She folded her hands over her desk and gave me a once-over.
“The disguise was more convincing with the wig,” I said, realizing too late that she didn’t care if my side mission had been botched by wardrobe. Hell, she was probably glad it had gone up in flames.
“Sit down.” Her lethal calm was unsettling.
The command was easy enough, so I did, claiming one of the plush, leather chairs in front of her desk. Roman stayed in the doorway, his hands folded behind his back like a good little soldier.
“What were you doing at Bleeders tonight?” Vanessa asked.
“I haven’t found a third harem donor yet, so I thought I’d grab a quick bite.”
“You know you’re on their blacklist.”
“That’s why I dressed up for the occasion.” I waved a hand down at my blouse and shiny pants.
“Don’t bullshit me, Skye.” Vanessa’s chest heaved, the only sign that she was on the verge of murdering me. “If I find out that you’re still working Scarlett’s case, I’m going to put in a request with the duke to transfer you out of state.”
I bit my tongue, remembering my promise to Roman. Telling Vanessa that I could do whatever the hell I damn well pleased while I was off the clock would not improve my situation. I’d seen her put another agent through a wall for less.
She watched me, anticipating my rebuttal. My silence was not well received.
“We don’t become Blood Vice agents to serve our own purposes,” she said, launching into the familiar sermon about duty and submission.
I refrained from rolling my eyes. The lecture would have been more intimidating if I hadn’t survived three months of having her sire for a drill sergeant at the bat cave. I felt Roman’s heated gaze lick across my skin, begging me to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t something I was very adept at. But I tried.
I pinched my lips together and focused on something else, pushing the baited slurs Vanessa preached at me to the back of my mind. I’d stew over all of that later. Maybe with a cup of Mandy’s blood.
I hated to ask the girl for an extra serving this close to the new moon, especially since it was a micromoon, but Collins’ human body definitely couldn’t handle giving up more right now. I was stuffing him with steak and leafy greens every chance I got. I’d even convinced him to start taking an extra iron supplement, but he drew the line at offal stew.
Mandy had liked the dish. She claimed it was better than stray cat, which I was counting as a compliment, considering how long it had taken to wean her off that particular snack. Although, I hadn’t spotted many felines in the neighborhood lately, which led me to believe her fasting was more out of necessity than discipline. Ah, well. We all had our vices.
In three days, the moon would hit the farthest point away from Earth in its orbit. Mandy and all shifters who relied on the moon for their abilities would be at their weakest. The local wolves in law enforcement that Mandy had been spending more and more time with were planning some remote winter camping trip for the occasion. Hibernating in a cave or some nonsense.
I shouldn’t have been so bitter. Mandy deserved to have a close-knit gang of her own kind. She’d more than earned it, and she’d been through a hell far worse than mine. Still…it would have been nice to find that kind of camaraderie within my new lot, too.
The only other vamp I’d connected with on a personal level had been killed just to spite me. I couldn’t imagine that made the rest of them eager to get in line to befriend me.
There was a certain…shyness I was having a hard time overcoming, too. I was a sireless vampling who drank blood from a cup. The undead equivalent of a virgin who couldn’t drive. Ugh. As if.
The thought of admitting that to another vamp was humiliating. Certainly not a good conversation starter.
“Are you listening to a damn thing I’m saying, Skye?” Vanessa snapped, crashing my wandering train of thought.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed. I couldn’t tell if she believed me or not, but Roman definitely didn’t. He cleared his throat, signaling me to say something more. I just didn’t know what.
“I’m…sorry. You’re right. I was…impulsive. This is a team, and I should follow your lead.” The words felt stiff and robotic coming out of my mouth, but they seemed to appease Vanessa.
“Good. Then you can start by packing a bag,” she said. “You’re leaving tomorrow night for Spero Heights with Roman. We have a new lead on Ursula.”
“Spero Heights? Mandy has some connections down there.”
Vanessa shook her head. “I’ve already approved her vacation time for the micromoon conclave.”
“What about Collins?” I asked.
“His last blood test was flagged.” She picked up a file from her desk and waved it at me. “His red cell count is down, and so is his blood pressure. He’s getting a few days off, too. I can’t very well have agents fainting on the job.”
“What am I supposed to do about—” I bit my bottom lip and heat flooded my face.
Begging for blood was a vampling tell. Experienced vamps just…knew how to manage their thirst. They could go a day or two without losing their minds, and they had connections for whenever they traveled, or for when one of their harem donors fell ill.
Vanessa hiked an eyebrow and frowned at me. “Spero Heights is exclusively supernatural, and it has a thriving vampire community. If your mutt can’t tell you the best place to get a drink, then just ask one of the locals to direct you to the Midnight District.”
I turned my attention to Roman. “Have you ever been there?”
“Once.” His brow furrowed. “It’s been a few years, and I was only passing through to pick up a suspect who had sought refuge there. The werewolf on their city council called to turn him in, if I remember correctly.”
Vanessa nodded. “Selena Chase. She’s the closest thing you’ll find to a sheriff in Spero Heights. The mayor, Graham Pierce, is a vampire and a former Blood Vice agent. And Dr. Christian Delph, the last member of the small-town trio, is something else entirely. He sees things before they happen.”
“A psychic?” I scoffed.
Vanessa didn’t even blink. “Yes.”
“I’ve heard there are other…things that live there, too.”
Vanessa made a face at my word choice. “The supernaturals that live in Spero Heights are quite diverse, but the founders are fiercely protective and more than proficient at maintaining the peace. Even if they were not, you’re a Blood Vice agent. Keeping the peace among supernaturals is in your job description.”
Heat crawled up my neck and into my face. “Yes, ma’am.”
She dismissed me with a nod directed at her door, where Roman waited. A small grin hooked up one side of his mouth as we made our way down the hall and back outside to the parking lot. His face broke into a broader smile once we were tucked inside the SUV.
“What are you so smug about?” I asked, clicking my seatbelt in place.
Roman turned to face me, eyes smoldering. I didn’t have to be a psychic to know what was on his mind. He had plans for this trip. Plans that involved me.
* * * * *
Mandy was waiting for me in the kitchen when Roman dropped me off at my house. She’d showered and changed into a set of flannel, paw-print pajamas Laura had gifted her for Christmas. They’d even come with a pair of matching fuzzy slippers that looked like clawed wolf toes.
“What’s the word? Are we fired?” she asked around a mouthful of Lucky Charms.
“Nope.” I kicked off my heels and plopped down on the barstool beside her. “I’m leaving for Spero Heights tomorrow evening. With Roman.”
Mandy dropped her spoon into her bowl, sloshing milk onto the counter. “What? Of course, this would happen when I’m on vacation. It’s so unfair. I know that town better than either of you.”
Somewhere between escaping the Scarlett Inn and happening upon Raphael as he murdered me, Mandy had spent a month at Orpheus House, a supernatural rehab ce
nter for supernaturals in Spero Heights.
I nodded grimly. “What’s the Midnight District?”
Her nose curled. “Bloodsucker central. I guess that’s where you’ll be staying, huh?”
“How do they pull that off without any humans?”
She gave me a patronizing glare. “They have a few humans—well, they’re human enough. Plus, you don’t seem to mind my blood.”
“Right. Good point.” I stuffed my hands down into the pockets of my jacket and pulled out my fake ID and the wad of hundred-dollar bills, depositing them on the counter. Then I shrugged out of the jacket and draped it over the back of my stool.
Mandy watched me as she crammed another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. Her brow creased as if she were contemplating how to best advise me. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Some of the girls I know down there set up a…café.” She pressed her lips together, revealing her disapproval and the fact that the place was most certainly not a café. “There aren’t a ton of job opportunities for mutts around those parts,” she explained. “There’s a wolf bar called the Crimson Moon, run by the town alpha and his witchy girlfriend. But they’re already over-employed. They took in a lot of the Raymore Clan rejects from Kansas City.”
“I get it,” I said. “In a little town, you make your own work, and it’s easy to fall back on what you know.”
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “At least the girls are off the dope and not being abused.”
“And they’re getting paid, right?” I gave her an apologetic smile. “Any idea what the going rate is for a wolfy latte?”
She barked a sharp laugh. “I imagine it will be on the house for you. You were the first friendly face they saw at the barn raid. They won’t be forgetting that anytime soon.” Her softening expression told me she wouldn’t either.
“Is there anything else I should know about this place?” I asked. “Any weird creatures I should be wary of?”
“You mean besides the bloodsuckers?” She tilted her bowl up to slurp down some milk. “Actually, yeah. I hear the poltergeist at Orpheus House has gotten extra unhinged since the doc found himself a lady friend.”
“Poltergeist?” I snorted. When Mandy didn’t laugh with me, the room began to spin. “I’m out. No way.”
“Calm down. It’s not like she’s killed anyone,” she said. “Maybe gave them a little heart failure or a concussion—”
“This time last year, I didn’t believe in ghosts.” My voice quivered in time with my blood vision as it crept in around the edges of my sight. “I didn’t believe in vampires or werewolves either.”
Mandy grinned. “And let’s face it. Your life was totally boring.”
“Whatever.” I folded my arms and scowled at her. “I was a cop, on my way to becoming a detective. My life was the opposite of boring.”
“Let’s see.” Mandy ticked off a list on the fingers of one hand. “You had no love life. No friends. You weren’t even talking to your sister—”
“That was all by choice!”
“Was it?” She blinked at me. “You were willfully miserable?”
“Are you saying that you are happy about being turned?” I snapped.
Mandy inhaled a sharp breath. “It totally sucked—”
“See!”
“—at the time. Sure.” She eased back in her stool and frowned. “But I’d go through it all over again if it meant being where I am now.”
“Really?” I huffed, amazed by her confession.
“Yeah, really. I was homeless and hooked on heroin before Scarlett’s henchmen snatched me off the streets.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And if I can be grateful for that, I don’t see why you’re having such a problem with it.”
“Because however boring you think my life was, I wanted it. I’d worked hard for it.” I slid off the barstool, snatching my jacket as I went. “I have to pack.”
There was no way I was asking her for a second helping of blood now. Not if it meant admitting that I was glad for what had happened to me. I wasn’t. I couldn’t be.
I was a vampire because I’d failed as a detective. I’d failed my partner, too. And now I was here, and he was dead. Fighting crime—especially the sort of crime Blood Vice handled—was the best I could do to honor his memory. That was the most productive thing I could manage in my…condition.
Shame kept me from appreciating the transition beyond that most days. Of course, the lifeblood bond with Roman complicated things, pushing my gratitude and shame to new, terrifying heights.
Willfully miserable, indeed.
Chapter Four
Roman picked me up at six o’clock Monday evening, an hour after sunset. I’d never really been fond of winter, but as a vampire, I appreciated the longer nights. At the peak of summer, I only saw nine hours of nightfall. It had made for a burdensome work schedule. Tonight would last fourteen hours. Three of which would be spent on I-44 with Roman.
The SUV was too warm. I’d stripped out of my jacket and suit blazer before I realized that had likely been Roman’s plan. His eager eyes strayed from the highway to trace my exposed arms and neck. I gave him a berating scowl.
“Eyes on the road, Agent Knight.”
He grinned and slowly pulled his gaze away from me. The conceited prick.
I hated that Roman knew how much he affected me. Of course, I knew I affected him, too. That only seemed to make matters worse. My resistance was beyond futile, and with every look he gave me, however self-satisfied or arrogant, I felt my resolve chipping away.
After I’d returned from the bat cave, we’d finally addressed the lifeblood bond between us. Well, as much as we could address it with Roman’s limited conversation skills. It all boiled down to this. He wanted a fleeting, passionate affair, and I wanted stability. Normalcy. Some small morsel of commitment.
I didn’t need a ring tomorrow or anything so desperate. I just…didn’t want to hide from the world. And if I were being honest with myself, I didn’t want to share him—any part of him—with Vanessa. And certainly not behind her back. That didn’t seem like such a tall order.
So we’d done nothing. Sure, we had to work together. And there had been a few…indiscretions. We’d slipped up and shared a feverish kiss or three. Which was maybe why he’d become such a smug asshole.
“Tell me more about this lead,” I demanded.
“All work and no play.” Roman clicked his tongue. “Makes Jenna a dull girl.”
“You’re quoting horror flicks at me now?” I made a face at him. “Charming.”
“I could quote other things.” His eyes were the color of polar ice, yet they smoldered as hot as any flame. “Come slowly, Eden. Lips unused to thee.”
“Seriously?”
“Too dated?” His grin sharpened. “How’s this? ‘I got plans to put my hands in places I never seen.’”
My nostrils flared. I turned to look out my window and hide my frustration. “You should have stuck with Dickinson.”
“They were both advocates for taking it slow. And I intend to.”
I sighed. “So, this lead...”
“Right.” Roman’s tone shifted naturally, no hint of dejection. He wasn’t done with me, but he would relent for now. “Footage from a gas station surveillance camera taken two days ago showed a known harem donor of Ursula’s fueling up a Chevy Avalanche.”
“Who’s it registered to?” I asked.
“Benjamin Macaulay. Owner of Nightshade and Morning Glory, an occult shop in Spero Heights.”
“Has he reported the truck stolen?”
“No.” Roman paused to squint up at a sign hanging over the highway. “Could be he doesn’t know it’s gone. But if he’s involved with Ursula somehow, we don’t want to alert him just yet.”
“So we’re starting at this shop of his?”
“After we check in with the council.”
I bit my bottom lip. “Any clue what flavor of strange this guy is?”
“That’s one of the questions on the list.” Roman gave me a sidelong glance. “Though we’ll be more diplomatic about how we word it.”
“What did the background check turn up?”
“Nothing of consequence.” He shook his head. “Macaulay may be using an assumed name. Or he could very well be old enough to not have a birth certificate on file. A lot of supernaturals don’t.”
“Great.”
Silence filled the cab, hanging between us like a double-dog dare. I knew if I didn’t say something soon, Roman would take it as an invitation to fire up his flirting game again. The only way I knew how to dissuade him from that was to anger him or ask personal questions.
There was nothing he seemed to hate more than opening a window for me into his past. It bothered me. I wanted to know him—to really know him. Otherwise, it felt too much like I was pining for a total stranger.
I glanced across the cab, catching him ogling me. “What about you? Do you have a birth certificate?”
He made a noise in the back of his throat and looked ahead, focusing on the highway with a scowl. “Of course I have a birth certificate. I’m not that old.”
“What year does it say?”
“Does it matter?”
“I’m just curious.” I shrugged. “Wondering what happens when the Guinness Book of World Records comes knocking when we don’t die in a timely fashion.”
“You’ll be issued a death certificate long before that happens. I already have one,” Roman said, surprising me. “All of my personal finances and accounts are filtered through an alias with Blood Vice, but once I’m turned and initiated into House Sorano, I’ll be set up with the family trust.”
“Oh.”
We both bristled at the mention of Vanessa’s house. That was the catalyst for our difference in relationship goals. Roman didn’t want more to come of this thing between us because he had a future that didn’t include me. He couldn’t give that up, and how could I ask him to?
Blood Vice (Book 4): Blood Dolls Page 3