Her Vampire Suspect (Midnight Doms Book 11)

by Brenda Trim

  “I’ve taught you well.” I place a hand over my heart. She’s come a long way from the cocky but clueless newbie who arrived fresh from the academy. “I won’t put myself at risk. I know better. I’ll call you tomorrow. I’d better get ready to go.”

  “Be safe, and try to have fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve been laid, and I know it’s been even longer for you.”

  That is truer than Bria realizes. It’s not easy to establish enough trust with another person for me to really let go. And I’m not into casual flings. There’s a part of me that wants a partner who can take control, and allow me to unwind and forget everything else.

  As a Special Agent, I am constantly on. Being able to trust another enough to allow them to hold the reins for a bit is unheard of for me. Yet it is something I want badly.

  An image of Corbyn swinging a paddle while I am naked on my hands and knees flashes in my mind. My ass clenches as I imagine the sting that ignites the arousal in my core. Nope. That’s not happening. I’ll enjoy his company while I continue my search for a suspect.

  Shoving those thoughts aside, I refocus on our conversation. “It’s been a while. But tonight is about doing another search for our perp.” I said the last more for my benefit than Bria’s.

  I say my goodbyes to Bria and get dressed while trying to think about anything except the absurd desire to give Corbyn control for one blissful night. It is way too early to be thinking about jumping into bed with the man.

  Once dressed, I sit down at my vanity and twist my hair into an easy updo, then apply light makeup. A little concealer to hide the dark circles under my eyes, followed by eyeliner and eye shadow.

  Pausing, I consider putting on mascara. It tends to make my eyes dry out. Deciding to accentuate my best feature, I add it to my long lashes. Some clear gloss on my lips finishes the look, and I slip into my strappy heels.

  I’m halfway down my driveway when I realize I forgot my cell on my vanity. I rush back and grab it, seeing a text from Diggs. I roll my eyes when I see his offer to act as my back-up. Now that he’s seen me outside the stuffy suits and loafers, he wants a piece of the action. I shoot him a quick reply letting him know I have it under control and that Bria is ready to respond if needed.

  Tossing my phone into my purse, I start the engine and back out of my driveway. Several people are out taking walks around my neighborhood, which is nice to see. It reminds me what I’m protecting.

  I’ve tried to come up with a profile of who we’re looking for and I go over what I can assume based on what we know about him. Based on all available information, Bria and I agree that his hunting ground is Club Toxic.

  That means he’s got to be smooth talking, but I suspect insincere. He’s no doubt impulsive, but careful enough to cover his tracks and leave no evidence behind. He makes sure to leave his victims where we will find them. It’s his way of thumbing his nose at the cops, making him egocentric and grandiose. He doesn’t think we’re clever enough to outsmart him.

  Before I know it, I’m at the club. For once, I easily find a parking spot. There aren’t as many cars as I hoped to find. There isn’t going to be much more activity than there was last night. Then again, it is still early. Hopefully it will pick up. I grab my purse and push the button to lock my door.

  My heart races and my breathing hitches when I think of my date. My focus is finding my suspect, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget my attraction to Corbyn. A breeze blows across the back of my overheated neck. I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d like to throw caution to the wind tonight.

  I reach the sidewalk and notice the line is non-existent. It’s early enough in the night that I don’t encounter too many hopefuls. I smile at the bouncers and pull out my ID. The Russell Crowe lookalike in his impeccable suit is far better looking than the James Dean wannabe in his leather jacket.

  Most women like the bad boy, but I hunt bad boys for a living, and find nothing about them appealing. Aside from the fact that most guys I know dressed in leather are criminals, I prefer my men well-dressed rather than scruffy.

  I enter the bar and again wonder about the coat check and their choice of attendants. A guy in a t-shirt, with muscles straining against the cotton of the sleeves, barely acknowledges me as I pass. He has to be backup for the bouncers at the door. Nothing else makes sense.

  The music is loud and drowning out the rest of the world. It seeps into the tile floor and vibrates throughout my body. I sway as I search for Corbyn. The mahogany L-shaped bar is to my left. None of the patrons waiting for drinks catch my attention. The tables and lounge area are practically empty.

  My eyes hop from one guest to another, searching for a smoldering pair of gray eyes. A hand on my back heats me from within and sparks the inferno I’ve barely been able to keep under wraps. It’s Corbyn. Somehow, I sense his presence.

  Turning, I smile. “Perfect timing. I just got here.”

  Corbyn kisses the back of my hand, letting his mouth linger on my skin longer than is appropriate. Delicious flames lick down my arms and across my body, and I lean toward him. I haven’t felt this giddy since I was accepted into the academy.

  Suddenly, all I can think about is how badly I want to grab his face and kiss him senseless. I want to go to my knees and pleasure him in every way possible. My body shakes in his proximity. I’m walking a dangerous line. Corbyn makes me want things I shouldn’t.

  “Mmmm.” His breath brushes my skin before he rises to his full height. He makes me feel petite and feminine. Strangely enough, I like it. A lot.

  “You look stunning tonight. Good enough to eat.” His eyes blaze like liquid silver in the shifting lights of the club. My nipples pucker under his hungry gaze when his eyes dip to my breasts and stay there.

  His thigh muscles bunch and flex as he pulls a chair up beside me. My mouth waters. I want to know what he looks like without clothes. His button-down shirt and tailored slacks don’t give enough away for me to know how muscular he really is.

  “So, tell me more about yourself, Corbyn. What do you do?”

  “There’s not much to tell. I’m a workaholic and live in my lab.” He waves at the passing waitress, who approaches the table. “Tonic with a twist of lime, right?” He lifts his eyebrows toward me for approval.

  My head jerks up. The fake drinks didn’t fool him for a minute. “Margarita. No salt, please.What type of research do you do?” I set my purse on the table.

  “Medical. Specifically, medications for autoimmune conditions. I own Inovius.”

  “The pharmaceutical company?” Of course, he’d like an environment he has complete control over.

  “I’m impressed. Women never know what my company is, let alone what it does,” he informs me.

  The compliment does something to me. I suddenly feel a hundred feet tall, with more power than the bouncers. “Of course I know. You developed one of the most effective drugs for managing rheumatoid arthritis, and I hear that now, you’re looking into more effective treatments for cancer.”

  We chat for a few minutes about the issues he’s been facing with the developing cancer treatments and how to ameliorate the worst symptoms. Killing bad cells while leaving healthy ones untouched is nearly impossible. More often than not, the treatment is worse than the disease. Developing medications that eliminate the need for harmful radiation has been at the top of his list. The waitress delivers our drinks, and I’ve finished mine before I even realize it.

  Talking to Corbyn is one of the easiest things in the world. It feels as if I’ve known him for years rather than hours. I can’t stop smiling, and don’t want this evening to end. I am so caught up in my conversation with him that I nearly forgot my plan for tonight.

  My stomach sours and I split my attention between Corbyn and those around me. I hardly register when Corbyn clarifies that biologic medications aren’t in any way the same as painkillers.

  A guy approaches a woman across the bar. None of that stands out to me until the woman
’s face goes slack. She’s fucking been drugged! I stand up so suddenly, my bar stool nearly topples over.

  Corbyn catches my arm and follows my gaze to the couple. “What’s wrong, Ava?”

  I force a smile to my lips. “Nothing. I just realized how late it is.”

  The guy leads the woman toward the door.

  “I have work in the morning and should be going.”

  Corbyn drops his hand and takes a step back. “I see.” I think he sees far more than I want him to. He’s a scientist, after all, and his job is to notice what others miss. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from getting enough sleep. Meet me for dinner tomorrow night.”

  He strolls to the door and I grab my purse, lengthening my stride to keep up with him.

  “Do you like sushi?” I ask.

  Corbyn holds the door open for me and grimaces as I pass.

  I chuckle. “Okay, how about Mexican food?”

  He waves to the bouncers and places his hand at the small of my back as he escorts me to my car. The other guy and his date are hurrying to the parking lot. “Mexican sounds perfect. How about El Merenderos?”

  “I love that place. How does seven sound? That’s me over there.” I cross to my Sentra and grab the handle to unlock the doors.

  Corbyn leans down and presses his lips to mine in a brief kiss that makes me melt. My knees buckle and I steady myself with a palm on the roof.

  A dark blue Mercedes exits the parking lot.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” I jump in my seat and close the door. Corbyn’s gaze follows me as I peel out of the space and look down the street.

  The Mercedes turns left, and I pursue, but not too closely. There aren’t many out tonight, making it easier to keep my eyes on the car. I press a button on my steering wheel but hesitate when I hear the automated voice asking how she can help.

  The guy stops at a park and the woman climbs out after him. I pass the lot and park on the street then climb out of my car and make my way through the park. I have to follow them and make sure he doesn’t hurt her.

  There are paths and some trees, along with picnic tables. I hear the woman laughing and the guy telling her to go to her knees and that he’s going to fuck her. My mind is whirling, and I start to run in their direction.

  I’m halfway across the park when I hear the woman moaning. My legs slow when I hear her scream for him to fuck her harder. They’re having sex and I’m about to ruin the moment.

  How did I read this so wrong? She isn’t slurring her words and clearly isn’t passed out. Should I intervene as I stop altogether? I go around a tree and see him thrusting into her from behind while holding her up by the hair.

  He bares what look like fangs when she is upright, and her neck is inches from his mouth. A snarl leaves him. A second later, he sinks the fangs into her neck. I cry out, making him lift his head.

  I try to duck down, so he doesn’t see me, but a set of arms stops me from getting very far when they wrap around my midsection. It’s Corbyn. My heart skips several beats and I struggle in his hold. “What are you doing?”

  The guy across the park goes back to his victim, and Corbyn carries me in the opposite direction. I shove my elbows into his abdomen. He hisses in my ear. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have seen that. Shit. I don’t want to erase your memory. Your mind is too valuable to risk.”

  “Put me the fuck down. Now. I need to call for backup. He’s going to kill her.”

  Corbyn shakes me in his tight hold. “Malik isn’t going to kill that woman. He’s feeding from her. Something you shouldn’t have seen.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Feeding?” My skin chills. None of this is normal. That guy isn’t human.

  I have no idea what he is. Demon comes to mind, but I’m barely able to think straight as my heart starts racing in my chest. Sweat beads all over my body, making my shirt stick to my back.

  Corbyn doesn’t answer me as he opens the door to a red Ferrari and tosses me inside.

  “What are you doing? You can’t kidnap me. I’m an FBI agent. You’ll be arrested for a Federal offense!”

  Corbyn laughs and is in the driver’s seat before I blink my eyes. I tug at the door handle when he pulls away from the curb and takes off. He’s the killer I’ve been searching for. How did I get him so wrong?

  My instincts failed me. It makes no sense. Corbyn is anything but emotionally withdrawn. There’s never been any sign he’s impulsive or egotistical. Nothing I’ve seen from him fits the profile.

  My heart stops when he heads away from civilization. Fucking hell! I left my purse in my car, and have no way to reach out to Bria or Diggs. They’ll find my body eventually. Evidence. I yank several strands of my hair out and drop them along the side of the seat. Then I bite the inside of my cheek and run my finger over the injury. The fabric under the seat is cloth, and absorbs the blood I smear there.

  Corbyn might kill me, but he is going to pay. He might not be human, but he likely won’t like being in a small cell. I will do my best to take him down with me before he manages to end my life.

  4

  Corbyn

  Ava stops ordering me to let her go and starts yanking out strands of her hair.

  What the hell is this crazy woman doing?

  Her hand dips in front of her seat, where she wiggles her fingers.

  I laugh. I’ve basically kidnapped her, and she’s leaving evidence that can be used against me. She doesn’t cry and beg for her life. A tantalizing scent makes my fangs punch down when she sticks her finger in her mouth. My mouth drops open when she runs a bloody digit under my seat. It fills the car with her scent, distracting me.

  She stated her position of authority, instead of doing what I expected. This woman never reacts predictably. I am committing a crime, and she’s making sure I won’t get away with it.

  I can’t stop chuckling. She’s adorable. “Ava, I’m not going to hurt you, so you can stop all that.” Lifting my hands briefly, I hold them out.

  She continues decorating my interior with strands of her hair. “You just shoved me into your car against my will, and I’m supposed to believe you?” Ava shakes her head, like I’m the crazy one. Her defiance draws me to her even more.

  I take a deep breath and tap my fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re just going for a little drive while I explain what you saw.”

  She glares at me. “Yes. Please do. Because that back there was un-fucking-real. What the hell do you know about it? Is he a demon or something?” She throws her hands up and grumbles. “Yeah, because demons are real. This is nuts! Get me out of this car.” She grabs for the handle, but the door won’t budge. “Let me out!” She punches my shoulder.

  Of course, it’s like a puppy swatting me, but her refusal to go down meekly is a major turn on. “Hey, there’s no need for violence, young lady.” I suppress a smile.

  “Let me out of here, asshole! HELP!” She elbows the window.

  I grab her wrists. “Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “You’re pissed, I get it. But I had no choice. You pose a danger to my kind, and you need to hear me out.” I slow on the off-ramp and turn right, calming my desire to kiss her then bend her will with my flogger. “And before you continue planting any more evidence for my eventual arrest, know that your human law enforcement cannot touch me or my kind. You will listen to me before making a final judgement.”

  Ava’s eyes narrow and she purses her mouth as if she’d just taken a bite of a rotten apple. Without bothering to hide anything else, she lifts her hand and wiggles her fingers to dislodge the remaining strands of hair. I can’t stop the chuckle that leaves my throat.

  “I’m an FBI agent. I will not sit here while you allow Malik and whoever else to continue killing innocent women.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “What are you, anyway?”

  This is always the moment when humans come unhinged. I haven’t yet encountered anyone who can handle having knowledge of the creatures tha
t go bump in the night. It shatters their illusion of safety, and frightens them more than almost anything else. Many come to accept the existence of vampires, but it takes time.

  The idea is daunting, but her feisty attitude makes it difficult to think of anything except tying her to my bed. I want to explore her feminine folds with my tongue before I sink balls-deep in her welcoming body. My fangs would follow.

  The images have my shaft hardening even more. I hadn’t softened since I saw her enter the club earlier. If I am being honest with myself, I’ve been hard for her since the first time she walked through Club Toxic’s doors.

  I bare my fangs instead of forcing them to retract, and turn my head. Our eyes meet for one charged second. In that heartbeat, electricity fills the car and travels over my body, singeing my skin.

  “What do you think I am?”

  I expect her to recoil and move away from me, but she leans forward and extends her hand toward my mouth. My body jolts, and I’m tempted to pull the car over to the side of the road and rip her clothes from her body.

  Instead, I hold still and part my lips while she prods one of my fangs with a finger. She pushes my upper lip up to reveal more of my gums. I allow it, shocked by what she is doing. I feel her gaze on me like a flame enveloping me.

  The touch is tentative, and my cock twitches as if she was touching it. Lust consumes me in a flash, leaving me unable to do much. When her finger probes the end of one fang, a growl slips from my mouth.

  “You have fangs. That other guy bit that woman, and I have no doubt he drank her blood. You moved faster than I could reach for the door handle. Obviously, you’re not human. Evidence points to you being a vampire. But they don’t exist. Or so I always believed.” She removes her finger and I want to yank her hand and force her to continue fondling my fangs. Her heart is racing in her chest, and her breaths are fast and shallow. I send calming vibes her way before she hyperventilates.

  “I am a vampire. So is Malik. That isn’t something I can allow you to share with anyone else. Our existence must remain secret.”