Recognizing the Agency number got his pulse going. The fact they were calling him on his night off instead of his brother, Taven, who was on duty, probably meant something important was going down.
He answered, simultaneously jabbing at the down-volume button on the TV. Nobody needed to know he’d been watching reruns of The Vampire Diaries. For research purposes, of course. It was important to know what humans thought about his kind.
“Roric.” He amped up the masculinity to prove to himself the show wasn’t affecting him.
The smooth, feminine voice of the Agency secretary purred through the line. “Hey Roric, how’s it going? It’s Serena. I had a great time last week.”
Roric stifled a groan. He should’ve known better than to ask out someone he had to work with. It made for a lot of awkward moments when he had no desire for a second date. The pool of available female vampires was getting pretty shallow, though, and Serena’s seductive voice made his balls go tight every time he talked to her. Too bad he knew after one date that the relationship had nowhere to go but up in flames.
It’s not that she wasn’t pretty. He got hard just thinking about those big tits squeezed together till they spilled out the top of those low-cut tops she liked to wear. And that little pout she made with those thick, full lips made him imagine what they’d look like wrapped around his dick.
But for all the sexiness she exuded, there was something about her that turned him off. Maybe it was the way she constantly asked him if he liked her hair or her outfit or her makeup, like his opinion was the only thing that gave her any sense of self worth. Or maybe it was the way she couldn’t pick out her own sandwich toppings without his input.
Most guys probably liked a girl that made them feel like the king of her world, but not Roric. They reminded him too much of his mother. And that was exactly the opposite of what he was looking for in a mate.
“Hey Serena. What’s up?” Short and to the point. No sense leading her on. Hopefully she’d get the hint without him having to spell it out to her.
He could practically hear her pout through the phone line. “There’s a man on the line calling about a suspicious vampire. I thought you’d like to speak to him.”
Hot damn. This night might hold some promise, after all. He knew Serena only called him because she was hoping he’d ask her out again, but he was anxious for something to do. His nights off only emphasized how empty his life was. “Put him on.”
“Uh, okay.” Roric waited for the clicks that would tell him he’d been transferred, but they didn’t come right away, like Serena was debating whether or not to say something else.
He stayed quiet, hoping she was too demure to press for another date. A few seconds later, he heard a click.
“This is Agent Roric Asheron,” he barked out, irritation at Serena hardening his voice.
“Oh, uh, okay, hi. Uh, my name’s Gray, Gray Grady. Uh, I’m a bartender at West End Taproom. I’m calling about a suspicious vampire.” The guy sounded like his balls were drawn up to his belly button.
Roric eased back on the fierceness a bit. “Sure. Thanks for calling. Tell me what’s going on.”
The barkeep’s story didn’t really merit attention. It wasn’t a crime for vamps to schmooze with women in bars, it was only illegal for them to drink from them outside of the blood clinic. Of course, it happened all the time, especially now that vampiress were out of the closet and didn’t have to kill the humans they drank from to keep their kind a secret. All they had to do was find a willing donor who wouldn’t turn them in to the Agency.
But Roric was bored, and it wouldn’t hurt to let the vamp know he was being watched. He wanted to make sure that vamps and humans alike knew that the Agency meant business, especially since he was the head of the operation.
Roric slid on some jeans, shoved his feet into his boots, then strapped his leather holster over his tee shirt and patted the loops to make sure everything was in place — a Glock filled with silver bullets that would knock a fleeing vampire down and burn like hell till his body pushed them out or they were dug out, a wooden stake with a sharp tip for quickly incapacitating an unruly vamp, a pair of heavy-duty handcuffs. None of those things would keep a vamp under control forever, but long enough to get him behind bars.
The old style of vamp justice might’ve had a take-no-prisoners philosophy, but the modern Vampire Enforcement Agency followed a few more protocols.
The fall night didn’t warrant an extra layer, especially for vamps who weren’t very sensitive to temperature. But since the place sounded kind of classy, Roric slipped on a thin, black leather jacket to keep his weapons out of sight. He didn’t bother looking in a mirror. Not because of some crazy myth that vamps didn’t have a reflection, but because he gelled his longish, brown hair into place every morning with enough product to keep it that way until he scrubbed it clean with a scrub brush. Not that rogue vamps or scared humans cared about his hair, but he liked when he had everything in place and under his control.
Roric grabbed his car keys off the counter and headed out to his Agency-issued Charger Pursuit. The human police had the right idea when it came to the beefed-up vehicle. Roric liked the fast acceleration, quick braking, and durability, and his broad, vampire physique appreciated the roomy interior. He hopped in and gunned it over to West End, the bright white VEA logo on the side of the car immunizing him to speed limits and other traffic laws.
He’d never been to the Taproom before, but his GPS led him straight to the high-end bar with the name in gold lettering on a black awning. A long stretch of glass across the front glowed with golden light, but the tint preserved the privacy of the people inside. Roric pulled his Charger into the nearest parking space and headed for the door.
His nose picked up a whiff of vampire that no human would notice, but it was obvious to him. He wound through the tables, following a trail, trying to make his large body less menacing, but the other customers still gawked at him. The trail stopped at the bar, and the human male behind the bar looked like the voice on the phone sounded.
Roric pulled a badge from his pocket and flashed it to the bartender. “VEA Agent Roric Asheron. You the one who called?”
The dude’s mouth flopped open, but nothing came out at first. Eventually, he squawked out something that sounded affirmative.
Roric’s nose told him a vampire had been there, but when he scanned the space for him he didn’t see one. “Where’d the vamp go?”
The man gulped and rubbed a wine glass with a rag till it squeaked. “Uh, yeah, sorry if I wasted your time. He left a few minutes ago.”
“With the woman?”
“No, I guess the woman caught a bad vibe, because she went to the ladies’ room and never came back. There’s a back exit, so she must’ve gone out that way. When the vampire realized she wasn’t coming back, he took off.”
“This is where they were sitting?” Roric pointed to the barstool that smelled like fresh vamp.
The bartender’s eyes bugged out, and he nodded. “How’d you know that?”
Roric tapped the side of his nose with a finger then let it tell him the rest of the story. A fresher trail lead straight from the bar to the front door. He followed it outside. Roric expected it to lead to a parking space, but instead, it went straight to the road and turned to the left like the vamp had been following a car on foot.
The undercurrent of anger that tainted the scent told Roric the vampire wasn’t happy about the loss of his quarry. Roric headed back to his car and jumped in, lowering the window so he could follow the scent trail.
He barked out a laugh when it turned into a cemetery. What was this, a cheesy horror movie? The powerful rumble of the Charger’s engine would attract too much attention even if he killed the lights, so Roric ditched his vehicle and took off on foot, following the vampire’s scent till he spotted a vehicle parked a dozen yards away. A few yards from that, a man and a woman stood in front of a row of gravestones. Roric hid behind a tree, assessing
the situation.
Moonlight reflected off the woman’s pale, blonde hair, a bright halo in the darkness. Roric’s vision was good enough he could easily see the rest of her, too, even though she was wearing all black and the male’s dark-clothed body was wrapped around her. They were making out like horny teenagers with no respect for the dead bodies buried beneath them.
Until the woman screeched and pulled away from him.
The argument that followed froze Roric’s blood. Not only had the vampire fed off the human, but he’d injected her with his venom — an offense punishable by death for the vampire, and a death sentence for the human, as well.
The feisty, little woman slapped the male like he was a grabby boy not a dangerous vampire, a response that would inspire rage in any normal vamp. Then she turned and bolted like she thought she had a chance of outrunning him. How did she have the willpower to do that? The pain of the venom alone should’ve overwhelmed her, and the immediate craving for vampire blood to complete the change should’ve driven her straight to his vein.
Roric launched himself towards them, intent on tackling the vampire before he could attack the woman. But his heavy footfalls gave him away immediately. The vamp swung his head around, and his eyes widened at the sight of Roric plowing towards him at inhuman speed. He must’ve caught on quick, because instead of heading for the woman, he took off in the other direction.
Roric followed him, his massive body flying through the air like a bat out of hell. Maybe that was where the myth came from that vampires turned into bats. He was faster than most vampires he knew thanks in part to hours of speed and strength training. He could tackle the vamp quicker than he could pull out his gun and fire at him.
But then he saw the woman go down, her head smacking into a dark granite tombstone with a gruesome crunch. Her agonized cry stopped Roric in his tracks. He whipped his head her way, giving the vampire just enough time to disappear out of sight.
Warring impulses tore his body in both directions. If he ran after the vamp, he might still have a chance of catching him, but the vampire knew the consequences of his crime, and he’d lead Roric on a mad chase to avoid being caught.
The woman, on the other hand, could be seriously injured, and the venom in her blood was a ticking time bomb that wouldn’t save her unless she completed the transformation. There was no hope for her anymore. Roric should focus on catching the rogue. But something about her tortured groan wouldn’t let him leave her alone.
Cursing his decision even as he made it, Roric veered towards the injured woman.
Chapter 5
Roric yanked his phone out of his back pocket, not to dial 911, but to call his brother.
“Hey bro, you looking for some excitement? Did you wear out your wanker already?” Taven’s jocular tone felt jarringly inappropriate for the grim situation, even though his words were true.
Roric ignored Taven’s taunt and spit out the details like machine gun bullets. “I’m in the cemetery on 5th Street, chasing a rogue that followed a woman from the West End Taproom, but I lost him. She’s injured and needs help. He tried to turn her.”
“Dude! I’m in. What’s he look like?”
Roric scanned his memory for images of the vampire. Even though all his attention had been on the woman, his eidetic vampire memory missed nothing. “Trim, 30-ish. Black hair, dark dress clothes. Heading west on foot.”
“I’m on it, bro.” The line went dead. Taven would be there in minutes, no matter where he was at.
Roric dropped to his knees on the damp grass beside the woman who lay facedown, her head on a gravestone. Trim legs sheathed in black nylon splayed out beneath a short, black skirt. Long, wavy, blonde hair cloaked her back, hiding most of her black jacket. Wet, sticky blood coated the side of her head and streaked down some of the locks, painting them bright red.
He carefully moved aside some of her soft, silky hair so he could see the side of her face. Blood stained her pale skin and dripped over her closed eyelids. She was still breathing, but barely.
Roric was breathing just fine, though. Damn that advanced sense of smell. The scent of her blood swirled in the air, an intoxicating aroma that made his heart pound and his mouth fill with saliva. He didn’t have to breath; it was a tracking tool more than anything. He could stop the airflow, shielding himself from the enticing aroma, but his body refused to cooperate.
Based on what he’d been told, the only thing that tasted better than the fresh, hot blood of a human was the blood from a vampire’s mate. Roric wasn’t mated, but he couldn’t imagine anything tasting better than this woman smelled.
Of course, he’d never tasted human blood, either. It wasn’t that he didn’t have access. Vampires were allowed to drink from the humans who volunteered at the blood clinic. As the son of the head council member, he could have his pick of any human volunteer in the clinic. Taven sure took advantage of the position.
But Roric despised the whole idea. The thought of those humans offering a vein to some random vampire just for the erotic rush, or worse, the novelty, turned Roric’s stomach. Vampires had no business drinking from humans when vamp blood was a perfectly acceptable source of nutrition. As far as Roric was concerned, vamps had no reason to interact with humans at all. And he was thrilled when the council elected him leader of the agency created to police offending vampires.
But with his mouth inches away from a wound spurting hot blood, craving flared in every cell of his body, overwhelming him with desire. His whole body shook with need. Nothing had ever smelled so tempting.
The next thing he knew, his tongue was swiping at her cheek, licking the blood from her face. The taste exploded in his mouth, more delicious even than the scent. Out of his mind with desperation for more, Roric licked again and again till he’d cleaned her skin. Finally, the salty taste of her flesh jolted him from his blood-crazed delirium.
What was he doing? He’d prided himself on his clean record. Had he resisted temptation all these years only to lose control over a half-dead woman who’d just been attacked by a rogue vampire? Roric was so stunned by his actions, he couldn’t even reconcile them in his mind. He was here to help this woman, not feed off her!
The woman’s thin arm flapped limply to her side as Roric turned her onto her back to get a better look at her injury. What he noticed instead was how beautiful she was. Her porcelain skin seemed deathly pale in the cold moonlight. Was that from blood loss, or was it her natural color? Her feminine features were so delicate, one touch from his powerful hand would shatter her bones like glass.
Her eyes were closed, and Roric resisted the urge to lift her lids even though he was desperate to know what color they were. In her condition, they’d probably be clouded and soulless, but Roric imagined them shining with life. Her glossy lips were painted with blood red lipstick that made it look like she’d been sucking on a vein. Why was that so appealing? Even passed out and covered in blood, she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
But the gash in her head was deep, and the blood flow showed no signs of slowing. Even if he called an ambulance, they couldn’t save her. Unless she drank from a vampire and completed the transformation, she’d be dead in a few hours, if she didn’t bleed to death first.
As her skin grew even whiter and her heartbeat faltered, Roric mourned the human he’d never met. She was so young, so beautiful, and the strength that enabled her to strike a vampire and run away, despite the venom coursing through her veins and the bloodlust she must have been feeling — the whole world would suffer from the loss of her.
Emotions raged in his body — fury, grief, and lust. His mind was spinning out of control. And the blood pooling on the ground beneath her was so tantalizing Roric couldn’t help himself. The compulsion to drink was too strong.
Crazed with anguish, he crouched over her body like a wild animal protecting its prey. A trail of blood ran from the puncture wounds in her neck. He licked it up, groaning at the salty mix of blood and sweat, then latched h
is mouth over the wounds and began to drink.
The hot flow was even more intoxicating than the blood Roric had lapped from her skin. Even though her pulse was weak, blood still trickled out from her neck. He sucked greedily, but soon he found himself drawing the blood from deep in her veins when the flow couldn’t keep up with his consumption. When a hard pull drew barely enough to coat his tongue, Roric tore himself away with a gasp.
No! She was too precious to lose! Now that he’d had her, he was hooked, an addict after one taste. There was one way he could keep her, but was he willing to go against everything he believed to do it? It would be the worst thing he’d ever done, but it would save her, even as it ended her life.
His mind clouded in a whirl of lust and need, and the monster inside him took over. Roric ripped open his wrist with his teeth and shoved it to her mouth, letting his blood flow in between her lips.
“Come on, come on!” He slapped lightly at her cheek when her body remained lifeless, smearing blood across her lips. Was she too far gone?
“Drink for me…” A new pain pierced his heart when he realized he didn’t even know her name. Her life couldn’t end this way, as a nameless victim bleeding out in a cemetery.
Why had she come here? The vehicle nearby was presumably hers since the vampire had approached on foot. Driving in a car, she wouldn’t leave a scent trail for him to follow. All she had to do was keep driving, making random turns till the vampire lost sight of her. Typically, a vampire would lose interest quickly, and he wouldn’t bother to search for her after that. But now that Roric has sampled her scent, it was obvious why the vamp had pursued her so relentlessly.
Did she even know she was being followed? Maybe the cemetery wasn’t a hiding place for her but her intended destination. Had she come here to pay her respects? A thirst for knowledge roared to life in Roric’s brain, almost as strong as his craving for her blood. His mouth no longer on her vein, the bloodlust had waned just enough for rational thoughts to force themselves to the forefront of his mind.
Compelled by the Vampire: Vampire Enforcement Agency Series Book 1 Page 3