She smiled. “Right this way.” I followed her into what I assumed was Zack’s office. Like the rest of the house, it was elegant yet homey. I liked it.
As I settled behind the desk, I tried not to think about where Zack was resting, or if he was alone. Was he with Victoria? Just the thought made me see green. Green and red—jealousy and anger; a dangerous combination. I didn’t think I was the jealous type, but when it came to Zack, all bets were off. As for Victoria, vampire bitch, I was going to have to up my game. I needed to do a major reassessment, to get another gun, maybe a few more knives, or even a grenade or two. If I hadn’t been shielding, I would have sensed her coming. As much as I hated to admit it, Tymon was right; there was a lot more to shielding than I realized.
On that thought, I flipped open the dossier and began reading. Jessie, you bad boy. He wasn’t only selling booze; he was also running drugs through the bar. He was also up to his eyeballs in debt. So, what did that have to do with SangreLa? Anya said he frequented the club and claimed to be friends with the owner. He took Tamara there the night she was abducted. Was she taken from SangreLa? Were the two somehow connected?
Using Zack’s archaic push-button phone, I called my old unit and asked for Allen Lambert. When Mick broke his leg and I had to partner with someone else, that someone was Allen. Allen had my back. He knew the score with Gonad and had offered to go to bat for me, but I wouldn’t let him.
“Lambert speaking.”
“Allen, it’s Diana.”
“Di! How the hell are you? How’s the new gig treating you?”
“I’m still alive,” I half-joked.
We chatted about his kids and our jobs before I cut to the chase. I filled him in on Jessie. He said he would look into it and to call back in an hour.
As it turned out, four of the missing girls were seen at Venom the night of their disappearance. I asked him about SangreLa, but as far as he knew, the two weren’t connected. We made plans to go for a beer before hanging up. Jessie was a bad dude, but my gut said he wasn’t acting alone. Someone was pulling his strings. I thought of Tamara’s bite marks. Were the girls being trafficked to vampires? If so, why?
After talking to Allen, I called Tymon. His voicemail picked up, and I left a short message about how I was making progress. Before ending the call, I added that I didn’t have my phone with me but would check in again soon. Hopefully, that would hold him until I could get back to my apartment and get my things.
Around four, I took Selma’s suggestion and went for a swim. Zack had an array of swimsuits to choose from. Of course, they were all bikinis. I chose one that made me look as if I actually had boobs and didn’t have the entire ass missing.
October in Charleston ranged from chilly to balmy. Today was on the chilly side. I slid into the warm pool with a sigh. My parents had a pool. As a kid, I used to love to swim in it. I would have loved it more had it looked out over the ocean. A girl could get used to this. As I leaned over the side and gazed down at the crashing waves, I felt a pang of sadness for Zack. To never see the sun again would be tragic.
A memory flashed through my head—of Victoria with her eyes glowing red, her claws unsheathed, and her fangs fully extended as she tore into Zack. Blood was everywhere. Not mine, but theirs. Was he hurt? Did he let her rip him apart, or did they laugh about it later while snuggling in bed? Lenora wasn’t the only one I needed to tread carefully around.
At five, I pulled the robe on over my swimsuit and headed back to the main house, hoping that Selma would have a change of clothes for me. Selma was nowhere to be found. I had all intentions of going back to my room but instead decided to explore. The technical term would be snooping but exploring sounded so much better. The house was beautiful, the furnishings light and airy, just like a beach house should be. There were four bedrooms upstairs and two more on the main floor—one of which appeared to be the master. It was clear from the immaculately made bed and empty drawers that the master slept somewhere else. Huh, interesting. Selma said he was resting. I pictured a dark, dank, windowless room filled with coffins, and shivered. Do you sleep in a coffin? Did I really want to know? The answer was yes.
It took some searching, but I finally found the basement door hidden in an alcove off the kitchen. At least, I thought it was the basement door. This is a bad idea. With a twist of the knob, I slowly pulled it open. Fully expecting to find rickety, wooden, horror-flick basement stairs, I was thrilled to discover the same plush carpet as upstairs. My gut screamed for me to stop, to turn my ass around and get the hell out of there. Did I listen to it? No. I ignored the one thing that made me a good cop—and all because I couldn’t stand the thought of him with her.
It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind me and I was staring into the smothering darkness, that I realized my mistake. Shitfuckityshit! I scrambled to find the light switch. At the discovery that there wasn’t one, I panicked. Cursing like a sailor, I threw myself at the door, only to find that the door had locked behind me. This was bad. So very, very bad. I was trapped in the darkness with nowhere to go but down.
8
I wanted to go down those stairs about as much as I wanted to get a barium enema. As the panic set in, I began to hyperventilate. Jesus, Diana, it’s just the dark. It wasn’t just the dark, though. It was darkness that led to a monster’s lair. He may look like a man, and even act like one, but last night I got a glimpse of the monster, and it scared the living hell out of me.
Once I got my breath under control, I began to inch toward the stairs. One by one, I made my way down, cursing my stupidity every step of the way. When I hit what I thought was the bottom, I stuck my hands out and felt around for the door.
“Looking for something?” a deep voice asked, and I screamed. Then I ran. I was halfway up the stairs when he caught me. In the blink of an eye, we were no longer on the stairs but back at the bottom. “What are you doing down here, Diana?” he whispered in my ear.
A minute or six later, when I no longer felt like pissing myself, I replied, “Uh, I was just looking for wine.” It was a horrible lie. I was a horrible liar, but there was no way I was telling him the truth.
“Liar,” he whispered, his gravelly tone sending chills up my spine. “Now, I’ll ask you once again, what are you doing down here?”
The way he said it, as if I was an errant child, hit a nerve, and I reacted. “Why, Zack? Is Victoria down here with you? Have the two of you been giggling in your coffins about how she fanged the stupid human?” I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “Let me go.”
“No.”
Obstinate vampire. “She attacked me last night!” I shouted. “Yes, I might have lied and said I overheard the two of you talking, when I didn’t, but it was for the case, not because I was trying to get into her lover boy’s pants. She came into my home and attacked me.” My eyes welled, and my voice wobbled, which only made the stupid situation ten times worse. “Fuck you,” I rasped. “Fuck you and fuck her.” I turned to leave and found myself pressed against the wall. My robe slipped, and I felt his bare chest rub against my bikini top. My traitorous nipples practically wept with joy from the stimulation.
“Let me go.”
“She almost had you drained. You almost died because of my carelessness. I had to give you my blood, to force it down your throat while begging you to take it—begging you not to die.” His forehead dropped to mine as he whispered, “You almost died.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks. Here I was, monsterfying him, and there he was all worried about me. “I’m fine. You saved me. I’m here. See; feel.” I took his hand and pressed it against my beating heart.
The minute his skin touched mine, I felt that same crazy connection snap into place. From the sound of his sharp inhale, he felt it too. His fingers trailed from my heart down to my bikini top, his erotically charged touch a direct link to the deepest, darkest parts of me. My breath hitched, then turned to a groan as his thumb stroked over my nipple before continuing its sensuo
us descent down my stomach to the top of my bikini bottoms.
Before this went any further—and I really, really wanted it to go further—I asked, “Where’s Victoria, Zack?” I had a feeling I knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.
“Gone. She hurt you. I had to stop her. I—”
I kissed him before he could finish the sentence. The thought that he’d ended her for me made me all melty inside.
The next thing I knew, my legs were around his waist, and we were moving. Not just moving, but moving fast—so fast it felt like we were flying.
With a jolt, I was back on my feet. My robe hit the floor, my swimsuit following in its wake, then my back hit the bed, and he was on me. As his lips caressed and his tongue devoured, I could feel him inside me, feel how much he wanted me. It was heady, exciting . . . beyond erotic. It was also very, very dark.
“Lights,” I whispered. With a whoosh, candles all over the room erupted with flames. Relieved to discover we were in a bedroom—an elegant, very masculine bedroom—I gazed at the dark, dangerous predator hovering over me, his deadly fangs glistening in the candlelight, and a warning ghosted through my head. I was playing with fire. There was no doubt I would end up getting burned.
Burn baby burn.
As Zack stared down at me, his eyes shifting from red to black, from monster to man, I realized he was waiting—waiting to see if I would accept him—all of him. Stupid vampire.
“Kiss me.”
His mouth split into a breathtaking smile, then his head dipped, and he kissed me. No, he devoured me. Sliding my hands under the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms, I gripped his velvety hardness, while at the same time swallowing his sexy groan.
As he pushed up and began to strip off his pajama pants, I got an eyeful of his delicious body. Lordy, he was beautiful—all lean muscles and masculine angles. And just look at that giant cock. When he wrapped his fingers around his erection and lined it up to my entrance, I nearly swallowed my tongue. Watching him, how he handled himself with such ease and confidence, was beyond orgasmic inducing. Slowly, he slid inside. We both let out a groan. He pulled out and pushed back in, which elicited another groan. Fangs now on full display, he lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to mine. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted him to feel as breathless and out of control as he made me feel. I wanted his fangs in my neck and that big cock pounding inside my body. He started to pull back and I nipped his bottom lip; silently telling him that I wanted more. His dark eyes flashed red. A delightfully carnal look appeared on his face, and my pulse jumped with excitement. Now we’re talking. He slowly withdrew, only this time he didn’t ease back in. This time, he tilted his hips up and thrust with force. Once he was completely seated inside me, he ground his pelvis against my clit. Tingles shot up my spine and danced across my scalp. I met his growl with a groan as he began to move. It wasn’t the nervous-jackhammer-rabbit sex that I was used to, but an erotically charged, soul-devouring slow dance.
“God, yes,” I panted. Zacharias Wylde was as dangerously elegant in bed as he was out of it. I, on the other hand, was a starving woman who hadn’t seen a penis in over two years. He was the turtle, and I was the hare, except, in this case, the hare was going to get off first.
“So beautiful.” His reverent tone brought the orgasm screaming to the surface.
His mouth moved to my neck. At the same time he pressed his thumb against my clit and pounded me with his perfect cock, he sank his fangs into the side of my neck. I shattered on a scream of blinding pleasure.
And to think—that was just the beginning.
The man had stamina. As in, I’d already had three orgasms before he had his first. He was a sex god, and I was his devout worshipper. He had me on my back, on my knees, and on my side while I rode him three different ways—ways I didn’t even know were possible.
Around midnight, I was officially tapped out. Not only was I running out of blood, but I’d orgasmed more times than should be humanly possible. I was also hungry and in need of a major recovery nap.
Zack left me lounging in bed while he raided the kitchen. He returned carrying a tray filled with three kinds of gourmet cheese, two types of salami, a bowl of grapes, and a sleeve of crackers.
I wanted to ask him about Victoria but didn’t know how to approach it, so instead, I asked about the house. He called it his haven; the place he came to when he needed to get away. I could see why.
Finally, not able to stand it any longer, I just came right out and said, “You and Victoria were lovers, weren’t you?” I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. Tough, the bitch almost killed me. “She almost killed me, Zack. If you hadn’t heard me screaming for you—”
“You’re right,” he cut in. “Victoria and I were lovers.” My heart sank. “Two decades ago.”
Wait, what? Did he say two decades? “Twenty years ago, Victoria showed up in Charleston. The master of her former seethe was a sadist. She broke from him and sought refuge with the SVO. I had no choice but to take her in. Not long after that, we became lovers. It was a mistake. She wanted things I wasn’t willing to give her. She didn’t take it well when I ended our liaison. I urged her to find another seethe, I even went as far as to relocate her, but she convinced me to let her stay.”
It was then that it clicked. “She’s done this to you before.”
“His sigh said it all. “Once before.”
“With a human?”
He shook his head. “Another vampire.”
I started to ask if the vamp was still alive when his phone rang. It was Tobias. The hospital called. Tamara was awake and asking for me.
After scrounging up some of Selma’s clothes for me to wear, we drove to my apartment—this time in a BMW Alpina—for me to change and grab my gun. On the way there, I filled him in on what I’d learned about Jessie. When I suggested we stop and question Jessie, Zack had the nerve to say he would handle it. This, of course, led to an argument.
“You do realize what I do for a living.”
He shot me a sideways glare. “You do realize you’re human.”
I glared back at him. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that I can handle myself.” His lack of response infuriated me. By the time we reached my apartment, we were no longer speaking to each other.
Once the shock at discovering that I had a new bed, rug, nightstands, and lamps wore off, it took me ten minutes to get ready. On the way out the door, I snagged my phone from the charger.
Right as we entered Tamara’s hospital room, the ants started crawling. I immediately clocked the vampire sitting at her bedside. Stupid Diana. I knew better than to walk into a strange room with my shields down. Time to get your head out of sexville and back into the game.
Zack stepped inside the room and paused. “Gunter, I’m surprised to see you here.”
So this was Gunter. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a disapproving scowl on his face.
Gunter took one look at us, and whispered, “What have you done?”
Zack tensed beside me. “Now is not the time.”
The chair scraped across the floor as Gunter pushed to his feet. “You banished Victoria—for this?”
“Stop, Gunter,” Zack growled.
Wow, Gunter was a dick. And what did he mean by banished?
Gunter’s eyes flashed red. “I can smell her on you. What’s even worse is that I can smell you on her.”
Whoa, seriously? Neither of us had time to shower, but damn, that’s just TMI.
Zack was beside me one minute and the next he was across the room and all up in Gunter’s business. Whispered words were shared before Zack turned and motioned for me to go ahead.
Ignoring Gunter’s glare, I exited the room. Wow, he really didn’t like me.
Poor Tamara looked awful. Her face was gaunt, her skin sallow, her hair a mess of tangles. Hundreds of bite marks covered her face, neck, and arms. Something horrible had happened to this woman. Her eyes opened. She let out a surprised gasp when
she saw me standing there.
“Hey, Tamara, I’m Diana Duvail. I hear you’ve been asking for me.” Panic hit her face, and I grabbed her hand to help calm her. The moment our hands touched, a large cavernous room flashed inside my head. It was filled with vampires—drooling, mindless vampires. They were hanging from the ceiling and crawling across the floor like bugs. As the bile raced up my throat, I quickly released her hand, instantly severing the connection, and took a step back. Holy shit, what was that?
“You have to save them.” Her ravaged voice made me flinch.
“Save who?” I asked.
“The other girls.”
“Can you tell me where they are?”
“Underground somewhere, I don’t know.” She started crying.
I reached for her hand again, then thought twice about it, and patted her arm instead. “Hey, we’re going to figure this out, okay. “Can you tell me about Jessie?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Okay, well, just so you know, I spoke with Anya and Naya. They said that Jessie took you to SangreLa. What happened after that?”
Her eyes widened with fear. “Please don’t tell that I went there. It’s against the code.”
“I won’t,” I lied. “It’ll be our little secret.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “Jessie wanted to go to SangreLa. His friend, Ernie, owns it, so he gets us in for free.”
“Us?” I asked.
“Whoever he’s with. That night it was just me. I had a lot to drink. At some point, I started to feel dizzy, like the room was spinning. I must have blacked out because I woke up in the dark. I couldn’t see anything.”
“What can you tell me about the room?”
“It smelled horrible. The floor felt like dirt, and I wasn’t alone. Other girls were there with me.” She pointed to the pitcher of water. As I poured her a glass, I thought about how hard to push. The last thing I wanted was to cause her more trauma.
“You’re doing great,” I said, handing her the water.
Wicked Love Page 71
