“I can tell from your reaction that you know this man,” female cop said.
“Of course I know him. That’s Brian. He runs security for my boss at the restaurant. What on earth happened to him?”
“I was rather hoping you would be able to shed some light on this, and the criminal damage that occurred that evening.”
Evie’s mouth fell open, and she looked between the two police officers as though they’d lost their mind. Which they must have done, or maybe it was her. She would appear to have lost her memory, after all. Did drinking too much give you amnesia? Then again, had she drunk anything? The woozy feeling in her stomach and the mother of all headaches she’d woken up with would suggest that she had, but Evie hated losing control like that. Besides, booze was expensive, so she wouldn’t…
Evie gave up trying to figure that out because Tom flicked the page, and a grainy CCTV reel popped up. It showed a heavily made-up blonde dressed in nothing but a corset, stockings, and heels, a man’s jacket draped around her shoulders. She was following an impossibly tall, broad-shouldered man, whose face was not visible to the cameras. Brian was there, sneering, and in the next instant, the unknown man was laying into him. In a flash, he disappeared from view and then he was back, picked up the blonde, and disappeared from view.
The camera froze on the young woman’s face, and Evie swallowed hard when she looked into her own, terrified eyes.
“I…that is…what the fuck?”
“Are you still going to pretend you don’t know what happened to Brian?” the female officer asked, and Evie tore her gaze away from that image.
She took another fortifying sip of her coffee and somehow managed to croak a reply past that huge lump in her throat.
“I’m not pretending anything. You can’t think this is me? I don’t—”
“Isn’t it?” Tom interrupted her, and when she glanced at him, that infuriating smirk was back on the man’s lips.
“No, it most certainly isn’t.”
It couldn’t be, could it? Evie mentally crossed her fingers, in case she was lying, but, surely she would remember that. Especially that tall stranger? His presence spoke to her, even through the grainy image. Her heart beat faster, and she had to make a conscious effort to control her breathing. It wouldn’t do to show how much this was affecting her. Her visceral reaction was too confusing, and these two were suspicious enough.
“Are you very sure about that, Miss Prewitt? We can take this to the police station if you prefer.” There was pure ice in the female officer’s voice now, all pretense of sympathy gone. Well, two could play this game.
Evie pushed her shoulders back and rose from her seat as gracefully as she could.
“I told you, that isn’t me, and even if it had been, I didn’t assault Brian. You’re clearly just fishing for information, and your threat is an empty one. Otherwise, you’d have taken me straight in, so…”
She took a deep breath in to calm her nerves and gestured toward the front door at the end of the corridor leading out of the room they were in.
“Please leave, or I will lodge a complaint with your supervisor for police harassment. I know my rights.”
Tom snorted, while the female cop simply regarded her through narrowed eyes.
“Your lot always do,” he said.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Letting go of the cushion she still clutched to her chest, Evie planted her feet wide apart and put her hands on her hips. Adopting a superhero pose was supposed to help you feel more confident—she read that somewhere—and she sure could do with a dose of that right now. None of this made any sense.
“Absolutely nothing, I’m sure, just that you work for Tomlington and that fucker always wriggles out of things. He—”
“That’s enough, Tom. Let’s go.” Female cop interrupted her partner, pulled a card out of her vest, and handed it to Evie.
“If you should miraculously remember anything, those are my contact details. We’ll let ourselves out, thank you, Miss Prewitt.”
Sure enough, they left, and Evie sunk back down on the settee more confused than ever. She was no fan of Brian’s, that’s for sure, but this…
What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Nine
It was a question that haunted Evie for the next few weeks and months since she’d woken up that day with a huge chunk of her life missing. Once the cops had left, and Evie had freshened up and changed, she’d sought out her boss.
He had been tightlipped and told her not to worry. Everything was taken care of, and she should just forget about it all unless she wanted to participate in the games again.
That had only served to confuse Evie further, especially as the boss had looked her up and down and smiled.
“Then again, someone has made sure that you don’t need to. I received the most unusual request.”
“Request?” Evie had croaked that question, sick to the stomach at the certain knowledge that she had clearly participated in these games—whatever they entailed—though her imagination worked just fine. Tomlington went to too much trouble to keep them secret and off the radar for them to be anything but illegal. Plus her bank balance told its own story. The cops hadn’t been lying when they said she’d come into money. Enough for her to start over, if she so chose.
“Yes, my dear. Should you volunteer for the games again, I’m to pay you not to attend, ever.”
Evie had sat down with a thump, and Tomlington had reached across his big desk to pat her hand in almost fatherly manner. That gesture probably had been the most disconcerting of all.
“That makes no sense,” she’d said.
“Not to you maybe, but it does to me. Run along now and don’t worry. This will all blow over, you see.”
Thus dismissed she’d left his office.
Sure enough, life had carried on as it always did. Brian had even made a reappearance—slightly worse for wear and far from his cocky self—but that had been a blessing in disguise as far as Evie had been concerned.
It was almost as though she had dreamt that whole surreal episode, had it not been for the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, and her dreams…
Oh goodness, her dreams.
That faceless stranger starred in every one of her night time fantasies—more and more elaborate scenarios, flashes of scenes, which seemed too real to be simply a figment of her overactive imagination. If that hadn’t been enough, Evie had taken to aimlessly driving around the countryside, following an invisible trail of something so elusive she couldn’t put a finger on it. All she did know that she was inexplicably drawn to the tiniest of villages nestled away on the Suffolk coast. To her knowledge, she had never been here before. There was no mobile reception whatsoever; the high street consisted of one tiny café, a church, a village school, and a corner shop, yet she came back time and time again.
At first, she had simply driven through, parked by the coastal path, and made her way to the beach. She’d spent hours sitting there, staring out at the sea, and inhaling the salty spray. Then she’d ventured forth into the café—they did the best fish and chips ever—and soaked in the atmosphere. The locals were friendly if somewhat bewildered by her presence until she’d explained that she was looking to relocate. Then they had been full of advice on local job opportunities and who had a cheap room to rent.
The tall tales she’d heard about the local estate had given her flutters inside. Apparently, it was haunted, and on the odd occasion she’d driven past the tall forbidden walls, it had certainly looked run down, though someone lived there. More than once she’d seen a car leave, driven by an elderly man in what could only be described as a butler’s uniform. The car itself had blacked-out windows. Clearly, whoever was being chauffeured liked his or her privacy.
Discreet inquiries by her had let nowhere. The records on who owned the mansion and estate were sealed, and the locals had no idea who might live there.
Evie didn’t know why she was so obsessed wi
th this village and the mystery occupant of that mansion, but six months on, her need to know hadn’t abated, not one bit.
“Hey, turn that TV up, will yer? The missus likes his work.”
An ice-cold shiver went down Evie’s spine when she turned to the local news. The TV was always on in the café but folks normally paid it no heed. Not so today. The locals crowded around it in anticipation. Clearly this was concerning the community somehow. Evie rolled her eyes at herself. What had she missed now, while she sat here daydreaming? That’s all she ever seemed to do these days.
“In other news, Sotheby has announced the auction of two previously undiscovered works by local artist Atlan St. James. These two paintings are believed to be his early work and are expected to fetch a record-breaking amount, all proceeds of which are to go to the Suffolk Coastal Restoration Project. The art world is all aflutter at the discovery of these works, which have been donated from a private collection. Simply titled ‘The Past,’ the two stunning opposites of the beauty of the female form show St. James’s intricate and immediately recognizable brush stroke and…”
Evie stopped listening. The cup of cocoa she was in the process of drinking clattered to the floor, spilling its dark, sticky contents all over the linoleum.
The television screen closed in on the two paintings, the unseen voice droning on about the attributes, but Evie wasn’t in the café anymore. She was on the top of the mansion, staring at a clear night sky with Atlan explaining who these two women were.
Heart beating so fast she was in danger of heart failure, Evie rushed out of the café, not caring about the shouts behind her.
She simply started running up the high street and over the fields, tears streaming down her face, as that missing chunk of time came back to her in Technicolor detail, and with it a fury so intense it threatened to consume her.
How fucking dare he?
On and on she ran, driven by instinct, the missing pieces in her heart and soul coming together. Darkness was falling by the time she made it to the side gate. Guarded by the stone statue of an angel, the gate looked rusty, the path overgrown and barely used, but she knew, deep down in her psyche, that she had been here before.
Her very own vampire, the man who’d claimed a huge chunk of her heart, slumbered behind those walls. Now that she was here, was facing the very real possibility that he wouldn’t want her, her anger fled. What right did she have to enter his place? He’d made himself perfectly clear the last time, hadn’t he? Had erased her memory to make sure she’d forget him.
Tomlington’s voice floated into her mind, telling her otherwise.
“He claimed you, that’s all I can say. He can’t have you, but no one else will either.”
Before she could lose her courage, she unlatched the gate and stepped through. The hinges creaked, an owl hooted from somewhere, and the bushes closed behind her in a macabre real-life version of any black-and-white horror film Evie had ever watched.
Her imagination was running away with her, and there was nothing to fear here. Well, nothing bar the blood-eating monster sleeping in the big house.
The minute she thought that, she frowned and shook her head.
No, never a monster. A fucking infuriating, thinking-he-knew-what-was-best-for-her, overbearing, dominant asshole of a man, but never a monster, not to her.
Fuck, she’d fallen in love with a vampire!
* * * *
Atlan woke up much earlier than usual. Bile churned in his gut, and he scowled into space. It had been six months. Admittedly, a mere blink of an eye in his lifespan, but he could beat this. Would have to beat it. Hunger gnawed at his belly, and he swore under his breath as he emptied the pint of blood provided by the vampire -run blood bank into a wine glass and downed the whole lot, mentally thanking Joseph for his foresight in making sure it was on hand.
The stuff tasted vile, full of preservatives, and as tasteless as a ready meal which had been nuked in the microwave, but it kept him alive.
When he’d first sent Evie away, he’d refused to take any nourishment. What was the fucking point, after all? The worry in Agnes’s eyes had finally driven him to eat. Hunting down a human to feed off, or heaven forbid participating in the games, had left a foul taste in his mouth. There was only one woman he would entertain feeding from, and she was out of bounds and far away from him, so the blood bank had been the only option.
Atlan grimaced as the last drop went down his throat. He and a handful of the older vampires were the financial backbones of the vampire bank, so it stood to reason that he should avail himself of their services.
According to the latest report, the scientists were close to a breakthrough. Synthesized blood would solve a hell of a lot of problems for the growing vampire population. No doubt it would taste like shit, but it was preferable to walking corpses being discovered by the unsuspecting public, when this new breed of politically correct, vegan vamps refused to feed on anything until their instincts took over and they killed any unfortunate humans they came across.
Atlan wiped his mouth clean and gave a short laugh.
The world sure had fucking changed and not for the better.
He didn’t feel much more himself after a hot shower, thoughts of his sweet Evie filling his mind to such a degree that he’d jerked off under the spray. Not that it had helped much. His control was slipping, dangerously so.
The perimeter alarm went off the as he stalked down the stairs, and a white-faced Joseph shot out of the office that served as the communication hub for his state-of-the-art security system.
“Who is it this time? More drunk teenagers egging each other on to see the ghost?” Atlan ran a hand through his hair and froze. He didn’t need Joseph’s careful shake of the head to know this was someone else. The fine hair rising on the back of his neck, the ache in his fangs, and the hollow feeling in his gut told their own story, as did the faint scent in the air. The sweet, alluring, fresh scent of his saving angel.
“How is that possible?” He didn’t really expect an answer from his old retainer, who looked as baffled as him, but Agnes’s reply took the wind out of his sails.
“I told you, she’s different. I told you she’ll find her way back. Now stop being a stubborn old fool, and go meet her halfway. The girl could do herself an injury out there in the dark. I’ll go and put the kettle on. Joseph, you’re with me.”
His butler’s goldfish impressions would have been comical in other circumstances, but Atlan’s sense of humor had left the building long ago. He waved the other man away, yanked open his front door, closed his eyes, and followed the scent of home. He was on her in seconds, her soft curves colliding with him when he stepped around one of the many statues that littered his garden.
Evie shrieked, and then went soft and pliant in his arms when she realized it was him.
“What the hell are you doing here, Evie?”
Even to his own ears, his voice sounded rough, scratchy, a feeble excuse for the authority he was going for. He needed to keep ahold of his emotions.
Evie snorted, put her hands on his chest, and pushed him away. The moon chose that moment to peek out from behind the clouds, illuminating her delicate features. She’d been crying, judging by the red rims around her eyes, and Atlan reached for her to offer comfort.
“Don’t you dare touch me. I’ve had enough of your memory-erasing tricks to last me a fucking lifetime. How dare you do that? How bloody dare you take me back without so much as by your leave, and what is all that bullshit with the money? And not letting me take part in any more games and…umph.”
By god she was magnificent, all fired up like this. Eyes sparking, face flushed, her sweet blood a siren call beating its rhythm at the base of her throat, yet she was so much more to him. His hopes, his dreams for any kind of future, all wrapped up in one glorious bundle of jeans-clad curves stood in front of him, berating him. Atlan did the only thing he could do—shut her up by kissing her.
She fought him at first, yanking h
is hair and trying to kick his groin. That was easily dealt with by lifting her clean off the floor and pinning her against the nearest tree while he ravaged her mouth, drank in her very essence, willing her to submit to him.
When she did, with a small sound at the back of her throat, everything changed. The world tumbled around them and realigned. Evie clung to him, pushed her tits into his chest, and brought her legs around his waist, imprisoning him to her as effectively as he had her. How long they stayed locked in this kiss, he would never know. Eventually, he lifted his lips of hers and ran his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply of her scent, her erratic breathing music to his ears. Her thundering heartbeat called him to claim his girl once and for all.
His fangs ran out with a loud click, and Evie shivered in his arms.
“Damn you…I missed you.”
Her breathless words urged him on, especially as she bucked her hips against him. Evie tilted her head to the side in a wordless invitation he couldn’t have resisted had his life depended on it.
“You have no idea, my sweet girl.”
He lifted his head to study her, and his gut churned at the tears he saw in her eyes. He kissed the moisture of her face, and Evie sighed in pleasure.
“Don’t send me away again, please. I can’t bear it. I need you.”
She yanked hard at his hair when he smiled and thumped his back.
“I mean it. You don’t get to decide this. Besides, it didn’t work. I found you again, so your mumbo-jumbo mind control shit doesn’t work on me, does it?”
Atlan pulled back to study her, and his whole being lit up in hope at what he saw in her eyes.
“So, it would seem, my sweet.”
Triumph gleaned in the deep pools of her eyes, to be replaced by a sliver of uncertainty when he flashed his elongated canines at her.
“You do know what this means, right?”
Sold [The Vampire Games 1] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 8
