Harcourte Vampyre Society 01 Dangerous Revelations

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Harcourte Vampyre Society 01 Dangerous Revelations Page 7

by Unknown


  “As you wish.”

  Moving into a sitting position, she couldn’t help but admire the man who sat in front of her. Jolie would truly be lost without him. Happiness began weaving its way throughout her body. For centuries, she was responsible for others, ever since her parents were killed, and now she was taking some well-deserved joy as her own.

  She decided to be daring.

  “May I sit on your lap?” Jolie needed to feel him touching her skin. She was drawn to him and craved that simple contact.

  “Of course you may. It would be my greatest pleasure,” he answered, holding out a hand as she moved into his body. It was hard not to sigh in contentment.

  Normally, she would feed by touch alone, drawing the energy through the aura and into her body, but not this time. Pulling his lips to hers, Jolie dove deeply into the kiss. The mix of tongue and teeth was enhanced by the energy shimmering around them.

  He had never fed her like this before, and Jacques was pretty sure that he never wanted to go back.

  This was amazing.

  Jacques energy flowed deliciously into her body. Jolie knew that she had to be very careful when feeding this way. If she stopped paying attention or got lost in the kiss, she could drain and kill him. It was when he released a long shudder, which ran through his tight body, that she reluctantly broke contact with him.

  “Are you well?” Jolie asked, checking his amazing eyes when they finally opened. She didn't think that she had overfed, but Jacques was a little out of it.

  Already, she could tell.

  “Mmmmm… yes, Jolie,” he murmured, his voice thick and heavy. He tried to move and climb out of bed but the feeding had left him lightheaded.

  “No,” she ordered, pushing him back down. “You’re not going anywhere, Jacques.” She put some coercion behind her voice.

  When he laid back and closed his eyes, she mentally called for Chloe. When Jolie found the girl, she summoned her to her quarters.

  “Jacques, one of our donors is on her way. You should feed well. After all, you’ve been very busy tonight,” she added. “I want you to rest here afterward. I’ll be home before dawn.”

  “Yes, my Mistress. I can’t wait for you to come back to bed. I’m not nearly tired enough.”

  When a donor was drained too much, there was a sense of euphoria and drunkenness. Jacques was high on energy buzz.

  “How can I refuse an offer like that?” Jolie inquired, running a tender caress down his well-muscled chest. Before hopping out of the bed, she pulled the silk sheet up to his waist to hide another effect of the feeding.

  Damn it!

  She didn't want to leave him.

  Forcing herself to focus, she prepared to get dressed. At the knock, Jolie grabbed a robe and slipped into it. On her way to the door, Jacques blew her a kiss, rolling to his side to pat the bed in welcome.

  It made her want to giggle.

  He was going to be mortified when he came out of the haze. Before seeing who was there, she could hear arguing outside, and she cursed at the interruption. Throwing it open, there stood Chloe, trying to get past Balzac. He had stationed himself outside the door, being a pain in the ass.

  As usual.

  “Yes Balzac? What can I do for you?”

  “I found the girl in the hallway heading toward your room, Mistress Jolie. That struck me as odd, since you go to death at night. I decided to accompany her to make sure that you were indeed safe.”

  “I called for her, Balzac,” she answered, motioning toward the donor. “He’s on my bed, Chloe. Please feed him. I think I took a little too much, and he is acting very un-Jacques-like.” She glanced back at Balzac, giving him a dirty look. “All is well, so you may go,” Jolie said, dismissing him.

  He stared past her, toward where Chloe was heading and when he saw Jacques, lying across the bed naked, he began sputtering like a boiling tea kettle. The look on his face at that moment, spoke volumes to what he thought of the situation.

  “Why is he bothering you?” he demanded.

  Jolie ignored his tone. “I received a call from the police detective, who I’m assisting, and Jacques had to wake and feed me. I was dead, and he used his energy so it needs to be replaced.”

  She watched Balzac’s face and the expressions which crossed it. She could tell what he was thinking without having to even touch his thoughts. He was not pleased to find Jacques in her bed. Balzac was always adamant that Jolie not become too close to the other male vampyres, especially Jacques. He gazed into her eyes, and Jolie could feel him trying to search her mind for the answers to his questions.

  “Nice try, Balzac, but you won’t find what you’re looking for in my head.”

  “Mistress, I worry, that’s all. I meant nothing by it. I feel that it’s my duty to watch over our primus. Certainly you’re aware that I only wish to protect you.”

  “I have a guardian who does fine providing for my…needs,” she added, emphasizing the final word and enjoying when he caught her meaning.

  “He’s your guardian! He shouldn’t be sharing your bed,” he replied haughtily. “If you insist on having him service your needs, instead of finding a human mate, then at least send him back to his quarters when you’re done with him. It’s undignified for the primus to carouse with someone beneath her status. There are boundaries. Keep it to just sex!”

  It was rather clear how the vampyre felt about Jacques. Jolie didn't miss the disgust in his voice or words. She was well aware that Balzac viewed guardians as disposable. It had been an argument that they had had for centuries. A week didn't go by where Balzac didn't want to get rid of Jacques, and Jolie refused. She trusted very few, and Jacques was the one who always had her back.

  If anything, she valued loyalty.

  “Really, Mistress! You need to stop slumming with the help.”

  A rage surged through her at his demeaning attitude. In her past, she wasn’t always the one who had led the family. She too had done her time and served.

  “Who is primus?” she asked, temper flaring and energy sizzling on her skin. It snapped around her, licking hungrily at Balzac’s body. “My relationship with Jacques is our business, and most certainly not any of yours.”

  “You’re the mistress,” said the blonde vampyre, as he bowed his head. “I’m sorry that I questioned you.” When he glanced up, his eyes met the guardian’s in a hostile message only the two men caught.

  This was what Jacques worried about.

  This animosity was bound to get him excommunicated.

  “Go now, Balzac. I must hurry and get ready for the police. The detective will be here shortly. I don’t want to keep him waiting, or have him see the circus that goes on here at night.” She closed the door on the vampyre with an angry slam.

  Immediately, she closed her eyes and felt the tension leave her body. It was as if someone drew it from her. It was then that she turned to watch as Jacques was feeding from Chloe. He chose to hold her hand, but his eyes never left Jolie’s face. When he was done, he released the girl and sent her from the room with a few words of gratitude.

  Even though they weren’t touching, his calm and peaceful energy wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

  “You should get dressed,” he suggested.

  Jolie went into her closet and began choosing clothing. She sensed him behind her and fought to not attack the man. Leaving wasn’t what she longed to do. Instead, she wanted to remain naked and climb all over him.

  Sue her. There was a sexy naked vampyre behind her.

  “Jacques, what do you wear to a crime scene?” she asked, only to turn and see him wrapped in his crimson silk robe. It only added to his paleness and made him that much more alluring. So much for changing the subject and not focusing on the obvious.

  “I thought I lost this robe,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “I placed it here,” Jolie admitted, trying to hide the obvious reason. It smelled like his cologne, and Jolie was prone to wearing it when she
was lonely.

  He accepted that answer joyfully, because it gave him hope. What he refused to admit was that he had a drawer full of her things in his own room.

  Heading further into the closet to help her, he pushed through her racks and racks of clothes until he found a pair of leather pants and a black pullover. “This should do, not to mention it’ll be helpful if you’re caught outside past dawn.”

  “Merci,” she replied, touched by his thorough nature. The long sleeves would keep her safe after dawn.

  Jacques reached down and grabbed a pair of black ankle length boots. “These will also do.”

  She crossed to him to place her arms around his waist in a hug. “What would I do without you to get me through the unpleasantries in my life, Jacques?”

  “You would probably wear white to a crime scene.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “You cracked a joke.”

  The look on her face was priceless. It was so precious to him, that he couldn’t help but laugh. “I believe I’ve teased you plenty of times, Jolie.”

  The sound of his happiness was so sweet to her ears. Jolie couldn’t remember when the last time was that she heard him laugh so freely. It melted her heart further and made her want to keep him by her side more than anything.

  “Yes, you have, but I do believe that laugh was a long time coming, Jacques.”

  His only response was to lift a brow in thought. “Let me leave you to dress,” he said, as he pulled away from her embrace.

  “Please stay and keep me company?” she asked, pulling on a pair of black panties that he handed her. When he continued to riffle through her underwear drawer for a suitable matching brazier, she couldn’t help but grin.

  There was something about a ferocious killer searching for something so delicate. It showed the two sides of the man before her.

  “Here, Mistress,” Jacques offered, holding out a tantalizing black lace bra in his large, pale hands.

  It caused a delicious shiver to roll through her body. When their eyes met, she accepted it, hoping she wasn’t the only one affected by their close quarters.

  Jolie needed to hurry and get dressed. As much as she would love to stay in that confined space with him, there was a job to do.

  “Thank you,” she said, sliding her long legs into the pants. When she stood up, he knelt before her to snuggly lace up the leather.

  It made her heart pound.

  Jacques handed her the cashmere pullover after she finished putting on the revealing brazier. She started braiding her hair to keep it pulled back.

  “How do I look?” she asked, spinning in a circle. “Will I blend in with the humans?”

  “I doubt that, since you’re far more lovely, Mistress.”

  Irritation built. “Jacques. Please not ‘mistress’, especially when we’re alone. It makes me feel like you’re only nice to me because it’s your duty.”

  “Never!” he objected, adamantly. “How could I not want to be nice to you? I don’t understand that, Jolie. It’s my pleasure to be near and kind to you.”

  She walked to him and went into his arms. “Then please call me Jolie when we’re alone. If you feel you must address me as mistress in front of the others, so be it, but not when it is just us.”

  It gave him hope deep inside his body.

  He brushed a hand down her cheek. “I understand, Jolie.”

  She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him thoroughly, rubbing her cashmere covered body against his silk covered length. A growl escaped from deep in his chest, and she pulled away smiling like a fool.

  “If you’ll kiss me like that every time I call you by your name, I just might be convinced to stop calling you mistress all together,” he teased in return.

  “Another joke? You honor me.” Jolie caressed his face, preparing to say more. Unfortunately, they both sensed him at the same time.

  They had company.

  “Your detective is here,” he said, grabbing a black jacket for her.

  On the way out of her room, he also picked up her phone and her sunglasses from her dresser. She might need them if she got caught out in the sunlight.

  Walking through the house, Jolie sent out a silent warning to the society. Granted, they were most likely already hiding, and on alert. If they sensed the stranger or picked up that he was a cop, they would vanish to get away. Despite that, she gave them her instructions.

  Jolie was at the door before the detective could knock. She had it open as he lifted his hand. It was obvious that she had caught him off guard.

  “Detective,” she smiled sweetly.

  “Doctor Harcourte.” He tried not to stare at her, but it wasn’t easy when she was wearing leather. “I see that you’re ready for me.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Brogan didn’t miss when a large man came up behind her and held out her phone and sunglasses. He watched as Jolie took them and gave his hand an intimate squeeze.

  Now, his interest was piqued. The man was a little taller and incredibly pale. He almost wanted to tell him to get a tan.

  It was all that he could think of at the moment.

  Brogan was irritated further when they moved together like a well-orchestrated ballet. The man helped her into her jacket and whispered something in French in her ear.

  Yeah, he didn't like him already.

  He took it all in and made a mental note to try and figure out what bothered him about the idea of the doctor with the man behind her. Maybe it was that he looked like an underwear model, and that he was wearing a red silk robe.

  Seriously?

  Finally, he couldn’t keep it to himself. “We better get going. I’m sure the underwear model can keep himself busy until you return.”

  Jolie wanted to laugh.

  The man behind her could be a model. He was that damn delicious. Heat rushed back into her body from the memories of their earlier encounter. She felt a familiar wisp touch her mind and she opened for him.

  “Be careful, Jolie. I don’t exactly like the look on his face. I’m afraid that he won’t trust us if he finds out about our kind on his own.”

  “I’ll be safe, mon amour. Go rest, and I’ll contact you later.”

  The words heated his body. He cherished when she called him her love. “If you need me to come for you, just call.”

  “I will,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder and blowing him a kiss as she headed out. “Miss me.”

  Jacques didn't reply. How could he not? Whenever Jolie went somewhere without him, there was worry and longing left in her place.

  Leaving the safety of her house, Jolie followed the detective to the vehicle that was waiting for them in the driveway. “Nice car, Detective,” she said, as she easily moved across the leather interior of the red Mustang.

  He watched her glide into the seat. It wasn’t everybody who could be graceful when leather was sliding across leather. She moved like a breeze and with very little effort. Try as he might, he was suddenly wondering if everything she did was as sensual and graceful. He forced himself to pull his thoughts from that direction, because traveling down that route was a bad idea.

  He had a new rule about dating or sleeping with cops. It all came about from him falling into a bad relationship with a fellow detective. Granted, Jolie wasn’t a cop, but she worked with them, and that was close enough.

  Or so he kept trying to tell himself.

  Then again, if she invited herself back to his place, he wouldn’t say no. In fact, he’d skip the crime scene and drive her there right now.

  “Thank you, Doctor. I could say the same about your car,” he said, as he turned the key and the Mustang purred to life.

  “Oh, yes! I do like my Jag. It’s my big luxury,” she said, and then opted to change the subject to the murder. “Tell me about the new victim.”

  “It was the same as the others. A body was found and there was no blood on the scene. Again, everyone is a little befuddled at how that could happen. The victim was laid o
ut in the same pose, fully clothed, and eyes open.”

  “Hmmm…” she said, and paused before continuing. “Are there the same tracks as before? Footprints?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you get tense when we talk about this part of the murders?”

  She caught him off guard.

  “I don’t.”

  Damn it! She was either really good at her job, or a freaking mind reader.

  “Really? Well then, I’m afraid I can’t be of any help to you, Detective. You might as well take me back to my home. If you can’t trust me, a trained professional, then we aren’t going to be able to solve this together. I could be asleep in my very warm bed. I was very comfortable before you called and woke me up.”

  He sighed, knowing that she had a very valid point. “I have a problem with the premise that the killers are women. It has nothing to do with you, or the fact that my boss is forcing me to work with you, okay?”

  “Why then? You can trust me.”

  Where to even begin with this? “Maybe it’s because they’re the fairer sex and the sweet, innocent ones in life. The criminal elements are usually men, because they’re meaner, more vicious, and harder. That’s something that I expect and am more comfortable dealing with.”

  Jolie wanted to laugh. If he only knew what her existence was like, and how many lives she had been forced to take over the years to protect her society.

  Women not killers?

  That was just entertaining.

  “Do you know how sexist that sounds, Detective?”

  “I’m very aware of it and thus the reason I kept it to myself, but you wanted the truth. There it is. No pretty wrapper, just plain, ugly, biased truth.”

  It was obvious what kind of human Flynn Brogan was in life. Not only was he a cop, but he was a man’s man. If he saw women as fragile creatures, then he had been raised to be respectful. That made her smile.

  “Thank you for trusting me with it,” she answered, glancing over at him in the dark confines of his car. When he stared straight ahead, his knuckles white, she took it one step further and placed her hand on his arm. “Trust me, Flynn. I have seen some women who have gone beyond the atrocities of men, but I appreciate your opinion.”

 

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