A Vampire's Soft Embrace: A Paranormal Romance (Blood Rose Time Travel Novella Series Book 1)

by Caris Roane

  He even knew the porn site she preferred, which had been fodder for his fantasies over the past two months. Iris, of course, played the lead.

  He really was just this side of stalking.

  Hell, who was he kidding? He was stalking Iris, though to be fair he had no intention of ever intruding into her life.

  An owl swooped down on her suddenly, then took up his usual perch in the huge tree at the back of her yard.

  Her melodious voice hit the air once more. “Hello, Sebastien.” He could hear Iris laughing and talking with the owl, her pet, or muse or whatever it was witches used to conjure shit.

  When his com buzzed for the second time, he swiftly rose another thirty feet in the air then pressed the button. “Connor.”

  “Talking pretty quiet. You on a stake-out?”

  He recognized Lily’s voice and some of the tension eased out of him. Lily worked dispatch, manning the phones and passing out assignments. “Trying not to attract notice.”

  “So, who is she?”

  The question startled him. He didn’t think anybody knew what he did between calls. Shit.

  Then he realized Lily was fishing. “A beautiful Honda Scrambler, 1973.” Half true. He’d started to collect Café Racers, the older, the better.

  He heard Lily snort. “You men and your machines. Okay, listen up. This comes from the chief. We’ve got a runner out at Amado Bridge and he wants you on it.”

  Connor frowned. He didn’t usually work the dead-talker end of vampire territory. “Isn’t that Jason’s section?”

  “Jason’s MIA, has been for two nights now, and the chief is about ready to explode.”

  Unusual for Jason to be missing, but he was a Border Patrol officer and sometimes the men needed to go on a bender just to survive. “He’ll turn up, but his head won’t feel too good.”

  Lily laughed. “I totally agree and to answer your next question, yes, Easton was adamant you take this call.”

  No point arguing about any decision the chief made. “I’m on it.”

  He took off, heading north in the direction of Crescent Territory, wondering what the hell he would find this time. He touched the hilt of his half-sword and thumbed the holster of his Glock. He wore black leather wrist guards lined with steel, a black tank, leathers, and heavy boots. He was ready.

  Amado Bridge. He scowled. One of the worst terrains for a runner to attempt to take drugs into the human world.

  His instincts lit up. Jason was missing, a runner was out at Amado and Easton wanted him on the assignment.

  A sick feeling started crawling around his gut. This call already stunk and it was only midnight. Great.

  ~ ~ ~

  At the same moment Iris felt Connor take off, her cell rang. She fished it from her jeans pocket and saw that the Tribunal was calling. She frowned because she wasn’t working tonight, and she had a dozen orders to fill. Her job as a TPS officer barely paid the bills so she supplemented her income by creating special potions. Using a human dealer, she had her products selling at high prices in the various malls and specialty stores around Phoenix. She was doing well.

  She touched the phone face. “Meldeere.”

  “Sorry, Sweetie, but Donaldson wants you out at Amado Bridge.” Faith doled out the assignments through the night and had a calming effect with the officers. “Know where that is?”

  “Northwest Crescent Territory.”

  “Right.”

  Iris frowned. “But I’m not on duty.”

  “I told his royal highness as much, but his face turned red, you know in that fucked up wizard way of his. He then let a few choice words fly. I tossed up both my hands and said I’d give you a shout.”

  Donaldson was a prick, no question about that. He was also corrupt as hell, so already Iris was uneasy. Corruption tended to lead to the three drug-lords in Five Bridges. But her fingers were squeaky clean so she couldn’t imagine why any of them would send her out there. “What’s the crime?”

  “Some Border Patrol officer has gone berserk. Donaldson wants it documented and you have permission to take the BP’s ass out if you find him abusing the perp, which would be awesome.”

  Crescent Territory was home to the alter vampires, which meant all Crescent Border Patrol officers were vampires.

  Iris chuckled. She liked Faith. “You’re not being very politically correct. We’re supposed to honor all five species. Didn’t you get the memo?”

  “What-the-fuck-evuh. Do us proud. Got another call.”

  Iris put her phone back and started stripping off her smock. With her Sig Sauer clipped to her belt, she headed to her garage and revved up her TPS motorcycle. It was a big, heavy Harley-Davidson police cruiser, a bike fit for carting her around all five territories, including No Man’s Land. She wished she could fly like some of the more powerful vampire officers and a couple of the witches who served in Elegance’s Border Patrol. She didn’t have the gift of levitation, at least not yet. Maybe one day, if she lived long enough.

  But she liked the bike, even though it was more machine than she needed. Although, it worked well for the bigger male bodies on the TPS force.

  As she headed out, taking her quiet street at a low rumble, she wondered why she’d been called to Amado Bridge when there were at least a dozen witches and wizards on duty right now at the Trib station.

  ~ ~ ~

  Connor had a flame-runner in his sights, an emaciated female with the telltale marks of drug-use blazing on her neck. He could see the tattoo-like flames. Hers were dark red, so he knew which cocktail she’d been using to get her head swimming: blood flame.

  Because she was drug-running, he had every right as a Border Patrol officer to put a bullet in the back of her head. All three drug-lords preferred it as well. Prevented snitching.

  But he never pulled the trigger unless he knew exactly what he was dealing with. He’d learned his lesson the hard way. Guilt still clawed at him, ripping him apart on a nightly basis, even though the incident was over nine-years-old now. He shuddered as the memory tried to push to the front of his head, but he shoved it back.

  He levitated with long practice, his head bent slightly, arm raised as he gazed down his sights. Jesus, the woman was clawing her way up the steep side of the wash, weighed down by a loaded runner jacket. She must not have known the area.

  So what was she doing out here? Runners by occupation were sneaky bastards, using tunnels that often collapsed on them to get from the cordoned off area of Five Bridges to Phoenix. The flame drugs, as well as the alter serums that could be added to the drugs, had transformed a fifteen square mile section of North Phoenix into five territories, each partitioned from the next with barbed wire then separated from Phoenix in the same way. The National Guard patrolled the external border of the entire circumference of Five Bridges.

  He worked the internal border of Crescent Territory, trying to keep any of the numerous flame drugs from leaving Five Bridges.

  That same sick feeling crawled through his stomach again.

  He touched his shoulder com. “I’ve got eyes on the runner at Amado Bridge, but she’s a pretty weak female. Shall I bring her in?” Maybe Easton would want a say in this tonight.

  When he got no answer on his shoulder com, he tried again.

  And again.

  He’d been disconnected.

  Yeah. Something was off.

  The runner was the key. And like hell he was going to serve as some asshole’s assassin, even if it was Easton himself who wanted the woman dead.

  He holstered his gun and cursed. He needed to have a talk with her.

  Levitating swiftly, he shot through the air. Gauging the distance, he caught her jacket at the back of the neck and lifted her up. She screamed as he carried her flailing to the upper edge of the wash and flung her into the dirt.

  “What are you doing out here, runner?”

  The woman didn’t move. She lay face down, one hand digging into the weeds. Her head was inches away from a stand of prickly p
ear.

  She mumbled something, but he couldn’t hear her.

  “Say again? You sound like you have rocks in your mouth.”

  She lifted her head up. “Just kill us. We’ll both be better off.”

  “Us?” He drew his gun again, holding it in both hands. He bent his knees and pivoted in a 360. Nothing. Except a witch on the bridge watching him. He stopped the moment he saw the woman. Why was she there?

  Then he recognized the familiar dark ponytail. Holy fuck, it was Iris, but what was she doing on Amado Bridge?

  He turned his attention back to the runner. “I don’t see anyone else. Who’s ‘us’, Ma’am? You got someone out here running with you?”

  “Yes, but you’re looking in the wrong place.”

  She wasn’t making sense. Blood flame had no doubt screwed with her mind.

  “I’ll ask again; where’s your friend?”

  “Here.”

  Glancing down, he watched her turn on her side. She held her arm at the bottom of the coat, pressing it against her body.

  When he saw the bulge of her stomach, his mind flipped over several times. The memory he’d been trying to suppress shot forward once more of another woman running flame.

  Connor had killed her, shot her in the chest as she turned, gun in hand and pointed straight at him. He hadn’t hesitated.

  But the gun had been taped to her wrist and she couldn’t have fired it if she’d wanted to. A set-up.

  She’d also been pregnant, just like this one.

  Darkness swirled through his head, a familiar creeping of more regrets than any man should have to bear. He’d killed her and others equally as innocent over the years until his soul was as dark as night. The flame drugs had been at the bottom of it all. He’d gone through the change and become something he despised.

  “You gonna shoot, or what?”

  Coming back to himself, he shook his head then holstered his Glock.

  Five Bridges had worn him down to the marrow. But right now he knew something sinister was going on, directed at him and involving a drug addict lying in the dirt.

  He shifted toward Iris. Was she involved in some way? Had she set him up? As a TPS officer, she had access to a lot of important people. The Tribunal was the combined government for all five species and held sway over each of the five separate territories as well as their individual border patrols.

  It wasn’t a question he could answer right now, so he shifted back to the runner and extended a hand down to her. She eyed it as though it would turn into a snake any second.

  “Come on. I haven’t got all night. Let’s get you out of here. You’re not dying on my watch.”

  He didn’t kill women, at least not on purpose, and he definitely didn’t take out a woman with a belly full of child.

  “I can’t move.” She tried to sit up, but flopped back in the dirt.

  Whatever energy she’d possessed had been used up trying to scale the fairly steep side of the wash.

  He dipped down and picked her up in his arms, cradling her. She weighed next to nothing. “What’s your name?”

  “Tammy. Where are you taking me?”

  “The clinic.”

  She turned her face against his chest and damn him if she didn’t start weeping against his tank.

  But as he rose into the air, he glanced once more at Iris. She had her pistol pointed at him, head bent slightly, probably checking her sights.

  Though the clinic was the opposite direction, he flew toward her. She slowly lowered her gun.

  By the time he reached the bridge, her eyes were wide, her lips parted. “Officer Connor.”

  “Officer Meldeere. What the fuck are you doing out here?” He might be obsessed with her and he’d definitely engaged in way too many fantasies about her, but she was still a witch with a gun.

  “Got a call that some Border Patrol officer was out of control near Amado Bridge.”

  “Do I look out of control?”

  Her gaze fell to the woman. “No. You don’t.”

  “Guess you won’t be shooting me, then.”

  She shook her head. She looked amazing, a flush on her cheeks. Her eyes glittered as she stared at him.

  If he didn’t know better …

  Fuck this. He whipped around and flew swiftly toward the clinic. He had to find some damn way of getting Iris out of his head.

  He just didn’t know how.

  He also needed to find out who had sent Tammy drug-running in the western sector of his territory.

  ~ ~ ~

  Iris holstered her Sig. Her arms and legs trembled but it wasn’t from fear. Damn Connor. He’d just proven himself all over again, helping a woman like that.

  And she’d forgotten how blue his eyes were.

  She could hardly breathe and all she’d done was look at him and exchange about a half-dozen words. He wore the usual black tank, so his tattoos stood out like beacons. He was heavily muscled like all the Border Patrol men. How many times had she wondered if both hands together would fit around one of his biceps?

  Fortunately, now that he was no longer next to her, she could think again. She looked around. On Trib orders, she’d left her garden, her owl and the potions she needed to make to fill her orders, but for what? She didn’t get it. Why had Donaldson wanted her witnessing Connor’s supposed crime?

  The situation was just weird enough to force her to ask the harder questions: Who had really sent her out to Amado Bridge? And if the purpose had been to kill Connor, then why? And why her?

  She turned the key in her bike and revved up her Harley once more. She took off, loving the strong vibrations on her bottom as she swept onto the street, heading toward Del Muerto Bridge. Del Muerto was one of the five main bridges of her world and connected Crescent with the dead-talker province of Shadow Territory.

  With her long hair in a ponytail, she enjoyed the feel of the night wind as she moved along. She only had to head over to the Tribunal building and fill out a report, then she could return to her workroom.

  In the meantime, she loved riding.

  When she was well into the land of dead-talkers, whipping through some backstreets and racing over several smaller bridges, her com buzzed. She pressed her shoulder transmitter. “Meldeere.”

  She heard Faith’s voice. “We’ve got a … out on Sentinel Bridge. The … Donal … wants you … now.”

  She repressed a sigh. The Tribunal meant well, but dammit, couldn’t they invest in a decent com system? “Say again?”

  After three more repeated requests, she finally got the gist. There was some kind of incident on Sentinel Bridge which connected Connor’s Territory and hers.

  And once more, the chief wanted her out there. She almost asked Faith why, but figured she’d get the same response.

  “On my way.”

  “Say …” More static then a lot of broken up words.

  Iris shut off her com with a heavy eye-roll and put on some speed.

  “Well, Violet, what do you think?” She tended to talk to her sister when she was out on patrol.

  But the spontaneous question, took her straight back to the wind that had blown through her workroom and hearing Violet’s voice in her head. Tears burned her eyes. Violet had been buried a long time ago, but for Iris, the memory was as sharp as yesterday.

  Thinking about her sister, however, brought the past surging forward. Several months after their shared alter, Violet had gone to work at a sandwich shop in downtown Elegance. Without warning, she and a dozen other witches had been abducted by a number of drugged out vampires. They’d been hauled out to a place called No Man’s Land, also known as the Graveyard.

  The vampires had been out of control and hyped up on blood flame. The witches’ hands had been bound to prevent the witch death touch. The women had been stabbed, choked, raped and drained to death.

  The Tribunal investigation had gone on for years but died its own death some time later. It had been buried in the Trib’s paperwork morgue, no doubt at
the request of one of the drug-lords.

  No closure for nine years, just pain.

  She traversed yet another small bridge, the bike thump-thumping at the entrance and exit.

  The world of Five Bridges had about a hundred bridges scattered throughout the ripped up territory of north-central Phoenix, most of them short and only one lane wide. Long ditches crisscrossed the land, a final containment solution to the ongoing drug and human trafficking problem that had accompanied the flame revolution. The hundreds of ditches were as difficult to traverse as they were completely ineffective in stemming the export of flame drugs to the human world.

  Many of the original homes in this part of Phoenix now served the citizens of Five Bridges. But at least half had been blasted away and the pits left to grow whatever the desert could manage. Or they’d been dozed out even more to create rows of ditches hard to navigate on foot. A lot of cactus took root in these places. Rattlesnakes and vermin set up camp in droves. Coyotes, too. More bridges were built, some as short as seven feet.

  Five Bridges essentially had the look of a war zone, especially with barbed wire separating each of the five territories from each other as well as from Phoenix. There were a few beauty spots in some of the renovated areas or in backyards like her own. Otherwise, it was a place that looked like bombs were detonated on a regular basis and the rubble left to sprout any weed or grass that would survive without much water.

  There were, however, five main bridges, hence the name for the cesspool she lived in. Sentinel was one of them, the bridge she was headed to now. It was the long, main bridge connecting Crescent with her witch world of Elegance. It also intersected with the human world as all five bridges did, in a T layout. It still amazed Iris that any human would want to come to Five Bridges. But then most who did were looking for drugs or sex, the latter the second most important source of revenue for the poorer residents.

  Now there was an unspecified incident on Sentinel Bridge.