Femme Fatale

by Cynthia Eden

  “Why me?”

  Now he was asking the right question, but she couldn’t answer that question, not just yet. “Your connections will be useful. You’re just like a cop because of the people you know—only you don’t have that whole must-uphold-the-law bit to hold us back.” The law would definitely get in her way.

  Car horns honked outside, and her enhanced hearing easily picked up the sounds of laughter and voices floating up from the street.

  “I think the killer is going to come for me, too. So if you take the job, I’ll need you to promise to stay by my side, every moment, until this case is closed,” Savannah added.

  A faint furrow appeared between his brows. “You’re in danger?”

  She nodded. “Good thing I’m hiring a big, bad human detective to keep me safe.”

  The faint lines near his mouth deepened and she was pretty sure his jaw had to be clenched tightly.

  “Make it ten thousand a night,” she said carelessly as she glanced around his office once more. “I think you could use the money.”

  He growled.

  How delectable. Her heart raced faster.

  “Lady,” he said.

  She looked back at him expectantly.

  “Crazy, sane, or vampire…doesn’t matter to me. From this point on, for ten grand a night, you’re my client.”

  “Good. Then I think we’d better get started.” She just hoped he was ready for the world he was about to face. If he’d thought that dealing with human criminals was hard, he was about to be in for a heavy shock. “The night is waiting.”

  ***

  Intoxication.

  Even though it was early, barely nine o’clock, a long line of men and women were already circling the block, waiting to get inside the club.

  “You would have thought that the little matter of a murder would turn people away from this place,” Mick muttered.

  Savannah laughed. “Murder is what drew the crowd. Some people love danger.” She took his hand and cut right through that crowd. She headed toward the bouncer, a big, burly guy with lots of piercings.

  The bouncer took one look at her and stepped back. “Go right in, Ms. Moreau.” His eyes narrowed on Mick. “And Ms. Moreau’s…guest.”

  Her arm looped with Mick’s, and he tried not to stiffen. The way she was holding tight and close—she was making it look as if they were lovers, and he figured that was as good a cover as any. Especially since he still didn’t know what the hell was really happening. But for ten grand a night…

  He’d go with the flow.

  Music blasted them when they stepped inside Intoxication. The dance floor was packed, and the bodies were sure gyrating inside. Couples were pressed intimately close and scents—alcohol, perfume, sex—hung heavily in the air.

  Savannah led him onto the dance floor and then turned into his arms. She pressed her body tightly against his—so close that he could feel every tempting curve—and she whispered, “I think the killer took both victims from this club.”

  He wrapped his hands around her hips. She had one fine ass, and if he was supposed to be playing a role, why not enjoy himself? “Why this place?”

  “Because I like to come here,” she said. “It’s easy to find willing prey here. When people drink, they’re less likely to remember a bite or two.”

  “You think the killer is—what? Setting you up?” But then a thought clicked for him, and he stopped that very slow dancing that he’d been doing. He wasn’t a damn good dancer anyway, and he’d pretty much just been swaying, for her. “Wait, you said that you knew both men. Had you drunk from them?’ And why did that thought cause a stir of jealousy within him? He was barely buying into her crazy story, and the last thing he should feel was the sting of a green-eyed beast just because—

  “I might have enjoyed a sip or two. But don’t worry, while we’re together, I won’t indulge with anyone else. Promise.”

  He shook his head.

  “What are we supposed to do now?” Savannah asked him. “And would you please start dancing again? I like to dance.”

  She—hell. He started shuffling his feet again.

  “You’re the detective,” Savannah said as she curled her arms around his neck and stretched, rather cat-like, against him. “What’s our first move? I brought you to the scene of the crime…”

  Now he understood. She really did want him to investigate. And she wanted to be his partner, or something. His gaze slid toward the bar. “In places like this, the bartender always sees what goes on. The bartender watches and listens. If anyone can give us info, it will be him.”

  Her head turned and he knew she was staring at the bartender, too.

  Only when the bartender saw her, the redheaded guy dropped the glass he’d been holding. It hit the floor, shattering. And then the bartender turned and flat-out ran toward the STAFF door on the right.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Mick said. He grabbed her wrist. “Come on.” Mick gave chase, moving as fast as he could with his bad knee. When people got in his way, he just shoved them aside. His instincts were definitely screaming at him. In his experience, people ran for two reasons.

  They were afraid.

  They were guilty.

  He slammed his hand on the STAFF door and saw that it led into a small stock room. An empty stock room. Because the bartender hadn’t stopped in there. Instead, he’d headed out the now open back door of Intoxication and into the alley.

  Mick immediately rushed out that back door. Savannah was right with him. They cleared the door and—

  Bam!

  The sharp retort of gunfire filled the air. It was a sound that still haunted Mick’s nightmares. Reminding him of an ambush that had changed his life and—

  Savannah slammed into him. He hit the ground because that slender lady had just hit him with the impact of a linebacker. And in the next second, Savannah was falling down on top of him.

  His hands came up and wrapped around her shoulders. He could hear footsteps rushing away.

  The bartender had just shot at them. Why?

  “Are you okay?” Savannah asked softly as she lifted up, bracing on her hands.

  He nodded. She’d just saved his life.

  “Good.” She rose to her feet. “Then let’s go get that trigger happy jerk.”

  He brushed himself off and pushed to his feet. He started to run after—

  Savannah had disappeared. Moved in that incredibly fast blur, just as she’d done in his office. Only then he’d thought that maybe he’d imagined it.

  He wasn’t imagining things.

  Bam. Another blast of gunfire sounded and he ran after that sound. Savannah! Her name was a desperate scream in his mind as he rounded the corner of that alley. He’d better not find her dead on the ground, like he’d found his last partner. Like he still saw his partner in his nightmares.

  But Savannah wasn’t lying in a pool of blood.

  She had the bartender pinned up against the side of a huge, green garbage bin. One delicate hand was wrapped around the man’s throat and in her other hand, she held his gun.

  “Savannah!” Mick shouted. Was she about to kill the guy?

  She jerked at his call, and the gun fell from her hand.

  He closed the distance between them as fast as he could, and when he got closer, he saw that the bartender’s eyes were wide, nearly bugging from his head with fright.

  “Please,” the man whispered. “I won’t tell…just let me go!”

  “Tell what?” Mick demanded as he kicked that gun farther away.

  The bartender was gazing—terror-stricken—at Savannah. “Won’t tell…what you are!”

  Savannah huffed out a breath and said, “Seriously, Mick, my patience is gone. Question this little jerk. Do your thing. And let’s…let’s get out of here.”

  Did her voice tremble a bit? It had, and tension swept through him. Even more tension than he was already feeling.

  “Let go of his throat,” Mick told her, keeping his voic
e calm with a supreme effort. “That way he can actually talk.” And not just gasp out words.

  She let go, slowly.

  The bartender immediately threw up his hands, cowering back against that garbage bin. “Don’t kill me!”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Savannah muttered right back.

  Mick grabbed the guy’s hands and jerked them down. “Right now, you need to deal with me.”

  Was the guy crying? He was! Mick could see the tear streaks on his face, almost glinting in the moonlight.

  “You’re scared to death,” Mick said as he released the other man.

  “You should be, too,” the guy told him, nodding frantically.

  Luckily, Mick had never scared easily. “What’s your name?”

  “Will. Will Mato.” He shuddered. “Just let me go. I swear, I won’t tell—”

  “Do you know who killed the fellow who was recently found outside of Intoxication?”

  “I found the body, man. I know a vampire bite when I see one.”

  Vampire. Was everyone really thinking monsters were running loose in Chicago?

  “She’s been in the club enough,” Will muttered, jerking his chin toward Savannah. “I’ve seen what she does, when she takes the men into the private room. I’ve seen the marks.”

  Savannah started pacing. “I didn’t kill those men! You saw them all come back out, didn’t you? Alive?”

  “You had Ben in that room with you two nights ago,” Will said. “Then he wound up dead. Same marks on him…and you’re the only vamp I know.”

  “But I’m not the only vamp in town,” Savannah snapped back. “But I’m betting the real killer was in the club the night Ben Travers died.”

  Mick’s hold tightened on Will. “Did you see Ben with anyone that night?”

  “Heard him say he had a hot date…” Will edged away from the garbage container. “Figured it had to be with her.”

  “It wasn’t,” Savannah fired at him.

  “All I know is that Ben went out the back door, rushing to meet his date, and when I headed out back a few hours later, he was naked, with vamp marks on his neck, and stone cold dead.”

  The guy sounded as if he were actually telling the truth. He was terrified. Will Mato was trigger-happy, but…truthful? Maybe. “You didn’t see anyone else in the alley? Didn’t hear anything?”

  “Nothing. Ben was dead, sprawled on the ground. His clothes were tossed away, and the guy was just lying there.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Savannah said again. From the corner of his eye, Mick saw that she’d stopped pacing.

  Mick kept his focus on Will. “You knew the other victim, too.”

  Will nodded, a bit hesitantly. “Steve was a regular at the bar. He had an eye for blondes. Poor dead bastard.”

  Savannah lunged toward Will, but before she could grab him again, Mick stepped in her path. He gave a short, hard negative shake of his head. Savannah threw up her hands, as if surrendering, and stepped back. Got to remember…that lady has a temper.

  Mick cleared his throat and glanced toward Will. “The night Steve vanished…did you see him talking to anyone special at the club?”

  “Uh, yeah…Now that you mention it…Steve Douglas was with some guy. He came in with a buddy and left with him, too.”

  Savannah leapt to Mick’s side. “What buddy?”

  Mick put his hand on her shoulder. She needed to tone the hell down. If she’d hired him to do detective work, then she needed to let him do his job. “Describe the buddy.”

  “A-about your height. Your build. Brown hair. I don’t know—it was a dude, okay? I don’t spend much time watching dudes. He and Steve were drinking beers together, well…actually…he wasn’t drinking. Just Steve. And when Steve seemed to get drunk, the guy said he’d take his friend home.”

  Only Steve hadn’t wound up at home. He’d wound up dead.

  “You think that guy was a vampire?” Will asked, his voice hushed.

  He had no clue. Mick slipped the bartender his card. “You remember anything else about that…buddy…you call me, got it? You see anything suspicious at Intoxication, then you notify me right away. I’ll make it worth your while.” No, he wouldn’t. But it was fun to say he would.

  Will’s fingers fisted around the card. “You aren’t going to kill me?”

  “What?” Mick demanded. Then he realized Will had been staring at Savannah when he asked that question.

  “Don’t tempt me,” she muttered back.

  Uh, not the answer she should have given. No wonder the lady had come to him instead of the cops.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Mick ordered Will. But when Will tried to brush past him, Mick caught his shoulder and yanked the guy close, “And for the record,” he whispered in Will’s ear. “If you ever pull a gun on me or on her again, it will be your last bad mistake.”

  Will flinched.

  When Mick let him go, the guy ran back toward Intoxication. Fast. The door slammed shut behind him.

  “So…” Savannah’s voice seemed huskier than before. “Remember how I said I wouldn’t drink from anyone else while we were together?”

  His head whipped toward her.

  “I-I may have to break that promise.” She took a step, then stumbled. Before she could hit the ground, he grabbed her, holding her tight.

  “Savannah?” She’d seemed fine moments before—so strong and fierce, but she was trembling in his arms.

  “Didn’t…want him to see…how weak I was…”

  His hands slid over her, and Mick realized that her shirt was wet.

  She whimpered at his touch.

  Not wet. That’s blood. “That sonofabitch shot you.” Rage poured through his veins. She’d protected him, and that asshole had shot her!

  “Blood loss…is bad for a vamp…” She shivered. “I need to find prey.”

  “No, what you need is a doctor.” He lifted her into his arms, holding her easily. “I’ve got you, baby, I’ll take care of you.” The endearment rolled right off his tongue and he didn’t give it a thought. He was too busy being scared. Being pissed. And rushing her the hell back to his car.

  He got her inside the vehicle and the interior light shone down on them. He hissed out a hard breath when he saw the damage. Her shirt was soaked in blood. She’d been hit not once, but twice.

  And one of those hits…

  Too close to her heart.

  “How are you even alive right now?” He started to back away so he could run around to the driver’s side of the car.

  But her hand flew out and wrapped around his wrist. “A doctor can’t…help me…” He saw her fangs peeking from behind her plump lips. “I need…blood…have to get…blood.”

  She’s a vampire. I’ve seen the fangs. I’ve seen the super-speed. And she is still alive when she’s got a fatal wound.

  She’d saved his ass.

  So now, he’d save her.

  He knelt near the open car door. He pulled her to the edge of the seat, turning her body to face him. Mick wrapped his arms around her and tilted his head. “Can’t believe this shit, but I’m actually asking…bite me. Do it, Savannah, just—”

  She bit him. And white-hot pleasure rolled through his whole body.

  Chapter Three

  “Are you…all right now?”

  Savannah couldn’t help but smile at Mick’s halting question. “I’m wonderful, thanks.” His blood was just as powerful as she’d suspected it would be. Absolutely delicious and totally just what she needed. Her wounds had closed. Her body had healed in record time, and now, if she could just ditch the blood-stained top she wore, Savannah figured she’d be back in business.

  Mick drove for a few miles, then said, “It didn’t hurt.” He took a right turn and appeared to stay focused on the road.

  “Of course, it didn’t hurt.” Now that was just insulting. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. I just needed a little blood to survive.”

  His hand lifted and pressed to his throat. She�
�d licked the tiny wounds there when she’d been done, and he’d let out a guttural groan. As close as their bodies had been, she hadn’t been able to miss his physical response to her.

  Her detective had gotten very hard.

  From her bite.

  From…her?

  “If you need more,” he said, “let me know.”

  I need everything. They’d get to that part, later. Right then, she was rather impressed with the progress of her plan. Things were moving along just perfectly. Unless she missed her guess, Mick was even starting to trust her.

  Only fair, really, since she’d taken a bullet—two—for the guy.

  He took another turn and then a tall, looming, white-bricked building appeared. She leaned forward, peering out of the windshield. There were cops near that building. Men and women in uniform who were walking in and out of the place.

  “I’m guessing you haven’t been to this station before,” Mick said.

  “I generally try to avoid cops.”

  He killed the engine. “We won’t be seeing the cops. The ME is on the bottom floor. You want to find out who killed those men? Then I say we take a peek at the bodies.”

  Her breath caught. “You can get us access to them?”

  “That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks.”

  He shoved open his door.

  Smiling, she hurried out of her side even as he started coming around the front of the car. She took a step forward, then stopped, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve got to ditch the bloody clothes.”

  “I…have an extra t-shirt in my trunk. Keep it there, for when I work out.”

  “Excellent.” It would probably swallow her, but she’d make do. Too big was way better than too bloody.

  While he headed to the trunk, she stripped off her shirt, used some of the cleanish material to try and wipe the blood away from her skin, then she tossed the ruined top into his back seat. It was a good thing he’d parked in the shadows, or some of his cop buddies—

  “You stripped.” His voice sounded strangled. “In front of a cop station.”

  “They can’t see me…”

  He was suddenly right in front of her, using his body as a shield and his eyes were seeming to drink her in.