The Prescient: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 3)

by JC Andrijeski

  Feeling another pulse of pain leave her, he met her gaze, his jaw hardening when he saw how bright her eyes were.

  “But I don’t believe it, Wynter. I really don’t. I never have, and I definitely don’t now. Not now that I know you’ve been experiencing the same damned things I have.”

  Thinking about his own words, he realized they were true.

  More than that, the futility returned, washing over him, making him feel sick.

  Not just sick. Trapped.

  He felt like an animal in a snare.

  She smacked him again, hard, in the chest.

  “You think I don’t know that, Nick? You think I can’t feel it, whenever you get sick at the thought of having to be stuck with me?” She hit him again. “You are the Worst. Mate. Ever.”

  She smacked him in the chest with each of the three words.

  Frustration colored her voice.

  “If I could sever us, I would. I fucking would, Nick… in a heartbeat. But I can’t. It doesn’t work that way. Don’t you get that yet? So stop blaming me. It’s a waste of goddamned time. For both of us—”

  He caught her wrist before she could hit him again.

  Then his mouth found hers, and he was kissing her, using his weight to press her into the floor. Her body remained tense for the first few seconds, that fight and anger and hurt coming off her like a thick scent, clouding his mind entirely.

  Then he nipped her lips with his fangs.

  She sucked in a breath.

  She pulled back, staring up at him.

  That pain in his chest grew blinding as he saw her react. He felt her chest heave, watched her eyes widen as she looked up at him, her blue-green eyes lit from within, as if they each carried a small, sharp light.

  “Can I?” His voice was gruff.

  She blinked.

  Then she scowled, staring up at him in disbelief.

  “Can you?” she said. “Are you fucking serious right now, Nick? You are unbelievable… do you know that? You really are the most emotionally stunted, immature, cowardly—”

  “I know,” he growled. “I know all that, Wynter. I heard you. I’m the worst. I’m the fucking worst mate ever. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me… I really am. But there isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it… or about me… and apparently there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it, either. I’m sorry for that. I am. But fuck this… can I?”

  When she continued to glare at him in disbelief, he lowered his head, nipping at her throat that time, feeling her jump, even as a plume of heat left her. The pain in his chest worsened without warning, making him gasp.

  That time, he licked enough of her blood off one fang that he groaned, instantly so hard he couldn’t think straight.

  He pressed against her, coiling his hand into her hair.

  “Maybe it’ll keep us from killing each other,” he said, lower, gruffer, into her ear. “Maybe it’ll keep you from killing me, at least—”

  “You’re a piece of shit—” she said, tears back in her voice.

  “I know.”

  That time, he didn’t wait.

  He lowered his mouth…

  And sank his fangs all the way into her throat.

  He groaned as he swallowed the first mouthful… then another… his whole body growing heavy on hers as he drank.

  He found himself yanking at her clothes without taking his mouth off her throat, rearranging fabric with an urgency that scared him. He slid his fingers inside her and she groaned, bucking up against him, and he groaned with her.

  God. She was wet.

  She was so fucking wet.

  She let out a disbelieving gasp…

  And then Nick could hear her for real.

  He could feel her for real.

  Shock slid through him, as her thoughts grew loud in his mind, her emotions washing over him through the venom and blood, until he was groaning for real, pulling his mouth off her long enough to yank his shirt over his head, then to more or less tear the dress off her. He was trying to do the same to her underwear when she sat up, trying to help him—

  He only had patience for that for a few seconds.

  Then he got her bra off her too, ripping off the last of those panties she hadn’t worn for him, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

  She cried out…

  Then he could hear her again.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… why does it have to feel so goddamned good? Why does it always have to be like this with him? The kissing, his cock, the way he fucks… now the way he bites. And he’s just going to do this and then find some reason again tomorrow. Whatever he says tonight, he’ll leave you again, Wynter.

  Her pain worsened.

  It blinded him, making him gasp.

  Don’t kid yourself. He’ll leave. Don’t let yourself believe it this time. He’ll leave. He’ll do it again. He’ll fucking leave. And then he’ll do it all over again.

  It’s only going to keep getting worse…

  He listened to her try to convince herself not to care.

  He listened to her try to convince herself not to expect anything from him.

  He couldn’t find the words to argue with her.

  He couldn’t even decide if she was wrong.

  For now, he didn’t care.

  He didn’t care about any of it.

  He just wanted to give her what she wanted.

  He wanted to stop the screaming, writhing pain in his head and chest. He wanted to stop it in her. He wanted to soothe that anger, that confusion, those waking dreams, the nausea, that never-ending headfuck hangover that made him hate everything, whenever he was apart from her… even if it was only for a few hours.

  He wanted to end it. He wanted to end all of it.

  For a short time at least, he wanted to give both of them what they wanted.

  It was all he could handle.

  It was the only thing he could make himself care about.

  Chapter 10

  In Trouble

  The buzzing from his nightstand didn’t wake him right off.

  The fact that it had to wake him at all didn’t even strike him as strange, not at first.

  Vampires don’t sleep.

  It was an oft-repeated phrase, even if it wasn’t entirely true.

  They did sleep… sometimes.

  It was unusual, though.

  Vampires didn’t sleep like humans did, or seers. They didn’t fall unconscious for a specified time every night. They didn’t need sleep the way a human did, or the way most animals did, not most of the time.

  But they could sleep… and did, every now and then.

  Still, it was unusual enough that Nick got really damned confused when he woke up from one of those vampire naps.

  He found himself wrapped in warm skin and blankets, entangled in a beating heart, beating veins that got him instantly hard, even as his fangs extended in his mouth, making him groan as he rolled over, looking for the sound that was still insistently, annoyingly clamoring for his attention.

  He eventually got an arm and hand free enough that he scooped the headset off the low, faux-marble table, hooking it clumsily—for a vampire, at least—over his ear and using his mind to click it on.

  “Hello?” he said, blinking to clear his vision.

  The room righted around him, even as he got a headrush.

  He grew aware of Wynter again as she wrapped an arm around his waist, everything in her asking him to come back, to close his eyes, rejoin her as she slept.

  “Midnight,” Nick said then, remembering who he was, which alarm tone this was. “Midnight. Who is this?”

  The pause on the other end felt too long.

  The pause had definitely gone on too long.

  “Who is this?” he repeated. He checked the ID then, thinking of it only then. He was surprised when he found he recognized it. “Jordan? Jordan! Are you there?”

  “Jesus, man.” The other cop’s voice rose, openly incredulous. “Are you drunk?”

&n
bsp; “What?” Nick rubbed his eyes, shifting to his back, and Wynter groaned a low complaint to him, wrapping her arm around him tighter. “No. I’m not fucking drunk. What is it? What do you want?”

  “It’s five o’clock, Tanaka,” the other man said, that disbelief still coloring his voice. “Were you asleep? Like… actually asleep?”

  Nick frowned.

  He slumped back to the bed, rubbing his forehead with a hand.

  As soon as he was horizontal again, Wynter curled around him, resting her head on his chest as she began massaging his cock, making that pain rise back to his gut, wiping out any attempt he might have made to think.

  “Fuck,” Nick said.

  It came out a half-groan.

  Remembering he was on the line, he slid his fingers into her hair, gripping tightly and fighting to concentrate as she continued to massage him.

  “Do I need to be somewhere?” he managed finally to Jordan.

  “Yeah… like, work, man. Didn’t you get my message?”

  Nick frowned, glancing around the virtual space projected by his headset. Seeing his message queue blinking, not with one, but with seven messages, he scowled.

  “No,” he admitted finally.

  His fangs extended painfully when Wynter slid down him, running a hot tongue over and curling around the end of his cock.

  That time, conscious of Jordan, he gritted his teeth to remain silent.

  “Where?” he said. “Where do I need to be?”

  “Straven’s place,” Damon said. “He’s sitting right in front of me.”

  There was a pause… then a pale light began to blink in the corner of Nick’s awareness, showing that the human had switched to private, and to sub-vocals. When Jordan next spoke, he sounded somewhere between disturbed and disgusted.

  “Jesus, man. Do I even want to know what you’re doing right now?”

  “What do you mean?” Nick barked, his voice suddenly hard. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

  “It sounds like you’re…” Damon trailed, and Nick could almost see him shake his head. “Never mind. Just get your ass over here, okay? Straven wants you. He’s made it clear he won’t talk to the rest of us unless you’re here. He asked for Wynter, too… Ms. James. He specifically asked you to bring her—”

  “No,” Nick cut in, his voice a growl. “Absolutely not.”

  There was a silence.

  Then Jordan exhaled audibly, and again, Nick could almost see him shake it off, deliberately not letting himself ask.

  “Just get here, Tanaka,” the other detective said. “Now. We’re waiting on you.”

  Nick nodded, staring up at the dim ceiling of his bedroom.

  The other detective clicked off.

  A few seconds may have passed, maybe a few minutes, before Nick noticed. Then again, Wynter was making it really damned hard to think about much of anything.

  He let his weight sink into the mattress, closing his eyes as he focused back on her, on her mouth, on what she was doing to him with her mouth. He fell into her, into what she was doing, and… for a long-feeling few seconds… he forgot where he was again.

  She let him build, then slowed him down when he got too close.

  She did that a few times.

  His fingers gripped her hair.

  He grew aware of how tired she felt. She was too tired…

  I’m fine, she assured him. I’m fine, baby. It’s okay…

  No. He shook his head. It’s not okay. I took too much. You need to eat. You need to eat, and I need to go somewhere…

  He fought to remember where, what he was supposed to be doing right then.

  His mind blanked. He remembered a call. Someone called.

  He stared into the dark space of his virtual headset, remembering only then that he was wearing it.

  He saw the message queue light blinking in the corner.

  They’d call back.

  Whoever it was, they’d call back.

  He had a vaguely sick feeling in his gut, like when he was a kid, and knew he was in trouble. Anxiety gnawed at him. He was in trouble.

  He’d done something wrong.

  …I need to go somewhere, he repeated stubbornly. And you need to eat. And sleep. Without me, Wynter. Without me here. We’re both useless with me here. I’ll order you food. I’ll order food for you, then go. Or maybe go, then order food…

  He felt her resistance to that idea.

  She really didn’t like that idea.

  She immediately tried to distract him from that idea.

  He groaned, losing his train of thought when she took all of him into her mouth, sucking and pulling harder, with her light, her tongue…

  That pain spiked in his chest, seeming to connect straight to his cock. The combination of her, her light, the blood connection, what she was doing to him… it all brought an unbearable pleasure-pain too intense for him to be able to distinguish the sensations. He had no breath, but his chest clenched as he fought to control it…

  Then he lost that, too.

  “Fuck,” he said.

  He said it loud.

  He might have yelled it.

  She didn’t stop.

  His fingers clenched in her hair as he fought to control it again.

  He was coming then, groaning and jerking against her as that wave crested, as the sensation grew so intense he couldn’t think at all.

  His headset started buzzing again.

  Nick froze.

  Wynter was kissing his abdomen, her dark hair trailing over his skin. He shivered, looking down at her. When the buzzing repeated, he jumped, staring at the blinking light. He recognized the call sign.

  Then it came back. He remembered.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “I have to go.”

  Wynter raised her head.

  Meeting his gaze, her eyes seemed to glow even brighter with that inner light. He stared at them, blinking, feeling that pain worsening in his chest. It occurred to him again that none of his questions had really been answered… not about any of this. All he could do was react, like a mindless animal. Worse, he increasingly struggled to try and make himself care enough to do something about it.

  But he had to go.

  He really had to go. He had to order her food.

  Feeling her reluctance spike, he forced himself to slide back, away from her.

  He leapt out of his bed, before she could touch him again… before he forgot what he was doing and decided he needed to touch her… or worse, feed on her again…

  He groaned, thinking about it—

  Right as he crashed into the wall.

  His balance was completely off. He got up so fast, tried to get away from her so fast, tried to remove himself from her so fast… he lost control of his own speed.

  When he looked up from the floor, squinting from the pain blooming in his head, Wynter was hanging over the edge of the bed, peering down at him.

  Seeing him there, a scowl on his face, she burst out in a laugh.

  “Did you just run into your own wall?” she said.

  Her voice sounded unnaturally loud.

  He realized it was because he couldn’t remember when she’d last spoken aloud. He had. He’s spoken out loud, but Wynter… not so much.

  “Maybe,” he growled, rubbing the back of his head.

  She grinned, still hanging over the edge of the bed.

  She looked so fucking adorable, he forced himself to look away, closing his eyes.

  “Shower,” he growled next. “Shower…”

  “Can I come?”

  “No!” The word burst out of him. He looked up at her, alarmed by his own vehemence, but also worried she’d argue with him, or simply not listen to him.

  Instead, she grinned at him wider, laughing when she saw the look on his face.

  “You look so cute right now,” she informed him.

  “No. No, I don’t.”

  “Yes. You do. Hate to break it to you.”

  He clenched his jaw. He
wanted to climb back up on the bed. He wanted to pin her down and fuck her again, smack her ass for laughing at him.

  She laughed again, hearing him.

  “Shower,” he muttered. “Shower…” He repeated it like a mantra. Unsure if he should risk trying to get up, unsure if he could regulate his speed, much less his balance, he began crawling over his floor towards the bathroom.

  “Don’t follow me!” he growled as he crawled. “I mean it! Wynter! Stay!”

  “Aye-aye, Captain,” she said.

  “I mean it, Wynter!”

  She laughed, but he felt her agree, so some part of him relaxed.

  He heard her flop onto her back on the comforter, still giggling, and clenched his jaw again, wanting nothing more than to punish her for that.

  His mind started going there again, thinking of ways he would do that, trying to decide ways that he hadn’t done it to her yet in the last however-many hours. His mind started supplying visuals then, and he fought to push them out of his awareness, but not before his fangs extended painfully again, his cock hardening as he crawled.

  His hands found the frame of the bathroom door.

  He leapt to his feet, realizing it was closed, that he needed the handle, and crashed into that too. That time, he hit into it hard enough… attacked it really, slamming his shoulder into it with most of his strength… that he broke the latch, and fell through the opening.

  Behind him, Wynter burst out in another laugh.

  Nick blinked from where his hands caught him on the tile counter. It was dark, but he didn’t dare turn on the light.

  He managed to make his way to the shower, and after staring at the control panel for another long-feeling stretch of time, he managed to remember enough to punch something into those controls. When the water came on, a long-feeling beat later, he exhaled in relief, human-fashion.

  “I’m taking a shower now!” he yelled out. “Stay there, Wynter! Stay where you are! I mean it!”

  He heard her laugh, like he’d just said the funniest thing in the world.

  “Did you hear me?” he yelled.

  “You are a goofball!” she yelled back. “You’re acting crazy!”

  “I am not!”