by J. C. Wilder
“Hello?” Mariah waved her pencil in the air. “I’m not talking for my health here. Wake up.”
A yawn escaped before Shai could stop it. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“Body. Another woman, same MO as the others.” Mariah snatched a chocolate drop from Shai’s snack jar then popped it into her mouth. “She was found behind the old Garden Theater, you know, the one under renovation. This just came across the fax not five minutes ago.”
“Sounds like the place to be.” She yawned again, reaching for her ever-present notepad and tape recorder.
Mariah helped herself to another candy. “I knew you’d say that.” She slipped off the desk and headed for the exit. Pausing in the doorway, she turned back. “I’m curious, though. Why are you taking such a personal interest in these murders? Brett Springer is writing them for the paper and murder isn’t usually your beat.”
Shai pushed herself out of her chair and stifled a groan. “Everyone has to have a hobby,” she said dryly. She pulled the tissue off her finger to inspect her wound. The bleeding had stopped, leaving a tiny red scratch. She dropped the tissue in the trash.
“Maybe you need to get out more.”
No, I got out too much last night.
She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as fake at it felt. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am. That’s why I make the big bucks.” Laughing at her own joke, Mariah vanished out the door.
Shai stuffed the tools of her trade into her large handbag and tried to gather her strength for the coming ordeal. To think, ten more minutes and she would have escaped for the evening. Home to her quiet apartment. Home to a good book, some canned soup and a good night’s sleep.
Boy, she had rotten luck.
* * * * *
The cab ride to the old theater was quick. The streets of New York City were relatively quiet at 2:30 a.m. and the traffic was light. A large crowd was gathered at the end of the alley behind the theater when Shai’s cab pulled up to the curb.
The muggy August air smacked her in the face when she opened the door. She’d lived in New York for most of her life, but tonight the scents in the air were alien. The aroma of rotting garbage, too many people, of human waste, and dirt. As a final insult the underlying scent of fear and violent death lingered in the thick air.
Not again.
“Hey lady, youse gonna shut da door or just stand aroun’ all night?”
The cab driver’s strident voice interrupted her musing. “Oh, sorry.” She shoved a five-dollar bill into his hand then slammed the door.
“Youse wants me to wait?”
“No, no thank you.”
He gave an abrupt nod and sped away from the curb, leaving her in a cloud of exhaust, fervently wishing she’d gone with him.
No guts, no glory.
Shouldering her bag, she turned to scan the crowd, trying to ignore the churning in her gut. Why would people stand in a desolate street in the middle of the night at a murder scene? What drove someone to do that? Didn’t they realize that someone had died violently and it wasn’t a joke? This wasn’t television where bang, the bad guy was dead and the moment the cameras were off he’d jump up with a laugh and accept congratulations from his fellow actors. It was real life and it was painful and ugly.
Relief washed over her when she spied a familiar face in the crowd.
Detective J.B. Henry stood just beyond the bright yellow police line jotting notes in a battered black notebook. Henry and Shai had first met when he’d arrested her for stealing food. She’d been eight years old and slowly starving to death on the streets of New York. He’d taken her to Children’s Services and they’d found her a family to take her in and saw to it she received a good education. If it weren’t for him, Shai was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been alive today.
After she’d graduated from SUNY with a degree in journalism, her first job had been writing the Police Beat section of the Village Investigator newspaper. She’d always made sure to mention the cases he worked on even if they were insignificant. Keeping him in the public eye had helped him to move up the ranks of the NYPD quickly and in return, he could always be counted on for accurate information and an exclusive.
Shai shoved her thick hair back off her sticky forehead then squared her shoulders for the oncoming ordeal. She clipped her plastic PRESS badge onto the collar of her cotton blouse as she slipped along the edge of the crowd. She ducked under the tape while several harried patrol officers fended off curious onlookers. One opened his mouth to shout a reprimand and stopped when he recognized her. Shai gave Officer Martinez a nod then sauntered up to Detective Henry.
“Lots of looky-loos for this early in the morning.”
Reminding Shai of Albert Einstein with his wild hair and droopy mustache, Henry looked up, a scowl on his round face when he spotted her. “What are you doing here, girl? You know better than to cross the police line.”
She shrugged and couldn’t help but grin. “You know me, Henry, just like a bad penny. One never knows where I might turn up.”
“Boy, isn’t that the truth.” His cop eyes took in her rumpled tan slacks and white cotton blouse. “Long hours again?”
“When aren’t they? I went out to dinner with friends last night. It turned into a late evening.” Several feet away a sheet-draped figure lay on the ground while several feet away stood a knot of cigarette-smoking detectives. She nodded toward the victim. “And now this.”
“What’s his name?”
Confused, she looked at him. “Whose name?”
“The fella…”
“What fellow?”
“The one you went out with last night?”
“Now, who said it was a man?” she asked, exasperated. First her friends, now Henry. Did everyone think she needed a date?
“I can only hope,” he grumbled.
“Keep trying, Henry.” She smothered a grin and waved a hand toward the body on the ground. “What’s the story?”
“Shai,” he said sternly.
She shook her head. “Just between you and me, Henry. I’m not writing this one.”
He gave her a doubtful look then shook his head as if to indicate she was crazy. “Same as the other three. Prostitute accompanies a john into an alley, nails him and then her throat gets ripped out.” Henry shrugged. “Nothing new with this one.”
“I heard from someone at the coroner’s office that there was no sign of semen with the other three. No sign of latex residue either,” she mused, hoping he’d add more information.
“It is a puzzling one, all right. One would think that girls like them would use condoms, for heaven’s sake. However, this one isn’t like the others.” Henry started walking toward the corpse, leaving Shai to follow.
“What’s different?”
“She’s not your average good-time girl. She’s an expensive piece from an escort service.”
“You have to be kidding.” Shai dogged his steps. “Why would an expensive woman take care of business in an alley in the middle of the night?”
“That’s the question of the hour.” Henry shook his head. “What is this world coming to?” He nodded at the group of detectives.
“No good, that’s for certain.” She was disappointed that he didn’t add more to her statement, but she didn’t let that deter her. Henry could be a fount of knowledge when properly persuaded.
Stopping about ten feet back, she tried to brace herself to look death straight in the face. It was never pretty, and she had an inkling that this one would be worse than most. So far, all of the victims had been young and beautiful and this one would probably be the same.
Henry motioned to a young, uniformed officer to pull back the bloodstained sheet. “She was a looker, all right,” he commented.
Shai caught her breath and struggled to control her rebelling stomach while keeping her expression impassive.
In a brief glimpse, she noted the wild mane of expertly dyed red hair tumbled across th
e victim’s shoulders, and her skin was the color of death. Dull, emerald-green eyes stared at the black sky, horror frozen in their depths. The woman’s red evening gown was obviously expensive and it had been torn to shreds. The skirt was hiked to her waist to reveal a black garter belt and drop-dead gorgeous legs. Her gaze flew up to the victim’s face and her stomach rolled before she looked away.
The woman’s head had almost been torn off.
“Pity, isn’t it? Why such a beautiful woman would turn to whoring is beyond me.” Henry reached inside his jacket for a cigarette. A faint tremor marred his movements.
“Who knows what motivates people to do anything? Maybe she was desperate for cash, maybe she had no other choice,” Shai mumbled more to herself than in response to his words. Those dull green eyes would haunt her until the killer was caught. She shook herself. There was nothing she could do about it, though. Not yet, anyway. All she could do was continue to gather facts and file them away for future reference.
“Who knows why people do what they do?” Shai repeated, suddenly weary to the bone. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible so she forced herself to look back at the corpse. Trying to remain objective, she viewed the victim’s nearly nude body as impersonally as possible.
Outwardly, she didn’t see anything different from the other three victims found in various locations in the past two weeks. Beautiful, prostitute, dark brown or red hair, well-dressed, had sex before dying, was left to die in an undignified position in a very public place.
She motioned to the uniformed officer to replace the sheet. “One would assume that, with a wound this large, there’d be more blood than this.”
Henry nodded. “Another one of the mysteries in this case.”
“You’ll let me have a copy of the coroner’s report?” Shai asked him, walking toward the entrance to the alley.
He fell in step beside her. “Sure thing. You’ve taken a mighty big interest in these killings. Why?”
She glanced at the slice of star-speckled sky visible between the buildings. “Maybe I’m tired of seeing this happen day in and day out.”
Dozens of images crowded her mind, slain women, brutalized bodies and damaged children. Like that of her mother, dead at twenty-seven years old. Murdered after turning a trick in their ramshackle apartment in Harlem. Several years later, the building had burned to the ground under mysterious circumstances and she’d secretly been glad. To her that building had represented everything vile, evil in this world and now it was gone though her memories lingered.
“You and me both,” Henry said in a sad voice. He held up the police tape while Shai escaped under it. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks.” She walked to the edge of the curb to hail a cab that was cruising down the street toward her. A prickling at the nape of her neck caused her to pause, her hand half-raised.
Someone was watching her.
She scanned the crowd and the open windows in the buildings surrounding them before turning to see a man across the street. He was little more than a shadow against the brownstone building. A shiver rippled over her skin as he smiled, his teeth flashing white against the darkness.
She knew him…didn’t she?
The arrival of the coroner’s wagon interrupted her thought. The vehicle rumbled down the street, its damaged muffler shattering the early morning stillness. It rumbled past, shielding the man for a few seconds as it pulled to the curb next to her. The engine was cut and the sudden silence was eerie, pregnant with tension. It felt as if something awaited her in the darkness, untouched by the scant lighting from the streetlights. She shivered.
Stepping around the van she noticed the stranger was gone. She frowned. Had she imagined him? Maybe her tired eyes were playing tricks on her? She was truly exhausted and it was past time to head home and get some sleep.
Shai had seen him. The vampire watched the redheaded journalist ride away in her cab. She was a wily one and he was enjoying the chase. Nothing got his blood going like the anticipation of an intelligent adversary, but this one was special. He’d been waiting for her for many years and now she was ripe for the taking. She’d grown up to be so very beautiful and he wanted her more than anyone ever before. She was to be his greatest achievement, his perfect conquest, the lover of a lifetime. He relished the familiar stirring in his loins.
He wanted her beneath him, hot and panting, crying out for him. He would have her, too, when he tired of the chase. It was rare that a mortal woman managed to capture his attention, but Shai Jordan was unique and he didn’t want to spoil the game by ending it too soon.
He sighed in anticipation. The things they would do together… What fun they’d have, he could hardly wait to claim his woman.
But first, he had to locate Gabrielle, the woman who was going to assist him in toppling the Council of Elders.
Chapter Four
He came to her that night.
Shai went from a deep, dreamless sleep into full wakefulness within seconds. Blinking, she looked over at the clock next to her bed and groaned. It was only four a.m., for heaven’s sake! No one in his or her right mind should be awake at that time.
She glanced around her small bedroom, her gaze bleary, wondering what had awakened her. A soft golden glow caught her gaze and her eyes widened when she realized there were candles burning in her various holders scattered about the bedroom. She frowned. She certainly hadn’t lit them before going to bed and even if she had, she’d have blown them out before her head hit the pillow. What the devil was going on?
Sitting up, her breath caught in her throat as a sultry finger of breeze parted her curtains and she caught sight of a male figure crouched on the fire escape outside her bedroom window. Her heart gave a shudder and she drew in breath to scream when he leaned into the flickering golden light.
In an instant, she knew it was him, the man from the restaurant.
Val.
“Invite me in,” he ordered.
Pleasure curled her toes when his low voice sounded in the night. A ripple of anticipation skittered down her spine. Her mind screamed, “Is he crazy?” even as her body longed to invite him in.
Her lips parted to order him away from her window and she was stunned as the exact opposite thought escaped from her mouth.
“You’re welcome here.”
He stretched one long leg through the open window and climbed into her bedroom, his booted feet scattering the throw pillows on her window seat. His movements were easy, graceful as he advanced to her bed, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
Her breathing deepened. This had to be a dream, of course. This couldn’t happen in real life, especially not hers. But what a lovely dream it was! He was much taller than she’d originally thought, well above her own five feet four. His shoulder-length black hair hung loose around his sharply chiseled features, and his rich blue eyes gleamed against the paleness of his skin.
His clothing was simple. Tight-fitting black jeans, a loose-flowing white shirt and black leather boots. A jeweled dagger was tucked into the black leather belt that encircled his waist. Shai thought he looked like a very sexy pirate.
“You know who I am?” His voice was deep and resonant, causing flames of awareness to lick her heightened senses. Her cotton sleep-shirt felt heavy and stifling against her skin. More than anything, she wanted this man to remove it from her overheated body.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded odd to her ears, slow, as if she were drugged.
“And you know what I want from you?”
Her throat dry, she could only nod in response.
A smile of pure male satisfaction curved his sensuous lips. He held out his hand. “Come with me, my love.”
She could no more stop herself from taking his hand than she could’ve stopped time from marching forward. Covered in thin leather gloves, his hand gripped her heated flesh in a strong, sure grip. Wicked thoughts of that brawny hand against other parts of her body, stroking, caressing, brought a rush of heat to her fa
ce.
Wow, what a vivid dream.
His brow arched and he smiled as if he could read her naughty thoughts. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it, flicking her skin with his tongue. “Tell me what you desire,” he murmured against her knuckles.
Raw lust hit her like a tidal wave, rendering her dizzy. She’d never felt anything quite like this before. My word, but those romance novels were right! She sucked in a noisy breath. She longed to lean into him and allow him frightful liberties, while her rational mind screamed for her to run away. This was a dream…wasn’t it? Surely it was…it just had to be. In real life handsome strangers wouldn’t just appear at her window demanding her submission…at least they never had before.
She bit her lip. What would it hurt to give in to her base instincts?
“You, I want you,” she whispered.
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and he pulled her to her feet. Keeping hold of her hand, he turned and led her into the tiny dining room. With a swipe of his powerful arm, he cleared the table. An overripe peach hit the floor with a dull splat as he reached for a fat pillar candle located in a wall sconce. He set the candle on the table and lit it with a lighter he produced from his pocket. She barely had time to appreciate the golden glow when he swept her up and deposited her on the edge of the table.
Spreading her thighs, he moved between her legs. The ridge of his erection pressed against her cotton panties and the delicate folds hidden beneath.
Startled, she whimpered and tried to push him away, to close her legs against his invasion. “I don’t want—” She stopped, confused.
“This is your fantasy,” he whispered. “This is what you asked for. A dark lover seducing you, forcing you to yield to your body’s demands. Taking you to heights you’ve never dared before.”