taste it. Soon he would have the trine, and his apprentice.
Gabe was a tricky bastard, but Uriel was smarter, more devious. He would have what he wanted, despite what Gabriel decreed. Suriel would not be handed over to Gabriel. No, he had something else in mind for Suriel and his gifts .
CHAPTER FOUR
Scanning the crowd, Rhys let his gaze slip to a silver-haired woman. The color wasn’t real—most likely it was a wig—but it would make the fantasy that much better. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the woman in his dream, and suddenly he was consumed with the thought of taking a woman who looked just like her to bed, to finish what the dream had so teasingly started.
Normally, he didn’t treat the women he took to bed like sex objects. He pleasured them and enjoyed them while they were together. The women he knew sexually were after the same thing he was—sex with no strings, one night of pleasure. There was no drama, no desire to keep seeing each other.
Tonight, though, he felt like a user, because of that damned dream that wouldn’t leave him alone and because he was still taut with sexual need. He needed to get off, and why bother with his hand when the woman was staring at him that way?
“She’ll do.”
Rhys glanced over his shoulder to where Keir was standing behind him. He was used to the way Keir could appear and disappear in a shadow or a shaft of moonlight. He wasn’t surprised to see him come out of the darkness of the corner. “You need to feed?”
“Yes.”
Rhys sensed the desperation within the wraith. He needed energy, not only to survive, but to perform magick. But something was holding him back. Keir was normally eager to climb into bed with any woman. He enjoyed sex, but tonight it looked like a necessary evil—a sacrifice, if Rhys was interpreting Keir’s clenched jaw correctly.
“I was wondering about her friend. The blonde. She’s pretty.”
“No blondes,” Keir snapped, “and no one too . . . full.”
Now Rhys understood. Keir didn’t want any reminders of Rowan—a full-figured, stunning blonde he couldn’t have.
“It’s too much,” Keir murmured. Even though the techno goth music was pulsing loudly through the club, Rhys heard Keir’s anguished voice in his thoughts. “I can’t be with someone who looks like her. It’s wrong. I . . .”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Rhys felt the wraith’s instant relief. “Let’s get back to the one in the silvery blond wig,” he suggested.
“Nice,” Keir replied, trying to sound as if he were into this whole threesome thing tonight, although Rhys knew he wasn’t. “You think she’ll take us both?”
“Well, her eyes seemed to light up even more when you appeared. One can hope.”
“If not, there’s always Abby.”
Rhys searched through the flashing strobe lights and colored laser beams for the red-haired waitress. She’d been trying to get into bed with them ever since she’d started at the club a year ago. Trouble was, doing this kind of thing with the staff was risky. He didn’t like it. It made the night after sex awkward, and she was a good waitress. His customers liked her, and he’d hate to lose her if she wanted more than just a night of hot and sweaty sex. He’d have to let her go if she got all clingy—especially if she got suspicious about Keir. Normally, the whole magical, immortal thing wasn’t a problem. Humans saw what they saw, and to them, most of the patrons were just like them—human. But if Abby took it into her head to get close with them, things might change.
On the other hand, Abby was the farthest thing from Rowan. And she was the complete opposite of his dream lady. Maybe that was what they both needed—to lose themselves in a woman who reminded them of no one.
“Hey,” Abby said as she sashayed past them. She was wearing her customary black leather dress that looked to be at least one size too small, and black fishnets with thigh-high black boots. Her hair was dyed
Gabe was a tricky bastard, but Uriel was smarter, more devious. He would have what he wanted, despite what Gabriel decreed. Suriel would not be handed over to Gabriel. No, he had something else in mind for Suriel and his gifts .
CHAPTER FOUR
Scanning the crowd, Rhys let his gaze slip to a silver-haired woman. The color wasn’t real—most likely it was a wig—but it would make the fantasy that much better. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the woman in his dream, and suddenly he was consumed with the thought of taking a woman who looked just like her to bed, to finish what the dream had so teasingly started.
Normally, he didn’t treat the women he took to bed like sex objects. He pleasured them and enjoyed them while they were together. The women he knew sexually were after the same thing he was—sex with no strings, one night of pleasure. There was no drama, no desire to keep seeing each other.
Tonight, though, he felt like a user, because of that damned dream that wouldn’t leave him alone and because he was still taut with sexual need. He needed to get off, and why bother with his hand when the woman was staring at him that way?
“She’ll do.”
Rhys glanced over his shoulder to where Keir was standing behind him. He was used to the way Keir could appear and disappear in a shadow or a shaft of moonlight. He wasn’t surprised to see him come out of the darkness of the corner. “You need to feed?”
“Yes.”
Rhys sensed the desperation within the wraith. He needed energy, not only to survive, but to perform magick. But something was holding him back. Keir was normally eager to climb into bed with any woman. He enjoyed sex, but tonight it looked like a necessary evil—a sacrifice, if Rhys was interpreting Keir’s clenched jaw correctly.
“I was wondering about her friend. The blonde. She’s pretty.”
“No blondes,” Keir snapped, “and no one too . . . full.”
Now Rhys understood. Keir didn’t want any reminders of Rowan—a full-figured, stunning blonde he couldn’t have.
“It’s too much,” Keir murmured. Even though the techno goth music was pulsing loudly through the club, Rhys heard Keir’s anguished voice in his thoughts. “I can’t be with someone who looks like her. It’s wrong. I . . .”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Rhys felt the wraith’s instant relief. “Let’s get back to the one in the silvery blond wig,” he suggested.
“Nice,” Keir replied, trying to sound as if he were into this whole threesome thing tonight, although Rhys knew he wasn’t. “You think she’ll take us both?”
“Well, her eyes seemed to light up even more when you appeared. One can hope.”
“If not, there’s always Abby.”
Rhys searched through the flashing strobe lights and colored laser beams for the red-haired waitress. She’d been trying to get into bed with them ever since she’d started at the club a year ago. Trouble was, doing this kind of thing with the staff was risky. He didn’t like it. It made the night after sex awkward, and she was a good waitress. His customers liked her, and he’d hate to lose her if she wanted more than just a night of hot and sweaty sex. He’d have to let her go if she got all clingy—especially if she got suspicious about Keir. Normally, the whole magical, immortal thing wasn’t a problem. Humans saw what they saw, and to them, most of the patrons were just like them—human. But if Abby took it into her head to get close with them, things might change.
On the other hand, Abby was the farthest thing from Rowan. And she was the complete opposite of his dream lady. Maybe that was what they both needed—to lose themselves in a woman who reminded them of no one.
“Hey,” Abby said as she sashayed past them. She was wearing her customary black leather dress that looked to be at least one size too small, and black fishnets with thigh-high black boots. Her hair was dyed
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