Prologue 1 страница

Twice Tempted

A Night Prince Novel

Jeaniene Frost

Dedication

To Tage, Kimberly, Candace, and Carol,

for all that you do and for the great ladies that you

are.

Acknowledgments

B efore anyone else, I must thank God.

Apart from Your grace, Jesus, I have

nothing. Additional thanks go to the usual

suspects: my wonderful editor, Erika

Tsang, and all of the other great people at

Avon Books; my hardworking agent,

Nancy Yost; my marvelous husband,

Matthew; my loving family; my supportive

friends; and last, but not at all least, the

fabulous readers of the Night Prince

series. I couldn’t do this without you!

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

An Excerpt from Up From the Grave

About the Author

Praise for Once Burned

Praise for Night Huntress Novels

By Jeaniene Frost

Copyright

About the Publisher

Prologue

T his wasn’t the first time I’d woken up as

a captive. It wasn’t even the second. I so

needed to reevaluate my life choices.

From past experience, I knew not to

snap my eyes open or alter my breathing.

Instead, I took inventory while pretending

I was still unconscious. Headache, no

surprise, but other than that I felt okay. My

arms were tied behind my back. The

thickness around my hands was gloves,

tightness around my ankles, restraints.

Uncomfortable gag in my mouth, selfexplanatory.

Once I was done taking stock of my

physical condition, I moved on to my

surroundings. The pitch and roll beneath

me had to be waves, which meant I was

on a boat. Some of my captors were

topside, from the voices, but one of them

was in the room with me. He didn’t say a

word, but after years of living with a

vampire, I’d become adept at picking up

the barely perceptible sounds they made.

So when I opened my eyes, my gaze

landed unerringly on the black-haired

vampire across the room. The only

surprise he showed was to blink.

“Didn’t expect you to be up already, ”

he drawled.

I glanced down at my gag and back at

him, raising a brow.

He translated the silent message. “Do I

need to tell you that screaming is

useless? ”

I rolled my eyes. What was this,

amateur day? He smiled before rising

from the opposite berth. “I thought not.”

During the short time it took him to

cross the room and remove my gag, I

gleaned as much about him as possible,

too. The vampire looked to be around my

age, but with his scar-free skin, short

haircut, clean-shaven face, and average

build, I judged him to be less than a

hundred in undead years. Vamps older

than that tended to have more wear and

tear on their skin and they usually scorned

modern hairstyles. But the most telling

aspect was his gaze. Really old vampires

had a certain... weight in their stares, as

if the passing centuries had left a tangible

heaviness. My nameless captor didn’t

have that, and if I was lucky, neither did

anyone else on this boat.

Young vampires were easier to kill.

“Water, ” I said once the gag was

removed. Between that and the aftereffects

from being drugged, my mouth was so dry

that my tongue felt like a wadded-up sock.

The vampire disappeared and then

returned with a can of Coke. I gulped at it

when the vampire held it to my lips, which

meant that I let out an extended burp when

I stopped swallowing. If that burp

happened to be aimed in my captor’s face,

well, it wasn’t my fault. I was tied up.

“Charming, ” he said dryly.

“I lost my concern for social niceties

when you shot my friend up with liquid

silver, ” I replied in an even tone.

“Speaking of, I want to see him.”

The vampire’s mouth quirked. “You’re

not in a position to make demands, but

yes, he’s still alive.”

“You don’t want to take me to him,

fine, ” I said, thinking fast. “I assume you

know I pick up psychic impressions from

touch, so take these gloves off and let me

touch you. Then I’ll know if you’re telling

the truth.”

The vampire chuckled, a brighter green

swarming in the peat-moss color of his

eyes. “Touch me? Don’t you mean use that

deadly electrical whip you can manifest to

cut me in half? ”

I stiffened. How did he know about

that? Most of the people who’d seen me

wield that power were dead.

“That’s why these rubber gloves are

duct-taped onto you, ” he went on,

unperturbed. “Just in case.”

“What’s your name again? ” I asked,

glad I sounded casual.

Those wide lips stretched further. “Call

me Hannibal.”

I smiled back. “Okay, Hannibal, what

do you want me to do? Use my abilities to

find one of your enemies? Tell you if

someone is betraying you? Or read the

past from an object? ”

Hannibal laughed, and though it was

more Dr. Evil caliber than chilling, it was

still foreboding enough to creep me out.

“I don’t want you to do anything, little

bird. I’m merely the delivery boy. I don’t

even know who I’m delivering you to. All

I know is you’re worth three times as

much alive, but if you try anything, dead is

still a good payday for me.”

Hannibal gave me a cheery wave

before leaving the room. I said nothing,

trying to think of a way out of my

predicament. I was not going to let myself

be delivered to some unknown baddie. I’d

find a way out of this if it killed me.

Chapter 1

Four weeks earlier

I stood under a waterfall of flames.

Vermilion and gold spilled over me,

twining through my hair, separating into

rivulets along my body before sliding

between my fingers to fall at my feet. The

flames were so dense that I couldn’t see

through them, reducing my world to a

glowing arena of sunset-colored hues.

Being engulfed this way should have

killed me, but I was unharmed. I wasn’t

even afraid. A strange sense of longing

filled me instead. I kept trying to catch one

of the flames but I never succeeded. Fire

might cover me from head to toe, yet it

still managed to evade my grasp.

“Leila, ” a voice called, too faintly for

me to discern who it was. “Leave before

it’s too late.”

Logic urged me to do what the nameless

person said, but I didn’t want to. The

flames didn’t seem to want me to go,

either. They kept gliding over me,

caressing instead of burning my flesh.

See? I thought in defiance. They wouldn’t

hurt me.

“Leila, ” that voice said again, more

emphatically. “ Leave. ”

“No, ” I replied, and tried to clasp the

fire to me again. As usual, those brightly

lit bands slipped from my hands, but this

time, their lustrous color darkened. When

they landed at my feet, they looked like

ribbons made of tar. Then the waterfall

above me abruptly dissipated, leaving me

naked and shivering in the sudden,

overwhelming blackness.

Fear turned my insides to ice. The

voice was right. Something bad was about

to happen...

I didn’t have time to run before fire lit

up the darkness again. It didn’t spill gently

over me like it had before, but crashed

into me from all sides. Pain ravaged me as

the flames attacked me with all their

devastating power, charring and burning

every inch they touched.

“Why? ” I cried, betrayal second only to

the agony I felt.

“I warned you, ” that unknown voice

replied, safe outside of the wall of fire.

“You didn’t listen.”

Then I didn’t hear anything but my own

screams as the fire pitilessly continued to

annihilate me.

“ No! ”

In my head the word was howled in

anguish; in reality, it left my lips in a

whisper. It was enough to wake me up,

though, and I jerked away in horror until I

realized I was covered in sheets, not

flames. The only fire was safely contained

in the hearth on the other side of the room.

It took several deep breaths to shake off

the aftereffects of the nightmare. After a

minute, my heart quit thudding and settled

into a more normal rhythm. With a stab of

dismay, I saw that the bed was empty.

Now I wouldn’t have to admit I’d had the

same nightmare again, but I didn’t like that

more and more frequently, I went to sleep

alone and woke up that way, too.

If I were superstitious, I’d worry that

the recurring dream was an omen, but

when I got warnings about the future, they

didn’t come as vague metaphors in my

sleep. They used to come as merciless

reenactments where I had a full sensory

experience of whatever was going to

happen, but I hadn’t had one of those in

weeks. I’d long wished that I didn’t pull

impressions—and images of worst sins—

through a single touch, but now that I

needed the ability, it was on vacation.

That thought chased me out from under

the covers. I swung my legs over the side

of the mattress and stepped off the raised

dais that made the large, curtained bed

look even more impressive. Then I went

straight to the fireplace and knelt in front

of it. Most of the flames had died down

during the night, but the collapsed logs

still smoldered. I pushed the grate aside,

held my hand over a log for a second, and

then plunged it straight into the crumbling

wood.

The stab of pain made me gasp with

relief until I realized it only came from

one finger. The rest of my hand felt fine

despite being immersed up to the wrist in

the hotly glowing embers. I waited another

few moments to be sure and then pulled it

out. Aside from a splinter jutting from my

index finger and a decade-old scar, my

hand was unmarred, not a hair singed on

it.

Damn. Six weeks later, and it still

hadn’t worn off yet.

Some women caught venereal diseases

from their boyfriends. That was mild in

comparison to what mine had given me—

an immunity to fire that inexplicably also

blocked my ability to psychically discern

information through touch. Of course, I

shouldn’t be too surprised. Dating the

unofficial Prince of Darkness was bound

to have consequences.

I yanked the splinter out, sucking on my

finger despite being one of the few people

in this mansion who didn’t like the taste of

blood. Then I fumbled around until I found

a large male shirt, the fabric soft as

cashmere. It probably cost more than what

I used to earn in a month working the

carnival circuit, but it had been thrown on

the floor with expectant indifference. I

never saw anyone clean this room, but I

also never saw it dirty. The servants must

wait like ninjas for me to leave so they

could render this place spotless again.

They wouldn’t have to wait long. I had

to pee, and despite the splendor of my

boyfriend’s bedroom, his bathroom lacked

a toilet. Being a centuries-old vampire, he

didn’t need one.

I put on the discarded shirt. It was long

enough that it covered my tank top and

panties, though I’d never run into anyone

on my way from his room to the one that

was officially mine. The lounge that

bridged the two bedrooms wasn’t used by

anyone else. Its privacy and elegance

made for a more dignified walk of shame,

at least.

Once I was back in my room—a

lighter-hued, smaller version of the

midnight-green and mahogany

magnificence I’d just left—I went straight

into the bathroom.

“Lights on, ” I said, adding, “dim, ”

when the instant blaze of brightness made

me squint.

Soft amber illuminated the creamy

marble, highlighting its gold and celerygreen

veins. A glass shower the size of a

compact car also lit up, as did the vanity

counter. I’d been awed when I first saw

all the fancy fixtures. Now I muttered

under my breath as I hurried to the

discreetly screened corner.

“Fifty-yard sprint every morning

because he won’t add a toilet to his

bathroom. It’s not like he doesn’t spend

more each night on the dinner he never

eats.”

Part of me knew my griping was to

mask my uneasiness about the increasingly

empty bed, but my bladder twisted as if in

agreement. After I’d dealt with it, I got in

the shower, careful to only touch things

with my left hand. Although the currents

radiating from me were muted at the

moment, there was no need to fry the pipes

by accidentally sending a dose of voltage

through them.

After I showered and dressed, I

descended four flights of stairs to the main

level. At the bottom of the staircase, a

hallway with soaring ceilings, stone

pillars, antique shields, and ornate frescos

spread out in front of me. Only the indoor

garden kept it from looking like Bill

Gates’s Gothic Getaway.

At the end of that hallway was my

frequently absentee boyfriend, Vlad. Yes,

that Vlad, but few people made the

mistake of calling him Dracula. His dark

hair was the same color as the stubble that

shadowed his jaw in something thicker

than a five o’clock shadow. Winged

eyebrows framed eyes that were a blend

of copper and emerald, and sleek material

draped over a body hardened from

decades of battle when he was human. As

usual, only his hands and face were bare.

The rest of him was covered by boots,

black pants, and a smoky gray shirt

buttoned up to the neck. Unlike most wellbuilt

men, Vlad didn’t flash a lot of skin,

but those custom-tailored clothes flaunted

his taut body as effectively as running

shorts and a sleeveless muscle shirt.

My appreciation was cut short when I

saw that he had a coat draped over his

arm. He hadn’t just slipped in and out of

bed while I was asleep; he was also

leaving without a word.

Again.

Ever have a moment where you know

exactly what you shouldn’t do... and you

do it anyway? I didn’t need my missing

psychic abilities to know that snapping

“Where are you going? ” while striding

down the hall was the wrong way to

handle this, but that’s what I did.

Vlad had been talking to his second-incommand,

Maximus, a blond vampire who

looked like an avenging Viking come to

life. At my question, two gazes settled on

me, one gray and carefully neutral, the

other coppery green and sardonic. I

tensed, wishing I could take the question

back. When had I turned into one of those

annoying, clingy girlfriends?

Right after the main reason Vlad

became interested in you vanished, my

inner insidious voice mocked. You think

it’s coincidence that he began acting

distant right after you lost your ability to

psychically spy on his enemies?

At once, I began to sing KC and the

Sunshine Band’s “That’s the Way” in my

head. Vlad wasn’t just an extremely

powerful vampire whose history inspired

the world’s most famous story about the

undead. He could also read humans’

minds. Most of the time.

His lips curled. “One of these days,

you’ll at least take requests on your

method of keeping me out of your head.”

If I didn’t know him, I would’ve missed

the irony that tinged his tone, heightening

his subtle accent and adding an edge to his

cultured voice. I doubted he’d ever

forgive the vampire who taught me how to

block him from my thoughts.

“Some people consider that song a

classic, ” I replied, berating myself for

what he would’ve heard before I stopped

him.

“Proving again that the world doesn’t

lack for fools.”

“And you didn’t answer my question, ” I

countered.

Vlad put on his coat, that slight smile

never leaving his face. “That wasn’t an

accident.”

My hand tingled as the currents within

me surged to it. Thanks to an incident with

a downed power line, my entire body

gave off electricity, but my right hand was

the main conduit. If I didn’t lock down my

temper, it might start sparking.

“Next time you want to brush me off, do

what modern men do.” My voice was

rougher than sandpaper. “Be vague and

say you’re running errands. Sounds more

polite that way.”

That coppery gaze changed to glowing

emerald, visible proof of his inhuman

status. “I am not a modern man.”

Of course not, but would it kill him to

be a little less complex, infuriating, and

enigmatic? At least some of the time?

Maximus slid a glance my way before

returning his attention to Vlad.

“Everything will be ready upon your

return, ” he stated, then bowed and left.

What’s that supposed to mean?

hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I

wouldn’t get an answer. That didn’t mean

I was letting this slide. I was done

wondering what his increasing absences

spelled out for our relationship. If my

being psychically neutered meant his

feelings for me had changed, he needed to

tell me. I paused in my mental singing long

enough to think, When you get back, we’re

having a talk.

This time, his smile was wide enough

to show his teeth. His fangs weren’t out,

but his grin still managed to carry shades

of both lover and predator.

“I look forward to it.”

Then the spot where he stood was

empty. Only the massive front doors

closing indicated where he’d vanished

through. Vampires couldn’t dematerialize,

but some Master vampires could move so

fast it appeared that way.

I sighed. In the past couple months,

dating Vlad had proved to be as

passionate and tumultuous as the movies

portrayed. I only hoped Hollywood

wasn’t also right about the fate of every

woman who fell in love with the infamous

Dark Prince.

The thought was depressing, but I

wasn’t going to sit around brooding.

Instead, I’d engage in the most time-tested

and venerable of feminine distraction

techniques.

I sprinted upstairs to my sister’s room.

“Wake up, Gretchen! ” I called through the

door. “We’re going shopping.”

Chapter 2

“T his is the only thing that hasn’t sucked

so far about Romania, ” my sister stated as

she unloaded a stack of clothes in front of

the cashier.

I closed my eyes, not knowing who to

apologize to first: the cashier for

Gretchen’s remark about her country, or

Maximus, who now had to add more bags

to the half dozen he already carried. This

is what happened when you gave my sister

someone else’s credit card. Vlad had a

standing rule that any purchases for his

guests went on his card.

He might reconsider that when he got

the bill. My attempts to encourage

thriftiness hadn’t worked, either. They’d

only annoyed Gretchen to the point that

she quit trying things on before she

purchased them.

“I’m tired. We should go back, ” I said,

changing tactics.

Gretchen’s blue gaze narrowed. “No

way. I’ve been cooped up in your

boyfriend’s castle for weeks even though

his vamp enemy has to be dead or Marty

and Dad wouldn’t have gotten to leave.”

I didn’t point out that our father and my

best friend, Marty, were less prone to

recklessness. The odds were slim, but if

Vlad’s nemesis Szilagyi had survived,

then Gretchen was safer here. She

couldn’t keep a low profile if her life

depended on it, as she’d proved. I glanced

at the cashier, forced a smile, and used

Gretchen’s sleeve to tug her toward me.

“No talking about you-know-what in

public, ” I hissed.

“Why? ” she shot back at the same

volume. “Half the people in this town

know about vampires since Vlad owns it

and he uses some of them as blood snacks.

As for the rest, Maximus can mesmerize

them into forgetting what they didn’t

already know.”

My eyes bugged as I glanced at the

cashier. She held up a hand to the blond

vampire and said something in Romanian.

“Don’t worry, she’s loyal to Vlad, ” he

summarized for me. Then his stormy gray

gaze landed on Gretchen. “You need to

show more discretion or the next person I

mesmerize will be you.”

“You wouldn’t, ” she huffed.

Maximus straightened to his full six

feet, six inches, as if his thickly muscled

frame wasn’t impressive enough. “I’ve

done far worse to protect my prince.”

I still wanted to thump Gretchen, but no

one—even a friend like Maximus—got

away with scaring my little sister.

“She gets it, ” I said coolly. “And if she

doesn’t, I’ll be the one who deals with

her.”

Maximus glanced at Gretchen, gave a

barely perceptible shake of his head, and

then bent low to me.

“As you wish.”

My cheeks warmed. Since I was Vlad’s

girlfriend, the vampires in his line bowed

to me as they did to him, much to my

dismay. “Please stop, I hate that.”

He straightened, the barest grin tugging

at his mouth. “Yes, I remember.”

When his gaze met mine, for a split

second, I saw the man who’d pounced on

the chance to date me when I first arrived

at Vlad’s as a reluctant refugee. Then that

familiar veil dropped over Maximus’s

eyes, and my politely formal bodyguard

was back.

“You have another hour, if you wish to

continue shopping. Then we need to return

to the house.”

“Why? ” I asked, beating Gretchen to it.

“Because you need to be ready for

Vlad’s dinner guests. You don’t want to

be late to dine.”

Gretchen was faster this time. “Dinner

guests? Who? Why weren’t we told

before? ”

“ You weren’t told because your

attendance is optional, ” Maximus

answered. Then he smiled faintly at me. “I

waited to tell you because you seemed to

have enough on your mind.”

Embarrassment and resignation mingled

inside me. Did everyone know Vlad and I

were having problems? Of course they

did, I answered my own question. With

the hearing abilities of the undead, they

probably also knew that Vlad and I hadn’t

had sex in a week because I’d had my

period.

I sighed. “Looks like I need to buy

something after all.” I hadn’t yet despite

visiting several stores, not wanting to add

to the crushing bill Gretchen had run up.

Something I couldn’t name flickered

across Maximus’s face. “It’s not

necessary. Vlad has your dress waiting in

your room.”

First leaving without telling me where

he was going. Then unexpected dinner

guests, and now a dress picked out for me.

My eyes narrowed. What was he up to?

“You’re not going to even give me a

hint about what’s going on, are you? ” I

asked Maximus.

His smile was a little too tight. “As I

said, I’ve done far worse to protect my

prince.”

O ne look at the dress told me that dinner

wouldn’t consist of Vlad catching up with

some old buddies who’d dropped by. It

was a black velvet sheath that had a small

train in the back and a low neckline in

front that looked like it was encrusted

with tiny black jewels. Black heels and

similarly encrusted elbow-length black

gloves—lined with current-repelling

rubber, of course—completed the

seductively extravagant ensemble. I tried

it on, not surprised that it fit like it had

been sewn with my exact measurements in

mind. It even managed to give me

cleavage—a rare achievement with my

small breasts.

It was the nicest dress I’d ever worn,

but I’d exchange it and every other

expensive gift Vlad had given me to close

the growing gap between us. I stroked the

soft fabric, wishing my abilities were

back so I’d know if this was his way of

making amends for his recent coolness, or

simply ensuring that I looked good enough

to be on his arm tonight. Either was a

possibility with Vlad.

That was why I had to confront him

later, no matter the outcome. The last thing

I wanted to do was primp, but this was

clearly a formal occasion. When I was

done, my straight black hair hung in thick

curls and my makeup was subtle, aside

from dark crimson lipstick that contrasted

great with the black dress and my winterpale

skin. All those years in carnival

show business made me deft at sprucing

myself up. It also made me an expert at

concealing the scar that ran from my

temple down to my fingers. A glossy black

wave hung over that part of my face, with

more draped on my right shoulder. I’d

pulled the gloves up so only a few inches

of skin on my upper arm showed evidence

of the accident that had given me my

unusual abilities.

Abilities Vlad had stunted when he

coated me in his flame-repelling aura to

protect me from the explosion Szilagyi

detonated. Vlad’s enemy thought he was

taking me down with him, but I’d survived

the inferno. Figures my survival had come

at a price. Fate didn’t let anyone off

easily.

I shook my head to clear the past from

it. Then, feeling anything but festive, I

headed for the main floor.

Vlad was waiting at the bottom of the

staircase. His black tuxedo should’ve

been too severe with its lack of accent

color, but instead, he looked like a sensual

version of the Angel of Death. I couldn’t

stop my shiver as his gaze swept over me.

Emerald briefly shone from his eyes, and

when he took my hand, I felt his heat even

through my gloves. Normal vampires felt

room temperature, but not Vlad. The

pyrokinesis that made him so feared

among his kind also made him warmer