Claimed by the Immortal tc-4

by Rachel Lee

  Then in a single instant, two things happened. First she realized she was suddenly all alone on this street. Chloe disappeared around the corner after the woman and there wasn’t another soul in sight.

  Then her skin began to crawl almost as if it were covered with ants. She wasn’t alone, for all she couldn’t see another soul. Something was there, watching, threatening.

  And it seemed to be touching her.

  A momentary panic fluttered her heart, but years as a cop had told her how to take that and turn it into something useful. She stood frozen, perfectly still, and since she didn’t know what else to do, she used every ounce of will she had to drive the sensation away.

  Despite the chill, sweat broke out on her brow as if she were making a huge physical effort. Willpower. She was accustomed to using it to make herself do difficult things, but she had never thought of it as something capable of driving away an external force. But what else did she have as a tool?

  She envisioned her will as a tangible thing, to be focused on and strengthened with every bit of her being. Driving away all other thoughts, she focused on the strength within her and used it to send a mental blast: get away!

  Instantly, the crawling sensation vanished, although not the feeling of being watched. Before she could test what she had accomplished any further, she heard the rapid pounding of footsteps and Chloe calling out, “Are you all right?”

  She opened her eyes and saw Chloe racing up. “Fine. I’m fine. Just for a minute there I felt...attacked. How’s the woman?”

  “She took the cab to the hospital. I made the driver promise not to take her anywhere else. But...I felt something, too, Caro. What was it?”

  “I don’t know. That elemental maybe. I pushed it back.”

  Chloe’s dark-rimmed eyes widened. “You did?” Then she let out a yip. “Yes!”

  Caro almost smiled. “Hold on there. I’m not sure I did it.”

  “I bet you did!” But then Chloe’s grin faded. “We have to go back now. Frankly, I don’t want to face either Jude or Damien if anything happens to you. You got your test run—now be sensible.”

  Caro couldn’t argue and, truthfully, she didn’t want to. She’d learned something out here, and now she needed time to think about it and try to figure out what it meant. Clearly out here on the street, gris-gris notwithstanding, she was subject to at least minor attacks.

  Nodding to Chloe, she turned and they took the shortest path back to the office.

  Chapter 9

  “You did what?”

  Caro faced Damien, her feet firmly planted, and thrust out her chin. “We went for a walk. I can’t stand being caged. Besides, I wanted to try out my so-called powers.”

  “Something may have attacked her,” Chloe said unhelpfully. “But she fought it off.”

  Damien unleashed a string of what sounded like German, and it certainly sounded like a bunch of curse words. One or two of them, Caro thought she almost recognized. Like Scheisse or something close to it.

  “Relax,” Jude said, sounding amused. “She’s still with us, isn’t she?”

  “Relax?” Damien thundered. “After what happened to the Pritchetts, how am I supposed to relax? She could have died while I was dead!”

  The statement struck Caro as absurd. Died while he was dead? It sounded so ludicrous that she couldn’t quite stifle a giggle. He glared at her.

  But even as part of her recognized the absurd in his statement, another part of her realized why he was so frustrated. He’d devoted himself, willingly or not, to protecting her, and during the hours when he’d been unable to do so, she’d taken a huge risk. Of course he was angry. But she suspected the anger was self-directed at his own helplessness during daylight hours.

  That understanding made her feel bad because it was something she could easily identify with. One of her biggest frustrations as a cop was being unable to prevent things from happening. She spent her life dealing with the aftermath of events that shouldn’t have happened.

  She stared at Damien, taking in his explosive frustration, and offered all she could. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “You’d better not. Damn it, I’ll handcuff you to me while I sleep if I have to.”

  She believed him. But instead of getting angry at the threat, she felt an entirely unexpected shiver of pleasure, as if some part of her responded sensually to the idea of being cuffed to him.

  Where had that come from? Never before had she felt the least inclination toward kinkiness. Except now she seemed to be involved in the kinkiest relationship possible, one where the drinking of her blood caused her extraordinary pleasure. What was a handcuff in the face of that?

  Damien took a few steps, moving almost too fast to see, then he stopped and faced her. His expression had softened a bit, and he no longer looked furious. “My life has limitations. I’m sorry they cause you so much difficulty.”

  “No!” She was horrified that she had made him feel that way. So what if he needed to sleep during the daylight? She needed to sleep herself. Nobody could be there all day every day. “You’re not causing me difficulty. Damien...everybody needs to sleep sometime.”

  At that a harsh laugh escaped him. “You needn’t be kind to me. But please understand. If something had happened and you were here, in this office, we could have wakened to help you, however difficult it would have been. Just as you can wake if you’re needed. For you to be out on the street alone... It doesn’t bear thinking.”

  “I was there,” Chloe pointed out sharply. “Sheesh, I’m not nobody. And Caro evidently learned a lot that she needs to learn. How was she supposed to do that with you hovering around like an avenging angel?”

  That drew a bark of laughter from Jude. “I don’t know about you, Damien, but I don’t think I’ve ever been likened to an angel before.”

  “Least of all an avenging one,” he agreed, but the fury appeared to have seeped from him. His gaze returned to Caro, and he frowned faintly. “We have to work this out somehow, in a way that doesn’t endanger you.”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” Chloe said tartly. “She drove the thing off herself!”

  “I at least pushed it back,” Caro said hesitantly.

  “Do you remember how?” Damien asked. “Do you think you can do it again?”

  “I think so.”

  At that, Damien smiled. “So, you made a big step.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Pushing it back is not the same as getting rid of it,” he agreed. “Nor is it a guarantee of protection. For one thing, it was daylight, a time when many powers are weaker. We still have to find the source and get him or her to call this thing off.”

  There was still that, Caro thought glumly. Now it was night again, when foul things evidently came into ascendance. “I guess it’s not just the human inability to see well at night that causes us to fear the darkness.”

  “Not entirely, no,” Damien agreed. “I wish I understood the connection, because it would be a useful tool. But I can tell you that in all my centuries I’ve noticed that something happens after darkfall. As if some kind of constraint is eased.”

  Chloe spoke. “I suppose that’s why ghost hunters are always hunting ghosts in the dark.”

  “Partly,” Jude agreed.

  “Partly?”

  “Well, there are fewer distractions in the dark, for one thing. Fewer things that can be misinterpreted. But Damien’s right. I’ve noticed it, too. The witching hour really is the witching hour.”

  “I’ve wondered,” Damien said, “if this doesn’t happen because humans are at their most unguarded and weakest during those hours between midnight and dawn.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” Jude agreed.

  “Whatever the reason, we still have some more places to check out, Caro and I. You have that list of proposed demolitions, Chloe?”

  “I’ll take some of them, too,” Jude said.

  So a little while later, filled up on the sandwich she and Chloe h
ad shared, Caro left Messenger Investigations with Damien.

  This time he didn’t want to bother with the car. “It’ll slow us down, and right now I feel this matter is dragging on entirely too long.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “Yes. The longer it goes on, the harder it will be to repair whatever gateway was opened.”

  “Gateway?”

  “Later. Zip up. I’m carrying you on my back.”

  She didn’t mind that at all. She enjoyed the sensation of flying, even though she couldn’t see a darn thing, and she especially enjoyed being wrapped around Damien this way, even if it was from behind.

  What the hell, she thought. She might as well admit she had a serious case of the hots, as Chloe would say, for a vampire. She wanted him, wanted to go all the way with him, at least short of that claiming business that worried him. It was kind of ridiculous to realize they’d been so intimate on a couple of occasions yet they’d never lain naked together. How odd was that?

  But he’d already shown her he could take her to places she had never imagined. While she didn’t think she was addicted or would grieve for the rest of her life if she could never visit them again, she was certain that she wanted to experience more and go further with him.

  She hoped the wind of their passage was blowing away her pheromones because with his hips so snug between her legs, she felt heavy heat pooling between her thighs, a longing that made her tighten her legs around him. Every movement of muscle rubbed her most sensitive nerves through her jeans, heightening her desire.

  She pressed her face against Damien’s back to protect it more from the cutting wind and experienced a moment of instant clarity. What the hell was she thinking? A short time ago she hadn’t even believed in vampires, and now she was almost out of her mind with hunger to have sex with one. How did that fit in the world of Caro Hamilton, cop?

  It didn’t. But Caro Hamilton, cop, had seen her world change in an instant when a murder victim had gone flying through the air, propelled by an invisible force. She would never again be the woman she had once been.

  But if she had to be attracted to someone, why a vampire of all things?

  God, the world had spun at least ninety degrees. Nothing looked the same anymore. Crazy with desire for a vampire and now discovering powers she had denied her whole life long.

  She had definitely fallen down the rabbit hole and couldn’t figure out how to put the brakes on.

  They alighted finally on a rooftop in the southern end of the city, the oldest part. Urban renewal had been proposed here more than once and had always failed. At least until Pritchett had become involved.

  She rubbed her cheeks to warm them and looked around. “What now?”

  “This is one of the buildings he got permission to demolish. Do you suppose if we wander up and down the stairs here we might meet some people who will talk to us?”

  She glanced at him. “You can make them talk, can’t you?” Her watch told her it was still early enough for people to be out and about. Not everyone would be home for the night. “Let’s go.”

  He opened the roof access door as if it wasn’t locked. Perhaps it wasn’t. Most threats in this city didn’t come from the tops of buildings.

  Inside it was warm. Heat had risen along the stairwell, and as soon as it met her cheeks, they began to sting.

  “I’m going to have to get a ski mask if I keep traveling by vampire.”

  Damien cracked a laugh.

  At least they descended the stairs at a reasonable speed, a human speed. Unfortunately Caro had been wrong. They didn’t encounter anyone on the stairs except some kids running up, and they were too young to talk to.

  Finally they reached the street and stepped outside. And right next door was a bookshop called Books, Bells and Candles.

  They exchanged glances and without a word headed for the door.

  Like many such places, it looked old and as if it were operating on a shoestring. Caro wondered if she would choke on the dust if she moved a book. A wall of candles, most of them looking religious, filled the back of the store. Behind the counter were sets of things like tarot cards and the I Ching.

  A tiny woman, who looked like a dried prune, sat in a rocker next to a space heater. She greeted them with a smile. “Come to throw me out?”

  “Why would we do that?” Caro asked.

  “Well, they gave us all eviction notices. Next month, they said.”

  “The man who was planning that is dead.”

  “I know. Sad thing. His family, too.” The woman shook her head, tsking quietly. “Now, who would want to harm children, I ask. Makes for some very bad juju.”

  “It does,” Caro agreed. “No, we were just wondering what folks here were planning to do now. Have you all found someplace to go?”

  “Didn’t get a whole lot of notice. Folks are mad.”

  “What about you?”

  The woman shrugged. “Does it look like I have anything to worry about? I was thinking of moving to Seattle to live with my daughter anyway. This place barely makes the rent every month. You get old, you get set in your ways, but sometimes you have to change.”

  “But others are angry?”

  “Of course. They’ve lived here all their lives, just as I have. The place may be ugly, but it’s still standing. Can’t figure out why folks need to move. I’m not even sure how you could make this place any better. You looked around the neighborhood? Tell me what high roller would want to live in the middle of this.”

  “That’s a good question,” Caro admitted. “But I don’t know what the man’s plans are. I was just disturbed because I figured folks here would be upset by this.”

  “Damned upset,” the woman agreed. She peered at Caro. “You some kind of social worker?”

  “Of sorts. I’m just trying to figure out how everyone’s handling this.”

  “Some is mad, like I said. Some might even want to get even. Kinda late for that, since the man is dead, though. Worst they can do is damage a building that’s going to be blowing up anyway.”

  “That could change now,” Caro offered again.

  The woman snorted. “Rich men have big companies that keep on even after they die. Not like my little business.”

  “I can check into that for you.”

  “Won’t make no difference. Somebody did something bad. Imagine killing a whole family like that.” The woman shook her head.

  Damien spoke for the first time, and his voice shifted to that timbre that Caro had come to recognize. “Do you know anyone who might be into casting spells to hurt anybody?”

  The woman’s eyes glazed. “There’s talk. There’s always talk. But you need a bokor for that. Look for a bokor.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I hear whispers, but they don’t tell me.” She lifted a hand, touching a crucifix that hung around her neck. “No truck with the dark powers. Not me. I value my soul.”

  “Any ideas who might be involved?”

  “Not me, and I don’t want to know.”

  Outside on the street, Damien paused and Caro watched as he closed his eyes. He drew several deep breaths through his nose as if testing the air. Then he astonished her.

  Holding out his hand, palm down, he moved his fingers a bit as if feeling the air. Caro’s jaw dropped at what she saw next. There was a sparkle, a faint blue glittering around the ends of his fingers, and she could have sworn she saw a crackle of electricity pass among them.

  As soon as he dropped his hand and opened his eyes, she demanded, “What the hell was that? What did you just do?”

  “You saw?”

  “I saw. Electricity around your fingers.”

  “Amazing.”

  “Damien!”

  He smiled faintly. “Things are coming back to me from my distant past. I was feeling the air for powers, sending out my senses in a quest. That thing is still hovering nearby, but nothing else. Nothing that would lead us to its source. It’s not here. We need
to keep looking.”

  “So what’s new,” she muttered as she followed him into a deserted alley. He hoisted her on his back, and the crazy roller-coaster ride started all over again.

  Now she had to deal with what she had just seen him do, and she had a million questions that were clearly going to have to wait.

  Just what kind of powers did he have that he could make sparks like that with his fingertips and be so certain that the source of the evil pursuing her was not there?

  Oh, she was going to give him the third degree when she had a minute. A police officer knew how to question.

  * * *

  Caro’s powers were growing as were his own. Damien could feel it. He wondered if that was because they were both trying, or if it was a growing reaction to the elemental that hovered near her most of the time.

  Wondering didn’t change it, however, nor did thinking about it answer the question. Probably a combination of both, he decided.

  He was having trouble keeping his focus, though. Having Caro so tightly wound around him was delightful, and although the wind spared him her mesmerizing scents, he picked up a faint whiff every time they stopped. Her blood, her delicious blood, surely the finest of champagnes. Her desire, waves that always seemed to be there, sometimes ebbing but never gone.

  The Hunger in him, also never gone, tried to rise and dictate his actions. It wanted him to lay her down on one of those icy building roofs and take her thoroughly and completely, entering her and drinking from her at the same time.

  The woman was going to drive him mad.

  For centuries he hadn’t really thought about it. Certainly not when he’d lived in Persia and tempting delicacies had come to him willingly, making offerings of themselves. He’d made a kind of peace with the changing times and had learned to find his quarry in ways that harmed no one.

  But he’d never really thought about the deep grip of the Hunger on him. How it affected him. How it could cloud his thinking. How it could dominate him.

  Mainly because there’d never been a reason before. Now there was, and that reason was Caro. Simply Caro. He thought he’d tested the dimensions of his Hunger before, but he was learning he hadn’t even come close.