by Cynthia Eden
“Drag his ass out,” Jane snapped. Then she squared her shoulders. The body wouldn’t stay out there much longer. The victim would need to be moved. And she wanted to be there. She wanted to make sure the ME saw those puncture wounds. Jane needed to make sure the victim was taken care of—the victim was her priority. And finding the girl’s killer?
Oh, hell, yes, I’m on that, too.
She marched back toward the body. She’d be seeing Locke again. Very, very soon.
Her hand slid down to her right side. Pressed hard. The mark there, as always, seemed to burn…
***
Aidan Locke didn’t usually hang out at police stations. But tonight was different. Tonight, there wasn’t an option.
So he’d followed the pretty cop—detective—back across town. Mary Jane Hart. Though he learned that she didn’t allow herself to be called Mary Jane. No, she was just Jane.
And, on the force, she was also all business.
Jane. Not exactly what he’d expected. Small, almost petite. A dancer’s body and a warrior’s mind. Such an interesting blend.
When he’d seen her earlier, her dark hair had been pulled back, making her eyes seem even bigger. Even darker. Her skin had been a warm gold. And her hand—it had been itching to grab her gun.
As if the gun would have done any good against him.
Meeting her had certainly been interesting. And the fact that she’d instantly looked at him and thought killer—well, that had been obvious enough.
And, unfortunately, she’d been dead on.
Before coming to the station, he’d made a little stop at the ME’s office. He’d talked to the doctor. Made sure that the right stories were told. The right tests performed on the body that had been brought in to the morgue. He had everything covered. As usual. After all, it was his job to keep the dark secrets of the city hidden.
Someone had to be in charge of the place. And the humans—they just thought that they were running the show. No, he was the one pulling the strings. Had been for quite some time. And Aidan would be…for many, many years to come.
The current case was handled. The murdered woman would be forgotten. The matter filed away.
All that remained now was for him to have a talk with the pretty detective. He’d saved her for last. The shadows surrounded him as he waited for her to leave the building.
Someone sure liked working late…Another detail he filed away about the delectable Jane Hart.
All work and no play…
Well, it didn’t make for a fun night in New Orleans.
Twenty more minutes passed, and then he saw her. She moved briskly down the police station’s stone steps, and her gaze swept around the scene, as if looking for threats.
A threat was there, but she didn’t see him. His prey never did.
She hurried down the sidewalk, her stride confident and quick, and he stepped out of those shadows to follow behind her. He didn’t make a sound. Not even a rustle and—
Jane whirled toward him, her gun drawn and her body surging with a quick, fluid power. Before he could even blink, her gun was aimed at his heart.
“What kind of idiot stalks a homicide detective?” Jane snarled at him.
The woman had bite. He normally liked that, a lot. But this wasn’t about pleasure. This was about business. Strictly business. “Stalking is a very strong word,” Aidan murmured, “I was merely…hoping for a chat.”
She didn’t lower her gun. “So we could finish our conversation from earlier?”
He nodded.
“Conversation…interrogation…I guess you could call it whatever you wanted, Aidan.”
Ah, so she’d been digging into his life. He wasn’t worried. The cops knew only what he allowed them to know. “Aidan Locke,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “At your service.”
The gun still wasn’t lowering. So, he just stepped forward, and he kept advancing, until the gun pressed into his chest. “I didn’t kill that poor girl.”
“So your staff at Hell’s Gate told me, again and again. The ME said the victim died less than an hour before she was found.”
Made sense, considering that Aidan knew the killer would have only hunted at night.
“And everyone who works for you was quick to point out that you’d been having some kind of grand opening bash at that time, and you were right at the bar, serving drinks for all to see.”
“Glad you checked out my alibi.”
“I checked out you.” Then, finally, she lowered the gun. But her delicate shoulders remained tense and her chin had notched into the air. “I also sent in one of the uniforms to find you right after that little disappearing act you performed on Bourbon Street, but you were nowhere to be found.”
Light from a street lamp fell onto her face. A rather striking face. Not beautiful, but better. Her eyes were a bit exotic, turning up at the corners. Her nose was long, elegant. And her thick hair was slipping out of the ponytail and sliding around her face. Softening her.
Tempting him.
Not now. Business only. Pleasure later.
“I want to help,” Aidan said. The words were true enough. He did want to help. He’d find justice for that poor victim. After all, giving her justice was his job.
“Glad to hear that.” Jane nodded.
So serious. He knew quite a bit about the new detective. Facts that he’d read weeks ago when she’d first been vetted for the open homicide detective position. Though he doubted the woman realized he’d been the one to approve her promotion. When it came to homicide cops in the Big Easy, he always had final say. After all, he didn’t want anyone getting in his way.
There was a status to maintain.
“If you’re helping,” she continued, “then I’d like you to turn over your bar’s security footage from tonight. I could get a court order, but that would just take precious time. Time I don’t need to waste.”
No, he didn’t imagine that she liked wasting time.
“I’ll help,” he said again, nodding.
“Good.” She holstered her weapon. “And if we’re going to talk, we’re going to walk at the same time. I want to see what else the ME has for me.”
The walk wouldn’t be far. And the ME would have nothing for her. Aidan had seen to that.
But he fell into step beside her, automatically slowing his faster stride to match up with hers. Her scent wrapped around him—something soft. Feminine. Probably one of those lotions that human women were always using. He rather…liked her smell. What was it? He inhaled again.
Apples and…lavender. A nice blend.
Only…there was something more. A deeper, richer scent that was pulling at him. Drawing him closer to her.
Tempting.
“Are you sniffing me?”
He stopped.
“Because that is some weird serial killer shit if you’re doing that. Don’t make me go for my gun again.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw that her hand was already near the holster.
“You smell good,” he said, deciding to go with the truth. “But I’ll try to stop the ‘serial killer shit’ for you.”
“You’d better.” Her steps didn’t hurry. She wore boots and jeans. Jeans that hugged her legs and ass ever so well. He’d noticed the ass-hugging earlier, before she’d turned with her gun drawn. She had on a jacket, one that looked a bit battered, so he couldn’t tell much about her upper body. He suspected her breasts were as perfect as her ass.
“I don’t want lies from you.”
Pity. He only had lies to give her.
“Did you know the victim?”
He shook his head.
“Her prints turned up in the system. She had a…solicitation charge against her. Melanie Wagner, age twenty-one. Just twenty-one. According to the intel I gathered, she was dancing at one of those dives on Bourbon Street.” Disgust had entered her voice. “She didn’t deserve to be tossed away like trash.”
She hadn’t been tossed away, though.
He’d seen the body and had noticed the care that had been taken to position young Melanie just right.
“I will find her killer.” It sounded as if Jane was making a vow. She should be careful doing that. It was never good to make a promise that you couldn’t keep.
Up ahead, a small alley snaked away from the street. Darkness filled that alley, and, automatically, his gaze slid toward it. What a perfect hunting spot.
His tongue slid over the edge of his teeth. He could feel them starting to sharpen. “I certainly wish you luck with that endeavor.” He started to say more, but then heard a faint rustle of sound. A light noise coming from the alley. Jane wouldn’t have noticed it. Most humans wouldn’t.
“Forget luck. Give me that security footage.”
He stopped walking.
So did she.
Aidan forced a smile. “Of course. I’ll call my manager right now and make sure the footage is sent to you.” He pulled out his phone, but didn’t call anyone. “I hope the ME has news that you can use.”
Her gaze raked over him. “I don’t get you.”
No, she wouldn’t. But she should hurry along to the ME’s office. The streets weren’t safe for her. Or rather, that particular street wasn’t safe right then.
This problem shouldn’t be happening. After he got the test results, the ME should have called in the clean-up team.
“No prior convictions, not so much as a traffic ticket,” she said as she tilted her head. More tendrils of her hair escaped from her ponytail, and that scent of hers was seriously getting beneath his skin. “But when I look at you, I see you.”
He tensed at that, wondering just what she meant.
“You’re not some safe guy who plays by the rules. That’s a lie. The image you’re giving to the world is a lie.”
She was hitting far too close to the truth. “So what am I?” Who am I?
“That’s really what I’d like to know.” She shook her head, sending those tendrils of hair sliding over her cheek. “Make that call. I’ll be paying you a visit at Hell’s Gate come morning.”
Morning wasn’t that far away.
Jane gave him a curt nod and then headed for the ME’s office.
He called his manager and made sure his voice carried as he gave instructions for Graham to send the security footage to Detective Hart. And Aidan watched her walk away.
A truly great ass.
When she hurried up the steps that would take her into the building that housed the ME’s office, his attention turned to the alley once more.
He could hear those rustles again. Louder.
And…a cry. A gurgle?
Hell.
The detective was safe, but someone else wasn’t. He could smell the blood in the air. His hand reached into his coat, and his fingers curled around the wooden stake he’d hidden there.
Never leave home without a good stake. Advice he’d followed since his thirteenth birthday.
When he rushed into the alley, he saw the victim was struggling, kicking and scratching in the vampire’s grip. And that vamp—the vamp was guzzling the guy’s throat. A homeless man, by the looks of him. A fellow who’d made the mistake of thinking the alley was a safe place to sleep.
It wasn’t safe.
“Let him go.” Aidan’s voice was sharp and hard. Cold with power.
The vamp ignored him. Kept drinking. The homeless man’s struggles became weaker.
Shit.
“You’re killing him.”
The vampire looked up at him. Laughed. Madness burned in that gaze. Madness and power but the vampire did actually let go of the victim.
Then the vamp charged at Aidan, rushing forward with fangs bared.
Those fangs never touched him.
The stake drove into the vampire’s chest, fast and hard and brutal. Straight to the heart. The vampire cried out and Aidan’s arms wrapped around his prey. “It’s all right now,” Aidan said softly.
The vampire blinked up at him. Death was coming.
Aidan lowered the vamp to the ground. The alley was dirty. It smelled of urine and rotting food. The urine had probably come from the homeless man. During the attack he’d no doubt—
The vamp’s hand grabbed tight to him. Like a claw.
Aidan could have broken away. He didn’t. He stared down at his prey. When the life faded from the vamp’s eyes, he was still crouched there, waiting.
After all, someone should stay until the end.
No one deserved to die alone.
Want to continue reading? Download BITE THE DUST.
A Note From the Author
Thank you so much for taking the time to read FORBIDDEN BITE. I hope that you enjoyed the story.
If you’d like to stay updated on my releases and sales, please join my newsletter list www.cynthiaeden.com/newsletter/. You can also check out my Facebook page www.facebook.com/cynthiaedenfanpage. I love to post giveaways over at Facebook!
Again, thank you for reading FORBIDDEN BITE.
Best,
Cynthia Eden
www.cynthiaeden.com
About The Author
Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes dark tales of paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and IndieReader best-seller. Cynthia is also a three-time finalist for the RITA® award. Since she began writing full-time in 2005, Cynthia has written over fifty novels and novellas.
Cynthia is a southern girl who loves horror movies, chocolate, and happy endings. More information about Cynthia and her books may be found at: http://www.cynthiaeden.com or on her Facebook page at: http://www.facebook.com/cynthiaedenfanpage. Cynthia is also on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/cynthiaeden.
Her Works
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Purgatory Series
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Confessions (Battling McGuire Boys...Book 1)
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Reckonings (Battling McGuire Boys...Book 4)
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Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents, Book 7)
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Abduction
Hunted - Available 06/20/2017
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Heart Of Stone (Bad Things, Book 5)
Tempted By Fate (Bad Things, Book 6)
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Bite The Dust (Blood and Moonlight, Book 1)
Better Off Undead (Blood and Moonlight, Book 2)
Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight, Book 3)
Blood and Moonlight (The Complete Series)
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