In the black and white photo he retained from their meeting with Gryphon, he’d been unable to guess her eye color. A lavender-violet combination. What an odd color, but exquisite with her Goth red-streaked black hair. Lips sultry and stained crimson, he envisioned them parting over his and Gabriel’s cocks.
Her arousal stunned him. Sirens weren’t known to experience lust unless they were mated and then only with their spouse.
“You should’ve told me she was there, Maximus.” Gabriel slammed his fingers through his spiky dark blond hair, giving the locks a more natural flow.
“What would you have done different?” He pulled on black leather pants. “If you’d gone after her, you’d have scared her off sooner. At least this way”—his head burst through the cotton black shirt—“she got an eyeful of how good we are together.” He fingered his black top hat and settled it on his head. “I smelled her arousal.”
“I did, also, but I dismissed the evidence as someone in the crowd.”
“Right now I bet you she’s thinking about us. Which one of us is a potential mate? Convincing her we’re both hers might be a tad difficult.” Sirens mated in pairs, not threes. Should be entertaining convincing her they would be a threesome, rather than a duo. At the moment, all Maximus wanted was to hear her climax for the first time. And get a good look at the wonder in her eyes at what she’d been missing. “My fangs are itching to taste her, Gabriel. I’ve got to feast on something before I lose control.”
He’d rip a pedophile or murderer apart if his behavior wouldn’t draw the attention of the authorities. Killing them would have to suffice.
Gabriel stopped him at the door with a hand on his forearm. “You think she’s our mate, too, don’t you?”
“Yes. I have no doubt. We’ll find a way to bring her home, Gabriel.” Snapshots of her sandwiched between them as they drove into her in unison went off in his head. She was so diminutive they’d have to be careful not to harm her. Who was he kidding? She was a mystic. A goddamn siren. That put her at the top of the mystic food chain. That meant she was hardier than she appeared, and she could take whatever they dished out. If he had his way, she’d take all they had to give her.
Maximus went out the door in search of prey.
***
Sameya caught the vampyr as he exited the hotel wearing a top hat and a skin-tight, black shirt that V’d in the front. What a fine figure he cut in his black leather pants that clung to his exquisite ass. His shiny black shoes were the only piece of attire that caught the light. Perfect attire to prowl for a victim.
Behind him, she matched her stride to his long-legged gait. Not easy with the congestion on Bourbon Street. He hooked left onto St. Louis Street and glanced over his shoulder. She remained invisible, so he might sense her, but no way could he see her.
“Spoil sport,” he whispered with a grin and swaggered down the badly cracked sidewalk, his confidence evident in his stride.
Sameya bit back a grin, gawking at his superb butt encased in leathers. What a waste on a leech.
“I can hear your footsteps, siren.”
To acknowledge his comment confirmed her presence. British accent. He hadn’t grown up in America.
He stopped walking. She stopped. He chuckled. “We’ll play it your way, naleah.”
She frowned at the endearment but held her tongue.
The farther they moved down the darkened street, the more sparse mortal activity became. “You’re with me.” The vampyr made a ‘come here’ hand gesture. A Caucasian, balding male exited a dark alley with a cigarette hanging from his thin lips. Sameya watched as the human made no protest, not even when the vampyr clamped his hand on the back of his neck and guided him down a series of side streets. No objection when they crossed North Rampart and Basin Street and walked to the locked gate at St. Louis Cemetery.
“Be a doll and break the lock for me.” He pinned her with his focus.
Sameya leaned against the brick wall and crossed her arms over her chest.
The pathetic mortal, unsuspecting of its imminent demise was the one that spoke. “With what?”
“Don’t be difficult, Sameya. I know you’re there.”
She came away from the whitewashed brick. How’d he know her name? She hadn’t shared her identity with Gabriel. And by the Empress’s glory could he say her name again? In that foreign lilt, her name sounded amazing on his lips.
The vampyr’s silver-blue eyes altered and glowed that vibrant green, evidence of the killer inside him. A clucking of his tongue and he sighed as he palmed the lock, pulverizing the metal. He kicked the gate open.