Sarah felt her chance, slim as it was, slipping away. What did he mean when he said they had the vampire angle covered? Was there someone in town who knew about vamps? No one at the University, that was for sure. Who could he . . . Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered someone just a short flight away who knew a hell of a lot more than she did about vampires.
Raj pulled into the parking lot behind the police station, backing into a spot in the second row with a good line of the sight on the entrance. He wasn't comfortable being here, although he dealt with cops all the time in Manhattan. There was always some idiot with a death wish who decided to take on one of his vampires, or who got drunk and started a fight in the waiting line as it wound its way down the block. But Manhattan was Raj's city and he knew its cops. He knew who worked what beat around his clubs and he always donated to the various police charities when called upon, which was often. This, on the other hand, definitely wasn't his city, and he wasn't dealing with some asshole on a drunk and disorderly. The Cowens girl had been gone a few days; the odds were she was already dead, which made this a potential murder investigation. And Raj had a feeling the Buffalo Police Department wasn't going to be impressed with his donations to the NYPD Policemen's Ball.
A taxi cab pulled up to the station house, its left front tire dropping visibly into a water-filled pothole before the driver edged forward to sit spewing exhaust in front of the stairs. A woman climbed out of the back seat, her hair uncombed, her clothes obviously pulled on in a hurry. She shoved some money at the driver and he took off, swerving at the last minute to avoid hitting the pothole a second time, driving right by Raj on his way to the exit, windows open despite the frigid air.
As the taxi whipped onto the street, it cut right in front of a limo which had slowed down for its own ponderous turn into the lot. Raj chuckled softly. Who knew sitting in a police parking lot would be so entertaining? The long, black vehicle made its stately way across the width of the building, the driver deftly avoiding the water-filled pothole while taking up almost the exact position the taxi had occupied earlier. The right passenger door opened almost immediately and a man jumped out, his ready demeanor and discreet weapon proclaiming him a bodyguard even before he scanned the area carefully. The driver had disembarked and circled the car by then and, after getting an affirming nod from the bodyguard, opened the back door and said something to whoever was inside before stepping out of the way.
A large man emerged first, his longish blond hair uncovered, his camel-colored cashmere coat buttoned tightly. He turned just enough to offer a good look at his face and Raj swore softly. Edward Blackwood—a traveling snake-oil salesman if there ever was one.
A second man stood from within the limo, almost as tall as Blackwood, but not nearly as bulky. In his late fifties, with carefully styled dark hair, he wore a black winter coat and had a scarf wrapped around his neck against the cold. Unlike Blackwood, he didn't wait, but went immediately up the stairs and into the building, his bodyguard in tow. Blackwood seemed taken aback by the rapid departure and hurried to keep up, hustling along behind. Raj frowned. Given Blackwood's habit of hanging around rich men who had nothing better to do with their money than waste it on Humanity Realized, Raj had to figure the dark-haired man was William Cowens, the missing girl's billionaire father. Which didn't make him happy. He had come prepared to deal with the cops, not a distraught father.
The limo driver pulled the vehicle deeper into the parking lot to wait for his boss's return. Raj sat there a few minutes longer, then switched off the ignition and climbed out of the warm car. Time to find out how much the police knew. And how much they didn't.
Time to get the job done and get out of this town before it sucked him dry.
Raj crossed the parking lot swiftly, taking the stairs two at a time. The scent of a woman's perfume drifted on the air, something light and flowery, something oddly familiar. It persisted as he crossed to the reception desk to confront a human policeman sitting behind a bulletproof barrier and studiously ignoring everyone on the other side.
Raj tapped on the plastic and the cop looked up.
"My name's Gregor, Raymond Gregor,” he said, using the American version of his name. “Detective Scavetti is expecting me."
"Mr. Gregor?” The man's voice came from behind him and Raj spun, tensing slightly.
"Detective Dan Felder,” the man said, stepping forward. “Scavetti and I are partners.” Felder was tall and slender, probably considered good-looking in a subdued sort of way. He smiled as he extended his hand. “Didn't mean to startle you. I was passing through and heard the name."
"Detective,” Raj said, accepting the handshake.
"So, no problem entering the building, huh?"
"Pardon me?"
Felder looked away, uncomfortable. “I kind of thought you might, you know, need an invitation or something."
Raj's first instinct was to scoff, but he thought better of it. It was a generous gesture, and besides, it might come in handy later to have a friendly contact inside the department. “No,” he said. “But thanks for thinking of it, Felder. Public places like this, I can do just fine."
"Oh, right. Makes sense.” Felder gestured toward a closed door. “We're down this way.” He jerked his head at the desk cop who pushed a button somewhere. A loud buzz sounded and Felder pulled the door open, indicating Raj should go ahead of him. He would have preferred the cop go first, but that would have looked a little too paranoid, so he went on through.
They had taken only a few steps when that same perfume hit his senses. He lifted his head and grinned. Sarah Stratton was coming down the hall, along with another detective. She was obviously uncomfortable and embarrassed by whatever the detective was saying, and not yet aware that Raj was standing there.
"Look, I appreciate your effort in coming down here, Sarah,” the cop said, as they came closer. “But like I said, we have our own experts on these things."
"Of course. I just thought, well, since I do have contacts with the local vampire lord—"
She did? That was news to Raj. And it didn't make him happy. He didn't want Sarah Stratton within a hundred yards of Krystof or any other vampire. Except, of course, himself.
"Tony,” Detective Felder said.
The other detective looked up impatiently. “Yeah, just a minute, Dan. Look,” he said quietly, taking Sarah's arm. “Why don't you leave me your number and I'll—"
"No,” she said instantly. She glanced up nervously and froze, her eyes growing wider when she saw Raj watching her.
His lips curled into a pleased smile, although what he wanted to do was knock Tony's fucking hand off her arm.
"Tony,” Felder insisted. “This is Raymond Gregor."
Tony, presumably the Tony Scavetti Raj was supposed to meet, paid attention at last. He forgot the woman at his side to focus on Raj. “You're the vampire?"
Raj nodded. “And you must be the detective,” he responded. He took a cynical pleasure in Scavetti's automatic bristle of reaction as the human drew himself up to his full height—which was no more than five, eight—and flexed gym-built muscles beneath a too-tight jacket. Raj regarded him evenly. He'd met too many Scavettis in his long life, the ones who picked fights for no better reason than to prove no one was tougher than they were.
"Good to get those details out of the way,” Felder said, playing peacemaker. Something he probably had to do often if Scavetti was his partner. “Uh, Professor Stratton?” he reminded Scavetti.
Scavetti frowned, but switched his attention back to Sarah. “Yeah. Sarah, I'm sure Gregor here can answer any questions. In fact, you two probably know each other, right?"
A bright pink blush spread along her cheek bones as she looked up at Raj, staining her otherwise porcelain-pale skin. Her hazel eyes darkened almost gray with emotion and lingered a heartbeat too long before dropping to hide behind thick eyelashes.
"Mr. Gregor,” she said softly.
"Professor Stratton,” Raj purred. He took
her hand and tugged, smoothly extricating her from Tony's grasp and drawing her close enough that he could breathe in her scent, shutting out the smells of sweaty cops and burned coffee. His action startled her into looking up and meeting his eyes again.
"I hate to interrupt,” Scavetti said snidely. Raj just barely held back a furious snarl at the interruption, and he felt Sarah's jolt of surprise, as if she'd forgotten Scavetti was even standing there. “Could we get on with this please?” the detective asked.
Raj glanced at Scavetti and permitted a cloud of disdain to cross his expression before he shut it down completely. “Of course, Detective,” he said. “I'll just walk Professor Stratton out to her car first."
Sarah flashed him a startled look, but Raj only bowed slightly and gestured down the hallway. She gave him a weak smile and shivered slightly when she walked past him. Raj swallowed his grin and followed, watching the muted sway of her hips beneath that bulky winter coat and wishing she was wearing something light and silky like before. Maybe a soft skirt, something to play around her slender legs above those sexy high heels she seemed to favor. He glanced back to find the two cops staring at him and shrugged gracefully. “This will only take a moment,” he assured them.
"What the fuck?” he heard Scavetti swear before he'd gone ten steps. “What's he going to do to her?"
"Looks like they know each other, Tony,” Felder responded in a bored tone. “What do you think he's gonna do? Drain her in the parking lot? Besides what do you care?"
"Fuck you, Dan. I might not want her on this case, but that doesn't mean I want some fucking vampire sucking on her neck either."
Raj chuckled and stopped listening. He caught up with Sarah just as she pushed open the outside door, letting in a rush of much fresher air.
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Chapter Thirteen
Sarah put her shoulder into the heavy door, sucking in a cold breath and telling herself she'd done everything she could to help Trish. Scavetti had been—well, not polite, but probably as polite as he ever got. Every other word out of the man's mouth was an expletive, although he had tried to censor himself for her benefit. And she was sure he'd only agreed to give her the five minutes he had because, according to Linda, he was hoping to hook up with her.
And then, of course, there was Raj. She'd looked pretty stupid once he'd shown up. If she'd known he would be here, she'd never have come down in the first place. And not just because he made her look foolish with the cops, either. That man, that vampire, was nothing but trouble. Every time she got within two feet of his gorgeous self, her IQ seemed to drop about forty points. And he knew it, too. The arrogance just oozed out of him, he was so damned sure of . . . The weight of the thick glass door suddenly disappeared as a long arm reached over her shoulder. The light from the lobby disappeared, casting her into shadow, and she looked up, not surprised to see Raj right behind her, his easy grin not fooling her for a second.
She murmured her thanks and stepped out onto the landing, pulling her coat closed and hunching deeper into its warmth. “I'm fine, Raj,” she said quickly. “You don't have to—” She jerked her gaze sideways as the solid thunk of a car door punctuated the night. Across the parking lot, a chauffeur had just stepped out of a long, black limo to grab some fresh air. She couldn't be positive, but she didn't think the vehicle had been there when she'd arrived at the station. It could be anyone, of course. Limos weren't common—except on prom nights—but they weren't completely rare in the city either. But for some reason—maybe it was the phone call Tony had received while she sat in his office—she was convinced this one belonged to William Cowens, and that meant Edward Blackwood was nearby. She immediately turned her back on the lobby and stepped away from the lights, just in case. Raj caught her reaction, naturally, and slipped an arm over her shoulders, his great bulk effectively hiding her from both the limo and the lobby. She could feel him studying the limo and its driver over her head.
"Come on, Sarah,” he said. “I'll walk you to your car.” He started down the stairs with her firmly in the curve of his arm. “And you can tell me why you don't want Williams Cowens to know you're here.” Sarah nearly missed the next step, but his solid strength kept her upright. He tucked her against his body with a low chuckle. “I love the boots, sweetheart,” he murmured. But they're not the best choice for the icy streets around here."
Sarah felt a rush of pleasure that he'd noticed her admittedly sexy high-heeled boots, but cursed her own clumsiness. “I didn't expect to be walking much,” she muttered. “And I'm not worried about William Cowens."
"No? Then maybe it's the limo driver. A former lover, perhaps?” He said it lightly, but there was a definite growl on his last words.
Sarah laughed. “Right, it's the limo driver. I was just startled, that's all. I'm not used to hanging around police stations."
They had reached her car by then. Sarah beeped the locks open and Raj reached around her to open the door. “Is it Blackwood?” he persisted.
She threw her bag across the seat and gave him an exasperated look. “I told you. I don't even know—"
Raj placed one hand on the door and braced himself against the roof of her car with the other, effectively trapping her. He was so damn big. She stifled a brief, irrational urge to run, looking up to meet his amused gaze instead. “Do you know how lie detectors work, Sarah?"
She frowned in confusion at the seeming non sequitur. “Of course. When a person lies about something, there are physiological changes that give him away. Pulse rate, respiration . . . and probably some other things too. It's not exactly my field, but what—"
He leaned down until his mouth was at her ear. “Your pulse and respiratory rates just rocketed, little one. And your luscious heart is going pitty-pat. Either you're madly in love with me, or you're not being totally honest. Although it might be both.” She felt the soft touch of his tongue along the curve of her ear. “Delicious,” he whispered.
She shivered and forced herself to meet his icy blue eyes. Except they weren't quite so icy anymore. She licked her lips, and those eyes followed the movement of her tongue before returning to meet her gaze with a slow, sensuous blink. Ice can be hot, too, she reminded herself.
"Why do you care?” she managed to say.
"You didn't come down here to offer advice on vampires,” he chided her gently. “Of course, there's your close relationship with Lord Krystof . . .” He let the words trail off suggestively.
"I don't really know him,” she admitted. “Although, I did, er, see him at a University reception once. And I could probably get Cyn to set up a meeting or—"
"I don't think so,” he interrupted harshly.
Sarah looked up at him in surprise and caught the dying flash of some emotion in his eyes. “If you have any questions about vampires, you can ask me,” he said. “No one else."
"Excuse me?” she said, his high-handed attitude restoring some of her usual backbone.
Raj gave her a charming smile, one that almost made her forget her newfound determination. “Lord Krystof doesn't deal with humans much. Whereas I—” He nuzzled her cheek softly, placing his lips once again at her ear. “I am at your complete disposal."
Sarah didn't need a vampire to tell her that her heartbeat had just gone into overdrive. She turned her face into his, struck by the smoothness of his cheek, by the warm, masculine scent of his skin. “Raj,” she murmured.
"Yes?"
"What are we doing?"
He laughed. “I must be out of practice if you need to ask me that."
Sarah smiled up at him, feeling relaxed and warm, just like she had in the club. It was strange how he could make her feel that way—strange and a little troubling. She started to turn, intending to slip into her car, but Raj had other ideas. He wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her up to her toes and kissed her—a long, soft, sensuous seduction of mouth and tongue. When he finally ended the kiss, tracing her jaw with his lips as he set her carefully back on her own
two feet, she held onto him, not entirely certain she could remain standing on her own.
"I have to go back inside,” he murmured, even as he continued to taste her, his mouth moving slowly from cheek to cheek and down to her neck, where he lingered. “Why don't I come by your place later.” He bit gently into her neck and then kissed away the small pain. “And we can talk all about what's really going on here."
Sarah forced herself to breathe, to take a half step back. She stumbled into the doorframe of her car with a jolt and Raj steadied her with a hand on her arm. She stared up at him, a bit stunned to realize she was actually considering it. He was a vampire. She'd known him only a few days, really only a few hours, and she was seriously considering inviting him over to her house. To talk. Right.
"Are you messing with my mind, Raj?” she asked softly.
"I sure as hell hope so."
She laughed and shook her head at her own foolishness. “Not all of us can stay up all night. I've got to teach tomorrow and it's already late."
"Tomorrow night then,” he persisted.
She smiled, thinking of Linda's birthday celebration for Sam—what would her friend do if she showed up with a vampire as her date? “I'm already committed to a friend tomorrow night."
"What kind of friend?” he demanded, scowling.
She gave him an exasperated look. “Not that it's any of your business,” she said pointedly. “But she's a friend from the University. It's her husband's birthday party."
"Fine. I'll meet you after."
"Maybe. I don't know—” Her next words were cut off as he lifted her effortlessly and covered her mouth with another lingering kiss. She heard herself moaning softly against his lips and knew if he'd asked at that moment, she would have gone with him anywhere he wanted. He let her go gently, her body sliding down his in a slow, suggestive glide that left little doubt as to the state of his own arousal. She leaned against his chest, feeling safe in the circle of his arms as she caught her breath. “Do you know where I live?” she asked softly.
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