Midnight Temptation

by Shari Nichols

  “I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I don’t make a habit of bringing strange men or vampires to my room. And like you said, it’s none of your business.”

  “Agreed. I’ll just have a look around.” Her unique lavender scent flared in his nostrils and made him want to groan. He sniffed the air and caught the smell of an animal. “Do you have a cat?” He glanced around the spacious room, looking for anything suspicious.

  “Yes. Salem's probably hiding somewhere. It takes a while for her to warm up to strangers. How much longer is this going to take?” she asked, sounding nervous. “If one of the girls comes home and sees you in my room at this hour of the night, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

  “Maybe they’ll think this is what you’ve wanted to do since the moment we met,” he said, not able to resist goading her.

  “Keep telling yourself that if it gets you through the day. Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

  “Sorry, but you walked into that one.” He pursed his lips to keep from smiling. “I’m almost finished.” A gossamer drape caught his eye and billowed around an open window. He walked over and pulled his gloves from inside his jacket pocket and slid them on. After he dusted for prints, he turned back to face her and gestured to the window. “Was this open when you left?”

  “I don’t remember, but no one could get in. We keep charms on the windows and doors,” she explained, standing next to a desk cluttered with glass jars filled with herbs, and candles, along with piles of folded laundry.

  “If a creature is powerful enough, especially a vampire, they could find a way to break through them.” He turned to slam the window shut and click the lock in place. His gaze went from the window to the lush, green plants. He crouched to touch the soil. It was still damp, which meant someone had been in her room today. Turning his head, he glanced at the assorted pieces of clothing and shoes that left a trail from the door to the bathroom. Who knew she was a slob?

  “Sorry, maid’s day off,” she said, reaching for a pair of jeans and a sweater off the floor. She pitched both in the hamper.

  “No problem,” he muttered, and his gaze rested on the carved, wooden headboard attached to her bed and the old-fashioned cream and navy comforter decorated with big, navy throw pillows. The room exuded a romantic, ethereal vibe, much like the lady herself. An antique rattan chair sat next to the bed, piled high with clothing. It felt intimate to be standing in Gillian’s bedroom.

  “Well, have you picked up on anything else that seems suspicious, Detective, aside from the fact that I haven’t done my laundry in a while?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

  “Not so far. But you should make sure everything’s in order.” The statement was an oxymoron, considering her room was a mess. His gaze narrowed on the decks of tarot cards, candles, and spellbooks lining her shelves, curious how she learned to use them all.

  Through the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a collage of photos of her as a young girl. He couldn’t help but stop and stare. She posed alongside a very pretty woman with the same chestnut hair and goldish-brown eyes. From the resemblance, he guessed it must be her mom, and now, he knew where she’d inherited her looks. There were other pictures too, some of her with Brooke, and from the bright smiles on their faces, it was clear they shared a genuine affection for each other.

  She picked up a laundry basket and began to fill it with the clothing from the floor. His gaze landed on something small, red, and lacy…a thong. Of course she wore sexy underwear. The realization made blood rush to his groin.

  He moved behind the dresser, took off his suit jacket and folded it over his arm, hoping she wouldn’t notice his erection. She must’ve caught him staring at the underwear because a lovely blush spread from her cheeks to her neck. There was a long stretch of silence, and the air became thick with sexual tension.

  His reaction to her didn’t surprise him. She’d made quite a lasting impression on him the first time he paid a visit to her coven. He’d made the mistake of going there first thing in the morning to question her and the other women about one of their clients who had been mixed up with some stolen antiques being fenced by the Shadow Cabal. Gillian had been the one to answer the door wearing a short silk robe that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Stunned by her beauty, he had wanted to run his hands over every inch of her luscious body and lick all that creamy skin. He’d been forced to count backward from a hundred to keep his thoughts in check, a trick he’d learned at the academy. Fortunately, he had one hell of a poker face.

  The next time he stopped by to tie up some loose ends that frankly could’ve been finished from his desk, he’d been rendered momentarily speechless. The sight of her soaked in sweat with her nipples poking through her sports bra still replayed over in his mind when he was alone in his room, his hand down the front of his boxer briefs.

  He needed to do something about this infatuation. It would only lead to trouble. She was a witness—things could get messy, and if there was one thing Garrett avoided at all costs—it was messy.

  After he did a final sweep of the room, his gaze darted to hers once more. “I’m going to ask you one last time, does anything look unusual or out of place to you?”

  Mortified, Gillian gestured to the piles of clothing scattered all over her room. “Is that a real question?” she asked, heat suffusing her cheeks. Was he mocking her clutter?

  “Fine. Let me rephrase that, more so than usual?”

  “Aside from the usual mess, nothing looks strange.” Gillian turned in a circle, and her eyes landed on a flash of white peeking out from the piles of folded clothes on her desk. “I didn’t see this here before.” She walked to her desk and lifted the clothing to find a large, white package tied with a red ribbon next to her laptop. “I would’ve remembered.” She looked for a return address, but there was none, and her heart thumped against her ribs.

  “Don’t touch it.” Mulroney crossed the room in a single stride to stand beside her. “It could be evidence.”

  “Let me see if I can pick up on what’s inside.” Gillian waved her hand over the box and sucked in a breath. “I detect a kind of dark, twisted energy surrounding it.” She glanced at Mulroney, and a line appeared between his brows.

  “If that’s the case then I’m sure one of the other witches would’ve picked up on it immediately. They’d never deliver a dark object to your room.” Garrett glanced toward the hall. “Was someone else here?”

  “We have a plant service that comes every Saturday. There’s a lady that’s been coming here for years. She’ll occasionally drop off packages if she’s stopping by my room to water my plants.”

  “Are there any disgruntled customers from the shop who’d send you hate mail or weird objects? How about stalkers or ex-boyfriends out for revenge?”

  Her heart began to pound. “Not that I can think of, but I guess anything’s possible.”

  “All right then, please, take a step back.” Mulroney pulled a small pocketknife from his keychain and cut a slit at the top of the box. She caught a pungent whiff of rotten meat. When he opened the top, blood seeped out and ran along the sides. “Jesus, turn around, Miss Howe.”

  “What’s in there?” Gillian peeked inside to find the bloodied, mangled body of a white cat. Salem! Staggering back, she screamed and began to sob. “It’s my cat.”

  “Fuck…I’m sorry.” He picked up the note left in the box and read the chicken scrawl aloud.

  “Keep your mouth shut. Stay out of our way, or you and your friends will be next. If you go to the cops, you will never see Brooke again.”

  Mulroney cursed and reached for his phone. “I’m calling for back up. I need to take the evidence to the station and have forensics run some tests. Grab your suitcase and your computer. You need to pack up your stuff. You’re not staying here. You’ll need to come with me.”

  Her stomach still felt queasy, and her head spun in a million different directions. “Where are we going?”

  “So
mewhere you’ll be safe. I’m taking you to my place.”

  Chapter 8

  Lifting her phone from the front pocket of her hoodie, Gillian stared at the screen, hoping and praying Brooke would text her to tell she was okay. But it was wishful thinking on her part. She didn’t even have her phone on her, and she doubted Lawrence would let her use his. She exhaled and glanced out the window of Mulroney’s Jeep. Streetlamps lit the sidewalks, but very few people wandered around the city at this hour of the night. “I don’t get why you’re taking me to your home.”

  If someone had asked her the day before to bet on the odds of getting invited to his place, she’d say the chances of winning the NJ lottery were probably much higher.

  “The only one who can protect you against the threat of a vampire is another vampire,” he murmured from the front seat. “We’re the only ones strong enough or fast enough, except for a demon.”

  It surprised her when he pulled onto Garden Street. The treelined drive was one of the poshest neighborhoods in all of Hoboken. He parked in front of a turn of the century brownstone and cut the engine.

  “Home Sweet Home,” he said and popped the trunk. Before she could reach for the handle, he opened her door and wheeled her suitcase up the sidewalk. She got out of the car and followed him to a black wrought iron gate. He swung it open and extended his hand, motioning for her to go ahead of him.

  The crisp fall air made her shiver. She looked up into a crescent moon and saw blood, a sure sign of trouble. Her mind drifted to Brooke and then to poor Salem, and a sharp pain sliced across her chest. This was turning out to be one of the worst nights of her life, and she’d had some doozies. She walked up the steps to an ornate black front door. Two black urns filled with yellow mums cut through the darkness.

  Turning, she stared down at him, not able to hide her surprise. “Wow, this is your place? It’s not at all what I expected.” Crap did she say that out loud? She blamed it on the state of shock she was probably still in.

  “Oh? What did you expect?” He walked up the stairs and his arm brushed hers, sending a tingle along her skin. After he pulled out a key, he opened the door. A buzzing noise sounded. They both walked into the hallway. He punched some numbers into a keypad, and the blaring stopped.

  “Why would a vampire need a security system? Who would be foolish enough to break into your place?”

  “You’d be surprised. I’ve put a lot of dangerous creatures behind bars.” Mulroney shut the door and bolted the lock in place. His eyes grew dark, almost steely. “You might find it hard to imagine, but there’s a lot of people I’ve managed to piss off over the years.”

  “With a personality like yours, I would’ve never believed it for a second,” she said with mock sarcasm.

  Mulroney flicked on the lights in the hallway, illuminating the earth-toned décor. Her gaze darted to the natural wood blinds and the wrought iron chandelier. A maple table with cream fabric-covered chairs added to the serene aesthetic. The place gleamed, and it was clear from the upscale décor that he spared no expense. She tried to keep her mouth from hanging open.

  “You’re staring.”

  “Sorry. I guess I didn’t realize detectives lived like this.” Her face heated. “That was rude. I shouldn’t make assumptions.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s certainly a valid point. Those of us who have lived for a very long time can acquire wealth over many lifetimes. I work in law enforcement because I choose to, not because I need the money.”

  She nodded her head in agreement. “It makes sense.” And it was certainly admirable.

  With a twinkle in his eye, he picked up a remote and pressed a button. Jazz music piped in from overhead speakers. “Any more questions, Miss Howe?”

  “No, I think I’m good for now,” she murmured and took a few steps away from him to look around the rest of the place. She glanced up at the coffered ceilings, then her eyes moved lower to the crown moldings and ornate, white mantle on the fireplace.

  “Tell me,” he whispered from behind her. “What did you expect?”

  His voice came out deep and sultry. She imagined he could seduce any female without even trying. “What? Oh.” She turned to face him and shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She didn’t want him to know that she’d given the subject much thought. But there’d been more than one occasion where she laid awake, alone in her bed, imagining how Garrett Mulroney lived, and what he did on his off time. Nothing could’ve prepared her for this.

  She couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that she belonged here, and that none of this was a strange coincidence.

  “I guess something much simpler.” Her mind drifted to Brooke once more. She would've gone gah-gah over this place. As an avid decorator, she loved color and detail. They used to spend their off time eating take-out while binge-watching HGTV. “You said you’ve put away your fair share of dangerous criminals. What about the criminals that took my cousin? How do you plan on finding them and bringing her back?” She rubbed her temples, feeling the start of a mother of a headache coming on.

  “I’m not at liberty to go over the details of a police investigation with you, but I can assure you we’re doing everything in our power to find her. What about you? What happened back there would’ve sent anyone with a pulse into a tailspin. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice taking on a softer tone.

  No. Not at all. “I’m fine,” she lied. “My cousin was kidnapped and whoever did this killed my cat and stuffed her in a box. What makes you think something could be wrong?” Saying it all out loud made her stomach tighten into knots. She exhaled. “I apologize. It’s not fair to take my anger out on you. I appreciate what you’re doing, truly. I’m just freaking out right now.”

  His jaw visibly clenched. “It’s understandable. Killing your cat was a cowardly thing to do. I’m sorry you had to see something like that.” He took off his holster and set it on the hall table. “Lawrence was trying to send you a message to try and intimidate you.”

  The weight of his words boomeranged inside her head. “Well, I got it loud and clear.” If he was willing to kill an innocent creature like Salem, what would he do to Brooke? She couldn’t bear to let her mind go there.

  Gillian reached into her pocket to touch Brooke’s keychain. She closed her eyes and tried to tune into her, but all she could make out were grainy shadows. Frustrated, she opened her eyes, and glanced at Mulroney, hoping for some answers. “When can I go back to Brooke’s place? I have a better chance of opening a psychic link with her if I’m near her things.”

  His gaze darkened. “I’m sorry, but no one can go there right now. It’s still an official crime scene.”

  “Right. How could I forget?” Gillian tried to shrug it off, but a combination of fear and anxiety threatened to overwhelm her. She pointed to Mulroney’s phone. “How long do you think it’ll take to hear back from anyone about Brooke?”

  He glanced at the screen and frowned. “Hopefully soon. Please, come in and make yourself at home. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

  “No thanks, I’m not very hungry.” Restless, she leaned against a dining room chair but didn’t sit. “Tell me more about the vampire pulling the strings in this blood ring. He’s your sire?” She needed to do something to keep her mind off things.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on Malcom Von Scrivner for over a century, and he's doing the same thing now that he did over a hundred and fifty years ago when he turned me.” His blue eyes glowed under the lights, and it made him look otherworldly.

  She wasn’t sure what surprised her the most—Mulroney admitting to this juicy tidbit or the fact that he was practically ancient. She contemplated this new information, not sure what to say after that.

  “I know it’s easier said than done, but you need to eat and rest to keep your strength up, for Brooke’s sake as well as your own.” He slipped off his suit jacket, hung it on a hook by the door, and loosened his tie.

  His green dress shirt brought out the
blue in his eyes. The fabric hugged tight to his broad shoulders and stretched over the sculpted muscles on his chest. After he unbuttoned his cuffs, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing tan, golden skin, and brawny forearms. She never knew forearms could be sexy. The idea of checking out Mulroney when Brooke was missing filled her with guilt.

  He arched his brows, turning his full attention on her. “Miss Howe?”

  Busted. Her cheeks heated. She quickly looked away, pretending to fawn all over some statue of a guy resting his face in his hand. “I was just admiring your statue.” She felt him behind her, edging closer. His heat and masculine scent permeated the air. Her body responded in kind. Her breasts grew heavy, and her nipples tightened into points. The guilt became tenfold, forcing her to take a few steps back. She turned to face him, cautious of his proximity.

  “By all means, admire away.” He angled his head to the bronze. “Socrates sought to gain knowledge rather than victory over his opponent.”

  Mulroney was wicked smart, not to mention crazy-hot, and completely different from the men she typically met. He quoted philosophers for one and made his living protecting the innocent for another. It was bad enough that she’d slept with his jacket on her bed, feeling somehow calmed and aroused all at the same time. His intoxicating smell was the only thing that had gotten her to go back to sleep after waking from a nightmare.

  She turned back to face him and wrapped her arms around her body to stave off the chill in the room. “I still have your suit jacket. I planned to messenger it over to the station, but with everything going on, it sort of slipped my mind.”

  “It’s understandable. Don’t worry. I have plenty.” He smiled wide, and it made her knees weak. Yup. She was suffering from some kind of PTSD.

  “Do you typically bring your witnesses back to your home?” Granted she was grateful to him, but that didn’t change anything. There was still the matter of his interference, which ended up costing her a job.