“Orlando, do you remember the case where a group home counselor was murdered aboot a year and a half ago?” Zander asked, redirecting the conversation.
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Why? What’s up?”
“Just curious. Kyran and I ran across the widow tonight,” Zander replied.
“She seems like a pleasant girl. Hasn’t given the department any problems. Did she say something?” Orlando asked.
“Nay. We didna talk to her. Skirm were responsible, aye?” Zander wanted vengeance for the beautiful female.
He may never have her, but he would do this for her. There was severe pain in her clear blue eyes that he hated to see.
“Yeah, their magic was all over the body and scene. Why?” Orlando asked, his eyebrows scrunched and mouth twisted.
Zander understood his warrior’s confusion. There was no reason for him to scrutinize the case.
“Did you locate the ones responsible?” Zander sipped his scotch as he looked around for the provocative scent.
“No. Santiago and I didn’t take the case. We didn’t see the need. You know how hard it is to locate one particular skirm,” Orlando said, a crease marring his forehead.
“I want you two to take the case and uncover the one responsible. Reopen it if necessary,” Zander ordered. His warrior was smart enough not to question him and nodded his agreement. “Good. Now, has anyone seen Lena?”
Orlando chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. “No, Liege. I’ve been too busy talking shop with you.”
Another wave of honeysuckle reached Zander and his body responded to the delectable fragrance. His cock hardened immediately, and damn if his fangs didn’t shoot out of his gums. He ran his tongue over the teeth that had become recalcitrant and was stunned at this reaction. It must be because he hadn’t had sex in months.
He continued his search for Lena, scanning the large dance floor. Numerous colored lights and lasers bounced from the steel ceiling rafters onto the stained cement. He didn’t see the human’s heart-shaped face among the crowd of gyrating, sweaty bodies. He scanned both bars. She wasn’t there, either. He rested his arms on the back of the chairs next to him and looked toward the hall of private rooms. Nothing.
He shook his head and reminded himself he needed to look for Lena, not the human. That didn’t stop him from opening his senses and telepathy. He picked up nothing of the human in the club. The scent hadn’t come from her. He felt a bone-deep disappointment at that. But why?
New voices brought his attention back to the table. Orlando was off with a female, and his brothers, Kyran and Bhric, had joined them. He hadn’t realized how preoccupied he’d become. Normally, he was aware of everything going on around him. He couldn’t afford to be so distracted, not with his position. He straightened in his chair and berated himself for lack of vigilance.
“No, you’re a douche-bag. An entire coven of witches wouldn’t be able to fix the mess your escapade with her would create. You would ruin the poor girl. Thank the Goddess for not gifting cambions with a vampire’s ability to erase human memories. You’d leave the entire female population of Seattle empty shells. Stay the hell away from the staff at my hospital,” Jace snapped at Rhys.
Zander wondered what he missed. Rhys smiled and threw his arm over the back of the chair next to him. Trouble was brewing behind the cambion’s kaleidoscopic eyes.
“Hmmm…vampire abilities. Hey, Bhric, I have an idea that I think you’ll like,” Rhys proposed as he sat up straighter, excitement in his every move.
“Do share,” Bhric said and smiled broadly as he leaned forward, folding his thick arms on the paint-splattered table.
Zander wanted to smack the back of his brother’s head for encouraging Rhys. They all knew better.
“It’s hard to be with human females because they notice differences about me when I fuck. So I say, we double-team the humans and you erase—”
Horror washed over Zander at what his warrior proposed. “Absolutely fucking no’! No vampire will use their power over the human mind so you can tup them. With how quickly you males go through females, we would be exposed by dawn. There are plenty of willing females in the realm,” Zander interrupted before this conversation escalated any further.
The problem was, the idea was out there and he could tell both males were churning it. Zander growled his warning, “Doona even think it, arseholes. I mean it.”
He pondered enacting a law prohibiting his subjects from using their mind control in such a manner on humans. Such abuse of power went against his beliefs. The realm and its supernaturals were better than that. They were protectors, not predators, of humans.
The sound of glass breaking caught his attention. He noticed that each of his warriors had gone into battle-mode. Across the bar, an imp was arguing with a sea demon. The pesky little demon had grabbed the transformer talisman from the sea demon, and he was now a fish-out-of-water, gasping for air. Females began shrieking at the sight of the large fish. Zander shook his head. Imps were notoriously mischievous demons, but they meant no harm. Thankfully, sea demons were also mild-mannered.
He turned away from the scene as Bhric began grumbling. “Stupid little fuckwad had to go and scare the females. Speaking of fuckwads, have we received confirmation of a new archdemon, brathair?” Bhric asked as he threw back another shot.
Zander met his brother’s gaze. He had suspected for months there was a new archdemon in town. It was to be expected after they had killed the last one but he had a suspicion whoever Lucifer sent this time was more powerful. They had encountered skirm who were better trained in combat and on organized patrols. No doubt the patrols were designed to discover the location of their compound.
“Nay, dammit. The Valkyrie and Harpies deny any knowledge. There is only rumor and conjecture,” Zander replied.
“Och, it would be good to know what we are facing. Give Killian a chance to work his magic on the computer and gather some intel,” Bhric said.
“That it would. But for tonight, put it oot of your head, brathair. Find a lass, or ten. The war will still be here in the morning,” Zander responded as he spotted Lena returning from the restroom. He had found his partner for the night. He crooked his finger at her. “Lena, join me. ‘Tis been too long since I’ve seen you.”
“Of course, mon couer,” she purred as she sashayed to his side. He looked into her dark-brown eyes, grabbed her hand and sat her across his legs. His erection returned with force. He paused in his caress of Lena’s arm when he realized the honeysuckle scent was coming from her. He picked out slightly astringent notes that told him it was a bottled fragrance as opposed to the natural tones of the human’s.
“You smell different tonight. Is that a new perfume?”
“Oui. I thought of you when I bought it. I was hoping to find you here tonight. I have missed you, mon ami. I see you are eager for me,” she whispered in his ear and started caressing his inner thigh and erection.
Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her soft hands caressing his body. It amazed him the incredible effect the perfume had on his libido.
Lena tilted her head slightly, exposing her neck to him. The movement stirred her perfume. Mmmm, addictive. He ran his teeth over her throat, anticipating sinking his fangs into her neck as he sunk his cock into her heat.
He downed the rest of his scotch, stood, and pulled Lena against his chest. Lowering his lips to hers, he relished the gentle slide of her soft lips against his.
“Backroom, now,” he ordered.
CHAPTER TWO
Zander led Lena down the long hallway. He refused to take her back to Zeum where he lived. His bed was reserved for his Fated Mate. He designed and hand-carved the four-poster bed with the guidance of his mate’s soul, and would never sully it with other females. For the past century, he used the private rooms at Confetti for his liaisons.
Even through the loud thumping music, his preternatural senses heard Lena’s heels clicking on the stained concrete floor, an
d the passionate moans of skin slapping skin through the closed doors they passed. With the erotic sounds surrounding them, anticipation thrummed through his blood. He opened the last door on the left and ushered her into the small, dimly lit room.
The cement floor was covered with a plush, black rug, silencing her heels. The walls were the same burgundy color as the hall and the only furniture in the room was a black, leather couch along one wall.
She reached for him, but he stilled her hands. He needed fast and hard right now for the physical release his body demanded, not the leisurely exploration he knew she wanted. Plus, he didn’t want to be touched by her.
Zander had her tight, blue shirt and black bra off before she could blink. Her ample breasts pressed against his chest as he pulled her into a deep kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue. With one hand, he captured her wrists and held them behind her back, pushing her breasts further into his chest.
Leaning back, he latched onto one breast and suckled her pert nipple into his mouth, squeezing her other globe with his free hand. Her nipples elongated with his attention and she arched into him, moaning. She began to sweat, releasing more of the honeysuckle scent. Damn, he loved that perfume. He wanted to buy a vat of it and bathe daily in it. His lust had never been driven so high, taking him to the edge.
She wriggled her hands free, and he shuddered when she ran her hands under his fitted, black t-shirt. Much to his dismay, the shudder was not from pleasure. Nope, no touching. He recaptured her hands and inhaled deeply, taking in the honeysuckle fragrance.
He turned her around and unzipped her black mini skirt, letting it drop to the floor. She stood there in lacy, red panties and Zander knew she craved his approval. He refused to step back and admire the view. His need was too high. He slipped his hand into her panties and found her slick and wet for him. She was always ready for him. He placed her hands on the back of the leather couch.
“Doona move your hands. Bend over.”
She knew to comply with his demands without hesitation, which is one reason she was one of his partners. He pushed her panties down her long, lean legs. She wavered on her feet as she stepped out of the lacy fabric. Zander unzipped his leather pants, freeing his cock. She spread her legs and bent over the sofa, exposing her slick channel to him.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I need you inside me, Zander. I ache for you.”
He palmed his cock and stroked it. Damn, that felt good. “You want this?” he taunted.
He didn’t want Lena to think his need meant she held any power over him. It wasn’t about her at all. In fact, he was highly disconcerted by the knowledge that it was one hundred percent about a bewitching, human female.
“Always. Fuck me. Now, mon cher.”
Lena arched and spread her legs more, presenting a better view of her wet pussy. He didn’t need to be told twice and stepped between her wide stance. Without a thought to further foreplay, he slammed into her core. She cried out, but he gave her no quarter as he began a punishing rhythm.
“You like that, Lena? You want me to fuck hard and fast?” he demanded.
“Mmmm, mon coeur, yes,” Lena hissed. She pushed back and into him so he could go deeper. “Goddess, Zander, harder. Mon grand, don’t stop!” Lena flipped her long, blond hair over her shoulder, exposing her throat to Zander.
Losing himself in the carnal pleasure and increasing his pace, his fangs slowly descended. Zander was famished, yet when he bent over to bite and feed from her, his fangs scrambled back into his gums. He cursed. His fangs had been doing this for a year and a half. Ignore it and take her body.
Not wanting to go over thoughts of his lack of ability to feed or consume any blood, he straightened and the scent of honeysuckle reached him again. His fangs lowered again. Never slowing his thrusts, he prepared to bite her flesh, only to have his fangs hide once again. Before he could become distracted by his feeding issue, she climaxed, pulsing around him. The fragrance of her perfume intensified once again, and he joined her in release.
Even before his orgasm waned, he realized the anxiety that plagued him recently had resurfaced. Now, there was an added sense of emptiness and dissatisfaction. The sexual release did nothing for him. And he still hadn’t fed which was becoming a dire situation.
A peculiar warmth rustled within his chest and he realized it was his Fated Mate’s soul. The Goddess Morrigan’s subjects were born carrying a vital part of their mate’s soul. It was exactly the reminder he needed right now.
He withdrew from Lena, stuffed his softening penis back into his pants, zipped up and pulled down his shirt. Lena sat on the sofa and spread her legs wide and began playing with herself.
“I’m still horny. I was hoping I could have a bite of you, mon cher,” she purred as she fingered her sex.
Zander’s body shivered in revulsion. Misconstruing his shiver for a sensual response, Lena placed her finger in her mouth and licked her juices. “Mmm, I’s so hungry. Come here and let me suck you.”
“Nay, lass, no’ this time. I have an emergency, and you know I never let any female feed from me,” he snapped, unable to keep his agitation from his tone.
He didn’t want to hurt this female, but he had no desire to be with her again. Ever. With that, he turned and left the room.
He staggered as his mate’s soul pulsed painfully and a bloody image flashed in his mind. This same image had haunted him nightly for far too long. For the thousandth time, he wondered about the dead male and what his role was in the war. The male appeared human, but something told Zander he was immortal. He had to get out of this club and clear his mind before he went mad.
*****
Zander lay on the gold, silk duvet that covered his king-sized bed, but sleep continued to elude him. His discomfort had become a piercing ache in his chest. He rubbed at the pain before putting on his jeans and a dark-blue t-shirt then padded into the living room of his large suite. He flipped on the television and went into the kitchen area. After setting a pot of coffee to brew, Zander turned to the fridge. He was hungry but not for food. He needed blood. The thought sent a flutter through the tightness in his chest. He grabbed an apple and crossed back into the living room.
He plopped down on the dark-brown, leather sofa and turned on CNN. His thoughts drifted to the previous night and his encounter with Lena and his peculiar reactions. Her perfume drove him mad, but he was repulsed by her. The heavy clomp of boots interrupted his thoughts. He expanded his senses and picked up the sound of Santiago and Orlando headed his way.
He didn’t read their thoughts to determine why they were darkening his door before they knocked. “Enter,” he called out.
Orlando opened the door and peered around the wood panel. “Good afternoon, Liege. Can we speak with you for a moment? The matter is urgent.”
Orlando took a few steps into his rooms followed by Santiago, who shut the door behind him. His warriors were tense as hell and he immediately tried to tune into their thoughts but was only able to pick up bits and pieces. Something about the widow, concern for the realm, Orlando’s attraction to the female, and shock all bombarded his mind.
They were setting his jittery nerves on edge. He stood and began pacing, a nervous habit of his. “Is this aboot the counselor’s murder?” he demanded.
Orlando began wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot. “Yes. We looked into it as you asked, and, well…”
After several moments of allowing the male to find his words, Zander’s patience snapped. “Spit it oot, already.”
He looked to Santiago for answers but the male kept his mouth shut and his lower lip gripped between his teeth.
“The widow is pissed about how the department has handled her husband’s murder investigation. She threatened to give the news reporters her side of the case,” the male paused and met his gaze squarely. “More importantly, I believe she knows about skirm,” Orlando added.
Zander stopped in his tracks and turned to face his warriors. “How the he
ll does she know aboot them? What exactly does she know?”
Orlando shifted restlessly. “I’m not certain of what she knows, or how she knows it, but she mumbled about their existence under her breath, unaware I could hear her.”
A scenario like this was precisely why Zander had assigned Orlando and Santiago to the human police department. It was his duty to protect the Tehrex Realm and keep it secret. He used his best warriors to keep a lid on information and stop it from leaking out.
He had suspicion about the case involving the murder of a group home counselor. It didn’t sit well with him that this had gotten out of hand. On the upside, he now had an excuse to pay the female a visit. Excitement thrummed through him.
“Is it possible you misunderstood what she said? Tell me exactly what she said,” Zander demanded.
Orlando cleared his throat, “After I informed her of the change in detectives on her husband’s case, she began ranting and raving about how SPD had mishandled the case and placed the community at risk by allowing a dangerous killer to run free without even looking for him. I believe her exact words were—”
Zander cut off what was going to be a lengthy dialogue. “Och, I doona want to hear how she thinks SPD is incompetent. What did she say aboot skirm?”
“After I told her Santiago and I were going to dedicate all of our energy and resources to finding the person responsible, she said, and I quote, ‘Detective Trovatelli, there is nothing you can do to make this better for me and I don’t believe for a minute that you will be able to find who did this. You don’t have the first clue as to where to start. This will be an exercise in you chasing your tail.’ Then she mumbled under her breath, ‘If you only knew about what stalks the night.’ I was stunned, to say the least, Liege,” Orlando stated.
The female’s temerity brought Zander’s ardor roaring back. It was somehow sexier coming from such a powerless creature.
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