She didn’t believe him, he knew. Her body visibly shook, but she held her rage within. Without a word, she turned on her heel and swung the door open, letting the heavy wood slam into the wall.
Immediately, his men came forward, but he waved a hand to indicate they should let her and her companions pass. He sat back, letting a deep sigh ease the tension in his neck and back. His glance traveled across the space of his desk to the forgotten photo of the girl. He grimaced and picked up the gruesome image.
She hadn’t forgotten.
The picture floated back to the desktop.
Detective Jessi Tanner had done exactly what she had intended. She’d made him sweat ‑‑ his mind called up an image of her jeans stretched tight over her luscious ass, as she’d marched out his door ‑‑ in more ways than one. If she thought her little oversight with the photograph would result in action, then she had calculated correctly.
Drayden pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and hit a single button. In seconds he was connected to his most trusted lieutenant. He turned his chair to face the window behind him and stared out over the darkened sky.
“Yeah, it’s me. We have a problem. Get me someone down at Red Flame, now.” He hesitated. “And I want all the information you can dig up on a Jessi Tanner from the Hattiesburg Police Department in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.”
Chapter Two
Jessi cradled the phone with her right ear and shoulder as she clicked through the Internet, looking for information. She’d typed in Drayden Maslow’s name and had come up empty. Then she typed in Vampire Houses and hit Search. The screen shifted in color and text.
“Bingo!” She leaned forward, careful not to dislodge the phone. She’d been on hold for the last fifteen minutes. How long could it take for the chief to go to the john ‑‑
“Hello.”
“Chief Thomas, this is Jessi.”
“Well, nice of you to call, Jessica.”
She cringed. No one called her “Jessica” except her mother whenever Jessi made her upset. The chief had the same tone of voice her mother did when Jessi knew a lecture waited for something she’d done wrong. She sighed. Joe Selenka had complained.
“Look, Chief ‑‑”
“No, you look, Detective. You’re a freakin’ guest up there, and I expect you to follow their rules. Got it?”
“But, Chief ‑‑”
“No ‘buts.’ Play nice or come home. If anyone up there finds out the victim was your cousin, it’s my ass, not yours. Your being within five feet of this case is a conflict of interest. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
The line went dead, and she let the receiver fall from her shoulder, then caught it in the crook of her arm. Her fingers clicked the mouse on House Meroveus. She scrolled down the screen, not seeing anything she could connect to Drayden Maslow. The man didn’t exist. She’d hunted the phone book, called information, searched the archives at City Hall ... nothing. The man was a ghost.
“No, there’s no such thing as ghosts, and he damn well knows more than he’s saying about this murder.” She sighed, sat back, and rubbed her eyes. She’d been at this all morning. Time to take a break. Standing, she stretched her arms above her head and arched her back with a heavy yawn. The hem of her sweater rode to a point below her breasts.
From around the room erupted cat calls and shouts of “Show us some more skin.” Jessi dropped her arms and flipped a couple of guys off.
“Yeah, that’s what we want, baby!”
“Jack-off, Donaldson.”
The detective made an obscene motion with his hand in front of his fly.
Jessi shook her head and mumbled under her breath. “Men. They’re the same everywhere you go.”
“Not all of us.”
Jessi spun around to the male voice behind her, and had to look up a long way before she could see his face. Her mouth fell open, while her heart skipped a few beats. At least six-foot-six, the guy wore all black, which blended with his long black hair and dark eyes. For a second she thought Drayden Maslow stood in front of her, but she studied the intense face more closely. Her heart settled in her chest. They looked a lot alike, but this man had a sexy little cleft in his chin and a kinder mouth ‑‑ shaped like Cupid’s bow ‑‑ perfect for kissing!
For the first time that day, Jessi smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. Are you Detective Tanner?”
“Uh, yeah, but you can call me ... Jessi, if you like.” Her voice sounded feminine and soft compared to the gruff and bitchy voice she’d used on her coworkers just seconds before.
He smiled; she gripped the back of her chair and bit back a groan. That smile could hypnotize a room full of women all drooling for a chance to stare into the mesmeric gaze that looked down at her. They stared at each other for what seemed minutes before she realized she still didn’t know who he was, or what he wanted.
“Please, sit down.” She indicated the chair beside the loaner desk the NYPD had given her for her use during her investigation. “What can I do for you, Mr. ‑‑”
“Konstantinos.”
Umm, Greek. “Okay. What can I do for you, Mr. Konstantinos?”
“Just Konstantinos. No ‘mister.’” His smile deepened to form dimples on either side of his sensual mouth.
“Sure.” Oh, baby. I’ll call you anything you want. In her mind, Jessi bit her knuckles and kicked herself. She had to get a grip here. She cleared her throat, picked up some papers on her desk, and tapped them into order. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m here to do something special for you.” The rich voice held a note of amusement and seduction blended together, as smooth as warm red wine.
Her mouth fell open at the same time the papers in her hands fluttered to the floor. She sat there looking at the Greek god in front of her, hoping she’d heard him right. After six months of no sex, there were several special things she needed him to “do for her.” Her gaze fastened onto his lips. The tip of her tongue darted out to trace the top edge of hers.
Konstantinos threw his head back and laughed. The sound, as sexy and husky as his voice, circled and curled through her body to settle in the throbbing nerves of her clit. If he kept on, she’d come in her chair right in the middle of the police station.
He leaned forward and placed the tips of his thumb and forefinger on her chin. “I don’t think you want me to do that to you right here, Jessi mou.” His breath fanned her cheeks and lips.
She closed her mouth and breathed in the scent of warm, clean male.
He smiled and sat back. “Maybe sometime when we’re not working together.”
“Sure.” She sighed, then realized what she’d heard. Her eyes narrowed. “What did you say?” She was awake now. Her sexual fantasies disappeared in a puff of smoke at his words. “You’re working with me? On what?”
He shrugged. “I’m your vampire expert.”
Her eyebrows shot up. She studied him, letting her gaze travel from the tip of his black head to the soles of his black combat boots. A silver ring on his right hand caught her attention. She angled her head to get a better look. A pentacle. She frowned.
“Are you a vampire?”
“No.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Although all the evidence she’d gathered indicated that Molly Jones had been killed by a vampire, Jessi still found the idea hard to believe.
“I’m a witch.”
“Witch?” She came out of her chair and stood gaping at the man sitting calmly beside her desk.
“Actually, a Dark Neopagan ‑‑”
“Oh ... my ... God.” She sat down with a thud. Her chair rolled into the filing cabinet behind her, but she didn’t care. Her head throbbed and she thought she would be sick.
“Or, Goddess.” He laughed.
She closed her eyes and let her forehead rest on one hand against the arm of her chair. “I just can’t take anymore of this hocus-pocus shit.” She peeked out between her fingers at her new “pa
rtner,” hoping he had disappeared.
No luck. He sat right where she’d left him before his mind-blowing revelation.
“Look, it’s like this.” She let her hand drop. “I’m from Mississippi. We don’t have this kind of crap where I come from.”
The smile evaporated and he leaned toward her. “Obviously, you do, or you wouldn’t be here investigating the murder of a young woman.”
His quiet words hit home, forcing her to sit up in her chair. “Tell me what I need to know.”
* * * * *
“Isn’t this just peachy.” She flipped through the pages of the book Konstantinos had given her. “‘Vampires, in reality, are those creatures who prey upon others for sustenance.’”
She glanced into Lieutenant Jackson’s office. All she could see of her gorgeous Greek were his long legs and boots ‑‑ black, of course. She continued her reading. “‘The source of that sustenance, the method of obtaining it, and the need it fulfills are what distinguish the different types of vampires from each other.’”
Seemed the lieutenant’s daughter ran in the goth crowd. When he’d mentioned the case to his wife at the dinner table, the daughter “just happened to know someone who could help.”
Behind her she heard several male voices moaning in ghoulish form. She shook her head at their childish antics.
“Find any vampires, Tanner?”
“Better wear your cross to bed at night.”
She ignored them up to the point Selenka pressed his sweaty cheek against hers and whispered in her ear. “Yeah, ’cause if your new boyfriend doesn’t bite you, I will.”
Jessi patted his cheek. “I kicked your ass once, Selenka. Don’t make me do it again in front of all your friends.”
He jerked away from her, but not before he issued a warning. “You’re gonna be alone sooner or later, bitch, and I’m gonna be there waiting for you.”
Jessi scrubbed a hand over the spot his skin had touched and fought the bile that rose in her throat. She threw the book onto her desk and sighed.
“You’re not studying.”
She swiveled around to see Konstantinos. He stared after Joe, then wrapped the ends of his black coat around himself before he dropped his large frame gracefully into the side chair. She shook her head.
“Want to put a whammy on his ass for me?”
He turned his head toward her, and dark eyes stared into hers. The beautiful smile had disappeared. At that second she felt a shimmer of fear, as Konstantinos’s intenseness took her breath.
“Ever hear of the threefold law?”
“No.” Her answer sounded hushed and reverent. She felt like she had when she’d sat in Sunday school, looking up at the preacher with her breath held tight, waiting for the revelation of the Holy Spirit.
“The threefold law states that whatever energy you send out will be sent back to you three times stronger.”
His words trailed off, and silence lay between them. His gaze still held the intensity of a few seconds before, but she thought she saw a glint of humor in the dark depths. Jessi knew he was giving her a chance to consider the information he’d given her, like some child he might be tutoring.
Child, indeed. She smiled. “So, if I wanted to put a spell on you to make you desire me a little bit, we’d end up in bed all day, fucking our brains out?”
He blinked ‑‑ twice. Then his lips turned up into a wide smile. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Hmm, doesn’t sound too complicated. I’ll just have to remember to cast ‘nice’ spells.”
“Interested in becoming a witch?”
“According to my ex, I already am.”
Konstantinos laughed. “We’re going to get along just fine.”
“I just bet we will.” Jessi stood and tucked his book under her arm. They needed to get started. Her temporary lieutenant had asked this strange man to be her “tutor” in the occult world of witches and ‑‑ God forbid ‑‑ vampires.
Chapter Three
Jessi played with the cardboard coaster, flicking the square through her fingers, and watched Konstantinos work the crowded club. Women of all ages and sizes flocked around him like groupies. She could tell he ate up the attention. He had a smile for the redhead and a caress on the cheek for the brunette. The blond, he offered the briefest touch of a kiss on her pouty lips to keep her coming back for more.
Jessi’s eyebrow rose at that move. Smooth Operator. The old song entered her mind as she watched him in action. His movements were precise and accurate, like he had carefully planned them to draw attention, mainly female, to himself.
She smiled. She really did like him. He had sex appeal oozing from his pores and a good sense of humor. Too bad he was the type she’d sworn to stay away from for the rest of her life. She’d been burned too many times to fall for another playboy, but if anyone could tempt her, he’d be the one.
“Your boyfriend is popular.”
The hair on the back of her neck rose at the sound of the familiar voice. Jessi turned to the man behind the bar where she sat.
Drayden Maslow stood with his hands flat on the countertop, looking across the floor at Konstantinos. Drayden’s long black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, accentuating his high cheekbones and lean face. He wore a black poet’s shirt with black leather pants and boots. Where the shirt lay open at his neck, she could make out the edge of a silver chain and medallion. He looked like an artist, brooding and mysterious.
“Yes, he is.” She wouldn’t deny the “boyfriend” reference. It wasn’t any of his business that she and Konstantinos had nothing but a working relationship.
Her gaze traveled the length of his arms down to his fingernails. A wide silver band encircled his middle finger. She shivered at the sheer beauty of his hands and the lethal weapons on the end of each finger. She had no doubt he’d used them in battle before. There was an air of death that lingered around him.
A black eyebrow rose, and again she was reminded of the similarity between him and Konstantinos. She glanced at his mouth. This was where the similarity ended. Drayden’s mouth had the fullness that Konstantinos’s did, but not the sensuality. Drayden Maslow would take and consume what he wanted, forcing a response from a lover, while Konstantinos would coax a woman’s favors from her with guile and cunning. In that respect, she knew who the true poet was. This man was a warrior, not a playboy.
She turned and watched Konstantinos smile at the blond clinging to his arm.
“Didn’t take you for the type who likes group sex.”
Jessi turned back at the cutting quality in his voice. “Whatever my sexual preferences are, Mr. Maslow, I don’t think they concern you.”
He shrugged a shoulder toward her friend. “He’s a musician and a mentalist. He attracts women like a corpse attracts flies.”
“Colorful analogy.”
The smile that appeared held no warmth. He leaned closer. “And he’s known to have different women every night of the week.”
He stood so close she could count his eyelashes. A nervous flutter teased her stomach. She swallowed and forced herself to remain still. “That’s his prerogative.”
“What flavor are you?”
Bastard. Jessi forced herself to smile and move closer. Their noses were less than an inch apart. They’d see who intimidated whom first. Long and far gone were the days she let any man scare her off. She’d been there, done that, and had the balls, now, to prove it.
“I’m the flavor of the month.” She eased a finger out to trace the edge of his jaw. The scrub of stubble sent shock waves through her body to her clit. Her foot fought to keep her body balanced on the bar stool, but she kept her position.
“I’m the one he’ll be taking home, so let those other women enjoy a little flirting while they can.” She wrinkled her nose at him and smiled wider.
Black lashes flickered down, and she could feel his gaze on her lips, but refused to back away. Her heart thudded hard, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he cou
ld feel the erratic beat. A puff of air was all the warning she got before his tongue snaked out and licked the seam of her lips.
Her eyes opened wide to clash with his at the same time her mouth opened on a protest. He took advantage again and slipped a warm tongue into her mouth. When she made to move away, a hand eased behind her neck beneath her hair to hold her in place while the other hand wrapped around the top of her arm. The graze of his nails through the fabric of her sweater sent shivers up her spine.
Music, voices, and noise evaporated as he moved his tongue over hers, letting her feel the cool caress of his tongue ring and the nip of his teeth on her lips. The faint taste of bourbon and cigarettes teased her taste buds.
She closed her eyes and moaned. Moisture pooled between her legs as the slow crawl of desire wound its way through her body, licking and burning every nerve cell in its path.
He released her arm, and the kiss ended. The hand at the base of her neck caressed once, then eased away, trailing fingernails against her skin. Music and noise erupted around them.
Jessi jumped, and goosebumps appeared on her arms. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and inched off the stool. Taking a step back, she looked around at the other patrons. No one seemed to have noticed them. It was like they had been enveloped in their own slice of time.
“W-Why did you do that?”
Black eyes glittered in the dim light. He shrugged, picked up a towel, then wiped the counter. “Just wanted to sample the ‘current flavor’ before it got used up and replaced.”
“Bastard.” This time she didn’t care that he heard what she thought of him. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth harder. “I hope you enjoyed it, because that was the last time you’ll taste that particular brand.”
“Don’t be so hasty with conclusions.” He snapped the towel and laughed. “We have an interesting future ahead of us.”
“Yeah, what makes you think that?”
Maslow's Needs Page 2