Harlequin Nocturne January 2014 Bundle: The Vampire HunterMoon Rising

by Michele Hauf

  He’d forgotten he still had the stuff on. He expected the man would know its use. Rook knew everything.

  “You don’t think it a necessary tool for investigating in FaeryTown? Why was I never told about this stuff during training?”

  “The Order hunts vampires. We keep our distance from faeries. It’s not wise to fuck with the sidhe.”

  “Yeah, but if you haven’t noticed, this investigation is twisted all up in the faeries’ business. I need all the help I can get, and if that means smearing some glitter under my eyes then I’m going to do it!”

  As Kaz’s words abruptly ended, the night fell heavily upon the men. Normally, he would never raise his voice to Rook. Call it a long day. Hell, he’d been shot by a faery and now had found yet another victim of Magic Dust.

  “What’s up with you, Kaspar?”

  Rook laid a hand on Kaz’s shoulder and he shook it off. The man had a way of looking into him with a touch. He didn’t like it. It was creepier than a witch with a tattoo gun.

  “What’s wrong is I feel as if I’m chasing my tail trying to get a clue in this case. A one-fanged vampire? Don’t they heal instantly? So if he lost a fang, it’s probably already grown back.”

  “Possible. They can regenerate bone, but some of the research excludes the teeth.”

  “We can hope. And the faery angle. I’m out of my element with all things Faery. If the vamps are selling faery dust, they have to have a source, which, I’m guessing, is in FaeryTown. But someone is modifying the faery ichor, changing it chemically to this new drug, Magic Dust. Did you have the sample analyzed?”

  “We’re still looking at it. We don’t have a forensics team to study the faery dust. We need a powerful witch or warlock, or maybe even a faery. I’ve got a witch looking at it now, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  “With today’s technology can’t we reverse engineer the stuff?”

  “It’s sidhe, Kaspar. They are from a completely different realm. It’s like analyzing Martian soil. They are not like us and we haven’t the skills to analyze the unknown.”

  Yeah, but Zoë had some crazy skills. She’d counteracted faery poison. Kaz should have her take a look at the Magic Dust. But he’d keep that info from Rook for now.

  “The best we can do is continue to track vampires and take them out, as our vows demand.” Rook pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. “We left the vamp in a pile of ash. I’ll have to bring Tor in for this one.”

  Tor would arrive on the scene and get to the reporters before they talked to the police and emergency crews. The woman’s death would be reported as a burglar with a knife, no doubt. The ash pile? He wasn’t sure what sort of double-talking Tor would finesse for that one.

  Rook finished giving Tor the address and hung up. He slapped Kaz across the shoulder. “Thanks for coming so quickly. That was good work. You heading home?”

  “Not sure. I need to clear my head, think this through. There’s something I’m missing. I’m sure of it.”

  “Walk home, let the air settle you. It’ll come to you.”

  “Will do. Uh, Rook?”

  “Yes?”

  He didn’t know how to ask delicately, so Kaz just tossed what he was thinking out there. “Do you believe in faeries?”

  Rook tilted his head and a tiny smirk curved the edge of his mouth. “How can you ask such a thing when you’ve apparently seen them, thanks to that ointment under your eyes?”

  “Yeah, I did see them. But Zo—er, someone once told me that if you believe in them, you give them power. So if you don’t believe in them, then...”

  “It’s an interesting theory. I don’t know what to tell you, Kaspar. At all turns, you must focus on the vamps.”

  “I know. I will. I’ll talk to you later, man.”

  Rook turned and jogged off.

  Yeah, he needed to put his mind in a different place than stalking vampires and chasing sparkly faeries. Something unrelated that would allow his brain to wander. He couldn’t sleep now, that was sure.

  The one thing that always put his mind in a different place was sex. But he was pretty sure the only woman he was interested in wouldn’t be receptive to a booty call. She was sleeping like a baby right now, under Sid’s watchful care.

  With a sigh, Kaz headed home. He spent the next hour before the city map, redefining the borders of FaeryTown to include the victim’s home.

  Odd thing? Zoë’s house hugged an edge of FaeryTown.

  Had she purposely chosen that location? She was in the know about faeries. He had to ask her to look at the dust. Nicely. If she didn’t believe in them, could she possibly figure out what made them tick? Probably not, but she had shown him some amazing skills in counteracting the poison.

  Perhaps he could wield seduction to soften Zoë’s distrust for all things involved with faeries?

  * * *

  After a long day concocting the blend, Zoë was ready for a break. She’d missed supper, so reheated a bowl of stew. That hit the spot. Sid licked the bowl clean.

  She’d woken close to noon on the couch, and realized Kaz had left her there. She must have fainted or literally fallen asleep when he’d been kissing her. Gotta be some bad sexual karma in that. But the molecular healing had really knocked the energy out of her.

  All day her thoughts had vacillated between focus on the spell and Kaz.

  “I need to explain to him so he doesn’t feel rejected.”

  Just when she wished she had the hunter’s phone number, he appeared at her doorstep. Kaz’s smile beamed at her, and he bounced on his heels and rubbed his palms together.

  Nervous? That was surprising.

  “You like to dance?” he asked.

  “Uh, yes?”

  “Do you want to go dancing?”

  “Right now?” Night hugged the front lawn and moonlight glinted in the neighbor’s windows across the street. “You don’t have slaying to do?”

  “Later. I just want to spend some time with you. Get my mind off the job and maybe—”

  “Maybe a little break from all the stabbing and killing?”

  He shrugged sheepishly. “Yes?”

  Kaz’s clever smile rolled over her like warm rain. It made her shiver in anticipation. “Yes to dancing,” she answered without thought. “But I need to change.”

  He nodded. “I can wait.” He reached for her hair, but Zoë stepped back, clasping the thick clutch of white hair before he could. “Did you do something to your hair? I don’t remember the white streak being so...wide.”

  She shrugged. “Must have parted it differently today.” She didn’t need to explain that with every healing that involved her bringing a person back from near-death, the universe extracted some of her life force as payment. “Let me go touch up my face and hair. Ten minutes!”

  While the hunter busied himself in the living room chatting up Sid, Zoë pulled out dress after dress from her closet and laid them on the bed. A goofy giddiness scurried about her core and she felt as if it was prom season and she had but moments to prepare before the coach arrived with her handsome prince.

  “No, that’s not right,” she muttered, touching the hem of the red silk number. “That’s Cinderella, not prom. And I certainly can’t talk to mice.”

  Not that she hadn’t tried.

  Zoë hadn’t gone to prom, but only because her father had been teaching her that evening. As well, she hadn’t been asked to the prom. So she’d been a wallflower attending mortal school. Quickly, she’d learned it wisest to keep her witchy eccentricities to herself if she had hoped to make it through the teenage experience in one piece.

  The red dress she’d flung across the bed was too short and too low-cut. Made for a night of club dancing, which, she hoped Kaz hadn’t in mind. She wasn’t up for frenzied, sweaty stuff
because she knew nothing about current dance steps.

  She touched the floral chiffon gown that had once belonged to her mother. Tiny pink roses were embroidered about the empire waistline, and a tea-length underskirt of pink barely showed through the white overlayer dashed with pastel roses. It was filmy and romantic and...no doubt far too fancy for the dancing Kaz had in mind.

  Surely he was thinking nightclub, not ballroom.

  She held up the gown and admired it in the mirror and remembered how gorgeous her mother had looked in it.

  “Why not?” she asked the imaginary damsel in the mirror. “Nowadays, most any style is acceptable.”

  * * *

  Stunned by the vision that floated down the stairs, Kaz clasped a hand over his chest and gaped. Flowing fabric hugged Zoë in all the right places and billowed at the calves like some kind of angel garb. Her soft pink cheeks and lips pursed into a wondering smile.

  “Uh...you look...” He didn’t have the words for her kind of gorgeous. Yet he felt too much right now. Desire. Admiration. Hunger. Wonder. Want.

  “It’s too much,” she decided, her smile falling.

  “Uh...”

  “Yes, it’s too much. Oh!” She flung out her hands as she landed in the foyer. “I’m such a dork at dating and romance. I love this dress, and I started thinking how pretty my mother looked when she once wore it and then I put it on, but—we’re going to a nightclub, right?”

  “We were, but, uh—”

  “I’ll go change.”

  “No!” Kaz grabbed her hand, staying her, and with his other hand tugged out his cell phone. “Just hang on, gorgeous. I saw something about an event in the paper over my morning coffee....”

  He searched the events calendar he had delivered to his phone each day. Yep, there it was. He wasn’t exactly dressed for it in leather pants and a sweater, but he could work with it.

  “It’s going on right now at the Trocadéro,” he said. And with a wink, he added, “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter 9

  The Place du Trocadéro glittered with lights strung across the esplanade between the two Palais de Chaillot buildings. Across the river, the Eiffel Tower twinkled. The air was filled with the lush sounds from a local orchestra playing a lilting waltz.

  Zoë didn’t know how to waltz, but Kaz led her up the stairs and into the crowd of elegantly dressed dancers who had come to enjoy an outdoor celebration of dancing and champagne. She didn’t need to know how to dance because following Kaz made it effortless. He knew what he was doing and led her into the rhythm with a surprising confidence. So without allowing herself to think about cartoon princesses swishing across the screen in the arms of their heroes—okay, just a few minutes—she swished right along with him.

  No man had ever taken her dancing, nor had any man she’d met at a bar even known how to move his body to a rhythm, let alone lead her in the dance. Kaz surprised her around every turn, and those surprises touched her very soul.

  The next dance was a quick step, and he started in with a few short, sideways steps, and she ran along with him, not getting the steps, but not caring.

  “Just follow me,” he said. “It’s more about keeping up.”

  His confident smile enchanted her, and she danced the entire song as if on a cloud.

  Now Zoë stood crushed up against the gorgeous knight with the magic feet. The orchestra played a slower song. This was a dream she didn’t want to end.

  “I can’t believe this night,” she said. “It’s magical.”

  “Coming from a witch, I’d say that’s a pretty strong statement.”

  “It’s beyond any magic I’ve ever touched.” She laid her head on his shoulder and melted against his primal heat.

  His thick biceps hugged her and he whispered, “Here with you is the best night. Puts my brain in a new place. I needed this.”

  “You come up with something to help you with your investigation?”

  “Nope. And that’s okay. I needed some breathing room, to not think.”

  Finding her place against him with an exhale, Zoë lost herself in the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, the sweet licorice-and-leather scent of him and the lulling strains of the orchestra enticing all to surrender to what love had to offer.

  She wouldn’t fool herself. Despite her aspirations for happily ever after, this affaire de coeur was not love. But it was exciting and made her toes curl. Any woman who ignored that was a fool.

  Because love was harder and deeper. It took much longer to develop. Or at least, that’s what she supposed. She’d never been in love. Blind adoration, surely. But Zoë had always gotten over her infatuations and moved on to the next guy, determined never to make the same mistakes, and to learn with each new lover.

  It was stupid to blame her bad relationships on the scar marring her cheek, but, when her ex-lovers had been truthful, they’d confessed it bothered them. And as for those who hadn’t confessed, she sensed it in the winces they had tried unsuccessfully to hide.

  Kaz’s hand glided down her back, mapping the curve above her hip until he landed on her derriere. Their bodies swaying to the music, she sighed against his chest and he hugged her closer and kissed the crown of her head.

  It was odd, standing in the arms of a mortal man who had taken it upon himself to slay vampires. Zoë tended to walk a wide circle around those who believed problems were best solved with a cruel word, punch or an even viler act. She always sided on giving a person every chance possible, because everyone who walked this earth was just trying to survive and get along.

  “You won’t hurt me, will you, Kaz?” It just came out. She regretted it immediately.

  He pulled back, his eyes searching hers. He shook his head, but couldn’t hide the hurt darkening his eyes. “Why would you ask such a thing?” He stroked her cheek. “Oh.”

  “No, it’s nothing to do with that.” Clasping his hand, she pulled it from her cheek. “I was thinking about you.” She nuzzled against his shoulder again. “Being a vampire hunter.”

  He rubbed a palm up her back, stirred up a giddy tingle that swam up her spine and embraced her surely. “I won’t hurt you, Zoë. Not physically.”

  The added clarification startled her. Did that mean he might hurt her otherwise? Mentally? Emotionally?

  Perhaps he couldn’t promise such a thing. He didn’t know where this new relationship was headed, nor did she. The best he could give her was a promise of safety from harm.

  Best she accept that, and take whatever the future promised for their relationship with her head held high. This damsel would take the dance and be happy with it, no matter if she never saw the dashing knight again.

  “I’ve never been good in relationships,” he whispered at her ear. “I always seem to screw them up. I prefer to run rather than tough things out. Just so you know.”

  “You keep giving me that excuse,” she said. She tugged him toward the edge of the dance floor where half the dancers lingered and clinked champagne glasses. They found a spot against the waist-high stone wall that looked over the Seine. “If I’m just a fling, Kaz, tell me, and I’ll know how to work with what’s going on between us.”

  He tapped the diamond pendant resting at the base of her neck. “It’s not an excuse. It’s just the same record playing over and over in my mental process. You challenge me to change it, though.”

  “Will you accept that challenge?”

  “I will.” He squeezed her hand to cement that acceptance. “I want to see what happens with us.”

  Such a hopeful gleam in his freckled brown eyes. He was ready to give the damsel a chance. Zoë touched his cheek and pressed her palm to his skin. “Yes, let’s see what happens. Come what may.”

  “Cool.” Bending, he delivered a sweet morsel to the tip of her nose. “Damn, you really put m
e in a better place, Zoë.”

  The conductor announced the final song would be a waltz.

  “You want to get out of here?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He slid a hand into hers and they strolled, arms swinging happily, toward the Metro.

  * * *

  They arrived just as the train took off, so Kaz and Zoë settled onto a bench to wait the five or ten minutes for the next train. They hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. Zoë clasped Kaz’s hand to her chest and closed her eyes, taking a moment to imprint the magical dancing at the Trocadéro in memory. It was something a girl would never forget, but she trusted memory more when she reviewed it.

  “Did you have a good time?” he asked softly.

  “The best. How did you learn to dance so well? It’s not something I’d expect...”

  “From a guy who walks around with stakes and holy water in his pockets?”

  “Well, yes. Did your parents make you dance when you were little? Did you have an eccentric aunt who whisked you onto the dance floor at family gatherings? Or does the Order train their knights in the seductive arts?”

  Kaz chuckled. “You thought my dancing was seductive?”

  “Yes. You won me tonight, Kaz. Holding me in your arms and swirling me about the dance floor, you just... Wow.”

  He pressed a kiss to her hand and clasped both of his around hers to hold on his lap. “You have a much higher opinion of my dancing skills than I’ve ever had.”

  “Trust me. You seduced the hell out of me. So it’s an Order skill, huh?”

  “Nope. The Order is all about militant skills and protecting the innocent. I actually learned to dance after I ran away from home. Spent a lot of time hanging out behind Madame du Monde’s Dance Emporium. Best place to sleep on a cold February night was tucked behind the garbage bin and wedged against the wall of the dance studio.”

  “Oh, Kaz. You ran away? I had no idea. Were you very young?”

  “Fourteen when I took off from my dad’s house.” He shrugged, sensing the further questions she didn’t dare speak. “It is what it was.”