The Darkest Kiss

else, something I couldn’t quite define. Something that felt dangerous and exciting all at the same time.

She stopped so close that her wispy gown swirled around my legs, encasing them in a sea of red. I clenched my fingers, fighting the desire to step back, to escape the heat and feel of her, and watched her face. Watching the anticipation in her brown eyes grow as she drew closer.

Then her lips brushed mine. Tentatively, gently. They were surprisingly cool and soft, and not unpleasant, however much I wanted them to be. I didn’t react, holding myself still, not wanting to prolong the contact.

She opened her eyes, stared deep into mine. “A kiss takes two people, guardian. React, or the payment will not be accepted.”

Her lips touched mine again, and after a moment of hesitation, I moved into them, kissing her gently but thoroughly. It was a strange kiss, a passionless kiss, and yet it was a kiss that had my nerves tingling and pulse racing. It wasn’t desire. It was fear of the unknown.

I had a bad, bad feeling that more than just lip-tasting was going on.

I pulled away, felt the coolness of the room caress my skin, washing away the heat of her. She smiled, and flicked her skirts away from my legs. “You do not taste like a wolf, guardian.”

“You got your kiss, vampire. I want my name.”

She considered me for a moment, then said, “Aron Young.”

“Got that,” Sal said into my ear. “Instigating search.”

“Thank you,” I said, more to Sal than Vinny. I stepped back again, relishing the distance each step was giving me. “If he happens to return, Vincenta, please call the Directorate straightaway.”

“I will. I’d hate to have the force of the mighty Directorate brought down on me.” Her voice gently mocked. “I will see you again, guardian.”

No, you fucking won’t, I thought, and got the hell out of there.

Rhoan still hadn’t arrived back home when I woke the following morning. I picked up the storm of clothes that were still scattered everywhere, dumping them all back into their various baskets, then made myself a coffee and some breakfast and turned on the TV to see if I could catch a glimpse of him and Liander on the entertainment channels.

I didn’t, but they walked in the door about ten minutes later, arms around each other, both of them half undressed and looking more than a little worse for the wear.

“You two,” I said, around a mouthful of cereal, “look like shit.”

Liander waved a hand and gave me a silly grin. “But we’re feeling fine.”

He tripped over the end of the rug as he said it, and would have fallen flat on his face if Rhoan hadn’t hauled him upright. Though that effort caused the two of them to stagger sideways, missing the coat stand by the merest of inches. I snorted. Drunk as skunks, the pair of them.

I dumped my cereal on the coffee table, then got up and walked to the kitchen to flick on the kettle. “I gather last night went well?”

“Very. The effects are a hit.”

Leather groaned as the two of them fell more than sat on the sofa.

“What about the movie itself?”

“You know what the movie business is like. Some will rave, some will tear it apart, some will equivocate.” Liander waved a hand about airily, then leaned into Rhoan’s arm. “The effects looked gorgeous, and that’s all I was worried about.”

Rhoan gave him a hug, then looked at me. “So how did you fill in the evening while we were out partying?”

Of the two of them, he looked slightly less pickled. Though at least both of them could talk without slurring their sentences. I leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and smiled. “I went out and kissed a girl.”

They both blinked owlishly at me for a moment, then Rhoan said, “What?”

I didn’t answer straightaway, making them coffee first, then sitting back down and reclaiming my breakfast. “The girl was a vamp who wasn’t a bloodsucker, and I kissed her to get the name of a rogue who was beating up an accountant.”

“So what was it like?” Liander asked. “Kissing a girl, I mean?”

“Not in the least bit arousing.” Which was the truth, and yet not the whole truth. I picked up my coffee and took a sip. The fact was, the caress of her lips had haunted a good part of my dreams, but the cause was trepidation rather than desire. Even my dreams had been filled with the certainty that something more than lip-locking had happened.

Rhoan untangled himself from Liander and leaned forward. “Why would you kiss a vamp to get information? Why didn’t you just read her mind or beat it out of her?”

I waved my spoon at him. “It’s not polite to run around beating up women.”

“It is when they’re vamps who could beat the shit out of most normal people.”

“We’re not normal people.” We weren’t even normal in the nonhuman sense of the word. According to Jack —who apparently kept an eye on such things—we were the rarest of the rare. Who’d have thought, after all those years of getting beaten up because we were half-breeds?

He waved the comment away. “They don’t know that. So why kiss her when you didn’t want to?” He hesitated a moment, then added with a cheeky grin, “Or did you?”

“I’m still hetero all the way, bro. Trust me on that.” I took a sip of coffee, then added, “I tried reading her mind, but it felt like falling into a black hole.”

“So why not use threats or force? If she’s withholding evidence, you’re entitled to.”

I shrugged. “Beating her up would have been an exercise in stupidity. She had forty of her get living with her and those sort of odds are a little overwhelming.”

“Forty?” He frowned. “How does any one vampire control that many fledglings? And how would they even manage to all live together?”

I finished off my cereal, then dumped the bowl back on the table and said, “She wasn’t a blood vamp, but rather some sort of emotional vampire. Apparently living together is a requirement for suckers who feed off emotion.”

“There’re vamps who feed off emotion?” Liander said. “That’s a somewhat horrific thought.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No worse than blood vamps, really.”

He snorted. “It’s hard to miss a blood vamp feeding off you. Bet the same couldn’t be said of an emotional vampire.”

He had a point. Especially if all emotional vamps had an aura as strong as Vinny’s.

“You reported their presence to Jack?” Rhoan asked.

“Yep.”

“Good.” He paused to sip his coffee. “So why were you even there rescuing this accountant? Did it have something to do with that phone call you got last night?”

I nodded and explained why Ben had rung, then added, “Which is why I kissed the vamp. To get the name before he attacks someone else.”

“So it’s not someone connected to this Ben fellow?” Liander asked.

“Ben doesn’t seem to think he’s the connection, but I haven’t talked to him since getting the name. Could turn out that he does know this Aron Young.”

Which wouldn’t be a good thing, because Young’s actions had earned him an execution order. Vamps involved in the torture of others didn’t live all that much longer than those actually killing—simply because one crime usually developed into the other anyway. And if Ben was a good friend, he’d come under Directorate scrutiny as well.

Liander frowned. “That name rings a bell.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You know someone called Aron Young?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said it rings a bell.”

“I’m sure there’s more than one Aron Young out there,” Rhoan said dryly.

Liander sniffed. “Well, of course there is. I’m just saying the name seems familiar.”

“Well,” I said, grabbing my cup and bowl as I rose. “Let me know if you remember. Meanwhile, I’m heading into the Directorate. You want me to let Jack know you’re going to be late?”

“No need.” Rhoan’s voice was decidedly smug. “I’ve got the day off. Some of us do occasionally think ahead