Hawk

by Rasey, Patricia A.

  “Let’s get you home,” she said, looking at a frowning Tamera.

  “What did you do with my Gypsy Wipsy?” she whispered, already half asleep as she settled more fully into the car’s cloth seat.

  A chuckle escaped Suzi’s lips before turning into full-blown mirth. She couldn’t help wonder what the bad-ass vampire would think of his new nickname. With more peals of laughter, Suzi tucked that bit of information away for another time, and headed for Florence, back to their shared apartment.

  Chapter 16

  “Good morning, Joe.” Cara walked into the office as if every morning had started much in the same way over the past six months.

  She shrugged out of her light jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. Keeping her return to little or no fanfare seemed to be the best bet. Pick the path of least resistance. Her singular goal was to make Joe feel as if nothing had changed between them, when in actuality everything had. She resided with known outlaws, in her partner’s opinion, ones they had tried to put behind bars. How could he ever understand her relationship with them … with Kane? It wasn’t like she could tell Joe that she was now one of them, that she grew fangs and drank blood to stay alive.

  Protect your neck, human.

  Cara didn’t expect Joe would take it easy on her, nor did she think she deserved special treatment. She’d need to earn his trust again as partner if she hoped to one day have the camaraderie they once shared. She needed to prove to Joe and herself that she could still do the job. So for now, she planned to ease back into her role and let him keep the reins for awhile. She had more years on the job, but he hadn’t been the one who disappeared for six months.

  She placed a box of Tim Horton’s donuts on his desk. “I brought breakfast.”

  Joe looked up from his desk, fighting the smile trying to inch up on his cheeks. “You brought donuts, Brahnam. Seriously?”

  “What’s a cop without donuts and coffee?” She laughed. “I hope you started the coffee.”

  He pointed to the shelf in the corner of the office. Cara walked over to the maker and grabbed the carafe, looking for her mug that was no longer there. She supposed Joe wouldn’t hang on to it for memento’s sake.

  “I threw it out, about two weeks after your departure,” he said, not looking up from his paperwork, nor sounding apologetic in the least. “Use Styrofoam, Brahnam. Guess you’ll need to bring a new one from home. I didn’t want the reminder that you traded your partner in for a gang of outlaws.”

  “They aren’t exactly a bunch of outlaws.” Cara grabbed a white cup and poured herself a cup of the java.

  “Whatever.” Joe glanced up at her. “You call them how you see them, and I’ll call them how I do. Don’t expect me to cut them any slack because you’re shacking up with one of them.”

  “I’m not shacking up.”

  “You and Kane get married and didn’t send me an invite?”

  Cara blew out a breath. How could she possibly explain being mated to Kane? It wasn’t like they had a marriage certificate, and yet mating with a vampire was much more permanent than any human marriage. There was no such thing as vampire divorces. Kane’s had been a special case, getting the okay of Mircea to dissolve his mating because, let’s face it, his stepdaughter was a first-class bitch.

  “No. We didn’t get married. But make no mistake, I do love him.”

  “Then he’s free to dump you as soon as he’s bored?”

  Cara took a seat in her old desk chair across from her partner, grabbed the box of donuts and pulled one from the carton. She took a bite of the sugary delicacy, then washed it down with a sip of her coffee, giving her time to think about how she wanted to answer Joe’s question.

  Licking the sugar from her lips first, she then said, “I know you don’t understand, Joe. But I don’t need a certificate to tell me Kane is faithful to me. We may not be married in what you believe to be the perfect union, but we are together. Kane loves me and would never do anything to hurt me. That includes jeopardizing my job here.”

  “I hope you’re right, Brahnam, because I’m about to test that theory.”

  Cara’s gaze narrowed as they landed on the folder Joe slid across their back-to-back desks. The bar’s name caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat. She looked up at her partner. “What’s this about?”

  “The case I’ve been working on for the past few month’s involves your new love’s favorite haunt, the Blood ‘n’ Rave.”

  “What about the place?” Cara picked up a pen and toyed with it, tapping it on the desk surface.

  “You can’t even hide the fact that I already made you uncomfortable, Brahnam.” Joe grabbed a donut from the box and sat back, pointing at her with his free hand. “Are you going to sit there and tell me this won’t be personal to you? If it is, I’ll bring up a uniform to help me with the case.”

  “No, I can handle this,” Cara said quickly, knowing full well she couldn’t breathe a word of this to Kane. This would be the perfect opportunity to prove herself to Joe that she could separate her personal life from her work.

  She couldn’t allow herself to think how Kane might react to the fact their feeding grounds was under investigation. Kane would flip a switch. Kaleb would go back to hating her, and whatever truce they had managed to date would be forever severed—not to mention how the rest of the Sons would view her. No way would Kane allow Draven or the club to go down for anything illegal. And if she didn’t say something? Talk about a conflict of interest. There was no way Joe hadn’t thought this through when he decided to invite her in on his case. He was testing her—a test she couldn’t fail if she meant to keep her job. Cara nearly groaned. Maybe coming back to the job had been a bad idea after all.

  “You want to tell me what’s involved?”

  “That’s your case file. I made you a copy to look over. But no taking it home, Brahnam. Sorry, I don’t trust your roommates not to tip off Draven. He’s going down.” Joe took a bite from his donut and then smiled at her as he chewed. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he said, “These things are awesome. Thanks, partner.”

  Cara smiled uneasily. “I thought you might like them.”

  “It really is good to have you back, partner. I hope we can work through our differences.” Joe winked at her, making her doubt the sincerity of his statement.

  Trust went both ways, making her wonder if she could truly trust him now that he called out one of Kane’s friends. Cara had been correct in her earlier assessment, everything between them had changed. There would be no going back.

  “I’m sure we can.” Cara offered him a smile of her own. “So, about the Rave. What’s going on there?”

  “The club owner?” Joe’s face sobered as he sat forward, excitement lighting his dark brown gaze. “He goes by the name Draven. Not his real name as you see there under the property’s ownership name. Anyway, looks like the man has been dealing ecstasy to the club goers. I think he’s bringing his drugs up from California.”

  “And you have proof?”

  “We don’t have enough to make a case yet. But we will.” Joe leaned back in his chair. “The cartel smuggles drugs across the Mexican border from what we can tell. There’s an OMC called the Devils. Heard of them?”

  One of Kane’s rival clubs. The same MC partly responsible for Ion’s death. “Yes.”

  “They’re known dealers in California. Big distributors for the cartel. As far as we can tell, they stay south of the Oregon border.”

  “So then what’s this have to do with Draven at the Blood ‘n’ Rave?”

  “We think he’s driving south to get his product.”

  “Is it a big surprise that a club such as his has ecstasy? After all, it is a rave.”

  Joe took a sip from his coffee, then leaned forward. “It’s not Draven that we’re ultimately after, Cara. I’m working with the feds here. This is no small time dealer we’re going after. Draven isn’t the target. It’s his supplier they want.”

  Ca
ra didn’t like where this was going. Now that the feds were also involved, it complicated matters even worse.

  “I figure if we can get someone close to Draven, someone he trusts to find out where he’s getting his drugs from—”

  “No fucking way, Joe! I’ll not use the Sons’ relationship with me against them. They won’t go for this. None of them would betray Draven. He may not be in the Sons, but he’s like a brother to them. Besides, most of Kane’s MC brothers barely tolerate me as it is because I’m a cop.”

  “I don’t expect any of the Sons to cooperate, Brahnam.”

  Her mouth rounded. “Oh, hell no, Joe. I won’t do it either. You can’t ask me to betray Kane.”

  “Who better? You already have an inside track. We just need a little information from Draven is all.”

  “Information that could wind up costing Draven his club and possibly cause him jail time. You think he’s just going to tell me who he gets his supplies from?”

  Joe laughed. “If you believe that, then you must seriously think I doubt your detective skills, Brahnam. On the contrary, I do expect you to get the information, but by using your head. I trust you’ll find a way to help us with this case.”

  How the hell could she possibly do that without damaging her relationship to the Sons, let alone Kane? If she were smart, she’d walk away now, pack up her things and leave the job behind. Her love for Kane far out-trumped her love of the job. She had foolishly thought she could have the best of both worlds. And she could, had it not been for Joe’s desire to test her loyalty. Cara took a deep breath. She could do this. She’d find a way to keep Draven from falling into the hands of the feds, and help Joe solve this case. She didn’t yet know if she’d accomplish the impossible task put before her. But if there was a will, then there was a way. Cara would show Joe that she could manage both her career and her loyalty to Kane and his brethren.

  * * *

  Kaleb walked into the Rave, his mood blacker than it had been in a long time. He knew what had to be done, but he sure as fuck didn’t like it. He had damn near did the one thing he had sworn off of, and had it not been for Grayson’s untimely arrival, he would have been kicking himself to hell and back come morning. He should have kissed Grayson upon his return instead of cursing the ground he walked on. If nothing else, Cara and Suzi had taught him a lesson. He could not be trusted around that woman.

  The way Kaleb saw it, he was left with one option—to cut Suzi Stevens loose.

  When he had forced her hand out of retirement to become his personal donor, he hadn’t been thinking with the right head. He had wanted to torment her, when in truth, he had successfully caused himself great agony in the process. Seeing her every three days, let alone on nights when he wasn’t required to feed, proved to him that he couldn’t do so without his libido getting in the way … or his emotions. Sure, he wanted to fuck the little brunette in the worst way. But with Suzi, he wanted so much more. He wanted to feed from her, wanted to bury himself in her, surround himself with her. Hell, he wanted to wake up next to her and start all over again. Fuck … when had he become so pussy whipped? He gritted his teeth. How the hell was that even possible when he wasn’t even getting any?

  Kaleb wasn’t a one woman kind of man.

  He loved variety, he thrived on not being tied to one woman for all eternity. No way in hell was he cut out to be anyone’s mate. Brunettes and blondes turned his head, he wasn’t discriminatory … he loved black haired and redheaded females, too … and of course there were the brunettes. Kaleb shook his head and growled low. Damn, he had it bad. He wanted Suzi, regardless that she had loved Ion first, regardless of how she reacted to his nephew’s death. He had wanted her from the time she had taken a hold of his dick all those years ago. Avoiding her had become a necessity to keep from admitting, even to himself, that he had fallen hard for the brunette, which is why it had stung so much when she had turned to Ion. Not that he could blame her after the way he had crassly tossed her aside for the next available female. Kaleb had used his nephew as an excuse to keep her at bay and fuel his anger. It may have seemed like a viable rationalization at the time, but now that so much time had passed, his enmity seemed to diminish. Kaleb knew the true reason he avoided her. It was because he no longer trusted himself to be around her.

  Last night lay proof to that in spades.

  He had known that if he ever allowed himself to have sex with Suzi again, he’d be incurable. A mess of emotions. Kaleb couldn’t think straight around her. On one hand he wanted to hate her, be mad as hell, wanting to throttle her. On the other, he wanted nothing more than to walk over to her and kiss her senseless. All he had to do was walk into a room, lay eyes on her, and he was sporting an instant hard-on. Desire raged precariously close to the surface, demanding appeasement. If Grayson hadn’t come home with the inebriated roommate of Suzi’s the night before, he would’ve taken her against the clubhouse wall, regardless of her fiancé. Kaleb had been mere seconds from doing just that, knowing full-well he wouldn’t have gotten an argument from her. Her lips may spout her disdain, but her body told an entirely different tale. Grayson had no doubt done them both a favor.

  Tonight, Kaleb would do one for her.

  Following his feeding, he’d tell her that he was retiring her once again. No way in hell could he stomach the idea of any of his brothers feeding from her. If he wasn’t using her for communion, then neither were the Sons. He may not claim her, but he’d be damned if he allowed anyone else to. Her fiancé came to mind, causing him to curse beneath his breath. A frown turned down his lips. Kaleb couldn’t stomach the idea that she went home to the bastard night after night, giving to him the one thing he so desperately craved. He ran a hand down his face as he approached the bar. How could he think to dictate her life when he didn’t want to be a part of it? Kaleb faced a no-win situation. If he kept feeding from her, he’d be fucking her in less than a week. If he released her, he’d likely never see her again, in which he’d have to allow her a life outside of being a donor. He’d bet if asked, Suzi would no doubt prefer the latter.

  “Who the fuck died?” Draven combed his fingers through his long curls and brushed the stray strands from his face. His top hat was nowhere in sight tonight.

  The man’s overlong hair brushed his shoulders as a heavy five o’clock shadow dusted his cheeks. Kaleb bet the barkeep got nearly as much tail as the Sons. It seemed there were always a bevy of women who hung near the bar, vying for his attention. Draven never seemed to pay them any mind. The barkeep made sure the Sons were well-taken care of and had his undivided attention. His personal life, if he allowed himself one, came after making sure the Sons were well-attended. Draven had been a great and much trusted friend to the Sons of Sangue. And as such, the Sons would always have his back.

  Kaleb ignored the reference to his sour mood. “You see Suzi?”

  “She’s waiting upstairs for you.” His thumb indicated the curtained staircase. “She’s been up there for about a half hour. Said she didn’t feel like hanging at the bar tonight and asked if it was okay to wait for you in my office. I told her she was more than welcome to the space. I didn’t think you’d mind. By the way, she looks fucking hot tonight. Be careful, bro.”

  “Great,” Kaleb mumbled.

  He thanked Draven and headed for the stairs, in no mood to carry on a conversation with the barkeep at the moment. He took the stairs one step at a time, feeling the weight of what he was about to do heavy on his shoulders. Absolving Suzi of her duty as his donor wasn’t exactly making him a happy camper. Hell, no. He truly wanted to throw her over his shoulder, take her home and bed her. But that wasn’t going to happen, not without losing a part of himself. Reason enough to cut his ties. Allowing her beneath his skin had been a bad idea from the moment she walked back into his life a little over a week ago. If he were smart, he’d take the coward’s way out and about-face, tell Draven to make an excuse for him and find himself a new donor. He didn’t need a reason to do so. He was the Presid
ent of the Sons of Sangue and could do as he pleased. Instead, hand on knob, he forced himself to open the door and face her one last time. He owed her that much after forcing her to endure his company.

  Stepping into the dimly lit room, his gaze landed on her. His breath stopped. She sat on the Italian leather sofa, thigh-high boots hugging her shapely legs, stopping just shy of a very short, black-leather mini-skirt. The five-inch heels on those things could certainly be used as weapons. He’d do well to remember that. But damn if they didn’t have his balls tightening and his cock standing at attention at the thought of them digging into his bare ass as he fucked her. On the top half, she wore a red halter, cut damn near to her belly button, barely containing her small, pert breasts. Her nipples pebbled against the silky material. He could easily imagine drawing them between his teeth. It was a most-definite “fuck me” outfit, which nearly had him forgoing his reasoning to cut her loose out the window. Damn her for knowing full-well the reaction that outfit would have on him and wearing it anyway. He could easily envision bending her over the arm of the sofa and tearing her panties from her, shoving into her in one fluid motion.

  Kaleb cursed, his mouth suddenly dry as dirt. A half-empty glass of wine set next to her on the end table. Walking over to it, he grabbed the glass and tossed back the rest of the contents before turning his heated gaze on her. His change wasn’t far off, as it never seemed to be in her company. Kaleb was either wanting to throttle her or fuck her whenever she was in his company. He sure in the hell wished he could just give in and take the latter. His groin tightened at the idea, begging Kaleb to do just that. Strengthening his resolve, he clenched his jaw and bridled the lengthening of his fangs. Conversation first. Then he’d feed.