To Love and Serve

by Caridad Piñeiro

  Jesus glanced at her as he pulled his gun. “We’ll go. You stay here, Reyes. This one time, please don’t argue with me.”

  “You’re the bigger target, Jesus. I don’t think—”

  “That’s a fucking order.”

  He took off, hugging one side of the alley, and Daly went in on the other. Itching to follow, she took cover and watched them move stealthily down between the buildings. But a full moon and wind-driven clouds sent bursts of city lights into the alley in spots where the buildings were not tall enough to block the neon jungle.

  As Jesus raced across one bright patch, a shot rang out. The brick wall just above his head exploded in a starburst of grit and brick shards. He jumped into a doorway and flattened himself against the wall.

  “Crap. Whatever happened to stakes and crossbows?” she muttered, trying to place where the shot had come from. But Bartholomew was too smart to give himself away by firing again.

  Daly and Jesus continued to inch along the sides of the alley, but Bartholomew had either already fled the alley or was being incredibly patient, staying hidden and silent in one of the many hidey-holes along the way.

  Suddenly, Jesus dashed out and sprinted ahead. Diana dropped to one knee and covered him, her aim low enough to disable, but not kill. She wanted Bartholomew alive for punishment. Especially after what he’d done to Benjamin and Michaela.

  Jesus slipped into a doorway, and Daly started running along the opposite side, leapfrogging. But again, silence greeted them.

  Diana could no longer wait and watch as the two men neared the other end. She slipped into the alley and sneaked ahead, keeping close to the walls until she could tuck herself into one of the doorways. Her stomach rebelled and did another topsy-turvy move. Her body shook and her breathing got heavy.

  At one of his rest stops, Jesus squinted back and saw her running. He scowled, clearly upset she’d ignored his command to stay back. There was still no sign of Bartholomew.

  She hoped he hadn’t somehow managed to escape.

  She swallowed nausea and darted out to slink past a shallow gap between buildings. All at once, she sensed two conflicting beats of power. One familiar, and the other—

  “Don’t move, bitch.”

  The hard, hot barrel of a gun pressed to the base of her skull. Thick clouds obscured the moon, painting the alley around her black in darkness. But for the space of a heartbeat the wind cleared away the shadows and moonlight glimmered brightly. She caught a brief glimpse of Ryder on the roof of the building across from her and saw the fear on his face as he realized what was happening. Then the clouds cloaked the area in darkness once more.

  “Drop your weapon,” Bartholomew ordered as he banded an arm tight around her waist.

  Do as he says, darlin’. It’ll be okay. The sound of Ryder’s voice in her head, borne of their unique connection, happened so rarely it startled her. She obeyed without thinking and dropped the Glock. The clatter of metal on the cobblestones had Jesus and Daly whirling toward her, guns drawn. They both froze when they saw Bartholomew’s gun at her neck.

  She fought back the only way she could. “Now you’re pissing me off. Not to mention the fifty cops surrounding this place. You’re not going to get away from here alive. You know that, right?”

  A loud, braying laugh echoed down the alley. A lunatic’s laugh that deepened the iciness in her body.

  His gun shifted to rest against her temple. “Brave words for a dead woman walking.”

  He didn’t know how true his words were. Either way, she was a dead woman. But she would be the master of her own fate.

  “You want to live, right?” she taunted, and the gun barrel shook against her head. Bartholomew huffed out a laugh tinged with disbelief. “Do you know who I am? What I am?”

  “A murderer,” she said matter of factly. “Though one count is all we can pin on you. Hell, you’re a crazy motherfucker. Plead insanity and you’ll be out in no time.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder move closer to the ledge of the building, preparing to jump. With his speed, he might just be able to reach her in time.

  Might being the operative word.

  “Insane?” Bartholomew accused. “You think I’m insane?” His agitation and volume increased with each word, and the barrel pointed at her head grew ever shakier.

  Inserting a note of pleading, trying to calm him, she said, “Prove to everyone you’re not crazy. Drop the gun, Bartholomew. Please?”

  As his body relaxed against hers, she thought he might actually relent. But then tension coiled his whole body, and she knew it was too late for talk or surrender.

  She met Ryder’s gaze across the distance separating them. In the space of a heartbeat, he flew down and landed inches from them. Bartholomew jerked in surprise. The pistol at her head slipped. Instantly, she clamped his wrist and twisted the gun around.

  Just as he pulled the trigger.

  She leaped forward, right into Ryder’s arms, her ears ringing from the gunshot.

  Bartholomew stood frozen for a moment, bits of blood, bone, and brain splattered against the wall behind him. Until death caught up, and he dropped like a stone. His head made a sickening hollow sound as it connected with the bricks. Fingers of shock grabbed her gut, making her insides squeeze and coil in revolt.

  Before she wrecked the crime scene, she pushed away from Ryder and fell into a nearby doorway. Her body shuddered as she puked up the minimal contents in her stomach. Over and over the cramps seized her. Ryder came to her, holding her steady and offering words of comfort.

  The amused chortles and comments of the uniforms who had converged on the alley after hearing the gunshot embarrassed her even more.

  “Fuckin’ feds booting over a dead body.”

  More laughter followed until Daly barked out, “I want your badge number. Now. We don’t disrespect fellow law enforcement.” Absolute silence followed, along with the chastised officer grudgingly providing the information.

  Jesus came to stand beside them, not saying a word.

  She finally straightened, and Ryder offered her his handkerchief. She took it gratefully and wiped her forehead and mouth.

  “I feel like crap,” she muttered on a groan. Weakness weighted her every move, and sweat bathed her body, making her shiver with cold.

  Daly came over, his expression grim. “Never knew you to have such a sensitive stomach, Reyes.”

  She swallowed, mortified. “I grabbed a quick bite earlier. Guess the dirty-water hot dog’s not agreeing with me. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go.”

  Daly looked back toward the body being guarded by two officers. He’d sent the others to keep the curious gawkers from entering the alley. In the distance, the wail of an ambulance drew closer.

  “I called the EMTs,” he said. “Not that our suspect needs them. Have them look you over.”

  She shook her head, but accepted the bottle of water Ryder handed her. She washed out her mouth and stepped away to spit out the water. Then she turned and smiled weakly at Ryder. “No. I just want to go home.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Diana and Ryder walked into their apartment, arms wrapped around each other. Jesus followed them in and glanced around, and she knew he was searching for Michaela.

  Ryder clasped his shoulder and steered him toward the back hallway. “She’s doing fine. I moved her into the guest bedroom. We’d like her to rest here for a few days before she goes home.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and hurried off to see her. Diana went into Ryder’s arms, finally allowing relief to set in. He held her so tightly she had trouble breathing until she squeaked and he relaxed his hold. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him tenderly, desperately needing the peace that only his love could bring.

  He returned the kiss roughly at first, cradling her face in his hands. His kiss was demanding, as if he feared she wasn’t really there. She ran her hands across the tension in his body, and gradually it gentled.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” sh
e reassured as they broke apart for a moment.

  “It’s been so long since you were on a case, I forgot what it feels like,” he confessed. “The worry about your safety that starts the moment you walk out that door. The fear that you won’t walk back in.”

  “I’m here now, and in one piece. Just really tired,” she said, and twined her fingers with his.

  He touched her cheek. “Then let’s get to bed.”

  They walked up the stairs to their bedroom, and paused by the edge of the bed to undress each other.

  Ryder seemed to be in no rush, taking his time as he eased off her jacket and then her holster. She caught the leather harness as it dropped, and gingerly laid the weapon on the nightstand. By then he’d snagged her badge from her belt and tossed it on top of the holster.

  With one quick yank, she pulled his black sweater over his head, and ran her hands down the smooth muscles of his arms before going to work on his jeans.

  As she undid the button and then the zipper, he released the clasp on her bra, and she pulled it off while he shimmied out of his jeans.

  He stood beside her, beautifully naked. His dark gaze looking out from that handsome face she would never tire of seeing. She cupped his jaw and slid her thumb across his lips. They were still warm and damp from their kiss…and impossible to resist.

  She inched higher and leaned against him as she brought her mouth to his. Her breasts skimmed across the hard wall of his chest, the tips sensitive to the contact, tightening and sending a bolt of desire streaking through her.

  She moaned against his lips as she kissed him. He smiled and grasped her waist. “I thought you were tired,” he teased.

  She was. Dead tired. And yet she drew a kind of sustenance from him, from this sharing, which she needed as much as she needed air to breathe.

  “I’m tired, not dead,” she replied playfully, and dipped her hand down to encircle him. She stroked up and down his cock, dragging a moan from him.

  He nipped her bottom lip. “So not fair.”

  “Why is that?” She urged him back until his legs hit the mattress and gave him a push to sit down.

  “Because you’ve still got too many clothes on.” He undid her jeans and skimmed them from her body. Then he took her hand and pulled her up with him to the center of the bed.

  They tangled together, arms and legs entwined, each kiss a step toward building passion and reaffirming their love. Ryder dipped his hand down to cup her breast and she moaned in pleasure. He shifted lower, and his mouth closed over her sensitive nipples. Her body shook from the intense sensation. Each tug and lick rocked her harder and harder, and when he eased his other hand between her thighs and slipped a finger into her, she came. Rough and long, and shuddering.

  “Oh, darlin’. I’m so glad I can bring you such pleasure,” he murmured.

  And while her climax still hummed through her body, he joined with her, filling her deeply. She arched her back as another release roared through her.

  Ryder grunted. She could feel her intense response had nearly pulled him over the edge. But he held back. “I need you,” he whispered. “My soft woman and hard warrior.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his face and lips, her breath shaky from his loving. “I need you, too, Ryder. So much.”

  He held her tight. “I’m never letting you go.”

  “I hope not,” she whispered. He met each of her kisses as her body slowly returned to normal with him tucked inside, savoring his passion for her. She ran her fingers through the strands of his hair, her gaze on his face, questioning his intense mood. But all she found was love.

  Inside her something quickened with emotion. She had to let him know it was only the light of his love that kept her from the darkness.

  “I love you, Ryder,” she told him softly. “I need you in my life. You’re the only thing that makes sense in this crazy world I’m stuck in.”

  He smiled and a hint of dimple graced his cheek. She traced the boyish indentation with a finger and felt the start of a smile on her own lips.

  “I love you, too. Why do you think I asked you to marry me?” he teased and turned his head to bite the tip of her finger.

  “For the sex?” she kidded in return, bending to nip at his bottom lip.

  He rolled, bringing her beneath him, and braced his hands on either side of her so he could look at her. “The sex is wonderful,” he agreed, and finally moved, thrusting into her. Desire ripped through her again.

  She grasped his hips, her fingers digging into his buttocks. “It’s amazing,” she said. His eyes darkened even more, and he dipped his head to whisper against her lips, “Don’t ever stop loving me, darlin’.”

  “Never,” she assured, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep him near as he began the age-old rhythm of love.

  His hips drove into her and retreated, again and again, as passion built, their bodies heating as they caressed one another. He bent to gently bite her sensitive nipple, and she sucked in a breath at the pleasure–pain. His tenderness brought desire with each tug of his teeth and lips. She freed her response to the sensation, and gave herself over to the release that swept through both their bodies as one.

  Ryder drove deep into her and stilled, a shout of pleasure bursting from his chest.

  Long minutes later a peaceful sigh whispered from his lips, and he shifted her to drape along his side.

  As she settled against him, she released a contented sigh. Then finally closed her eyes to sleep.

  It had been a hell of a day. But it had all been worth it, just to have this one perfect moment with the man she loved.

  …

  Ryder came awake when Diana’s cell phone alarm went off, five minutes later, it seemed.

  Even though she lingered in his arms after shutting off the alarm, he had no doubt she would rise and honor her obligation to go to work. Sure enough, too soon she kissed him and headed to the bathroom for a shower. He rose as well, knowing she would need a jolt of caffeine and sugar to get her going.

  He dressed and went downstairs, first checking on Jesus and Michaela. But the door to the guest room was shut tight. Padding to the kitchen, he prepped their large espresso machine to brew the coffee and scalded some milk. Gathering four mugs and a bowl of raw sugar, he waited for the sputter that signaled the coffee was done. When it was ready, he mixed up a couple of mugs, and headed into the living room. Jesus was up and about, so he went back and made one for him, too.

  “How is she?” they both asked at the same time, and chuckled.

  “Diana is fine,” he said, and handed him a coffee.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip. “I can’t believe she puked at the crime scene last night and embarrassed herself in front of the entire NYPD.” Jesus shook his head with a lopsided grin. “God, she’s going to hate that.”

  He had no idea. Ryder knew just how upset she’d been, but didn’t comment. “Michaela okay?”

  Jesus’s grin softened into a relieved smile. “She’s good.”

  Ryder motioned him to the couch and dropped into a leather chair by the fireplace. “She needs to take it easy for a while. I suspect you’re going to have your hands full getting her to rest.”

  Jesus wrapped his hands around his mug. “I appreciate all you did for her, Ryder.”

  “Just remember that when Diana needs some slack at work,” he said, surprised by the sudden anger in his words.

  Jesus jerked back as if struck. “I did everything I could. I was lucky to save her badge.”

  “But you didn’t think about her badge when you called her last night, did you?”

  Jesus clenched his fists. “Who the—”

  “Easy, boys. I can smell the testosterone all the way over here.” Diana paused at the foot of the stairs and straightened her navy blue suit jacket. She reached beneath to her holster and adjusted it more comfortably on her shoulder.

  Ryder inhaled deeply and slowly expelled it. “We were just—”

  “Getting r
eady to pound the shit out of each other?” She raised an eyebrow and sauntered toward them, her soft-soled boots almost silent on the hardwood floors.

  “We were just having a discussion about you going to work today. You look a little peaked,” Jesus said, studying her carefully.

  “Thanks. You look like shit, too, but I assume you still plan on heading in.”

  Jesus tried to smooth the wrinkles in his shirt and grimaced at the stains marring the fabric. “I’ve got a change of clothes in the office. I’ll shower in the lockers.”

  When she reached Ryder, he offered her the mug of coffee.

  She gave him a bright smile and danced her fingers across his cheek to soothe the upset that still simmered from the exchange with Jesus, then sat on the arm of his chair. “Thank you. It smells great.”

  “I don’t want to intrude anymore. When can I take Michaela home?” Jesus asked curtly.

  “It would be best for her not to move around for a couple of days,” Ryder said. “She’s welcome to stay.”

  Jesus glanced between them, clearly uncertain about his welcome in the future.

  Diana said, “I was hoping you could drive me to the office. Maybe give me a lift home and have dinner with us. Right, Ryder?” She glanced at him over the rim of the mug as she took a sip.

  Ryder glared at the other man, but relented. “Sure. I’ll see you both tonight.”

  He brushed a quick kiss across Diana’s cheek, rose, and headed upstairs. Whatever. They’d caught the maniac who’d been killing vampires, and the woman he loved had agreed to marry him. Nothing was going to spoil the day.

  …

  Diana sipped her coffee again and lifted her mug toward his empty. “Would you care for more? Ryder makes a mean café con leche, doesn’t he?”

  “Only if it’s to go. I really need to get cleaned up.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You are a little aromatic.” She got up and led the way to the kitchen, and Jesus followed. Snaring a travel mug from a cabinet, she filled it and handed it to her friend. Her engagement ring gleamed on her finger, and she took a moment to admire the gleaming sapphire and diamonds set in a platinum band. Jesus’s eyes widened.