“I think we’re done here, right?” The sparks shooting from her gorgeous crystal-gray eyes burned into him. Damn, she was sexy when mad. Now that she had his attention, he was gawping for a whole other reason.
“Right.” Probably a good thing they were leaving. His focus flew out the window the second his eyes met hers, and that strange pain hit him center-chest again. Without another word to Kenji, he strode from the room with Alice close behind. The pissy subjugate led the way back to the front door and closed it forcefully behind them.
Ian held the car door for Alice, but it sure as hell didn’t win him brownie points if her expression was an indication. He eyed the house, a plan hatching at the back of his mind as he walked slowly around the rear of the car. Not that he minded being cooped up in a little space with a wild tiger, one he wanted digging her nails into his back, but he was just too wired.
Alice lit into him the second he settled into his seat. “What were you going to do, assault him?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said. She was taking the horrified thing too far. The arrogant ass Kenji needed to be put in his place.
“You’re a cop, Ian. You enforce the law, not act like a hormonal Neanderthal. Take the high road. Ever heard of that?”
Heard of what? Shit, it was hard to think past his name on her lips. “Yeah. Gotcha. High road.”
She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, but he was sure it wasn’t flattering. He could now add touchy to the list of words to describe Alice Capshaw. Locking his eyes on her, he started the car. She was glaring out her side window, her folded arms enhancing the cleavage just visible in the V of her sweater. It was monumentally difficult to drag his eyes away, but it stood to reason she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate his attention on the cookie jar, much less his hands.
“Put your seat belt on.” She hadn’t even peeked at him.
“As if a car accident could kill me.” He paused. “Unless I got decapitated. Could lose a limb or two, I guess. Or bleed out or maybe have an aneurism and end up in a permanent coma.”
Her sharp gasp cut off his sarcastic diatribe. Fists clenching the arms of her sweater, she turned to him, a too-bright sheen in her eyes.
“Alice…”
“Please, Ian,” she whispered.
He slid the seat belt home without hesitation. “Alice, I’m sorry I’m such a dick. I get like that when people tell me what to do. Don’t mean to. It just comes out, and then I feel like crap.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“Heck, yeah. Tells me I ought to be neutered.”
She ducked her head and her shoulders shook. Dammit. How many times was he going to upset her before this case was over? He reached for her, but she slapped his hand. She leaned back in her seat, fighting like hell against a grin. She fought her laugh so hard, she snorted a little, delicate snort.
“Now you’re laughing?” He tried to be annoyed, but after the pain escaping her guard a minute earlier, he couldn’t drum up enthusiasm for it. She glowed with a sun-like radiance when she let go like this. “You’re giggling like a teenager. Are you bipolar?”
“No, damn you. I hate you.” Her laughter calmed, and she took a few deep breaths. “Whew, stressed. I needed that.”
Ian eased the car away from the curb, making a right at the first intersection. It felt good, much too good, to draw a genuine laugh from her. Melancholy. That’s what he’d seen in her, a perpetual shadow in every expression, cloaking a bubbly personality underneath. “You hate me, huh?”
“Don’t feel bad. I hate everyone.”
“Emo.”
“Hick.”
He laughed as he took another right turn at the next intersection.
Alice bolted upright in her seat. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing? Investigating.”
“By driving in circles?”
“I’m looking for something. Should be right…” He ducked his head down to peer at the line of houses along the street. “Here.”
“What exactly is here?”
“You.” He leaped out of the car and jogged around to her window. “You’re here. Right here, not moving from this car.”
She grabbed his hand before he could make an escape. “Ian!”
“There’s no way in hell we’re going to get an order anytime soon to search Ander’s place. These bastards damn well know something about how that kid disappeared from his room, and I intend to find out what that something is. I bet the kid’s blood is in there.”
“No, Ian, don’t you dare. I really will hate you.” His hand slipped from hers, and she grabbed frantically after it. “No!”
Her vehement whispers faded into the background as he melted into the darkness, his senses on alert. The rear of Ander’s estate wasn’t guarded well, but neither was the front. In fact, it was kind of odd how easily they’d gotten in. There was no access gate. Anyone could pull up in front of the house. Ander had a sizeable backyard with a couple of outbuildings.
Ian deemed the larger a good bet to hold the transformation facility. It was a no-brainer, the only one big enough to accommodate such a facility. Most adjuvants would simply use a room in their house, but he’d already pegged Ander as the snooty type who wouldn’t want the infants in the same building.
The fence was wood, and in Seattle, or pretty much anywhere in the Pacific Northwest, wood fencing needed regular maintenance. Without it, the fence ended up with a bad case of rot. Lucky for Ian, Ander’s groundskeepers were as proficient as machete-wielding monkeys. He pulled two of the boards soundlessly from a shaded corner of the fence, giving him space large enough to slide through.
He crept to the nearest wall, the back of the structure. There were windows, but they were small, high, and covered by horizontal metal slats. Even at his height, he would need a leg up to get a peek at the lay of the land. Maybe the side would have better options.
A quick recon around the corner from the main house showed him he was alone and free to snoop. Bingo. The windows were larger and lower. He’d half expected to find the place empty, but instead got a good view of Ander and Kenji. The adjuvant had his back turned, but Ander appeared cheesed off enough to eat the head off him. Ian couldn’t make out more than their muffled voices.
“Are you crazy?”
Ian nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled on Alice. “What the fuck are you doing out here? I told you to stay in the car.”
“Why? So I can be an accomplice to breaking and entering?”
“Would you keep it down? You want to get caught?” He pulled her back toward the rear of the building.
“Maybe you should.” She nearly snarled at him.
“Now who’s crazy?” A beat later, his inner thoughts decided to purge themselves. “Holy fuck, you’re hot when you’re pissed off.”
“What?” Her eyes flew open wide. He only had a moment to wonder if she’d been flattered or offended. His little outburst cost them their invisibility. A shout came from the steps behind the main house and another from much too close around the front of the transformation facility. If Ander came after them, they’d be over. Just like that. There was no way in hell he could take on a Dominus of Ander’s caliber. Kenji wouldn’t be much easier.
He pushed Alice ahead of him toward the opening in the fence. She’d squeezed through with him close behind when gunshots hit the wood next to his face, sending shards like shrapnel into his skin. Then a cement truck hit him square in the back, stabbing him with a red-hot spike charged with lightning. Goddamn. The pain was so intense, he could do nothing more than grunt. The shots kept coming, and Alice screamed his name, her body crouched low to the ground and her arms covering her head. Like that would stop a bullet. If they hit her…
His car was too far away. Pushing the rest of the way through the fence, his mind went hazy with agony. He gripped both of Alice’s arms and lifted her to her feet, blocking her with his body. Another s
pike stabbed into his back, and then the world dimmed. He was as good as dead.
They would kill Alice. And it was his fault.
Chapter Seven
Ian’s body jerked, and he slumped against Alice. Her arms strained against his weight. “Ian! Keep moving. We have to get to the car. Come on. You can make it.”
More rounds bit through the flimsy fencing. The shooters were getting closer. They’d hit him already, and she didn’t think he could take another. Her throat constricted. He could barely stand, and she wasn’t strong enough to get him to safety. A naked jaywalker wouldn’t be this exposed. Ian’s eyelids fluttered and he blinked. With a groan, he lifted her against him until her toes left the ground.
“Hang on to me. Close your eyes and keep them closed. Hold your breath. Don’t stop holding it for anything until I say.”
“What are you—”
“Do it!” he roared. Cringing, she followed his command. A second later, they flew through the middle of a hurricane as Ian flashed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders. They moved so fast, the force of the wind threatened to tear her from his arms. Her hair whipped around her head, and she had to remind herself to keep her eyes shut.
For a few moments, she had the same rush she got from skydiving, but then her lungs began to burn. She dug her fingers into Ian’s shoulders, fighting to keep her breath right where it was. A sense of suffocation overwhelmed her. The pressure in her ears aimed to explode right along with her lungs. As if feeling her growing distress, Ian’s hold tightened. Then his mouth was on hers, taking her breath and feeding her a new one through her parted lips.
Mint. He tasted like mint and… Was that blood? He’d been hit, but was it that bad? Her hands fisted in his shirt. This ride had to end now. He could be bleeding to death, and she was too worried to enjoy the feel of his mouth on hers. Fighting the pressure of the wind, she pulled hard at his shoulders, and finally the vortex slowed.
Ian collapsed to the ground, drawing her on top of him. When she sat up, her thighs astride his hips, he arched in pain, his face tight with it. Blood soaked the front of his shirt—and hers.
“Ian, where’d they get you?” She tugged his shirt up. Two small holes, more like cuts, pierced through, one near his belly button and the other closer to his spleen. Nasty dark bruising spotted his lower abdomen where his internal bleeding showed. “Oh God, we have to get you to a hospital.”
Her cell phone was tucked in her purse back at the car, but his was still clipped to his belt. When she reached for it, he grabbed her wrist.
“No,” he groaned. His eyes opened, the red of his irises faded to nearly black. “I don’t have that kind of time.”
She didn’t want to acknowledge that, but his face was bleached white. He’d lost so much blood. “You can’t die, Ian.”
“Sorry, Alice. This is my fault.” His hand tightened on her arm. “Even though I told you to stay in the car.” He snickered, but it died with a weak, bloody cough.
“What can I do?” She pressed his shirt against the worst of the bleeding, but it seeped out at an alarming rate.
“Find me a donor. Anyone around?”
She inspected their impromptu destination. They’d ended up in an industrial area, full of little-used warehouses and empty office buildings. Plenty of refuse drifting the street, but no pedestrian traffic whatsoever. A prostitute or even a drug dealer would be welcome at that point.
“No one.” She never thought he’d be the kind to give in, but defeat settled over him, and she couldn’t bear to see it. Regardless of getting them into this situation, he needed help only she could offer, and it wouldn’t kill her to donate for him. “But I’m here, and I have blood.”
He tensed, his eyes narrowing, but she cut him off before he could decline.
“You have no options, and I have no hepatitis. Would it be that bad?”
“It’d be too good.” His eyes flared for the briefest moment. “Ever donated to a vampire before?”
“No, now shut up. You’re bleeding to death, if you haven’t noticed, you Irish hick.”
“Frustrating wench.” He jerked her flat on top of him, his hungry eyes never leaving hers. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said, her heart pummeling against her rib cage. What’d she get herself into? A second later, he ducked his head toward her throat. A pinch, and then his fangs pierced her flesh.
A hoarse scream escaped her lips. Lust hit her with a beastly ferocity, clawing at her like a wild animal. Her body caught fire as she ground against his hard shaft, but it wasn’t enough to quench. She was pure, raw sex driven insane by the heat of him between her legs. Hellish in its intensity, the pounding need magnifying by the second. God, she’d fly apart.
“Please, Ian, please!” She had no idea what she begged for, but he did. As he drew in life at her throat, he reached under the lifted hem of her skirt and stroked between her legs. Long, sexy fingers hit all the right spots, delving into her cleft with only the thin, wet silk of her panties in between. His firm touch teased and then swirled around her hot button, his thumb deftly flicking her toward an implosion. Reality-defying pleasure drove desperate sounds around her panting breath.
“Omigodomigodomigod!”
When he withdrew his fangs, the ecstasy crested in a stunning orgasm. The world stopped. Her muscles tightened. And then it faded in throbbing ebbs of sensation. With a soft whimper, she melted on top of him. His tongue traced slowly over the bite with the curative serum to seal her wounds, and his palm rested lightly against the front of her panties. She was far too boneless to wiggle away. Several minutes passed before her breath returned to a respectable rhythm and her mind kicked in with the repercussions.
Had she known the life-changing effects of a vampire bite, she might have tried harder for another option. She had to face this man to solve a murder case, but after what they just did, how could she work with him? There was no other choice, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t embarrassed as hell. At least she had another minute to prepare before meeting his eyes. His chest still heaved, his heart thundering under her cheek. He lazily traced her spine, his touch comforting. Good to know he was affected by the experience and this wasn’t all one-sided.
Trying to drum up some indignation was a complete failure. If he hadn’t taken her in hand, she would’ve used her own or whipped out that rod he had stowed away in his jeans. Oh, wow. That memory would last a lifetime. He was packing and then some. Which did nothing to help her current predicament.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I should be asking you that,” she mumbled against his chest. His answering laugh rocked beneath her.
“I will be soon. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be fit as a butcher’s dog.” His deep groan made her tingle all the way to her toes. “I’ve completely humiliated myself. Don’t know if I’ll get over that.”
She lifted her head before she could develop a second thought. “What do you mean?”
“Never you mind.” He grinned at her, the color coming back into his face. “I think we can call for some assistance now. Since, you know, you left my car all alone.”
“Don’t look at me, Agatha Christie.”
“Are you calling me a snoop or old and wrinkly?”
Instead of answering, she pushed off his chest. It made him wince, but she tried not to care. Something about the way he avoided responsibility grated on her. He seemed to sense her shift in mood.
“I’m a Tracker. It’s what we do.”
Yeah, like she hadn’t expected that response. Why couldn’t he just own what he did?
“You mean whatever you want?” she asked. “We’re supposed to stop criminals, not become them.”
“You think the killer’s going to cooperate and fall into our laps?”
“Why are you so sure they were the killers?”
“You did see them shooting at us, didn’t you?”
She half wished they were still shooting at him. “We w
ere trespassing on private property. They had no idea who we were.”
He glowered. “They’re vampires, Alice. Of course they knew who we were.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot.” She glared right back at him. “Either way, we weren’t legally authorized to be there.”
“And they were authorized to shoot at us? In the middle of Capitol Hill?”
“If we hadn’t been there, they wouldn’t have—” She blew out a breath. “Never mind. Let’s just get out of here. I’ve had more than enough of you tonight.”
“You sure have.” His delicious mouth turned up at the corners as he sat up, carefully holding his stomach. Amazing. The man never stayed upset, and he could probably draw a smile from a corpse. Catching the mischievous sparkle in his eye and his devilish grin, her reasons to keep her distance simply fizzled, like a short circuit straight to ground. Grabbing his cell, he called someone to pick them up. His abs tensed and rippled as he talked, and she just couldn’t watch anymore. Before she turned her back on him, she noticed the dampness at the waistband of his faded jeans.
So that’s the humiliation.
He really had been affected by her donation. She laughed.
“What the hell now, oh bipolar one?”
“Nothing.” She tilted her chin toward his jeans before turning away again.
A moment of silence prevailed.
“Don’t judge. I promise it’s never happened to me.”
“I’ve heard that before,” she murmured. He laughed and then the phone chirped. His deep voice rumbled in the background a minute before he clicked the cell back onto his belt.
“Declan’s right around the corner. Lucky for us, he was in the neighborhood.”
“Lucky for you.” She glanced up at the sky. “Daylight’s coming.”
He ignored her jibe. “Alice.” She ignored him in return, but he leaned around her to make eye contact and gently tipped her chin up. “I’m sorry. I should’ve taken you back to your office instead of dragging you into this. Even with you in the car, I put you in danger. And I know you weren’t expecting…what happened, but thank you. You saved my life.”
Bad Cop (Entangled Covet) Page 5