Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  I checked my fangs, relieved to find they were still retracted and braced myself for the walk across the clubroom floor. Time seemed to slow down, bodies moved in a languid, sensual motion about me, veins and arteries standing out in stark relief against smooth flesh. The heat of their bodies wrapping around me, making my movements flow, my body begin a seductive and enticing dance, my face adopt an inviting mask. By the time I was halfway across the floor I was in trouble.

  I should have skirted the dancers, not blundered head first through the throng. But, now I was trapped. I realised I'd stopped moving forward and was simply swaying against the body of a young guy next to me. Dancing an hypnotic motion, body to body, heat wrapped, shrink wrapped to just me and him. His face was full of surprise and hunger. He recognised the invitation, he just misinterpreted what was on offer. I found myself smiling, my fangs miraculously still hidden. I could only assume it was the hunter in me, using every skill to catch my prey.

  The lights in the club were ideally suited to mask the colour of my eyes. Tonight the hue was reds and purples, a middle eastern flavour which played nicely into my current hunger filled gaze. Any colour in my eyes could be contributed to the lighting. I wondered briefly if that had been the colours when I entered the room, or if they had just now changed to match my mood. And if so, how?

  The guy's hands found my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of my rear, his groin pushed against mine as we swayed and moved and writhed a little in our own seductive world. I had no idea what the colour of his hair was, how good looking or not he happened to be. All I could see was his blood beneath his skin, all I could feel was his body and heat against mine.

  I was drowning and if I didn't get a handle on this I would face Doug and Jett's wrath.

  They had made it quite obvious, to all those vampires in Auckland, just what feeding at Sensations would entail. They were always looking for an example to set. I did not want to be that example today. The only time feeding at Sensations was tolerated, was when it was a private vampire function. No Norms allowed. Tonight was not a private function, I was walking a tight-rope and about to fall off the side.

  With shock, I realised my face was nestled into the curve of the guy's neck. My tongue had already laid a wet, hot line along his pulse point. My fangs were now down and out. Where had the time gone? What happened to the distance we had between us from just seconds before? My Dark Shadow growled in delight and anticipation, my Nosferatin side started to whimper and cry.

  I groaned in realisation that there was nothing I could do to stop this. The guy groaned against me, no doubt thinking I was about to give him a hickey or something equally as crass. Then just as my fangs scraped against his skin, I was spun away from his body as a deeply English accented voice said, "May I cut in?"

  Samson's scent - pine needles and musk - engulfed me, his strong arms wrapped around me and his hand in my hair pushed my face against his own neck. I'm not sure what he expected I would do, maybe he just wanted my fangs hidden from the crowd, but my Dark Shadow crooned in delight and I bit.

  His whole body jerked against mine, his arms tightened and a low growl mixed with a decidedly sexy moan came from the back of his throat. I could tell he was having an instant response to my biting him, I could feel exactly where his mind had taken the moment to. I gasped at his reaction, thinking this was having way more of an affect on him than me. And then the taste of his blood hit my tongue.

  My Dark Shadow all but did a dance inside, the vampire in me happier than I had ever felt before. I struggled against the onslaught of emotions that washed through me, his or mine, I couldn't tell, but they were delicious, decadent, divine. My body burned with a fire I hadn't experienced for months. The last time, in fact, had been in his arms before I had been turned. I hated that he still had this effect on me, but my body craved it all the same.

  Oh God, I had fallen hard for this man when I first met him. His sexy looks, his sensual confidence, his English accent. He was everything I fantasised about in a man and for a while there, he had been all mine.

  And then I had been turned and everything he'd ever been became a lie.

  I felt hot tears on the skin of my cheeks, a sob escaped my lips. He softly whispered against ear, "It's all right, babe. I've got you." And finally, with the aid of his words, I managed to withdraw my fangs and lick the wound closed.

  I leaned back in utter shock at what I had done. Biting a vampire in Sensations luckily didn't carry the same level of punishment that biting a Norm did. As long as it was carried out discreetly. Not that too many vampires go about biting each other though. That usually only occurs in battle; to punish, or with your vampire mate. My gaze was locked on the small bite marks which were slowly disappearing, Samson's gaze was locked on me.

  A wicked smile curved his lips. "Consider it a love bite," he whispered, huskily.

  I jerked my gaze up to his eyes, there was no way I could get a handle on his emotional scent, not that I had ever been able to do that with Samson. For some reason he has always been outside of my talent, I've just put it down to how angry I am when around him. Strong emotions, such as that, cause havoc on my skills. But, as I noticed the chocolate and taupe seeping into his eyes, the hunger that clung to them, matching the possession in his earlier statement, I realised this was the Samson I used to know.

  Confident, sexy, flirtatious. From the moment I was turned he lost that part of him, carried around the guilt and blame for what had happened to me, guarded himself against my rejection. I had made him lose this side, but I was also grateful it had been missing. And now that I had bitten him, something so personal and intimate, that side of him was back.

  I chose the safest route out of these murky waters. I chose to ignore it completely and focused on his earlier possessive statement instead.

  "You have not 'got' me. I am not yours to get," I said very firmly.

  His smile only widened further, making it almost impossible to hold my place in the face of all that beauty standing right before my eyes.

  "Oh, babe. How wrong you are. Now, more so than ever, we are drawn to each other. Can you not feel it too?"

  I had been drawn to him when I was human and at his words now, I realised how much stronger that feeling had become. I refused, however, to acknowledge it and pushed the problem that was my attraction to Samson, aside.

  He looked at me intently and for a frozen moment I thought he might lean in and kiss me, bite me even, try to mark me with his Sigillum, as his own. But he did none of those things. His hand came up slowly to the side of my face and then his thumb ran across my lips softly.

  "Feeling better?" he asked, quietly. Thankfully not pushing me any further on the whole drawn-to-each-other issue.

  I ran my tongue across my lips before I had even realised what I was doing and noticed immediately that my fangs had retracted. Although the hunger was still present, it was now just a dull ache at the back of my throat. Manageable.

  How was that possible? Vampire blood was not life sustaining. Only the life force of a human could nourish us. Although I would have to feed properly again soon, it would not have to be tonight. My body felt able to control the hunger, which under the circumstances, should not have been the case. I was vaguely aware that vampire mates could do this for one another, but the thought was thrust to the back of my mind as quickly as it surfaced. Samson was not my vampire mate.

  I registered that shock would have been showing on my face, no doubt with a healthy dose of fear. Samson just looked intrigued. And sexy. I shook my head to clear that last thought and spun on my heel.

  Coward, my Dark Shadow admonished. I ignored her and slipped into the seat in front of Detective Mark Anderson - hands shaking, heart beating way too fast - startling him enough to make him spill his - by the looks of it - non-alcoholic drink.

  A SubZero Vanilla Vodka mixer was placed in front of me from nowhere. I glanced up and caught Doug's eye. He winked. Mortification rolled through me. He knew what had
just happened. He'd seen it all. Had anyone else? I felt my cheeks redden, which considering how hungry I had been before, only made me realise how much Samson had in fact nourished me. I stifled a groan and reached for the bottle, noticing Doug had placed it with SubZero's label pointing toward Mark. Subtle Doug. Really subtle. But, maybe it would be a help.

  I glanced up at Mark who had been watching my cheeks with great interest, he smiled when he noticed my attention had finally swung towards him. He really was a good looking guy. Handsome. Great presence. Shining blue-grey eyes. Made a decent career from himself with the police. He'd be a good catch. Shame I wasn't fishing. Well, not on my own time anyway, Jett had other plans as far as my social life was concerned.

  Which brought me back to why I was sitting across a table from an old high school acquaintance in my boss's bar whilst still on the clock.

  "Hey, thanks for stopping by. Hope I didn't keep you waiting long," I offered and gave him my sweetest smile.

  His responding smile stunned me. Not only because it was gorgeous, Mark is definitely a catch, but because it was genuine. I wasn't using an ounce of Sanguis Vitam, but still this guy was happy to see me. Miraculous.

  "I was stoked you phoned," he answered in a deep voice, running his gaze appreciatively over the length of my body that he could see. "You look great, Gigi. Really great."

  I smiled back at him, it wasn't hard. He was such a lovely guy, even his compliments were given with complete conviction. I really believed he was happy to see me and that he thought I looked great. I took a drink from my Vodka Mixer and started playing with the label, peeling bits and pieces off here and there. I might have liked his compliments, but it didn't mean I was totally comfortable with them.

  "So," I started, thinking frantically of how to broach the subject of Alison's murder case without being too obvious. "What's it like being a cop... um... police detective?"

  He laughed. "That's OK, you can call me a cop. There are worse names." His blue-grey eyes twinkled in the lights of the room, I wondered what colour they would be in the sunlight. They seemed so pale and distant, like a storm threatened sky, but I had a feeling, in the right natural light, they would be deeper, stronger, more compelling. "It's pretty crazy actually." That statement made him look at his watch and caused a shift in his position. I guessed he suddenly realised he was on tax payers' time and this little conversation was not at all appropriate. My telephone message had been wrapped in layers of Sanguis Vitam in order to get him here. To keep him here I'd have to resort to a glaze or my natural abilities.

  "I never picked you for going down the police line in school, you were good at sciences weren't you? I thought you'd head to Uni," I said, drawing his attention back to me and away from his watch.

  "You remember what subjects I took in school?"

  Hints of cotton candy and caramel popcorn settled in the air between us. He was happy that I had remembered. I smiled back him and nodded enthusiastically. Let him think I harboured romantic thoughts back at school and hadn't been able to forget him since. He smiled in return and took a sip of his drink shifting into a more comfortable position on his side of the table.

  "Well, I thought about it, but I really wanted to help people. To make a difference." He ducked his head a little. "I know, that sounds a bit corny, doesn't it? But, it's the truth."

  "It doesn't sound corny at all, Mark. I think it's commendable, in fact. I wish I had done something more with my life." It wasn't too far from the truth actually.

  "You don't like what you do, Gigi? You work here, don't you?" He looked around the clubroom, almost as though he was taking it in for the first time, but my guess was he was just trying to see it from my eyes. He'd have already scanned the area and committed most of it to memory, I was sure. If the way he attacked that murder scene was anything to go by, he probably had catalogued scents by now too. I felt a sense of familiarity with him in that moment.

  "It's not exactly challenging and it certainly doesn't make a difference to the world," I said, quietly.

  His head shot back to look at me, and then he shook it from side to side. "People need a place to come to let loose. They need a safe environment to have fun. This place is of a high standard, we never get calls here. I'd say you've done pretty well for yourself and you are definitely helping out where it counts."

  Wow! I could really get to like this guy. Sure, I'd known him superficially at high school, but I'd never had an in depth conversation with him like we were having right now. And I was liking what I was hearing. Mark Anderson was an all-round nice guy.

  I leaned forward resting my elbows on the table, encouraging Mark to lean towards me in return. He did, mirroring my stance. His grey eyes appearing more slate-grey than blue-grey now. I kind of liked that too. Dark and mysterious where the guy himself was so full of sun and light.

  "What are you working on now, Mark? What differences are you making?"

  I hadn't tried to glaze him yet. Something was holding me back. I knew what it was. I liked Mark and he didn't deserve to be glazed if I could help it.

  He smiled a slightly crooked smile, his eyes ducking down to the table, losing contact with mine. I licked lips and held my breath.

  "I work homicide, Gigi. I help out after the fact. I can't really talk about what I'm working on though, sorry."

  "Oh, surely you can give me a hint, no names of course, just how much you're doing to make the world a safer place. Generalise." I lowered my lashes and said in a slightly husky voice, "I'd like to hear all about what you do. It fascinates me, Mark. I've never met anyone like you. You really do make a difference."

  His grey eyes shot back up to mine and, for a moment, I thought he might be tempted to spill the beans. To elaborate on what he does. But he simply shook his head and leaned back in the booth, then promptly looked at his watch again.

  I let a breath of air out in frustration. Nice guys don't break the rules.

  There was no avoiding it, if I was going find out anything that might help Stu, I was going to have to resort to Nosferatu tactics. I hated the idea, I really didn't want to do this, but what choice did I have? Stu was innocent, but Mark believed otherwise. Why?

  "Mark," I said, waiting for him to look back at me again, "tell me about the case you're working on." Sanguis Vitam rolled out from me and wrapped around my target, I swallowed past the uncomfortable feeling of glazing someone who could have been more than just a friend, and concentrated on the fact that Stu was innocent and I needed to know what Mark had, that kept Kara's cousin behind bars.

  Mark's eyes locked onto mine, he would have seen the slight purple tinge, he would have felt drawn into the depths of the swirls that had taken up residence there. He would have felt compelled to answer my question. Anything I asked I could have received.

  If he didn't already have some form of anti-glazing mojo, that is.

  "Your eyes are stunning, Gigi. Truly beautiful. I could look at them all night."

  What the? OK, I had kind of expected the no answer routine, Jett had warned me after all. But the dazed, love-sick puppy look he now wore and the way his hand reached out and took hold of mine, gently stroking the palm with his thumb. No, I hadn't expected that.

  "Um..." was all I managed to get out, before he stood and quickly came round my side of the booth and slid into the seat next to me.

  "I'm so pleased you looked me up. I had forgotten how truly gorgeous you are." His hand reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I always knew where you were sitting in assembly. You were the only one with platinum blonde hair in senior school. You stood out like a shining beacon."

  My recollection of those years were not quite the same as his. Yes, I had the only platinum blonde hair at school, but never had it been a good thing. I was teased incessantly. If it wasn't for Kara and her don't-let-them-get-to-you attitude, I would have had the shit kicked out of me on more than one occasion. She made me turn my back and walk away, when I would have preferred to teach them all
a lesson. And then lost the fight.

  But, it didn't matter that Mark's words were out of place with my memories. I was guessing they weren't the truth. I sighed. A nice human guy, with a respectable and upstanding job, and he gets bamboozled by a vampire glaze. This wasn't the Mark Anderson a part of me wanted to get to know, this was a fraud. A figment created with the help of Sanguis Vitam. I didn't want this for Mark and I certainly didn't want this for me. My life was complicated enough as it was, I didn't need to entertain thoughts of having a normal relationship with a... Norm. Even if I reluctantly admit I kind of was. And now, there was no chance of that, because every time he opened his mouth to speak I would doubt the veracity of his words. Just what the hell had my glaze done to him?

  Fuck my life sucked!

  "Thanks for coming to see me, Mark, but I've got to get back to work." I couldn't do this. I couldn't drag him further into the supernatural world. What if my glaze effected his ability to do his job? What if I had just made a good cop bad?

  I would just have to use my talents to snoop. Scent emotions wherever I can, break into premises to copy security camera footage, hope to bump into the fairy again and convince him to share what he knows. That thought was a little disconcerting, but what else could I do? Mark didn't deserve to have his personalty screwed with by vampires. I didn't want to be the vampire doing the screwing.

  Well, not that kind of screwing, anyway.

  "It's OK, Gigi. I know you're scared." What? "I am a little too, but we shouldn't deny this. We should embrace it. How many times have you met someone in your life who you really click with?" I just stared at him. What the hell had my glaze done? He nodded, as if my statue-like appearance was answer enough. His hand came up and cupped my cheek affectionately. "We can take it slow. How about dinner? Tomorrow night, my place. I'll cook. I make a mean Spaghetti Bolognese."

  I slowly shook my head. I had to stop this from escalating further. Maybe with time apart from me he would recover. Maybe it wasn't too late, whatever my glaze had done couldn't possibly have implanted that deep in one hit. If I could convince him to leave the club now and I stayed well away for the rest of his natural life, he might just be OK.