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No fucking way. He’d had a major hard-on for the vampire for so long it was stupid. He’d coveted and dreamed about her for years. When he was in the bowels of Hell her memory, her scent, and the need to see her again were what got him through.
He’d made a vow that when he made it out he’d claim her, tell her exactly how he felt, and explain to her why she needed to let him in. To be with him.
It was his sorry-ass luck that a week after he escaped Hell with Julian Castille she was dead at his feet and his butt had been signed over to the Seraphim.
He clenched his teeth so tightly that his jaw ached as he continued to work. He still could not think clearly of that day and the events that had led to her death.
Fate had pretty m
uch kicked him in the ass, and yet now, two years later, he was getting a second chance.
Declan felt his groin tighten at the thought of her lips against his, and of the way she felt against his body—so small, compact, and fierce. He’d waited years for that kiss and though he’d acted cool and in control, the simple truth was, in that moment she’d wrecked him.
He was not going to let this opportunity slide by. He’d protect the teenager, something he’d have done regardless. He’d also do what he could for the others on the list.
But his ultimate goal was the vampire. He would have her.
His eyes flew open as a bolt of energy slid through him. It was only a question of when.
Chapter 6
Decatur Street was crazy. It was a typical Friday night in the Big Easy, yet the dark undercurrent that slithered beneath the crowd had Declan on edge. Everything was too loud, too frenetic. He could literally taste the chaos that rode the wind.
Sad to say it was a taste he could learn to love.
He glanced at Ana. She was tense. She’d deny it of course, but he saw it clear as day. Her hands were tight at her sides and her jaw was clenched as she scanned the crowd.
“You feel it?” he asked.
Ana nodded but remained quiet. She’d been like that since the night before. It wasn’t something he was used to, and in fact he much preferred her biting tongue and sarcastic comebacks.
“Something isn’t right.” He nodded to the crowd. “They’re not right.”
“It’s Samael. He’s close by.” She glanced up at him. “Are you sure the house is protected? I should have stayed home with Kaden.”
He didn’t like anyone questioning his power but was willing to cut her some slack. It was obvious she was worried. “No one will get through my charms.”
“Samael is strong.”
“No shit,” Declan murmured, “and the pack of wolves Ransome sent over will keep him more than busy if he shows.”
He spied the Voodoo Lounge and guided Ana through the dense crowd. The incredible hulk was once more on door duty, but this time stepped away and directed them inside.
The club was filled near to bursting, hundreds of bodies gyrating to the heavy music that blasted from the stage. The room was hot, the atmosphere even hotter, and he inhaled a blast of sweat, booze, and sex. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t affect him. The energy was potent, just the kind he liked.
A tall shifter approached them, a wolf, but his eyes were only for Ana.
“DeLacrux.”
Declan’s jaw clenched. Who the hell was this?
Ana nodded. “Asher.”
The wolf bowed. He was old school and carried a certain charm that wasn’t present in today’s world. Shifters lived longer than humans but maxed out around two hundred years. This shifter was mature and deadly.
“I’m O’Hara,” Declan proclaimed as he moved so that he now stood between the two of them.
The werewolf turned his attention to Declan. “I know exactly who you are.”
