As he lay staring up at the ceiling, his hands pillowed behind his head, he wondered how he might have reacted if Samantha had told him.
He likely would not have believed her. He might even have thought her totally crazy.
The insane thing was, he probably would have ignored that craziness because…Samantha intrigued him. She presented such a competent and able facade, but within, she was still badly wounded. It was those wounds that had propelled her into a life of helping others. From what he could see of the women and children in the shelter, and of the blocks surrounding the shelter, Samantha had accomplished a lot of good in her life.
Her undead life.
Which prompted him to sneak a look at the shadows in his bedroom. The same old darkness, except for the slight breeze shifting the pale pink chiffon curtains his wife had hung. An open window.
His neck and throat complained again—loudly—as he went to the window to close it. Something shifted on the fire escape, prompting him to pull aside the curtain and peer into the night.
Nothing.
It had probably been his overworked imagination. Closing the window and locking it for good measure, he padded back to bed, shivering. The spring breeze still had the bite of winter in it.
Or at least that’s what he told himself. He was a grown man after all and shouldn’t be afraid of things that go bump in the night.
Especially when those things appeared as attractive as Samantha. Tasted as good. Felt as wonderful pressed against him.
The shiver of cold and fear was replaced with one of desire as he slipped beneath the sheets. Not good. It was foolish to still be thinking about her that way.
Having sworn off serious relationships thanks to his wife, it had been a long time since he’d listed the pros and cons of a prospective date. In his past few dalliances, the only pros he’d considered were that the woman was willing and uninterested in any kind of lasting involvement.
That had worked to satisfy the urge for sex when it came.
Somehow, whatever had been going on with Samantha was about more than the sex, violating his Golden Rule about getting involved. But since he’d already broken that rule…
Pro number one: Her smile did something to him that made his stomach do little flip-flops and, right now, brought a twitch of life to places he didn’t need coming alive tonight.
Pro number two: She was mentally strong. Seemingly capable of handling anything.
The sad upshot of that pro was that her strength came from the harsh trials she’d been forced to face. Although he suspected her courage had always been there, ready to be used.
Pro number three: She was beautiful, oh-so-amazingly gorgeous. He loved the way the mass of her dark hair framed her face. Her skin the color of fresh cream touched by coffee. Or chocolate.
Yes, white chocolate, considering how her lips and breasts had tasted.
He groaned as his nether regions came fully to life. He reached beneath the sheets and grabbed himself. Stroked slowly, ignoring the discomfort in his throat and neck, which should have reminded him that his desire for her could bring him nothing but pain.
But it was hard to forget her as he remembered the fullness of her breasts and how they’d fit perfectly in his hand. How he had licked and sucked at the tips during their one and only encounter.
Pro number four: her passion. He’d roused but the beginning of it that night and it had still been more than he’d ever experienced with any other woman.
Passion like nothing else. Passion with the power to make him forget about everything except…
Con number one, which quashed the desire snaking through him more effectively than an ice-cold shower. He lay there, breathing heavily. His body damp and his needs unfulfilled thanks to the biggest and most overwhelming of cons.
Con number one: Vampire. Blood-sucking, throat-ripping, life-ending vampire.
He much preferred thinking of all the pros. He’d go back to the top of the list and take it a little more slowly this time.
The night air was chill and filled with damp from a spring rain. It was the kind of weather that seeped into your bones. If you were human, of course.
To vampires things like hot and cold had totally different meanings. Although maybe they weren’t that different, Samantha thought now. Much as humans craved warmth, vampires thrived on the heat within them, searing them from inside through their transformation. Bringing with it superhuman powers, lusts and cravings.
Unlike the cold that cloaked them during the day and when their human forms took control.
Samantha much preferred the cold.
It was why she was impervious to the night’s chill as she crouched behind the ledge of the building across from Peter’s, watching. Struggling to catch sight of him. It had been easier when she’d been on the fire escape.
He must have caught a glimpse of her spying on him, for he’d come to the window. She’d had to beat a hasty retreat to the building across the way.
It had been a while, however, since his earlier appearance at the window. Maybe long enough for her to return to her perch and…
Why was she here? Why had she come to see him? He’d made it quite clear how he felt. How he held her responsible for so many of his hurts.
Maybe that was why she sat on the ledge, watching his building. Seeing no activity from his apartment, she decided to return to the fire escape. To watch him and make sure he was safe.
She walked a few yards away from the ledge of the building. As much as she liked the cold of her human body and what it signified, she knew she needed more strength to make the jump. Arms outspread, her head turned up to the skies, she fixed her gaze on the murky moon, partially obscured by rain clouds. Reaching deep within her, she sought out the demon, sensed it wake, warm and willing to be free.
The heat grew and power singed her nerve endings, wakening every sense. The light of the moon became brighter as vampire sight took over. With a deep breath, she sucked in the smells of the city at night, the freshness of things washed clean by the rain.
Lowering her gaze, she focused on the opposite ledge and rushed toward it, leaping. She landed on two feet, agile as a cat. Carefully she slipped over the ledge and controlled her fall. When she landed on the fire escape, it was noiseless.
Although his window was closed, he’d been careless when shutting it. A piece of curtain was trapped at the bottom, creating a small opening through which she could see him.
He was lying partially beneath the sheets, most of his body exposed. He was naked. With her heightened vision, she could see every wonderful inch despite the darkness of the night. The strong muscles of his arms. The firm planes of his chest.
The heat within her increased, both human and vampire responding to her desire for the man beyond the glass.
She had chastised herself often during the last few days. She should forget her feelings for him. Forget the delicious way he made her want to be alive again, like a real woman once more.
Forgetting had seemed nearly impossible until his reminder that the only thing she’d brought into his life had been pain.
In her mind’s eye, she recollected the marks left on him by the Taser. As she observed him now, the painful red imprint of Foley’s hand was vivid against his throat. His throat, where his pulse beat, growing more rapid as she watched.
Her heart raced along with his. Too fast. Too erratic it occurred to her. She searched out the reas
on and seeing why, she groaned and fell back against the edge of the fire escape.
She should leave. Yet she couldn’t drag herself away from the sight of him. From surreptitiously feeding on his rising passion.
As she crouched there, ensnared by what he was doing, she remembered how it had been with them. How the muscles of his chest had been hard when pressed against hers, while his skin had been oh-so-soft and warm. How he had licked and sucked…
She moaned as her body sprang to life, joining him on his journey. It was all she could do to stop herself from breaking through that window and slipping into bed beside him to savor the warmth of his body as passion grew, smell the damp of their arousal, strong as her body responded and demanded she find completion.
Sexual completion. She ran one hand over her hard nipples. She imagined his mouth on them, pleasuring her.
Vampire completion. She passed her other hand over the fangs that had erupted along with her human passion. Just as they almost had the other night. There was but one way to satisfy this urge, only she couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to Peter.
With a strangled groan, she gave him one last look, and then threw herself over the edge of the fire escape.
She hit the ground running and didn’t stop, knowing she had to tire out the vampire within if she had any hope of being normal by the time morning came and, with it, all her human responsibilities.
I’m sorry, Peter.
She ran as if chased by the hounds of hell. Only there was no respite from their pursuit. No safe place where she could avoid the message they sent to her all night long—Sorry doesn’t quite cut it.
Chapter 21
D ays passed without him seeing her. Without any kind of break in the case. The prints had been a dead end. Although two of the sets were in the system, the files were classified and Peter lacked the necessary security clearance.
Of course, when they’d worked on the Sloan case parts of his file had been classified as well, but that hadn’t stopped Diana from obtaining the information. He was about to pick up the phone to call her, when one of his buddies yelled, “Hey, Daly. Call for you on line five.”
“Daly,” he said as he answered the phone.
“Peter, it’s Samantha.” As if he wouldn’t have recognized her voice.
He tried to keep his tone neutral. Without anger. Without excitement. “What’s up?”
“Diego’s missing.”
“And how do you know that?”
There was a moment’s hesitation on the line and Peter suspected he wouldn’t like the answer to her question. “I’ve been trying to reach him all day—”
“Because you all like to rise and shine with the sun,” he said caustically. “So when he didn’t answer—”
“Diego’s keeper, Simon, didn’t answer. Diego lives on a vampire schedule,” she explained, a tinge of annoyance in her voice that he kind of liked. It said she wasn’t afraid to stand up to him.
“So you—”
“Went over this afternoon once the sun was weaker. Neither Simon or Diego are there. At least, not that I can tell without going through the apartment.”
He imagined her traipsing through the area, possibly destroying evidence in her haste to find her friend or his keeper. “Are you in the apartment?”
“No. I’m in a nearby coffeehouse with plenty of people nearby.”
Smart girl. “Stay put. My shift is almost over. While I can’t call in CSU, maybe Diana and I can collect evidence on our own.” He tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear, and pulled out his notepad. “What’s the address of the coffeehouse?”
He wrote it down, then said, “Don’t move until we get there.”
Samantha slipped the key into the dead bolt and unlocked the door to Diego’s apartment. She entered, followed by Peter, Diana and Ryder. She hadn’t expected Ryder to help out. She suspected he was doing it solely because of Diana, but didn’t really care, if it would assist in finding her missing friends.
She waited by the door, Ryder an unlikely companion beside her, as Diana and Peter swept through Diego’s home, scoping out the slightly askew coffee table and upended chair. Moving to the overturned lamp on a sofa side table. Beside the chair and lamp were Simon’s walking sticks and a novel.
Peter removed some kind of kit from his jacket and dusted down the lamp.
“There.” Diana motioned to something on the base of the lamp. Peter removed a small card, peeled off the backing and took a sample off the lamp.
Those few out of sync things were the only signs of a struggle. Maybe she’d made a mistake in thinking Diego had been taken. Maybe he’d just decided to leave town until things were safer.
Only she couldn’t imagine Diego running with Esperanza still missing. Nor would his keeper, Simon, go anywhere without his walking sticks. Simon’s legs and hips had been crushed during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. Diego found Simon in the wreckage, but hadn’t been able to completely heal him after saving his life.
Diana and Peter continued searching the apartment until they’d reached the door to the farthest room. “Is this where Diego…sleeps?” Peter asked.
She nodded.
“Where is Diego’s keeper normally?” Diana asked. “In his own room? In the kitchen?”
“In that easy chair,” Samantha answered and pointed to the upended chair in the other room. “Simon doesn’t get around too well, so once he’s up and about, he generally settles there to either read or watch television.”
Once they were all standing in the bedroom, Peter asked, “Anything out of place?”
“I’ve never been in here before.”
A pleased smile crossed Peter’s face before he could control it, but that pleasure was short-lived as a barely discernable thump caught the attention of all of them.
Ryder was the first to act. He strode quickly to a nearby closet and after laying his head against one of the sliding doors, opened it.
On the floor, trussed up and gagged was Simon. The thumping had been him desperately banging his head against the wall to get their attention.
At the sight of Ryder, Simon grew more agitated. His eyes were wild-looking and he pressed his heels into the floor, trying to push himself farther against the wall.
Samantha cursed beneath her breath. She urged Ryder away from the nearly frantic Simon. While lowering the gag and untying his hands, she said in soft tones, “It’s okay, Simon. These are friends.”
Simon shook his head, his gaze fixed straight ahead to the other side of the wide closet. “Esperanza,” he whispered and again pushed with his heels against the floor, as if trying to escape.
Samantha peered into the closet. The sight within made her lurch back. She lost her balance and landed on her butt. Reaching into the closet, she dragged Simon out and closed the door.
Peter was at her side in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”
She met his worried gaze. “It’s Esperanza. On the other side of the closet. Or what’s left of her.”
At her words, Ryder slowly slid the other door open to reveal the nearly desiccated corpse of the female vampire.
His and Peter’s reactions were as immediate as hers. Both of them reeled back, gaping at the shriveled remains. Esperanza was just a pile of skin and bone. If not for the distinctive long auburn hair that clung to what remained of her head, it would have been hard to identify her mummylike features.
Besid
e her, Simon’s keening became a loud wail and she tried to comfort him. “It’s okay, Simon. We’ll take care of everything.”
“They took Diego. They’ll kill him, too!”
Diana kneeled beside Samantha and the old man. “We will find him, Simon. But we’ll need your help.”
Vehemently, Simon shook his head. “They’ll kill me, too. Because I’m his keeper.”
“No, Simon. They won’t. We’ll make sure of that,” Samantha said, but Simon was too far gone to listen to reason.
Samantha met Diana’s gaze. “We need to get him out of here. Calm him down. See if he’s hurt.”
Diana nodded and glanced over her shoulder at Ryder. “Can you call Melissa? Ask her to come?”
With a curt nod to signal his agreement, he whipped out his cell phone, but walked out of the room for privacy.
Diana returned her attention to Simon. “Can we move him into the other room?”
In human form, she’d barely be able to budge Simon. Before she could vamp out for the extra strength, Peter came to her side. “I can help.”
Between the two of them, they carried Simon to the living room, where they settled him on the sofa. As soon as the old man was lying down, he began babbling again.
She placed a blanket over Simon and tried to calm him down. He was clearly in shock and needed to be kept warm. In soft tones, she tried to reassure him. Slowly, the old man’s wails and frantic movements subsided. Eventually, he slipped into sleep.
She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. What had happened? Why had they left Esperanza behind? As a warning or some kind of sick joke?
Peter stood beside her, tension in his body. She could understand why. She’d dragged him into something beyond his wildest imagination. Something she wasn’t sure wouldn’t get him killed. Or her for that matter.
Temptation Calls Page 14
