Ava tore into the medium-rare steak and moaned in delight.
Mal glared at her. “It’s a steak, Ava. Take it easy, it isn’t going anywhere,” he said between a mouthful of food.
“One day, Mal, you’re going to sit down and order a burger without the knowledge it’s the best burger in the world, and it will change your life.” She carved out another piece and dredged it around in garlic butter. The garlic thing was a myth according to Cassius. Can’t ever be too careful. Vamps are known to be liars, right? She reached for her glass of wine.
“You should be studied in a lab.” Mal dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a black napkin.
“Then who will save your ass when you get in too deep?” She smirked.
“I don’t need you to save me, Ava. I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own. I have for years.” He threw his napkin down before rising and making his way to the men’s room.
Ouch, must have struck a nerve.
It was true, he had done the slayer thing on his own for the last ten years—since he found out their parents had been killed by vampires. It was why he left in the first place. He’d never intended for her to know but that all changed when the angel of death had marked her.
Mal had been a mess over it. He blamed himself, and in part, it was his fault. He thought if she didn’t know, she’d be safer, but clearly that hadn’t worked out. Still, all circumstances aside, even Mal couldn’t deny that Ava had a particular talent for slaying, just like he did. Except her talents went beyond combat technique.
It was her quick thinking that had saved him from a rogue vamp a year ago. He would have been dead if she hadn’t realized what had happened. He’d never admit it though.
She waited as long as she could before taking a final sip of her wine and looking back at the lascivious vamp. He smiled at her and she did her best to bat her eyelashes before rising.
She sauntered past his table, letting her fingers touch his shirt sleeve as she passed, leaving her scent, the scent of the mark, which was enough to make him jolt. She barely made it to the women’s room before he was at her back.
The vamp’s thrall wasn’t the heaviest she had ever felt but it wasn’t anything to overlook either. She could feel it against her mind like a wave. He angled his body close to hers. “Come with me. Now.” His voice was reedy and dry. She could tell he was hungry.
She did her best to flirt. “I don’t normally do this sort of thing... Perhaps we could take this outside?” She fluttered her eyelashes as she ran her fingers down his arm, pressing her breasts against him.
“All the better.” He let his fangs show fully, stark white against his lips.
“Okay..” She made a point of looking him directly in his eyes.
He grabbed her hand, his fingers cold and hard around her marked wrist.
She followed him through the kitchen, the staff none the wiser as the waves of his thrall emanated from him like a shield.
When they made it through the back doors, she expected Mal to jump him immediately.
Except Mal was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Eight
The vamp pushed her up against the back wall with full force as he grabbed her jaw in his hand, his fangs protruding. “I’m looking forward to this,” he said as his tongue darted through his teeth like a snake.
Ava pulled him closer and wrapped her leg around his hip, the motion pushing her dress up just enough. She ran her hand over his arms and down his torso toward her leg. His hand settled at her waist and pulled against her back. His cold touch turned her skin to gooseflesh.
Her eyelids felt heavy and she started to grow lightheaded. His thrall was starting to settle in. His lips hovered above her neck and the memory of razor-sharp fangs and warm tongues filled her thoughts. She was startled to realize her heart was racing.
Ava focused her mind the way Mal had taught her—sifting through her thoughts and memories like clearing a path. Imagining a divide—like a wall or a shield—she tore her eyes away from the vamp, her fingers wrapping themselves around her stake as she arched her back. He didn’t even notice when she slipped the stake out of her garter.
With a steady hold against his thrall, in one swift motion she swung the stake.
“Back up, buttercup.” She growled as she pressed the stake into his chest.
He sneered at her with a hiss.
She stared into his eyes with challenge. The combination of the fire at her wrist and the return to her senses gave her a sense of victory—even if it was small. She refused to look away, even though she heard the crashing of the doors behind them.
She prayed Mal had made his entrance.
“I hope you plan on saving some for me.” The voice was unfamiliar but the thrall coming off of the man told her it was one of the other vamps. And he was much older, his thrall heavier. Her eyes started to flutter again and lust formed in her belly. Her blood raced, the mark hot against her skin as her breath hitched. Her wall cracked and a feeling of need overcame her.
Focus, Ava. She pushed back, searching for her lost control.
The other vamp walked into her line of sight and looked at her with a penetrating gaze. He was taller than the one before her, not buff but noticeably toned and lean. His dark hair was slicked down as if he had slathered the hair gel on like lotion, and his features were angular, set with a profound nose and thin lips. He was dark, foreboding and ancient, exactly as she’d always imagined Hades.
Ava focused her thoughts on the stake in her hands, trying her hardest to push it into the vamp’s chest, but... She couldn’t even move her hand. Or the rest of her body. All she could do was look into the eyes of Hades as he moved alongside her.
Hades glanced at the first vamp and he moved without question. Ava felt his hand drop and she fell, trying to brace for the shock of the thrall as it surged through her and out.
What in the... Ava turned her head in the opposite direction as she glanced between the two vampires, her fingers poised around her stake tightly. The realization that the thrall had dissipated left her in control.
She forced herself upright as she regained mobility. Adrenaline surged through her and she lunged at the vamp.
“It is such a shame really.” Hades put a hand up and Ava felt the paralyzing feeling of immobility.
How is he doing that? Where the hell is Mal?!
Her eyes started to droop again.
“Why he has left you to fend for yourself all these years, I can’t understand it.” Hades plucked the stake right out of her hand; she couldn’t even stop him. “Especially when you are so ripe for the picking.” He licked his lips hungrily.
Damn his thrall... Ava’s head swam with thoughts, making it hard to focus. Her breath hitched as his fingers grazed hers, sending a shockwave directly through her body. She closed her eyes as warmth encased her.
The image of fangs and the scent of blood boiled to the surface; it was a heady cocktail. The memory was always there, brimming just beneath the surface. The memories barraged through her mind; the feeling of serenity, of peacefulness mingled with pain, of the blood running down her legs from the wounds the vampires had inflicted. But there were other memories too—powerful ones, like the first time she’d stabbed a vamp in the chest.
“Maybe it's because I can take care of myself.” Ava’s voice was needy and lustful but the words were still her own. For now.