The Vampire’s Kiss

by Vivi Anna

  The assailant or assailants had to have been very strong to be able to hold a vampire still enough to impale him with stakes into wallboard. That took a lot of power and finesse. Cale’s money was on another vampire, or two.

  He peered at the stakes. There was nothing remarkable about them. Just the standard wooden stake, oak most likely. He imagined a person could pick them up anywhere, on eBay even, or they could be homemade. Either way, they’d be virtually untraceable—to modern-day investigative techniques. He had something else in mind.

  Glancing at the doorway to make sure he was alone, Cale rubbed his fingers together on his right hand. Carefully, he reached for the stake impaling the body through the heart. He touched the end of the wood. Nothing hit him immediately, so he moved his fingers down over the slope of the stake, searching for that thin thread that would connect him.

  After another few seconds of searching, he found what he was looking for. Like a shock of adrenaline, heat surged through his fingers and up his arm.

  Closing his eyes, he saw ragged snippets of images coming at him at a rapid-fire pace.

  A room. Small, cramped and dirty. Two men, with vague faces that he couldn’t discern, talking.

  But Cale couldn’t hear the words. Another scene flashed by. A van. Again something old and dirty.

  Two different men. Then Luc Dubois’s front door. It opened, and a man Cale assumed to be Luc smiled and let the men in. After that, the images flashed by too fast, too blurred by the speed. But Cale saw blood, lots and lots of blood. And the last image, which seemed to last longer than the others, was the face of a young woman, a teenager perhaps, with piercing blue eyes. Then everything went blank.

  He blinked open his eyes as he dropped his hand from the stake. His fingers tingled from the energy that had flowed out of it and into him. The feeling always lasted for a few hours afterward. But he figured it was worth it, considering the information he was usually able to glean. This time it hadn’t been so easy. Violence like this usually left a bad essence. And he unfortunately could feel it through his thoughts.

  “You’re a touch telepath.”

  Startled, Cale turned toward the door. Olena stood in the doorway, watching him. He couldn’t read the look on her face, but it definitely wasn’t surprise he was seeing.

  He clenched his hand tight, trying to push the tingling sensation away, but it was as stubborn as he was. He moved toward her.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

  “I don’t like to advertise it.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t meet her gaze. He didn’t want her to know that he wasn’t proud of his power. When he was younger it had been a nuisance. Now it was just a tool for him to use on his job.

  “Why do you think?”

  “Because you don’t want to be a freak. Because you were teased as a child, maybe even feared because of the things you could see.”

  He met her gaze then. She was perceptive. Unnervingly so. “I wasn’t teased for long.”

  She shook her head. “No, I imagine after a while you probably beat the crap out of anyone who said anything to you.”

  He smiled then. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

  “Does Interpol know about your gift?”

  “My immediate boss, maybe a few other key players.” He rubbed his hand on his pants. It still tingled. “That’s why they indulge my ‘feelings.’”

  With narrowed eyes, she looked at him. “Can you read people?”

  “No, just objects. People are much too complicated to get a bead on.” He turned off his flashlight and slipped it into his jacket. She was still watching him with a wariness he hadn’t seen from her before. “Are you worried that I’ve peeked into your head?”

  “Not at all. With me, pretty much what you see is what you get.”

  He eyed her, likely lingering too long on her glorious mouth. “I highly doubt that.”

  She smiled then. “You know, Cale, you choose the most interesting times and places to flirt. That says a lot about you, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not flirting.” He smoothed a hand down his tie. At least he didn’t think he was deliberately flirting with her.

  “Right, tell that to the ton of pheromones you’re giving off.” Before he could answer, she strolled back into the game room. “The team is on its way. I’m going to go to the car, get my kit and start dusting the scene.”

  Discreetly, Cale sniffed at himself. Was he really producing that much? Could she really smell it, or was she just yanking his chain? He was a sick bastard to be thinking about sex at a crime scene, but he had to admit that every time Olena was near him, carnal thoughts blasted his mind like dynamite. Unfortunately, his body was feeling the effects.

  Chapter 7

  They found Luc Dubois’s head in the master bedroom, propped up on a pillow at the foot of his bed. Olena thought it was very Godfather-like. It reminded her of Mafia-style warfare. Vampire society was hierarchical, but she didn’t think it functioned like the mob. It was based more in aristocracy, with lords and ladies and those who had money and power.

  But power was power, no matter how one achieved it or wielded it.

  And whoever had executed and decapitated Luc Dubois possessed power. Or at the very least desired it greatly.

  The team had processed the basement, bagging and tagging the three glasses, the body, and then the head after the coroner had come and done his thing. Olena had dusted for prints and found a lot of smudges on the pool cues, the pool balls and the equipment in the makeshift dungeon. It was obvious the victim did a lot of entertaining. Going through those prints was going to be like sifting through sugar for a grain of salt.

  And once Gabriel had done some digging, they knew why the vampire had been so popular.

  Luc Dubois had been the owner and proprietor of several fashionable nightclubs around the city. Both mainstream human clubs and Otherworlder bars.

  One in particular stood out. Phantasia, a well-known magic sex club that had organized-crime ties.

  When Gabriel had mentioned it to Cale, the agent’s eyes had lit up. Gabriel had agreed that Olena would head over there with Cale to interview the regulars just as soon as the crime scene was finished and Phantasia was in full swing. Olena glanced at her watch. It was only around nine at night, still too early to go to the club.

  And by the looks of Cale, discreetly yawning behind his hand, he needed a couple of hours’ rest before they continued.

  Clicking her kit shut, she walked to where he leaned against the wall and watched as the team finished up their work. “Looks like you could use some rest.”

  “I’m fine. I can go forty-eight hours if need be.”

  “Well, this isn’t a need-be situation.” She made a point of looking at her watch again. “We have a good five hours before the club is in full swing. I could take you to your hotel and you could catch a couple of hours of sleep.”

  “What about you?”

  She smiled. “I’m a night owl.”

  “Okay. I could stand to change my shirt, anyway. And I’d like to read up on these organized-crime links to the victim.”

  She left her kit with Gabriel and let him know that she was taking Cale to his hotel and then would pick him up again to go down to the club. The inspector just nodded and gave her one of his good-luck pats on the back.

  The drive to Cale’s downtown hotel was quiet. Cale was busy on his BlackBerry as Olena drove. She didn’t want to talk, anyway. After seeing a decapitated body and then finding the head propped up like a door prize, what did someone talk about?

  Olena had seen vampires executed before. One didn’t live as long as she had and not see things like that. But the last execution had been over sixty years ago. She had hoped the world had moved past that kind of barbaric behavior. Obviously, that was a wishful fantasy.

  She had reacted strongly to the scene. It had proved a moment of weakness. And in that weakness she had allowed Cale to comfort her. He had
surprised her by the gentleness of his embrace and the intimate way he’d stroked her hair. The moment had obviously weakened him as well. He didn’t strike her as the kind of man to crumble under pressure or soften with sympathy. But he had. With her. She could still remember the way his heart had picked up a beat when he held her close, and the enticing scent of his cologne. It had sent a signal straight to the heart of her. Her belly had tightened and she’d been close to quivering in his arms.

  She was definitely not a woman who quivered easily. And not when sex wasn’t involved. Cale was starting to seep into her psyche. And she didn’t like that much. She could feel herself losing her footing.

  Soon, if she didn’t check herself, she’d be falling right into his waiting arms.

  When she pulled up to the hotel, she had every intention of just dropping him off and going on her way. But when she parked, he looked at her with something akin to need in his eyes. Or maybe it was just desire. And then, on the pretense of food and conversation, he invited her to his room.

  It was very difficult for a vampiress to say no to an invitation.

  So she parked the car and followed him up to his room. She told herself that she was indeed hungry and that she couldn’t do the case any good if she was light-headed from not eating. Vampires had quick metabolisms and needed to refuel constantly with either food or blood or both.

  As they walked down the corridor toward his fifth-floor room, Olena stopped at one of the vending machines. She popped in the change and pressed the button for AB positive. It was her favorite type.

  When she reached down to snatch the bottle from the bin, she caught Cale’s expression.

  She arched one brow in question as she unscrewed the cap on the bottle. “You don’t mind, do you? I’m parched.”

  He shook his head, but as she started to drink, his face visibly paled. Interesting. She hadn’t thought he had any fear of Otherworlders when she first met him. He’d been confident, cocky even, and totally unafraid of their special differences. But there was something there. Fear possibly, but likely something else.

  They continued to walk as she drank. When they reached his hotel room door, she finished the last of the blood, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and dropped the bottle into the recycle bin along one wall. Nouveau Monde was a very green city.

  Cale slid the key card into the slot and opened the door. Olena followed him in and shut the door behind her. He tossed his suit jacket onto the sofa in the living area as he walked toward the bedroom door.

  “I’m going to change. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “Are you hungry? I could call room service.”

  “Sure,” he said from the bedroom.

  Olena picked up the phone, then set it down again. She glanced toward the partially open bedroom door, then down to the floor. Her heart rate had picked up a little. Cale’s scent was a lot more intense and concentrated in the room. She had to make a conscious effort not to inhale it and sigh from its full, rich aroma.

  Clenching her hands into fists, she did a circuit around the room, trying hard not to think about him naked as he changed his clothes. But she couldn’t help the images that popped into her mind. She imagined the width of his broad shoulders and the slope of his chest to his hard, flat stomach. She had no doubt that he’d have ripples of muscle all the way down to the waistband of his pants. She wondered if there would be a line of hair to follow or if he was smooth all over.

  She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and did another quick trip around the room. But it didn’t help. She ended up at the bedroom door. She pushed it open and walked in.

  Cale was standing near the bed with his back to the door, shirtless. He’d been reaching for another shirt that was laid out on the bed when she entered.

  He turned around, his face dark with either anger or desire. She couldn’t tell which. It didn’t matter.

  She’d take either.

  “I was going to ask you what you wanted to eat.”

  She took a step closer. “But then I realized I didn’t really care.”

  “Olena…”

  “Yeah, I know. This is a bad idea. And I told myself I didn’t really want you, that having you would be a huge mistake. But I don’t really care about that, either. Not right now.”

  He had yet to cover himself. And she’d been right about his shoulders and his hard, rippling stomach.

  His chest was smooth except for a small patch of brown hair around his navel. Olena wanted to run her fingers through that hair as she lowered the zipper on his trousers.

  “You’ve had a bit of a shock tonight, Olena. It’s understandable that you’d want to forget about it, put it out of your mind. But this is probably not the best way.”

  She took another step closer. “Please. Don’t treat me like a young, innocent girl. I’m a full-grown woman, if you haven’t noticed. And far from innocent.”

  It was obvious he’d noticed by the way he was looking at her now. His gaze raked over her body, lingering on the swell of her breasts and then her mouth. She took that as an invitation and drew closer to him. They were now only two feet apart.

  She could feel the heat of his body even from this distance. She could also hear the thumping of his blood in his veins, especially in his neck.

  “I know what’s good for me and what isn’t,” she said. “I’ve lived long enough to accept my regretful moments. And trust me, this won’t be one of them.”

  She didn’t wait for his response. Within seconds she breached the distance between them and kissed him. His lips were soft and hot against hers and offered no resistance to her prodding.

  He swept his tongue into her mouth and buried his hands in her hair, holding her tight. Sighing, she licked and sucked on his lips and tongue, enjoying the way he tasted. She could clearly taste the danger and the dark in him. It was there hovering on the edge. She wondered how much it would take to push him over it. She’d always been a sucker for a dangerous man, which was why all four of her marriages over the past almost three hundred years had been to men who’d been considered rakes, scoundrels and criminals in their time.

  Cale was a different type of dangerous. He was the type of man who could be pushed to his limits, depending on the situation. Pushed to break something, like a moral code, and plunge headfirst into something that he never thought he’d ever want. She could sense that in him. And she had a feeling he had a moral code about sleeping with a vampiress.

  She could sense the struggle in him as he feasted on her mouth and ran his hands down her hair to her lower back. He quaked beneath her hands as she stroked his smooth, hard flesh. How much would it take to shove him past his principles? A flick of her fingers, a stroke of her hand, a well-placed kiss on some other part of his anatomy? She was willing to find out.

  He moaned into her mouth as her hands trailed lower. Her fingers played through the coarse hair around his navel, just as she’d hoped. But when those deft, eager fingers neared the button on his pants, Cale broke away from her kiss.

  “Stop,” he panted. But the look in his eyes told her he didn’t want her to stop. Far from it. She could plainly see the war inside him between what he thought was right and what felt so damn good.

  “Are you kidding?” she breathed, hardly able to rein herself in. It took all she had to stop from tearing at the zipper on his trousers. She ached to feel the hot, hard length of him in her hand. To feel the blood thump in his veins.

  He covered her hands with his. “This will just make working together complicated.”

  “Like hell it will.” She dropped her hands and stared at him, unable to hide her disappointment.

  “For you maybe. I’m completely fine with it. It won’t affect my work at all.”

  “Well, I guess you’re a lot stronger than I am.”

  He dropped his gaze and went to pick up his shirt still lying on the bed.

  “It’s because I’m a vampire, isn’t it?”

  “No, that’s not it.” H
e shook his head, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  She got it now. Complete understanding came to her in a rush of air. He was afraid of her, of what she could do to him if she wanted. He’d been hurt before. She could see it now. Another vampire in another time had hurt Cale.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you, Cale. I wouldn’t take what you don’t want to offer.”

  He looked at her then, and she saw that she’d been right. Some other vampiress had taken from him what he hadn’t been willing to give up. She understood that look now. It was full of shame and guilt. As if he’d done something wrong and been punished for it.

  She searched his body with her eyes, wondering where he’d been bitten. Not on the neck. She would’ve seen the marks right away. Not on the wrist, either. Most likely on the inner thigh. It was a good place for both vampire and human. Both would’ve felt extreme pleasure. Euphoria, even.

  “Don’t.” The one word, spoken with cold, hard control, caused Olena to look up. He’d known what she’d been looking for.

  “I’m sorry, Cale. I didn’t realize.”

  “Could you please leave? I’d like to get a couple hours’ sleep before we head to the club.”

  “I’ll leave,” Olena said, her hands out as if to show him that she was defenseless, harmless. “But I want you to know that I would never do that to you. Never.”

  He just nodded and continued to button his shirt.

  Without another word, Olena turned and left the room. There was nothing she could say to make him believe her. That would take time. Normally, she was not a patient woman when it came to men. But for the first time in a long time, she wanted to wait for this one.

  Chapter 8

  After Olena left his hotel room, Cale didn’t sleep as he’d said he would. He’d lied about being tired. He’d just needed her to leave. The sensations she brought out in him were so intense, they scared him. And her insight into why he was scared freaked him out. She’d hit it right on.

  Six years ago he’d met a woman, Marta, during a case—she worked for the agency—and fell headfirst in love with her. Well, maybe it hadn’t really been love. Intense, breath-stealing desire most likely. The type of desire that encompassed a person’s entire life. That was what it was like with her. Overpowering.