“Yes, at least that’s what we suspect. Both spent some portion of their last night alive here.” He took the picture back and noted she was careful not to let their hands touch again. “You recognize her, don’t you?”
Olivia nodded. “She was here with Michael Moriarty and his little gang of thugs. He said something to upset her, and she ran out in a huff.”
“Did he follow her?”
“Hardly.” Olivia let out a short laugh. “I doubt if he even knew her name. The guy has always got one girl or another hanging on his arm.” She lifted one shoulder. “No accounting for taste, I suppose.”
“Where did they find her?”
“Not far from here.” He put the picture away quickly and noticed the subtle change in her demeanor. “Washington Square Park.”
He could tell she was unnerved by seeing the picture of Brittany, though he resisted the sudden and ridiculous urge to scoop her up in his arms and comfort her. Doug cleared his throat and straightened his back, wrestling to hang onto his waning professionalism.
“We need to speak with your staff, and I need to show her picture around the club. I realize you may not be happy about that, but—”
“Not a problem,” Olivia said with a curt nod. “You’ll have our full cooperation, of course.” She cast a loving look at Van and the kitten, curled around each other and sleeping contentedly. “Too bad someone wasn’t around to rescue Brittany,” she said, her voice edged with sadness and a twinge of anger.
“We’re going to find whoever did this.”
“I can promise you one thing, detective,” Olivia said as she turned her eyes to his. “If someone in my club was responsible, I will do everything within my power to assist you.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said as he put the notebook away and looked casually around the small office.
He noted the lack of personal photographs. The only pictures she had were of her dog and one large print of a sunrise over the mountains. Clearly not married and no boyfriend. Good. The very idea of it made him want to kick some serious ass. It wasn’t dignified to feel jealous over a woman he just met, but that didn’t make it any less true.
He turned to go, his hand lingering on the doorknob but not turning it. Mustering up his courage, he finally asked the question he had been dying to ask all night.
“So,” he asked without turning around. “Is there any chance of you taking me up on my offer?”
He dropped his hand from the knob, silence stretching between them as if condemning him. Doug swore under his breath, turned around intending to offer an apology, and found Olivia standing inches from him. He hadn’t heard the chair move or squeak, giving away her movements, yet here she was, just a breath away.
“What did you say?” Her brow furrowed, and she looked at him with wonder.
She was tall, and in those towering heels, only a few inches shorter than he was. Her skin was exquisite, void of a single line or freckle, which gave the impression of someone quite young, but based on her records, she was in her early thirties and had owned this place for the past ten years. Truthfully, she had the air of an older person, and that made her a walking contradiction.
“Dinner, remember?” he asked in a barely audible tone. His lips lifted as his eyes met hers. “Mexican. Chinese. Burgers. Hell, anything you want.”
“I remember, detective… I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“There are some offers a man just can’t forget, Olivia.” His eyes drifted over the soft angles of her face, and he hardened with need. “You are inescapable, and I can’t help myself when I’m around you. At the very least, I want to get to know you better, and I’d like to do it outside of these unpleasant events.”
“I—I really didn’t think you’d remember,” she whispered.
Her sparkling green eyes stayed locked on his, and her body wavered dangerously close, as if begging to be touched. He should have stepped back and allowed her to pass, or she should have asked him to move, but neither happened.
Instead they stood there, hovering over a dangerous place. Doug swallowed hard as blood rushed from his brain directly to his cock. His mouth watered as the scent of cinnamon filled his head and danced over his tongue.
“It would take me an eternity to forget you,” he said in reverent tones.
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, as if in invitation, which was all the encouragement Doug needed. In a split second his mouth was on hers, and his fingers tangled in those long, red curls as they had so many times in his dreams. His head fogged with desire as her sweet tongue tangled with his, and reason left him, but there was one thing he was sure of—that kiss in the alley had been real.
He would never forget the taste of her.
Her arms slid around his neck as he backed her against the wall and pinned her there. He delved deeply into the cavern of her mouth and groaned as she kissed him back with equal fervor. She wrapped one long leg around his, pressing herself harder against his growing erection. Her small breasts crushed against his chest, and he braced both hands on the wall on either side of her, not trusting himself, afraid he might rip her clothes off and bury himself deep.
Nothing made sense. None of it. But he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting more and getting closer. She licked and nibbled at his lips as she grabbed his hair and kissed him back aggressively—which was a major turn-on. He loved a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go for it.
A moment later, she tugged his head away abruptly, breaking the kiss, but her body remained pinned between him and the wall. He rested his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut.
Damn it all to hell. What was he doing?
Doug shoved himself away from the wall and the feel of her body.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he grasped for some shred of reality. “I’m not sure what just happened.”
Olivia was stone cold. She didn’t move, but her green eyes, only moments ago filled with lust, were now hard and unemotional. She straightened her jacket and smoothed her soft red curls as she brushed past him to the door.
“I think we’re about finished here, detective. I have to refuse your dinner invitation.” Olivia tugged the door open. Pounding music filled the small space, which only moments ago had been thick with the unmistakable rumble of passion. “You are welcome to speak with any of the club patrons, as well as my staff. I have business to attend to, but you know where to find me if you need me.”
She arched one amber eyebrow as she held the door open and motioned for him to leave. The music spilled into the office, instantly drowning out their intimate moment. Doug eyed her carefully and let out the breath he’d been holding. He barely noticed that the dog was once again standing guard at her feet.
“I’m sure you won’t interview my customers the same way you interviewed me?” she asked in a low, seductive tone as he stepped through the open door. “I can’t imagine behavior like that would be good for the image of the NYPD.”
He turned to answer her just as the door slammed shut in his face.
“Not likely,” Doug muttered under his breath.
He ran his hands over his face and swore silently at his lack of self-control and loss of professionalism. Never in his life did he have personal contact with a witness on a case, and here he was making out like a horny kid in the back office of a nightclub with a broad who could, quite possibly, be involved in the murders.
However, as he cut through the sweaty crowd and made his way to Tom, who was interviewing the waitress by the VIP booths, he knew it was only the beginning. Things were going to get weirder. Doug got to the bar and looked back at the closed door of the office. That kiss in the alley was real, and she was in his dreams.
The taste of her still lingered on his lips. If he was taking a trip on the crazy train, then riding it with Olivia had to be the best fuckin’ way to go.
Chapter 6
Olivia leaned against the door as her fangs broke free, and she let out a
sound that fell somewhere between a growl and a groan. How could she be so irresponsible? What in the hell was wrong with her? First, she lets him kiss her. Kiss her? Hell, he jumped her bones—and she loved every second.
She made out with him like the lust-starved woman she was, and kissing him almost made her orgasm.
“Shit.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she ran her tongue along her smooth fangs as the taste of him lingered, a vivid reminder of the brief tussle they’d shared. The office looked the same as it had ten minutes ago, but everything else had changed, and she was allowing it to happen like some silly youngling vampire.
She had to stop this nonsense. She would not pull Doug into the vampire world, no matter how much she wanted him. It simply would not be fair. Hell, she had gone three hundred years without sex and survived. Olivia could not allow this to continue. The only fair choice would be to glamour Doug and make him forget everything.
Tonight, after they hunted for the rogue, she would find Doug and glamour him face to face. Attempting to do it in the dreamscape was a chickenshit way out, and it obviously didn’t work. Shortcuts never work, and if she had not been all fucked up on a high of knee-bending lust, she would have thought to erase his memory while he was here in her office.
What if glamouring him in person didn’t work either?
Olivia’s fangs retracted, and she smoothed the front of her jacket as she made the deal with herself. It would work. It had to work. She would make him forget all of it, and she would live the rest of her existence… alone.
“What a mess.” She sighed and was met with a soft meow.
“Hey,” she said with a faint smile as she scooped up her latest charge. “You sure did pick a hell of a time to join this crazy coven.” She kissed the top of its black and white head as it continued to meow. “I know. I have more important problems than my own drama, don’t I?”
Van Helsing barked and sat at her feet with an accusing look.
“I know, I know.” She reached down and patted his head. “You try running this coven sometime, mister.”
On top of her personal drama, she still had the rogue vampire nonsense to deal with, which had only gotten worse. Moriarty’s date from the other night was dead, and she’d bet the same rogue was to blame.
“No more dicking around.”
Olivia closed her eyes and reached out to Pete. The rogue took out another victim. Doug and his partner were here again asking questions. The girl they found was here with Moriarty last night and had the club’s stamp on her hand. See if you can get a look at the body, and get a DNA sample to Millicent ASAP. Glamour whomever you have to—but get those samples—I want confirmation that it’s the same rogue that took out Ronald Davis. This psycho is messing with my business, and it’s really pissing me off.
Consider it done, Pete replied.
Both were killed in the village so the rogue vamp that did this is likely hanging around here. I want to find this asshole before it slaughters anyone else.
Van Helsing yipped at her feet and wagged his tail happily as he tried to sniff at his new friend again.
“Yes.” Olivia sighed and ruffled him behind his ears. “We’re going downstairs. Come on, boy. We’ll get Oreo settled in the apartment.”
Olivia needed to eat and had to change her clothes. Donna Karan was great for her civilian life but not for the bloody shit she would likely participate in tonight. Olivia went to the back wall of her office and pressed the button behind the sunset painting. A moment later, half of the wall slid open, revealing the passage to the apartments beneath the club. She and Van stepped through the threshold, and as soon as the door slid shut, the motion-sensitive lights came on and lit the stone stairwell down to her home.
At the bottom of the staircase was the front hall of their underground apartment complex. The simple, soft white lights were spaced evenly around the circular entry hall, creating a surprisingly warm entryway. Olivia caught sight of her reflection in the gilded mirror that hung above the black lacquer table but didn’t linger on it. Seeing her reflection was a blatant reminder that she was frozen in time while the rest of the world wasn’t.
Olivia’s apartment door was farthest to the left, and the other three led to Trixie, Maya, and Sadie’s apartments. The black lacquered apartment doors were identical, but the spaces inside were as different as the girls themselves. Olivia hadn’t been in Maya or Trixie’s places lately, and it was probably better that way. Trixie was a slob and had clothing hanging from every piece of furniture, and Maya’s place was bathed in bubble-gum pink. Both apartments made her dizzy.
Olivia turned the brass knob and swung her apartment door open, and Van ran past before she could get in. He raced across the dark wood floors and skidded around the black leather couch as he headed directly for his food dish in the kitchen.
“Hungry, buddy?” Olivia asked as she shut the door.
The enormous German shepherd picked up the blue bowl in his mouth and looked at her through big brown eyes.
“I guess so,” she said with a laugh.
Olivia placed Oreo on the floor and watched as the kitten investigated the kitchen, while she took the bowl from Van and tugged open the tall white kitchen cabinet. She made quick work of getting dinner for Van, pouring a bowl of milk for Oreo, and whipping up a large mug of blood for herself. She leaned against the edge of the marble countertop and surveyed the space as she waited for the microwave to do its job.
It looked like any other apartment in Manhattan, except for the noticeable lack of windows. She didn’t need a kitchen, but she liked having one because she enjoyed cooking for Marianna or Damien from time to time. Her fridge was bare except for pints of blood and some milk and leftover lasagna from having Damien over for dinner last Sunday.
The microwave dinged loudly, announcing the job was complete. Olivia snagged her mug and took a sip. The warm liquid coated her throat and instantly warmed her body. She chugged back the rest and quickly washed the mug before heading back to her bedroom to get ready. She knew better than anyone that she would need all of her wits about her when hunting the rogue.
Olivia passed the guest bedroom and hall bathroom, noting she still hadn’t picked that room up since Pete and Marianna stayed with her a few months ago.
Olivia swung open the double doors to the master bedroom and let out a contented sigh. She loved her bedroom. The walls were painted the lightest shade of blue that she could find and reminded her of a summer sky. The king-size bed with the black leather headboard took up much of the room, but it was the softest bed on the planet, and it sure beat the hell out of a coffin. The apple-green comforter looked ridiculously welcoming, especially since she hadn’t gotten a full day’s sleep. However, she resisted the urge to dive on the bed and headed for her closet.
The only thing Olivia adored more than her bedroom was her closet. She wasn’t exactly a clotheshorse, but there was no denying a hot pair of high heels or a well-fitting suit made her feel powerful, in control, and sexy.
She promptly stripped down to her white bra and lace thong. She draped her suit over the hamper and put her Louboutins on the one empty space of the shoe rack, which was really more of a shoe wall. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t a clotheshorse but could probably be accused of hoarding shoes.
Van Helsing trotted into the room with the kitten behind him desperately trying to capture his tail. Olivia smiled when she saw that the milk had perked the little girl up. Van barked and hopped onto the tufted bench at the foot of her bed. The minute he got up there, Oreo started mewling to join him.
“Conspiring against me already?” she said through a laugh.
Olivia hoisted the kitten and placed her next to Van. She promptly did three circles in a row before curling up next to her new protector. Van made a satisfied snuffling noise before placing his head on his front paws and watching Olivia’s every move.
“I knew you were a sucker.” She arched an eyebrow and wagged a well-manicured finger in his di
rection. “See. You’re really a cat in dog’s clothing, aren’t you?”
The dog licked his lips and growled. Olivia shook her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you just rolled your eyes at me.”
Olivia strode to the stainless steel door at the center the far wall and hit the red button on the panel to the left. A gentle whirring sound filled the room as the door slid into the wall and revealed her other closet. She didn’t want to go back to being a sentry, but that didn’t mean she would leave herself or her coven unprotected. An armed vampire was a smart vampire… and one less likely to get dusted.
“I swore I wouldn’t do it again,” she said quietly.
Olivia breathed deeply as she stepped into the dark cavernous space, and her nostrils filled with the musky scent of leather and the pungent smell of silver as lights flickered on overhead. Memories of her days as a sentry flooded her with surprising clarity. Instead of allowing them to weaken her, she struggled to remember the strength, pride, and power she felt when she first worked for the Presidium.
The left wall was covered with ninja stars, knives, swords, chains, and small, easily concealed weapons. All the weapons were made with sterling silver and could cut through a vampire with laser precision. Simply getting scraped by silver burned like hell, but getting cut by it could kill, especially if it got into the bloodstream.
The right side was filled with guns of various sizes, but instead of a shoe rack, she had an ammo rack that ran floor to ceiling. She hated to admit it, but the ammo wall turned her on, even more than the shoe wall.
Along the back of the closet, opposite the entrance, hung various versions of her sentry uniform. Olivia pulled on the stretch leather catsuit and zipped it with ease. It molded to her body like a second skin, and she couldn’t believe how comfortable it felt after all these years. Not only would it provide camouflage in the dark of night, it would also provide protection from the silver weapons she carried.
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