You look more a princess than a king. Your lipstick is smeared.”
Pyx touched her mouth. Really? But the color she’d chosen was so pretty….
The vampire pulled out a gun and fired.
Pyx took the bullet in her shoulder. It burned like hell’s fire, but it was not going to kill her.
And if the vampire didn’t watch it, he’d piss her off. And she did not play well when pissed. She swiped at the corner of her mouth, frustrated more by the greasy smear of red.
Screw the lipstick.
“Why are you playing with me? Got an itch you need to scratch, buddy? Just to let you know, I don’t do bloodsuckers.”
“I wouldn’t touch your damned ass with haz-mat gloves on,” the vampire replied.
Pyx lifted a brow, fighting a wince from the pain. “Anyone ever tell you that charm will get you a stake in the heart?” Not that she’d remembered to bring along a stake …
“It’s my business to keep an eye on you, Sinistari.” He waved the gun menacingly. “Keep you away from the Fallen one.”
“So it was me those idiot vamps were after last night?” And here she’d been sure it was Cooper.
“You and the Fallen. You catch sight of the muse yet?” he asked as he paced before her. A swipe of his sleeve wiped the blood from his mouth, leaving a smear she figured resembled her mouth.
“If I had seen a muse, I wouldn’t tell you. I’m tired of this conversation. You need to be gone.”
She flung out her hand, directing her energy toward the vamp, but he ducked and managed to fire the gun again. This time the bullet pierced her outstretched hand.
Pyx gripped the searing pain. “Now you’ve pissed me off.”
Letting out a throaty growl, she began to shed her mortal costume with a shake of her shoulders. The Sinistari were forged from fluid metal as sinuous as flesh but stronger than any known mortal substance. They were virtually indestructible, unless a stronger opponent faced them down.
Vampires were not stronger.
The shift complete, she stood a head higher than when in mortal costume. Her black metal body pulsed with the vicious desire to do some damage. Tightening her fists and twisting her horned head, Pyx eyed the vampire.
The bastard didn’t even flinch. In fact, he smiled and tore open his shirt to reveal a tattoo emblazoned across his abdomen. From waist to under his nipples a bizarre sketch of ancient sigils covered every inch of flesh.
Demon wards. And it looked as if he wore a sigil for every demon that stalked this realm and all the other realms.
The vampire wasn’t an idiot after all.
“Points for you,” Pyx growled.
She felt the ward’s repulsive force scream out toward her and shiver within her metallic frame. It squealed, high-pitched and sharp. The noise was unbearable.
Clamping a hand over one ear, she struggled to face her opponent, but knew it was fruitless. Pyx turned, snatched her coat and bag with a talon, and ran. Before she reached the door, she flashed …
… and landed in her apartment living room, naked and resumed of mortal flesh.
“That vampire was not playing fair,” she muttered, pressing her forehead into the soft fur edging the coat sleeves. “And he’s after me.”
And if properly warded, which he had been, he stood a chance at defeating her.
“Damn it. I’ve got to find that bloody muse, and quick, before he comes back.”
Cooper wasn’t sure why vampires were tracking him, but he wasn’t about to stand with arms wide open and welcome them to do as they pleased. It wasn’t smart to rip out their hearts when an innocent bystander may witness—not to mention the mess—but damn, it had felt good.
He had to be careful. If this realm were to become his permanent home, he must learn to play by the rules, and respect mortals.
But that didn’t mean he had to play nice with the vampires.
Elbows to the glass counter, he looked over the bowie knives as the store owner observed him. This little shop was tucked in the fifth arrondissement at the end of a street that catered to tourists with video stores and T-shirt shops.
“The handle is pure silver,” the owner said. “Pretty thing, isn’t she?”
Cooper stabbed the weapon into the wooden beam stretched floor to ceiling, designed for such purpose. He knew a blade wouldn’t stop a vampire, but it might slow one down.
What he needed was a fancy stake like Pyx had sported. But he suspected she wasn’t the type to share, unless he begged. And put chocolate and bananas on top.
He did love her appetite. But that was obviously the gluttony shining through. If the girl weren’t careful she might have to let out her snug-fitting leather pants a bit.
On the other hand, eat away, pretty demon. It may slow her down if he ever did stumble across his muse.
“You have any crosses?”
The owner tilted his head quizzically. “There’s a religious shop down the street,” he said, pointing. “You buying that?”
“Yes.” Cooper laid the knife on the glass counter. “And give me a couple of those, too.” He gestured to the four-pointed throwing stars on the wall behind the counter.
“That’ll be seven-hundred-fifty,” the owner said, sliding the weapons toward him.
Cooper placed his palm on the owner’s forehead and put into his mind the image of him handing over a stack of euro notes. After he’d berated Pyx for stealing the apartment, he should look to his own actions and stop throwing stones. Yet he had no means to employment or an ID card or driver’s license. He was off the grid and intended to remain so until he’d found his halo.
It wasn’t stealing when he planned to use the weapons to destroy something that could harm or even kill humans.
Tucking the blade at the back of his jeans and the stars in the pockets of his black wool pea coat, Cooper walked out onto the sidewalk and almost tripped over a spunky redhead.
Pyx hooked her arm in his and together they went down the sidewalk. Perky ponytails sprang out at either side of her head. Rouge brightened her cheeks and gloss shimmered on her lips. She smelled … fruity.
“Is this a date?” he asked.
“No, it’s a walkby kidnapping. I’m taking you to find your muse.”
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