His attention was now drawn to the enormous bouncer who looked more like a mountain than a man, and the muscles in his arms that were barely contained by the leather jacket. He hadn’t taken his glare off Doug for a second and had positioned himself in a protective posture near the Hollingsworth woman.
When he opened his mouth, the voice matched the body.
“Nope,” he uttered in a deep baritone. “Can’t say that I do.”
Doug took the picture out of his pocket and held it up for the odd couple to have a look at. He kept his attention focused on the woman, looking for any sign of recognition, but she didn’t flinch.
“Don’t recognize him?” Doug asked quietly as he kept his gaze fixed on her oval face. She reminded him of a porcelain doll with smooth, delicate skin, and he’d bet his entire shitty salary that it tasted like snow.
Concentrate, Paxton. Jesus. What the hell is wrong with me?
He cleared his throat, hoping that his partner didn’t notice how off balance this woman made him. “Could he have been here in the club last night?”
“I have hundreds of people in and out of here six nights a week, officer. Could he have been here? Sure,” she added with a casual shrug.
“Well, ma’am,” Tom began, “we hate to be pests, but according to his friends, he was here last night real late. Until closing. We were told he was buzzing around one of your bartenders. A pretty, little blond… by the name of…” Tom looked at his notes.
“Maya,” Doug finished.
He locked eyes with the Hollingsworth woman, and a shock went straight to his dick. His gaze slid to her full lips. Damn. He bet they were soft and sweet, like plums in the summertime. It was all he could do to keep from reaching out to touch her and see if he was right. He glanced into those glittering pools of green, and he could swear she smirked. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she knew exactly what was going through his dirty mind.
Heat crept up his neck at his lack of professionalism. He’d never flirted with anyone while on an investigation, but this woman had him forgetting himself on every level. Doug cleared his throat and focused on the notes he was making in a useless attempt to stop ogling her. That lasted about three seconds, before he found himself looking into those bright green eyes once again.
“Maya is one of our bartenders,” she said, with a polite smile. She turned to Damien. “Go get Maya please, so we can straighten this out.”
Damien nodded and went inside to get the girl.
“Ms. Hollingsworth,” Doug began in an attempt to regain some semblance of professionalism.
“Olivia. Please call me Olivia.” Her voice softened a bit. “Would you gentleman like to come inside? The club is just closing up.”
“No. Thank you, ma’am—I mean, Olivia.” Doug felt foolish, like some adolescent schoolboy.
“So how was he killed, Detective Daly?” Her attention shifted immediately to Tom, and the icy tone had returned as quickly as it had left. Doug sighed. He would never understand women.
“Well, you see, ma’am, they found him inside a dumpster over on Second Ave. Someone cut him up pretty good.” Tom stopped suddenly, slapped Doug in the chest, and nodded past Olivia.
Doug saw the bouncer approaching with a sexy blond, and the moment he set eyes on her, he knew she wasn’t the doer. She was far too small to have put Ronald in the dumpster—at least without help.
He glanced at his partner. Tom had a weakness for sweet, young things like this one, which was why he was no longer married. The petite bartender looked innocent, but Doug had enough time on the street to know that she was anything but that, and the image of a black widow spider came to mind.
She wasn’t the kind to kill a man dead and leave him a dumpster. No. She was the kind to rip out your heart and laugh all the way to the bank.
A different kind of deadly, but deadly nonetheless.
* * *
Olivia turned to see Damien on his way out of the club with Maya. She looked back in time to see the two cops smile and exchange a knowing look. Typical. Olivia struggled to keep from rolling her eyes. Detective Daly may have been old enough to be Maya’s father, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to bang her. Most men wanted to bang Maya, along with plenty of women for that matter.
“So, I hear you two handsome officers want to speak to little old me?” Maya’s singsong voice made Olivia want to puke.
Olivia pulled Maya close and put an arm around her. “Maya, these two detectives are investigating the death of a young man. Do you know him? Perhaps you served him last night at the bar?” If you know what’s good for you, you will act like you barely recognize him. You are in such deep shit with me, Maya, it’s not even funny.
Doug held up the picture, and Maya looked sweetly at it, with all the innocence she could muster. She shook her head and tossed her long blond locks over her bare shoulders with one hand. It was moments like this that Olivia wished like hell she could telepath with Damien.
“He’s awful cute.” Maya smiled. “Yes, sir. I saw him here last night. He put away plenty of beers, and when that happens, well, you know how flirty boys can be,” she said, batting her huge blue eyes. “But I didn’t really pay much attention to him after I served his drinks. After we closed up for the night, I hit the sack.” She giggled. “A girl just can’t get enough beauty sleep. Sorry I can’t be of more help, officers.”
Olivia was surprised by the violent and uncharacteristic surge of jealousy that flared inside of her. She had the ridiculous urge to beat the crap out of Maya for looking at Doug the way she did. Flustered, she straightened up and dropped her arm from Maya’s shoulders, hoping that her jealousy wasn’t visible to anyone but herself.
Doug put the picture back in his notebook and smiled at Maya. Olivia’s jealousy subsided when she saw he looked at Maya the way one would look at a silly child. At least he’s smart, she thought.
“Maya lives here in one of the apartments in my building, and I can assure you that she was at the club working until well past closing. Thank you, Maya,” Olivia said a bit too quickly. “Why don’t you go back and help the girls clean up?”
Maya locked her big blue eyes on Detective Daly and winked. “Be sure to come and have a drink with us some time, detective.” Giggling, she flounced back inside the club.
Olivia noticed that the older man couldn’t take his eyes off her ass, which wasn’t surprising. Men fell all over themselves to get her attention when she was human, and now that she was a vampire—all bets were off.
Doug, however, kept his attention on Olivia, which she found surprisingly unsettling. It had been centuries since anyone made her so on edge and uncertain of herself. Hell, she was a retired sentry and had spent the better part of a century kicking all kinds of supernatural ass, so feeling like some kind of lovesick teenager was bizarre.
“Well, if you do remember anything, please don’t hesitate to call.” Doug handed his business card to Olivia and delivered the most knee-buckling, dimpled smile she’d seen in centuries. “Anytime. Day or night.”
Her lips curved, and it was all she could do to keep her fangs at bay.
When Olivia took the card, her fingertips brushed his, and every coherent thought flew out of her head as the tattoo on her neck tingled warmly. His intense blue eyes captured hers, and if her heart still beat, it would’ve stopped.
She studied his handsome and painfully familiar face with genuine awe. The chiseled cheekbones, square jaw, perfect nose, and full lips added up to the man she used to know and the lover from her dreams.
She wasn’t crazy—he looked and sounded exactly like Douglas. For shit’s sake, they had the same first name.
Bloodmate.
The word ran through her mind over and over, like a broken record.
His dark blond hair looked as thick as she remembered and probably felt just as good. However, it was those sharp, turquoise blue eyes that set her on fire and ignited something far more than bloodlust. His gaze remained locked wit
h hers, and the exquisite pang of desire flared brightly, warming her normally chilly body.
In that brief moment, she remembered what it felt like to be alive.
Doug started to leave with his partner but stopped and turned to face Olivia. “By the way, Ms. Hollingsworth, if we need to speak with you again, is this the best place to reach you?”
Olivia smiled before she could stop herself. “Yes, detective. I live in an apartment within the building.” She reached into the pocket of her slacks and retrieved her black and silver business card. “You showed me yours, so it’s only fair that I show you mine.”
Doug gave her a knowing smile and took the card from her fingers without looking away.
“My personal cell number is listed on the back.” She arched one eyebrow. “Feel free to call me if you require anything at all.”
“Good to know,” he said softly, before looking at the card. “Thank you, Olivia.”
“Yo, Paxton,” Tom called from the corner. “We gotta go, man.”
“Duty calls.” Before he disappeared around the corner, Doug looked back and flashed that disarming smile one more time. She caressed his business card between her fingers and rubbed her tongue along the tip of her fangs. The combination of anger, lust, and longing had sent her body into overdrive.
A customer had been murdered, and the love of her life was back from the grave.
Fate was one cruel bitch.
Unnerved, and off her game, Olivia turned and swept through the almost-empty club with her sights set on Maya. As soon as this place clears out, I want the entire coven at the bar for a meeting. No excuses, Maya. Her voice touched their collective minds with all the force she’d intended, and the concerned looks exchanged between them weren’t lost on her.
She was annoyed with the mess Maya had made and totally off balance by the appearance of Doug. However, at that particular moment, she didn’t give a crap how uncomfortable it made the rest of them. Maya had brought this shit-show to their doorstep, and it was about time she learned to take responsibility for her actions.
Olivia strode past without sparing a glance at anyone, went directly to her office with the Authorized Personnel Only sign, and shut the door quickly behind her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the door, struggling to gather control over her hot-wired body. Her head spun as that word continued to thunder through her mind—bloodmate.
“Douglas is back from the dead, Maya might’ve killed a guy, and both events happen when Vincent is in town.” Olivia pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Awesome.”
A warm, furry body rubbed against her legs, and a familiar whine filled the room. Olivia looked down and smiled wearily at the loyal German shepherd. He barked his welcome and sat on his haunches, waiting for her to give him a proper greeting.
“What?” Olivia shook her head, squatted next to the enormous dog, and rubbed his brown and black coat. “I know, I know. I should’ve seen the Maya thing coming. She’s still a youngling and has a hearty appetite for screwing around with the boys. Maybe I’m showing my age, or maybe I just don’t give a shit anymore? Either way, it’s sloppy, and when the Presidium gets wind of this, there’s going to be hell to pay. Not to mention Vincent’s impending visit. Shit.”
Van Helsing licked her face and put his large paw on her knee in his own version of a hug.
“Hey!” Olivia laughed. “I just got this suit.”
Van Helsing growled and dropped his paw.
“But I appreciate the gesture.”
She scratched his ears before making her way to her desk. Olivia sat in the large leather chair, and Van immediately lay at her feet, as he was prone to do.
“If Maya killed that kid and made this mess, then we’re in some deep shit, my friend. You know how the Presidium feels about messy and public human killings.”
Van Helsing lifted his head and watched her intently. She spoke to him as if he could actually understand her, and sometimes she was convinced he did.
She didn’t want to scare Maya or the others, but the severity of the crime was not one to take lightly. The only disruption the vampire government hated more than messy human killings were unregistered new vampires—that was the biggest indiscretion as far as the elders were concerned. All seasoned vampires were limited to two vampires per year, and they had to be registered with the Presidium records keeper in their district immediately.
Olivia held up the white business card and read his name over and over.
Doug Paxton.
Her lips lifted as she switched on the computer. Not only did he look and sound exactly like her young lover from her human life, but he also had the same first name. Even though it had been close to three centuries since she’d laid eyes on him in the flesh, she’d never forget that silky smooth voice or those piercing blue eyes.
Douglas was killed the same night she was turned, and the memory of it still stung.
Shaking off the unpleasant memories, she did a quick search online and found a considerable amount of information on the detective. Apparently, he arrested a serial killer who had been hacking up hookers in the city.
He was about thirty years old, had been raised in a series of foster homes, and once on the force, he climbed quickly to the rank of detective. There was no mention of family, and he seemed married to his job.
However, another name in the article captured her attention—Pete Castro.
Pete was a newly turned vampire and currently worked as a sentry for the Presidium. The emperor appointed Pete to the position within a couple of months of being turned, and in true Emperor Zhao fashion, he didn’t explain why. He simply did it. Pete now reported to the Czar of New York, Augustus. He and his senators lorded over this district with the kind of decadent laziness that many ancient vampires succumbed to after centuries of existence.
Pete was the last vampire Olivia turned, and she only did it as a favor for her friend, Marianna. She may not have a beating heart, but Olivia wasn’t heartless. Marianna had finally found her life mate, and Olivia could not bear the idea of her friend suffering the same lonely existence that she had, so she turned Pete before he died. Marianna was an Amoveo, a shapeshifter, and having a vampire for a mate was a first for the shifters, but Marianna didn’t care. The implications their mating might have did not even cross her mind; she simply could not live without Pete.
Olivia let out a sigh and kept her gaze fixed on the black-and-white photo of Doug that glowed brightly on the screen. The serious, brooding eyes looked back with gut-wrenching familiarity.
Marianna could have lived without Pete—Olivia knew that better than anyone—but she did not have to.
According to this article, Pete was Doug’s former partner and helped him crack this case, among others. Olivia smirked at the interesting connection. She knew Pete had been a cop, but what were the odds that he was Doug’s former partner? She should be able to get the inside scoop on Doug from her latest progeny, a bright light in a quickly darkening situation.
A knock at her office door ripped her from her thoughts and had her abruptly closing the browser window on her computer. Van Helsing hopped to his feet and trotted to the door with his long tail wagging behind him.
It was Pete. Van loved Pete almost as much as he loved her. She sensed him immediately, as she would with any of her progeny, but Pete’s presence was stronger than the others due to his unusual heritage.
“Come in, Pete,” Olivia said as she sat back in the leather desk chair.
The door swung open, and to her surprise the entrance was empty, but seconds later, Pete’s smiling face peered around the corner. “Is it safe to come in?”
Van barked, which immediately elicited scratches behind the ears from Pete. Satisfied with the greeting, Van returned to his spot by Olivia’s feet.
“What are you talking about?” Olivia tried to sound blasé, but her frustration got the better of her.
Pete shook his head and shut the door.
“I heard your
meeting request.”
He leaned against the wall next to the door and removed his leather gloves, before stuffing them into the pockets of his long black leather coat. Dressed in the standard paramilitary sentry uniform, he cut an imposing figure as a human or a vampire. His weapons, an arsenal of guns, silver ninja stars, and knives, were hidden discreetly beneath his coat, yet remained easily accessible.
“I know I don’t live here. However, I am part of the coven, so I still heard you loud and clear. One benefit of being your progeny, correct? This special meeting wouldn’t have anything to do with that guy who turned up in a dumpster here in the Village, would it?”
“Shit.” Her green eyes flicked to Pete’s. “The Presidium already got wind of this?”
“Nope.” He shrugged. “Old habits die hard. I listen to the police scanner from time to time and keep an eye out for Doug. I saw him here earlier with his partner.”
Relief washed over her because she needed to get ahead of this mess. Ideally, she would squash it before they even heard about it, and at the very least, she needed more information in case they called her to task.
Olivia narrowed her eyes and wagged a scolding finger. “I can’t imagine that the czar would take kindly to you spending your time and energy looking after human affairs. I’m sure Augustus has far more important jobs for you to do in the district.”
“Like I give a crap,” Pete scoffed loudly. “They don’t own me, and I’ll look after whoever I want. If they don’t like it, they can kiss my vampire-demon ass. Besides, you’re my maker, and my mate’s best friend. As far as I’m concerned, your opinion is the only one that matters.” He grinned. “Boss lady.”
Olivia laughed at his ridiculous nickname for her and smiled with pride. She secretly adored the fact that he was a bit of a rebel because he threw off the Presidium’s pomp and circumstance, like she did when she was a sentry. Her maker, Vincent, never had the same appreciation for that kind of rebellious nature; instead, it served as a source of embarrassment for him.
“I knew I liked you.” Her brow knitted with concern. “How’s it going, by the way? Any other side effects from your demon lineage, or is daywalking the main consequence?”
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