Fanged Secrets (Vampire #2)

Chapter 1

Dylan

“No, absolutely not!” I folded my arms and scowled at the redheaded woman standing before me. “I won’t do it.”

Jordan, the redhead in question, and lighting rod to my thunderous outburst, pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s a temporary arrangement, Dylan, it won’t be forever.”

“Why me, though? You have plenty of hopeless romantics in your corner – all of whom would be able to manage the job much better than I could.” I bared my fangs, drawing the evening shadows in Jordan’s office over me like a veil.

Shadow manipulation wasn’t enough to wipe the pleading look off the other woman’s face, so I dropped into the leather armchair behind me, crossing my legs and hissing to further emphasize just how opposed I was to her ludicrous proposition.

“Come on, Dylan, it has to be you.” Jordan sat herself down across from me, collapsing into an armchair and running a hand through her fiery locks. “Don Leone isn’t done scheming yet, and there’s no one else I can trust with this job.”

I wrinkled my nose, snorting my disdain at the name. Don Leone had proved to be a rather large thorn in my side and it was the Leyore Coven’s rules on protecting humans in the city that kept me from killing him on-site. The gang leader and his goons had been stirring up a lot of trouble for the Leyore vampires over the past few months; raiding our clubs, infiltrating our institutions, and even going so far as to attack Jordans’ delivery vans.

Keeping an entire coven of vampires from going hungry without killing any humans is a full-time job. A job that requires a constant supply of fresh blood from under-the-table deals with blood banks, secure clubs where contract-bound humans and thirsty vamps go to get their fix, and plenty of other shady activities that occur right under the nose of the average Manhattan citizen. And the perfect cover for this job? A ruthless drug syndicate.

While Don Leone thought his crew was hindering the moving of narcotics, what they were actually doing was throwing a wrench in the moving and selling of animal and human blood for our vampire brethren – something that also affected Jordan’s flavored blood business directly.

The notorious gang leader believed he was up against a rival group and hoped to make moves on Leyore “turf”. He had even managed to raid our weapons facility, plundering millions of dollars’ worth of weaponry the Leyore coven had been stocking up on since the war with Jordan’s cousin. Aside from the very real threat of Don discovering the true nature of the Leyore clan, he and his men were once a nuisance, and now a growing problem that had been neglected for far too long.

In an attempt to make peace with the relentless gang leader, Jordan arranged to meet him personally, and Don proposed a solution. All of these factors resulted in this meeting between Jordan and me, and my furious vow to murder Don Leone with my bare hands.

I bunched said bare hands into fists, refusing to meet Jordan’s earnest gaze. “We have to keep tabs on Don and whatever else he’s planning, I get that.” My boot hit the carpeted floor with a loud whump , “But Jordan, marriage?!”

“Temporary marriage!” Jordan countered, leaning her elbows on her knees to plead with me.

She got a raised brow and a curled lip in response.

With a deep sigh, Jordan leaned back in her chair again, long red hair spilling over her shoulders like waterfalls.

“Look, Don has offered us an olive branch here – and yes! It’s probably a ploy of some kind,” she added when I opened my mouth to state just that. “But it will secure peace between us for the time being, at least until we can figure out what else he’s planning and come up with a better solution.”

When I kept up a tight-lipped silence, Jordan continued, “Don has offered his daughter’s hand in marriage to a trusted, high-ranking member of the Leyore clan. This union would mean all dangerous antics from his group would cease, and the Leone gang would stay on their own turf. They don’t bother us, we don’t bother them.”

Jordan caught my eye. “No doubt Don does not intend to stick to this bargain, so we can assume he’s either offering his daughter up as a distraction or planting her as a spy. Or both. That’s why I need you specifically, Dylan. Only a spy knows how to root out another spy.”

“I’m flattered,” I drawled. “But this is more than just some spy versus spy shenanigans. How am I supposed to keep an eye on Don and his crew, uncover this woman’s loyalties, and keep the Leyore vampires a secret from her? She’s going to have to live with me, Jordan, you’re literally asking me to take work home.”

On any other occasion, I would be happy to take work home. Head of Leyore security and intelligence was no easy job, but blending into the shadows was what I did best. The Leyore coven was never short on enemies and the sprawling New York City was always brewing trouble of some kind.

Rogue vampires I could handle. Misbehaving werewolves I welcomed with open arms – and a few weapons. Stalking overconfident gang leaders and their swarm of loyal thugs was right up my alley. But what Jordan was asking was far beyond my capabilities. Welcoming a stranger into my home, a stranger I would be wed to – that was out of the question.

Unfortunately, the Leyore Coven Queen is nothing if not persistent.

“Please Dylan, you’re the only one I can trust with this.” Jordan pouted, crossing her arms and subtly pressing them together to highlight her breasts beneath her fitted blouse. “Do it for me?”

“I can’t believe you!” I couldn’t help the smirk cracking my stony expression. “Does your wife know you’ve been wielding your jugs for evil?”

Jordan gave me an exaggerated pout and dropped her chin to her chest. “Hmm, that method usually works on Sky.”

“Well, I’m not your wife, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be you when Sky finds out you’ve been flirting your poor subjects into submission.”

“Oh please,” Jordan cackled, flicking a strand of flaming hair over her shoulder. “Sky suggested it.”

“That tactic won't work on me.” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, you’re not my type.”

Jordan grinned at me, flashing a set of fangs under painted red lips. “I know who might be.”

“Who – the human daughter of one of our enemies?” My smirk settled back into a frown and I cocked my head to the side. “Does she even know she’s going to be wed to a woman? What if she’s straight?”

“Of course she knows.” Jordan twirled a strand of hair around her finger, a cryptic smile crossing her face. “Apparently it was the one demand she made herself.”

I blew out a breath. The leather creaked and squealed as I leaned back into the armchair. I met Jordan’s gaze, the other woman holding her breath, waiting expectantly for my reply.

My oldest friend and strongest ally, I would always buckle for Jordan. And lamentably, she was well aware of that.

“Fine.” I spat the word out, scowling like a petulant child. “I’ll do it, I’ll marry this woman. But only until we can figure out a better solution.”

“Thank you!” Jordan jumped out of her seat, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight between hers. “I promise, this is not going to be nearly as bad as you think.”

I disagreed, but it was too late to back out. The headstrong queen of the Leyore coven was very good at getting her way and there would be no getting out of the job now.

“Whatever. I don’t even know what this woman looks like. Hell, I don’t even know her name. You owe me big time for this favor.” I yanked my hand away, fixing a bang that had fallen over my eye. “And seriously, Jordan, get a new wardrobe. Your tits are one bounce away from escaping your blouse.”

The redhead only flashed her trademark titillating smile. “So what you’re saying is that the method works?”

I was quick to vacate the office before my disarming best friend could embarrass me further.

A week later I found myself standing in Leyore headquarters, kicking myself for giving in so easily.

The grandiose SoHo hall was usually reserved for gatherings, important meetings, and general aristocratic nonsense. Today, however, the hall was empty save for Jordan and me, along with Jordan’s royal adviser, River, who would be acting as witness to my dismal marriage.

We stood in silence, waiting for my soon-to-be bride to arrive. While Jordan fidgeted with her blazer and shifted from one foot to the other, I stood still, holding out hope that the ground might yet swallow me whole and save me from what I was about to do.

Decked out in a red velvet suit with her hands clasped neatly behind her back, River looked me up and down, a wrinkle in her brow while she took in my attire. “You couldn’t have worn white or something? It is your wedding, after all.”

“It’s a phony wedding,” I snarled.

“And I don’t think she owns a single article of clothing that isn’t black,” Jordan chipped in.

I scowled at both of them but looked down to examine my attire. Black coat, black jeans, and chunky black boots to give me some much-needed height amongst my tall companions.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Neither had the chance to respond before the sound of a car horn outside had us looking toward the doorway. My bride had arrived.

Outside, a swanky Cadillac awaited us, and a rough-looking man disembarked the vehicle along with Don Leone himself. The gang leader was, undeniably, a handsome man. Silvery gray hairs threaded among his otherwise dark locks and a faint stubble shadowed his angular jawline. But his dark eyes were cold and calculating, his mouth set in a cruel curve.

Don Leone was human, but he would have made the perfect werewolf. He had all the attributes of a lethal predator and he eyed the three of us like we were his prey.

“Don.” Jordan stepped forward, extending her arm to shake the man’s hand. “Thank you for coming.”

I tuned out their fake pleasantries, something else had caught my attention. A figure in the backseat, behind the tinted windows of the sleek black Cadillac. A suspicious pang twinged my chest, like a phantom hand had taken hold of my heart and squeezed.

When Don’s associate moved to open the car door, my breath caught in my throat and I choked. My knees threatened to buckle as a strange sensation bloomed in my chest, a kind of longing and lust like nothing I had ever felt before.

The figure who stepped out of the vehicle was the loveliest woman I had ever laid eyes on.

Upon that realization, and the moment her hazel eyes locked on mine, alarm bells sounded in my head – loud and disorientating. In the split second that I gazed into those wide, warm eyes, and the woman looked back as if seeing straight through me, my body stiffened and my heart slammed on the brakes.

Whatever unwanted emotion had been crawling up my throat was snuffed out in an instant, and the shadows of the city drew closer as if responding to my silent distress call.

Time stood still for a beat and then the strange sensation was gone. My features settled back into a stony, blank expression, and my mouth set in a grim line. It was a familiar comfort, this blank indifference, but I couldn’t shake the disturbing unease in the back of my mind.

This woman, this stranger , had disarmed me with a look. I could not let her do it again.