Taking, violating…versus coaxing, seducing. It would be nothing to slide into her. Release that hot flood of rich blood. White light shot down to his hips and burned over his back. Take.
She was well asleep.… She would enjoy it. She would moan and her eyes would flutter behind her lids and she might perhaps spread her legs so that he could slip a hand into that warm crook, pleasure her while she dreamed.
And then, suddenly, Voss felt something pushing into him.
Poking into his torso.
“Get away.”
Her words, cold and low, were unmistakable. And the pressure in his torso could only be…
Voss eased back and saw that, yes, indeed, she had a whittled wooden stick pressing against him. A bit too low for his heart, but too close, nevertheless. She must have pulled it from beneath the covers.
She’d been sleeping with a stake. Expecting him?
He tried to smile, but it felt weak. Surprisingly his fangs had retracted, although his gums still throbbed a bit.
“Get away from me,” she said again, and jabbed him hard enough that he felt a definite point through his shirt, into the soft part of belly below his sternum.
Hands raised in placation, he shifted off the bed. “All right, then. There’s no need to be overset.”
To his chagrin and delight, Angelica sat up, still holding the stake like a talisman in front of her. Her technique left much to be desired, for it wobbled a bit, and it wasn’t quite at the right angle…but Voss was not about to underestimate the sister of a renowned vampire hunter.
“Get out of here,” she said from between tight jaws. “Or I’ll scream.”
“Corvindale isn’t here to rush to your assistance,” Voss couldn’t help but mention.
“Are you certain of that?” she replied steadily.
He relaxed a bit and leaned slightly against the bed with his thigh. “Of course. He’s searching the City for yours truly, Angelica. He’d never think to look for me here.”
“What do you want?” She obviously couldn’t find an argument for that, so she tried a different tact. “To finish what you started? Are you going to bleed me dry and tear me into ribbons of flesh?” Bitterness filled her voice.
Voss’s belly tightened. Never. “No,” he said. “Of course not.”
She sniffed and the play of moonlight over her face told him that her jaw tightened.
Angelica could have no idea how enticing she looked at that moment, with the pearly light half illuminating the details of her face, and the dip and curve of her shoulder. The strap of her night rail was nothing but a three-finger-wide pink ribbon, and the eyelet lace that edged the straight neckline gapped a bit. Her lips were gently parted and full, and the cloud of dark waves cascaded over her shoulders and onto the pillows.
The only aspect marring that beautiful image was the loathing burning in her eyes. Even in the ineffective light, he saw it. The smile he’d tried to force wavered.
“What do you want, then?” she said again, still as coldly as before.
This was not as simple as he’d expected it to be. Voss knew he could easily overpower her, remove the stake from her hand and do whatever he wanted. He could take what he needed, and be gone from London within hours.
The sharp, pounding pain radiating over his back urged him to grab those delicate shoulders and drag her to him. Take.
“I have something for you,” he said, pulling two velvet pouches from the inside of his coat. “And for your sister. An apology. To both of you.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” Her voice was cold, and she didn’t even glance at the jewelry bags.
“Nevertheless, I shall leave them. Perhaps your sister will accept them. They are quite valuable.” He turned and set them on her dressing table. The gifts were really more for Dimitri’s sake than Angelica’s.
“Very well, then. You’ve delivered your apology—unwelcome as it is. Now leave.”
“I also came to ask that you use your Sight to give me information.”
Her eyes widened in shock, and those delicious lips pruned up like an old maid’s. “You came to ask a favor of me? Why in God’s name would I do anything for you?”
Voss winced at her use of the name of God—or perhaps it was simply the Mark—and he once again tried to adopt a placating smile. “Because if you assist me, I’ll leave London and I won’t bother you ever again.”
Despite her bitterness and loathing, he didn’t expect her reaction to be quite as quick and businesslike as it was. “You’d leave London? Is that a vow? Because if it is, I would be most happy to make such a bargain.”
Something panged uncomfortably in the vicinity of his heart and even his belly squeezed—like it did in the morning after too much blood whiskey and ale and wine had all mixed up and sloshed around. “You have my word,” he said.
Angelica snorted in that ladylike way that had amused him previously. “What is it then?”
Voss pulled out the slender gold chain from a different pocket inside his coat. When he’d first acquired it, he hadn’t realized that it would be put to use in this way, but now that he knew Angelica’s secret, it made perfect sense.
“It isn’t a glove—I know that you prefer gloves,” he said, looking at her purposely. He forced himself to say it. “You read death on my glove, didn’t you? Will you tell me what you saw?”
“What I saw is not at all to my liking.”
Voss stilled. Waited. But she said nothing further. “Angelica?”
“It’s not to my liking because I saw nothing. I would that I’d foretold a violent, imminent death for you.”
“You saw nothing?” He wasn’t certain whether to be alarmed or relieved. Did that mean he wasn’t to die? Ever? Something like relief blossomed.
“Are you hard of hearing?” She held out her hand. “Give me the chain and be off with you.”
“You will attempt it?”
“Leave it with me, and I’ll meditate upon it. I’ll send you a message in the morning through Rubey with any information I can cull from the chain.” The stake shifted warningly in her hand, its point still aimed at him.
Voss hid his surprise. “But how can I trust that you will follow through on our agreement, Angelica?” He allowed his voice to caress her name the way he had done to her shoulder.
That very same shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug. “You will have to trust me.” Her eyes narrowed and she straightened. For a moment, he saw something else besides hatred and anger there. It might have been hurt.
“And how am I to know that you wouldn’t send me a message simply so that you can advise Corvindale of my direction?”
Her lips quirked a bit. “A brilliant suggestion. Thank you, Dewhurst. I’m not certain I would have thought of that myself in my haste to rid London of your vile presence. Now, if you please, remove yourself from my chamber. And this house.”
He couldn’t leave. “Don’t you wish to know to whom that watch chain belongs?”
Again, a shrug. His eyes followed the shift of moonlight over the hollow of her shoulder and he swallowed, clenching his teeth. “I couldn’t care less about anything in regards to you. Now, Dewhurst, if you please…I should like to return to my slumber. You interrupted a very delightful dream.”
“I don’t suppose I figured in your nocturnal visions,” he said, lowering his voice and allowing his eyes to glow a bit. “But you have appeared in mine. Angelica…” He dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from reaching for her…and to distract himself from the pain.
Her shoulders shifted back and her breasts thrust forward and he nearly lunged for her at that point. “Indeed you have,” she said, surprising him again. But her voice had dropped and for the first time, it was unsteady. “You’ve figured quite vividly—in my darkest nightmares. This is the first night I’ve slept without Maia since I returned.”