The splash of murderous red on her nails didn’t do much to lift her spirits, but Dakota was pleased with how she looked, at least. The dress might have been a bit overdone, but red looked good on her. It clung to her curves, stopped just a bit short of her knees. And she could still move.
She’d passed on the really cute Jimmy Choos with the ankle straps, settling on a simpler pair of heels. She could run barefoot without falling. Even though falling wasn’t likely, running flat out in heels wasn’t as easy as people might make it seem in books or movies.
On the job, Dakota was practical, and even if she was taking some time to get dumped, she was still working. The only time she wasn’t working was when she crashed in her cabin up in Maine or when she got pulled into Excelsior for one thing or another.
The life of a Hunter.
Sighing, she made one last study of her reflection, pulling the brush through her dark brown hair. It curled around her mostly naked shoulders, the ends coming down to drape around her breasts. She looked good. She was honest enough to admit that. She looked good…like a woman who wanted a man to know it, too.
“Damn it.” She swallowed and turned away from her reflection, determined not to spend the next hour thinking about this. Next hour, minimum, because even though she wasn’t meeting Drew until midnight, she’d be circling around the city. Circling around, watching things. Making sure she wasn’t being watched. There were paranormal creatures aplenty here.
Every damn time she came through, she had to settle trouble. None of it was bad. If it had been bad in the major category, a bigger bad-ass would be here.
Dakota had yet to grow into full bad-ass potential.
But she was good enough to play cop and if things got bad, call in the big guns. Part of playing cop meant being careful.
The life of a Hunter.
A damn lonely life.
“So. You’re breaking things off.” Nic stared at him with a thoughtful frown. “Look, you know, you don’t have to do this. I…I can tell you’ve got feelings for her. And it’s not like we’re ready to move in together or anything. All we’ve got so far is a couple of casual dates and…”
He caught her around the back of the neck and pulled her close. When this woman started babbling, as adorable as it was, this was the only way to stem the flow of words. She gasped against his mouth and then sighed, moving closer. Her lips parted for him and she slid her hands inside his coat.
“Hmmm.” She hummed under her breath as he lifted his head. “What was that for?”
“To make you be quiet a minute.” Pressing his brow to hers, he stroked his thumb across her damp lower lip. “I know I don’t have to do this. But things with me and her aren’t ever going to change, and I don’t like where they are. I like where things are with us. We can’t change while she’s in the picture. Those casual dates won’t go any further until things change, right? So we change them.”
I change them, he thought.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “That shouldn’t sound so sweet. But it does.” Nic rested her head against his chest. “Call me when you wake up?”
“Yeah.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, the silken blonde strands glinting in the harsh, fluorescent lighting. “You want me to follow you home?”
“No. I’m good. I’ve got paperwork to finish up. I’ll have somebody walk me out.” She stroked a hand down his cheek. “You need to shave, baby.”
Then she pecked him on the lips and turned around, her heels clicking on the floor. Just before she disappeared around the hall, her phone rang. He could hear her voice drifting down the hall. When she suddenly snapped, “Son of a bitch!” it made him grin.
He was still shaking as his head as he turned to grab his stuff. But the grin had faded by the time he hit the door. He had thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes to figure out how in the hell to tell Dakota Coulter good-bye.
How did he tell this woman he loved that he was leaving her because she wouldn’t hang around for longer than a day? Hell, he hadn’t even told her loved her.
If she asked why he was ending it, did he tell her he didn’t entirely trust her? And that he’d rather have the sweeter, quieter woman who was there…even if he didn’t want her quite as much as he wanted Dakota?
Rage vibrated inside her. She hid in the darkness, clinging to the shadows she’d just learned to call, because she had to get control. Yeah. Dakota was being dumped. For another woman. She could smell the other woman, even above the smoke, the alcohol, the food…and that lovely, male scent that was uniquely Drew’s.
Now it was for another woman to enjoy.
Mine.
Everything inside her screamed it. But she pushed it aside. Yeah, she had feelings for the guy. She’d had them for a while, but Drew was human.
Dakota was a vampire. Her heart might still very well be human, but she’d stopped being human forty years ago. Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them away. Nothing like leaking blood-tinged tears to really freak him out. She waited until she knew her eyes would be normal. Even though she knew they hadn’t slid from their sheaths, she checked her fangs with her tongue.
He didn’t know. Oh, he knew she had secrets. She could see it in his eyes. She had no doubt that was part of the problem between them. But what could she say? Honey, I’m a vampire. I’ll be around as often as I can, but…
He was a mortal who wouldn’t even believe in her world. She’d always known it would have to end. Now it was time. As she slid from the booth, she released the shadows. She saw the way he stiffened when he saw her, caught off guard. She allowed herself a small, pleased smile. She’d seen him looking for her, and he was a cop—he’d have looked well.
But nobody could hide like a vampire.
She came to a stop in front of him, smiled at him lazily, careful to keep her mouth closed. Now that she was closer, she could smell the other woman more clearly and she wasn’t going to risk losing that oh-so-precious control.
“Hey there.” He bent down to kiss her, not that he had to bend much with the four-inch heels she wore.
Dakota turned her head to the side so that his lips brushed against her cheek. Her heart shuddered in her chest and she eased backward, avoiding his gaze as she headed toward the bar. “I need a drink,” she said over her shoulder. Not that she expected it would do her much good, except maybe the familiarity of it. She’d have to down a vat of it before she could really get tanked.
She slid onto the stool and called out to the bartender. “Hendrix and tonic with a cucumber slice! Make it a double.”
“Sure thing, beautiful.” His smile flashed white in his dark face. White…with rather sharp teeth. She rolled her eyes. Bo was a shifter. It was one of the reasons she liked this pub. He was a decent sort. If she had to slip out sudden-like, he’d help cover her retreat. As he brought the drink down to her, he focused on her face, his nostrils flaring a bit.
“You’re unhappy, Hunter.” he said, his voice too low for Drew to hear. That didn’t keep him from trying. He slid onto the stool next to her, gaze narrowed on Bo. The shifter ignored him, stroking a finger down Dakota’s cheek. “I don’t like to see a pretty Hunter unhappy.”
“Can’t be helped.” She smiled brightly. Then she reached out and patted his hand. In a voice just as low as his, she said, “Now stop trying to piss him off. This is going to be hard enough, ’kay?”
Bo stared at her, then, with a sigh, he walked off. She took a sip of her drink. Distracted, she glanced around and saw a business card somebody had left on the bar. It had a phone number on it. For some reason, it made her even sadder to see it. Somebody else had struck out tonight.
Taking the business card, she absently started to fold it up, turning it into a neat triangle. She kept fiddling with it until Bo slid a Guinness in front of Drew.
Dropping the business card, she took a healthy drink from her glass and then turned, crossing her legs as she studied Drew’s face. His gaze dropped, quick as a wish, to her leg
s and then shot right back up to her face. Oh, yes. It was over.
He reached for the business card, unfolding and it smoothing out the creases. “You did that the first time I gave you my number.”
“Habit. You know that by now.” She shoved her hair back, staring at the familiar lines of his face, memorizing them. Over, it really was over. Damn it, she had to get out of here before she started to cry. “Look, let’s just get it over with, baby. I’d rather not listen to whatever pretty speech you put together.”
The thick fringe of his lashes drooped over his eyes. “What exactly do you do for a living, Dakota, read minds?” he asked, his voice conversational. Or it would have been, if he hadn’t been raising it to be heard over the noise in the bar. One hand, long-fingered and callused in just the right way, closed around his glass.
Dakota sighed. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, although she knew he wasn’t really asking, this time. “Baby, you know what I do for a living. Security consulting. We’ve had this discussion before.”
“Yeah. And I sell bridges in Arizona.” He took a deep drink from his Guinness. “Do I even need to spell this out or did you already piece it together?”
“Why don’t you just save me the details, Drew?” She tossed back the rest of the drink and slid off her stool, ignoring the concern in his eyes. “I hope she makes you happy, cop.”
Without saying another word, she headed off toward the back of the bar. She heard him behind her. Almost started to turn—she wouldn’t mind one last kiss. Something to give him to remember her by. But something prickled along her spine.
There was a whisper of warning, those instincts that made her what she was. Part of those secrets she’d kept hidden from Drew. As much as she’d love to give Drew that farewell kiss, she knew she couldn’t. Once more, duty called. She was needed.
She shot Bo a look. He wasn’t a Hunter, but sometimes she suspected that was because he’d chosen not to be.
Their gazes met. With a subtle jerk of his head, he nodded to the backroom. He’d cover her, let her leave in secrecy, in silence.
As she slid away from Drew, he played interception.
One last time. Because she wouldn’t be seeing Drew again.
It all but ripped her heart out to think about it.
“What the…?”
Okay, he’d come here to break things off, but he’d wanted to say good-bye, damn it. Was there a fucking reason he couldn’t say good-bye?
Oh, hell, no. He was going to at least do that. She might not be what he needed—even if she was what he wanted, but he would have good-bye.
“Hey there, buddy…”
The bartender, moving with an eerie silence that was almost as disturbing as Dakota’s, stood between them. Drew tensed, his eyes narrowed. “Step back.”
“Can’t do that, cop.” Then he smiled, quick and easy. “Not unless you got a good reason for tearing off into the backroom of my business. You give me a reason, then sure, I’m happy to let you. I’m a law-abiding citizen, you know.”
“How about you just let my girlfriend go back there and she’s upset?”
The black man reached up, scraped his nails down his cheek in a thoughtful, lazy manner. “Well, you see, the problem there is this…she isn’t your girlfriend. Not any more at least. You just broke things up. Got another lady waiting for you, too.”
“That’s none of your business, is it?” And how the hell did you know that?
“Your girlfriend? You?” The man shook his head. “Not a bit. But Dakota, well, she’s a friend of mine. She walked away. That means she’s done. Let her go. Go on now, man. You got your own path to follow, don’t you? Doesn’t seem to include her anymore.”
His golden eyes glimmered in the dim light and for a minute, Drew would have sworn they glowed. The man’s face seemed something…other. But then the moment passed and the bartender smiled. “You gotta understand, man. I just don’t like the idea of a cop roaming around my place without a reason, but even less…I don’t want you upsetting her any more than she already is.”
“That’s why I’d like to talk to her.”
“Talking to her after you ditched her for another woman isn’t going to make her feel better.” Now he stared at Drew as though he was the stupidest man on God’s green earth.
It didn’t help that maybe Drew even felt that way.
It also didn’t help that Drew had the weirdest feeling he was making a huge mistake, walking away from Dakota. But she wasn’t what he needed…
Isn’t she…?
No. What he needed was the pretty, petite blonde who didn’t have a thousand secrets, who answered his phone calls, and who would be there. He didn’t want to put a ball and chain on any woman, but he’d sure as hell like to have a woman in his life who was around more often an once a month, once every two months…less.
Sighing, he shifted his gaze past the other man, staring at the closed door that separated him from Dakota. “You need to go check on her then. Make sure she’s okay…hell. I don’t know. I just…”
“I’ve always been there when she needed me. Today’s no different.”
As the cop finally left, Bo said, “Marin.”
His second, a small, sleek woman, appeared at his side. The top of her head barely reached the middle of his chest. She was one of the meanest bitches he’d ever met in his life—he absolutely adored her.
“Yeah?”
“Watch the bar for me. I think I’m needed somewhere.”
She sighed and pushed her pink-streaked hair back from her face. “Dude, you keep insisting you’re no Hunter.”
Bo smiled. “I’m not…I’m just worried about Dakota. She’s a friend. If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t worry unless it was going to present a problem for us.”
His small pack was just now getting established here. He wouldn’t risk it.
But he wouldn’t be much of a friend if he ignored that tingle on his spine, either. Dakota had problems coming her way. He didn’t know what they were, but if it was something she could handle, he wouldn’t be feeling this way.
“I’ll be back.”
As he slipped through the back door, Marin made a face at him.
Chapter Two
Somebody was going to die. Dakota tasted it, felt it. Could feel it clogging her throat and she wanted to kick her own ass. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t felt anything earlier. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t realized anything bad was going down. What mattered was that she hadn’t been doing her job. She had been with Drew.
Now somebody was going to die. She knew she wouldn’t get there in time to stop it. She could feel the blood. Taste it. It hung in the air like a cloud.
Idiot. Stupid, selfish idiot. What had she been thinking?
It was thicker now, the stink of death, thicker as she drew closer to the building, and when she started up the fire escape, it was almost enough to choke her. She heard them. Voices, whispering. A grunt. A soft, broken moan. The air is thick with the stink of violent, angry lust.
Calling on the shadows, she wrapped herself in them, hiding. Distantly, she was aware of the fading, faltering pulse. The woman, she was dying. I’m sorry...
The window was open. Dakota hesitated. How do I get in?
How had feral vamps gotten in? Had the woman invited them? There was some truth to the rumor vampires could only go where they were invited—a person set up a home, set down roots, it gave him a bit of protection. Their protection started to fade, though, when the owner died. This owner wasn’t gone—yet.
Dakota wasn’t going to wait until it was too late. Focusing her mind, she reached out. As she did it, she prayed. As the ferals were too far into the blood lust, they wouldn’t be aware of anything else. That was bad for the woman, the better for Dakota. She was clinging to life, but only barely.
Hey, sweetheart. Invite me in. I’ll get rid of them.
She felt a flicker of surprise from the woman—followed by desperation, determination. This woman wa
nted to live. Even though her body strength was waning with every drop of blood loss, clung to life. Help me. Help us…
Us...? Dakota frowned. Then she took a deep breath, trying to filter out the scent of blood. Death, that faint sense of food and something else... another scent, one she knew, hauntingly familiar and tugged at her senses.
And something—stronger, so strong, it threatened to overpower everything else.
Death. Not a woman about to die, the people who had already died.
She didn’t need to wait for this woman to invite her in.
The people who lived here were already dead.
Out of habit, Dakota took a deep breath and gripped the knife she had lifted from Bo’s backroom. The Kel-tech was wicked sharp and specially made, with enough silver in the blade to make any vampire very, very sorry.
The first one, stupidly standing with his back to the door, didn’t survive for more than a few seconds. She plunged the knife into his back as savage jerk of her wrist, shredded his heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.
She stared at the remaining vampire where he remained crouched over his victim. “Get up.” She stared at him and twirled her knife.
His eyes, dazed, all but drowned from the blood lust, stared at her. Dakota took one step toward him. Snarling, she said again, “Get. Up.”
He might be lost to the blood lust—barely more than an animal. But even animals had the instinct to live. As he came for her, Dakota braced herself.
Screw it.
Drew tried to tell himself that, tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. They had ended it. That’s what counted, right? They had even ended it without an ugly, dramatic scene. To be honest, he’d expected some drama. She just seemed the type.
Maybe he should be happy.
Fuck that. He wasn’t happy. Damn it, she’d just walked. How in the hell could she just walk? Two years and this was how it ended?
Okay, so yeah, he’d ended it, but…
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