She felt the tentative rise of his passion, but he didn’t move to make love. Things were still fragile between them and he’d promised not to push her.
“How’d it go with Maggie?” he asked.
“I told her about you and your friends. About me. I guess she took it better than I should have expected.”
“It’s important to you that she believes you.”
She nodded. “Maybe knowing the truth can help her get back with David. I’m starting to realize how important relationships are, and that we need to understand and work at them.” She looked up at him and asked, “What was your mom like?”
He was clearly taken aback by the question, but then a small smile slipped across his lips. “A lot like you, darlin’. Petite, but with a backbone of steel. My father might have thought he was running the plantation, but we all knew better. She had a firm but fair hand, and all of our workers knew they could come to her for help.”
“Workers? You didn’t have slaves?”
“My pa didn’t cotton to slavery. No pun intended. He freed our people as soon as his daddy passed.” The Louisiana drawl was strong in his voice, stirring her.
“But you decided to become a doctor?”
“We were a large rice plantation next to several other sizable plantations. It made getting medical assistance difficult, so I decided it would help if I could doctor the folks in the area.”
She was about to ask another question when he slipped his index finger over her lips. “Why do you want to know all this?”
The answer was simple. “Because we never had time to talk about it before.”
“But we have time now, darlin’. So ask away,” he said, and she did, listening to his stories of life on the plantation and after, the violence and hardship of war. A war during which he’d been turned and become immortal.
“I don’t know how you handled it. All those centuries of…loneliness,” she admitted sympathetically.
“I don’t, either, really. All I know is that I had to have faith that this life was meant to be. That there was a reason I was turned. And when you came into my life, I had my reason.”
“I wish I could be so sure about why this is happening to me. To us,” she said, feeling a wash of anger over the choices she was being forced to make.
Ryder’s gaze skipped across her face. “I know you’re not sure about what to do, but ask yourself this. Who will stand for all the victims when you’re gone? Who will provide them justice?”
“You forget. I’ve already failed that mission.”
“Bullshit, darlin’. We both know how many lives you’ve saved in both our worlds.”
“Our worlds?” she shot back, her pain bleeding through the question. “I’m not even sure which world I belong to any more. I’m not human, but I’m not vamp, either, am I?”
He squeezed her hand. “You were born to serve, Diana. Doesn’t matter whether it’s the vamp world or the human one, you’re my warrior.”
How could he have such faith in her? She sniffed, feeling the sting of tears, and a heartbeat later she buried her head in the crook of his shoulder. Hiding the tears she hated to shed in front of him. Even with all they’d shared, there were still parts she closed off to him. Still afraid to let herself be so vulnerable. Maybe someday…
Holding her tight, he soothed her with a gentle stroke of his hands along her back until she’d cried herself out. Pulling away, she swiped at the remnants of the tears and gave him a salty kiss. For a moment she let herself feel the intense pleasure of kissing him, then abruptly leaned back, remembering what had happened last time. Guilt buffeted her immediately.
He gave her an understanding smile. “It’s okay. I’m a patient man. I can wait until you come to grips with everything.”
Which made her feel even more guilty. But she was still too freaked out to risk making love again so soon.
He nestled closer, but not in a sexual way. “How about some dancing tomorrow after you’re done with Maggie?”
Her heart quickened at his invitation.
“I’d like that. Should I meet you at The Lair?”
“My momma would whoop me if she thought I wasn’t being a proper gentleman. I’ll pick you up here at nine,” he said, his drawl thickening as he raised her hand and pressed a kiss along her knuckles.
“You’re so not playing fair.”
“All’s fair in love and war, darlin’,” he replied with a sexy grin.
She searched his features and asked, “So which is it? Love or war?”
His boyish grin and the determination in his tone provided his answer. “I’ll never stop fighting to keep you with me. If that’s war, I’m in it to my last breath.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ryder paused just outside The Lair, his senses detecting the beat of unusual power, like the vibrations of a powerful boat motor humming along the surface of the ocean. Low and continuous, like vampire energy…but different. Both brighter and darker at the same time, if that was possible.
He searched the alley and the shadows created by dusk and the taller buildings on either side, but couldn’t see anyone. But he sensed the power in the same way a shark sensed a dying fish in the water. The vibrations washed over him, constant and troubling.
Weird. He was at The Lair for the meet-up with Diego and Michaela. When he went in, he found them already in his office. Michaela was casually perched on the edge of his desk while Diego paced in front of her.
Diego halted his nervous movement and turned. “There you are.”
Michaela snapped, “You’re late.”
Ryder frowned, heading behind his desk. “I thought I sensed something strange in the alley and stopped to see if I could find it.”
“Something strange? But you don’t know what?” she asked sharply.
“Nothing I’m familiar with,” he admitted, ignoring her rudeness. Her attitude deflated and she looked genuinely contrite. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel as if we’re running out of time.”
“I get it. I do, too.” The killer had struck twice now, in close succession. Another kill couldn’t be far away, but they had so little to go on to find the bastard. Ryder pulled out the report from Detective Daly and offered it to her. “The stake was clean of prints, but had some latex residue. Whoever used it wore gloves.”
“Our Council’s expert found the same thing. The wood carving was likely done with a large, very sharp hunting knife, probably the same one he used to slash the victims’ throats,” she said.
Diego dragged an impatient hand through his hair. “How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”
“Most serial killers are white men between the ages of 25 and 45. Plus, the throat slash on the male vamp was nearly horizontal, while that on the female was higher on the right than the left. That means the killer was closer in height to the male vamp—at least six foot—and right-handed.”
Ryder arched a skeptical brow at her report. “That your own research or your expert’s?”
The young slayer flushed a shade of pink. “You’re not the only one with friends at the FBI.”
Diego slowly applauded, and the sarcastic sound of it bit through the room. “So glad to know you’ve both got friends in high places. Does that help us at all?”
Ryder shared a disquieted glance with Michaela before turning to Diego. “Not until we have more evidence. The Blood Bank doesn’t have surveillance tapes, but if this psycho’s decided to hunt elsewhere—”
“Like here, you mean?” Diego said.
Ryder nodded. “Like here. We’ve got eyes on the bar, dance floor, and the line outside.”
Michaela said quickly, “But didn’t you just notice energy of some kind, maybe even someone, in the alley?”
Ryder thought back to the sensation of power he felt in the alley. “Someone, I think. Not human, but not vampire, either.”
“Like this?” Michaela stepped closer and laid a hand on his chest. Energy immediately arced between the two of them, stu
nning him with the force of it, and its uniqueness.
He shook his head, sending her a curious look. “Not exactly like that. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Diego gently grasped her wrist and urged her hand away from him. “Nor are you ever likely to experience such a mix of energies again. A dhampir slayer is about as rare an animal as you’ll find.”
Michaela yanked her hand from his grasp. “I am not an animal. Unlike you, my beast does not control me.”
“Nor does it control us, Michaela,” Ryder said, and laid his hand on her shoulder again to feel her unique powers. He narrowed his eyes, exploring the sensation.
Beneath the battling human and vampire life forces within her lay another kind of power. Bright, like the energy he’d sensed outside, and humming like current along an electrical wire.
She saw his interest, and explained, “That’s the energy we earn as we complete each phase of our training before we are accepted as slayers.”
Interesting. “Is it possible someone other than a slayer possesses this sort of energy?” Having shunned the vampire world for two centuries, he was still unfamiliar with so much.
“You mean a washout? Someone who fails the training?” Michaela asked.
Diego laughed harshly and glared at her. “Tell him what you do to those who fail.”
A flush erupted across her cheeks once more, and beneath Ryder’s hand, tension radiated through her muscles. She tilted her chin with a rebelliousness he recognized well. He’d seen it in Diana enough times. With deadly calm, she said, “No one fails out. You either become a full slayer—”
“Or they kill you,” Diego said, and made a slicing motion across his neck. “Just like they’ve been killing our kind for centuries.”
“Brutal much?” Ryder dropped his hand.
“I’ve never agreed with some of their tactics, but if you want to be a member of their club—”
“You have to play by their rules. I suspect that’s not something you care for,” Ryder said.
Michaela chuckled. “You could say that. The fact that I even exist is a sin to most of them, but I beat them at their own game, so they can’t keep me from playing.”
Ryder decided he liked this woman, even if at some point Fate might truly make them enemies. “I’m going to add a camera in the alley and talk to Foley about putting in more security inside. Are there any CCTVs near the Blood Bank?”
Michaela nodded. “Some bank ATMs and traffic cameras. We’re getting the recordings to check.”
“I’ll pull ours for you.”
“What about tonight?” Diego said. “He’s bound to strike again.”
Michaela jerked a thumb at the club entrance. “I think he may decide to come here next time, since the vamps have left the Blood Bank in droves.”
Ryder agreed. “Will you be here, Diego?”
Diego shook his head. “Otro Mundo is open tonight. I’m worried he may be scoping out our restaurant, also. A lot of our kind eat there.”
“That’s a good possibility,” Michaela said, then glanced at Ryder. “Why? You’re leaving?”
He wasn’t up to offering explanations, especially not to a virtual stranger. “I have other plans, but I may drop by afterward, depending on how things go. Do you plan to stay?”
“Definitely,” she answered forcefully. “Benjamin will come over later to help me out. He had some other errands right now.”
“Then I may see you both later. But for now, I’ve got to go.” He looked at her expectantly.
Michaela glanced from Diego to him, slightly flustered at her obvious dismissal. She stepped out with determined strides, the slam of the door the only hint that she was angry.
“Diana?” Diego asked, interest glittering in his gaze.
Ryder nodded. “Yeah.”
“I assume you two are working things out?”
“You can. I won’t give her up without a fight.”
“Do you plan on telling her about this killer?”
“No. She has enough to handle right now.”
Diego inclined his head in a gesture of reluctant acceptance. “I’ll call you later to see how the night goes, then. Watch your back.”
…
Diana rolled onto her back, experiencing the pull of night. It had been that way since a few months after the contamination, almost as if she was already going through the transformation to an undead state.
Only she was very much alive. She roused from yet another nap she’d needed. The big bed seemed too empty with Ryder gone. She ran her palm against the spot where he normally slept and imagined how he would look against the deep blue of the sheets. His perfect body bared to her gaze. His erection coming to life.
She sighed as desire awoke in her. The passion they shared had never been a problem, just everything else.
Reaching up, she touched her breasts. Her nipples were a touch sensitive, but she played with them until they were hard and she ached for more. She slipped her hand between her thighs and found the nub at her center. With a sure hand she reached for satisfaction, but it defied her, reminding her of how empty passion without love could be.
She cursed beneath her breath and rose to get ready for Ryder’s arrival. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him, and then came an unexpected flutter in her chest followed by a sudden chill deep in her center.
It was too soon. It had only been days since the treatment and the keeper’s kiss. But she’d pushed herself, trying to help Jesus with his case. Pressing herself to put things to right with Sebastian, her mother, and Maggie.
Maybe she’d moved too quickly.
Sitting up, a wave of dizziness came over her and she braced a hand on the mattress until it passed. Logic told her to call Melissa and have her take a quick look, but she held back. Another visit so soon would worry her brother and sister-in-law.
Logic also told her to call Ryder and maybe cancel their date, but she wanted special time with him. Once more a wave of happiness filled her at the prospect, although guilt tamped down some of her joy. Guilt because she wasn’t sure she was playing fair with him since she still didn’t know what she wanted in her life.
If she even had a life to worry about, she thought as the flutter established residence in her heart and tendrils from the chill worked their way through her body.
Driving away both guilt and worry, she hurried through a shower, which revived her. Then she stood in front of her closet to pick what to wear. Casual but sexy, she decided and whipped out a pair of black leather pants.
She paired those with lacy black lingerie and a black tank top, and paused to look at herself in the mirror. The Diana of old stared back, outwardly confident and capable. In fact, add her black leather jacket and she looked much as she had during her first real encounter with Ryder.
But then she realized she needed just a couple more things.
Opening a drawer, she took out her gun safe, unlocked it, and whipped out her baby Glock in its ankle holster. She popped out the magazine to make sure it was loaded with silver bullets and then secured it in place.
Although The Lair was nothing like The Blood Bank, the events of recent years had taught her never to take a chance. She chose a pair of low-cut boots that would still allow her easy access to her weapon, and strapped on the ankle holster. As she stood, the gleam of gold on the surface of her chest of drawers caught her eye.
She lifted the thick chain with the crucifix and medal of her patron saint. The gold warmed in her hand. The chain, crucifix, and medal were smooth from years of wear, only it had been too long since she’d last put them on.
A path had brought her here, she thought, rubbing the surface of the crucifix and medal. Was this the road she’d been chosen to travel?
Maybe.
She just had to have faith that the way would be shown to her, she thought as she slipped the heavy chain around her neck. She settled the crucifix and medal into the gap between her breasts, close to her heart. The religious items wo
uld not bother Ryder since he still believed, but it might be troublesome to other vampires in The Lair.
She hurried downstairs and grabbed her leather jacket from the foyer closet. She was just easing it on when a knock came at the door.
Ryder. A swell of joy washed through her. She opened the door and he stood there, a broad smile on his face and a huge bouquet of red carnations in his hand.
“My favorite. You remembered,” she said as pleasure swamped her.
…
Ryder bit back every cheesy thing he wanted to say about never forgetting Diana, or every little thing that she loved. Instead, he closed the door, followed her as she walked to the kitchen to get a vase, and waited as she filled it with water and slid in the carnations. She buried her nose against the fragrant petals and inhaled deeply. A bright smile erupted across her generous lips and her exotic gold-green eyes were alive with pleasure.
“I love the spicy smell of them.” She walked over, laid her hand against his chest, and met his gaze. “I’m really looking forward to our date.”
Her touch and tone communicated a resolve he hadn’t sensed from her in a long time. Maybe not since that fateful raid. He wouldn’t question the why of that. He was just going to enjoy it.
“I’m glad. I’ve got a car downstairs.”
“Car as in limo? What, no subway?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Always impatient. You’ll see once we get downstairs.”
“You know I’m not big on surprises.”
He captured her hand and playfully pulled her along as she dug in her heels. “Trust me. You’ll like it.”
She relented, holding his hand until they exited the building and she spotted the carefully restored 1960s baby blue Cadillac convertible sitting at the curb. Then she dropped his hand and raced forward to inspect the vehicle.
“My family used to have a car like this!” she said with a huge grin. “We would drive all around Little Havana with the top down, jumping up and down on these huge seats.”
“I thought you didn’t like surprises?”
She hugged him, and he slipped his arm around her waist, guiding her to the passenger door. He opened it and she slid onto the wide bench seat. Lovingly, she ran a hand along the white leather and the gleaming wood trim on the door and dashboard. It was impossible to miss the excitement in her eyes, and he was glad he’d gone to the effort of tracking down the convertible. She had a picture on her nightstand of her family grouped around a similar car in front of her old Miami home, so he’d suspected it would hold good memories for her.
To Love and Serve Page 10