Darkness Calls

by Caridad Piñeiro

  She came in his arms, calling his name in a hoarse cry. Her body and mind were no longer her own. They were part of his darkness.

  And she welcomed it.

  Diana bolted upright on the sofa, her body trembling and aroused. A fine sheen of sweat covered every inch of her.

  She cursed, sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees while she tried to still the aching throb between her legs. Leave it to her to finally have an erotic dream—with a demon. A demon with Ryder’s face.

  Dios, but it had been hard enough to think about facing him after what had happened last night. How would she ever face him now? How could she look at him and not remember the demon lover from her dreams? Not remember how he’d made her feel? Allowing herself into his darkness had brought sweet release from the pain she carried within.

  She buried her head against her knees and rocked back and forth. She could handle Ryder. She would not be dragged down into the warped existence that had claimed her after the death of her father. She had struggled too hard to escape that place. A place too much like the one she had so willingly volunteered to enter by taking on this case. She had thought herself strong enough to play the role, never expecting it to call to her so potently.

  And Ryder. She’d never expected him to summon her with the pain she saw within his heart. So much like her own pain that she wanted to comfort him and maybe, by doing so, find peace herself.

  Working with him on this case harder than she had ever thought. Ryder intrigued her. On a personal level, she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t be? But it wasn’t just physical attraction. That she could fight. It was the emotions he roused in her that were much harder to battle.

  And of course, Ryder worried her on a professional level. He seemed to know too much about the killer’s tastes and yet she was certain he had nothing to do with the murders. Her instincts, however, told her that he was guilty of something. What, she didn’t know.

  The conflicts were wearing her down. The dream had just proved it. She had no control around Ryder, had not had it from the get-go. A part of her relished that loss, but the other part feared that loss with every bone in her body.

  But maybe losing control was the only way to gain some perspective. Some dominion over the call of the darkness that threatened. And some peace, she acknowledged.

  But she wouldn’t think about it anymore. Instead she plopped back down on the sofa to try for another hour of sleep before she had to get ready for work. And Ryder.

  Diana sat across from David in the small coffee shop only blocks from The Lair. The cold remains of a half-eaten burger sat on her plate, and she idly ran a French fry through the ketchup, creating trails of red. Like blood…She pushed the plate away.

  “Not hungry?” David reached over, snagged a fry from her plate and popped it into his mouth. His own plate was clean of the cheeseburger deluxe he had wolfed down.

  She shrugged. “Where is he? Where has he taken her?”

  “What?” David asked while munching on another fry.

  “The killer,” she answered with a trace of exasperation. “It’s too soon for him to break the pattern. He should have taken her by now.”

  David grabbed another fry, popped it into his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. “We don’t know that he took the other victims on Friday.”

  “It was definitely Friday.” She counted the facts on each finger. “Liz Benton’s roommate never saw her on Saturday. And the Mendez woman had a date on Saturday and also never showed. He took them on Friday.”

  “They were found on Sunday morning,” David countered. “Maybe he waited until Saturday—”

  Diana shook her head and motioned for David to stop. “I know it’s possible he could take someone tonight, but…” She sensed that it was already too late. She looked down at the smudged and scarred tabletop and ran a finger along its surface before facing her partner once more. “He’s already killed another woman.”

  David paused, French fry halfway to his mouth. “Don’t be such a—”

  “Pessimist? We didn’t stop him, David. I know it in here.” She placed her hand against her chest, stressing the point.

  Leaning back into the cracked red leather of the booth, David sighed. “We’re doing what we can.”

  Diana gripped the edges of the table. “Maybe there’s more we can—”

  David lurched forward, surprising her with the intensity in his voice. “More than what you did last night? How much more, Di? How much harder can you press before you—”

  “Cross a line?” she blurted out, and sank against the back of the booth. “I think it’s already too late for that, David.”

  Her partner looked at her, his blue eyes cold and assessing but also filled with concern. “I clocked him last night. Warned him about coming near you again.”

  Diana laughed harshly. “Poor Ryder. Between you and me, he must have been quite sore this morning.”

  “He could have us canned, you know. He could—”

  “He won’t,” she said as she signaled the waitress for the check.

  David said nothing as the older woman handed Diana the tab and took Diana’s credit card. When the waitress walked away, he asked, “How do you know?”

  Diana couldn’t say how, and that frightened her. “I just know,” she replied, and looked away from her partner’s too-observant gaze.

  He was silent for a long time, until the waitress had come back with the receipt and the busboy had cleared the table. Finally, Diana met his gaze and it was then that he said softly, “Ryder told me that you do what you want even though you know it’s not what’s right. That one day, you’re going to drag me down with you because I can’t control you.”

  There was fear in his voice. She’d never heard it before, even when they’d been in situations that warranted it. Reaching out, she grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I would never do anything to hurt you, David. You’re my partner and my best friend.”

  David entwined his fingers with hers. “Stuff happens, Di. We may not want it to, but—”

  “I would never—”

  “You already did, Di. Last night I lost my cool over what he was doing to you. I risked my career. Ryder was right.”

  Diana sighed and dragged her free hand through her hair in exasperation. “Ryder doesn’t know me. He—”

  “Knows you better than you do yourself, I think. It’s what scares you. It’s what attracts you to him.” David released her hand, stood and shrugged to readjust the shoulder holster beneath his jacket. Then he held out his hand to her. She took it and rose from the booth. As David started to move away, she pulled on his hand and wrapped her arms around him. “Gracias.”

  David returned the embrace, his solid presence reassuring and comforting. He was her stability. Her foothold on what was quickly becoming a slippery slope down to a place she didn’t want to visit again.

  When he finally released her and playfully chucked her under the chin, she bent and checked her ankle holster. Satisfied the gun was secure, she rose and followed her partner out of the coffee shop, intent on beginning that night’s surveillance. She hoped that her feeling was wrong and that tonight the killer would make a move.

  And she hoped that Ryder wouldn’t.

  The weather was brisk outside, with a nip of chilliness that hinted at the coming of autumn. Ryder glanced across the water and down at the trees that dotted Roosevelt Island, looking for any changes that would confirm fall was almost here. The night would soon be longer and the sun weaker, allowing him greater freedom of movement that the summer denied him.

  But the trees were still a dark green in the dimming light of dusk.

  “Aren’t you going to be late?” Melissa asked as she came out onto the patio.

  “I’m skipping the club tonight. There’s too much going on.”

  “And too many unwanted people?”

  He nodded and laid his hands on top of the rough brick wall that edged
the patio. “Yes. Too many agents and police. Better to avoid them.”

  Melissa gave a thoughtful “Hmm” and faced him, leaning one arm on the wall. “Avoid them or should you say, avoid her?”

  Ryder almost absentmindedly raised his hand and ran it along his cheek. It had already healed, but the memory of why he had gotten the scrape lingered in his mind. “She’s an unwelcome complication, Danvers.”

  Reaching up, Melissa brushed away his hand and ran her thumb along his cheekbone. “She had no reason to—”

  Ryder pulled away from her touch and let out a harsh laugh. “Her partner did it. But even if he hadn’t, believe me, she had every reason to. What I did…” He stopped and shook his head. “In the old days, my daddy would’ve whupped me good for taking advantage of a woman like that.”

  “This isn’t the good ol’ days, Ryder, and modern women don’t let anyone do anything they don’t want done.”

  He whirled on her angrily. “And what the killer does? Do the women want that?”

  She laid her hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. “This isn’t about the killer. It’s about you and this agent.”

  “This agent…Come the end of this case, she’ll be gone and things will be back to normal.”

  Melissa slipped her hand away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. “Nothing will ever be normal about the life we lead. Nothing.”

  There was a harshness to her tone that drew his attention. “There’s no reason why your life can’t be normal, Melissa.”

  “Isn’t there?” she challenged.

  “Being my servant—”

  “I hate that word,” she said with a shudder. “It makes me feel like I should be a bug-eating Renfield.”

  Ryder smiled. “It certainly is an outdated term. You don’t really serve me, but you do help keep me safe.”

  “Yep, that’s me. I keep your blood and your health,” Melissa replied, and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You’re wise to stay away tonight, before you risk more than you already have.”

  Ryder smiled tightly. “You’re probably right. So what are your plans?”

  “On a rare free night? Dinner with some girlfriends and then a movie. You will be here when I get home later, right?”

  Ryder had planned on staying home. Staying away from the club. But then of course, God was amused by men who made plans. “Maybe” was all he committed to and she smiled tightly, shook her head and walked inside.

  He returned to admiring the city below, teeming with life. With humanity. And, for a moment, he thought he could hear the deep, rumbling laughter of the God who had burdened him with this existence and who had brought Diana into his hell.

  Ryder cursed under his breath and banged his fist sharply against the brick. Pain radiated through his hand, but not enough to dissuade him.

  He pushed off from the wall, rubbed at his cheek and wondered what kind of wound he’d suffer tonight.

  Chapter 13

  The Lair was as busy as the night before. Maybe even busier.

  As Diana and David had walked up to the club, early in the night, the line was already quite long. Arm in arm, they strolled to the end of the queue, just another couple anxious to get in. As they waited for admission, they leaned close to each other, looking for all the world like lovers sharing a private talk.

  There was movement in the line suddenly as the doors to the club finally opened and the bouncers started taking money and stamping hands. Diana and David shuffled along in the crowd, all the time watching for anything unusual. Once inside they headed straight to the bar. The bartender from the other night was on duty once more. He sneered at them as they approached. “You two still playing games?”

  Diana nodded at him as David slipped an arm around her waist. “Want to join us?”

  “You know he’s not my type, sweetheart,” David said pointedly, and motioned with his hand to an attractive Asian woman who was walking their way.

  Diana turned and shot a smile at the other agent as she sidled up to them at the bar. “Carly,” she said, and embraced the woman, then led her onto the dance floor while David hung back.

  The band had just started to play, something loud with a driving bass beat. Diana released Carly’s hand, but edged close to her to dance, moving suggestively to the heavy, pounding rhythm of the music.

  As she gyrated, Diana glanced around. David was scrutinizing them. Behind his shoulder, the bartender had lost interest and turned his attention to the sudden rush of patrons clamoring for drinks. She continued to dance, the other agent matching her movements, until, slowly, a crowd formed around them—men hoping to be chosen to join the twosome. One of the guys was a familiar face from last night and Diana wandered toward him, thinking that his continued interest was suspicious. Perhaps the killer would establish a rapport over several nights. Create a level of trust that would make his victim share a drink. A drug-laced drink that wouldn’t kick in until she had voluntarily left with him.

  Diana placed herself close to the man, her back to him. A few seconds later, he moved, his front brushing her back as they shifted to the beat of the music. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him what she hoped was an enticing smile. He grinned and eased his arm around her bare midriff.

  His hand was damp. The skin of his palm soft. He clearly didn’t work with his hands. Unlike Ryder, she thought, whose hands were hard and rough and…She stiffened against the suspect and forced away memories of Ryder’s touch.

  Hard to do since he could be up there somewhere, watching. Either in his office or on the catwalks. Or down in the crowd, heading toward her…But somehow she knew that if he was at the club, she would have sensed him.

  And he wasn’t there.

  So she forced Ryder from her mind and gave her attention to the suspect with whom she was dancing.

  Ryder paced back and forth in his office, cursing his need. Cursing her for intriguing him so.

  She was down there in the crowd. He hadn’t seen her yet, but he had smelled her as he had slipped into the club through a back door. Her scent had made him harden, instantly.

  Somehow he tamed his urges and limited himself to standing by the windows of his office. Finding her took very little time. She and another woman were surrounded by a group of men whose tongues nearly hung out of their mouths, drooling like the dogs they were. But he wasn’t much better, maybe worse. After all, he’d taken his first bite. And far from being satisfied, he wanted another.

  Diana was dancing with one attractive man who had his arm against the expanse of skin exposed by her cropped T-shirt. The soft cotton of the top clung to her. Tonight she wore black leather pants that lovingly hugged every inch of her shapely hips and legs.

  Lord, how he ached to run his hands across her skin and all that leather. Insane, he told himself as he pushed away from the window and started pacing again. Back and forth, back and forth like a caged animal. But he couldn’t be contained for long.

  He stalked back to the window and stood there like a man possessed, his need for her the only thing he could think of. What normal, red-blooded man wouldn’t want her? Only, he wasn’t a man, he reminded himself as he stood there, waiting. Watching her like an animal watched its prey. Imagining and aching, the way a man did for the woman he wanted.

  Both sides of him in a war that neither could win.

  He stalked down to the main level of the club and paused by the edge of the crowd to take a deep, steadying breath. A mistake. It just intensified the smell of her, awakening all of his senses. Bringing his body to painful life. He curbed those urges as he eased through the crowd and finally reached Diana.

  She stopped moving when she saw him. The man with her also stilled, glancing at Ryder. He puffed up his chest as if to warn Ryder away.

  Ryder laughed harshly and kept on coming. “May I?” he asked, although it was clear from his tone that there could be only one answer.

  Something inside Diana wanted to refuse his continued pursuit, only�
��A part of her, the one she hated to acknowledge, wanted him to touch her again. Perhaps going with him might goad the killer somehow. Might make the psychopath want to punish her and make her the next victim.

  Diana turned and laid a hand on the chest of her partner. Forcing a smile, she begged his indulgence. “We have something to finish. Could I see you later?”

  The man glared at Ryder but smiled at her and stepped away, brushing past Ryder with a little shove of his shoulder. In her earpiece, Diana heard David instruct another agent to follow. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Carly’s inquiring gaze. Diana signaled her colleague, and as the woman moved into the crowd to find another partner, Diana turned her attention to Ryder. “Haven’t you had enough?”

  He reached out and bracketed her waist with his hands. The band began to play a slow song and Diana wondered if he’d somehow arranged it. His wicked grin confirmed it. “You don’t leave anything to chance, do you?”

  “Shut up and dance,” he replied, and eased her close, giving her no choice but to lay her hands along his shoulders as they swayed to the music. “If you try anything again—”

  “Shh,” he whispered into the ear without the wire, and gently stroked her waist with his hands. “I just want to hold you. Nothing else,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  Holding her was already too much, Diana thought, and swallowed hard. It was wrong to have it feel so good. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t touching him, warming from the contact. She tightened her hands on his shoulders, and he shifted his hands, moving one to the small of her back and the other between them. Then he eased her away slightly.

  Diana gave him a puzzled look until he rested his palm on her collarbone and, with his thumb, soothed the purpling mark near her neck that was still sensitive. Especially to his touch.

  She sucked in a breath, but not from pain. The sensation of his thumb sent a blast of desire racing through her. “Ryder—”

  “Can I make it better?” He didn’t wait for her answer. He bent his head and laid his lips against the bruise, kissed her gently.