He had work to do tonight.
* * * *
Josie awoke with a start. She moved her arms, dully wondering why her silk sheets felt so coarse against her body. Reality took hold, and she sat up.
“Grant?” she called out.
Not a soul stirred in the darkened room. Next door, grunts and moans of pleasure signaled the consummation of the newlyweds’ marriage. Embarrassment washed over her. Had they heard her and Grant so plainly?
Where was he anyway? Was he feeding? If so, on what?
On the dresser was a large plastic bag, and the aroma of food drifted to her. Suddenly ravenous, she sprang from the bed and tore into the bag like a starving animal. She ignored the plastic silverware and picked up the cold, rare meat with both of her hands and sank her teeth into it.
How long had she been sleeping?
Chewing on the huge bite of T-bone steak, she scanned the room, noting how well her vision had adjusted to the dark motel. It was much like watching an old black-and-white movie. She frowned. There wasn’t a clock anywhere.
She cleaned the rest of the meat off the T-bone and moved on to an undercooked salmon steak, the soft flesh of the fish dispensed with much quicker than the steak. With her hunger partially abated, she sat on the edge of the messy bed. Grant’s pungent scent of male musk and that peculiar spicy aroma still hung thick in the air. She could taste it on the back of her tongue.
“Well, I guess I’m on my own tonight,” she said aloud to the empty room. “Poor Sasha must be famished.” She’d left out a small amount of dry food for her to snack on through the day, but her canned food was the staple of her diet.
Josie rose and threw on her discarded, borrowed clothing, wishing she at least had a bra and underwear. The formal loafers she wore to work looked silly with the rest of her attire, but they were comfortable.
How am I going to get to my house from here?
She searched a little guiltily through Grant’s bags and was elated when she found her wallet and badge that had been in the pocket of her coat. She couldn’t find her cellphone, but she located a phonebook and called a cab from the motel room phone; she dreaded the charge she would see on her credit card from the long trip.
The ride was about ten minutes to Franklin from Gladsworth along the interstate. Josie had the driver drop her off at the end of a street, several blocks from her own place. She felt somewhat like a criminal sneaking through the darkness, trying her best to stay within the shadows. If a patrol car saw her and picked her up, she wasn’t sure she could answer all the questions they’d throw at her.
The night was cold, her breath a heavy fog in the air as she walked, but it felt good against her hot skin. The air smelled of moist earth, pavement, and car exhaust.
Would it always be like this? She hated the idea of spending her existence slipping through shadows, hiding herself from the world. When could she return to work?
She hadn’t heard the news but was sure she had figured heavily into their reports. A missing detective would have improved ratings considerably, especially one that had been a victim of a serial killer.
Josie had made up her mind that Grant wasn’t the killer, simply an officer of the law, in a way. Of course, that meant she’d broken her own rule of never getting involved with a cop. Doing so meant facing the fact she might lose him each day he headed off to work.
Were they involved? Did Grant consider them involved?
Insecurity rushed into her. She broke into a jog, then a dead run, feeling a rush of power and speed she’d never before experienced. The world was a blur around her as she dashed the remaining block and a half to her street. Breaking stride, she found she wasn’t the least bit winded.
She grinned. This would help immeasurably in foot pursuits.
Her home stood dark, almost ominous, as she walked to the side gate of the privacy-fenced backyard. It sat in a subdivision that had been established in the late seventies, and the home itself still carried much of the architecture of the time. Some might think her home was outdated, but it was all hers, and she loved it.
At the keypad by the sliding glass of the patio door, Josie lifted her finger to punch in the security code to disarm her home’s alarm system. She frowned, seeing the alarm had already been deactivated. Maybe she had forgot to arm it when she left.
Somewhere, a neighbor’s dog barked then howled, its mournful call filling the night air. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. Something was out of place.
An odor carried in the air, something sharp and familiar that tickled her senses. She placed a hand on the sliding glass door and gave it a nudge. It slid a few centimeters.
I know I didn’t leave the place unlocked.
Automatically reaching for her non-existent sidearm, Josie considered her next move. Someone was in her home and she was unarmed. Well, perhaps not completely unarmed. She ran her tongue over her teeth only to find her sharp canine teeth were gone. Okay, completely unarmed. Crap.
The patio door slid on the track with a slight hiss, and Josie held her breath, listening for movement. A spicy odor hung heavy in the air, along with something more familiar. A strong male musk that struck tantalizing cords within her. Josie stepped into her dining room.
Why has Grant been here?
Suddenly, fear crept within her along with the memory of the other two murders, and the arson of the Gomez home. Was she mistaken in believing Grant innocent?
Was he still here?
A whisper of movement from the kitchen caught her attention. Her night vision had adjusted, and everything stood in sharp black-and-white contrast. Slowly, she made her way to the serving window in the wall separating the kitchen and dining room. As she peered into the kitchen, her breath left her lungs in a whoosh.
Sasha. The cat was nudging her empty food bowl, making it scrape across the linoleum. She looked up at her person and yowled. Josie waved a hand in vain to hush the cat, but Sasha began a noisy round of requests to be fed.
“Josie?”
The voice made Josie scream, and she whirled around.
Chapter 6
“Grant? What the hell are you doing here?” Josie asked.
“You said you needed to feed your cat. I figured I’d stop by and do it,” he said, shrugging. He stared at the wall to her left.
He was lying.
Grant put his hands on his narrow hips, his gaze casting to the floor. An odd sensation in her mouth had her exploring her teeth with her tongue. Her sharp canines had lengthened. She pulled her lips back, exposing them in an instinctive threat display.
“I know this looks bad,” Grant said, extending his hands palms up toward her.
She stepped back. “You’re the killer, aren’t you? You’re the one who burned down the Gomez house.”
“I can explain—” he began, but Josie cut him off.
“Explain what? The murders of two women? What were you planning on doing with me?”
“Lewis!” a shocked voice called from the patio door.
She and Grant spun to find Detective Jones standing within the open sliding glass door. Jones had a look of complete disbelief on his face as he trained his service revolver on Grant. The beam of the flashlight Jones carried momentarily blinded her, and she blinked then rubbed her eyes.
“Get out of here, Josie,” Grant said in a low voice.
Her eyes refocused, and she found he had moved his body between her and Jones.
“Oh my God, Lewis, I can’t believe you’re alive,” Detective Jones said, his revolver still trained on Grant.
Did bullets work on their kind? She didn’t want to find out.
“He’s here to burn the place down, Josie,” Grant said, his voice low and menacing.
Jones’s stance never wavered, though his eyes widened a tiny fraction.
She shook her head. “But you were here first,” Josie said in confusion. “Why would Jones burn down my home?”
“It’s part of his game,” Grant s
aid, taking a side step as she tried to move from behind him.
“Game?” None of this made sense. Ms. Gomez’s body had been missing blood, and that had to mean a vampire. Grant, she reasoned.
But she’d given Detective Jones the security code to disarm the alarm when she’d gone out of town several months back so he could feed Sasha.
“He’s your killer,” Grant said. “He’s a Dissenter, a feral vampire. I believe he was recently changed. He’s the reason I’m here.” His body was tightly coiled, ready to pounce. “When I got here, I hid in the neighbor’s yard and watched him leave your house. The electrical box in the basement has been tampered with. I’m guessing that burning your house down after your disappearance is something to drive the investigation off track. He’s messing with the cops’ heads.”
“The man is crazy, Lewis. How long have you known me?” Jones asked. “A vampire? The man is obviously crazy.”
She stared wide-eyed at first Grant, then Detective Jones.
“I figured he’d make an appearance here tonight, since he burned down the Gomez and the Montgomery house. A job usually left to me to hide evidence of vampire attacks. I’d been one step behind until now,” Grant said as his fists clenched and unclenched.
“The Montgomery house wasn’t burned,” Josie said. “Was it?”
“Don’t listen to him, Lewis. Get over here,” Jones demanded.
“You were just having your fun, baiting the cops by changing your MO slightly here and there.” Grant again took a side step as she moved over impatiently. She was a cop and a vampire for crying out loud. She didn’t need to be protected.
“Jones isn’t a vampire. I’ve known him for years,” Josie said.
Who was telling the truth? Her head said her fellow officer Detective Jones. But her heart said Grant.
In a flash of movement, Grant lunged forward, catching Jones off guard. The gun went off, the bullet lodging in the ceiling. The two men tumbled to the floor, the flashlight flying through the air. Somehow, a long, sharp dagger appeared from nowhere, and Josie looked from man to man, fearing for first one then the other. They scuffled for the weapon, and it flew from their flailing hands, landing at her feet. She reached down and grabbed it.
Grant had the advantage, straddling Detective Jones with his hand over the downed man’s throat.
“For God’s sake, Lewis, stab him through the heart with the damn thing,” Jones choked out.
Her gaze moved to Grant as indecision flooded her mind.
Who was telling the truth?
Grant looked her in the eyes.
Stab him through the heart with the damn thing. She met Jones’s wide eyes, and he quickly looked away. She knew then.
In a lightning fast movement, she surged forward and, just before driving the blade home, she flashed her sharp canines as fury boiled in her blood. “You were going to burn my house down with my cat inside it!”
As the blade descended, Detective Jones’s lips curled back over teeth, long and deadly sharp, his vampiric scent flooding her nostrils. A hiss escaped just as the blade drove deep into the monster’s heart.
Then it was over.
Grant stood and took Josie into his arms as hot, salty tears burned her eyes, then welled over, rolling down her cheeks. The detective’s eyes were glassy, still staring at her, and Grant moved between her and the detective’s body.
Somewhere in the neighborhood, the long, mournful howl of the dog ceased.
* * * *
Authorities were reporting that the death of Detective Ivan Jones closed the investigation into the homicides of Jolene Gomez and Claire Montgomery. Evidence had been found linking him to the unsolved murders. It also solved the mysterious disappearance of Detective Josilynn Lewis and the subsequent arson of her home.
The news report brought a sigh of relief to Josie, who sat in a motel room in Franklin, a temporary home until she could find a permanent place of residence. She stroked Sasha’s soft, dark blue coat, and the cat stretched a lazy paw before curling deeper into Josie’s lap.
At least she doesn’t seem to care I’m a scary vampire now.
A half-blood anyway, since she couldn’t bring herself to taste human blood, even the donor blood Grant fed on, despite the constant craving.
She had told authorities that Jones had kidnapped her then taken her back to her own home to murder her. Josie had explained how she’d managed to wrestle away the weapon he’d used to murder his victims and stab him with it. She had then escaped in the nick of time after an electrical short set her home ablaze. It was all a lie, of course. When Jones had told her how to kill Grant by stabbing him in the heart, and he couldn’t look her in the eye afterward, she’d known Grant had been telling the truth.
Luckily, the Montgomery home had caught on fire, hiding the evidence of her excessive blood loss, which would’ve been difficult to explain away. Her home had to also burn with the body of the detective inside to hide his true identity.
As a newly inducted member of the Order of Terminus, she had to cover all evidence of the truth. It helped that Detective Jones had kept trophies from both the Gomez and Montgomery murders, including vials of the victims’ blood and stolen personal effects family members identified.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Grant walked in the door of the motel room, carrying takeout and a paper bag filled with canned and dry cat food.
“Hey yourself,” Josie said, smiling up at the man she’d finally admitted to herself that she might be falling in love with.
He dropped a kiss on her lips and scratched the top of Sasha’s sleeping head. Her white whiskers moved forward in a kitty smile, and she purred in pleasure. He walked back out, then reappeared, carrying a large bouquet of roses. Josie’s face lit up, and she gently set Sasha from her lap. She took the offered flowers and removed the card. On it was a handwritten note.
Sorry I had to let your house burn down. Love, Grant.
She blushed and reread the last two words. Her gaze moved up to his eyes, and he was smiling with that darling dimple showing.
“Love, Grant?” Josie said, lifting her eyebrows. Her heartrate kicked up. His knowing grin let her know he could hear its rapid staccato that betrayed her own emotions.
His eyes twinkled mischievously. “I bought those for Sasha, you know.”
She grabbed the front of his shirt and laughed. “Shut up and kiss me.”
He caught her lips in a gentle but passionate kiss that sealed her fate. She was indeed falling hard for him.
And somewhere, far off in the distance, under the sounds of traffic and a siren, a dog let out a long, mournful howl.
Blood Desires
Kate Andrews goes in search of her missing sister and finds herself in the home of two sexy, identical twin brothers. Aiden and Remann are perfect gentlemen, but Kate knows that one or both of them could be responsible for her sister’s disappearance. When she’s invited to stay in their lavish home she jumps at the opportunity to do some snooping. But she soon finds she can’t ignore the chemistry between her and Aiden.
Aiden is a Hunter in the Order of Terminus. Rumors of a Dissenter, a feral vampire, have surfaced, and he fears it’s one of his brother’s former Feeders...and the sister of the lovely woman staying in their home. Though he tries to keep his distance from the human he can’t help but fall under her spell. When he finally tracks down the Dissenter and the truth of what he is comes out, will it shatter the fragile connection between he and Kate?
Chapter 1
Monday the 27th
Dear Diary,
…P.S. to my last entry
I just got the call that I’m in! I have a meeting tonight with Remann and I’ll be offering myself to him. He’s very picky about his Feeders, but it turns out I’m perfectly his type—type AB-negative that is.
Kate Andrews pitched the diary next to where she sat on the bed. A painful lump lodged in her throat. Hot tears stung her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She’d read this last entry o
f her half-sister, Melanie’s diary perhaps a dozen times. Each time she tried to find some hidden clue to her nineteen-year-old sister’s whereabouts.
“Oh, Melly, where are you?” she asked the empty room.
Kate rose from the bed and walked into the living room and found a can of goldfish food. Sprinkling a pinch in the aquarium, she watched the hungry goldfish gobble up the flakes. Their scales caught the aquarium light and reflected it back in a metallic glimmer that danced over their little bodies. After she watered a couple of ferns, Kate took another walk through the apartment Melanie rented.
Melanie James had gone missing three days before, the night of the last entry in her journal. Kate brushed away the tears staining her cheeks, licking the salty taste from her lips. Melanie had been an aspiring fashion model in Chicago with the looks and attitude to carry her into the business. Yet within six months after she’d started her career, she’d fallen into a gothic underworld, according to the journal.
At thirty years old, Kate was level-headed and didn’t hold much stock in the paranormal or supernatural. Vampires were just silly teenage crap as far as she was concerned. Her sister had fallen for it full-heartedly and somewhere out there was living some crazy fantasy…Kate hoped anyway, because the alternative was unthinkable.
The police hadn’t taken much of an interest in Melanie’s disappearance. They assured Kate that her sister had fallen in with the ‘wrong crowd’ and probably drugs. They’d promised to keep an eye out for her on street corners, much to Kate’s disgust and frustration. Melanie wasn’t the type to do drugs and certainly wouldn’t sell her body, though Kate worried what offering herself to this Remann meant. Her sister had always been adamant about saving herself for marriage, a reflection of their Baptist upbringing.
Later that evening in her own apartment, Kate studied Melanie’s diary. Most of its contents were the names and details on various vampires and people who called themselves Feeders. It revolted Kate as she read that these so called Feeders offered their blood to people who thought themselves vampires. The idea of all the communicable diseases these crazy people were exposing themselves to made her stomach roll, and she feared for Melanie’s safety.
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