shoulder. He needed room to fight, but she needed care first.
He arched one eyebrow at Fridrick, allowing a slight smile of amusement to curve his lips. It was important to send the right message. Fridrick got what he was silently saying because his cocky smirk faltered for just a moment and his gaze shifted first right and then left as if to assure himself he wasn’t alone. Of course he wasn’t alone. Fridrick was a master vampire. He’d been around for centuries and was skilled in battle, but he would never face a hunter of Tariq’s skill without aid.
Tariq caught Charlie’s arm and brought it around his waist. To his astonishment, she didn’t stiffen or fight him. Her attention was on Fridrick. She didn’t seem to notice that she was clinging to Tariq, and he didn’t mind in the least. Nothing in his life had ever felt as right as the way her small body tucked so tightly against his did. Her skin burned through his clothes, sank through his pores to scorch her right onto his bones. He’d never felt better in his life or more alive. Perhaps that was the last thing he needed when going into battle with multiple vampires, but he allowed himself that brief moment to feel. To take it in.
3
Charlotte’s stomach did a slow somersault. She knew Tariq Asenguard by sight. How could she not? He was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in town. His picture was in magazines and there were numerous articles written about him. He was gorgeous. Rugged, all muscle, wide shoulders, elegant even with his long hair tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. It curled in a long tube of rich, thick chestnut down his back. He wore black trousers and a matching jacket over a blue shirt. His eyes were a vibrant blue, right now so dark they looked nearly black, and his lashes were long.
She knew she shouldn’t be noticing the owner of the club when danger was right in front of him—she should be warning him. But what was she supposed to say without looking like a lunatic? The man they faced had ripped out throats and drunk blood? That he’d killed Genevieve’s grandmother and boyfriend in Paris? That he’d killed her own mentor there as well? Then he’d drawn them to the States by murdering her brother? She couldn’t imagine that the suave, sophisticated owner of the nightclub would believe her. He looked far too elegant to have a clue about serial killers.
She also recognized his name from the letter Ricard Beaudet had read aloud to her. This man collected carousel horses. Maybe that was why she’d chosen to go to his club. She’d subconsciously picked it, not because it was the hottest spot in the city, but because she’d hoped to run into him and maneuver a look at the coveted painted horses. Now she’d endangered him. And she knew he was in real danger. Fridrick was utterly focused on him—not on either of the two women.
Fridrick’s features changed subtly—and not for the better. His eyes looked red, bloodshot. even. His teeth didn’t seem so white, and there was the faintest hint of sharpness when he stretched his mouth obscenely in a smile. His skin looked different, much paler, and even his fingernails looked longer.
“Vi,” she whispered softly, “back out of here.” At least she could get Genevieve out alive. She was going to stay and do her best to help Tariq Asenguard survive—although she had no idea how. She’d gone to Asenguard’s club and she’d drawn the serial killer to her. This was her responsibility, not Tariq’s. She wanted to run from Fridrick, telling herself she had Lourdes, but something compelled her to protect Tariq. She needed to protect him.
“No, Genevieve,” Tariq said unexpectedly, but his voice was a command. “You stay close to me.”
Genevieve halted her backward movement instantly.
“Such a good idea, little pet,” Fridrick sneered. “Learn to obey a master, although Tariq is hardly that. Both of you come away from him. You really do not have a choice.”
Tariq inhaled and knew he’d been right all along. Fridrick was not alone. Even as the master vampire spoke, the others emerged from the shadows. Seven of them. Three of the seven were clearly vampire and not underlings, not pawns to be sacrificed. He recognized all three of them. One was Fridrick’s brother Georg. The other two were cousins of the Malinov brothers, Dorin and Cornel Malinov.