desires had expanded beyond the simple two of physical release and unemotionally executed vengeance. Now they included a female he