"You… I saw you. In the dream." She shivered as the memories burned through her mind. "You were chained, and they were chanting and your… your fangs—"
"Abby." He gazed deep into her eyes. "Sit down and I'll explain."
"No." She gave a frantic shake of her head. "What are you going to do to me?"
His lips twisted at her shrill tone. "Although several enticing ideas have passed through my mind upon various occasions, for the moment I plan nothing more than talking with you. Will you calm down long enough to listen?"
The very fact that he hadn't laughed and told her that she had lost her mind only deepened Abby's terror. He knew of the dream. He recognized it.
Allowing instinct to take over, Abby forced herself to pretend a resignation she far from felt.
"Do I have a choice?"
He shrugged. "Not really."
"Very well."
Weakly following his lead toward the bed, Abby waited until Dante was convinced of his victory before reaching out to push him sharply away. Caught off guard, he stumbled, and in the blink of an eye, she was bolting toward the door.
She was fast. Growing up with five older brothers ensured she was well practiced in running from a potential massacre. But shockingly she had taken only a few steps when Dante's arms were wrapping about her and lifting her off her feet.
With a muffled scream, she reached her arms over her head and grasped two handfuls of his silky hair. He gave a low grunt as she gave a violent tug. Still keeping grasp of his hair with one hand, she shifted the other to dig her nails into the side of his face.
"Dammit, Abby," he muttered, his grip loosening as he sought to ward off her attack.
Not pausing for a moment, Abby wriggled free and, turning, she aimed a kick that over the years had proven to bring even the largest of men to a screeching halt. Dante gasped as he doubled over in pain. Not pausing to admire her handiwork, Abby lunged for the door.
On this occasion, she managed to actually touch the knob before she was roughly hauled up and over a broad shoulder and carried back to the bed. She screamed again as Dante easily tossed her onto the foul mattress, and then followed her downward to cover her struggling form with one much larger, and much harder.
More frightened than she had ever been in her life, Abby gazed into the pale face with its unearthly beauty. She was sharply, disturbingly aware of his lean muscles pressing against her. And the knowledge that he held her completely at his mercy.
Uncertain what was about to happen, she was startled when a slow smile curved his lips.
"You possess powerful weapons for such a tiny thing, lover," he murmured. "Have you practiced those rather nasty tricks often?"
Somehow his teasing managed to ease a portion of her rabid terror. Surely if he were going to suck her dry, he wouldn't be indulging in conversation?
Unless of course vampires preferred a bit of pre-dinner chat?
"I have five older brothers," she gritted.
"Ah, that would explain it. Survival of the fittest, or in this case, survival of the one with the dirtiest arsenal."
"Get off me."
He gave a lift of his brows. "And risk becoming a eunuch? No, thanks. We'll finish our discussion without anymore scratching, hair pulling, or low blows."
She glared into his mocking expression. "We have nothing to discuss."
"Oh no," he drawled, "nothing beyond the fact your employer was just barbequed to a crisp, the fact that I'm a vampire, and the fact that thanks to your stupidity, you now have every demon in the vicinity after your head. Nothing at all to discuss."
Barbequed employers, vampires, and now demons? It was too much. Way, way too much.
Abby closed her eyes as her heart squeezed with horror.
'This is a nightmare. Dear God, please let Freddy Krueger walk through the door."
'This is no nightmare, Abby."