I couldn’t think about the card, and the little meaning on it. I didn’t want to. It had to be a fluke, a generic statement on a card for anyone named Caroline. The name wasn’t exactly unheard of. Still, the card continued to sit on the coffee table, waiting.
The exasperated sound in my throat told me I wasn’t about to let this go. I couldn’t. Not without more answers. I owed myself that much, if only in case some freak with a holy water laced rope came knocking on my door soon, ready to sweep me up in a kidnapping that would most definitely not be consensual.
I stared at the card, eyes narrowed, as my hands dug through the purse on the floor. His number was on speed dial, and he naturally picked up on the fourth ring. I didn’t need to say anything, he knew to simply show up.
Seven more minutes later, as nightfall rolled over the sky like a blanket of cerulean speckled in white, there was a knock at the door. It opened, someone stepped in, and the door closed shut behind them. He had always been the quiet type, even when he didn’t make it a point to embrace his vampiric side for whatever little blend of honor and dignity he used as his reasoning. I twisted around on the sofa, taking him in. The light blue button up shirt tightened around his chest and upper arms, the sleeves rolled halfway to expose more of his pale skin. Dark, tan pants and an even darker brown belt pulled together well with the brown boots he favored above all his other shoes.
He stopped inches inside the living room, toes touching a hint of the spotless white marble flooring. Teal eyes swept over me like ocean waves lapping the beach. “What happened?”
Jerking my head toward the coffee table, Sam’s eyes locked on the card. He was across the room in a flash, holding the card in his palm. I watched his face shift, from the expressionless mask he kept for his job, to the flicker of emotions I knew better before he ran off and married some trophy wife of a vamp with a knack for knitting sweaters.
“Where did you get this?” He asked, holding it between two fingers. With his free hand, he pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket, dropping the card in and sealing it shut.
I shrugged with indifference, leaning back into the leather and spreading my arms across the top. “Does it matter?”
“Absolutely, you know that.” Sam’s scolded with a snap. “Where?”
A sigh slipped between my lips, and I closed my eyes. If I kept them closed long enough, I could almost pretend I was sleeping like a normal, withering weakling of a mortal. The air stirred in front of me, hands grabbing onto my shoulders. They instantly connected to the memory of the last time those hands touched every inch of my body, from tip to toe.
I purred in delight. “Careful now, Sam. We wouldn’t want you to have any real fun by playing with me and my games.”
“Caroline, answer the damn question.”
“Can’t you just brag about being right first, then harass me with questions?” I whined, pouting.
His hands pulled off of my shoulders, the touch of cold air tingling my skin. I flipped open my eyes long enough to see Sam sigh heavily, running his hands through his hair, then finally sitting down alongside me. Bingo.
The second he was on the couch, I curled up alongside him, wrapping my hands around his waist as my head found home in his lap. “See, isn’t this better?”
He made a non-comital noise and did his best not to move beneath me. “Caroline, I’m married to—”
“Yes, yes. We all know about your little gazelle at home, grazing her way through the facade of being a normal married housewife that doesn’t drink blood or burn in daylight.” I huffed, making a face against his upper thigh. “She won’t know you fell into my clutches unless you spill your guts to her tomorrow night. Quit getting your boxers in a dick-twist.”
Sam snorted, practically choking on a laugh. “A what?”
“Dick-twist, look it up. It’s like dip-wad, only much more satisfying to say.” I smirked. “Not to mention the mental imagery that goes with it.”
He laughed again, shaking as he did it. “You know what, how about no thanks?”
For a moment, things were normal. Almost human-like. Sam had both a carnal and softening effect on me, one that awakened the monster within as much as it wanted to tame it and train it to use the litterbox. He was the only one that could do it to me, out of the hundreds I had met in my lifetime.
But like all things, it could never last. No more time for pretend. I had to know just how deep this went, how fucked up my life was about to get.
“So who is it?” I said, firing into the first of what would be hundreds of questions. “Who’s the shmuck that thinks it’s funny to leave my name tagged to failed hybrids?”
Sam’s hands slid over my shoulder and upper back, inching their way lower along my body. Every inch he seemed to hesitate more, but he never stopped. His fingers traced lazy circles around the knot of my bikini top, flicking at the strings every so many swirls.
“We don’t know much,” he started to say, murmuring the words as his lips pressed against the top of my head. “All we have are the three cases, and the two tarot cards. One of the more elite groups built for cases like this had more information. I grabbed copies of their documents.”
“And?”
His hands stopped moving for a moment, fingers pressing into my skin the way a masseuse would work out knots in a twisted back.
“They call themselves Mistress 13.” All emotion had pulled out from his voice, as if he were repeating what he read verbatim. “Allegedly, the name stands for the number of successful hybrids they have created, all with the intent of destroying our society and the veil of secrecy we keep between us and the mortals.”
Well, I wasn’t expecting a fairy godmother coming to offer me three wishes, but an organization hellbent on making more hybrids? It went above anything I had considered for the last ten years, during the few times I thought about who I was before I was experimented on and why I was abandoned.
“So you think there’s more of… me?” I asked, frowning. Somewhere during his explanation I had turned to stare directly up at him.
Sam’s face was grim, but there was a hint of something else, a little wickedness gleaming in his eye. “There will only ever be one of you, Caroline Gray. That much I can promise with my life.”
I flicked him in the chest, wrinkling my nose. “Considering you’re dead, that promise holds no weight.” I leaned up off his lap, bringing my lips to the side of his mouth as I whispered, “Nice try.”
His hands wrapped around my upper arms, pinning me back down against his lap. And that was all it took. The soft, innocent moment of tenderness evaporated from my senses, consumed by the need to lure Sam out like a precious pet. He was my toy, and I would take however long it needed to work to play my little games with him.
Shrugging out of his hands, I slid up into a sitting position, then slipped across his lap. My hips pressed against him as my legs spread wide, straddling every inch of his tightly coiled body.
“Since there’s only one of me, maybe you should treat me better,” I suggested, biting on my lower lip. My hips inched a little closer, pressing in the hard-on growing in his pants. No hands, not yet, I wanted to let my best asset do all the talking for the moment. “Remember the last time you touched me there, Sam?”
His eyes seemed to widen, hands locked rigid at his sides. Barely able to speak, he managed a forced, “No.”
“No?” I pouted, wounded. My hands pressed against his chest, slipping lower. “Well, that’s no good. Maybe I should refresh your memory a little.”
"The fun thing about being me is that I can ignore the bloodlust forever." I flexed my fingers in front of my face, checking for chips in the glossy red polish. "My appetite is much more geared towards... the richer delicacies of a person."
"You speak of souls like cannibals speak of cheeks," Sam said, shuddering. "I'll never understand it."
"Oh, but you already do." My fingers wrapped around his chin, and I pulled him close before he could resist. "Can you feel i
t, Coulson? The blood that pulses in my veins? That sweet, singing sigh that wraps around you like a thin trail of scented smoke, luring you closer, tempting you until it takes everything you are to resist the call." I ran my tongue across my lips slowly. "Don't tell me you've never felt that rush."
Sam's eyes flickered, dark blue and teal blurring. I could see the tiny shifts in his face, the way he processed the words slowly, letting his mind drown in it like a drunken man would in a puddle of whiskey. His hands found my lower back, pulling me closer until there was nothing between us but the delicate lace of my dress and the flimsy fabric of his pants.
"Don't pretend to know what I think," he growled, and I smirked. Another noise, this one more primal, loosened from his throat. "You don't know me, Caroline."
My free hand slid along his solid chest, leaving little ripples in the fabric as I tore though it without care. I stopped at the top of his pants, pinching the tanned leather belt between my fingers.
"Be careful, that pretty mouth of yours will one day get you in trouble with all those lies," I whispered before letting out a soft laugh. Little by little, I pulled away from him, sliding free of his strong arms and releasing his face. It was so tempting to undress him, to take him like the last time. No one would know. It wasn't like when vampires dominated each other. They marked with fangs in naughty places. But a succubus could get her kicks without a single mark left behind.
“You’ll be okay, Caroline,” he said, soft. I watched him with a curious stare at he moved to touch me, only to pull back. Still restraining himself, still pretending he could fake disdain for the succubus and her fangs.
I reached up to his face, brushing a curling bit of hair behind his ear and letting my hand linger on his cheek. My voice became a whisper of velvet on silken skin. “Will you?”
His jaw locked under my touch, eyes cold. Very slowly, as if he were holding his breath, Sam pulled his hand away from my face, dropping it at my side. He was silent from the moment he picked up his shirt off the floor, to the readjustment of his belt buckle. All satisfying noises, and all noises that somehow left me feeling rotten because I wasn’t able to get him to cave.
As he got to the door, Sam looked back at me, teal eyes flashing. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
SHAME, TOMORROW NEVER CAME.
Not long after Sam left, was when I began to fret. Fucking Mistress 13. Who in the hell were they? And what in the ever-loving fuck did they want with me now, ten years after releasing me into the world? If I was a project of theirs, why did they feel the need to intervene now?
Settling into the center of the mattress, I shoved off another freshly killed corpse when there was a knock at the door, startling me.
“Who the hell—”
Sam stepped into the room, or rather he tried to, only to be stopped at the sight of three male bodies stacked on top of each other pressing against the door frame.
"Jesus, Caroline. How the hell do you sleep at night?"
The words were effortless. "I imagine all the good I'm doing by continuing my prowl of the sexually depraved, bring them home to my lush silken red sheets, and make sure to push their corpses to the floor just before I turn off the lights."
He laughed, but it felt forced. He continued to drag his eyes over every inch of my body, concern written in his features. "Are you sure you're okay?"
I scoffed, but ignored the twist in my side that told me no. "I'll survive, buttercup. Let's just get the fuck back home."
We drove in silence, Sam guiding my pretty car with his strong and steady hands. The smells of the city, all smog and sweat, lingered in the air. It was as if we hadn't just spent the evening ruining a perfect pair of heels in the name of finding the rat bastard that came after me in the first place.
Pulling up to my place, Sam put the car in park and the emergency break in place before unbuckling my belt. "Go get your things."
I looked at him, confused. "Where the hell are we going?"
"You're not staying here."
"The hell I'm not. When did you become my knight in shining armor?" I punched him in the arm, watching him flinch. "Stop being all testosterone and semen, start being a fucking vampire."
"Caroline." His voice hardened, eyes sharp. "You're not staying here. That fucking creep could come at you at any time. I can only keep you safe if you're with me."
Oh for crying out loud, for real? Was he really trying to pull the protector card? I wasn't getting sucked into this, not again. The last time was hard enough on him, thinking there could be more between us beyond the mindless sex and constant need to feed.
"Sam," I started, keeping my voice even and crisp. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Now get the fuck out of my car, and go home."
He didn't budge, just kept those gorgeous teal eyes locked with mine. I swore, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut behind me. Fine. He wanted to play that game, I'd play that game. But he'd lose, faster than his wife could say divorce. I could only keep my hands to myself for so long. It wasn't that I didn't value his marriage and his morals-
Oh wait, I didn't.
In my suite, I tried not to focus on the shattered glass scattered on my pristine floor. I tried not to stare down the ripped paintings, the turned over couch cushions, and the bullet holes scattered in my walls. I grabbed a handful of whatever was in my drawers, a bagged dress from the closet, and two pairs of snakeskin heels.
Back out in the living room, I took my time to stare down everything. I committed it to memory, not that I didn't already have everything down the second it happened. Humans would take hours documenting every notch, doubting every scuff on the wall as their shoes or the intruder's. But I knew better from a single glance. This was all courtesy of the fucker that came for me, and when I got my hands on him, he'd have more than his soul at stake when I would be through with him.
I stepped over a small scatter of glass when I came across the only thing I had missed. A small puddle of pool, tiny enough for a mouse to drown in, pooled near the door of my place. I hesitated for a second, but in the end I snatched the first set of papertowels and plastic bag I could find. I mopped up the mess, stuffed it in the bag and tied it shut.
Fuck yes, some evidence to start this hunt. At least we could identify what the fuck we were dealing with now.
Sam was standing outside of the car, leaning against it like a classic mortal in the chick flicks girls went apeshit over. The scent of cigarette smoke reached my nose as I watched him take a long drag from the thin white fag, lighting up the end as he inhaled deeper with each hit.
Shoving my things in the tiny trunk, I closed it just in time to watch him grind out the butt on the ground, digging his heel over the smoldering remains. "Get everything you need?"
"Condoms, vibrator, ballgag, and the nipple clamps." I checked off my fingers, smirking. "I'd say we're set for a rousing night of foreplay."
Sam shook his head, but I could see the hint of a smile teasing his lips. "Get in the car, we've got to go."
I listened, sliding into the seat and buckling just as he did. "Where are we going, exactly?" I asked, listening to the car purr to life again under his capable hands.
Turning down the street and merging onto the highway, he didn't look my way as he told me. "It's a small place in the city. Hideout home."
Great. So we were on lockdown. Correction- Sam was on lockdown. Being only half-vampire, I could still enjoy the sunlight and all its gorgeous warmth, which meant on daylight hours I was still on my own. Why the hell were we staying together, exactly?
"Does your little doe know you'll be away from her?" I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes.
He glared at me. "That's none of your business."
"Oh, but it became my business when you dragged me into this mess, Sam." I relaxed in my seat, stretching my arms in front of me. "So tell me, how does Dawn feel about all of this pairing business?"
He was silent for a moment, as if he were contemplat
ing telling me the truth or feeding me a lie. I'd know either way, so it seemed right that he went for the former.
His words felt heavy as he spoke. "She doesn't know about this."
"She doesn't."
"No." He gripped the steering wheel tighter, tensing. "I didn't want to upset her. She gets... nervous over too much these days."
Oh, so little Sammy's relationship was on the rocks. It made sense. When I had heard of his impending doom, or marriage, to the pretty little thing that worked in another department, it was hilarious. Sam wasn't the marrying type, that much had been easy to figure out about him the first few times we met. The fact that he had wanted to fuck me right up to his wedding night had proved he wasn't willing to commit to her, yet he said the vows and clung to her like a lifeboat in the stormy seas when I left his life. It was for the best. When he wasn't trying to be macho and overbearing, he was clingy and desperate to keep everyone happy. Even if it meant taking one for the team.
Which, apparently he had by marrying Dawn.
I wanted to goad him, get under his skin right then and there, but I figured this argument would be best left to age like a fine wine. Who knew how many days we'd be stuck together, dueling it out? I didn't want to use something so powerful so fast. Tucking away the newfound knowledge, I sighed. "So tell me how this works. Do I really have to stay in the tiny place with you while you sleep away the day?I don't get to go feed, shop, enjoy myself?"
"Caroline, we know nothing about what came after you tonight," Sam warned, stating it as if I was five and didn't understand the meaning of no. "What if it's a daywalker like you are? Who will protect you then?"
There was a switch in the shift from day to night, when vampires traded off with elves for most positions. While they were effective, elves were one of the more passive groups in the paranormal world. They'd rather dance and eat cake while tormenting mortals all day before saving a halfblood with no ties to her community.
Dark Temptations Page 4