Zen and the Art of Vampires

"You didn't actually say the word 'repulsive,' no, but you implied that just looking at me sickens you," I said, suddenly feeling like crying. Why did I care that he thought I was a frumpy, overweight hussy? "You can't deny that the only reason you kissed me is because I made you."

"Of course I deny it." He leaned even closer until I could feel his breath. "No one can make me do anything against my will. No one."

I ignored the fact that I couldn't seem to get enough breath into my lungs and gave him a cool look. "Oh, really? So you did want to marry me?"

"I said I was willing to do whatever it took to keep you from gaining the full powers of a Zorya, and I meant it," he answered, his voice low and gritty.

The air seemed to heat up several degrees in the alleyway. "That would imply that you did want to kiss me," I said, having to clear my throat a couple of times before I could speak.

His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I was suddenly aware of a most appalling fact—I wanted him to kiss me. Right then, right there, in front of the ghosts and anyone else who wandered by. I wanted to feel his mouth on mine, and taste him again, and rub myself against him in a wholly foreign manner. But worst of all, I wanted him to force me into a kiss so that I could pretend to myself that I didn't want it at all.

Shame and disgust tumbled around with confusion and indecision inside me. How could I sleep with one man, and the next day be wanting to kiss his evil friend? What was wrong with me?

"I've never been adverse to kissing mortals," Kristoff said in his deep, unusually sexy voice. I shivered a little despite the sudden heat that was making me very aware of the clothing binding my skin. "And I don't find you repulsive."

"Oh," I said, my brain giving up any attempt at sanity and settling down to providing my mouth with really insipid things to say. "Good. You're not repulsive, either."

I swear his eyes lightened then. They went from teal blue to a light robin's egg blue, the black flares from his pupils even darker. I took a deep breath at his nearness, wondering why I could feel air going into my lungs, but still felt light-headed and breathless. My breasts rubbed against the soft leather of his jacket, the sensation making me shiver again.

"I'm glad you think so." His lips brushed mine, just the lightest of touches, more a little bump than a kiss, but with it, I finally came to my senses.

"I'm not a harlot," I yelled, grabbing two fistfuls of his jacket and shaking them. "I do not sleep with a man one day, and kiss the living daylights out of his friend the next, no matter how much I want to. I'm not that sort of girl! You're bad. You're evil. You're a vampire, dammit! But you're no Angel, and I'm no Buffy, and you can just stop making me confused about everything!"

A puzzled look was followed by a quick spike of anger in his eyes, and then he was kissing me, really kissing me, with his lips and tongue and his hands in my hair, and I lost it all again. His tongue twined around mine in an erotic, sinuous dance that made me aware of all sorts of suddenly erogenous spots on my body. I rubbed my breasts into him, allowing him to taste me, savoring the sensation of his body so hard and hot and utterly masculine.

It's a good thing he was holding on to me, because my legs started to go weak under the effect of that kiss. By the time he pulled back, I was gasping for breath, stunned with the intensity of emotions that seemed to spring from him, but which I unaccountably shared. I stared up at him in unadulterated amazement, not sure what to make of anything anymore.

His eyes were the pale blue of an icy lake. "The discussion of which of us is truly evil will have to wait for another time. You are not safe here. The mundane police are looking for you, and a number of reapers live here."

I stepped back, my face red with embarrassment at his words. I'd become my worst nightmare—a pushy, shameless woman. What must he think of me? I all but seduced him in an alleyway, for god's sake, right in front of a gaggle of ghosts, the very day after I'd spent the night with his buddy. I lifted my chin and tried to regain my composure. "I figured the police would be looking for me. I'm not afraid of the Brotherhood people, though. I know you have issues with them, but they don't pose me any threat."

"Don't they?" The faintest hint of a smile showed on his damned lips. I dragged my gaze up from them and gave myself a mental lecture about morality. "What do you think they're going to do when they find out their precious Zorya is married to a Dark One?"

I frowned. "If the Zorya has to marry one of their own people, as you say, they aren't going to be happy, but they're hardly going to do anything to me other than take away the stone and make someone else Zorya."