The bar's owner motioned her over the minute he caught sight of her weaving through the crowd. Even on a weeknight, Murphy's packed them in. She side-stepped several people, careful not to bump their hands or catch them off guard. A bar full of standing patrons with full glasses in their hands usually meant she was wearing liquor by the end of the night. No one had ever accused her of being graceful.
"Hey, beautiful," he said, gathering her into a bear of a hug. "Where’ve you been hiding?"
She backed from his embrace and smiled up at the very tall man. He could have been a basketball player for his height, but Cara knew that Lyle lacked the ambition for sports in school, opting for partying with his buddies instead of dribbling balls. "I've been working, Lyle. Some of us are busy with our jobs."
"Shit, them boys" —he indicated her fellow deputies with the towel in his hand— "work, too. But they got time to come in and patronize my bar."
"If that's what you want to call what they do." She smiled and winked at the six-foot-eight man, then headed for the table of fellow officers.
"You drinking?" Lyle hollered after her.
"Joe was supposed to have a beer waiting," she said, smiling as Hernandez pointed at the frosty mugged draft already sitting on the table in front of the empty chair.
"Sit your pretty little behind down, Brahnam," Joe said. "You're already about three beers behind."
"Good thing." Cara pulled out the chair and sat, taking a healthy swig of the icy cold brew. She had to admit, the beer tasted great after the day she’d had. "Or I'd be heading home for bed already."
"Everyone knows you're a lightweight, Detective," Jeff Reeves said with a chuckle. She could tell he was well into several beers, his glassy eyes proving as much.
"Not a lightweight, Jeff. Just smarter than the rest of you fools. I certainly hope you have a designated driver."
Joe slapped Reeves on the back and chuckled. "We'll make sure he gets home and tucked in all right."
"So, what was all important to get me out of the house on a chilly night? To think I could be curled up in bed with a good book right about now."
"See, that's exactly why we called." Joe grinned, saluting her with his draft. "We're saving you from yourself."
A round of laughter followed Joe's taunt, which she shared in. They weren't poking fun at her but rather joking with her. Working with mostly guys, she needed to be able to take a good ribbing as well as laugh at herself. Besides, Cara liked to give as good as she got.
"Shouldn't you be home, Joe? I thought the kids were away. That wife of yours isn't waiting for you?"
His smile reached his eyes. "She told me to get the hell out, said I needed to give her space. I guess I'm just too much man for her and twenty-four-seven sex is a bit of an overkill."
The guys laughed and fist bumped each other.
Cara rolled her eyes. "More like annoying the hell out of her twenty-four-seven."
"Coming from the woman who never gets any."
She snorted. "You act as if I care, Joe."
The last thing Cara wanted or needed was lack-luster sex. Her mind drifted back to the shower and her straying thoughts. Somehow she doubted sex with Kane would ever be deemed boring. Though, not a thought she intended to share with her co-workers.
"Did we find out anything more about the dead vic?" Cara asked, hoping desperately to change the subject and get the topic off her. Last thing she wanted was the entire office talking about her lack of a sex life. Jesting with her partner was one thing, letting the entire office in on the joke was another.
Jeff said, "Just before I left, the ME called. Thought he shouldn't have any trouble IDing her. Somebody's got to be missing her. If she's from Pleasant, he said he'd probably find out by tomorrow afternoon at the latest who she was."
"Maybe if we get an ID we'll be able to discover who she’d been hanging with before she died and give us a clue as to what the hell happened." Joe held up his empty draft mug and nodded at Lyle for a refill. "Our best bet is going to be witnesses. That fucking storm killed our chances for footprints."
Cara had a bad niggling in her gut. Something about this latest victim didn't sit right with her. "Too many prints out there to be of much use anyway. But you're right, the rain certainly didn't help. We can go back to the site tomorrow, but with slope of the landscape, our evidence is probably long washed away."
"We collected what we could," one of the attending deputies offered.
"Unfortunately, that isn't going to be good enough," Cara grumbled and took another swig from her beer. The alcohol sat like a rock in her stomach. Suddenly, she felt as if coming here hadn’t been the best idea. She had never been much of a social butterfly, preferring to stay home more than not. Spending the night drinking at the local tavern had never been her idea of fun, regardless of what her co-workers thought.
Or maybe spending time in someone else’s company held more appeal.
Lord, if she kept to that line of thinking, she'd be on her own slippery slope. Not like Kane would be interested. His taunts earlier had been just that. He'd never engage himself with a cop, not with the life he led. Cops and bikers didn't mix. They came from opposing sides of the law. Like mixing water with oil, the two elements never blended, no matter how hard you shook them.
But like it or not, it was his vision that stuck in her head. Cara took another swig of her draft, disgusted by her train of thought. Maybe she ought to go see that psychiatrist yet. Unlucky for her, her libido had finally shown up and, like Cupid with his damn little arrows, had aimed itself right at the figment of her nightmares from the past ten years. Coming back to Pleasant might not have been the wisest choice after all.
Joe chuckled. "Brahnam? Did you even hear a word I said?"
Cara scratched her nape, giving him the best apologetic look she could muster. "I told you I wasn't much in the mood for mixing company, Joe. You’re the one who insisted I come hang out and have a beer."
He shrugged off her accusation. "I was just saying that these killings were on the verge of being freakish, like something out of the Twilight Zone. What the hell is the guy doing with the blood? With no rope burns around the ankle, it's not like he's hanging them to drain. It's like he's sucking the blood right out of them."
She toyed with the damp napkin beneath her mug. "I'm sure when we find this sick bastard he'll be able to elaborate what the hell he's doing with it."
"You think this fuck is drinking it?" Reeves asked, his brows knit together over the bridge of his nose, excitement lit his blue eyes.
Cara didn't want to chime in, but she feared that's exactly what was happening. And if that were the case, then she feared Kane knew more than he was letting on. Her thoughts returned to the night she ran from the bathroom while blood dripped from his fangs … fucking fangs!
Who has those?
A shiver passed down her spine. "I'm sure that's possible. But humans can't ingest that amount of blood and keep it down. Our digestive system would reject it. So there is no way this freak is drinking it all. Which means we have a crime scene somewhere with a hell of a lot of blood, or he’s dumping it somewhere."
A petite redhead approached the table. She wore a tiny little pen skirt, barely covering her front end, let alone her back end. The teeny scrap of a tank she adorned on top left little to the imagination as it plunged deep between her perky breasts. A cinnamon-painted smile complimented her tanned skin. The worst part, she didn't even appear legal. Although she had to be old enough to drink or Lyle wouldn’t have allowed her into his establishment in the first place. He wasn't one to mess with underage.
Placing her hands on the battered table, she leaned forward, giving everyone a good hint of what lay beneath her teeny top. After she got every man's attention, she turned to Jeff Reeves. The young dispatch smiled drunkenly back at the woman who proceeded to ask him to dance. Following a bantering from the table, Jeff took the redhead's hand and was led away from the group.
"Looks like someone m
ight get some action tonight," one of the deputies said before shaking his head and taking another swig from his bottle. "The ugliest one of the bunch."
"You might want to look in the mirror, you ugly son of a bitch," Joe said, patting him on the shoulder. "What do you say, Brahnam? Reeves better looking than Higgins here?"
Cara's gaze landed on Reeve's who danced behind the redhead, rubbing up against her backside. He was definitely the cutest thing at the station, but also the youngest. He reminded her of the cute actor from Gossip Girls, Chase something-or-other.
"Better looking than any of your ugly mugs." She chuckled, then finished the remains of her beer. Before she had a chance to politely excuse herself and rush off, though, Lyle set a fresh frozen mug in front of her. Cara sighed. So much for sneaking out early.
* * *
Kane walked silently across the plush burgundy carpet of Draven's office. A warm, gold paint covered the walls, while draperies, matching the floor coloring, covered the windows so that even in the daytime, no light shone through. The small table lamps flanking the sofa lent to the room's ambiance. A perfect vampire's lair, Kane thought with a wry smile.
Using the owner's space became a necessity since being spied upon in the bathroom by young and impressionable Cara Brahnam years ago. Even at her tender age back then, she had all the makings of becoming a stunner. Hell, it had been damn risky of him to take his donor to the ladies’ restroom in the first place but she had been a bit of an exhibitionist. The thought of getting caught had always been a turn on to her. Sex in public hadn't been the problem, though … feeding from her was. Worse yet, it had been pure idiocy on his part not to follow Cara and use the hypnosis they had mastered over the years to convince her the scene she had witnessed hadn't actually happened. Changing their eyes to an obsidian glass-like appearance made hypnosis easy. Using hypnotic suggestion, they could convince anyone of anything. It's how they kept their secret. For some reason he had allowed Cara to remember that night. Kane had broken a club rule and allowed an outsider to be privy to their kind. Only donors were given that right.
Donors, a reticent society privy to the vampires' existence, allowed his kind to feed from them, much like donating pints to the Red Cross. They provided necessary food to those who had need. Unlike the vampires of folklore or fiction, they only required about a half pint of blood every few days to keep them fully nourished. They had no need to attack and drain anyone dry, which made him think of his last donor falling prey to the murdering scum who had been draining women of all their life's blood. The more a vampire fed, the stronger they became. If Kane needed to hone his skills and keep himself sharp, then he made sure he fed regularly. But never had he drunk a human dry. Besides, feeding daily required more than one donor, and Kane preferred to remain exclusive. Not only was it safer, it was also less dramatic. No need for any female to go all territorial. Kane didn't need the melodrama.
His gaze fell upon the short-bobbed brunette patiently lounging on the Italian leather sofa, watching his every move. Hell, if he didn't know better, he'd guess her the predator and he the prey with the look of hunger in her blue gaze. Her long lean pleather-clad legs stretched out in front of her, giving her that model thin appearance so many women strived for. Kane preferred his women with a bit more curves, not that he was in a position for turning away a meal. Sex was an entirely different matter. Her sultry eyes had been rimmed with soft black kohl. Suzi really could be quite bewitching and held her own with most of the women in the club, even if she wasn't normally his type. Kane certainly wouldn't bitch about feeding from her, but she had been already passed around by the Sons, not only as a donor but perhaps for sexual favors as well. He didn't plan on tapping into where his brothers had already been.
She patted the soft leather beside her. "Why don't you quit pacing and come over here and keep me company. You're making me nervous."
One of his brows inched up. He chuckled. "I make you anxious? Interesting. You're a norm with the Son's. So, why the hell would I make you nervous? It's not like you don't know what we are. You wear the vial of blood around your throat. You freely offer yourself."
Suzi shrugged, toyed with the tiny vial between her thumb and forefinger. "Because you’re different … you're the President."
"You've been with Hawk?"
She nodded. “Once.”
"He's VP."
"Yeah, but he's not you."
"He's my twin. What makes me so different?"
"You aren't exactly approachable, Viper. And frankly, sometimes you scare the hell out of me and some of the other girls here at the club. It’s no secret that you’re standoffish and moody."
"And Hawk isn't?"
She tilted her chin to meet his gaze as he approached the sofa.
“I don’t want to talk about Hawk. He’s history and not worth my time.”
Her admission had him wondering what exactly Hawk had done to piss off the petite brunette. But then again, what Hawk did with his personal life was none of his damn business.
The pulse at the base of her throat called to him. He could hear the soft patter of her heart from a couple of feet away. Hell, this hungry, he would have heard it from across the room. His fangs lengthened in anticipation. Her slight intake of air told him she had noted his change. His eyes warmed as they changed to their black glassy appearance. Kane could smell her sexual desire as her interest in him heightened.
He'd oblige his thirst. But he had no intention on partaking in any sexual favors she might offer as well. Not being able to help himself, he asked, “What did Hawk do to earn your scorn?”
Suzi rolled her eyes and sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, clearly not wanting to talk about his brother. Kane’s interest peaked even more.
"He’s not exactly a gentleman and we are clearly not suited for one another. Hawk is straight-forward, I’ll give him that. He lets you know from the get-go what he's after, whether or not you want to hear it.” She paused, studied him, then said, “You? I'm not so sure. Even now I don't know if you want to feed from me or fuck me. You hang at the Rave; you don't socialize. You talk to no one other than your MC members and Draven."
"I have no need to."
"See, that's exactly what I mean. Hawk and the boys come here to party. They like to have fun. I'm never quite sure why you're here."
It was his turn to shrug. "I need to feed. The Rave provides that. Besides, I like Draven."
"Do you?"
"Why would you ask?"
"Because you give off a vibe, Viper … one that says you don't like anyone."
"Good."
She chuckled. "And that's exactly why you make me nervous."
"You have no need to fear I would harm you or take your life."
"You would if you had to."
He narrowed his gaze. "Yes. But there is only one reason to eliminate a donor and that's if we fear our secret is no longer safe with you. You knew when you became one that the punishment for revealing our secret is death."
"You wouldn't be the one to do it if I did."
"No, that's handled by your own kind. We don’t need your deaths on our hands. So again, why fear me?"
"You're dangerous."
"So is Hawk … or any one of my brothers."
"Not here. They let their guard down, relax. They make us feel at ease. You're different: always on guard, always serious. Even now, I think you would rather take what you came for and then get the hell out of here. Am I correct?"
"I’d rather not be having this conversation with you, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
She smiled as if she knew exactly how he would answer.
“Make no mistake, Suzi, if I the need to take you out, I wouldn't hesitate. None of the Sons would. We aren’t to be crossed or toyed with."
The smell of her desire increased. Apparently her fear was also a turn on. "You’re not only dangerous, but truthful … like Hawk,” she added as if in afterthought. “It’s always good to know where one sta
nds. But not one of the Sons has ever said they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if the need arose."
"Any one of my brothers is as lethal."
"My point is I've never had one of them threaten me."
"That's because they're trying to get in your pants, Suzi. It's bad form to scare the hell out of something you want to fuck."
"And you aren't?"
"No."
Suzi rose from the sofa and sauntered toward him. Stopping just inches from him, he could feel the heat of her blood. She grabbed his flaccid cock. Her face registered her disappointment in not getting a rise out of him.
She slid her palm over his jean-clad dick. "I can't change your mind?"
He removed her hand. "No."
Her ruby lips turned down in a well-practiced pout. He couldn't help but wonder how many men fell for that look. "Even if it's what I want?"
"Your desires are of no concern of mine, Suzi. You can take them up with one of my more willing brothers."
"Then why bring me up here if not to get me out of my pants? I've heard the talk amongst the women in the club. They say you're insatiable."
"Because I'm hungry, Suzi, and I am tiring of this conversation. I don't want to fuck you. I think I've made myself pretty clear. If you don’t want to nourish me, then get the fuck out so I can find someone more willing."
She came within mere inches and grabbed his crotch again. "Oh, I'm willing. I just want to feed all of your hungers. I know you aren't exclusive when it comes to sex. So why not take what I offer?"
Kane’s reputation no doubt preceded him at the club. He wasn't one to turn down a willing female, not when it came to getting laid. He was only exclusive when it came to feeding. And Suzi wasn’t his normal donor type either, but tonight he was too fucking hungry to care.
"Don't take it personal, Suzi. I'm not looking to fuck. I just need to feed."
Viper (Sons of Sangue) Page 5
