Shadow Image

by Jaye Roycraft

  She was unprepared for the result. The intensity of sensation captured her mind and destroyed all thought. She saw nothing but wild pinwheels of color, felt nothing except him inside her, deeper than she ever thought possible. She heard sounds and realized she had given them voice, cries and moans that were as out of control as everything else her beleaguered senses relayed to her. She felt herself climax, over and over, unable to control her release. He held her and rocked against her, his thrusts accelerating in a relentless rhythm, until, finally, as spent as she was, his release came with a final, hard drive.

  His weight came down on her, and he burrowed his head in the crook of her neck. His breath, coming in hard gasps, fanned her heated skin. His mouth pressed against her neck, and she felt his teeth rake against her skin.

  She fought for air, not realizing until now how fast and ragged her own breathing was. “Ric,” she whispered. “I can’t breathe.”

  He paused, then pulled out of her and rolled to the side. Her body straightened, and she stretched out her legs. But her mind was still reeling to Earth, and it took a few moments for her thought processes and normal sensory perception to return to her.

  It was Ric’s voice, husky and almost unintelligible, that broke the silence. “You should get some sleep.”

  Such a mild statement after such incredible lovemaking disappointed her, but even more upsetting was the sudden worry that he would just up and go home. “You’re not leaving, are you?” Her heart started to pound again, not from excitement this time, but fear.

  He turned toward her, leaning on one elbow, but she couldn’t see his face. His tangled hair fell forward, throwing his features into black shadow. “No. Not until I have to—or until you want me to leave.”

  Right now she couldn’t imagine ever wanting him to leave. “Ric, I know you came here with something on your mind—something other than this, I mean.” She reached out a hand and stroked his arm with her fingertips. “You said you didn’t want to discuss it, but I want you to know that you can talk to me anytime, about anything. There’ve been lots of times when I needed an ear, and nobody wanted to listen.”

  “Like this week?”

  How did he know? “Do your many talents include mind reading?”

  The question was asked in jest, but when he raked a hand through his hair and moonlight from the window illuminated a faint smile, Shelby shivered. She believed him capable of anything, even mind reading. But that was impossible.

  SHE AWOKE, ROLLED over, and saw that it was still dark out. A glance at her bedside clock told her that, tired as she was, she had slept less than three hours. She just wasn’t used to having a man in her bed. Today was an off day for her, and she had no plans to work unless called in. Spending all day in bed with Ric would be fine with her. She slowly turned around so that she faced Ric again. He was gazing at her with hooded eyes.

  “You have to go to work?”

  She shook her head. “Not today.”

  “You must think me terribly selfish. Your one day off, and here I am monopolizing your time.”

  She pretended to frown. “And here I thought you had special powers. I guess you’re not a mind reader after all, because I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

  He flashed teeth that shone even in the dark, a very different smile from the small sardonic grin he had given her earlier. “No special powers? I think I’m insulted.”

  She leaned over and kissed him, almost sorry she was spoiling the beautiful sight of the serious doctor engaging in a rare dimple-popping smile. Almost. He returned the kiss, and more. With the memory of what they had done only hours before so fresh in her mind, her desire flared immediately. When he released her mouth to caress her neck, she whispered in his ear. “You don’t have to be insulted. Your powers are alive and well.”

  Ric’s response was a reverberation low in his throat that sounded like a half-groan, half-growl. He laid a track of fire down the length of her neck, adding to the ache she already felt with every kiss planted and every stroke of his tongue. His breath on her moist skin sent prickles of hot and cold skittering along her limbs, and she twisted to face him more fully, wanting to give him more access to her body. Then, suddenly, amongst the soft, wet heat, she felt his teeth on her neck, sharp and hard.

  “Ric, don’t.” She rolled away from him. “Please, don’t do anything the uniform shirt won’t hide.”

  He was breathing heavily, his face again hidden by the curtain of long hair. He was quiet, and the silence confused her.

  “Did you hear me?”

  He drew a long, deep lungful of air, and his breathing appeared to steady. “I heard you. I should leave. I underestimated my reaction to you. For me to stay would be . . . dangerous.”

  She knew it. It was too good to be true. “Dangerous? What are you talking about?”

  In one fluid movement, he was off the bed and reaching for his briefs. “It’s better after all if you don’t get in too deep with me. I’m not what you think.”

  Shelby scrambled to pull on her shorts. “No games, please. Just stay and talk to me,” she pleaded, yanking open a dresser drawer and pulling out a T-shirt. If she was going to have to run after him, she didn’t want to do it naked.

  His jeans on, he simply stood in the shadows of her bedroom.

  She pressed on, encouraged by his hesitancy. “All right. No more sex. Just talk to me in the living room. What can that hurt?”

  “More than you know, but very well. We’ll talk.”

  He led her back to the living room, where the long-burning candles were still flickering in the fireplace. He stretched out on the sofa and held out his hand to her. She took it and joined him, nestling her back against his chest. She faced away from him so she could stare at the candlelight. But when he slowly wound his arms around her, all she could look at were the muscles of his strong forearms and the long fingers of his large hands.

  “What’s all this about being dangerous and not who I think you are?”

  “Never mind what I said. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in this situation, that’s all.”

  “And you’re scared? So am I.”

  SCARED? RIC THOUGHT. Confused and in agony was closer to the truth. He had hungered for a taste of life. And he had indeed savored it, if only for a few moments. Being inside Shelby had made him feel like the young Ricard De Chaux, eldest son of le comte, privileged, wealthy, and on top of the world. In his innocence, he thought that would be enough. It wasn’t.

  For those few moments, he had been alive, and it had been glorious. But his climax had been like the drop of the guillotine’s blade. Life was given, and life was taken away.

  Though he still held her loosely, the reality of what he was returned in full force. Blood. It was always the blood. It was still taking nearly all his control to refrain from satisfying his hunger for her blood. Following their lovemaking, his bloodlust had risen to nearly an unbearable level. He should have just taken her and compelled her later to forget it had ever happened. But something had made him hesitate, just nipping at her instead, giving her time to react and roll away from him. His control, surely, had fought against the lust, making his moves tentative, but why? Why did he try so hard with this mortal to manage his baser instincts? What could he hope to gain? Thus far the results had been disastrous. Not only had his satisfaction been denied, but he had upset Shelby and put her on her guard. And he had committed the unforgivable sin of revealing too much about his true nature with his utterances about being dangerous and not what she thought he was. He could barely concentrate now on what she was saying.

  “Sorry, my sweet, what did you say?”

  “Just that it’s been a long time for me, too.”

  He tried to gather his thoughts. “You said before that you had no one to listen to you. What about family and friends?”

 
“I don’t have a lot of friends. Women don’t understand me, and I think I intimidate most men.”

  “What about the people you work with? Surely they appreciate what you do.”

  She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I think a few of the guys have a grudging respect for me, but there’s more prejudice than anything else. They don’t think a female should be sheriff. If I’m soft, then they think I’m weak and can’t cut it. If I’m tough on them, then I’m a bitch. I can’t win during the best of times.” She shook her head. “And a week like this one . . . everyone’s calling for my head on a platter.”

  “I haven’t seen anything in the paper or on the news.”

  “No, of course not. This is a tourist area. Homicide investigations and controversy are not tourist-friendly. Everyone smiles to my face. The knives are all in the back.”

  “What about your family?”

  She was silent, twisting slightly in his embrace, almost as if she was trying to escape from the question. He didn’t push her. Finally, after about two minutes, she spoke. Her voice was so soft that he wasn’t sure he would have been able to hear her without his heightened vampiric senses.

  “My parents were killed three years ago. It was one of the reasons I moved here. Partly, I guess, to get away from the city and the memories, and partly because my uncle was here. After my folks died, Uncle Barry became the most important person in my life.”

  “You told me your uncle died last year.”

  She nodded. “So now . . . well, the only relatives left are scattered around the country.”

  They were both quiet after that. He stared at the wavering pinpricks of light in the fireplace and considered her words. Her parents had been killed. Not simply died, but had been killed. Just like his own family. He felt an uncharacteristic connection to this woman that made him glad for his earlier restraint, hard as it had been.

  Shelby cleared her throat and twisted on his lap so that she could see him. “Umm, I’m not looking for you or anybody else to feel sorry for me. Maybe it came out like that, but that’s not what I want.”

  Even in the low light he could see that her eyes gleamed with emotion. He stroked her hair with his fingertips, afraid that if he touched her skin, his hard-won control would crumble. “Don’t worry. Dispensing pity has never been part of my bedside manner.”

  Her brows scrunched together in a questioning look, then she smiled. “You’re purring again, but this time it’s coming from your crotch. You do have a unique bedside manner, Doctor. I agree—much nicer than pity.”

  “Excuse me.” He moved his legs, dislodging her from his lap, and reached deep inside his jeans pocket for the pager that was indeed vibrating its waiting message. He had no trouble reading the number even in the near dark. It was Tux’s phone number. In his hurry to reach Shelby’s house, Ric had left his cell phone at home. He let out a long sigh and looked up at her. His responsibilities as Overlord were never far away. “I need to use your phone.”

  She cocked her head toward the kitchen. “On the counter. It’s cordless. Take it into the bedroom if you like.”

  He did, and in a few moments returned to the living room. Shelby was in the kitchen, a tall glass of water in her hand.

  “You have to go, don’t you? No call at night can be good news.”

  He replaced the phone on the counter. “It’s not an emergency. I can stay a little while longer.”

  “I’m dying of thirst. You want something?”

  “Give me the rest of that water. You go blow out those candles. We could both use some more sleep.”

  She smiled, handed him the glass, and ran back to the living room on silent bare feet while he emptied the glass into the sink and rinsed it out. Tux hadn’t been happy. He was worried about Eva, but more than that, he sounded more than a little put out with Ric. Well, Judson Tuxbridge and the problems of the Cristallia County Council could wait a few more hours. Ric had more important matters to attend to, and they involved a very warm, willing female and a queen-size bed.

  Nine

  RIC LEFT SHELBY’S house three hours later. In spite of his good intentions, more of that time had been spent making love than sleeping. His movements had all been slow and easy, designed to help him keep a firm grip on the leash that held the vampiric beast inside him. It had worked, but it hadn’t been easy. The more leisurely his kisses, the more his mouth and hands had lingered, the more frenzied she had become, and in the end it was her passion, as much as his own, that nearly undid him.

  He had promised to call later that evening to try to arrange another Moonlight Madness date, and she had seemed disappointed at the prospect of having to wait a whole sixteen hours to see him again. It was a notion that both amused and awed him—that a mortal female could react so strongly to him without either the dark lure of the truth of what he really was, or the dressed-up fantasy of the vampire mirror, which would show her the ideal of all she wanted. But frustrated as she may have been, she knew as well as he did that they both needed to catch up on much needed sleep. Besides, he had business to attend to—the pressing business of the Undead which never went away.

  As soon as he got home he called Tux and told him to come to the Chicken Palace. Tuxbridge arrived fifteen minutes later, and it was obvious from the moment he swept in the door that he had risen on the wrong side of the coffin. His hair was as rumpled as his shirt, and there was both lightning in his flashing eyes and thunder in the low rumble of his voice.

  He didn’t bother with so much as a token pleasantry. “Where were you all night? I tried your home phone and your cell phone a dozen times each.”

  Gloves-off was fine by Ric. He had felt this confrontation building for several days now, and the bloodlust that had risen with Shelby screamed for satisfaction. “By what right, my friend, do you question my whereabouts?”

  “When I feel your actions endanger all of us, I have more than enough right.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  Tux circled Ric slowly. “You’ve been with the sheriff tonight. I saw your face when we were in the van and you watched her walk across the parking lot.”

  “So?”

  “So you weren’t just discussing the case with her. Her scent is all over you, so strong I’m surprised not to see her in this room.”

  “What I do or don’t do with mortals is none of your business.”

  “If I thought you were influencing her to put a halt to the investigation, I wouldn’t care. Tell me that’s all you were doing, and I’ll say no more.”

  Ric stared at his adjutant without a blink. “Of course that’s what I was doing. After last night she’s mine. She’ll do whatever I want. If I had something to hide from you, don’t you think I would have showered and changed before I called you to come over here?”

  Tux hesitated. “Perhaps. I wouldn’t think you, of all the Undead, would be so imprudent as to parade an ill-advised mortal liaison in front of your second, but foolish decisions are made all the time, aren’t they? I’m just making a point that needed to be made.”

  “Then consider it made. Move on to something important.”

  “Eva. I’d like to know what happened with her.”

  “Sit down, then. We’ll talk.”

  Only after Tux settled into a large easy chair did Ric do likewise. “Eva told the police that Kyle Carver had been a regular at the Diamond Stud for the two weeks preceding his death. She told them he was taken with her right from the start, giving her big tips, trying to buy her drinks, things like that. Then she said he started hanging around after the bar closed, wanting a date. Eva apparently doesn’t mind such sport under normal circumstances, but she said she had no desire at all for Carver. She called him a ‘pitiful excuse for a mortal, so full of alcohol and drugs that he had all the appeal of rotten food.’ Her words to me, of course, not the police. I don�
�t know why she didn’t volunteer this information to me days ago.”

  “I would imagine she was scared. She didn’t know you—didn’t know what you’d do to her. Your reputation is pretty fearsome, you know.”

  Ric took note of the mild sarcasm in Tux’s voice. “That’s no excuse for disobedience. Everyone in the council would be wise to remember that. Even you, my friend. I would hate to think that you were nothing more than a jackal.”

  “I forget nothing. What else did Eva say?”

  “She said she went so far as to ask the owner to evict Carver from the premises and have him arrested for trespassing if he returned. The owner wouldn’t do it, though. Apparently Carver was too good a customer. The disturbance that the bartender told the police about happened one night when Carver got more drunk than usual and started taunting Eva during her act, even getting up on stage with her. She claims that was the last night she saw him. Did you know that any of this had happened to Eva?”

  Tux straightened. “Are you accusing me of withholding information?”

  “I’m simply asking a question. I want to know why I didn’t hear of any of this before last night.”

  “Eva often talks about her exploits at the Diamond Stud, both her conquests and her complaints. But she never names those involved. They’re not people to her—they’re either food or entertainment or, in the case of Carver, a nuisance. When she talks about them she just refers to them as ‘the pretty mortal’ or ‘the stupid human.’ So even if Eva had told me about a man harassing her, I wouldn’t have connected him with the human who was killed.”

  Ric was silent for a moment as he digested what he had heard. Perhaps Eva and Tux were telling the truth, but he wouldn’t bet money on it. When backed into a corner, any vampire, himself included, was much more likely to spin a web of illusion than to bare all. It didn’t matter anyway. Truth wasn’t the most important thing here. Keeping everyone safe was. If the best armor against discovery was a pack of lies, so be it. As long as Eva crafted her story so that no human could contradict her, that was all that counted. As for Tux, now was not yet the time for a full-blown confrontation. His bloodlust would have to wait a little longer for satisfaction.