Vampires Bleed Too
Page 1
Vampires Bleed Too
The Deviants Series
Jacey Ward
Vampires Bleed Too
The Deviants Series
Jacey Ward
Copyright © 2018 by Jacey Ward
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Deviant (n) - any of a group of immortal beings, living secretly amongst mortals, who possess powers beyond that which humans can explain. E.g. vampires, demons, shifters, Valkyries, Fae, trolls, demi-god.
-Hermes
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Untitled
ALSO BY JACEY WARD
Hard Series
Afterword
Chapter 1
“You have a real knack for pissing people off.” It was a statement dipped in venom and it pleased the listener immensely. Evander grinned, his even, white fangs flashing as he showed his appreciation.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Crane. There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy anger. Especially not around like-minded individuals.”
“You and I are nothing alike,” Crane spat. “You’re a wannabe cop and I’m—”
“A billionaire CEO who isn’t smart enough to keep his prenup in working order by either keeping his dick in his pants or being discrete enough that his wife doesn’t find out. I mean for Christ’s sake, Crane, her sister?”
“What is she paying you?” the idiotic CEO sputtered. “I can double it! You can’t let the courts get those pictures. Jesus Christ, Evander. We’re men! We need to stick together. Haven’t you ever made a mistake you wished you could take back?”
“Uh…” Evander glanced down at the paper in front of him. “Twenty-four times in three months? No, I’ve never made that mistake.”
“Fuck, I was weak but I can’t afford to lose my business to that gold-digging bitch!”
“You should have thought about that before you dipped your cock inside her sister.”
Crane’s face twisted with fury as he advanced on the vampire, clearly unaware of Evander’s hidden talents.
“Fuck you, Evander. You’re a second-rate PI at best!”
It was clear that Crane wanted to punch him and Evander found himself willing the man forward.
“First rate enough for your wife,” Evander pointed his fingers at Crane in a mocking “gotcha” gesture. He saw the paperweight in his mind, flying toward his head even before the CEO had finished the thought.
Well that was fucking stupid, Crane, Evander thought, sighing even though he’d been fully expecting it. Without skipping a beat, the vampire reacted.
His face twisted into a ferocious mask, Evander pounced over the desk just as Crane picked up the knickknack. He pinned the man to the ground, his canines elongating to pierce into Crane’s neck.
He didn’t want to sink his teeth into Crane. He could already tell that the man’s blood would taste like piss and vinegar but Crane didn’t need to know that.
The illusion is everything, Evander thought, relishing the sheer terror on the mortal’s face.
“What the fuck?!” the mortal gasped in shock. “W-what are you?”
“If you ever step foot in my offices again,” Evander breathed evenly. “I will feast on your jugular and let my dogs take the rest for themselves. Are we clear?”
The scent of urine met Evander’s nose and he figured they were clear.
He released the man and leaned back, his well-sculpted ass resting perfectly upon the desk without so much as a crease in his tailored suit.
“Have a great day, Crane,” he mocked, as the man tried to crawl away, the wet spot on his tan khakis growing.
Did he shit himself too? That’s a pity.
“Oh, and tell your friends about me! I know Analisa will! That’s your soon-to-be-ex-wife by the way—the one taking you to the cleaners.”
Crane was gone, leaving the stench of his terror behind. Evander sighed and punched the intercom.
“Bethany, we had another shitter.”
His receptionist entered, her penciled eyebrows raising with disdain as she crinkled her nose.
“Oh dear,” she sighed. “You weren’t joking.”
“I never joke about shit, my dear.”
“I do wish you’d warn them to wear diapers beforehand,” she sighed in a clipped British accent. “This does become tedious, you know. Or rather, can you not pay them a visit after hours? One of these days, Evander, this will come back to bite you. No pun intended.
“I’ll deal with that animal when the time comes,” Evander replied, spinning back around to his computer. “But why would I make a special trip when they’re standing right in front of me? Anyway, that bastard tried to throw a paperweight at my head.”
“You hate that paperweight.”
“That is hardly the point,” Evander scowled, shaking his head. Sympathy was not Bethany’s strong suit. She was a pure-blood Lycan and colder than any Alpha he had ever met.
“Who’s next to shit themselves?” he sighed.
“Perhaps you should call it a day,” Bethany suggested. “I have another irate husband in reception and the senator on line 2. She said something to the effect of ‘if you consider releasing those videos, I will spend eternity hunting you down.’ Or something like that.”
Evander sighed and shook his head.
“Imagine what she’d do if she found out I could literally take her up on that.”
The vampire hybrid grinned at his receptionist and winked a translucent blue eye at her but as always, Bethany didn’t smile. It seemed to pain her to make the expression.
Or maybe she’s always constipated.
“You are perpetually amused,” Bethany grunted. “I don’t know how this doesn’t become tiresome for you. You’re getting a real reputation.”
“Good. I always wanted one of my own.”
She turned away, apparently as annoyed with him as he was with her but she paused and offered an afterthought.
“Oh…and Kalen called. Again.”
Evander groaned. She had done that on purpose, saving the worst news for last.
“The goddamned Corpus. What did he say?” Evander muttered.
“He said, and I quote, ‘tell that fucker to turn on his cell before I come down there and shove it up his ass.’ End quote.”
Evander chuckled and looked around for the dreaded device. He rarely kept it on, knowing it would explode the second it was powered up.
“If he calls again, tell him I’ll get back to him tonight.”
Bethany nodded curtly and turned away, leaving the vampire investigator alone in his spacious offices.
No sooner had he turned to his computer did the door fly inward again and John Crews stormed in.
Ah. The irate husband from the lobby.
“Good afternoon, John. How are you this brilliant New York day?”
“Save me the horse shit, Evander? What the hell do I pay you for?” his client screamed, face crimson.
“Not much apparently,” Evander replied lightly. “But that isn’t really my fault, is it?”
“Mr. Crews is on his way in,” Bethany intoned through the intercom and Evander rolled his eyes, sending his receptionist a telepathic message.
> Thanks for the heads up.
That’s why you pay me the big bucks, she retorted silently and Evander swallowed a grin.
“You had one simple job to do—get dirt on Violet!” John huffed. “And you couldn’t even do that!”
Evander shrugged his broad shoulders nonchalantly. He was well built for a vampire, his hybrid cross unknown but if he was a wagering man, he’d have guessed his father was either a demon or a Lycan. Vampires simply weren’t created with such muscular frames. They were wiry for stealth and speed.
But Mother had to go to go and die before telling me that information, didn’t she?
He ran a hand through his raven-black mess of curls and peered at his client without expression but he knew his crystalline eyes were unnerving John.
“What do you want me to say? Your soon-to-be ex-wife is an…” he was reluctant to use the word “angel”, the sentiment conjuring too many painful memories for Evander but he couldn’t think of a better assessment for the woman. “She’s without flaw. What did you do to lose her?”
John glowered.
“Am I paying you to play social worker or to ensure that I’m not paying out of my nose in this divorce?”
“What would you have me do, John? Violet pays her taxes, keeps her legs together and helps homeless kids when she’s not working sixty hours a week as a nurse. She’s going to be anointed into sainthood at this rate.”
John’s eyes were so narrowed, Evander wondered if he could see at all.
He looks like an idiot even though he’s trying to be intimidating.
“Plant evidence if you have to.”
Evander sighed. He’d expected a response like that from the boisterous lawyer but he wasn’t sure he was prepared to do it. In his line of work, he met the scummiest of the upper crust, men and women who would set their own mothers on fire to save a few bucks. It was rare to find a woman as wholesome as Violet Crews.
Not that he was looking for one. He wasn’t looking for any mortal woman whatsoever. The immortals were enough of a pain in his ass.
Still, if there was a woman he could see himself going after, it would be John Crews’ wife.
I wonder what he would say if I told him that aloud.
“Yeah, planting evidence isn’t really my thing,” Evander lied. “Sorry.”
“I’ll pay you double,” John insisted. “Triple. Christ, anything! I can’t let that bitch take the island in Costa Rica!”
Evander didn’t know much about Violet Crews. Sure, he’d been following her for the better part of a month, trying to dig up the nonexistent dirt which John had been certain existed but from what the PI had gleaned, the woman was not a bitch. It was hard to reconcile the sweet-faced woman with the widow-making wench that John portrayed her to be.
John had come to him proclaiming that Violet was attempting to poison him. When Evander asked about his proof, he had an answer for that.
“She’s a nurse! She knows how to make it look like an accident!”
Personally, Evander was sure that the man was a whack job but it wasn’t his business. His business was finding what his client needed and his client needed help—at a great cost.
No harm in making a little profit, he told himself firmly. I do good work.
“Evander,” John tried again, sensing that threatening was not the best angle. His voice had taken on a much softer, more placating note. “This is very important to me.”
“I can see that, John,” Evander knew he was going to give in. Violet’s character was really none of his concern and if John was willing to pay for fabricated evidence, it wasn’t like Evander was one to sneer down from his high horse.
“It’ll cost you triple,” Evander agreed, considering his options but even as he was thinking, he wondered why he was having a flash of conscience.
He wasn’t even aware that he had a conscience.
For centuries, Evander had been singularly employed by the Corpus, one of the mafia families of the underworld. It was only in recent years that he’d branched out, hanging out on the earthly realm, cashing in on the moronic disputes of divorcing couples and white-collar criminals. It was appalling to him that he hadn’t foreseen the riches before.
Well, it’s less that I didn’t see the riches and more that the Corpus demanded more of me than there was to give, he reasoned. With Kalen running the Corpus now, Evander was a free agent and wealthier than any mortal PI could ever hope to be.
Of course, other PIs couldn’t claim his talents. They simply couldn’t scale buildings and take pictures upside down. Taking their business was like stealing candy from a baby, really.
“Okay,” John said, begrudgingly and Evander could see he was mentally weighing the cost in his mind. “But it better be good, something devastating, like her fucking a goat or something.”
Even Evander was disgusted and he peered at the lawyer with disdain.
“I’ll make it good but I don’t have any goats on staff and photoshop is easily disproven but I’ll think of something.”
The words stuck oddly in his throat.
“It’s a deal!” John agreed, relief coloring his face. “I’ll have my office send you a cheque.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, John,” Evander boomed jovially and the client seemed relieved until the vampire spoke again. “Cash only.”
John grimaced and nodded.
“I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
Evander waved him away and the attorney shuffled away, muttering something about highway robbery.
Instantly, Bethany reappeared, holding a can of air freshener in her hands.
“The senator is still holding,” she reminded him, spraying the scent to mask the remnants of Crane’s bladder from the inner office.
“I wonder how long she’ll stay on holding?” Evander mused. “What was the record? Two hours?”
“Two and a quarter,” Bethany corrected him, ceasing her attack on the breathable air around them. “Carl Lucas.”
Evander nodded at the memory and rose lazily to his feet.
“I’m going to lunch. Want anything?”
For the first time all day, her face brightened and she nodded eagerly.
“Oh! I would kill for a gyro right now!”
Evander nodded in surprise. He’s been thinking Greek too…although maybe not exclusively in terms of food.
He couldn’t help eyeing the voluptuous redhead with desire mounting in his blood. Evander had not been quiet about his attraction toward his secretary and some days, he thought that Bethany returned his sentiments.
Like then.
She seemed to return his expression with glimmering green eyes. She was just so damned hard to read, he couldn’t be sure if she was making eyes at him or trying to melt him with her steely irises.
She’d never dismissed him entirely and Evander was worldly enough to know when a woman was making eyes at him but Bethany was an enigma and while nothing had really happened between them, he didn’t give up hope—at least not yet.
“It’s like we’re connected!” he told her, moving around the desk, his light eyes glowing with promise. She gave him a look which Evander knew was the closest he was going to get to a smile and he took it as a good sign.
“Yes,” she purred, her accent causing a surge of heat to pool in his crotch. “It’s like fate, isn’t it?”
She didn’t shy away from his large hand as it rested against her hip and he drew her slightly closer, his gaze locking on hers. Slowly, her long fingers grazed against the growing bulge at the front of his Escada jeans and Evander groaned softly, bucking his hips forward inadvertently. He moved his mouth forward when her fingers curled along his covered shaft but Bethany ducked her head, shaking it tauntingly.
“Why do you drive me crazy?” he murmured, his full lips inches from hers. Her luscious mouth curved upward and she cocked her head back to return his look.
“Maybe because you’re hangry. I’ll take a combo. Extra feta and hot sauce.”
He groaned at no one in particular but didn’t move, willing his hard-on to subside before grabbing his wallet from the desk and heading out into the hallway.
I better feed the beast, he thought, shaking his head. After all, the way to drop Bethany’s pants might be through her stomach.
After years of subtle promises on her end, Evander doubted it but like any self-respecting dog with a bone, he had to try.
Bethany snapped at him as he wandered by and spoke into her mouthpiece.
“No, Mr. Connor, he’s right here.”
Evander sighed.
“Fuck.”
So much for lunch.
“Patch it through to my office,” Evander told her, pivoting back toward the interior room. He couldn’t avoid the Corpus forever.
“Kalen.”
“What’s the point of having a goddamned cell if it’s never on?” the demon growled. “And don’t I pay for your cell service?”
“How’s Switzerland?” Evander asked conversationally, ignoring the pointed question. He sank into his high-back leather chair. “And Circe?”
“That’s precisely why I’m calling,” Kalen grunted. Evander sat up with alarmed interest.
“What’s happened?”
“Well, if you answered your damned phone—ah, never mind. I have a job for you.”
“Is Circe all right?”
“She’s okay. I can’t say the same for her models. Well, one model.”
“I’m not following.”
Over the phone, Kalen released a deep sigh.
“The top model in her agency is being harassed and I need you to figure out who’s behind it.”
Evander stifled a grunt of annoyance. He had better things to do with his time than track down some obsessed fan.