When It Comes (Vampire Assassin League Book 31)

by Jackie Ivie

  m

  CHAPTER ONE

  Plastic.

  Plastic.

  Plastic.

  Didn’t anyone carry cash anymore?

  Adelaide pitched billfolds into the trash bin with a flick of her wrist in a desultory gesture. Everyone carried a lot of debit or credit cards. Hardly any cash. What she did find was little bills. She’d never reach her goal. This was the worst total she’d ever achieved. That sent a little flash of anger through her.

  She told herself it wasn’t her fault.

  This was her third trip to the bin, waiting around until nobody noticed her anymore. That’s what made a good pick-pocket - the ability to mesh in with any crowd. Flit about, almost unseen. An inadvertent touch barely noted, if at all.

  And just as easily forgotten.

  Without watching, she sifted through her bag for another wallet. This one was promising. It was a large flat one. Thick. She even remembered the geeky fellow she’d taken it from, while avoiding a drunken embrace. She kept her hand down by her hip as she flicked the leather open and scanned for greenbacks. Glanced down.

  Ah.

  The geek had carried several hundred dollars. In twenties.

  Nice.

  Addie fished the cash out, tucked the bills into a special pocket of her skirt, and chucked the wallet into the bin, all the while keeping an eye on the immense crowd. Mostly moving. Swaying. Completely ignoring their peril. They were at her mercy.

  That was entertaining. Just like always.

  Addie had worn her dark maroon corset tonight. Atop a brocade ankle-grazing skirt. It matched the large drawstring bag she carried on her arm. That bag bulged with her spoils this time. She’d loaded it with at least four women’s clutches, and three times as many men’s wallets before coming to the trash area. The women’s clutches were easy to clip free where they dangled off a shoulder or arm. Men’s wallets were even easier. She’d filched mainly from back pockets, but a few she’d snagged from inside a jacket - just for sport.

  Picking pockets was like any other talent. If you didn’t practice, the ability grew rusty and might even disappear. Adelaide was an ace pick-pocket. It had kept her fed and sheltered when she’d lived. Nowadays, it provided entertainment...and a touch of what could be satisfaction. She’d pilfered nearly two-hundred thousand dollars at a football game once. But that was back in the early-1960s. Before all this credit stuff. When gatherings of people equaled lots of cash.

  There was a big crowd at Red Rocks tonight. Addie wasn’t attending for the music, however. The camaraderie. Or the view. She actually wasn’t there to pick pockets, either. Red Rocks, Colorado was a natural amphitheater, perfect for musical performances. It was extremely picturesque, with cliffs that bounced sound. And it held sizeable crowds. That’s what brought her down from Breckenridge. Any concert here was a blood feast for the taking.

  The opportunity to hone her talent was secondary.

  The managers must have booked a popular band this time. There was an enormous crowd bent on listening, dancing, imbibing, and smoking. Pure party atmosphere. Just like always. Whenever they held a music fest here, she could count on lots of inebriated prey. Easy. Entertaining.

  And with little recall later of how they might have gotten little puncture marks in their necks.

  As a vampire, she required fluid. She didn’t need to kill anyone to get it. Out here, they were more than eager to engage in random kisses with strangers. Even a bit of necking. She’d already taken blood from a couple of people. Snacked on drug-infused fluid. Gotten a dry mouth over the last fellow. That was probably from cocaine. She licked the roof of her mouth with her tongue. Yep. She didn’t have any moisture, not even enough to swallow. And then it occurred to her.

  She felt dry-mouth?

  Addie blinked. Stared at the mass of discarded billfolds in the trash bin. She was feeling sensation?

  It wasn’t possible. Not here. Or now. There was only one event that brought a vampire to life.

  One.

  They found their mate.

  She scanned the periphery again. Nobody stood out. Everyone appeared to have their backs to her and seemed to be caught up in the throb of drums, the deep tones of bass guitars, and the lead singer’s voice. Addie couldn’t decipher lyrics. Not with the way the singer screamed them. She shrugged. She must have been mistaken about the cotton-mouth. She stuck her hand into the bag again and pulled out another wallet. This was one odd-shaped. Square. She couldn’t remember where she’d taken it.

  This was weird.

  There was substance to it. Something bulky inside. Weirder still, was the tingling sensation that went through her palm while she stood there, weighing the item. Addie’s eyes narrowed. She stuck her thumb between the folds and tilted the wallet open. It wasn’t bright over here by the trash bins. Flashes of light from the stage show intermittently lit the area with a fireworks type blast. That wasn’t happening at the moment. But vampires didn’t need light.

  Because they were dead.

  Just as she’d been moments earlier.

  Un-death wasn’t optional. Vampirism didn’t equate to eternal life. It was a living death. Inside and out. Passionless. Emotionless. Existence akin to being a walking corpse. She’d been given the warnings although it hadn’t been necessary. Life had been one struggle after another. Being undead couldn’t be worse.

  Light glinted off metal edges. Numbers. A star shape.

  She’d filched a bobby’s badge.

  Oh. Fie! She hated cops. All of them. Any kind. A bobby was the reason she’d earned this un-death. As far as she was concerned they were all pretentious, egotistical, self-righteous bastards. And that’s if they were honest to start with. The very last thing she needed was a cop in charge of her destiny again.

  The thought was distressing enough her heart quivered.

  And then everything stopped.

  Because she felt it!

  Oh. My.

  Adelaide ran her thumb along the cross-grain leather surface with a sense of wonder attached to her motion. Heavens! The ridges weren’t deep, but she could actually feel them! All of them. She lifted the wallet to her nose. Sniffed. It even smelled like leather!

  “It’s a badge, honey.”

  Her heart gave a heavy thump as it dropped. Addie gasped. Spun. And then she had to look up. Way up. The speaker was tall. Massive. And hooded. Most of his face was in shadow. She caught a glimpse of full lower lip. Slight growth of whiskers on his jaw. A cleft in his chin. A sigh escaped her throat, but it intermingled with the sensation of another loud thump from her heart. That made two of them. A third followed. A fourth. Fifth.

  Her heart truly was beating!

  “And it’s mine.”

  He snatched the wallet thing from her with a quick motion. Shoved his arm behind him, and shuffled for a moment as he probably secured the thing in his back pocket. He held a set of linked metal rings in his hand when he brought it forward again. He dangled them before her eyes.

  “And these here? These are cuffs.”

  He opened one and moved, slapping it against her wrist. He had to glance down to finish. His hood fell farther forward, hiding more of his features, but the move pulled on the gray fabric of his attire, delineating his physique. Adelaide wasn’t tiny, but she wasn’t tall. She was a respectable five foot two, however. She felt and probably looked petite standing before him. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t flabby or loose, either. He had large, muscled arms. Shoulders.

  Oh, my!

  Oh, my!

  Oh, my!

  She had her mate! He’d just appeared one day like she’d been told! And, so far, it appeared she’d
been amazingly gifted.

  Inside Addie was jumping with excitement. Joy. Intrigue. The only thing that manifested physically was a tremor she couldn’t contain. It took him more than a few moments to secure her cuff. She didn’t move. She could have broken the metal. Escaped. But that was the last thing she wanted. Addie was spellbound as he finished and looked back toward her. Now, she could see even less of his face.

  Darn it.

  He touched his ear and started speaking.

  “Back-up. Trash area. Nothing I can’t handle. I need a bin secured. Evidence gathered. No. It’s not drugs. You aren’t gonna believe it.”

  He stretched up and looked over the crowd at something. That put light on a nicely formed chest. Even the men in the exercise rooms aboard ship hadn’t looked this fit or strong. Addie sighed.

  “We got a pick-pocket. Ha. Ha. Funny. I’m talking major league. Yeah. I’ll take that, sweetheart.”

  She didn’t know he spoke to her until he grabbed for her bag. She didn’t have a warning, but she wouldn’t have cared if he possessed it anyway. He lifted it a couple of times as if for weight. A trio of hoodie-clad figures loomed from the crowd. Approached. Addie ignored them even as they looked her over. They were nothing. It was her mate that mattered.

  “Check it out.”

  Her mate tossed the bag at one. He opened it. Shuffled through the contents. Whistled. Gave it to the cop beside him. That one did the same maneuver with the contents of her bag only he didn’t whistle. The third just looked at her.

  Ugh.

  She hated cops.

  Addie almost snarled.

  “Come on. You know the drill.”

  Her mate raised his arm, lifting hers with it. He’d linked them together. That was almost funny. She wasn’t going anywhere except with him. He started moving, taking a path across the canyon floor, through a sea of people that seemed to move out of his way. It didn’t resemble the same crowd she’d been bumping through.

  Well.

  Why wouldn’t people move, Addie?

  He was large. Impossible to ignore. Assertive. And most of the concert-goers weren’t here to fight.

  Addie kept her focus on the center of his back, thoroughly enjoying a sensation that slithered into existence somewhere in her belly. It warmed. And then it electrified. As if she were connected to a live wire and getting jolted with mild surges of electricity.

  She stumbled. He glanced backward. She couldn’t tell his expression. It didn’t look pleasant. The jerk he gave to bring her close wasn’t meant to be, either. He may have thought she balked. Or maybe she was clumsy. That would never do. Addie took the ground out of the equation. She lifted slightly and just hovered, following him all the way through the concert area and to the car park. He almost caught her above-ground. She had a moment’s notice before he spun and jerked her toward him. She lurched clumsily to the dirt.

  “I suppose you want your Miranda Rights about now,” he said.

  “Um. All right.”

  “You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney...”

  He kept spewing words at her. She barely heard them. It was too fascinating to listen and watch. He had a deep voice. Great range. She wondered what he’d sound like when she had him all to herself. Got to playing. Peeled his clothing off. Saw the body he was hiding...

  He sighed heavily. Addie mentally shook.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I asked if you understood.”

  “Oh. Yes.”

  “Good. Then, come on, already.”

  He turned and started walking again. He had to weave through cars. His shoulders moved side-to-side as he walked. That was intriguing. Everything about him had that affectation, however. She really wished he’d pull off the hood! He didn’t have to keep pulling on her arm, either. She was a willing participant. Of course, she couldn’t tell him that.

  Not yet.

  They stopped at a nondescript four-door sedan. Nothing about it looked like a police car. Addie looked it over. Oh. Wait. There was a multi-hued light bar in the back window. He opened a back door. Brought her close. And then pulled a key ring from a coiled device attached to his pants. Selected one. Lifted their conjoined wrists to release his cuff. Every move showed off more manly physique. Addie was really appreciative. She barely caught the sigh.

  “Well. Here we are. Your ride.”

  “My ride?”

  “You want to get in, miss?”

  “It’s Adelaide,” she told him.

  “Like I give a shit,” he answered.

  “Addie, for short.”

  “Get in.”

  “What’s your name, officer?”

  “It’s detective.”

  Addie sighed at his uncompromising attitude. That was another thing she detested about cops. “Are...you taking me to the station house?” she tried again.

  “I’m not here for pick-pockets, okay, sweetheart?”

  “I’m not just a pick-pocket.”

  “Really? You want to elaborate?”

  “Will you...use it against me?”

  “Well, yeah. I just warned you I would.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  “Look. I really don’t have time for chit-chat. Get in.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “I don’t want to have to call for female back-up. And a different ride. But, I will.”

  “Is this...your car?”

  He sighed heavily. That lifted his shoulders significantly. The car park area was much better lit than the arena area. She got a very good look at his size. The man was well over six foot. Nicely muscled. And still hooded.

  Darn it.

  “Will you return?” she asked.

  “Look. Lady. Please. You might be good, but I’m not here for pick-pockets. Got it?”

  “Oh. I’m better than good,” she replied.

  He shoved his hood off and stole her breath. Her wits. And any ability to speak. Adelaide rocked backward with surprise. And awe.

  Oh, my.

  Her mate was a gorgeous specimen. A swell of heat took over her midsection, as if she needed it. She’d guess his age at about thirty. He had a lot of dark hair, worn loose and long. It was easily the length of hers. She couldn’t tell eye color. They were a light shade that stunned her into incoherence. The guy was beyond sigh-worthy. He was swoon-inducing. She knew. Her legs wobbled in warning.

  He tapped at his ear. “Bryce?”

  Addie slid into the vehicle before he called for back-up. Her skirt twisted with the movement, wrapping her legs in the cool sensation of brocade. She wriggled about, using her free arm to settle the fabric about her as elegantly as possible. She didn’t want a female cop handling her. She wanted her mate. And she didn’t even know his name yet. Because he was close-mouthed and full of attitude.

  Like every bobby she’d ever come across.

  “Cancel, Bryce.”

  He leaned in and smacked the cuff he’d worn onto a bar along the back of the front seat, supposedly securing her. Addie would have watched his movement, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his face. He had little lines across his forehead as he concentrated. Those made him even more handsome.

  He glanced over at her.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Soon?” she replied.

  “Soon enough.”

  “Before sunrise?”

  He pulled from the vehicle. Regarded her for long moments. Pulled his hood back over his head. And then he shut the door.

  Adelaide watched him walk away. He displayed a distinctive side-to-side movement. Like a swagger. She was already in love with that. She sighed heavily. Broke the cuff. Leapt over the seat. And started rifling the car.

  He really should have just told her his name.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mitch had a problem.

  Actually, he had more than one.

  Least of
which was losing the deal. A text message had come through as he’d reached the trash area again. He noted the rest of the team was still there, hovered about the cans. Hunched-over. Arms wrapped about their torsos. Stomping their feet. As if it was cold. These guys would never survive a Rocky Mountain spring snowstorm.

  Mitch had caught the smirk as he approached. These guys were Federal. From Phoenix. For all he knew, they probably were cold. Well. That was their problem. Mitch didn’t care. They’d shouldered their way into Colorado, made him part of their ongoing investigation, despite his reputation and disagreement. But they were dealing with a huge shipment here. Normally the trouble at Red Rocks was the drug, ecstasy. Not tonight. Tonight there was a two million dollar deal going down. That was a lot of cash. It bought a lot of cocaine. Both had a way of bringing all kinds of roaches out of the woodwork, and that included the FBI.

  His burn phone vibrated in his pocket as he approached. Mitch pulled it out. Scanned the message. Made a face.

  ‘You snoozed.’

  Mitch sighed and joined the others, although he didn’t look or act like the elements had much effect on him. That wasn’t abnormal. He was a native Coloradoan. This was a pleasant evening in the summer. It sure as hell wasn’t cold.

  “Well. Looks like the deal’s off, boys,” he told them.

  “How do you figure?”

  The agent named Randy asked it in an aggressive tone. If it was faked, the guy was a damn good actor. Randy was about thirty-five. Six- four. About two hundred and forty pounds. Muscled. Tattooed. They might be fake. Mitch hadn’t asked. Randy exhibited an intimidating manner from the word ‘hello’. They guy portrayed a man spoiling for a fight. It might not be an act. Might be part of his DNA. Looked as if he’d had his nose broken at one point. Mitch turned the cell around and showed him the screen.

  “Damn it!”

  “Let me see that.” Tom, the largest of them grabbed the phone. Peered at the screen. Looked back at Mitch. “It was that fucking pick-pocket.”

  “Not hardly,” Mitch replied.

  “And she wasn’t even that cute.”

  “Oh. She was cute.”

  The third member of their team spoke up as he grabbed for the cell next. His name was Sam. He was wiry. Antsy. Acted like a meth addict in need of a fix. It was a good act. He’d had Mitch fooled at first. Good man for the job. Pound for pound, he was probably the fastest and strongest of them. Sam clicked the power button. The light illuminated his face momentarily. Then it died away. He didn’t say anything.