by Tina Donahue
Until now.
Gerri, what have you gotten me into?
His head swam, need battering him, followed by ruthless lust. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore Desiree’s physical gifts the bite hadn’t taken away. He guessed her to be late twenties, thirty at most, her lush curves calling to the man and animal within him, her boobs ripe, hips lavish, legs long and shapely. Musk deepened her light, flowery scent, bringing to mind a spring day filled with life, death nowhere near. She wore an elegant black dress trimmed in blue, but was barefoot, a thin gold chain hugging her ankle. He wanted to touch the jewelry and suck her toes, liking the deep-red polish on her nails.
Brutal longing tore through him, snatching his breath. He caught inadequate air, trying to calm down. To concentrate on the job at hand.
Wasn’t going to happen. She, alone, interested him. In high heels, he guessed she’d be five-eleven or so, a perfect complement to his six-four.
“Sweetie, please.” She touched the screen. “This isn’t your fault. If he…”
Tresses as dark as midnight swept over her shoulder, her hair thick and glossy, the color accentuating her creamy complexion, an ivory shade not deadly white.
The caller sobbed, her breaths hitching.
Desiree glanced at him.
His heart paused. Energy arced between them, the same as earlier, tightening his balls and making his skin burn. Even a Taser didn’t have as much power.
Her eyes were unearthly, a pale blue he could only describe as sheer or see-through, surrounded by sooty lashes.
A pained sound poured from her caller. “What do I do?”
She focused on the girl.
Hunter lost what breath he still had and sagged in his chair. Never in a zillion years would he have believed a vampiress could unglue him to the point he’d want to lose restraint, drag her to the floor, and mount her until time ended. Or she bit him.
Somehow, he didn’t think she would. Tears welled in her amazing eyes at her caller’s despair. Why anyone would want to harm Desiree was beyond comprehension. She deserved love and the finest life granted.
Not that she’d get it if he kept drooling over her rather than offering his protection.
Resolved to give her his best effort, he read the first letter.
Bitch!
I’ll destroy you if it’s the last thing I do. You had NO right to take Zander from me. He is MINE.
I saw how you threw yourself at him and keep doing so, even mentioning him on your stupid show. You’ll pay for what you said, and don’t think he’ll keep you safe from me. I’m going to tear you apart when you least expect it, whether it’s in that dump you hole up in or when you’re outside. The night can’t protect you, nor can the day.
Every minute, I’ll be waiting to pounce. Your end won’t be easy. I will make you suffer, as you never have, and then I’ll finish you off with you begging for mercy that I’ll never give.
Jesus. And here everyone thought men were the ones hounded by anger management issues. They had nothing on Brooke. Hunter rubbed his mouth and looked at the next letter, or rather picture. She’d Photoshopped Desiree’s publicity shot, not only decapitating her but gouging out her eyes so the brick wall behind her showed through her skull. She then topped off those goodies with a thick stake speared through Desiree’s heart.
From what he’d heard about vampires, the stake thing was a Hollywood invention. If someone truly wanted to off a bloodsucker, they had to use an axe to decapitate their victim, boil the head in acid or vinegar, then bury it where two roads intersected. Or, they could drive nails through the eyes and temples, remove the heart, cut it in two, then feed the remains to jackals. Or…
He didn’t want to consider the myriad ways Desiree might meet her fate.
Soldiering on, he read another note.
Saw you in Whole Foods this afternoon. Are you sure you should have bought so much chocolate? Who’s going to eat it when you’re nothing but dirt, or rather sludge beneath everyone’s shoes?
Maybe I’ll enjoy the candy when I take over your show and tell your poor listeners what a skank you really are. How you whore around, stealing other women’s men. What a bang hole you have, what…
He couldn’t read further and pulled out his smartphone. Brooke might have been a woman scorned, but she wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, having signed each note using her full name.
A quick search on Facebook brought up the Brooke Ayers he sought, her nasty comments about Desiree After Dark giving her away.
She listed her status as “in a relationship.” Several posts insisted she was in a fully committed union with the only man she’d ever love.
Regrettably, none showed Zander’s photo, nor did he have a Facebook page. Smart guy.
Brooke, on the other hand, laid out her life in gory detail. Her interests included fucking, screwing, and extreme BDSM with her guy.
Hunter frowned. Surely, Desiree wasn’t into the pain-is-pleasure shit.
He brought up Brooke’s photos, surprised—yet not—at her cold beauty. It matched the crap she’d written. She appeared close to Desiree’s age, her long hair auburn, skin fair, eyes a deep green, mouth pouty as if something displeased her or she had trouble hiding her fangs. Even though she hadn’t given away her para status, she reeked vampire.
On the slender side, her small rack and narrow hips did nothing for him. Apparently, not for Zander either if he’d chosen Desiree instead.
She couldn’t have come on to him as Brooke had claimed.
Although Hunter should have pored over Desiree’s Facebook page to get as much info on her as possible, he couldn’t. Whatever he learned about her, he wanted her to offer the details, as one friend would to another. Without trust, he couldn’t adequately protect her.
Without friendship between them, nothing else was possible.
He scoured the net for anything and everything on Zander and Brooke. Zander proved a cipher. Even ordinary folks had some personal details on the net. He had zip. Brooke was a fountainhead of minutia, right down to her favorite designer pumps and which Jenner she liked best. It wasn’t Caitlyn.
Maybe if Brooke had gotten a real life, she wouldn’t have fallen for Zander, been turned, then gone batshit crazy about Desiree.
“I’m through.” She turned off her computer and faced him. “Ask me anything you want.” She crossed her arms. “I’ll answer as best I can.”
He would have preferred she not assume such a defensive stance but wasn’t about to call her on it. “Read your fan mail.” He lifted Brooke’s messages.
Desiree cringed.
If she’d still been mortal, he bet she would have also blushed, and he wondered, again, about her warm skin when they’d shaken hands. Being undead, she should have been icy to the touch.
Not that he was complaining.
She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I hope you know what Brooke said in those notes is a damn lie.”
He was counting on it, but still had to ask. “Which part?”
Indignation flashed on her face. “Excuse me?” She leaned forward and spoke through her teeth. “All of it. I did not throw myself at Zander, ever.”
“I didn’t think you had.”
Her frown faded, eyes growing wide in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“There’s no reason for me to lie to you. I’m here to help.”
Her mouth trembled. “Yeah, I know.” She slumped. “The truth is, the prick seduced me. To him, ruining my life was nothing but a damn game when I thought he really cared. That he…” She shook her head, regret and pain in her eyes.
Her anguish reached Hunter’s soul. He longed to gather her in his arms and offer comfort but figured she wouldn’t believe or appreciate it. Maybe when they were no longer strangers… “I take it he’s the one who turned you.”
She gave him a “well, duh” look. “Who else?”
“Just asking. Do you date vamps as a rule?”
“No.” She wrinkled her
nose. “I thought he was mortal. He was freaking warm to the touch. I swear I heard a heartbeat, or thought I had.”
“How is that possible?”
“You’re asking me?” She pushed back. “I’m new at this shit. It’s only been nine months, and I’m already losing my mind. But I do know I’m not cold. Here. Feel.” She put out her hand.
If kissing her palm wouldn’t have alarmed her, he would have. Instead, he stroked it.
Her lids fluttered.
That and her silky-smooth skin tingled his scalp. “Must be an anomaly. Maybe a genetic mutation. Where’s Zander now?”
“How should I know?” She hung her head. “Once he turned me, the SOB took off. Out to conquer new victims, I suppose.”
Cocksucker. Hunter wanted to tear him apart for taking Desiree’s life and future, using her kind heart to con her as guys often did to women. “Are you managing okay with…?” He couldn’t find the right words to ask for details on how she fed.
She lifted her face. “With being a bloodsucker? No, but it’s something I have to live with.”
He nodded.
She stared. “Just so you know, I’m not going to drain you dry, all right?”
“I never thought you would.” Again, her goodness shone through. “Do you buy plasma from blood banks?”
“Ew. No.” She shivered. “I refuse to drink the stuff no matter the urge.”
“Forgive me for asking, but how do you survive?”
“Potions and spells.” She shrugged. “Even before Zander turned me, I had several witch friends. Whenever I crave blood, they do what they can. The incantations and brews aren’t permanent though. Something within me keeps evolving to defeat them, pushing me closer to an undead state.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her eyes grew wet. She swiped at them then grew distant again. “No need. They’re my BFFs and will do whatever it takes to keep me from hurting anyone. Not that I would. I’d prefer to die first…if I could.” She grinned sardonically. “Who knows, maybe Brooke will come to my rescue and—”
“Fuck that shit. Do not say that ever.” His voice shook from emotion. “Don’t even think it, understand?” He hated getting hardcore on her, but he didn’t like defeatist talk, especially when it came to her existence.
She matched his glare. “May I remind you, I’m the client here. If I decide to hire you.”
“Say the word and I’ll leave.” Once he was outside, he’d wait and watch on his own without her ever knowing. He was that far gone.
Anger drained from her, replaced by embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t want you to leave…that is, you don’t have to.”
He didn’t like how she used words to distance herself from him, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it except wait until she came around. “Apology accepted. Would you rather call the police and report Brooke to them?”
“Think they’ll help?”
Not the ones he knew. They’d minimize the problem, claiming it was a catfight between women and to let it run its course. “Do you honestly want my protection? We have to be partners in this for it to work.”
She opened her mouth then shut it and gestured to the letters. “I want her gone. Not as in annihilated but leaving me alone. Can you talk to her?”
“Now it’s my turn to ask if you’d think it would do any good.”
“Probably not.” Desiree chewed her thumb. “Given how she wants Zander, or maybe any man, she might come on to you. Oh my God.” She straightened, terror on her face. “She might turn you. Uh-uh.” She waved her hands. “Stay away from her, please.”
“You’re worrying for nothing. I can take care of myself.”
“Have you ever battled a vampire?”
Although reluctant to say, he couldn’t lie. “No. But every being, even paras, have their Achilles’s heel, so to speak.”
“And a vampiress’s is? Particularly hers?”
“I’m going to find out.” He leaned closer, resting his arms on his knees. “From what I read in her letters, you like chocolate. Or was that a fabrication on her part?”
“It’s the truth. Since being turned, I crave it more than I did when I was mortal.” Her weak smile made her look sadder. “I guess that’s a perk in being a vamp. I can eat as much as I want now and don’t gain an ounce.”
Even if she had, it would have only made her more perfect. “So, I take it since you enjoy chocolate, you can eat other things, too?”
“If I want.” Confusion touched her eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Your show’s over for the evening. I’m hungry. I’d like to discuss your case while we have dinner…if you don’t mind.”
She glanced at the wall clock. “It’s late.”
“I know this great restaurant that caters to paras. Humans, too, if they wander in. New Moon stays open until three. Unless you have an early morning.”
“I don’t.” She regarded him, attraction in her eyes.
His insides made a funny twist, sending more heat and desire to his balls and cock. “Then we’re on?”
She averted her gaze. “I need to ask you something first. When you mentioned me having an early morning, you were trying to find out if the sun bothers me, but didn’t want to come out and say it, right?”
Not even close. Whether daylight bothered her or not wasn’t his most pressing consideration, her eyes and mouth captivating him, sending his pulse into a dangerous sprint. “Does it?”
“No. Another thing that fooled me about Zander. I met him during the day at an Apple store. However, I’ve always preferred the night.”
Hunter did, too. He stood and offered his hand. “Let’s get to know each other better.”
Carnal hunger flickered in her eyes followed by caution that remained. A long moment passed.
He worried she’d finally tell him to get lost.
“Let me get my shoes and bag.” She slipped on her heels, becoming as tall as he’d predicted. Ideal for him. Except for holding her purse rather than taking his hand.
Two
The moment Desiree opened her front door, Hunter grasped her upper arm and pulled her into him, her butt against his rigid cock.
She expected him to rush past to ward off Brooke.
He remained, arm snug around her waist, holding her close.
Desire cascaded through her, tightening her throat, not allowing her to speak.
Words weren’t what she wanted. Lids slipping down, she sagged against him, ready for anything he intended to give or demanded from her. His alpha male and inner panther weren’t something she feared. Deep within, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, at least deliberately, his forceful presence encouraging her to yield.
His sweet, warm breath glided over her cheek, his stubble rasping her skin.
Her thoughts grew muzzy, stark need replacing everything else.
He fitted his mouth to her ear. “Whenever we’re outside this apartment, I go first to make certain the area is safe for you. That’s protocol you can’t break. Understood?”
Her spirits fell on each word. His job and her protection fueled his proximity, rather than his passion for her. She should have known as much, but then she’d been a fool for Zander who wasn’t half the man Hunter was. Unable to trust her voice enough to hide her embarrassment, she nodded.
“Good.” He brushed his thumb over her arm.
Heat poured through her.
Before the pleasant feeling faded, he guided her to the side and entered the hall, his arm held out to keep her back.
Her legs were already rubbery, not allowing her to move. Even so, from her vantage point there wasn’t anyone prowling nearby.
He regarded each direction and cocked his head.
Listening for something?
Bass thumped from a neighboring apartment. A door slammed in the distance. Muted male conversation and laughter joined the other sounds.
Hunter lifted his face and inhaled deeply.
She caught no
untoward scent to indicate another vampire’s presence and wasn’t even certain what one was supposed to smell like. Zander’s fragrance had been light and crisp, a popular men’s cologne he’d used liberally. Brooke had never been close enough for Desiree to notice anything except the vampiress’s murderous glare. As far as her own scent was concerned, she hadn’t detected a weird odor since being turned. Perhaps another oddity from Zander’s genetic makeup that now festered inside, pushing her to a point where she might one day succumb to a craving for blood.
Shivering at the thought, she hugged herself.
Hunter joined her. “No one’s here. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Easy for him to say. Every time he came close, she grew lightheaded and lost more self-restraint, hungering for his heat and touch. Somehow, she managed to step back. “We should go before she does show up, claws and fangs bared.”
“Has she?”
“Twice as to coming here. Whether she did the other stuff, I don’t know. I was showering when she slipped her messages under my door.”
His face darkened, worry touching his eyes.
Before she gave him a grateful kiss for his concern then begged him to hold, take, and fuck her raw, she closed her door and locked it.
Sticky heat enveloped the night, the soggy air pressing close, making breathing difficult.
He regarded the darkened parking lot, sniffed several times, then strode to a sleek motorcycle rather than following her to the BMW sedan in an adjacent spot.
When she joined him, he offered her his helmet.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I am not riding your bike wearing this.” She gestured to her dress then swung her arm to the side. “My car’s right there.”
“Fine.” He put out his hand. “Keys.”
“You’re driving?”
“Do you know defensive maneuvers if she comes at us in her wheels?”
Hoping things wouldn’t get that far, Desiree dropped her keys in his palm.
