"Ah, a vampire with exquisite taste. Is that all?"

Noting the triumph glittering in Halford's eyes, Dante at last judged the moment ripe. The demon was consumed with thoughts of the glory as he offered the Phoenix to his dark Prince.

"Actually, no. I shall also need this." Loosening his hold upon Abby, he bent downward and with one smooth movement grasped the daggers hidden in his boots. In the same motion, he was rolling forward, the daggers already leaving his hands as he came back up to his feet.

For a moment Haiford merely stood silent in the darkness. It was almost as if he hadn't yet noticed the dagger deeply planted in his middle eye or the other that stuck in his lower stomach. But whether he was in shock or indifferent to the danger, the deadly missiles had done their duty; with a rasping moan, he collapsed onto the vile rubbish that littered the alley.

Dante never hesitated as he flowed forward. With efficiency, he sliced open Halford's throat and then cut out his heart. He was never stupid enough to presume a demon was dead until he held its heart in Ms hand. At last satisfied, he reached to retrieve his daggers and traced his way back to Abby. She hastily backed away from his approach, her eyes wide with distress.

"Abby."

"No." She held out her hands. "Stay away from me."

Harshly smothering his flare of impatience, Dante forced himself to return the bloody daggers to his boots and to smooth back his tangled hair before taking another step closer. She was a breath away from bolting. One misstep and he would find himself having to chase her through the maze of alleys.

A wickedly delicious thought under normal circumstances, he ruefully conceded. Tonight, however, was anything but normal,

"Abby, the demon is dead," he soothed. "He will not harm you."

"And what of you?" she demanded in uneven tones. "You were going to sell me to that… thing. For blood."

"Don't be a fool. Of course I wasn't going to sell you." He reached out to grasp her chin, forcing her to meet his steady gaze. "I merely wanted to distract Halford long enough to strike. In case you didn't notice, he was somewhat larger than me. It seemed best to avoid an ugly brawl."

Her tongue peeked out to touch her lips. It was a tiny, unwitting gesture, and yet it made Dante's fingers tighten upon her delicate skin. No matter what the danger about them, having her so close stirred a fierce, aching hunger. One that he feared wouldn't be appeased any time soon.

"Why should I trust you?" she rasped.

His lips twisted as he lowered his hand and held it out. "Because for the moment, lover, you have no choice."

There was a long moment when she battled her inner demons before at last accepting that the demons currently hunting them were far more dangerous than him.

Still, it was with obvious reluctance that she at last laid her hand in his.

Not giving her time for second thoughts, Dante grasped her fingers and, with a tug, they were slipping through the darkness. He was startled by the flare of disappointment that touched him at her lingering fear of him. What else did he expect from a mortal?

Unfortunately, the knowledge that she considered him only a step above the evil creatures chasing them, and maybe not even a whole step, more like a baby half step, left a hollow sensation within him.

Turning down a side alley, Dante continued to brood upon the woman struggling to keep pace with his long strides. Brooding and tingling with awareness of her warm flesh touching his own. That no doubt explained why he was taken off guard when the hellhound abruptly sprang from the building overhead and knocked him to the ground.

In a heartbeat, the deadly hound had him pinned to the ground, the acid from his teeth dripping onto Dante's flesh with searing pain.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "You smelly, slimy piece of crap."

Reaching up, Dante was preparing to grasp the demon's throat and rip it out when there was a sudden whoosh of air, followed by the sickening crush of bone. He blinked as the hellhound tumbled to the side, obviously dead.

"Are you hurt?"

Like a vision from a dream, Abby was leaning over him, her face smeared with muck and her hair hanging in limp tangles, but her expression was one of gentle concern. Dante took a moment to savor the enchanting view before reluctantly pushing himself up to his elbows. Turning his head, he regarded the twitching demon before returning his attention to Abby.

"Nice swing, love," he murmured, taking in the rusty pipe she clutched in her hand. "Demon killer extraordinaire, in fact. Almost as good as—"

"Say the name Buffy and I'll stake you," she warned, raising the pipe in a threatening motion.

He gave a low chuckle. "Very frightening, sweet, but if you truly want to get the job done, it has to be wood."

'That could be arranged."

"No doubt." Dante rolled to his feet, brushing off the clinging filth. "Unfortunately, it will have to wait until later. For now we must be on our way."

Taking her arm, Dante was once again moving down the alley, on this occasion keeping his senses alert. Sharply, excruciatingly alert.

Devil spit. He had been knocked down by a hellhound. In front of a beautiful woman. He wasn't about to be humiliated again.

Killed, maybe. Staked, slaughtered, or beheaded, maybe. But not humiliated. A far preferable alternative for a proud vampire.

For near half an hour they traveled in silence, moving ever deeper into the slums. There were no more surprise attacks, but Dante could still sense demons in the distance.

Damn, he needed to determine if they were still following them or if he and Abby had managed to cover their trail.

Slowing his pace, he searched the shadows until he discovered a narrow door cut into the back of a brick building. He glanced about to ensure they were alone before lifting his leg and kicking the heavy steel off its hinges. There was a dull crash followed by a choking cloud of dust, but he never paused. Pulling Abby within the abandoned garage, he leaned against the twisted frame to keep watch for any unpleasant nasties that might be lurking in the dark.

Tense moments passed before Abby at last came to the end of her strained patience.

"What are we doing here?" she demanded.

"Waiting."

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"Away from here."

Her teeth snapped together. "Stunningly ambiguous as always. I suppose you think it makes you all dark and mysterious?"

"Oh, but I am dark and mysterious." He risked a glance over his shoulder to encounter her smoldering glare. "Isn't that how you like your men?"

"I like them with a heartbeat and a taste for quiche, not blood," she readily shot back.

Dante chuckled as he returned his gaze to the alley. "How can you be so certain, lover? You have yet to try a vampire. I can promise you it will be an experience you will never forget."

"God, you must be mental. Or the most arrogant—"

Dante abruptly held his hand up in warning. "Sssh."

Instantly on alert, she peered into the darkness. "Is something coming?"

'Yes. Stay behind me."

They waited in tense silence until at last the muffled sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. Sniffing the foul air, Dante swiftly assured himself that the intruders were human rather than demon before relaxing his tense muscles. They couldn't pose a true danger to him.

Then, the silence was broken by the static buzz of a voice floating through a walkie-talkie, and he heard Abby give a small gasp.

"Dante, it's the police. They can help us," she hissed before abruptly charging from behind him toward the door.

With pure instinct, Dante reached out to wrap her slight form in his arms. Smoothly he hauled her back into the building and pressed her against the wall. Her hands reached up to angrily beat at his chest, but already anticipating the scream that was about to expose their presence, Dante lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own.

His intent was honorable. The kiss was merely a means to prevent disaster. But the moment he touched the satin enticement of her lips, all honor was forgotten.

A combustible heat flared between them as he tightened his grip, and he devoured her with a hunger that he couldn't disguise. Bloody hell, he wanted her. He wanted to taste, to seduce, to consume her until his dark need was sated.

Restlessly his hands trailed up her back, brushing the tantalizing skin of her nape before plunging into the honey curls. He held her head steady as he continued to plunder her mouth, all thoughts of danger forgotten in a haze of searing pleasure.

Pressed against him, Abby momentarily stiffened in shock at the sudden embrace, but with gratifying speed, she offered a low moan and wrapped her arms about his neck as she opened her lips to his. Almost as if she had been waiting for this moment with the same fierce intensity as he had.

At the unmistakable capitulation, Dante instinctively softened his lips, his kisses deepening with persuasive intent. She stirred restlessly against his hardening thighs as his lips moved to trail over her smooth cheeks and down the arch of her neck. He was drowning in the passionate fire she had released within him.

"Abby… my sweet Abby… I want to feel you beneath me," he rasped in raw tones.