Owning the Night

by Ann Jacobs

  Strictures by which the joy she’d just experienced was forbidden, spoken of only in whispers and condemned by almost all. Mara wanted that joy, uninhibited and unrestricted—joy acceptable only with those like Alexandre . . . and Philippe.

  She’d once wanted Dante to turn her, pouted when he’d refused. Now, though, it was time—time to embrace the darkness, the unabashed passion as well as an existence that bridged the ages. Time to give herself to Alexandre and a world free from mortal notions of right and wrong. A world not constrained by law when that law often stood in the way of justice, denying the only solution that could save countless women from a madman named Reynard.

  When Alexandre’s fangs touched but didn’t pierce her throat, Mara tried to shrug off her disappointment, tell herself it was too soon. But she knew it wasn’t.

  • • •

  Everything outside looked normal. A brilliant blue sky dotted with a few white clouds. The hot golden sun drifted slowly toward the western horizon. Bikini-clad girls played volleyball on the beach outside the hotel while strippers and other club employees began straggling into the businesses on the other side of the beach highway. A few dozen tourists were drinking beer and sunning themselves by the saltwater pool.

  Alex got up quietly when he woke and stood at the window, mulling over his options. There didn’t seem to be a lot of them. Pity he didn’t know exactly where Reynard had gone last night, because he’d have staked the bastard without a second thought if he’d been able to catch him sleeping off his most recent feeding.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Confronting a sleeping vampire—no matter how heinous a villain he might be—wasn’t Alex’s way. Besides, the thought of explaining to a bunch of zealous mortal cops why he’d attacked and destroyed a sleeping, unarmed vampire didn’t appeal.

  One thing was for certain, he wasn’t about to let Mara set herself up as bait, the way she’d suggested doing earlier, after Philippe had gone to sleep. She’d wanted to talk about why Alex still refused to mark her, but that question had stayed inside her head. Good thing, because he could no more have explained that than he’d been able to justify his anger at the thought of her putting herself in harm’s way.

  Still, Alex chided himself because he’d hurt her feelings, pointing out that while Mara was a hell of a lover, she was no drop-dead gorgeous blonde like the ones Reynard had victimized in the past. The minute the words left his mouth, he’d regretted saying them because the hurt in her dark eyes had been unmistakable.

  What they needed to do was find the bastard. Night would be falling soon, and Alex had a sinking feeling Louis would be killing on a daily basis now, since that had become his pattern over the past few days. He glanced over at the bed, then moved closer and shook Philippe’s shoulder.

  “Get up, both of you. It’s time to go hunt down a vampire.”

  Philippe rubbed his eyes then tossed back the covers. “Both of us? It seems Mara has already left.”

  “Fuck.” The expletive came out between tightly closed lips as Alex stared at the neatly arranged stack of pillows he’d thought was Mara. “Hurry. We’ve got to find Reynard before she does.”

  • • •

  I’ll show him. Standing in front of the mirror in her apartment, Mara adjusted a blonde wig on her head, almost losing her balance as she did. Damn, but standing up on these six-inch platform stilettos apparently took practice—practice she’d never had. Balancing precariously, she slipped into a skintight black dress. It would have to do, because she intended to be out trolling for Reynard before too many authentic hookers came out looking for a john.

  She still throbbed from the tandem fucking she’d enjoyed earlier. And her ego still stung when she thought about Alex telling her she’d never pass for a hooker, adding that she looked more like a cute little girl than a sex bomb. Of course he had finally let her feel the bite of his fangs after ordering her not to do it—not to even think about setting herself up as a trap for the serial killer.

  She’d been so aroused she’d begged him, and he’d given in and satisfied her. He’d barely pierced her before lifting his head and looking her in the eye. His words echoed in her ears. Reynard wouldn’t stop with a little taste, baby. He’d feed on you until every drop of your blood was gone. Behave or I’ll tie you to the bed and wake Philippe. Between the two of us, we’ll keep you so preoccupied with pleasure that you’ll abandon your foolish plans.

  She’d behaved—at least she’d pretended to give in until he drifted off to sleep. She’d then slid out from between her two vampire lovers, arranged pillows in more or less the shape of her body, thrown on clothes, and left them. Now she had a job to do.

  Get a killer’s attention before he hits on another civilian who doesn’t deserve to die.

  Sitting for a minute to take the pressure off her aching feet, Mara called the station and briefed Ben on her plan. It didn’t make her feel better when Ben warned her that ambitious state attorney Sierra Sienna had been nosing around, making noises about following due process, warning them all to wait and catch the vampire serial killer in the act unless they wanted to be brought up on criminal charges.

  Mara hung up and checked her weapon, stashing it in the small satin purse she’d dug out of the bottom drawer of her dresser since her “hooker” dress had no place where she might conceal it. The solid feeling of the Sig Sauer gave her a boost of confidence, even though she suspected Alex had been right when he said the gun would prove useless against their enemy.

  Sighing, she got up and teetered out to her car on the fuck-me shoes she’d borrowed from the stripper who lived next door. Now she had to not only seduce Reynard, but also to heed the mortal laws in bringing him to justice.

  • • •

  He’d been wrong. Perched on a stool at the end of the poolside bar, a drink in her hand, Mara looked exactly like a prostitute or stripper trolling for a man. If it weren’t for her expressive dark eyes and the swollen lips he’d kissed and nibbled on hours earlier, he might not have recognized her even with the small puncture wounds that marked her as his. “Little fool,” he muttered when he saw Louis Reynard take a seat beside her and start up some meaningless conversation.

  “Wait, Alex. Let her lure him away from here. Don’t try to take him now.” Philippe laid a restraining hand on Alex’s forearm, but Alex shook it off and stepped forward.

  “There. They’re leaving. Let them get out of sight of this crowd.”

  “I don’t care. He’s going to fucking kill her. I won’t let him.”

  “Neither will I.” Philippe’s declaration was no less lethal-sounding for being uttered quietly. “Come on.”

  Tiki lights sparkled in the dark, lighting the stretch of beach next to the hotel. A plaintive jazz tune floated over them, its source one of the clubs across the street. Alex strained his eyes, saw Louis drape an arm around Mara’s slender shoulders. “I’m taking him now,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

  “Wait.”

  There’d be no waiting. Louis Reynard wasn’t going to touch his woman. Alex wouldn’t let Reynard lay his filthy hands or fangs on Mara. Not that he’d have let the bastard destroy any more women if he could help it. But Mara? His feelings for her were different. Stronger. No time to think about that, though, not now. Moving more quickly than he ever had before, he came up on the two, Philippe at his back. “Get Mara away from him now.” Alex lunged at Reynard, caught him in a chokehold and wrestled him to the ground.

  The bastard didn’t stay there long. With an amazing burst of energy, he threw Alex off him and followed him up. Before Alex could regain his balance, Reynaud had him in a choke hold, his skinny legs wound tight around his waist.

  Alex tried but couldn’t buck off his attacker, hampered by the burden clinging to his back. He thought he felt Reynaud starting to weaken, but then he apparently found a second wind. Alex coughed, the pressure on his windpipe beginning to drain his strength.

  The fetid stench of the other vampire’s breath added
to Alex’s distress, but he managed to pry Reynaud’s bony fingers off his throat. With a sudden rotation of his body, he threw his burden to the sand and paused to catch his breath.

  For too long. Before Alex could take out his wooden stake and finish the fight, Reynaud was back on his feet, a little unsteady but able to dodge some of the blows Alex desperately tossed at him.

  Weakened though he was, the ancient vampire put up an amazingly tough fight. But he was no match for Alex. Bloodlust consumed him when he thought of what Reynard had planned for Mara. Over and over until his own knuckles were bloody, Alex pounded his opponent. Bones cracked, the sounds satisfying beneath his fists. About to raise his stake to end it, Alex realized they’d drawn the attention of a crowd—mortals whose horrified expressions told him they didn’t much care for his method of subduing an opponent.

  Alex didn’t give a fuck. Reynard was going to die. Grabbing the bastard by the neck, he dragged him into the shadows, out of the crowd’s view. In that second or two, Reynard drew on some inner reserves, for he was fighting now with superhuman power, biting and gouging at Alex’s eyes, struggling to get free.

  His hands slick with the other vampire’s blood, Alex struggled to hold on, but Louis somehow managed to break free. When he did, he let out an obscene cackle and bolted toward Mara.

  “No!” Vaguely Alex saw Philippe shove Mara behind him, protecting her with his own body. But Reynard shoved Philippe aside and lunged at Mara. His bony hands dug into her shoulders, tearing at the fabric of her dress. He’d bared her breasts and extended his fangs by the time Alex tackled him from behind and brought him down.

  “Die now, bastard.” Ignoring the blood streaming down his face, Alex hoisted his wooden stake and drove it through Reynard’s black heart.

  Finally the Fox lay defeated and destroyed, his remains dissolving into a fine gray dust that blew slowly out to sea.

  “Cuff him. I believe I have enough witnesses that the lack of a body won’t cause problems for the prosecution.” The words came not from Mara as Alex had expected, but from a dark-haired beauty standing next to Ben. A lawyer, unless he missed his guess.

  His expression apologetic, Ben moved closer and snapped handcuffs on Alex’s wrists. Ben cleared his throat. “You have the right to remain silent . . .” Miranda Rights, Alex thought. He’d heard them before from a sheriff in Montana and resented having to hear them again now. “Sorry, man. Reynard needed killing,” Ben offered at the end of his recitation, without the slightest change in his bored monotone.

  Yes, Louis Reynard certainly had needed killing. To Alex’s credit, the evil vampire now was dead. To his shame, nearly two years had passed since he and his kinsmen had first set out on the hunt—and here he was, twenty-five unfortunate mortals and thousands of miles later. As he let Ben push him into the police cruiser, he watched Philippe take to the air.

  Alex knew where his clansman was going, and he had no doubt that Stefan and Claude would be arriving soon. Meanwhile he’d sit in jail and nurse his wounds. Might even con his jailers out of a feed to make up for the blood he’d lost.

  No need to burst the mortals’ bubble too soon by shedding the cuffs and flying away.

  • • •

  Mara couldn’t get the picture of Sierra Sienna’s self-satisfied smirk off her mind as she sped to her apartment to change. Why the fuck had her homicide case drawn the personal attention of the most bulldoggish prosecutor in Dade County, a woman whose only apparent purpose in life was making a name for herself in the local media?

  Mara tossed off her disguise, scrubbed the makeup off her face and threw on brown slacks and a jacket. No time to primp. She ran a brush through her hair and tied it back with a rubber band before running to her car and hurrying to the station house.

  Damn it, the last thing she’d wanted was for Alex to end up in jail. She had to talk to him, make him know she hadn’t had anything to do with his arrest. With any kind of luck, they wouldn’t have transported him to the county lockup yet.

  “Where’s d’Argent?” she asked the desk sergeant as she scribbled her name on the sign-in book.

  “Braunstein’s interrogating him. Room two.”

  Good. Alex was still here. Even better as far as Mara was concerned, Sierra was nowhere to be seen—a good thing since the woman had no qualms about sticking her nose in and fucking up investigations at every opportunity. Mara went inside, ordered Ben out and closed the door with a satisfying thud. “I didn’t do this,” she whispered as she sat next to him and removed the cuffs when she noticed he was holding his hands in an awkward position.

  “I know.” He curled his fingers around her hand, his movement uncharacteristically clumsy. “I think I broke a bone or two on the bastard. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.”

  It was uncanny how he could read her thoughts. “Do you need to feed?”

  “Your pal Ben gave me some when I first got here. It was enough that I’ll survive, at least for a few days.” He reached up and cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his emerald gaze. “Go away, love. Leave me alone. I’m not in the best of moods.” He stood, turning toward the barred window and staring out.

  She’d get him out of here. Get Philippe to help hide him away so he could heal.

  Fuck it all, her magnificent vampire lover was a hero, not a criminal to be locked away. Maybe . . . maybe he could seduce Sierra, use his powers to sway a jury.

  “Don’t even think about it. Remember what I told you, that no prison could hold Reynard. There’s none that can hold me long, either.” With what seemed like great reluctance he reached out and drew her to him, cradling her head on his shoulder, a silent gesture that seemed frighteningly like a good-bye. “You need to go now. Please.”

  “I want to stay.” What she was feeling was more than lust, so much more than she’d ever felt before, for a mortal or a vampire. “Please,” she said, tilting her head back to look into his eyes—and baring her throat in a blatant offer of submission.

  Alex glanced at the door, where someone was rattling at the lock. “Not now. You think you want me now. I want you, too, but it’s too soon. Get out of here before you get in trouble for helping me. And think about what you want. I’m going to get out of here soon, but I’ll come back.”

  “How?” She gripped his shoulders, but she knew now she didn’t care how he planned to escape. “Take me with you.”

  “Not now, sweetheart. Trust me, though. I’ll be back.”

  She did trust him. But she didn’t want him fighting vampire hunters . . . didn’t want him meeting the same fate as Dante.

  “There’s no vampire hunter around who’ll go after me unless it’s to give me a medal,” Alex said, bending as he did and brushing his lips across her cheek. “Hang in there for me.”

  Just then two dark, compelling vampires who closely resembled Alex entered through the barred window, swooped him up and disappeared with him the way they’d come. Mara was still looking out the window when someone broke down the door and Sierra burst in.

  “Where is he? And why was the door locked?” The lawyer’s gaze settled on the handcuffs on the table. “You let him go,” she said, pointing at the open handcuffs. “Arrest her!”

  Toby Cruz, the uniformed patrolman who’d trailed in behind Sierra, shot Mara an apologetic look, but she had no doubt he’d do the prosecutor’s bidding. After all, she had let Alex go—not that he wouldn’t have escaped without her, or that she could have stopped him if she’d tried. “The man’s a vampire, for God’s sake,” she told the other woman, as if that would have done any good.

  Sierra stepped closer as her companion cuffed Mara’s hands behind her back. “Instead of staking him when he tried to escape, you took off the cuffs and let him go. For that you’ll do some hard time. Read her her rights,” she ordered Ben, who’d just come into the room. The lawyer’s cruel smile projected her satisfaction at having found someone to put away in connection with the serial killings, however loose the ties might be. “Then take her over to
the Women’s Detention Center. I doubt she’ll be bonding out.”

  Mara wouldn’t be, not if Sierra had anything to say about it. Even if she was nothing except a grandstanding media hound when it came to grabbing cases to prosecute, the woman was a skillful advocate for the state when it came to getting defendants denied bail at initial bond hearings. “Get me a lawyer,” she said when Ben finished telling her what she already knew.

  “I will. We won’t let the witch lady get away with this.”

  Chapter Six

  “I still say we should get you out of here and back to Paris,” Stefan argued.

  “Reynard managed to get in a few good hits on you before you finished him off,” Claude added.

  Not to mention that Alex’s disappearance would have set off a major vampire hunt by the Metro-Dade cops. But Alex didn’t care. “I’m not leaving without Mara.”

  Claude turned back from where he’d been looking out the window of this new hotel across the highway from the club where he’d met his own mate a few months earlier. “Are you sure she wants you?”

  No. He wasn’t as sure as Claude had been that his woman really wanted to trade her mortal existence on Miami Beach for an eternity in his vampire world. After all, Mara had a good job—a good life—unlike Marisa, whom Claude had rescued from a miserable existence where she hadn’t been able to pull her brother out of the deepening schism of drug addiction and involvement with the mob. “I’m sure I want to find out.”

  They had Philippe nosing around the station, hoping to see Mara and bring her here without catching the attention of her coworkers. But Alex had an uneasy feeling that became acute when the room phone rang a few minutes later.