"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters," she retorted in sharp tones. "I've seen Firestarter. Do you think I want to be some freaking human torch?"
Dante was swift to smother his flare of humor at her fears. For all her courage, Abby was hanging by a thin thread.
"Lover, calm down. You aren't a human torch." Gently he reached for one of her hands and placed it to the center of his chest. Sharp, smoldering heat flared through him at her touch, but it had nothing to do with the power of the Phoenix. "See?"
"But…"
"Abby." He rested his forehead upon laer own, squeezing her fingers in silent comfort. "It's no different than your ability to stop a man with a well-aimed kick or using those nails as lethal weapons. It's just another tool. One that might very well keep you alive."
She remained stiff in his arms for a long moment, and then at last she gave a tearful chuckle. "Is there anything that ever bothers you?"
Pulling back, Dante traced the lone tear that ran down her cheek. "This bothers me. It makes me ache deep inside."
"Dante."
The vulnerability that softened her features was Dante's undoing. Before he could resist, his head was lowering to capture her lips in a soft kiss that shimmered through his very bones.
Slowly he tightened his arms about her shaking body, needing to comfort her in the only means possible. Bloody hell, he wanted to sweep her away from this devil-infested mess. An impossible desire, of course. Until they found the witches, all he could do was try to protect her and hope that she could endure the terrors yet to come.
Stroking his lips over her cheeks and down the length of her jaw, he patiently whispered words of encouragement until he sensed her trembling lessen.
"Abby, my love," he at last murmured, pulling back to meet her shadowed gaze. "We can no longer remain here. I think we should gather our things and prepare to leave. We don't know how many other zombies might be lurking about."
Although pale, Abby had once again regained her staunch courage. Wrapping her arms about her waist, she gave a determined lift of her chin.
"Where will we go?"
"To find the coven," he retorted without hesitation. "Which means I shall first have to speak with Viper."
Her brows rose in surprise. "He knows where the coven is?"
His lips twitched. "No. But he does possess what we need to find them."
"And what's that?"
'Transportation."
Chapter 7
It took Abby less than a quarter of an hour to slip on the clothes that Dante had brought for her and tie back her hair in a simple braid. Not surprising, really. There was nothing like a twice-dead body lying on the floor to kick a woman into turbo speed.
Not only was it disgusting, but the smell was certain to become ripe before long. Something she wasn't particularly anxious to experience.
Careful to avoid glancing in the mirror at the reflection that was no longer her own, she swiftly brushed her teeth and returned to the outer room where Dante awaited her.
A rueful flare of amusement rushed through her at the sight of him beside the door. While she looked as if she had spent the past two days rolling in alleys, being hunted by demons, and attacked by zombies, he was Versace perfect.
The raven hair was brushed from his lean, alabaster face to flow down his back. The black silk shirt was without a wrinkle as it shimmered over his chiseled torso, and a pair of black leather pants hugged his legs with oh-my-God results.
Even the wicked features were without fault. There were no shadows, no hint of weariness. Not even a five o'clock shadow.
It was damn well unfair, she decided as she continued forward. He could at least have bed head or a bit of sleep crusted in those magnificent eyes.
Oblivious to her ridiculous thoughts, Dante offered her an encouraging smile. "Are you ready?"
"Only in the proverbial 'as ready as I'll ever be' sense," she admitted wryly.
His pirate smile widened. "Good enough for now, I suppose. Let's go."
Together they left the apartment, moving down the hall to the elaborate lobby. Instead of heading toward the door, however, Dante led her toward the curved marble staircase. In silence they climbed to the top floor and toward the back of the building. Only when they stood before a pair of carved mahogany doors did Dante come to a halt.
She was trailing so closely behind him that she nearly ran into him when he abruptly turned to regard her with a frown.
"Look, Abby, I can't leave you on your own, not when we can't be certain it's safe."
Abby gave a lift of her brows. "Do you think I'm going to argue? After the past few hours, I plan to stick to you like glue."
"A very nice visualization. One I intend to ponder at length later, lover. Still…"
"What?"
His lips thinned. "This isn't the place for innocents."
Abby rolled her eyes heavenward. Were all vampires demented? She hadn't been innocent since the day she left the cradle.
"I'm not a child, Dante," she retorted darkly. "I don't think I was ever a child. I've seen more evil in my life than most people can even dream of."
His expression softened as he reached out to brush his fingers over her cheek.
"I know that, lover. It doesn't mean that in your heart you're not still pure. Unfortunately at this point, we don't have much choice. Just… stay close."
Wondering what new horrors could possibly be beyond the door, Abby gave a slow nod as she stepped next to him and wrapped her arms tightly about his waist.
'You'll have to use a cattle prod to get me off."
Dante gave a low moan as he briefly closed his eyes. "Bloody hell."
Abby frowned at his odd behavior. "Is something the matter?"
"If I weren't already dead, you'd have me in the grave, lover," he muttered; then, reaching out, he wrenched open the door. "Let's do this."
She might have puzzled on his odd words if he hadn't swept her over the threshold and into a shadowed room that pulsed with the sound of Eastern music.
A sheik's harem, she realized as she glanced about the circular chamber that was draped in flimsy gauze and spangled silk. About the floor were tossed dozens of large pillows, several of them occupied by a variety of men and women who breathed deeply of the opium smoke coming from the brass braziers.
It was the corners, however, that drew her attention.
Although it was dark, there was no mistaking the writhing forms and Joud groans that echoed through the shadows. She may have never attended an orgy, but she certainly recognized one when she stumbled across it
Feeling her stomach twist with disgust, she clung even tighter to Dante. She had thought that nothing could bother her—well, at least nothing of the human variety—but there was a dark, hungry decadence in the room that made her skin crawl.
It was the hopeless desperation, she decided. That familiar sickness of the spirit that she had battled for longer than she wanted to consider.
Putting an arm about her shoulder, Dante did his best to block her view as he firmly led her toward an alcove at the side of the room.
"Viper will be in the back," he muttered. 'That's where the—"
Whatever the might entail was sharply choked off by a sudden shriek that split the air, and Dante was pried away from Abby by a clearly furious woman.
Stunned by the unexpected attack, Abby stumbled backward, watching in amazement as the assailant gripped Dante by the neck and lifted him off his feet to pin him to the wall with astonishing ease.
A vampire, she swiftly recognized. Not only would a mortal woman be incapable of tossing a grown man about with such ease, but she possessed that alien beauty that marked her as something more than human.
Far more than human, Abby acknowledged as Dante held out a hand to keep her from approaching.
As tall as Dante, the female vampire possessed a willowy body barely covered by a token sheath of gauze and hair past her waist that contained the rare shade of a golden sunrise. Her face was thin, almost feline with smoldering green eyes and lush lips that could fulfill any man's fantasy.
And she was clearly in a PMS mood.
Not struggling, Dante nevertheless regarded his captor with a wary gaze.
"Sasha."
"Dante. Now this is a delicious surprise," the woman purred. "You can't imagine how many days I have dreamed of just this moment."
Abby stiffened at the unmistakable tone. Hell, she wasn't attacking Dante because he was protecting the Phoenix.
She was his ex.
A startling flare of something that might have been jealousy raced through Abby as she folded her arms over her chest. This was the sort of woman he desired? Gorgeous, powerful, and immortal?
The… toad.
"An old friend of yours?" Abby demanded.
"Something like that," Dante conceded, his lips twisting in wry humor. "Now, Sasha, this isn't the time for one of our petty spats."
"Petty?" The woman narrowed her gaze to dangerous slits. 'You locked me in a cellar."
