Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
Hong Kong
Present Day
Jayla’s penthouse office on the top of Dreamscape Resorts offered a number of perks. It was the size of most local apartments and furnished in brilliant shades of crimson and gold. Best of all, it had a glass wall that offered a stunning view of the city skyline and the nearby Victoria Harbour.
There had to be some payoff for the aggravation of managing a resort that catered to endless hordes of customers during the year and employed nearly a thousand workers—both human and demon. She loved the challenge, but she was in dire need of me-time each evening to soothe her nerves.
Now, she sat next to the glass wall, a small lacquer table set in front of her. On the table was a tray, precisely arranged with her pink and green floral tea set. She’d just finished pouring hot water over the bone china, warming it in the traditional manner, before reaching for the canister of tea. She raised it to her nose to savor the rich scent before scooping it into the perfectly heated teapot. Allowing it to steep, she cleared her mind. This wasn’t time to dwell on problems or consider the future. It was an opportunity to savor her momentary peace. Once the tea was ready, Jayla poured the hot liquid into a snifter. Once again, she lifted it to appreciate the aroma before carefully pouring it into the teacup.
She’d just settled back in her soft leather chair to take a sip when the door to the office opened.
“Excuse me.”
A chill blasted through the air as she reluctantly turned her head to discover her assistant, Gideon, stepping into the room. The tall, slender vampire’s hair was a deep red and cut short, his eyes a bright hazel dusted with gold. His features were delicate but unmistakably male with a bold nose and square jaw. His smile, however, made him a favorite among the human guests. It was wide and welcoming without any hint of the torture he’d suffered in the slave pits of a brutal vampire who’d considered his clansmen to be nothing more than objects to be used and abused.
“Gideon.” Jayla slid a pointed glance over his tailored black suit paired with a crisp white shirt and gray silk tie.
Gideon stopped in the center of the room, his expression wary. “Yes?”
“Do you find me a demanding employer?” Her voice was so soft, the male was forced to lean forward as he strained to hear her.
He swallowed as if he had a lump in his throat. “No, mistress.”
“Do I have an excessive number of unreasonable rules?”
“No, mistress.”
She held the vampire’s gaze, her face carefully devoid of emotion. Unlike his previous master, she didn’t lead by fear or intimidation. She simply shared her expectations. Either the employee lived up to those expectations, or they found a new job.
Until this moment, Gideon had rarely disappointed her. That was one of the reasons he’d become her most trusted assistant. That, and his absolute, unshakable loyalty.
“What is my one request?”
“That you are not interrupted during your teatime.”
She arched a brow. “And yet, here you are.”
He grimaced, knowing her too well to mistake her calm tone for anything but a sharp reprimand.
“I would never bother you if it wasn’t urgent.”
“Is the hotel on fire?”
“No.”
“Is one of the customers dead?”
“No, but…”
“Go away.” She waved her hand toward the door.
“It’s Emile,” he said in a rush. “From the Paradise.”
Jayla carefully replaced her teacup on the tray and rose to her feet. Emile was her nemesis. It sounded melodramatic. Maybe childish. But there it was.
The female vampire had been the owner of an established resort when Chiron had decided to expand his business to Hong Kong. Not surprisingly, she’d done her best to keep Dreamscape from opening, including issuing a direct threat against Jayla. It’d been the local clan chief who halted any battles, announcing there was plenty of customers for both resorts to thrive. He’d also warned that any challenges or dirty tricks, and he would run the offender out of town.
“She’s here?” Jayla demanded in disbelief, the walls frosting over as she struggled to contain her temper. The two vampires had gone to great lengths to avoid crossing paths. The thought that the bitch would enter Jayla’s territory was infuriating.
“No. She sent an emissary.”
That explained why Jayla hadn’t sensed Emile’s presence. She might hate the female, but that didn’t mean she didn’t admire her outrageous power.
“What does the emissary want?”
“He said that Emile demands a meeting with you.”
“Demands?”
Gideon lifted a slender hand, flinching at the bone-chilling cold in the air. “Her words, not mine.”
“Why would I meet with my competitor?”
The vampire shifted from foot to foot, clearly reluctant to reveal what the emissary had told him. Jayla didn’t blame him. Jayla had never killed the messenger because she didn’t like the message, but there was always a first time for everything.
“Emile claims that she has proof that Dreamscape has been sabotaging her business.”
“Sabotage.” Jayla repeated the word, trying to make herself accept that she hadn’t misheard. Gideon nodded. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Gideon grimaced. “The emissary mentioned busted pipes and food poisoning and a fire in the cloakroom.”
“Why would Emile assume I am responsible?”
The male shrugged in confusion, obviously as baffled as she was by the accusations. Jayla was a ruthless assassin, a cunning businesswoman, and a demanding lover. But she possessed one unbreakable moral code rule. She didn’t cheat. Ever.
“I don’t know, but she is threatening to take her evidence to the clan chief if you refuse to meet with her face-to-face,” Gideon warned.
Shit. Jayla pressed her lips together. She was in the process of expanding the resort to include a casino across the river in Macau. This was the last thing she needed.
“Set up an appointment,” she snapped.
“The emissary said…” Gideon’s words trailed away.
“What?”
“That it had to be now. There’s a car waiting.”
Was Emile deliberately trying to piss her off? If so, she was doing a brilliant job.
“Fine. But I don’t need a chauffeur,” Jayla growled. “Send the car away. I’ll walk.”
The vampire suddenly looked troubled. “Are you sure? I can drive you.”
Jayla shook her head. “I want to make sure this isn’t a trap.”
“Forgive me, mistress, but I really believe?—”
“My decision is made.” Jayla’s expression warned that she was done with the conversation.
Gideon clenched his hands as if battling his urge to argue. Then, with a stiff bow, he backed out of the room.
“Yes, mistress.”
* * *
Azrael had assumed he was prepared for the sight of Jayla. He was wrong.
It was one thing to occasionally have one of his servants check in to make sure she was doing well and in no need of assistance. Quite another to see her in the flesh.
Glorious flesh.
Hidden in a black limo protected by a witch’s spell to disguise his scent as well as his thunderous power, he watched as she left the large hotel by a side door and strolled down the street.
Physically, she hadn’t changed. Vampires didn’t age. Her rich, golden skin glowed in the bright lights from the nearby hotels, and her eyes shimmered like the finest jade. It seemed her preference for fitted satin dresses remained the same. This one was a deep crimson, sleeveless tunic with gold trim. It barely reached her knees, revealing the slender length of her legs and the high, black stilettos that did nothing to hamper her elegant strides.
Tonight, however, her glossy black hair had been left free to tumble down her back. Last time, the elaborate curls had hidden her lethal daggers. Azrael assumed she had them concealed somewhere else.
His body hardened as he allowed himself to fantasize about the various places she might have tucked them out of sight. Next, his mind moved to the pleasure of stripping off that flimsy bit of silk to conduct the treasure hunt.
A growl rumbled in his throat. He’d spent thousands of nights imagining holding this female in his arms. Nibbling her from head to toe and drinking deep of her decadent blood. She’d been a nagging hunger that refused to leave him in peace.
Now, watching her stroll just a few feet away, his entire being was on fire with a savage need to leap out of the car and claim her. This was why he’d stayed away. He knew his desire for her would be this intense. This grindingly overwhelming.
It made her too dangerous. He couldn’t risk being blinded by a female who’d already killed him once…
“Boss.”
The warning voice jerked Azrael out of his bemusement, his head turning toward the driver of the limo.
The vampire was as large as a mountain with a shaved head and dark eyes. He wore leather pants and boots with a white t-shirt that stretched tightly over his bulging muscles. Most people would look at Maxim and assume that he had more brawn than brains. A dangerous mistake.
“What is it?” Azrael demanded.
“She’s being followed.”
Azrael stiffened, his gaze snapping back toward the window. It was late autumn outside, but the weather was warm with only a slight breeze. This was prime vacation time for Hong Kong, and the streets were jam-packed with tourists.
Leaning forward, Azrael frowned. There. He watched two slender vampires strolling several feet behind Jayla. They might have been sightseers or Dreamscape employees, but there was no missing their hard expressions as they kept careful pace with their prey. Or their matching outfits. Jeans, boots, and red leather jackets. Then, one of the males turned enough for Azrael to catch a glimpse of a small crossbow loaded with a silver bolt clutched in his hand.
Damn.
“Call the others and tell them to do a sweep of the neighborhood,” he snapped in terse tones. “Pick up any vampire wearing a red leather jacket.”
Maxim reached for his cellphone, glancing over his shoulder. “What do you want me to do?”
“Pull as close to the female as you can get.”
Making a quick call to the six clansmen Azrael had brought to the city, Maxim picked up speed, weaving through the heavy traffic before quickly swerving toward the curb. Azrael didn’t hesitate, jumping out of the backseat and flowing forward.
He gave Jayla less than a second to sense his approach before dropping a heavy hood over her head and binding her wrists in silver shackles. She briefly struggled, but once he scooped her off her feet to tuck her into the back of the limo, she held herself with a rigid dignity. Like a goddess who was above the stupidity of the world around her.
Azrael frowned as Maxim hit the accelerator and then drove out of the city. Why was Jayla so calm? Had she expected to get kidnapped? Yes, that made sense.
But why set herself up as a target?
He was considering the various options when she impatiently rattled the shackles already searing into her delicate skin. The sound made Azrael flinch. He hated that he was causing her pain, but he couldn’t risk allowing her to escape. Not only did he need her, but he also had no idea how many bad guys were lurking in the horde of tourists.
They reached the outskirts of the city, and the car at last pulled into an underground parking lot of a towering apartment building. The limo came to a smooth halt, and opening the car door, Azrael crawled out, gently pulling Jayla behind him. He nodded toward Maxim, and the limo pulled away. Wrapping his arm around her stiff shoulders, he steered Jayla toward a heavy steel door marked with a sign that read: MAINTENANCE .
Placing his hand flat against the door, he used his power to push it open, revealing a narrow flight of stairs. Still holding Jayla close, he headed down to the secret lair. They entered a long, sparsely furnished room with a cement floor, matching walls, and open steel beams above their heads. This was a temporary space for vampires in need of a secure location to stay hidden—or conceal something important.
Azrael needed both.
Leading Jayla toward the small sofa, he pressed on her shoulders until she settled on the edge of the leather cushion. He sat beside her, a potent surge of anticipation tingling through him.
As if sensing his heated gaze that swept over her rigid body, Jayla made a muffled sound of impatience.
“If you intend to kill me, I wish you’d get on with it before I die of boredom.”
Azrael smiled with rueful humor. “You haven’t lost your arrogance, kiska .”
She froze at the sound of his voice. Or maybe it was his Russian endearment. She’d reminded him of a hissing cat the first time he’d seen her. Sleek and elegant and utterly lethal. Her rich lotus scent swirling in the air. “Who are you?”
Azrael leaned toward her. “First, I intend to relieve you of any weapons you have hidden beneath that lovely gown.”
She hissed in outrage. “Touch me, and I’ll kill?—”
“Not this time,” he interrupted, sweeping his hands down the length of her torso.
It took an effort, but he kept his touch light, refusing to acknowledge the jolts of pleasure racing through him. She was bound and momentarily helpless. He might be a vampire, but he wasn’t a monster. Not anymore.
He reached the slender length of her legs when he at last found a sheath tied around her upper thigh. Carefully, he pulled out the slender dagger with its silver blade and tossed it onto a chair across the narrow space. Next, he bent to slide off her shoes, lifting the pointed heels to his nose. Poison. Just as he’d suspected.
“Impressive,” he murmured, flipping the shoes to join the dagger. “Now, this.” Grabbing the thick hood, he slowly pulled it off her head.
Jayla blinked, a visible tremor racing through her body as she allowed her gaze to skim over his face before lowering to the white cashmere sweater stretched across his chest and then down to his dark slacks.
At last, she slowly shook her head as if coming out of a dream. Or a nightmare.
“No,” she rasped. “This is a trick.”
“I’m very real,” he assured her, leaning forward. She was clearly in shock, but she hadn’t panicked. And she hadn’t tried to attack. He was willing to take a risk. With quick movements, he unlocked the shackles and let them drop to the floor. Then, he offered her a sensuous smile. “Do you want to touch and prove for yourself?”
Disappointingly, she didn’t accept his offer. Instead, she continued staring at him as if he were a ghost.
“You’re dead,” she breathed.
“We’re vampires. Technically, we’re both dead.”
“I stuck a dagger in your heart and watched you turn to ash.”
“True.” He reached up to touch the spot where the dagger had slid through his chest. “Thankfully, it takes more than that to put me in my grave.” He grimaced. “Or at least it used to.”
Her eyes darkened with an emotion he couldn’t identify. Disbelief? Regret? Hope? Then, her jaw tightened with rigid resolve.
“I don’t know how you managed to create this illusion, but…” Her words died on her lips as Azrael reached into the pocket of his slacks to pull out the jade pendant he’d carried with him for the past seven hundred years.
“Does this help?”
Her ruby lips parted, her gaze locked on the stone. At last, she tilted back her head to study him with a strange expression.
“How?”
“When I was human, someone cursed me by placing my soul in a sword.”
Her gaze darted around the barren space, no doubt searching for his weapon. When she didn’t find it, she returned her attention to him.
“A witch?” she asked, clearly unperturbed by his revelation.
Of course, she was as old as he was. Over the passage of a thousand years, a creature was bound to have seen or heard most things. Even about crazy-ass curses.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. Vampires had no memory of their lives as humans, and since there’d been no one around to ask when Azrael woke, he hadn’t been able to discover who had cursed him. Or why. “But the magic of the sword is fey.”
Jayla furrowed her brow as if considering what he’d just revealed. “Does that mean the only way to destroy you is to destroy the sword?”
Azrael hesitated before he nodded. He would be a fool to trust a female who’d already tried to kill him, but then again, he had to rely on her if he were to survive. He needed her, and that meant revealing the truth.
She started to say something, only to snap her lips together as if struck by a sudden thought.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Did the Anasso know?” She forced the question between stiff lips.
Ah. She was wondering if the brutal king had deliberately tried to send her to her death.
“No.” Azrael shook his head. “If he’d discovered I was something other than immortal, he would have stopped at nothing to force me into his clan.” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. He’d spent his life virtually alone because he’d known what would happen if he became a weapon for some bloodthirsty master. “What could be better than a trained warrior you can sacrifice over and over in battle?”
She slowly nodded, not revealing if she was comforted by his words or not.
“Is this your revenge?” she abruptly demanded. “Do you intend to kill me?”
“Just the opposite,” he assured her. “I intend to offer you a bargain.”