Lynda Hilburn - Kismet Knight 01 by The Vampire Shrink

Author:The Vampire Shrink
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-04T19:20:42+00:00

“Kismet?”

What the hell? How’d he get here? And holy shit. Wouldja look at him?

Instead of his usual tight leather, Devereux was decked out in a luscious charcoal gray suit and a magnificent turquoise silk shirt. The color of the silk made his eyes appear even more spectacularly kaleidoscopic than usual. His hair shone like liquid moonlight. He could’ve stepped right out of the pages of a European high fashion men’s magazine.

Since I had no idea what he actually did with his time, I couldn’t even imagine where he’d been, spiffed up like that. I felt a brief twinge of jealousy at the thought of him dressing up for a woman. Maybe his assistant, Luna, or one of the other perfect female specimens he had working for him at The Crypt.

But then, who was I to be jealous when I’d spent part of the afternoon taking a shower and playing “show me yours and I’ll show you mine” with a fixated, well-endowed FBI agent?

Devereux glided over to me, swung me up off the ground with his arms around my waist, and thoroughly kissed me. And then kissed me again.

I was stunned, but apparently willing, because I’d thrown my arms around his neck at some point and kissed him back. Interesting to discover this entire new set of instinctual behaviors I seemed to have acquired regarding Devereux.

Pulling back slightly, he slid his lips close to my ear and whispered, “I have never felt so helpless as when I could not find you. There would have been no end to my vengeance had you been harmed.”

My own, personal avenging angel He looks like a god but talks like a character from a historical romance novel I can sure pick ‘em.

“Are you well? Did the dark one harm you?”

“Uh …”

There it is again. That brain-melt thing that happens to me whenever I’m within ten feet of Devereux. But, talk about bad timing

Alan leaped up from the couch, his face a mixture of confusion and outrage. “Hey! Devereux! What’s going on here? What are you doing?”

Despite that fact that it was difficult to appear threatening while wearing short, pink sweatpants and a decidedly feminist T-shirt, Alan managed to gather up sufficient testosterone to get his point across.

But Devereux wasn’t interested in butting heads with anyone. He lifted me up into his arms, glanced over at Alan and whispered gently in that amazing voice, “You are tired, my friend. Lie down on the couch and sleep now.”

Damned if Alan didn’t do just that.

He arranged himself into a fetal position, made a few soft, snorting sounds and drifted off, smiling.

Wow. That’s impressive. And disturbing. Shouldn’t I be putting up some kind of fuss? And should I worry about getting used to being carried around like this?

Devereux turned his attention back to me. “You must come with me now.”

There was a swoosh of air, a sound reminiscent of the crackle of electricity, and we were suddenly standing in the middle of Devereux’s private room, underneath The Crypt.

He released

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