Tempted by Blood

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Tempted by Blood Page 21

by Laurie London


  “You mean, like one of the programmers?”

  “Yeah, someone who has access to game content.”

  She went through the list of people in her head. “Well, the guy in charge of the play-testers, Tony, is probably the worst offender. One time he left his station and someone accessed his computer. They sent an email from him that went out to all employees saying that he liked to wear My Little Pony underpants. I remember being shocked that Xtark didn’t fire him, but he’s one of the best game designers and they evidently looked the other way.”

  Lily barked out a laugh. “Either that or he’s the guy who’s behind it all and doesn’t feel he has to follow the rules like the rest of the employees do.”

  Tony? A vampire? “Wow, I hadn’t thought of that.” On the surface, the guy seemed nice enough, but who was to say what was really under that smile? There could be fangs.

  A sudden thought hit her. If they were able to blend into human society and wipe memories, could someone have taken her blood before and she just didn’t remember it happening? She rubbed her neck, recalling how Jackson had taken hers. It had been so…amazing with him…sexy. But he’d told her it wasn’t always like that. The act of taking blood from a human host, instead of a vial, happened quickly and wasn’t often sexual in nature. Could someone at Xtark have done that to her? The thought made her queasy.

  But then, Tony seemed so…normal. She glanced around at the vampires surrounding her and she realized that they did, too. How many other vampires had she encountered on a day-to-day basis? They ate food, drove cars, had families, jobs. Although Jackson had told her that their population was just a fraction of the human population, it was possible that she’d seen or talked to other vampires before but just had no idea who they really were.

  “No. Wait,” she said. “He couldn’t be a vampire. While we do have a number of people who work at night, he’s one of the ones who comes in during the day.”

  “Unless he’s a changeling,” Jackson said. “They’re not as susceptible to UV light as born vampires.”

  “True,” said Cordell, flashing a knowing smile. “I can vouch for that. Sunlight does bother me, but it’s not nearly as debilitating as it is for these guys.”

  She’d started to pencil a diagram of Xtark’s office layout when the door to the computer lab opened. A black-haired man walked in carrying a large platter of food.

  “Thought you all might be hungry,” he said.

  Guardians wasted no time crowding around him like kids to the ice-cream man. Although she wouldn’t consider him small, maybe five-ten or five-eleven, the men dwarfed him. Was he human?

  “Xi, you’re the man.” Jackson grabbed a few sandwich halves. “How did you know I was starving?”

  “When are you not hungry?” The man went out into the hallway and returned a moment later with another tray.

  “Arianna, this is Xian, our office manager,” Jackson said. “He’s the one who holds everything together around here for Dom.”

  “I try,” Xian said. “Some days are easier than others.”

  “Like making peanut butter and honey sandwiches.” Jackson held up the one he’d just taken a bite from. “What could be easier than that?”

  Lily pointed with a piece of celery to Arianna’s diagram, refocusing them on the task at hand. “Are you sure this Tony fellow still leaves his station unattended? Maybe it was a one-time thing.”

  Arianna stood apart from the others, watching the men troll for food. Jackson had already inhaled one sandwich and was reaching for a frosted brownie. He met her glance, wordlessly asking if she wanted one. She shook her head. When she was nervous, she always had a hard time eating.

  She turned back to Lily. “From what I can recall, he rarely logs out when he’s still in the building. With the beta-testing going on for the next two weeks, chances are, at some point during that time he’ll leave his desk and won’t log out.”

  “Okay, that’s perfect.” Cordell wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Keep working on that diagram. Mitch, here’s what you’re going to need to do.”

  “Why Mitch?” Jackson growled. “I play Hollow Grave, too. I’m not comfortable sending Arianna in without me. No offense,” he said to his partner.

  “None taken.”

  Lily bit into her celery. “We need finesse, Jacks, not muscle.”

  His expression darkened and Arianna saw that a tiny muscle in his jaw was ticking. He drained his beer and spent an inordinately long time lining it up on the table with the other empties.

  Normally a fun-loving charmer with an easy laugh, Jackson seemed to withdraw just a little as he sat down. He didn’t check anyone’s reactions to see how others were receiving this, nor did he challenge Lily. Arianna got the distinct impression that he didn’t like being written off as a weapon without a brain. How many times had he been marginalized like this? Pigeonholed for only one purpose. It probably wasn’t the first time it had happened, otherwise he would’ve spoken up.

  Lily didn’t seem to notice. “Since that business last year when they were trying to find a tracker agent, both Kip and I are recognizable to them.” She listed off a few other Guardians who, for various reasons, couldn’t do it, either. “That only leaves Mitch.”

  Jackson’s knuckles went white on the armrest.

  “While I can understand your wanting to go in with her,” Dom said to Jackson, “given the number of DB kills you have under your belt, they probably know you. Your reputation could hinder your ability to operate undetected. Since Mitch is fairly new to the field office, even if there are other vampires around, they’ll just think he’s there to play the game. They won’t recognize him as an agent.”

  Maybe Dom had seen Jackson’s reaction as Arianna had. The Seattle field team leader was a good guy, she decided.

  Dom eased back in his chair and she noticed a coiled whip affixed to his hip. Did all of them have favorite weapons? She knew Jackson’s was that dragon blade with the curved handle. It looked ancient, the hilt burnished smooth. When she’d asked him about the weapon, he confirmed that it was centuries old, but that was all he said. She had a feeling there was more to the story.

  Lily’s was a butterfly blade that snapped open and closed with the flick of a wrist, much like a switchblade. It made a really cool click-clacking sound when she did it. Alfonso’s was a set of small kunai throwing knives.

  They all had their pet weapons. If she were a part of the group, what would hers be? she wondered. She didn’t like guns, so that was out. The bullwhip thing wasn’t her. She suddenly remembered a line from an old Don Knotts movie where he did a karate-chop move and said that his whole body was a weapon. Smiling to herself, she decided that maybe self-defense techniques were the way to go.

  Jackson seemed to relax a little as Dom’s explanation sank in, and yet his eyes remained ice-cold, unblinking.

  “So help me God, Mitch, if something happens to her, I’m going to take you apart piece by piece and shove each one down your throat.”

  “Eat myself? Hmm. That could be interesting.”

  Before her brain had even registered that he’d moved, Jackson flew out of his chair and had Mitch in a choke hold. A chair toppled over and papers on the desk scattered everywhere.

  “Jesus Christ,” someone said.

  Fangs inches from the guy’s ear, he seethed, “This is not a fucking joke. You are dead, Stryker, dead, if anything happens to her.” His arm muscles flexed around the guy’s neck, making the snake tattoo grow bigger. He must’ve had it inked there precisely for that purpose, because it looked as menacing as hell.

  “Easy there, big guy,” Lily said, trying to calm him down, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect.

  “Jackson,” Dom said. “Let him go.”

  “Do you fucking hear me?” Jac
kson choked harder.

  Mitch tried grabbing the arm crushing his esophagus, but it wasn’t budging. Jackson was too strong.

  “I’ll be fine,” Arianna said softly, though her heart was racing. “I’m in the office all the time. I know everyone. A lot of good people work there, and just like me, they have no idea that it’s run by vampires.” She rubbed her fingers over his snake tattoo and felt that little snap of electricity.

  He relaxed his hold on Mitch, but he still didn’t release him.

  “You can wait for me out in the parking garage of my building,” she added, encouraged that he seemed to be responding to her. “I’ll give you a pass code so you can get in if I don’t come out at the agreed-upon time.”

  He turned to her and she noted that the intense, I’m-gonna-kill-you expression had softened a little.

  Something inside her stirred. Tiny gears seemed to click into place as her heart continued to pound. She’d never, ever had a man go to bat for her like this. Holy crap, it seriously looked like he was ready to kill for her. And not only that, it was amongst his colleagues who were intelligent, completely sober individuals whom he respected, not a drunk at a bar somewhere who decided to get a little touchy-feely. Or one of his Darkblood enemies.

  She realized she’d been holding her breath, so she exhaled slowly. “I’ll text you the whole time we’re inside so that you know everything is going as scheduled. Would that help?”

  He paused a moment and the whole room grew silent, everyone hanging on how he would respond. Then, with a grunt, he shoved Mitch aside, grabbed the chair that had tipped over and jerked it upright. Stabbing a finger in his partner’s direction, he said, “That candy-ass dimple of yours might work on the ladies, but if you fail tomorrow night, I can guaran-damn-tee that you won’t be smiling for long.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE DOOR TO JACKSON’S quarters at the field office had hardly closed behind him when he felt Arianna’s hands slipping up his arms.

  “I’ll be fine tomorrow night,” she said. “I promise. I’m in the office several days a week, anyway. This is no different.”

  He pushed her arms away and headed toward the closet, ignoring the hurt expression on her face. Okay, so he should have pulled her close, buried his nose in her hair and told her how worried he was about her going into the office with this mission. Who knew what danger awaited her there? For all he knew, Xtark’s employees might all be vampires. Sending Arianna in with this mission would be like throwing her into a den of wolves. And if they caught on to what she was doing…

  He didn’t want to feel protective of her. He didn’t want to care so much. Given all his problems, a life with her would be impossible. Without her, all he’d have to worry about was himself and that sure as hell gave him plenty to keep him busy.

  Besides, what did she see in him, anyway? He was a self-absorbed playboy with commitment issues and a helluva future ahead of him. Not really good boyfriend material.

  He unstrapped his weapons and stowed them in the upright locker, not bothering to put them into their individual slots.

  But she seemed to get him. Truly understand what made him tick and what kind of person he was on the inside. And he wasn’t used to it. Not at all. He was used to the admiration because of his sexual exploits, his crazy antics, but not…this.

  He stripped off his shirt and jeans and tossed them in the corner of the closet then changed into black shorts, a black muscle T-shirt and a pair of running shoes. He’d log some time on the treadmill before he had to go out tonight. He wasn’t on duty, but it had been too long since he’d taken blood and energies from someone other than Arianna. His needs were razor thin and would only get worse if he didn’t do something about it now.

  Maybe that was the problem. Her blood had muddled his mind. Made it so that he wasn’t thinking clearly. He needed a new infusion. Something different. Change things up.

  From inside the walk-in closet, he could hear her rustling around in the bedroom, getting ready for bed. Her wake schedule wasn’t nocturnal the way his was, so she was probably tired. She padded into the attached bathroom and he heard the water running.

  Why didn’t she try to follow him in here when he walked away from her? Tug on his arm. Protest. Coax him to change his mind.

  Well, of course, fuckhead, you hurt her feelings. What did you expect?

  But…but…he’d have thought she’d try to get him to warm up to her again. That’s what his former girlfriends would’ve done.

  “Aw, don’t be mad at me, baby,” they’d say. “Come to bed.”

  And it’d usually work. He’d let them drag him to bed and then they’d have make-up sex.

  But Arianna didn’t. She was…different. She seemed to operate on her own agenda—one that may or may not include him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, but the more he thought about it, he was pretty sure he didn’t.

  Fine. While she was occupied in the bathroom, he’d go ahead and slip out the door. He needed to be alone, anyway.

  He grabbed a change of clothes so that he wouldn’t have to come back when he finished his workout. Answering a bunch of questions about where he was going and when he’d be back wasn’t his deal. He’d shower in the locker room, then leave from there.

  Thankfully, the bathroom door was closed…well, partially closed. He could just see her leaning over the tub, probably testing the water. Was she already undressed?

  He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply, telling himself that he didn’t need her. Didn’t want her. He was simply going to walk out that door, get a quick workout in, then head to the Pink Salon.

  As he walked across the room to leave, he made the mistake of darting a glance toward the bathroom again, hoping for a glimpse of a tight ass or maybe a breast.

  But she wasn’t naked. At least she wasn’t, yet. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, wearing a shirt that hung to midthigh.

  Shit. One of his shirts. One of his goddamn shirts was sliding itself over her skin.

  From this angle, he couldn’t see all of her, but what he could see was her leg stretched out as she leaned over the tub. Her toes, with their blue sparkly polish, gripped the tile floor for purchase. How had he not noticed before that she wore an ankle bracelet? It looked like it was made from braided hemp or some kind of cording, maybe with a bead or two. Was that a toe ring, as well?

  He could feel himself growing hard. Without underwear, his erection easily tented the thin fabric of his shorts. He had the sudden urge to kiss his way down those shapely legs and nibble on her toes. Would she laugh and try to kick him away? Could he get them to curl with pleasure? Maybe if he reached underneath that shirt to the juncture of her thighs.

  He recalled that little sound she made when he’d pushed into her last night. A cross between a moan and a gasp. It made him smile just thinking of it.

  That simple sound had told him what a million words couldn’t. He was doing things right and she liked what he was doing. As her body had tightened around him, squeezing, pulsing, urging him to join her, he’d reached around and touched where he went into her. Where he stopped and she started. Her silky heat coated his shaft a little more with each thrust he made until he could hardly stand it. The pressure inside him exploded into her and he was pretty sure it was his turn to make some noise. God, he’d even bitten her neck again.

  The sound of rippling water and her faint exhale as she slipped into the tub jerked him back to the present. How easy would it be for him to walk in there right now, take off his clothes and join her? In minutes they could be doing what they’d done last night.

  No. No. And no.

  Succumbing to her charms would be a mistake. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t have to remind himself of all the reasons why Jackson plus Arianna equaled trouble. He lost contro
l around her. He wasn’t himself around her. He longed for a future with her that involved more than just a few nights. He wanted to wake up looking at her face tomorrow. Next year. Ten years. Fifty years. The kind of future that did involve painting bathrooms and mixing bank accounts. But that was delusional. Impossible. Reverts didn’t have a future. So he might as well fucking forget about it.

  The downtown clubs would be closing before too long and if he didn’t replenish what he needed, he’d be in real trouble come tomorrow.

  While he still held on to a shred of sanity and before he could change his mind, he stormed out the door and down to the gym, his change of clothes tucked under his arm. He hoped to God he didn’t see anyone else down there. He didn’t need their questions, spoken or not, when they realized he was heading to the clubs downtown while Arianna was tucked into his bed.

  Good thing he had the reputation he did. Being considered an asshole jerk was much better than the suspicion of being a revert.

  An hour later, after a ten-mile run logged on a treadmill and a quick shower, Jackson stopped in the field office’s large kitchen to grab a sandwich for the road. Even if Xian wasn’t around, he usually made up a few, knowing Jackson inhaled them at all hours.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Jackson spun around to see Dom coming through the door. His son, Miguel, was snuggled into his dad’s shoulder with a thumb in his mouth. For a guy who could snap his brindmal around the neck of their enemy before anyone blinked, he sure was a natural holding his kid. A mighty warrior tamed by something so small and vulnerable. He had to admit, it was a damn cool contrast.

  Dom knew he wasn’t planning to play a wholesome game of hopscotch, but Jackson tried to sound innocent, anyway. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not an idiot. You’re going out, aren’t you?”

  Jackson shrugged, stuffed a sandwich half into his mouth. “So what if I am?”

  “If you do, you might as well kiss that gorgeous woman of yours goodbye.”

 

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