The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series)

by Luedke, Travis

  That was precisely what Bresnik wanted to hear. The man’s eyes displayed all the things he contemplated doing with Michelle de Mornac’s money. These people were some kind of wicked. In all Mike’s time in the military, a tour in Iraq, then his years as a private investigator, he had never encountered anything quite like the Albanian mafia. Terrorists, drug cartel, trafficking in sexual slavery: nothing was sacred with these people.

  “I’ll have Nicky call ya. From there it’s on you. You’re the investigator.”

  All Mike wanted at that moment was to investigate where to hide Bresnik’s corpse after he tore his flesh to pieces and drained him of every last drop of blood. Mike shook it off, nodded, and walked away before he killed the fool.

  He needed to see Laura immediately to take the edge off this damned unmanageable thirst.

  * * * *

  Chapter 14

  Michelle slinked into Belgravia Police Station late afternoon, just after dark, hoping to catch the man in charge of the homicide case before he left for the day. Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned over the reception counter, blasting the officer behind the bullet-proof security glass with a full measure of her cleavage. He looked down at her flesh on display and then looked up into her mesmerizing eyes.

  “Monsieur, would you help me find Detective Sergeant Billings? Is very important.”

  “I’ll check if he’s here.” The officer could barely tear his gaze away from her to look at the clock. “He normally works late. You might be in luck.”

  He grinned at her, unblinking, enraptured. She slipped on her rose-colored glasses to break the spell. He shook himself and smiled sheepishly, then picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Hello, sir, there’s a … excuse me, what’d you say your name was?”

  “Michelle.”

  “Ah, there’s a woman named Michelle here to see you. And it’s urgent.” He winked at her. His aura glowed with an earnest desire to please.

  Men were so predictable. Flash a little skin, a genuine smile, direct eye contact, and they all scrambled to meet her needs. Unfortunately, she was difficult to please, and far more difficult to live with, if they survived at all.

  “Well, sir, she’s here to see you.”

  Michelle’s acute hearing picked up the grumpy voice of the reluctant man on the other end of the call. “I don’t care if she’s here for the bloody prime minister, I still don’t know who she is or what she wants!”

  Blushing in embarrassment, the officer whispered low into the phone. “David Cameron himself wouldn’t turn this one away. You’d best come down.”

  “Bloody hell.” A slamming click indicated the Detective Sergeant had hung up.

  The officer grinned again, pretending he hadn’t just been snubbed. “Yes sir, she’ll be here waiting.” He calmly replaced the phone on the receiver base, trying to hide the red flush of his humiliation.

  Michelle pressed her chest forward another inch, exposing even more cleavage, and whispered sweetly. “Merci beaucoup.”

  He had earned his reward, a flash of white breast and a hint of pinkish-brown nipple.

  He wanted more from her, more of her time, attention, her breasts. His desires permeated his aura, lust written all over his face. Lucky for him she did not indulge his hopes.

  Men did not fare well with her prolonged attentions.

  A moment later, a security door to the side buzzed open. A large overweight man entered the reception area and walked straight for her. He had an acne-scarred bulbous nose and a comb-over that didn’t quite hide his massive bald spot.

  Not a pretty man, not at all.

  Michelle knew his type. This was the kind of man who readily paid her escort service fees of one thousand an hour, two hour minimum. He walked right up to her, and his stern look took in her measure.

  She turned her back on the officer at the counter to focus on her target. “Bonjour. Detective Sergeant Billings?” She removed her rose-tinted shades and gave him the full force of her gaze.

  Gradually the Detective Sergeant’s icy demeanor thawed. His frown turned upwards into a grin. “Michelle, is it?”

  She smiled brightly and stepped in close. “Oui. I am so glad you are available. I need your help.”

  His eyes dropped to her slender figure and then back up to her eyes. “What can I do for you?”

  She looked around, eyed the desk officer nearby, and then leaned in close. “It’s a very private matter. Can we talk somewhere?”

  He looked as if he might balk, but then her eyes snared him, and she knew she owned his ass. “Certainly, right this way ma’am.” He led her down a hallway appraising her ultra-short miniskirt with a wry grin. They stopped at the elevator. Billings pressed the call button, and looked around. There was no one around.

  He returned his attention to her miniskirt. “Don’t have anything dangerous in there do you?” His eyes twinkled with the cheap line.

  “Would you like to see for yourself?” Michelle slipped off her long coat to reveal a scant, second-skin black outfit. She twirled and bent over slightly to show him a glimpse of the bottom edge of her ass peeking below her hemline. Looking over her shoulder, she ran her fingers down her bare arms and winked at him. “Nothing up my sleeves, I promise.”

  He stared without blinking, dazed, and then shook his head. “I believe you, Miss, but I should check.” He tried to sound apologetic, but his hungry eyes betrayed the sordid truth.

  She held up her arms in surrender. “If you must.”

  He brushed his hands over her curves, not missing one centimeter of her breasts. His questing fingers slid all the way down the outside of her hips and stopped. Red-faced, he looked at her. “Do you mind?”

  She spread her legs wide and winked.

  He gulped audibly, glanced around once more, and then gave her inner thighs an exceedingly thorough examination. His fingers came away glistening wet as he grinned nervously. She hadn’t bothered to wear panties for this mission.

  The elevator pinged and Billings jumped. Michelle adjusted her skirt before the doors parted. There was no one inside. She heard a soft sigh. She thought Billings might almost pass out with relief.

  Grinning like an idiot, an obvious lump in his pants, his hand lingered at her elbow as he steered her into the elevator. As the doors closed and the elevator rose, she watched his aura swirl with his dual desires. He wanted to help her, but he also wanted to fuck her right there in the elevator. Lust was the dominant color by far.

  “I would love to help you, Miss, if I can.”

  She reached down to slide her fingers over the tip of the tent pole at the crotch of his pants and watched him shudder with her touch. The only help he wanted to give was to help his cock slide between her butt cheeks.

  She licked her lips suggestively. “A dear friend has died. I think you can help me, I must know how it happened.”

  She held the Detective Sergeant rapt in her gaze, seduced beyond reason, then the door chime broke the spell. He looked down the empty hallway and back at her. “I’m not sure I can be of assistance. These kinds of investigations are not public.” He was frowning again.

  She glanced down the hallway and noted the Detective Sergeant’s office three doors down, and no windows. Perfect. She stepped up close, her left hand trailing down his arm with a feather-light stroke as her right hand learned the contours of his cock through the light fabric of his slacks. She unloaded her emerald doe eyes on him with a direct stare. “Monsieur, give me a few minutes in your office. I am sure you will help me once you understand.” She pinched the head of his cock slightly and watched his eyes dilate with need.

  She knew she had dialed him up to the very edge, the point of no return. He stepped in closer and slipped his hand up between her legs, his meaty finger digging inside her moist folds. “Might take a little longer than a few minutes.”

  His arm curled around her in a protective embrace as he slid deeper into her pussy, teasing with a slow glide. His fingers shook with the intensity of his nee
d. It had been a very long time since Billings had known a woman. She would have to fulfill that need to get what she wanted.

  Few things in life came free.

  She pulled away from him, sliding his hand out from between her legs, and pulled him down the hallway. Billings followed without resistance. He unlocked his office door and held it open for her. “Let’s see what you’ve got. There might be something I can do for you after all.”

  * * * *

  Chapter 15

  “Fifty pounds says he’s shagging her right now.” Katya winked at Aaron in teasing. Michelle had been gone over two hours. Sitting in their crap-hole apartment, waiting, Ivan and Katya had already finished off one bottle of vodka between the two of them.

  “Feeling left out?” Aaron winked back. He loved seeing Katya blush.

  She scoffed and Ivan snickered. Ivan stood and headed for the door, jacket in hand. “I’m going for more vodka.”

  Katya looked at him funny then looked at Aaron and back to Ivan. “Get me something to eat, would you. One of those microwave pizzas.”

  Ivan grinned. “Sure.” And he was gone.

  If he didn’t know better, Aaron would think Ivan had left him alone with Katya on purpose. He recalled their first meeting, just over a week ago, and how Katya would have sunk her nails into his face with glee.

  Quite a different scenario now.

  She watched him. He watched her watching him. For the hundredth time, he wished he could get into her head. Something about her was a constant draw. He felt compelled to learn what made Katya tick.

  “So, I’ve been wondering, what is a Russian werewolf doing in London? And why do you speak like the British, but Ivan doesn’t?”

  “I’ve lived in London a long time. I like it here. Ivan stays here once in a while, but he prefers Mother Russia – likes to stick with the pack. There were many years Ivan couldn’t even leave the country. These days we get together and travel quite often. We are hunters and problem solvers.”

  Aaron recalled Urvashi’s mention of some of their travels. “Like Afghanistan, Iraq, and Kosovo?” Aaron imagined them solving problems, and what that probably involved. Uzi’s made for quick solutions.

  “Something like that.”

  The more Katya opened up, the more he liked her. He saw her as similar to him and Michelle, oddities in the world who lived apart from everyone else. They shared a necessary detachment from mankind.

  Katya flicked her nose up at him. “What’s your story? How’d you end up here, with the Frenchy and Urvashi?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She held out her hands. “Isn’t it always?”

  “Yes, more so each day.”

  She stared right at him, almost looking through him, her light blue gaze assessing him. “You haven’t been at it very long, eh? What, a couple years? How long you have been sucking blood?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. She seemed to make him laugh more and more every night. “Try three months.”

  “Bloody hell. Ya gotta be shitting me. You been doing this three months, and already balls deep in Urvashi with a leech grabbing you like there’s no tomorrow. Watcha got? The world’s largest cock?”

  She had him laughing hard now. And he had no answers. Aaron had often wondered how he ended up in this place, this mess.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Michelle and I met under difficult circumstances. A couple of dirty cops were shaking her down, I tried to play hero and ended up shot. She saved my life by giving me her blood.”

  “Saved? Is that what you call it?”

  “Well, I’m still here. Then we went to Vegas where things really got out of hand.”

  “Bloody Las Vegas. Had a boatload of fun there, did ya?”

  Memories surfaced and raked over the painful scars of his loss. “Yes, but it got ugly. The Cartel killed my wife.”

  “You were married? You can’t be more than twenty!”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. There’s no way to explain what Anastasia and I shared. But she was my wife, if only for a few hours. And now she’s gone.”

  He tried not to let that well-spring of pain surface. Not here, not with this callous woman. But damn it, she looked just like Ana. If she grew her hair out, maybe dressed a little nicer, gained a few pounds, a little less of that hard athletic edge, she could almost pass for Anastasia.

  “Nothing to explain.” Katya snorted. “No one survives long with your kind. Bloody leeches take everything. You’re too young and dumb to have learned, but you will.” She had that look again, like Aaron was the sum of all evil in the world.

  “No, you’re right. I am only twenty-two.” He brought his eyes to bear on her gaze full of malice. “So, how old are you Grandma? Must be at least eighty, ninety? You lived through WWII.” He sunk the jab in deep with a smirk.

  From leaning back in her chair, she came at him instantly, right up in his face. “Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a girl her age?” Her hands balled up into fists. He caught a whisper of her ferocity leaking past the block on her thoughts, and her aura had turned black-red.

  “Must be my youth showing again. We can’t all be wise old wolves.” He smiled, waiting for her move.

  She almost clipped him with a solid right hook, but he dodged. Matching her preternatural speed, he twisted away as she flowed past him. With a helping shove in her back, she headed straight for the wall, barely catching herself on her hands at the last second. Aaron was on her, pinning her breasts hard against the wall, her head pressed sideways, one eye glaring back at him.

  He nipped at her ear as she squirmed, trying to break free. “Maybe you’re getting a little slow in your old age.” He ground his hips in, pressing the heat of his hard crotch against the crack of her ass. He licked her neck, tempted to take a bite while he held the advantage.

  “Get off me, you bastard!” She screamed and growled like an animal, a deep, rumbling sound that carried an edge of hysteria. Her ice-blue Anastasia eyes showed a jumble of emotions and turmoil. Her aura streaked through with orange fear, black-red malice, and purple arousal. She smelled earthy, a hint of animal musk, mixed with some kind of perfumed body wash.

  “What was that word you used? Gamey? I bet you taste gamey.” He licked at her again. Her struggles and the food scent of fear ignited a powerful desire to take what he wanted. He could tear off her pants right now, fuck and bite her until she became his, permanently bonded to him, just like Anastasia.

  What would it be like to have a wolf of his own?

  He nuzzled his nose up against her neck, inhaling her wonderful yet alien scent. She squirmed harder, and he bore against her harder, pressing his hot erection deeper into the cleft of her ass.

  “Oh god, don’t bite me! Please don’t bite me!” She was crying.

  Puzzled, he stepped away from her. Why would she be crying? He hadn’t hurt her.

  She turned on him with a pistol drawn from somewhere in her jacket. “I’ll take all those pretty teeth right out of your face with a nine millimeter scalpel! You fucking tosser! Touch me again and I’ll kill you!”

  Why was she so angry? Ana liked it rough.

  “Ana, calm down.” Her eyes had started to change, lighter in color, a jaundiced yellow tint. Her jaw muscles clenched and twitched, moving. Her jaw seemed somehow … longer.

  She snarled and shook her head, her aim with the pistol wavered as she fought for self-control. “My name is not Ana!” She was growl-speaking, a deep baritone rumble that shouldn’t come from a woman’s mouth. This was not Ana, and she seemed to be losing control of … whatever.

  Aaron backed away from her slowly, his arms up in surrender. “Katya, I won’t touch you. I promise. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  She closed her eyes and panted heavily, in through her nose and out through her mouth. After a few seconds of steady breaths, the intensity level dropped a notch and she lowered her gun. “Just because we got on okay, don’t mean we’re getting it on.�
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  He watched her, making sure the gun stayed down and the colors of her aura stayed reasonable. “Tell me what you’re afraid of. What did you think I would do?”

  She slipped her gun into her inside jacket pocket. Her hands shook, betraying her anxiety. “I know what happens when you bite. I have seen what you can do to a woman. I don’t want what you’re selling.”

  This was very personal. Someone she knew had fallen prey to a vampire, had become a bloodslave. Someone she cared about.

  “It’s not going to happen with one little bite.”

  “And when you’re wrecking my ass, and your teeth are in my neck, who’s going to stop you?”

  “Me.”

  “Right. You damn near cornholed me just now. Ain’t no stopping once it’s started. Not till you’ve had your fill, and I’m a fucking drained mess, begging for more.”

  “I am not like that, and neither is Michelle.”

  “Right. We’ve seen what your little Frenchy is like. Watched her kill an entire regiment of Nazis in a minute. Painted in blood she was. Damn near bathing in it. And she had a man with her, an American soldier. He died for her.”

  “And after she killed your enemies, and took two bullets, you hunted her. How honorable is that? The four of you still couldn’t take her down.” He laughed, but he was not smiling.

  “She was completely crackers. If we hadn’t done something, who knows how many innocent people she would have killed.”

  “I can see how you might think that, but I know what she was doing.” He tapped his skull. “She shared it all with me, as if I was there. She hated the Nazis with such a passion. She lived in Paris during the occupation. If you saw what they did to people, the things she saw, the things she was powerless to stop, you would have killed them all with your bare hands.”

  “I don’t care. Just make sure you keep your war loving teeth and that Loch Ness monster away from me.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She’d done it again, made him smile.