Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Wallace felt his heart began to pound in alarm. His fingers curled into two tight fists. “Who are you?”

“I think, more to the point, is what am I? Have you ever met a vampire before, Mr. Wallace?” Darius asked politely. “As you have gone to so much trouble to invite one into your home, I would expect you to have a fairly good idea of what you are dealing with.”

Wallace glanced at his companion, frozen in place by the mere whim of the intruder. He decided to be as polite as his guest, hoping to catch him off guard. The house was swarming with his men. Sooner or later one would come. In any case, he had a secret weapon, if he could just get the vampire close enough. “Do come in.” He waved an expansive hand, indicating a chair close by. Darius smiled, a show of teeth, a leap of flame in the depths of his eyes, but he did not move. “By all means, let us be civilized. I’m sure you had that in mind when you sent your assassins after my woman. Do not bother to deny your intentions. I can read your thoughts so easily.”

Wallace decided to brazen it out. “Evil calls to evil. I know your kind and what you’re capable of. Others like you killed my own son, murdered two of my brothers-in-law. Yes, I intended to take my time enjoying the woman. She is pretty enough. It would have been… delicious.”

Darius put out his hand and studied his immaculate fingernails. One by one, razor-sharp talons sprang to the tips. He smiled again with the menace of a predator. Once more his black gaze touched the older man, and it was like a physical blow, a punch that seemed to shake Wallace’s brain so that he clutched his head in pain. He felt the tremendous power of the visitor, and his insides turned to jelly.

Darius glided into the room, fluid and supple, muscles rippling with power beneath his elegant white shirt. He seemed to take up the entire room, seemed to suck the very oxygen out of the air. “I see you have decorated the windows with garlic. Do you believe vegetation bothers me in some way, perhaps weakens my power?” “Doesn’t it?” Wallace countered, stalling for time. The gleam of stark white teeth was his answer. Darius moved to the fireplace, reached out, and touched the large silver cross there. “You seem to have all the supplies for bagging yourself a vampire.”

Wallace was horrified. He glanced toward the door, suddenly aware of the deep silence in the house.

Darius glided closer. “What is it precisely you wished to learn about me, Mr. Wallace? Now is your opportunity.”

Wallace jerked out the syringe filled with the toxin and plunged it deep within Darius’s arm. He jumped back, grinning in triumph.

“Ah, yes, the poison you worked so hard to develop,” Darius said softly, his voice as beautiful and unconcerned as always. “It is so difficult to know what really works unless you have the chance to test it. Let us observe the results together.” The soulless eyes met Wallace’s. “You do fancy yourself a scientist, do you not, Mr. Wallace?”

Wallace nodded slowly, staring at the one he thought was a vampire. Darius slowly rolled up the sleeve of his silk shirt, exposing the roped muscles of his arm. He stared at his skin, causing red flames to flicker and dance, and Wallace nearly screamed when golden dots of liquid poison began to ooze from the Darius’s pores and run in a stream down his skin to drip onto the floor.

“Interesting, is it not?” Darius inquired in a menacing purr. “You should have known more about an enemy you wished to challenge, Mr. Wallace. It is a poor business to hunt without sufficient knowledge of your prey.”

“Where is the woman now?”

Darius’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you really so arrogant that you think I would allow your ridiculous assassins to take from me what is mine? I suspect you are more interested in the whereabouts of your soldiers.”

Wallace sighed and ran a hand through his shock of gray hair, leaving it standing on end. “And where are they?”