Bit of a Bite

New Moon's Witching Hour

He didn’t lunge to attack; in fact the man facing her seemed even more amused than he had before. That same half lift of his lips still putting a singular dimple out on display as pale blue eyes travelled from her head to toe. With a shrug he drained his espresso and set it back down.

“I, Darius Kane, hereby swear no harm of any sort, including mental torture and death, will come to Allison Kincaid by either my hand or my will until the day either of us shall perish.” His words were soft, whispered with the kind of intimacy she wondered if he used on all of his probably victims. A shift in his posture and then he was leaning towards he with a delighted light shimmering in his pale blue eyes, “you’re safe now, my little duckling.”

She prickled underneath his stare, hating both his condescending tone and choice in endearments.

“Call me duckling again, and I’ll stake you to the wall.”

“Depending on placement, I could work with that.” His warm chuckle filled the café, turning more than just a couple of heads in their direction. The attention was another reminder of exactly what she was playing with.

An ancient vampire, powerful as sin, had been drawn to her when she had her shields up. It wasn’t supposed to be possible. The fact that it apparently was very possible made her skin tighten and prickle with goosebumps. How many others had sensed her? Did the demons know where she was now? Her eyes darted to the entrance, scanning each and every face in the nighttime crowd.

Mundanes, an imp, more mundanes, no demons. She fought back the shiver that threatened to leave her shaking and held the empty cup of espresso a little tighter. Maybe she could feed off its lingering warmth through osmosis.

“Allison, come back.”

Darius’s warm voice, filled with concern, snapped her eyes back to his. There was true worry there, lingering in his pale eyes as they studied her face.

“Where did you go?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just distracted. Do you know how long it has been since I sat with someone who not only knows what I am but isn’t trying to kill me?” a soft shake of her head knocked one of her braids loose. The plait fell well past her chest and she scowled down at her before laughing. Her laugh was borderline, the sort that came about from stress or surprise. “I suck at playing human, don’t I?”

His smile turned sad while she stared down at her hair. Darius wondered absently what sort of enigma this creature was as his fingers reached out of their own will. Plucking the braid from her shoulder to slip it back into the design on her head, he let his eyes roam over the Celtic knots.

“Honestly? I thought you were just a psychic when I first saw you. There was a draw as if you had power, not the sort I feel around immortals. My original plan was to lure you back home for a late night snack, but when I saw the runes on your back I realized there was something off.” He smiled and leaned away, half worried he’d scare her if he crowded her. The grateful smile was well worth the loss of her pulse’s warmth as he continued, “I tried to lure you with parlor tricks and it didn’t work so I turned up the notch and realized you weren’t human when you turned down my power.”

A shrug, like it was inconsequential even though that one moment had started a whirlwind of questions in his mind. Not even Lucien, for all his years and boasts of power, could stand against a little wash of Darius’s abilities. The fact the older man hadn’t killed him over it yet told him just how scared his master was.

But here, this witch deflected his persuasion as if she were batting away a fly. Her name, Allison Kincaid, didn’t raise any alarms. The last time he’d heard a similar name was over eight-hundred years prior and he doubted even with that immortality charm on her skin she would have survived so long.