Inferno Read online

  A forbidden union forged in love—and tempered in hellfire.

  Tales of the Were, Book 2

  One last task and Megan will be free of the debt of honor owed by her family. Spying on Dante, a powerful vampire with questionable friends, sounds simple enough. But her mission is complicated by the fact she’s got something every vampire wants—tangy, powerful, werewolf blood.

  It’s easy to capture his attention. The hard part will be getting out with her heart—and soul—intact. Not to mention her life, thanks to a crazed bomber.

  Dante isn’t the kind to forgive or forget easily, especially the grudge he holds against werewolves. Still, he is instantly drawn to the injured lone wolf in his care. When he and his friend Duncan treat her wounds, they discover something that marks her as much more than she seems.

  That mark is a neon sign warning to be careful, but Dante can’t help himself. He wants her and nothing will stand in his way. Not her species. Not his. Not the strange woman who keeps trying to kill him.

  Not even the magical poison in Megan’s blood…

  Warning: This book contains sexual healing, ménage a trois and quatre, hot sexy vampires, an irresistible fey warrior and a lone wolf bitch on the prowl.

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Inferno

  Copyright © 2009 by Bianca D’Arc

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-593-1

  Edited by Bethany Morgan

  Cover by Anne Cain

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: June 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Inferno

  Bianca D’Arc

  Dedication

  Thanks to my family, first and foremost, as always.

  And to my Aussie friend, Megan, who unknowingly lent her first name to the heroine in this book.

  Thanks also to my friends and “helpers” Valerie and Jambrea, who were kind enough to offer their time to act as beta readers on another project. Also to Peggy, who assisted in fact gathering—an invaluable help to my forgetful self. You guys are the greatest!

  Many thanks as well to my editor, Bethany, for her patient guidance and the laughs.

  Prologue

  “I have one final task for you. Do this, and your family’s blood debt will be repaid.”

  Megan knew, whatever the task, it wouldn’t be easy. Nothing about the Altor Custodis had turned out to be easy since they’d come into her life.

  She knew better than to ask questions. This man would not be rushed. Igor Poferov was not one to take interruption well. An immigrant to New York from some Baltic country, he took old world charm to the extreme.

  “It will not be easy,” he continued in his deliberate way.

  Big surprise there. She kept her expression carefully blank and stifled an ironic chuckle.

  “But it is a task that needs doing. Strange things have happened among the were and all is not as transparent to us as it should be.”

  Megan didn’t like the sound of this, though working among her own folk was no real hardship. True, she didn’t associate with many were, preferring to be a lone wolf. Still it wasn’t so hard to fit in among them for short periods of time.

  “Reports have come from the Northern Territories of an unholy alliance between the current Lords of the Were and a certain vampire we’ve been watching for centuries.”

  Her ears perked up. Vampires were tricky creatures. Most were had an instinctive distrust of the bloodletters and would have nothing to do with them. If the current leaders of all were in North America were suddenly allying themselves with a vampire, it was big news indeed.

  “His name is Dante d’Angleterre. The last report I have on him regarded an agreement to work with a human mage named Patrick Vabian. The mage disappeared. I need to know what happened to Vabian and the exact nature of the alliance between were and vampire—and any others that might be involved.”

  When the old man finally wound down, she waited just a few heartbeats to see if he had anything further to add. Then she sprang.

  “So you want me to spy on the were?” It wasn’t her favorite thing to do, but she would do it if it meant clearing her family’s debt of honor. Spying on other werefolk wasn’t so bad. They were her kind, after all. She understood them, even if she’d never lived among them. She owed them no loyalty. Not after the way they’d treated her family in the past.

  “No.”

  She waited, dreading what the old man might say next.

  “I want you to spy on the vampire. I want you to infiltrate his inner circle. Get close to him. Bed him if you have to. I want to know what happened to the mage. D’Angleterre’s powers might be greater than we believe, and he may have other allies. I want to know everything there is to know about Dante d’Angleterre. Everything.”

  Megan felt the blood drain from her face and knew she was probably white as a sheet. She did not like vampires. Not one bit.

  “I won’t whore for you.” Her voice was a cold as a Montana winter.

  The old man laughed. It was a brittle, almost evil sound. “It probably won’t come to that. You’ve got something the vampire will want more than sex.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, knowing the coy expression on his weathered face meant he had more to disclose.

  “Were blood is like a drug to his kind. Offer him your blood and he’ll keep you around. Guaranteed.”

  Chapter One

  Debauchery wasn’t something Dante indulged in very often anymore, but when Duncan suggested a night of revelry with a select few mortal playmates, Dante didn’t object. He knew it had been a long time since the fey knight had had his choice of women. Being kept prisoner in the fey realm for centuries hadn’t been easy on the half-mortal knight. Dante felt it only fitting they celebrate Duncan’s newfound freedom with a little indulgence of the flesh.

  In his case, Dante drank of his partners as well as fucked them, and they didn’t seem to mind one bit. The vampire Glamour had that effect on most beings—mortal and supernatural alike. It was a rare creature that could resist his brand of mojo when he chose to use it full force.

  And Dante knew Duncan had some interesting fey powers of his own. Still, the knight hardly needed magic to conjure a bevy of bed partners. The man was charming enough to acquire them without much effort, without tapping into his considerable magic.

  It had been a few weeks since the adventure in Montana had uncovered a Venifucus plot to destroy the current Lords of the Were, the werewolf twins, Rafe and Tim, and their new mate, the priestess Allesandra. Dante had been sucked into that intrigue on the wrong side, before he had realized exactly what was going on. That he’d been so easily led still grated on his nerves. Never would he knowingly help the Venifucus. Not even to finally achieve vengeance on the weres who had so wronged him in the past.

  Dante remembered the Venifucus as an ancient, evil sect devoted to the restoration of the Mater Priori¾the sorceress Elspeth¾also known as the Destroyer of Worlds. Though he wouldn’t have believed any of it just a few weeks ago, he’d heard the human mage, Patrick Vabian, speak of their plans
to restore the banished sorceress and rule this realm with an iron fist. Dante had recently discovered the Venifucus had worked in secret for many centuries to bring this about, and no one really knew how close they might be to achieving their goal.

  It was a frightening thought to contemplate. Even for an immortal.

  Thankfully, tragedy had been averted for the time being. The current Lords of the Were were enjoying an extended honeymoon with their new mate as she learned how to use her magical powers. Dante had more than made up the debt he owed from helping Patrick Vabian get close enough to attack them in the first place but was still annoyed by how easily he’d been duped by the mortal mage.

  Sure, he’d held a grudge against all were for over a hundred years. An old set of werelords had sanctioned the death of his friend, Erik the Firewitch. The battle that had ensued as Erik tried to defend himself had burned half of Chicago. In the end, Erik had died at the hands of the were. And they owed Dante for that.

  Erik had been like family to him. In fact, Dante often thought Erik had been the reincarnation of his younger brother, Elian, who had been murdered by the Venifucus centuries before. Both young men had been torn from him. Only now had the plot come to light that the Venifucus might have orchestrated both tragedies in an effort to turn Dante to their side.

  But it would never work. Dante was many things, but he was not evil. He wouldn’t bestir himself to help restore an evil bitch to some kind of imagined throne from which she could rule mortals and immortals alike. No, he wanted no part of that.

  He only wanted justice for Erik and Elian.

  To that end, he’d become embroiled in the dust-up with the current werelords, Tim and Rafe, and their new mate, Allie. Somehow Allie had managed to summon Duncan from Underhill, rescuing the knight from his imprisonment in the fey realm. Dante and Duncan had been friends centuries before and it was the half-fey knight who tested Dante’s mettle by tempting him with the amazing power of his blood.

  Fey blood would kill most vampires outright. Half-fey blood, however, was diluted enough to pose a temptation most bloodletters could not refuse. With the ingestion of half-fey blood came power. There were few half-fey in any of the inhabitable realms, and they had quite enough power to stave off almost any vampire’s attempts to subdue them. No, the only way a vampire could get a taste of half-fey blood was if the half-fey allowed it, and since most supernaturals didn’t get along as a general rule, it rarely happened.

  Yet Duncan had given Dante his blood—although it was bespelled at the time to poison him if his intentions were truly evil. Duncan had tested him. It had been a hell of a risk. A poisoned vampire is a crazed vampire, and Dante could have killed Duncan long before the bespelled blood would have disposed of Dante.

  Luckily—or perhaps, it was fate rather than luck—Dante’s heart had proven true. He had passed Duncan’s little test and gained immense power, for a time, from the half-fey knight’s blood. Enough power to help the werelords trap Patrick Vabian and bring him to the justice of the Lady.

  Allie had done that. Smashingly well, Dante thought, by dispersing Vabian’s magic to the farthest realms and leaving it up to the Lady she served to exile Vabian—now powerless—to some forgotten realm. It was likely they’d seen the last of Patrick Vabian, though his allies in the Venifucus were still enemies to be reckoned with.

  But that battle was for another time. For tonight, there were women to bed and blood to be savored. Dante followed Duncan into the nightclub, well aware they would find more than a few willing mortal women inside. Dante paused to sniff the air, satisfied for the moment with the ripe scent of humanity that assailed his sharp senses. He also noticed some other, more subtle scent lacing the air.

  It was off to his right.

  Dante opened his eyes and looked around, only to meet the gaze of the most alluring woman he’d ever seen in all his long centuries. Lustrous, mink brown hair framed her face and swayed gently with her movements. Snapping hazel eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes batted at him with come-hither motions.

  She was sitting on a bar stool, surrounded by mortals, but she shone as if she were the only being in the room. She was not human.

  Dante sniffed again.

  Were.

  And she was looking directly at him, meeting his eyes boldly while she raised a glass of red wine to her lips. He followed the curving line of her luscious throat as it flexed in a swallow, and his cock went hard. Just like that.

  This woman was potent.

  And she held knowledge in her eyes.

  Silently, she stood and stalked toward him. She moved like a predator, sinuous and sensuous as she held his attention and his gaze, mesmerizing him. He got the feeling he was definitely her prey this evening and not the other way around. It was a novel experience for him. Never had a woman enthralled him so quickly or so completely.

  And they hadn’t even touched.

  That would soon be remedied.

  “She’s a fine looking woman, but beware my friend,” Duncan said in a low voice, “she is not what she seems.”

  Dante nodded, his gaze glued on the woman as she approached. “I know what she is.”

  “But do you know why? Why would such a creature seek you out?”

  Dante shrugged. “Probably for no good reason, though I find it hard to resist the puzzle she presents.”

  “Just be certain this puzzle doesn’t get you staked out in the desert at dawn.” Duncan laughed as he moved off, two women already in his sights. “I’ll be near if you need backup.”

  She didn’t realize he would be so handsome. Of course bloodletters were said to have a Glamour all their own. She didn’t think she was close enough to feel his magical influence, but she didn’t have any personal experience with his kind. Their powers were said to grow with the centuries, and Dante was an old one.

  There was something about the tall man at his side too. Something that gave Megan the heebie geebies. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what the deal was with him. He wasn’t a bloodsucker. His scent was different but very, very magical. Not human entirely, yet not anything else she recognized. She would have to tread carefully—very carefully—until she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

  Still, the ball was in play now. She’d have to see it through and play the game she’d planned. Just this one last task, and she’d finally be free of the meddlesome Altor Custodis. She would do just about anything to clear her family debt of honor, but she had to be careful. This Dante fellow was more than likely the deadliest being she’d ever meet.

  Squaring her shoulders, she walked up to him and shifted her weight to one foot, letting the opposite hip jut out toward him provocatively. Dante was certainly a tall drink of water, almost a foot taller than her own five foot four. Of course, she was petite for a wolf shifter. She was only half were by blood.

  She didn’t speak, just looked him over and let him look in return. She saw the flare of interest in his eyes before he banked it to something less obvious. She was close enough to scent his magic though well protected—she hoped—against his vampire mojo by her shifter nature. Still, he certainly did have an effect and she had to admit—mojo or not, this man was potent with a capital P.

  “Do you like playing with fire, little one?”

  His voice wafted over her like dark silk, caressing her pelt in the most sensuous way. She had to suppress a shiver of pleasure at the tone and timbre.

  She struggled for nonchalance. “I know what you are.”

  “And still you came to me? You’re a brave little shifter. Does your pack know what you’re up to?”

  “I have no pack. I’m a loner.” Her chin rose defiantly.

  “Ah, a lone wolf out on the prowl.” He made the words mocking. She squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “You are a foolhardy youngster, out to test her limits.”

  “No doubt I’m younger than you but by no means a child.” She thrust out her chest and was glad to see his gaze snagged by the motion. “I’m
curious, I’ll admit. I’ve heard your kind has certain abilities for pleasure.”

  Dante leaned back, studying her from under hooded eyes. He was a seducer of the senses in every word, every motion. It would be hard not to fall under his spell—magical or not. Everything female in her wanted to be with this male, regardless of his species or his power.

  He watched her, seeming to come to some kind of decision. “My name is Dante.”

  She laughed. “Playing with fire indeed. I get the literary reference, Dante.” She grinned at him. “My name is Megan.”

  “Well then, Megan, can I buy you a drink?” He ushered her toward the bar where two chairs opened up for them as if by magic.

  She knew darn well he’d used his influence over mortals to make the others move. It was a casual show of power that scared her. Without the protection of her shifter blood, would she be as powerless against him as other mortals? And how could she be certain she was protected? Would she even know if she was being influenced by his vampiric powers?

  It was a worrisome thought. This man was more than she’d been led to believe. She could tell from the few minutes she’d been in his presence. And his friend was troublesome too. What was he? Megan feared she’d suddenly been thrust into the deep end of the pool with no warning, and she’d have to learn to swim. Fast.

  “So what brings you here tonight?” Dante asked, turning back to her after ordering wine for them.

  “Just on the prowl.”

  “Ah.” He nodded knowingly. “Something your kind enjoys, from what I hear.”

  “How do you know what we enjoy?” She tried her best not to sound suspicious but feared some of her wariness showed through.

  He leaned back as the bartender returned with their wine. “Contrary to popular thought, I actually do have some friends among the weretribes.” He kept his voice low so that only she could hear him. Her hearing was better than any mortal’s and he definitely knew the scope of her abilities in that area at least, proving his shocking words might hold some truth.