Brenda let loose a scream that curdled Emily's blood.
Emily hoisted the bat up. “Come get me, Dirt Bag.”
Pete turned with a grin on his stubble covered face. “What do you think you’re gonna do with that?”
“Come find out.”
Pete’s smile wavered. Emily sidestepped the hand that grabbed at her and swung the bat. The aluminum made contact with his shoulder. She darted to his left and swung it against his ribs.
He continued to snatch at her. This time, it connected with the side of his head. The vampire stumbled and crashed onto one knee. He cradled his head and glared up at her. Blood ran from his sliced lip, and fat drops of saliva dribbled from his goatee. He spit and showered the floor with a scarlet mist.
“Had enough yet?” Emily edged a little closer and gripped the bat with sweaty palms.
He snarled to reveal stained teeth and a missing left fang. “You’re gonna die for that, bitch.”
She struck him again before he could get up. His head whipped to the side, and he howled in pain. She hit him once more for good measure. This time, his skull dented and blood sprayed across the edge of the bedspread. His jaw fell open, and he dropped to the floor. His left leg twitched, but he did not rise.
“What’s taking so long?” Trent called.
Brenda’s screams had died away. Emily ventured into the hallway, still clutching the bat. The shirtless man was no longer against the wall.
She pushed Brenda’s door open with the end of the bat. Her horrified eyes refused to make sense of what lay on the bed. Blood glistened on Brenda’s exposed body. Blood pooled around her and her ravaged throat.
Emily moved toward the bed. The bat dragged across the carpet and made a hollow, tinny noise. “Please don’t be dead.”
“They’re no fun if they’re helpless like that. It’s exhilarating when they kick and scream or plead for their life.”
She whipped around to find Trent leaned against the wall. A cigarette clamped between his thin lips. The front of his shirt and chin were stained crimson.
“I see you’ve been busy.” He tipped his head toward the bloodied bat. There was no remorse in his voice for his fallen companion. “Killing feels good, doesn't it? It gives you a sense of supremacy, of freedom. It’s a fucking rush.”
Emily’s gaze flicked toward the hall. Brenda’s lover looked disoriented and weak, but she nearly cried out in joy as he stumbled past. A cell phone pressed against his ear.
“I saw what you did to Pete.” Trent’s eerie smile gave her the willies. “You gonna beat my head in too? Do you think you can?”
He stepped away from the doorway and a jolt of fear and despair tore through her. She wanted to lunge at him, pulverize his face with the bat, but she had to be intelligent about this. She didn’t know why Pete had been so easy to defeat, but she wasn’t taking any chances this time.
“The witch wants me to bring you to her. Be a good little girl and come along, so I don’t have to hurt you too much.” A malevolent expression twisted his face. “It’ll be my turn when Starr’s done with you. I can’t wait to finish what we started the other night.”
The vampire lunged to the left. She fell for his trick, swung the bat, and left herself open. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed. The weapon fell from her hand and rolled toward the foot of the bed.
Emily kicked at him and used her free hand to scratch his face.
“Stupid bitch!” Trent shoved her away.
She landed on the bed and fell across Brenda. Cooled blood soaked the back of her shirt.
The vampire advanced, and she was unable to get to her feet. He reached for her, a determined grimace on his face. She let loose a war cry and kicked him in the gut.
“Bitch!” He caught her leg in his iron grip. She was dragged off the bed and across the floor for several feet.
Marcus suddenly appeared in the doorway. Trent’s eyes widened, and his mouth formed a surprised circle. He dropped Emily’s leg, whirled and threw a punch.
Marcus sidestepped it with ease.
Emily grabbed the bat and got to her feet. She raised it high, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Trent lost interest in her and focused on Marcus instead. “You’ve been following me again?”
“The witch isn’t here to protect you.”
“I can handle you on my own.” Trent bared his fangs.
The bat wavered, but Emily didn’t lower it. She eased toward the door.
Marcus grabbed Trent by the back of the shirt and threw him against the wall. Trent curled his body and rolled. He didn’t gain much ground.
Marcus grasped his collar and yanked him upward. Trent managed to squirm away, his fist slammed into Marcus's knee and caused him to stumble. Trent sprang to his feet. Emily swung the bat, missing by mere inches.
Trent bolted past, palmed her face and shoved her into the wall. Her head struck hard enough to crack the plaster. Dark spots floated across Emily’s vision, and the room spun. Marcus hurried after him.
To run in the opposite direction would be the smartest thing, but she staggered behind them instead. The sound of breaking glass quickened her step.
By the time she crossed the hall, only one vampire was in her room. He was leaning out the window, searching the darkness. Emily swung the bat while his attention was on the window. The aluminum connected with the creature’s forearm with an audible crack.
It was Marcus who turned from the shattered window. His eyes squinted with pain, and he cradled his injured arm. “What the hell?”
Relief coursed through her, followed closely by regret. Shit, she’d hurt him. She wanted to run to him, hold him close and soothe his pain. Instead, she hoisted the bat up. “Everyone keeps warning me about you. Should I be afraid?”
“Have I given you a reason to fear me?” He stepped closer.
She tipped her head back to stare up at him. Caution mingled with awareness. “All this good guy stuff could be a trick.”
“I don't want to hurt you.” God, the way he said that…was he trying to seduce her?
The vampire reached a hand toward her. For just a moment, she almost allowed him to cup her cheek, but she came to her senses and stepped back. “You can’t just show up, act all cloak and dagger, and expect me to play along.”
Marcus narrowed his gaze. He’d already taken the bat from her, and she hadn’t even noticed. He tossed the crushed weapon onto the bed. “Then I should make my intentions clear.”
He pulled her against him, and her body melted into his. So much for running in the other direction. She tilted her head back to stare up at him through lowered lashes. “So what are your intentions exactly?”
Marcus claimed her mouth, tasting her deeply and thoroughly.
One of his hands skimmed beneath her shirt to touch her ribs. Fingers tickled upward to touch her through the lace of her bra.
Heat rocketed through her, sending a zing of awareness between her legs. Her body throbbed, and her nerves tingled. If just a kiss or touch could make her feel this way, she was in deep trouble.
His lips traced the curve of her ear. “You smell good enough to eat.”
Emily stroked fingertips across his cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. She nuzzled the hollow of his shoulder and breathed his scent in. He smelled delicious, a mixture of soap and his natural male scent. The bed was just a few steps behind them.
Then she remembered poor Brenda who was probably dead in her bedroom. Emily choked on a sob and buried her face against his chest.
His hand cupped the back of her head and stroked through her hair. “What have you done to me?”
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“You’ve gotten under my skin.” His embrace tightened, but not painfully.
Pete chose that moment to push up onto hands and knees. He reached out and grasped her ankle. His swollen face twisted and pleaded for mercy. Emily screamed.
Marcus kicked the man’s arm away. Pete curle
d into a fetal position and moaned.
Emily scrambled away from them. Things were getting out of hand. Beau’s warnings about Marcus sprang to mind again. She was confident she’d not only felt his lips, but fangs at her throat a moment ago. He moved toward her, pupils tiny pinpricks in an ocean of stormy blue.
“Come with me, Emily.” Again his voice took on the lull of enchantment. He held out his hand. “You’re safe with me.”
Emily wanted to return to his embrace. Instead, she backed away.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
The wail of police sirens drew closer. Brenda’s new man had managed to call for help before he'd perished from his wounds.
Marcus scowled, and she could feel the anger radiating off him in waves. Is this what he was actually like? Anger and violence?
“You’d better go before they get here.”
He cupped her cheek with a cool palm and his thumb brushed away a smear of blood. “I'll be back for you.”
He hauled Pete up by the collar then moved down the hall, half dragging the moaning dirt bag.
Marcus hid just behind the line of trees and dug the heel of his boot into the back of Pete’s neck. He wasn’t going anywhere until he found out what the hell was going on. Things just didn’t mesh.
“Tell me about the girl,” he growled. “What is she?”
Pete twisted his head to spit dirt and blood. “Go to hell.”
He ground his boot heel against Pete's head until the vampire whimpered. “Okay, okay! We don’t know what she is either. Starr wants to learn how to use the gift herself. If the girl doesn’t cooperate, Starr will probably just enslave her.”
Marcus gazed at the house. If only the police hadn't shown when they did…
Pete’s laughter was muffled against the ground. Dirt swirled in miniature whirlwinds with his every breath. “We’re gonna get Isabella and there’s nothing you can do about it. We’re not afraid of you and your enforcers anymore. The witch is more powerful than you can imagine. You’ve got no hope of winning this. The only way you’ll live through this is if you help Starr bring an end to Isabella's rule.”
Marcus silenced him with another kick when he noticed movement outside the house. Emily came outside to sit on the porch.
After what seemed like forever, a detective came outside and sat next to her. Emily took the offered blanket and watched the ambulance pull away with her friend and the dead man. Dark uniforms milled around the yard and inside the house.
“So here we are again.” The detective positioned her elbows on the steps and leaned back to gaze up at the night sky. “What happened, Emily?”
“They came back for me.” She glanced in the direction of the trees.
Marcus toyed with the idea of stepping out just enough for her to see him, but mashed the urge. It would be stupid to play around like that, especially since daylight crept closer with each passing moment.
Pete hadn’t made a noise for several minutes. Perhaps he’d lost consciousness again.
“The John Doe?” The detective sat up and stared at her.
Emily wrapped arms around her legs and rested her head on her knees. Hair fell around her shoulders and obscured her face. In the porch light, the dark red hair looked black.
She gave a condensed summation of what happened. Finally, she pointed toward the trees. “He disappeared over there.”
“Great,” Marcus muttered to himself. He should move along. Emily had given him enough new information to chew on, but he hungered for more. He crouched down, using his captive to support his weight. What had Emily called Pete, Dirt Bag? It was a fair appraisal. He’d always deemed bathing as optional.
“I’ll send some men into the woods to check things out.” Hahm motioned a few of the uniformed men over. She barked orders and they scattered.
Marcus gripped Pete by the arm. They’d have to move now. He couldn’t risk being found and questioned this close to dawn.
Jumping straight up, he landed in the tree’s uppermost branches. Marcus stuffed the still unconscious Pete against a crook in the branch and trunk.
Hahm plucked a flower from the honeysuckle vine twined around the railing. She shredded it while she spoke. “So, Emily, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot the other night. Maybe we can make a deal? I give you some info and you decide if it’s worth giving some in return.”
The redhead nodded in agreement.
“We're dealing with vampires.” Hahm tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ears. “At least, I think they're vampires. All of this is too organized for shifters.”
Marcus cursed. In their single-minded pursuit of Trent and the witch, his enforcers must have gotten sloppy and left themselves open to discovery. Or maybe this detective was a little sharper than most humans. Either way, Marcus didn't like it.
“I have a source that I trust and he claims they're real. It was hard to grasp at first, but I've seen some otherwise unexplainable things. It seems they stick to the shadows, hide what they are at all costs, but I think their careful safeguards have fallen away. They've been exposed, in a manner of speaking.”
Emily continued to stare out at the night. Could she sense his presence?
The detective gave her a moment to absorb the information before continuing. “I believe the vampires have a governing body, much like we do. My source is close to the city master. According to him, those who don't live right in the city are under the closest master's rule. Sometimes they have turf wars, but I don't think that's what's going on here.”
“Then what's going on?” Emily lifted her head and stared at the woman.
“You don't seem surprised. How long have you known about them?”
“Not long. I kind of just stumbled into it that night at the mortuary. Are you the only one?”
“If anyone else in the department knows, they're not advertising it. I try to catch the cases that seem a little iffy. Because of that, they throw all the crazy-ass ones my way. Sometimes it pans out, and I learn something new. Other times it's just another crazy of the human variety. Just when I think I've found something monumental, I suspect the enforcer types rush in and cover it up.” The detective pinched another flower. “Anyway, I may have tracked down where they were hiding the master. You've heard about that old mansion that burned to the ground a few weeks ago? I think that's where they were hiding out.”
Though it had healed, Marcus’s right arm had burned when he’d tried to rescue Jai Li’s twin. He’d gotten Wu out of the main building, but hadn’t been able to save him. He had burst into flames while in Marcus’s arms. He had to leave Wu smoldering on the garage floor and endure Jai Li’s anguished cries. After throwing an old tarp over the others, he drove them to the sanctuary. By the time they’d reached it, his face and hands were a burnt, crusty mess.
After several seconds of silence, Emily spoke. “So you think they were holed up in the mansion?”
“I do.” Hahm nodded with conviction. “We found some curious things at the site.”
“Like what?”
“We found charred remains. We can't identify them, and some of the bones appear to be at least a hundred years old. It could be the master of the city. I'd think he or she would have to be a relatively old vampire to gain that much power over the others. The lab claims the specimens must have been compromised. They can't make heads or tails of it.”
Marcus was glad the safeguards were in place to thwart this human's curiosity. The vampires had people inside the police department. A couple close shifter friends worked as lab geeks (or in their case, lab rats) to make sure nothing ever turned up that might point in the preternatural direction.
After a few moments of silence, Hahm shrugged. “Who knows, maybe their master is gone, and they’re running wild.”
Emily shook her head. “The master is safe.”
“I don't know. Until we're able to talk to someone, we have no clue.”
“What about your source?”
“I haven
't been able to reach him. David seemed a bit worried the last time we talked. He believed someone was following him, someone, who was more powerful than the vampires.” The detective sighed. “It gives me pause to think there's something like that out there.”
Marcus cursed beneath his breath. Why was David feeding this human information?
“Starr killed a vampire named David and made me read him.” Emily must have decided she could trust Detective Hahm because everything in its entirety followed.
Marcus had listened long enough. He tossed Pete to the ground and landed next to him. Sunrise was less than an hour away. Isabella would want to speak with Pete, and she'd want to know what the good detective had uncovered.
***
Marcus stood outside the interrogation room with Isabella. The questioning could be pleasant or pure hell. It depended on who was asking the questions. The detainee usually found trouble if Isabella was present. Not only did the enforcers beef up their methods, but sometimes Isabella even took part.
Tonight her dark eyes were massive and luminous, her smile dangerous. “Is it true? You’ve brought Peter home?”
Marcus frowned at her enthusiasm. “Yes, he just regained consciousness.”
Her narrowed eyes were the darkest he’d seen them in a while. “Have you brought Trent?”
Marcus shifted position and sighed, rubbing at his arm. It was healed now, but the memory of Emily catching him off guard stung. “No. He got away.”
“Again?” Her blood red nails slashed Marcus's cheek. His head snapped to the side, and pearls of crimson glistened on his skin. Isabella stamped her feet with frustration. “Why? Why does he keep slipping through your fingers?”
Once again, he went through the night’s exploits.
“You did not bring the girl either?” Her hand slashed the air between them, but he caught it. Isabella’s upper lip curled as she glared at his fingers wrapped around her slender wrist. “You will take your hands off me.”
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