A Vampire's Thirst_Ivan

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by Marissa Farrar


  “You need to turn around and walk into the hotel,” he said firmly. “Forget you ever saw me, and erase my name from the guest list.”

  She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  He blinked and jerked back, surprised.

  Dammit. Why wasn’t he able to compel her? She was human, wasn’t she? He should be able to compel a human.

  “Oh, err, nothing. Just wishful thinking, I guess. I really do have to make this meeting.”

  She shouldn’t have been able to resist him. What was happening?

  Chapter 6

  Charlie wasn’t the type of person who allowed herself to get ruffled by things, and especially not handsome, suited men with dark eyes and even darker hair. But the moment she’d set eyes on him it was as though small explosions were happening inside her chest, and her heart raced. The hairs on her arms lifted, and the ghost of a breath swept across the back of her neck. Who was this man? He was tall, over six feet, with broad shoulders that filled out the suit jacket perfectly. She guessed him to be in his early thirties, so a few years older than she was. He clearly wasn’t from around here, and she detected a hint of something Slavic about his accent.

  But she was here to do a job, and she couldn’t let a set of pretty dark eyes and a sexy accent distract her.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stay around. There was a death on the moors last night. I’m here to interview everyone who was in the area to find out if you saw anything suspicious.”

  Was it her imagination, or did he suddenly look away? His feet shuffled in the dirt, and she glanced down to see smart brogues caked in mud.

  She wondered why he’d get such expensive shoes so messy. “Can I ask when you arrived here, and what your business was?”

  “Of course.” He replied smoothly, a little too smoothly. “I was down here chasing after an old girlfriend.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You were chasing an old girlfriend.”

  “That’s not as bad as it seems. She was taking a break from London. Her father died, and I wanted to make sure she was all right.”

  “And was she?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.”

  “I see. Well, I still have a number of questions for you. Perhaps we could go back inside to answer them?”

  The man looked back towards his car. It didn’t take a mind reader to see that he wanted to get away. Why was that?

  “Could we do this another time? I still have a long drive ahead of me, and like I said, I have an early meeting.”

  “If you’re going back to London, I don’t see when we would be able to do this.”

  He glanced away again, and she didn’t miss the tension in his jaw. She didn’t know if his reason for wanting to leave was anything more than what he was telling her.

  She nodded down at his shoes. “You go somewhere muddy?”

  She almost expected his cheeks to grow pink at her calling him out on his messy shoes, but his complexion remained pale. Unnaturally pale, in fact. Something jarred through her. No, he couldn’t be. They didn’t get any of his kind around here. But then she remembered the thought she’d had about how the death of the sheep had been murder, and it had been a ‘what’ rather than a ‘who’ who’d killed the man.

  “How many days did you say you’d been here, sir?”

  “Umm, just since last night.”

  “And you have proof that you weren’t in the area over the past week.”

  “Yes, I believe I can come up with proof of my whereabouts.”

  “Even so,” she continued, “I really am going to have to insist we step inside. A man has been killed, Mr ...?”

  “Sokolov,” he filled in for her. “Ivan Sokolov.”

  “Not from around here?”

  “Russia, originally, though I’ve lived here for more years than I can count.”

  “I see. Well, I suggest we go back inside, unless you’d prefer to do this down at the station?”

  His gaze shifted across her, flickering over her shoulder and back again. Yes, this man was definitely acting guilty. She couldn’t say what of yet, but he was hiding something.

  There was no way she could let him leave.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I really am going to have to insist.”

  A smile spread across his face, but it wasn’t a smile she trusted ... not yet anyway. It was all too easy to allow a handsome face to cloud a person’s thinking, but she wasn’t that kind of person. She was level-headed, and she wouldn’t allow him to charm her into not treating him how she’d treat any other suspect.

  The word surprised her. Suspect? Was that how she was thinking of him? He was a stranger in the right area, at the right time. Was he really capable of ripping out a man’s throat?

  That pale skin ... If she touched him, would he be cold?

  A shiver ran through her, and she immediately chastised herself for it. She’d never met a vampire in real life before. She knew they existed, of course she did, but Devon wasn’t exactly a typical vampire haunt.

  That smooth smile again. “That’s fine. I can always be late.” He gestured towards the hotel’s entrance. “Shall we?”

  Taking charge, she nodded and led the way. She and Stephen had been working all day to cover all the homes, bed and breakfasts, and hotels in the area, and she was exhausted, but this had to be done. They didn’t have the budget to cover what the chief was still saying was an animal attack, but her gut told her otherwise. What kind of animal in England was capable of pulling a grown man for a mile, without anyone hearing a thing? Not a single yell of pain or fear. It was as though whatever killed him had moved so quickly, he’d been unable to react or fight back. If it had been a big dog attack, or even a big cat, to support the rumours that one had been dumped on the moorland by a passing fairground, there would have been snarling, and the man would have fought. Even a big cat kill wouldn’t have brought him down so quickly.

  She stepped into the hotel. It was warm, comforting, familiar. Low ceilings and wood panelling, and over-patterned carpets that looked as though they’d seen better days. To one side, a cabinet displayed racks of leaflets to all the local attractions. These kinds of places were popular with hikers and families from up country, all wanting to explore the wilderness of the moors. Sadly, people often underestimated the terrain, however, and lives were lost. People fell from the high tors, trying to get a picture of themselves while perched on the rocks, or they got dragged into one of the numerous bogs, or the fog rolled in and they found themselves disorientated and lost. She’d dealt with a number of deaths up here, but never one like this.

  A small bar was through a door to the right. “Go and take a seat,” she told the man, Ivan Sokolov. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  She thought he was going to put up more of a fight, but he nodded and left her to go to the bar. Her uniform was already garnering a number of curious glances, and she smiled and nodded at anyone who caught her eye. The woman behind reception also smiled at her as she approached, but there was a nervousness to her eyes, which Charlie was used to seeing. Something about seeing a police officer always put people on edge.

  “Officer, how can I help you?” The receptionist kept the smile fixed to her face.

  “I’m going to need a list of all the people staying here last night. There’s been a death on the moors, and I need to speak with anyone who might have seen something. I’ll want to speak with you, as well.”

  She nodded. “Of course. How dreadful. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

  “Thank you. Just the list for the moment.”

  “Of course. I’ll have it with you shortly.”

  “I’ll just be through there.” Already, the dark-haired man was sitting at the bar, his suit jacket stretched across his shoulders. What was it about him? She was someone who trusted her instincts, and her insides had gone off like fireworks the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Was it just that something about her recognised that he might
not be human, or was it something more? And how did she approach the topic of him possibly not being human? What was the etiquette with that? Did she just come out and ask him? Because she couldn’t help feeling like if they had something paranormal in their midst, there was a good chance he was connected with the death on the moors.

  She left the reception to join him.

  “I took the liberty of ordering you a drink,” he said, motioning to the bar. He stood slightly as she approached and then sat back down when she took her place beside him.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” she said. “I’m on duty.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. It’s non-alcoholic.”

  “Thank you, Mr Sokolov.”

  “It’s Ivan, please.” His head tilted slightly as he regarded her. His eyes were terribly dark, so brown they were verging on black.

  She had to know.

  Though she knew it was completely unprofessional, she reached out and touched the back of his hand.

  The moment she did, she let out a gasp. Not only was his skin ice-cold, but images flooded her head like a flash of numerous photographs through her mind—faces she didn’t recognise, people in old-fashioned dress, a horse and cart struggling through snow-covered grounds. Money exchanging hands, kisses against naked skin, men fighting. And blood, so much blood. It was as though she experienced his entire lifetime in a matter of seconds.

  Charlie stumbled off her stool, almost falling. But strong, cool fingers caught her wrist and pulled her up again.

  “What ...?” She struggled to find her words. “What are you?”

  They’d started to gather attention from people nearby. To the outside world, it must have looked like he’d done something to her, when he hadn’t—at least not physically—so she forced a smile and retook her seat. She stared down at the tips of her fingers. “What the hell just happened?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure you’d believe me even if I told you.”

  “Told me what? You’re not human, are you?”

  “No, I’m not.” He fixed her with those dark eyes, and her heart raced.

  “You’re a vampire.” It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway.

  “Yes, I am. And I think you’re my Bloodmate.”

  “Your what?”

  “My Bloodmate. You saw inside me just then, didn’t you? Saw everything I was and everything I’ve ever been since.”

  “I ... I ... I don’t know what I saw.”

  “We’re connected, you and I. Destined.”

  “I don’t believe in people being destined.”

  “Not people. But vampires and Bloodmates, yes.”

  “That’s crazy. You don’t even know my name.”

  A slight smile tweaked his perfect lips. “No, but you’re going to tell me.”

  And she found she did. “It’s Charlene. Charlene Ramsden. But everyone calls me Charlie.”

  “If you saw inside me, you might be able to tell me what I did.”

  His words made her pause. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re looking for the person ... or creature ... who killed that man. What if I am that person?”

  Confusion flooded though her. “You mean you don’t know?”

  “I blacked out. I woke up with blood on my clothes.” His gaze shifted away. “I may be responsible but I can’t remember.” He brought his eyes back to hers. “Something called The Thirst has taken hold of me. I was going to go back to London to contact The Directive and let them deal with me, but now you’re here, and that changes everything.”

  “Does it? How?”

  “You’re my Bloodmate, and your presence keeps The Thirst at bay. I don’t feel the need to feed and f—” He’d been about to say something else, but cut himself off. “I feel better now I’m around you.”

  She shook her head. “This is insane. I should arrest you as a suspect.”

  He held both wrists out to her. “Then do it.”

  “I don’t have any proof, unless you’re planning on confessing, of course.”

  “Can I confess to something I have no memory of?”

  “Perhaps not, but there would be evidence of what you did if, in fact, you were responsible.”

  He glanced away. “There was blood. Lots of blood.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “I washed myself, but I still have the shirt.” He paused, and a slight frown crossed his brow. “I mean, I did have the shirt. I dumped it in the maid’s trolley on the way down.”

  “We’ll have to go and get it back. The lab will be able to match that blood to the DNA of the man who was killed.”

  “And if it wasn’t me who killed him?”

  She sat up straighter. “Then you’ll be free to go.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “So you’re going to arrest me?”

  “I don’t think you’ve left me with any choice.”

  Chapter 7

  Ivan knew he should run. Staying was most likely going to get him in a whole heap of trouble, but he also knew he couldn’t leave this woman’s side. The second he’d caught the scent of her, The Thirst had released its clutch at his throat, and the panic that had gripped him since waking faded away. Nothing else existed now except for her. The moment he’d scented her, he’d known she was his, and he was going to be hers. If only everything wasn’t so damned complicated. If he’d met her yesterday instead of today, then things would have been all right. Had he messed everything up before they’d even had the chance to meet?

  He’d watched this happen once before with his own progeny, and now it was happening to him. This woman was his Bloodmate, and he couldn’t just walk away from that. He needed her, wanted her, desired her more than anything else in his life, but he could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. She was a naturally sceptical person, and a human, no less, who didn’t look as though she’d had much contact with the paranormal world. She was going to take some convincing, and he’d be lucky if she didn’t slap a pair of cuffs around his wrists and haul him off to jail.

  But he’d had an effect on her; he knew he had. He’d sensed it in the race of her pulse, the way those perfect lips had parted, the hitching of her breath. He longed to yank her hair out of that prim bun and rake his fingers through her tresses. He wanted to tear off the restrictive police uniform and feast on the glorious body he was certain lay beneath.

  She thought he might be responsible for killing a man on the moors, however. Truth be told, he wasn’t totally sure he hadn’t been the one to do it either. She might be his Bloodmate, but that didn’t mean he was any good for her. She clearly had a successful life here. What good would he do her by coming into it? But at the same time, her role as a police officer was to keep people safe, and her being in his life would do that. Without her, he would continue to go on a downward spiral, and if blackouts were a part of The Thirst, there was no telling what he might be capable of.

  He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Perhaps he needed to call in The Directive and get them to make that decision for him. He knew what they’d say—that she needed to be with him, that Bloodmates were destined to be together, and their bond was more important than anything else. But would they think differently if they knew he’d already killed someone?

  “I need to contact The Directive,” he told her. “If the man’s death is down to me, then it’s because The Thirst took hold, and that is their jurisdiction. I know you probably won’t believe me, but that isn’t who I am normally. I’m not going to pretend I don’t feed on blood, but normally only from a blood bank, or from a willing participant. I wouldn’t kill someone I fed from.”

  “So maybe you weren’t the one responsible,” she said.

  “If it wasn’t me, then I’m afraid you might have something else to worry about.”

  “Let’s get your shirt back and then go down to the station and find out.”

  He didn’t want to go down to the station, but what choice did he have? He needed to be with this woman, and she needed t
o find out who was responsible for the death. If it was him, then they’d have to get The Directive in to deal with him. His heart tightened at the thought. He’d only just found her, and now there was a chance he’d lose her again before they’d even had the chance to get to know each other.

  “What if I choose not to?”

  Her shoulders straightened. “Then you’ll force me to arrest you.”

  “I’m a vampire. I’m afraid you’ll find it difficult to arrest me if I choose not to let you. I’m stronger than you’ll ever be, and I’m fast, too. You could lock me in a cell, but I’ll simply bend back the bars and step out again.”

  She seemed to consider his words. “If you could have done all of those things, why are you sitting here with me now? You could have run the moment you saw me, but you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  They sat, staring at each other, and everyone else in the room fell away. The space between them tingled with charge, and he longed to cross it, to lean in and tangle his fingers in her hair and push her back across the bar. His cock stiffened at the thought. She might not know it yet, but that was what they were destined to do, and though she looked as though she’d punch him in the mouth and then sit astride him and handcuff him if he so much as attempted something like that, somehow that made her even more enticing. This woman wasn’t the kind to go fawning over him just because of his appearance or how much money he had. No, she valued integrity above all else. He’d not lived a flawless life—far from it—but maybe she would be the woman to change all of that.

  Assuming he didn’t end up being taken down by The Directive for his part in current events, of course.

  “Okay. Take me wherever you need me to go, but there are three things you need to agree to first.”

  “You shouldn’t be the one making demands in this situation.”

  “You don’t have any choice. Agree to them or I’ll run.”

  Her full lips thinned, but she gave a single nod. “Tell me.”

  “The first is that I’ll need to be somewhere away from any windows by sunrise. The sun will kill me.”

 

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