The vampire smiled wide. “All the more reason you should join us.”
“That’s okay.” She decided to stay put, not able to ignore the prick of unease along the back of her neck. “You go ahead. I think I’ll stay here and soak it all in.” Gillian turned back around and leaned against the railing to admire the glittering monoliths that lit up the sky. Gusts of air whistled through the buildings and blew her hair in every direction.
Her gaze drifted to the street below filled with cars and taxis. The sidewalks bustled with people coming in and out of the hotel, even at this hour of the night. From up this high, they all appeared as colorful specs zooming by. Their problems seemed a world away like the static on an intercom. For a moment, she let herself feel insulated by the concrete and glass, wishing she could stay here inside this cocoon.
If only her mom was alive to see all of this. Her strength was what inspired Gillian to start her charity, the reason she was standing here staring at this opulent view in the first place. She hoped her mom would be proud of the work she was doing. Tomorrow would’ve been her mom’s birthday, and tonight Gillian missed her so much her chest ached with physical pain. She breathed in a lungful of crisp air and let it out, forcing herself to stay grounded. She was just about to pull out her phone to snap a few pictures when she heard footsteps behind her.
“No matter how many times you look, the view never gets old. And believe me, after living for over a century, that’s saying something.” The unfamiliar male voice made Gillian’s heart skip a beat.
She spun around. A tall vampire with light brown hair stood behind her and leaned against the railing. “I have to agree. It’s stunning up here.”
“But it’s nothing compared to the beauty before me.” Smooth. Clad in a designer suit, he was classically handsome, but not at all her type. Not that she had a type per se, although she did have a thing for males of the tall, dark, and brooding variety.
“I’m Damon.” He extended his hand, and she noticed the same kind of signet ring like the one on Kurt’s finger. She sensed it wasn’t a coincidence. “I’ll be your host for the evening.”
“Gillian,” she said simply.
“How come you’re not mingling?” he asked and motioned to the women and vampires crowded inside the suite; then, he turned back to face her with a hungry gleam in his eyes.
She shrugged. “I just needed a moment to myself.”
“I haven’t seen you before.” His gaze traveled the length of her and back again. “I would’ve remembered. Are you here alone?” The intimate undercurrent in his tone made her take a step back.
“I’m here with friends. I’m just about to go back inside and find them.”
“Wait.” He took a step closer and bowed over her, swiftly moving into her personal space. “You seem like you’re looking for something you’ve yet to find. Tell me, Gillian, do you ever wish for that special someone to have a real connection with?”
“That’s a loaded question and a very personal one, don’t you think?” Her eyes flickered around the patio. It was empty, except for the two of them.
“I know the perfect way to get more personal.” His dark eyes gleamed with flecks of gold. “We could blood bond.”
Shock held her tongue for an instant before she snapped out of it. “Whoa, back off, Damon.” Okay, what female with a pulse wouldn’t be somewhat fascinated by the act of blood bonding? There were rumors of intense euphoria, along with a mental and emotional connection that allegedly took place after a vampire bit you, the downside—becoming a renewable feedbag. This guy was a total stranger and a creep to boot. “What would make you think that I’d bond with you?” Gillian took a step toward the sliding glass doors, eager to escape.
The lights on the patio dimmed. “Look at me, Gillian.” And when she did, she couldn’t pull her gaze away…literally. She tried to run, but she couldn’t move her limbs. Her mind and body became disconnected somehow. A scream erupted from her lips, but no sound came out. When she tried to conjure her magick, it stayed frozen inside her body. Her fear reflected at her from the endless depths of his yellow eyes. They glowed in the shadows like burnished gold.
“We need a place where we can be alone.” Damon started to drag her along, and all she could do was follow. She felt like a puppet, and he was the master pulling her strings.
“Come with me.” Her mind screamed no, but she found herself nodding in agreement. It would be so easy to just capitulate and go along for the ride. For all she knew, it might even be pleasant. She’d heard the rumors that vampires could be possessive, overly jealous, and capable of mind control, but the post-bitten ecstasy supposedly made up for any misdeeds. No, her inner voice warned. He's trying to turn you into his personal blood slave.
“I promise it won’t hurt at all.” He grabbed her arms and held her in a vicelike grip, then pulled her further into a dark corner of the patio. “It’s better if you don’t fight me. If you do, your blood won’t be as sweet. There’s no need to worry about bite marks on that pristine skin. They won’t show up for several hours, long after you’re gone.”
She focused every ounce of her magick into breaking his hold. When Gillian attempted to dig her heels into the tile, to fight against this mental roofie, one of her shoes slipped from her foot and she stumbled.
“This won’t do. We can’t leave any evidence behind.” The vampire kneeled to slip her heel back on, releasing her from his hold. The drugged sensation fell away.
Desperate, her gaze darted around for a weapon, but there was nothing, nada, zilch. She fumbled through her purse in search of something…anything. But what could she use to defend herself against a vampire? A tampon? A lip gloss? She tried to think of a spell, but nothing came to her frantic mind.
When her fingers closed over the scissors, a surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins. In one quick motion, she grabbed him by the shirt collar and jabbed the point up and into the soft skin under his ribs, grateful for catching the last Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon.
Shock flashed in his eyes. Damon tried to grab her, but she ducked out of the way. His grasping hands ripped the front panel of her dress instead. Blood spurted from his mouth and dripped onto his crisp white shirt. He cursed, fell to his knees and gaped at the scissors in his abdomen. “You staked me.”
“Yeah, and you deserved it. Maybe you haven’t heard, but karma can be a real bitch.” Gillian didn’t wait for him to respond. She slipped off her other shoe, flung it over her shoulder, and ran to the patio door.
With her chest heaving, she wrenched the slider open and stepped through. Magick sparking on her fingers, she flicked her hand and the slider slammed shut behind her, the lock clicking in place. Gillian scanned the crowd for Brooke, but there was no sign of her, only women standing close to their vampire companions with glazed looks in their eyes.
She needed to find her and get the hell out of there. Frantic, she ran barefoot through the hallway of the suite and stopped at the first door she came to. Her magick continued to spark on her fingertips as she waved her hand. The door flung open, but the room was empty.
By the time she came to the next one, her whole body shook from head to toe. Voices drifted out to the hallway, along with what sounded an awful lot like moaning. She flicked her wrist again, and the door flew open with a loud bang. What she saw in front of her didn’t seem real.
Panic hit her square in the chest. Women lounged on couches and beds; some were spread across the floor with blood splattered on their clothing. Male vampires drank from the veins of the women who moaned in ecstasy.
The scents of blood and cologne swirled through the air and made her stomach clench. She gulped, taking in the scene. And there, in the middle of it all was Brooke with Kurt hovered over her. “Brooke?”
Heads turned in her direction. “Please come in and shut the door.” An enormous, dark-haired vampire called out. “There’s plenty of room for more.”
Gillian froze. “I…uh, was just here to get
Brooke. We, um, came together. Why don’t we get out of your lair, I mean hair, and let you get back to what you were doing?” Her heart pounded in her throat, in her ears, and she swore every vampire in the room turned at the sound.
“Join us. It’s not a request,” Kurt demanded, moving closer.
Trying to think on her bare feet, Gillian reached for her phone, and held it up like a weapon. “Between Instagram and Twitter, I’m sure my million followers would love to know what you’ve been up to. A single tweet would ruin you.” She motioned around the room. “Funny, this whole operation doesn’t seem all that philanthropic.” Gillian took a step back and sucked in a harsh breath, bracing against his wrath.
The next moment, shouting filled the room. Cops and MBI agents barreled through the open doorway with their guns drawn.
Gillian nearly sunk to the floor with relief.
“Does trouble find you, Miss Howe, or do you chase after it for sport?”
The familiar male voice pricked along her skin like barbed wire. She tensed, turning slowly around, and came face to face with Mulroney. Anger blazed in his eyes.
Gillian didn’t think this night could get any worse, but apparently, it could. Trying to gather what remained of her dignity, considering half her thigh was exposed and she was barefoot, she pushed her shoulders back and stared him down. “Whatever you do, don’t you dare say I told you so.”
Chapter 3
Garrett moved to the area of the suite where Gillian stood. Of all the women he expected to see here tonight, she was the last one on his list.
Up until a few hours ago, it had been months since he’d seen her in the flesh, and somehow, in the blink of an eye, she still managed to get under his skin. He exhaled, and the scent of expensive perfume, sweat, and fresh blood flared in his nostrils.
“This is some mess you’ve gotten yourself into.” The spacious room was currently filled with vampires, EMTs, and a slew of young, attractive women getting interrogated by cops and Magickal Bureau of Investigations agents.
Gillian looked pale and shaken, not to mention shorter than she did in the lobby. “If you’re asking if I planned on getting mind roofied, then the answer is no. I honestly had no clue,” she said, her brown eyes shooting daggers at him.
Over the years, he’d been forced to question mobsters, drug smugglers, and cold-blooded killers. Somehow this brown-eyed firecracker, standing beside him, gave them all a run for their money. “You said you were ‘mind roofied.’ I’m assuming you mean a vampire tranced you?” If it were anyone else caught up in the middle of a vampire blood ring, he might’ve found her response amusing, but as his gaze darted around the room, taking in the blood-stained walls and comforters, not to mention the young woman being carried out on a stretcher, there was nothing even remotely funny about the situation. In the last week, there’d been an unsolved murder, a Jane Doe who’d been found with all the blood drained from her body. The RHPD had classified it as a vampire killing.
“It was like being under some kind of spell. This vampire approached me and said something about blood bonding with him.” Determination flashed in those big brown eyes. “I made damn sure that wasn’t going to happen.”
Garrett drew his brows together, impressed. “By using your powers? I’m surprised you didn’t send him flying over the balcony.” It would've served the bastard right.
“I use telekinesis to move inanimate objects with my mind all the time, but I can assure you nothing as big or as powerful as a vampire,” Gillian said with a sigh. “I’m more of a clairvoyant. I have visions and premonitions. I also read signs and symbols with my tarot cards to see both the past and the future. Every witch’s power is different. When Damon Greystone tranced me, I didn’t use my powers. I acted on instinct.”
“Thinking on your feet might’ve just saved your life.” In more ways than she could imagine. Not that it surprised him. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. According to her file, there’d been an incident last winter with a dark fae responsible for murdering a string of witches from her coven. Gillian had been targeted and later abducted, yet somehow managed to get away. Despite her looks and graceful mien, Gillian Howe was as scrappy as they came. “Someone with your history should know better.”
“Don’t patronize me, Detective. I had no idea what I was walking into, but now I think it’s pretty clear.” She bit down on her lip, and Garrett had a sudden urge to do the same.
“The proper term is blood trafficking.” Ever since Tristan Saint Claire, a demon kingpin, was killed and his former crime syndicate, the Shadow Cabal, dismantled, another fringe group made up of vampires emerged to mastermind a high-class blood ring. And from all appearances, Kurt Lawrence was now at the helm, but Garrett suspected he wasn’t working alone. “Things could’ve turned out a whole lot differently. Consider yourself lucky.”
His gaze zeroed in on Gillian’s bare feet and red painted toenails. Refusing to admit he found them sexy, he wondered what the hell had happened to her shoes. But there were more pressing matters to discuss than the state of her missing high heels. Although he did recall in vivid detail how they showed off her legs. “Do you have any idea how dangerous these people are?”
“Well, you didn’t think it was important enough to give me more of a heads-up earlier.” She curled that damnable mouth of hers into a smirk. “A real warning like, ‘these are bad, bad people’ would've been nice.”
His anger flared. “A warning? I tried, but you ignored me. I was undercover, Miss Howe, and not at liberty to reveal what was about to go down. Besides, I would think you’d know the dangers of going up to a hotel room with a group of strangers, vampires no less.” When he thought about what could’ve happened to her, his jaw clenched to the point of pain. But it was more than that. There was something eerily familiar about this case that didn’t sit right. Could Kurt Lawrence be involved in the same operation that he’d been lured into over a hundred fifty years ago?
Turning her head, she searched the crowded room until her gaze finally landed on a young, attractive, blonde woman in a red dress, who was currently getting interrogated by some uniformed officers. “As much as I’d love to stand here and chat, I want to go check on my cousin to make sure she’s okay.”
“Davidson, please bring over the witness,” Garrett said into his mic. After a moment, the uniformed officer walked over her cousin. The two women embraced.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Brooke?” Gillian whispered as she looked at her cousin with concern in her eyes.
Brooke nodded. “I just want to go home.”
“You and me both, honey.” Gillian turned back to Garrett and exhaled. “Thank you, but you can’t keep us here. We’ve done nothing wrong and I, for one, need to get out of this hotel room. Adrenaline’s just not cutting it anymore.”
“I get that it’s been a long night for you, but like it or not, you’re now witnesses in this case. We have a few more questions, then you’re both free to go.” Garrett motioned for the officer to take Brooke back to the area of the suite where he’d been questioning her, hoping it would jog her memory. After they walked away, he pulled a chair from the desk and motioned for Gillian to take a seat. “I’m happy to get you some food or water, maybe some coffee?”
Gillian gazed up at him through the fringe of her dark lashes. “Are you planning on interrogating me, Detective?”
“Considering the circumstances you find yourself in, I think that’s a given.” He drew closer to her and stared her down. “Will you cooperate?”
“Is it going to be like the last time? Are you planning to do your bad cop routine and get all rough with me?” She crossed her arms over her chest, revealing an ample swell of cleavage. He tried to look away, but she was making it difficult in that black scrap of lace she called a dress.
Putting her over his knee and spanking her shapely ass until it turned good and red might be one way to teach her a lesson to keep her out of harm’s way. What wa
s it about this woman that had such an effect on him? Maybe it was the fact that she had long, chestnut hair, the kind he imagined wrapping around his fist, and the warmest brown eyes he’d ever seen. And her body, hell, she could bring any red-blooded male to his knees.
“Detective?”
Her voice broke into his musings. He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you start by telling me how you ended up here in the penthouse?” Garrett knew she didn’t want to answer his questions, but he wasn’t going to give her a hell of a lot of choice in the matter. Too many lives depended on it. Cops, along with two of his best friends—special agents from the MBI, Alex Denopoulos and Cayden Teague—buzzed around the room, snapping pictures of the scene and taking samples of blood. He muttered a curse. That blood could have been hers if Kurt Lawrence or one of his thugs had anything to say about it.
“My cousin’s a matchmaker and Kurt Lawrence recently took over an international dating service. Brooke and I were invited up here for what we thought was a party, to unwind from a long day and do some networking—”
“Networking?” he cut in. “Is that what he's calling it these days?” Garrett let his eyes roam over the smooth, unblemished skin on her neck and let out a sigh of relief when he found it unmarred. His gaze roamed lower to the bloodstains on her dress, not sure how they got there, finally, to the sizeable rip up the side, showing an indecent glimpse of long, toned leg. “Are you injured?”
She glanced down at her dress before her eyes met his once more. “No. The blood isn’t mine.”
Before he could ask her whose it was, his new partner, Natalya Dubrosky, who appeared to be recording the scene, walked over to him. Dressed in a conservative navy pantsuit, she stuck out like a cop amongst the sea of scantily clad women. Her probing gaze drilled into his. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to give you an update.”
Garrett had been partnered with her a short time but, enjoyed working with his female counterpart. She hailed from one of the oldest and wealthiest vampire families in the country. Females of her stature were more apt to be planning society events than work in law enforcement. But you’d never know it. She’d taken to her new position like a pro and did a damn good job.
Midnight Temptation Page 3