She took another step and swayed. In an instant he appeared at her side, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. She wasn’t sure what unnerved her most, his closeness, or his scent, dancing across her skin with a rush of unexpected tingles.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I got a little woozy for a second. I usually don’t drink on an empty stomach. I’ll be okay. I just need to sleep.”
“I think this is becoming a habit of yours, Miss Howe. Do I make you swoon?” His voice turned husky and vibrated through every cell in her body.
She blinked, and the haze cleared. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Embarrassed, she pulled away and walked on shaky legs into a gorgeous bedroom. Covered with a white and green duvet and some throw pillows, the queen-sized bed looked inviting. An oversized chair, the same colors as the comforter, looked perfect for curling up with a good book. And speaking of books, there were tons of them. Floor to ceiling shelves were stacked with leather-bound spines, and even some old, rare looking ones.
She walked to the bookcase and thumbed through his collection. Maybe reading might help her sleep. “I’m impressed. You have all the classics. You must read a lot.”
“When I have the time. I’ve collected quite a few over the years.” He wheeled her suitcase to the corner of the room and glanced at the shelves. “Please, help yourself. Losing yourself in a good book, in my opinion, is one of the greatest passions in life.”
“I agree.” She wondered what other things Mulroney was passionate about. What would it be like to be at the center of his passion?
When she came across the three volumes of Pride and Prejudice, her heart skipped a beat. She picked up one of the maroon, leather-bound books, flipped to the first page, and gasped. “This is a first edition?”
“It belonged to my sister. It’s the only thing I still have of hers. I’ve held onto it all these years,” he murmured with a faraway look in his eyes. “Are you an Austen fan?” The question made her nostalgic.
“My mom got an old, worn copy for me when I was a young girl. We moved after my parents divorced, and it got lost. The only thing that seemed to make the new place familiar was my books.”
“How about now, are you still a big reader?” He checked the locks on the windows and then turned back to face her, studying her with a curious expression on his handsome face.
If he only knew the half of it. “I’m voracious actually. I try and read everything I can get my hands on. Cookbooks, books on philosophy, history, alchemy, love and relationships, spell books. Reading became the one thing that got me through the really hard nights at the hospital when my mom was dying.”
His gaze filled with understanding. “That must’ve been very difficult for you.”
She hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. She could blame it on the stress and the scotch. But his sensitive reaction took her by surprise. Tilting her head to the side, she gestured to the bookcase, hoping to lighten the mood. “It’s important to be up on a lot of different subjects for my podcast.”
“You have a podcast? That’s cool.”
Who was he kidding? He had to know that she auditioned for a spot on WRHL radio. She contemplated asking him flat-out if he had anything to do with leaking the investigation on the coven to the station manager since the two seemed to be buds but thought better of it. There were more important things at stake right now. Finding Brooke was the only thing that mattered. She’d put her differences with him aside because she needed his help. If she ticked him off, she wasn’t sure if he’d keep her in the loop, let alone allow her to be involved.
“I can see how apprehensive you are about all this. The last twenty-four hours must have been quite traumatic for you. Perhaps you’d like to talk to someone? I’m sure my partner Natalya Dubrosky would be more than willing.”
She tensed under his sober regard, hating the fact she was so transparent. It was clear he was uncomfortable, and she couldn’t blame him. He was a handsome, eligible bachelor. He didn’t need her cramping his style. No, this wouldn’t do at all. She straightened and took a step away from him, needing some distance. “There’s no need. I’m sorry for putting you out like this.”
“It’s my job, Miss Howe. I’m following protocol.” Shutters clamped down on those ice-blue eyes, the warmth from a moment ago now gone.
The sudden shift in his demeanor made her chest grow tight. “Of course, protocol.” It was high time to get any silly romantic fantasies about him out of her head. “I appreciate what you’re doing…really I do, but hopefully, I’ll be out of here tomorrow. Whatever’s going on in my head is nothing for you to be concerned with. Finding Brooke and putting this maniac to justice is my main priority, my only priority, and should be yours.”
He closed the distance between them in a blur. “You don’t need to tell me how to do my job.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He placed a gentle finger on her lips. His touch seared her, leaving a trail of heat and raw need. He took a step away like he’d been burned. “There’s no need to explain yourself. Please let me know if there’s anything you need.” He glanced at the bed. “You’re probably exhausted. You should get some sleep.”
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” Gillian said under her breath. “I’d like to take a shower. I, um, also wanted to say I appreciate everything that you’re doing.” Talk about awkward.
His gaze bore into hers, hot and intense. “You’re welcome. There are fresh towels in the bathroom. I sleep upstairs in the master suite but not while you’re staying here. I’ll use the room across the hall for the most part. I need to remain close to you at all times to make sure you’re safe, especially tonight. They’ll be looking for you.”
Power and strength practically radiated from his pores. It made her feel safe and on edge at the same time.
She let out a nervous giggle. “Surely that’s taking it a step too far.”
“You threatened Lawrence’s reputation, which is everything to him. It’s how he built his empire. And now the truth has come out. It’s all going to come crashing down. You’re our prime witness in this investigation, which means he’ll want you out of the way. Who knows who he’ll send for you? I still don’t believe we were followed, but that doesn’t mean I can afford to get sloppy. I’m not taking any chances with your life.” The fierce look in his eyes made her breath hitch. He pointed to the chair. “Granted, it’s not ideal, but this will be my bed for the night.”
Her whole body liquefied. At that moment she could have been knocked over with the brush of a feather. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the hits kept coming. She prayed for peaceful dreams, free of dead cats, blood rings, trancing, and tall, dark, brooding vampires for that matter.
Chapter 9
Walking into his bedroom on the third floor, Garrett placed his phone on the nightstand and peeled off his clothes, leaving a trail on his way to the shower. Yet another night he’d be taking a cold one. Not that it would do much to cool his ardor.
Hell, he’d been taking cold showers for months now. Having Gillian a breath away was going to be excruciating. He glanced down at the hard ridge of his erection. From the very beginning, his reaction to Gillian Howe had always been the same. His body had been on a heightened sense of alert all day long, since the moment he found her in Starbucks. Guilt made his gut clench. He had no business checking her out when she was vulnerable, in fear for her cousin’s life.
He glanced at his phone, still nothing about Lawrence. This case beckoned him, and yet, his mind was too preoccupied with Gillian. He couldn’t let this go on. She was occupying way too many of his thoughts as it was, which meant he needed to find another way to draw the head of the Brotherhood out ASAP. Endangering her life and using her as bait was a terrible option. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized she wasn’t only beautiful, but caring and altruistic. How could he willingly put her in danger? Frankly, the captain’s pl
an sucked. Despite his misgivings, he’d have to tell her the truth at some point. She’d been through hell and back tonight, no need to pile it on.
The downstairs shower turned on, and his whole body tightened in anticipation. It was like having an invisible string pulling at him twenty-four-seven.
All night long he had become painfully aware of her every move and her scent. Touching her casually ignited a simmering flame ready to blaze into an inferno. He wanted to do a hell of a lot more than touch. He wanted to taste her and explore every inch of her skin. He’d spread her legs and spend hours giving her unimaginable pleasure.
The last thing Garrett ever expected to do was bring her here in the middle of the night, but what choice did he have? Lawrence wouldn’t stop pursuing her, and he wouldn’t trust anyone else to protect her.
A part of him still couldn’t believe she was in his apartment. He’d fantasized about it more times than he could count. A rope of excitement coiled down his spine. He’d been fantasizing about getting her alone for months. He wanted to talk to her, get to know her better…learn everything about her inside and out. Tonight, he’d gotten more than he bargained for.
Sex had always been fulfilling, but with Gillian he suspected, it would be exhilarating and addictive, the kind of connection any man or vampire would give his soul for. He groaned in frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Living under the same roof with her was going to be pure torture. He had to talk to one of the team to find out if they had any leads. He picked up his phone and shot out a group text to Alex, Cayden, and his partner. Then, he plugged his phone in the charger, not expecting to hear back until the morning.
After he went to his closet and gathered some dress shirts, slacks, jackets, and belts, he laid them on his bed. Muttering a curse, he walked to his dresser, and pulled out boxers, socks, and some pajama pants, enough to move into the downstairs guest room for a stretch.
By the time he made his way into the bathroom for his shaving kit, his thoughts spun in a thousand different directions. The water cut off downstairs, and after a few minutes, he heard the soft footfalls of Gillian headed back to her room. When the door shut, the sound of her quiet sobs pierced his chest like a knife.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after three. Maybe he’d come up with a way to tell her about this new plan by the morning. He rubbed a hand over his face, and just maybe, he was kidding himself.
When he finished with his shower, Garrett tiptoed downstairs to the second floor, careful not to wake Gillian. He ducked into the guest room across the hall and booted up his desktop to check his email. His boss had sent him the client list from the Cherry woman. But how did it relate to Malcom? He’d been looking for the Ancient for over a century and had come up emptyhanded. The Du Sang Brotherhood had the vampire’s name written all over it. His sire had to be close.
He typed his name into the RHPD database and waited. The Ancient vampire had all but disappeared like a wisp of smoke after he’d left Hungary.
His hands curled into fists when he found a link to a website for some type of elite singles dating service that both Lawrence and a Malcom Strauss were involved in. Somehow this was all tied together. He felt it deep in his gut.
Sadly, it wasn’t in a neat little bow. He pulled out his cell and sent the info to the agents and his partner. For now, he’d just have to wait.
It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that Malcom had come to Hoboken or the neighboring town of Raven’s Hollow because of Sybil’s Cave. From what he’d gleaned over the many years of living here, the caves were excavated back in the nineteenth century and held a natural spring. When a vampire drank the water, their vitality became restored, especially for those who sucked the blood from the sick and the weak, much like his sire had done to him. Vampires had flocked here from all over the world to gain access to the water until it became a rare commodity. Now only those with connections to shady figures could get their hands on it. The cops and the MBI left the caves alone, never having enough resources to do a clean sweep of the place. Could Sybil’s Cave be connected to the Brotherhood somehow?
Garrett contemplated all the possibilities as he tapped his fingers on his desk.
If Malcom was behind this trafficking ring, he’d make sure he paid. Thinking about his sire turned his mood dark. He leaned back in his chair and took deep breaths to calm the rage building in his gut.
After spending a few more hours researching the case, he finally logged off the computer. Drained, he got to his feet and stalked across the hall to the room Gillian was staying in. Even before he crossed the threshold, he could detect the steady sound of her breath and the soft flutter of her heart.
Moonlight spilled in from the window, illuminating her sleeping form. He walked to the bed and stood over her, mesmerized by the sight in front of him. She reminded him of a rare piece of art he got to admire for the first time. His chest grew tight when he saw her tear-streaked cheeks. Fighting the urge to wipe them away, he pushed his hands into his pockets. She’d been through hell tonight and held up remarkably well. Beams of moonlight licked across her skin. Her hair fanned her pillow like spun silk. The sight of her took his breath away. Her beauty tamed the beast within him. Women like her were the inspiration for sonnets and love songs—the downfall of kingdoms.
She murmured in her sleep and kicked off the covers, half expecting to see her in a scant piece of lingerie he’d spotted in her room, she wore a simple white tank top that emphasized the swell of her breasts and the outline of her nipples. He could almost make out their pink, dusky color. His cock instantly swelled.
“No, you can’t,” she whispered.
He realized she was having a nightmare. When he smelled her fear, he placed his hand on her shoulder. Her skin was even softer than he imagined. A gentle shake didn’t wake her, but when she whimpered, he shook her again, a bit firmer this time. Finally, she stopped twisting about and moaned in her sleep, her face flushing as pink as her nipples. Her breaths grew shallow. Whatever she was dreaming about now, it wasn’t a nightmare. He could smell her arousal.
“Garrett,” she whispered.
Part of him wanted to rouse her awake, wrap her in his arms, and comfort her with deep kisses and soft caresses. The other part of him feared he was in over his head. She let out a breath, turned on her side, and fell back into a deeper sleep. At least now how he knew she didn’t hate him.
Shaking with lust, and a possessiveness he couldn’t explain, he took a step back and sank into the chair. With the tempting scent of her arousal surrounding him and the soft breathy sounds coming from her lips, he wondered if this longing would ever go away. His body was strung tight, hard as stone.
One thing became crystal clear, he needed to push aside his selfish desires and relinquish this foolish infatuation once and for all. As long as he stayed frozen in his immortal existence, he had nothing to offer Gillian. Worse, his ties to his sire would put her in even more danger.
He’d do everything in his power to make sure no harm came to her, even if that meant pushing her away.
Chapter 10
A ray of bright morning sunshine filtered in from the bedroom window and forced Gillian to shield her eyes. Momentarily disoriented from being in a strange bed, she remembered where she was and turned her head so fast she was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash.
Glancing over at the empty chair, she let out a sigh and sat up. Mulroney must’ve left his post at some point early in the morning. The idea of him watching her while she slept made her seriously self-conscious. Had he heard her snoring or caught her drooling? Goddess, she hoped not.
Fumbling around for her phone to see if anyone had contacted her, she realized she’d left it charging downstairs. What if Brooke had found a way to call? If only there was a way to know if she was okay.
Mulroney vowed that he’d do everything in his power to find her, and despite their differences, she believed him. If
nothing else, he was a man of his word.
She had to try to find out more about where Brooke was being held. After she kicked off the covers, she walked to her suitcase and pulled out her tarot cards along with her crystals. She arranged both across the bed and tried to tune into Brooke’s energy. At first, all she could make out were the same dark, grainy images from last night. She cleared her mind and concentrated harder. After a few deep breathes, Brooke appeared. She walked through a maze of sprawling green lawns.
Her heart thumped against her ribs. She was alive, but she could be anywhere.
She blinked, and the image disappeared. Frustrated, she got out of bed and reached for her robe, which she’d hung on the back of the door. She threw it on over her tank top and PJ shorts and then grabbed her toiletry case out of her suitcase. It made no sense to unpack; she wouldn’t be staying long.
After she padded down the hall to the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face. When she glanced in the mirror at her reflection, dark smears appeared under her eyes, and she had a serious case of bed head after sleeping on wet hair. She looked like death warmed over. She’d have to apply a boatload of concealer when she got ready for work. The idea of going about her day and acting natural when Brooke was still missing filled her stomach with nervous butterflies.
Mulroney said she needed to stick to her routine, and part of her morning routine involved meditation to replenish her magick and going for a run to clear her head. Nothing, except maybe a good orgasm, beat the endorphin release, and today, she could use both. But asking Mulroney to accompany her on her morning jog would be pushing it, although having him help her with the orgasm sounded tempting but completely out of the question.
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