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An Excerpt From: BLOOD OF THE DAMNED
Copyright © ANYA BAST, 2006.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
Jade stepped
into the nearly pitch-black room. It took a second for her eyes to adjust
to the darkness. The floor and walls were concrete. The ceiling appeared to
be constructed of that same ancient steel that comprised the rest of the
prison. No furniture decorated the cell. There was nothing at all.
Except him.
The man she
sought knelt on the floor, his arms strung out on
either side of him and bound at the wrists by thick chains attached to the walls.
They’d left his chest bare and his dark head was bowed. Long, straggling
dark hair and a beard shadowed his face. They’d put him in an uncomfortable
position, obviously designed to punish. Though Jade figured this vamp
hardly felt the pain.
“Why is he
restrained this way?” she asked sharply of the guard.
“Killed an
inmate last week. Some asshole stupid enough to mess with an Embraced.” The
guard spat on the floor. “Saved us the cost of executin’
him.”
Niccolo Romano
raised his head and let his gaze slowly rove her in the same way the
guard’s had earlier. He parted his lips a little and she saw his
fangs—white and sharp—in his mouth. She stifled the urge to kick him in the
face. Had they been feeding him synth-blood to
keep him sated? Or maybe blood hunger had been how he’d killed the inmate.
Maybe Romano had drained him.
“Leave me
alone with him,” she said without looking at the guard.
“You sure—”
Keeping her
eyes on Romano’s face, she ground out, “I said leave me alone with him.”
She heard the
guard turn and leave.
Romano just
stared at her. His long black hair hung around his well-chiseled face. The
darkness of his hair seemed to swallow up all the light around his head,
giving her the impression he thirsted for it…or maybe she was just
projecting. She’d done her reading on this guy, knew what a hard history
he’d had.
She knew a
lot about him, but they hadn’t told her what the Embraced would look like.
She hadn’t been expecting this. Even dirty and unkempt this man radiated
power, strength and overall physical perfection. She let her gaze trace
over his muscled legs, torso and arms. The man had to be unstoppable in a
fight. She was preternaturally strong, but she doubted she’d be able to
take this man in combat. She certainly didn’t want to try.
“Niccolo Romano,” she said, her
voice loud in the small cell. “You’ve been remanded into my custody.”
“Have I been
loaned out again?” His voice was a deep baritone and smooth, silky dark
chocolate. There was just the faintest trace of an unplacable
accent. Jade knew his original tongue had been Latin, but he’d sailed
through several civilizations since then.
She took a
couple steps toward him, her boot heels clicking on the concrete floor.
“You’ve been passed around a lot in the last two hundred years, I’ve heard.
In and out of different agencies, bartered around for special initiatives.”
She shrugged. “But every time they’re finished with you, they throw you
back in here like a well-used whore.”
His dark eyes
flashed with anger and his huge hands fisted loosely.
So, he wasn’t
broken and he still had pride. That was good.
She paced in
front of him. “Yeah, you’re being loaned out again, but this time when
you’re finished you get your freedom.”
His body went
very still and power sizzled through the air, a flare of his glamour
brushing against her magick. The powerful force
raised the fine hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck. She stopped
pacing.
“My freedom.”
His voice sounded flat, expressionless. She could get no emotional read on
him because he was an Embraced. The man was stoic as a rock, anyway.
Jade crossed
her arms over her chest, hearing the creak of the leather she wore. “Don’t
you want it? I mean, everyone knows how you allowed yourself to be arrested
so long ago. Still, don’t you think three hundred years is punishment
enough?”
“What’s the
job?”
“You won’t
object to it, Romano. Anyway, we wouldn’t be able to keep you if you did.”
Niccolo
Romano—that wasn’t the name he’d been born with, of course—had a knack for death,
a talent for it. It was what he did best; bring death to those who deserved
it. She’d heard all the stories. When this man had walked down the street,
everyone had gotten the hell out of his way. On some level, most of them
could probably sense that death walked beside this man, that it was an old
friend and constant companion of his. Everyone had a little psi ability, a little intuition. This man sent out a
danger signal louder than a storm siren. Someone would have to be near
brain-dead not to perceive it.
This was a
man who’d murdered his way through the centuries. Innumerable men had lost
their lives to him. Still, she’d done enough research on him to know that
he wouldn’t kill innocents. The vamp wouldn’t aid in senseless destruction.
He couldn’t be used as force against the greater good…well, not most the
time. If someone had the right leverage on him, he could be forced into it.
That was his biggest weakness. But the bottom line was that, even two
thousand years since he’d been Embraced, the man was still a protector.
That’s why
they needed him.
He said
nothing. He only lowered his gaze to her boots.
She raised an
eyebrow. He didn’t want to talk anymore? Fine. It was past time they got
out there, anyway. She turned. “I’ll get the guard and the keys for those
chains.
“How do you
know I won’t just kill you and take off?”
She stopped,
but didn’t turn toward him. Jade smiled a little. “I know a lot about you,
Romano, more than even your closest friends. I know you won’t.”
She tracked
down the guard who cast a nervous glance at her before he plied the
security code to the release mechanism on the outside of the cell. The
hydraulic cuffs released and fell with a ringing clank and chink of the
chain. She noticed the vamp’s wrists bled from the rasp of iron against
skin. Dried blood marked him from fingers to elbow.
He pushed to
his feet with muscles that didn’t seem the least fatigued from the awkward
position he’d been sustaining. Romano stood before her dressed in a pair of
gray prison pants, a pair of black prison-issue boots and nothing else.
He was tall
and he was ripped. She’d seen that when he’d been kneeling. He made her
respond like a woman did to a man. Her reaction was instant, primal and
wholly unwelcome. This man made her whole body sit up and take notice. He
made her heart rate and breathing speed up. He made her cunt
cream just a little. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made
that happen. She thought it had all but dried up.
He walked
toward her with menace set into his shoulders and his swagger. She had the
urge to back away from him, but stood her ground. He stopped right in front
of her, so close his breath—the sweet, calm-inducing breath of the
Embraced—stirred the fine hairs around her face. The heat of him rolled off
and warmed her. Despite the threat in his eyes, her body started a slow
burn. Her sex began to throb and nipples became sensitive.
Man, oh, man.
Romano’s eyes
were hard and cold, the lines of his face set in a cruel expression. He had
a face that could be either beautiful or brutal depending on the light, his
expression…or his mood, she’d make a guess.
“Who said I’d agree to help you?” he snarled
in a low voice. “Who said I was ready leave this
place? Who sent you for me?”
A flicker of
apprehension raced through her stomach, but she held his gaze steadily. Goddess,
please, sweet Morrigan, I hope we haven’t
misjudged this man. “The Council of the Embraced,” she said in a steady
voice. “The Federation, the Order of the Morrigan…and
Gabriel Letourneau.”
Niccolo’s eyes
blinked and unfocused for a moment as she uttered the last on the list.
She took
advantage of his surprise, and turned and walked out the door and past the
guard. Her heart pounded in her chest. Romano would follow if he wanted out
of here.
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