by Lilly Gayle
Was there anything more horrifying than seeing a vampire snack on a friend?
Travers’ face turned purple again. His chest rose and fell on rapidly indrawn breaths. “So instead of helping his buddy or calling 911, you think my son ran?”
Amber shook her head and spoke calmly. “I think he was terrified. And I think it’s possible he wasn’t sure if what he saw was real or not. I’ve been in his shoes.”
She met Brit Travers’ anguished eyes and told him about Andrew’s murder. “I felt guilty for not saving him, but when I tried I was thrown against a headstone. I thought it must be some monster with supernatural powers that attacked us. But the polizei shot a drugged-out Gypsy the next night as he was about to attack another man. Andrew’s blood was still on his knife.” And the polizei’s story about the gypsy was what convinced her she had PTSD. Now, she knew a vampire must have put that knife in the gypsy’s hand and used glamour to make him attack.
Reid’s eyes bore into her, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Other than her doctors, she’d never shared that story with anyone…except Gerard.
Travers scrubbed his face with large hands and slumped against the sofa. “So, you think my son might be suffering from some form of post-traumatic stress?”
“It’s possible.” Amber dared a glance at Reid. His eyes filled with sympathy. She wanted to barf. He’d never treat her as an equal now.
“This all revolves around drugs,” Reid said. “Your ex is sitting in a Richmond jail because of drugs and it’s her third strike.”
“I’m aware of that,” Travers said, his tone harsh, though not rumbling. “But my son isn’t like his mother.”
“But she’s going to do hard time.” Reid was pushing now, convinced this drug angle was the right one. Amber wasn’t about to tell him he was wrong. If he and the rest of the Asheville PD were looking for drug connections, then maybe she and Gerard could look at vampire connections.
That meant late nights.
A vision of late nights with Gerard flashed across her mind. And it had nothing to do with crypts or blood or anything else vampire related. Her skin tingled with unwanted anticipation.
Crap. I’ve been celibate way too long.
She forced the erotic images from her brain and concentrated on Reid’s voice. It was a pleasant tenor, easy on the ears. Reid wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. It was just his sexist, arrogant attitude that sometimes made her want to kick him in the nuts.
“We need whatever information you can give us on your ex-wife,” he was saying to Travers. “How you met. People she might know. Places Axle might feel safe. Solving the murders isn’t as much of a priority right now as finding your son.”
“I appreciate that,” Travers said with a quick nod. Then his eyes hardened. “I assume Shannon isn’t cooperating with the investigation. Let me guess,” he added, his voice filled with sarcasm and suppressed rage. “She’s more concerned with the charges pending against her and whether what she told you could be used against her in court.”
Reid shrugged. “Like I said, the woman’s trouble.”
And Reid had pissed her off. No way, she’d cooperate now—not that they’d actually need her. Drugs had nothing to do with this case. Still, if Axle was hiding out…
“Where did your ex-wife live after the divorce?”
“A hotel,” Travers said. “We were still living in Durham at the time. I’d just graduated from NC Central and was studying for the bar. I was working nights as a bartender and trying to hold my family together. Shannon hated being married and resented the hell out of me. Said I cramped her style. One day, she just left.”
“And took the kid,” Reid said, his voice tinged with anger. “So, while you were studying and she was partying, who took care of Axle?”
Travers held his wife’s hand as if it were a lifeline. She gave his fingers a quick squeeze but remained silent.
“We took turns,” Travers said with a sigh. “And I hired a college student to help. Even after Shannon moved out, I kept Axle on weekends, but Shannon wanted me out of her life. She said I was just like her father, always telling her what to do. So, I filed for divorce and sued for custody. Shannon was arrested on drug possession charges and lost the custody hearing but Axle wanted equal time with his mom. He said she needed him. We were trying to work something out when Shannon left town and took my son with her. I didn’t see Axle again until he showed up on my doorstep six months ago.”
“You never tried to find him?” The anger in Reid’s voice intensified. A thin line of sweat beaded his upper lip. “You knew she was on drugs and you let her take him?”
The judgment in his voice hinted at a past—a past Amber knew nothing about. But she had her own secrets.
Travers’ face fell. He glanced at his wife as if needing her understanding. She smiled and he continued. “I hired a private investigator but he lost Shannon’s trail in Asheville. That’s why I moved here and why I’ve stayed. It was the last place anyone saw my son. But—” Travers took a deep breath. “Apparently, Shannon met a man named Jefferson Cross and changed her name to his—even though they never married. She followed him to Richmond where they lived in boarding houses and hotels until he finally threw Shannon out.”
“Where’s Jefferson Cross now?” Amber pulled a notepad from her purse. Knowing more about Axle’s past and the people in it could help them locate him—if he was still alive—and not a vampire. “Is it possible Axle went to see him?”
“Cross is dead. Drug overdose.”
“What about your parents? Or Shannon’s folks? Would Axle contact them if he thought he was in trouble?”
Travers exhaled a shuddering breath. “My relationship with my parents suffered when I married Shannon. They never met Axle. And they didn’t speak to me again until after I married LaDonna. So, I doubt they care one way or the other what happens to him. They seldom even see Jerome. My choice now. And Shannon’s parents disowned her. Even if Axle wanted to contact them, they wouldn’t give him the time of day.”
Amber exchanged glances with Reid. “Locating him won’t be easy, especially if he doesn’t want to be found. But we’ll do our best.”
She only hoped that when they found him, he was still human.
Chapter 8
Amber pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine. She dropped her head against the headrest and sighed. Reid’s sympathy was going to drive her over the edge. When they left Travers’ house, Reid had been more interested in discussing her past than the case. She responded by asking about his past.
That shut him up. But changing the subject hadn’t solved anything. There was still nothing to connect Dr. Steve Weldon to the murders. He’d worked with Tina Gallagher and Megan Harper at Baldwin Industries but there was no proof he was involved in Gallagher’s murder. And there was no evidence to suggest vampires. Even if she found evidence, she couldn’t share it. Who’d believe it? Gerard was the only one she could talk honestly with about the case. And he was a vampire himself.
Can we say “conflict of interest?”
With a frustrated sigh, she slid from behind the steering wheel and slammed the car door. Then she turned into a solid wall of muscle.
“Whoa!” Gerard gripped her arms to steady her, his hands sliding upward until his warm fingers curled over her shoulders. His face was just inches from hers, his mouth close enough to kiss.
Need jolted her. Her body flamed.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” she snipped, irritated with the inappropriate hot rush of desire that nearly cooked her insides. “You’re lucky I didn’t put another bullet in you.”
His smile was sexy enough to tempt an angel. And she was no angel.
“Mon Dieu, woman. Do you always react so violently when startled?”
The open collar of a pale blue polo revealed the strong, thick column of his neck and that sexy little notch at the base of his throat where his collarbones met. Her mouth went dry.
&nbs
p; Muscled forearms flexed and bulged when he gently squeezed her shoulders before releasing her. “Well?”
She blinked. “Well what?” Crap! Get your mind out from between the sheets and concentrate.
“Is your first reaction always to shoot first and ask questions later?”
Now, that just pissed her off. Any lingering lust she felt from having his hard body pressed against hers faded. “If it was, you’d be dead. Again.”
He threw back his head and laughed. The low rumble sent hot tingles racing down her spine.
“Touché chérie,” he said in a husky voice that made her melt.
Despite her annoyance, she smiled. She was used to the prickly banter she shared with Reid. But Gerard’s easy nature and sense of humor not only surprised her, it was a delicious aphrodisiac.
Weren’t vampires supposed to be dark and brooding? Like Maxwell? She shook her head and tried lightening her tone. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on an ex-soldier? It can be hazardous to your health.”
His smile faded as if she’d insulted him when all she was trying to do was make a joke to ease the tension between them.
“I wasn’t sneaking,” he said, his brow furrowed. “I was waiting patiently by the tree for you to get out of your car. When you just sat there, I came over to tap on your window. But you jumped out, slamming into me so hard I was afraid you’d fall. So I caught you.”
His grudging admission made her feel safe. And that scared the hell out of her. She didn’t want or need his protection. She’d been looking after herself for a long time.
So, why did she feel all warm and tingly?
Her heart jumped. I’m in deep shit now. A man like Gerard could make a girl feel special…if he wasn’t a vampire.
“I’m sorry I snapped. I had a rough day.” Rough wasn’t the word for it. A depressing waste of time more aptly described how she felt about her job at the moment. She glanced toward the street, looking for a distraction. “Where’s your car?”
Another smile tugged at the corners of that lush mouth. “I don’t drive. I could if I wanted to. I know how. I mean…I’ve driven before. But why bother when I can get where I need to go faster on my own.”
“That’s right. You fly.” A chill shivered over her skin raising the fine hairs along her forearms.
“Not really.” He glanced around the yard, checking out the street and the neighbors’ houses. “Can we take this conversation inside please?”
Why hadn’t she thought of that? She didn’t know her neighbor’s well, but Mrs. Vanderbeek was nosey as hell. No telling what the woman had witnessed over the past couple of days.
She turned and marched toward the house without replying. Gerard followed at a human pace.
“You are in a mood today,” he said as he entered the foyer behind her and shut the door. “Want to talk about it?”
Yeah. Right. Like I’m going to talk about my sexual attraction to a creature of the night. “Not particularly.”
She headed for the kitchen and went straight for the fridge, reaching inside for a dark German beer.
“Could I have one?” Gerard asked.
Rising slowly with beer in hand, she turned to face him. “I thought you could only drink red wine and bl…”
She couldn’t even say it.
“Apparently, the anti-vampiric injections have alleviated yet another symptom of the virus. Vincent told me last night he was able to drink beer again. I tasted his and then waited, but I never experienced the pain I used to get when I tried to eat or drink as if I were still…normal.” His face flushed.
Amber dropped her gaze. “What about food? Besides red meat and pork, can you eat real food again?”
A soul-deep sigh made her lift her gaze once more.
“Apparently, I still lack many of the enzymes needed to digest most foods. But at least I can eat meat.”
His own variation of the Atkins’ Diet.
Fighting a tug of sympathy she didn’t want to feel, she reached back into the refrigerator and pulled out a second beer. He took it almost reverently, holding the bottle and staring at the liquid through the dark glass. Then he uncapped it with his bare hands and turned it up.
A deep appreciative groan sent heat pooling between Amber’s thighs.
She watched his Adam’s apple bobble as he took another long hard pull on the bottle. He looked and sounded like a man in the throes of an orgasm. Her stomach cramped. She could almost envision those full, firm lips on her breasts—tasting them as heartily as he pulled on that bottle.
Her nipples hardened. A hot flush scalded her cheeks.
She turned away, groping the side of the refrigerator for the bottle opener. The second she popped off the cap, she turned up the beer and guzzled it like a dehydrated sailor on shore leave.
Gerard wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gently placed the empty bottle on the counter. “Bon Sang! That was good.”
Amber took another long drag from her beer before replying. “Glad you liked it.” Her voice cracked. Her flush deepened.
Damn Gerard. His eyes sparkled as if he knew exactly what she was feeling. So did the smile he bestowed upon her.
“Thank you,” he said in a deep, husky murmur that sent a shaft of heat straight to her middle.
Amber coughed into the neck of her bottle and took another sip. She lowered the beer, looked at Gerard’s sexy face, and turned it up again, drinking the last of the dark brew in one long, swallow.
“Yeah. Whatever.” She picked up the empties and put them in the glass recycle container beside the trash. Then she brushed by Gerard and walked on unsteady legs to the living room.
She would have glanced over her shoulder to see if he followed but she was afraid he’d mistake her curiosity for a come-hither look. And she didn’t want him to come-hither. Hell, she didn’t want him coming hither or otherwise.
Otherwise raised intriguing possibilities.
She swallowed hard and sat on the sofa. Gerard eased down beside her, keeping his distance.
“So, explain this flying thing to me,” she said, trying to pretend his presence wasn’t a heady distraction.
He raised a brow. “I told you. We don’t fly. Vampires just move at incredible speeds. Our feet do occasionally leave the ground, but it isn’t flying.”
“No wonder you don’t have a car,” she said with a smile. “You probably save a fortune in gas. And you could book vacations without worrying about airfare.”
She was rambling like a love-struck teenager. She should be concentrating on the case, but she’d never been so physically attracted to anyone in her life. And she didn’t like it. Or trust it.
Her skin flushed. Her breasts ached to be touched. For all she knew, her physical response to Gerard was some manifestation of his power over mortals.
“I don’t really take vacations,” he said with a frown. “If I did, I’d probably go back to France—see how much it’s changed since I left.” His voice echoed with a soul-deep longing.
How long had it been since he’d seen his homeland? Did memories of his past haunt him? Did watching those he’d loved age and die keep him away? Surely, everyone he’d ever loved in life had long since passed away.
Compassion squeezed her chest. Her heart thumped. “How long has it been since you left?”
He shrugged. “A half century—give or take a decade.”
“So, why not just go? It’s not like you have to book a flight.”
“I wouldn’t fly commercially. Too risky,” he added with the briefest of smiles. “But I couldn’t get there on my own either. Vampires can’t sustain flight or move over large bodies of water. When I first came to this country after becoming vampire, I traveled by ship. A servant protected me during the day while I was in the regenerative sleep.”
Had he bitten some poor sap’s neck and turned him into a mindless zombie?
Images of black and white vampire films sprang to mind. She shivered in revulsion. That was one
way to turn down the lust. It was like throwing a bucket of ice water over her head.
Not wanting to insult him or falsely accuse him, she said, “I thought you’d never turned anyone. So, how did you get him to—um—cooperate?”
“I didn’t enslave him, if that’s what you’re implying,” he said with disgust. “A vampire’s bite cannot turn a mortal into a zombie. Subtle mind control works but not well enough to mentally enslave anyone. That’s a Hollywood notion with no basis in reality. I bought Etienne’s loyalty with cold hard cash.”
Embarrassment flushed her skin. She was still relying on memories of old movies for vampire facts instead of asking Gerard. Obviously, trust was still an issue. In her heart, she wanted to trust him, but some deeply ingrained instinct warned against it.
The Hollywood influence? Or something more reliable?
She swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry. You’ve done nothing to warrant my antagonism. But this isn’t easy for me. I’m trying to accept the impossible as not only plausible but real. At the same time, I’m trying to solve a murder. If I find the vampire who helped Weldon, how will you react?” She met his gaze and held it. “Will you try to make me forget what I know? Or will you help bring the creature to justice? What if the vampire is someone you know—someone you want to protect? I have to know how far you’ll go to guard your secret.”
“Fair enough.” Gerard leaned forward, resting his forearms on those muscled thighs. He glanced at the floor between his feet. Then he snapped his head to the side and looked at her with such intensity her pulse skyrocketed. “I want justice for Tina. I want to see Weldon put away or put down, and I want to stop the vampire who’s helping him. But—I will not allow you to expose Vincent or me as vampires. If I have to manipulate your thoughts or your words to stop you from ruining the lives we’ve built here, I will. Otherwise, your mind and thoughts are safe.”