Rourke (New Vampire Disorder Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  No, not an exchange. He hadn’t given his permission all the times before with others more brutal, more uncaring than Grace. In her eyes, it’d been an accident. To him, it’d always be a violation. The last vampires who drank from him without permission had suffered at his hand—and boots and fangs—for days before they dusted in the sunlight.

  Grace experiencing any pain from him…Rourke’s stomach twisted. He hated what she’d done, yet his body pleaded for her to drink from him. Being away from her right now drove him freaking crazy, but he couldn’t stand the thought of facing her. He was on fire, his insides turned on like he’d never known, but his past continuously fed him chunks of his enslavement until he wanted to kneel down and vomit on someone’s wingtips.

  Rourke located the female he searched for. Game face in place, he made his way toward her table. She swiveled in her high-back chair toward him, sensing his presence. A demure smile twisted her painted red lips. A cascade of midnight curls partially obscured the pale arch of her slender neck. He’d fed long and often from the blue-tinged vein peeking through her hair. All while she had been restrained in the harness that hung from the ceiling of one of the private guest rooms.

  Everyone else faded to the periphery of his vision; his focus narrowed on her.

  “Manka,” he growled once he reached her side.

  She gazed up at him, a hitch in her breath, waiting only for him to ask.

  “I have four sets of padlocks and an empty table. Are you available?”

  ***

  A knock on the door sounded before a male’s voice spoke. “Open up, Grace. It’s Demetrius.”

  Grace opened the door to a pair of pale green eyes steeped in pity. The reason for the sympathy could be from many things. Losing her vampire family, then her human family. How Rourke couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  “Come with me,” was all he said before heading down the hall.

  She scurried after him, following through the maze of corridors.

  “If Rourke didn’t fill you in, I’m from a prime family.” Demetrius didn’t turn his head, kept it succinct. “My team and I destroyed the Vampire Council. Now I sit on the TriSpecies Synod and help govern all the non-humans.”

  Whoa. Not just anyone took her in. Rourke and Bishop must be part of his team. Made sense they were the ones investigating possible demon interference. Once they reached a room where a beautiful female with hair the color of sunshine waited, Demetrius ushered her inside and closed the door.

  “Callista,” Demetrius said, “this is Grace.”

  “Call me Calli.” Her expression matched her mate’s I’m-sorry-you-experienced-something-shitty one. But hers came across as more…knowing. A quality that endeared Grace to her immediately.

  Grace would love to have someone she could call a friend. She would love to have someone, period. Nathaniel had been her best friend. As a vampire, she couldn’t garner human friendships, and she hadn’t known any other vampires.

  Her gaze flitted around the meeting room. The contemporary style with sleek lines and polished surfaces contradicted her stereotype of old-world vampires. But it fit the couple who sat in it with her.

  Demetrius slid a water bottle in front of Grace.

  “Tell us anything and everything, Grace.” Calli opened a notepad and clicked a pen. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take notes. I’ve been studying demons and I don’t want to miss something crucial.”

  “Go for it, but I don’t have much to spill. Sometimes, I wonder if I formed a false memory.” Until I laid eyes on Rourke and déjà vu kicked me in the ass. “My birth parents had been slaughtered, just senseless. I can recall what the room looked like. Every detail. It was a simple room, with normal furniture, no different than what I had growing up with my human family.”

  “By normal, you mean what?” Demetrius asked.

  “Middle class. My mom worked as a teller at a bank. My dad managed a convenience store.”

  Calli glanced at Demetrius. “She’s not prime?”

  He inclined his head. “It’s a safe assumption. You know what prime means? You didn’t question it when I mentioned it before.”

  “No, my parents told me all about vampires and shifters and the bad guys who hunted them.”

  “The ones I destroyed.” He stated it, no gloating, just reality.

  Geez, who was she hanging around?

  “And they knew all that how?” He calmly regarded her, but his scrutiny was palpable.

  Grace shrugged. “I never questioned them. I mean, parents know everything, except during our teenage years when they know nothing. Vampires have that too, right?”

  Calli smirked. “They never grow out of it.”

  Grace expected Demetrius to scowl, but his lips twisted in an arrogant smile at his mate’s joke.

  They reminded her of her parents. The love between them had been strong and clear, but they had constantly ribbed each other.

  She missed them so much. A wave of sorrow hit her, she dropped her gaze from them.

  “I’m sorry.” Callie dropped her pen to lay her hand on Grace’s.

  “It doesn’t seem possible.” Words poured from Grace’s mouth. “It was literally last night I talked to them. And my brother. He’s like my twin. He never thought I was weird or resented keeping my secret. He always said it was cool as shit his big sis was a vampire. Now their bodies are buried who knows where. Actually, the giant does.”

  Grace sniffled and a tissue appeared in front of her. Calli thought of everything. Perhaps she’d experienced similar tragedy.

  Wiping her nose, she continued her cathartic word vomit. “I was homeschooled. Not like you can send a vampire to public school. Mom hated teaching. She was impatient, but she’d always say, ‘It’s not you, dear; it’s me. I suck at this.’ She’d do it after working a full day. Dad helped me find colleges with online programs. It was fucking hard, because what degree will give me a job I can do from home? But I learned how not to teach from Mom. I became an online instructor to use my skills.” Grace’s laugh echoed false in her own ears.

  Demetrius’ brows drew down. “How did they send you to college? Fake documents to enroll you?”

  “I guess. Dad taught me how to drive and then came home with a driver’s license for me one day.”

  He sat back, considering the information. “Have you lived in Freemont your whole life?”

  “My parents bought the house when my brother and I were very young and we’ve lived there ever since.”

  “They had a contact to supply them with fake documents then.”

  Grace’s papers for anything had been fake, of course. She’d never considered her family’s documents were also fake. While she was growing up, they hadn’t acted paranoid, but then it’d been over twenty years since they’d settled in the house in Freemont. It was her home. Her parents were her parents. She was a normal online vampire tutor raised by humans.

  Calli filled in the pause while Demetrius frowned at the tabletop. “Is there anything unusual you remember before tonight? Any reason why your family was targeted?”

  Grace shook her head, helpless as ever. “It seems there’s a lot they didn’t tell me. If they ran across trouble, I was left out of it.”

  Demetrius pushed back. “It’s time we search your house.”

  Calli passed Grace another reassuring look. “Are you ready? You’re welcome to stay here while we go.”

  “I want to be involved. I need to be useful.” I need to find who did this.

  “I understand. Can you flash us there?” Calli watched her expectantly.

  Grace blinked. Could she? “Do you guys need to grab anything first?”

  She asked to totally buy time because she didn’t want to admit she didn’t flash often, didn’t flash long distances, and never attempted to bring anyone. Except one time she flashed with Nathaniel to avoid getting caught drinking by her parents. She flashed them from the fire pit to the upper level of their house when they’d heard their
parents drive up. An ingenious move—if the fire hadn’t still been burning with their liquor sitting out. Nathaniel had been fully human, so flashing with two vampires who could also flash was entirely possible in her new world.

  “I’m always locked and loaded.” Demetrius waited with his arms folded. Calli stood next to him, both of them patient as if they knew it was a difficult decision for Grace.

  “Do you follow me or do we need to hold hands or something.”

  Calli extended her hand for Grace to grab. “We don’t have Rourke’s talent of tracing a flashing path.”

  “Rourke’s a full bucket of surprises.” Grace’s sarcasm-laced words shocked her. She’d actually spoken that shit out loud.

  Demetrius barked a laugh. Grace pictured her house and flashed.

  Chapter Five

  Rourke considered the female before him, waiting for her answer. It’d be yes. Her craving for hard sex was as strong as his urge to tie up his sexual partner. They made a great pair. But that wasn’t the reason he’d approached her tonight.

  “Of course, Rourke. You know I’d never turn you down.” Manka uncrossed her legs. The site of her damp sex peeking out from beneath her ultra-short skirt was supposed to turn him on.

  It had before. Likely due to the business he had with her. The sight of her glistening flesh did nothing now. Tonight, he could be examining a lettuce salad on a full stomach. His hunger gnawed at him, but the idea of feeding from Manka left him as nauseous as eating out of restaurant garbage bins. He’d know.

  He inclined his head, acknowledging the view. A seductive smile lifted her shiny red lips, and she stood up. He trailed her sexy saunter to a private room. No lights, no windows, just a pain-pleasure sanctuary for those inclined.

  Rourke’s tastes didn’t drift that way. He only craved controlling the level of intimacy until he had full control. If he could feed from himself, then he and his hand would survive just fine. He’d think of another outlet for his lock-picking hobby.

  Manka slid into the swing chair suspended from the ceiling. She tucked her feet into the dangling foot straps and threaded her arms into the restraints. Rourke prowled around her, securing buckles—their usual routine.

  Her shellacked lips pouted. “Rourke, where’s your enthusiasm? You’re usually at least half-mast by now.”

  He ruthlessly yanked the last buckle tight. She gasped and her eyes glazed over in desire. “We need to clear the air first, Manka.”

  Her expression turned questioning and impatient. “We don’t waste much time talking.”

  “No.” He wandered to the wall to pretend to select his toy. “And I’m hoping we won’t waste much time today.”

  Because the longer he was away from Grace, the worse he itched under the collar. Wanted to go find her.

  Ridiculous.

  She meant nothing to him other than a means to solve a case, regardless if his body still sang for her bite.

  Impatience won. He gave up his pretense and ambled to Manka’s side to loom over her.

  He lifted her wrist to his mouth; she writhed, sending waves of lust over him. Intent on his mission, he nicked her skin and let a drop of blood touch his tongue.

  The urge to gag overwhelmed him. After what he investigated the previous night, the taste of her blood was revolting yet very telling.

  His anger bloomed in the room. Now she realized he released no stench of arousal.

  “Rourke?” Her muscles bunched as she strained against her bonds. A hint of fear laced her voice. “What’s going on?”

  “I think you know.” He gazed impassively down at her. “Talk, Manka. Why did you steal from me?”

  Her breath caught and she drew her limbs into herself, seeking protection. “I wanted a memento of our time together.”

  The acrid taste of a lie stained her scent. “Bullshit.”

  “Rourke, darling. It was just a tiny thing.” Manka’s breathing quickened. “I didn’t think you’d miss it.” She wasn’t lying. In her mind, she believed what she’d done was no big.

  “Who asked you to do it?” His voice was soft, almost holding a hint of compassion while there really was none.

  Her lips quivered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wanted a memento of our time together.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Manka, I can smell your lie.”

  A hard glint entered her eyes. “I won’t tell you anything other than he told me you weren’t born prime.” Her mouth twisted in a sneer. “You claim I lie, but you waltz in here, acting as if you belong with us. We let you inside of us when you’re nothing but a commoner.”

  His heart thudded once, twice. He held himself back from striking the wall.

  Nothing but a commoner.

  If only. He was much lower than that. “Yet you were wet before we even got in here.”

  She bared her fangs. “The damage is already done. You’re at least good enough for a fuck.”

  Any emotion he’d generated in her presence drained away. One night long ago, he’d sworn to himself he would be used for more than fucking or feeding. That night had started with him escaping his restraints and ended with blood on his hands. And his face. And his clothing until there was nothing left of his master to splatter.

  He’d honor his oath and bring Manka to justice. A twofer. “Did you participate?”

  She stilled, her creamy complexion draining to ashen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His hunch had been correct. “Good try. Your lies stink. I smell their deaths lingering in your blood. I hope your last meal was filling.”

  Punishing Manka would only bring a modicum of justice for Grace. Manka was a tool. The vampire who had set her up held all the blame.

  But Manka still had to pay. He walked to the door and knocked twice. It swung open to reveal Zohana.

  “Manka, have you met Zoey?”

  Manka’s conniving expression fell and filled with dawning horror.

  “Yes, it’s serious.” Rourke nodded to Zoey and stepped back.

  Zoey’s doe brown eyes rested on Manka. “Crimes against any species, but especially humans, threaten all our kind. You aided in the murder of three humans. The sentence is death. Care to share who else was involved?”

  A glob of spit landed at Zoey’s shoe.

  That would be no.

  Zoey’s expression hardened. “I’ll take care of this prime filth, Rourke. Go find the bastard behind this.”

  He tensed as Manka opened her mouth. He prepared for obscenities about his origin in front of a female he considered a friend.

  Zoey’s fist moved faster than he registered. Manka’s head snapped back, the restraints held her body in place.

  “If you’re going to waste air saying something, make sure it’s about why you attacked the human family.”

  Manka spit blood. The foamy glob landed at Zoey’s feet. Despite her restraints, Manka smiled without a care in the world. Black ebbed into her eyes.

  “Shit.” Zoey withdrew a wooden stake from her knee-high boot.

  Manka’s eyes widened; her smile turned into a sneer. The hairs on the back of Rourke’s neck stood up. A gust of wind buffeted through the room—the completely closed in room. He lunged for Manka to stop the demon from summoning its power just as Zoey’s arm snapped up and crashed the stake down into Manka’s chest.

  The restraints swung empty. Dusted. It had happened so fast, the image of the demon possessing Manka hung in her place.

  Rourke opened the door. “Get out of here, Zoey.”

  They rushed out as the gaping hole formed under the apparition to claim it back for Hell. The roar of an air tunnel sounded as the door slammed shut. Rourke only hoped the pile of Manka’s dust survived to leave a message to anyone else involved.

  ***

  Grace sat in her bedroom, clutching a neon pink duffel bag with black piping. Calli had suggested she collect a few items and pack a bag.

  Then she’d broken the news it was no longer Grace’s home, w
hich she had already gathered from Rourke. Sucked to have it confirmed. After they finished tonight, Demetrius would send a vampire crew to clean it out and sell it. Just like that, her family’s existence would be gone.

  She blew out a heavy breath. Part of her wanted to rail against the powers that be. Scream and shout and throw heavy objects while she declared how utterly unfair it all was. The other half was relieved to not have to deal with clearing out her loved ones’ belongings. This wasn’t emptying a room or cleaning out a closet—all terrible enough. Emptying a house and moving on lifted the pain to unmanageable, unthinkable, levels. And Grace didn’t know if she possessed the strength to do it, and she would’ve had to do it alone because she was the only one left.

  Dropping the duffel that was too cheery for the situation, Grace began to pack. Rolling clothing to stuff into the corners, she filled the bag and went in search of her backpack. Vampires weren’t known for international travel and neither were her parents—that she knew of—so a nice suitcase wasn’t available. Grace unhooked her laptop, wrapped up the cords and stashed it in its case. Only two pictures, one with all four of them and the other with just her and Nathaniel, stood on her nightstand. Into the backpack those went.

  Done. Her life boiled down to two bags and laptop. Were other vampires like this? Grace guessed her packed possessions surpassed Rourke’s.

  Rourke. Her anger at the way he dumped her on the couch almost exceeded her irritation she didn’t know where he went. One drop of blood and he disappeared. Not that they’d connected.

  Except for that confusing gentle kiss—a contradiction compared to the intense male. In his initial hesitance, she’d sensed a deep need to be accepted, to not be rejected, yet fear she wouldn’t push him away.

  It was what? A ten second kiss? And it branded its way into her heart more than any other boyfriend she’d ever had.

  Humans. Maybe that was the difference. Two were tame guys she’d met, online of course, where she could control the interaction and get a good sense of their unstable quotient. The third was one of Nathaniel’s friends. Dating him had made her brother nervous, but Grace had assured him the relationship was slightly more than a fling. More a reprieve from the physical loneliness that sometimes plagued her. Once his friend’s feelings delved deeper, she cut it off, leaving him disappointed and her with a tinge of regret.