Darkness Calls

by Caridad Piñeiro

  And then he felt the power of her climax as it washed over her and dragged him downward into the depths of their darkness. Beneath his mouth, her pulse beat forcefully, the rhythm of it matching the need surging within him.

  A need he couldn’t deny any longer.

  He bit down.

  The sharp, stinging pain against her neck forced her to cry out and arch her back. She tried to pull away until the pain was replaced by a searing, pulsing fire that worked its way through her body. It spread across her, setting her nerves ablaze, bringing a strange kind of pleasure along with the pain.

  Her world shimmered as the flames licked along her nerve endings. She continued to hold him tight, her body wrapped around him. Urging him on as her release continued until she was light-headed and barely able to breathe. Still, she cradled him close.

  Her blood was earthy against Ryder’s lips, spiced with their mutual passion. He drank and drank of her as the fire of their joining continued. The blood enervated him with a strength that he had never experienced before. And he knew she felt it, as well, from the way her body shifted against his and the soft guttural cries of pleasure that spilled from her lips.

  Ryder was lost, trapped by the animal. He continued to move in her, driven by bloodlust. She answered, holding him, calling out his name as he fed from her until her body went limp in his arms.

  It was then that some small measure of sanity told him to stop. He would kill her if he couldn’t master what they were experiencing together.

  He reared back, breathing heavily. Her blood stained his lips as he realized she had nearly passed out. Her eyes were wide and she struggled to focus on his face. His animal face, he thought with a disgust that immediately tamped the fire of their passion and brought the beast under control.

  “Easy, darlin’. Easy,” he crooned, stroking her face with a shaky hand and withdrawing from her. His fangs retreated, but the taste of her lingered on his lips.

  Her eyes drifted closed and she shook her head. As her body went limp, he cursed beneath his breath and picked her up in his arms.

  Chapter 19

  Diana came awake slowly, a vague disorientation making her groggy. Groaning, she clasped one hand to her head and realized that she was lying along the length of Ryder on the sofa in his office. She opened her eyes, met his concerned gaze and rose up on one elbow so she could see his face better. “What happened?”

  “We got carried away and…I think the French call it ‘la petite morte,’ he replied uneasily, and shifted their bodies so that she sat in his lap and he held her steady.

  She examined his face, wondering. She’d never passed out during sex, but then again, she’d never experienced that kind of pleasure with anyone else. She remembered that much, but, as she met his gaze once again, she was sure there was more. Her body confirmed it as the soreness between her legs gave testament to how intensely they had loved each other. There had been something else there—lustful and dark and…She buried her face in her hands and murmured, “Tell me we didn’t do it against—”

  “The wall?” he finished, one dark eyebrow raised.

  Diana jumped out of his arms. Assorted muscles protested and her head whirled. This was wrong, she thought as a weakness that was almost unnatural rocked her. She looked up at him again. “What happened?” she asked, accusation thick in her voice.

  “It was more intense than either of us expected.”

  She didn’t know what to believe. There was a kaleidoscope of conflicting images racing through her brain. He took her into his arms and held her tightly. “You need to rest. Come lie with me.”

  Diana hesitated, unsure if that was the wisest thing to do, but she was too physically and emotionally battered to do anything else. She hated this weakness, and she hated that it was a result of succumbing to her baser instincts. To the darkness she thought she had mastered long ago.

  And even though she let him guide her back to the sofa and into his arms, she hated him for exposing her frailty.

  Ryder stood by the railing on the patio, watching the sunrise. The rays bathed the land with brightness and light. With warmth…

  The sun was low in the horizon. Still not strong enough to hurt him, but it would be soon. He could sense it. He smelled the coming of the dawn, and felt it in the muscles and sinews of his body. It was a vampire thing. Just like better hearing and sight, and extra strength, stamina and healing. Although in retrospect, the strength was not necessarily enough when one went up against a trained fighter. Diana had proved that.

  Just as Diana had proved the wonders of some of his other gifts, like bites that healed within minutes and brought forgetfulness. The person bitten was slightly muzzy, as if they suffered the aftereffects of drunkenness. Unless it was the ultimate bite—the one that made someone a vampire.

  Such wonderful gifts, Ryder thought with anger, and gripped the railing of the patio tighter. The sun rose higher and his body screamed for him to get indoors. To avoid the rays of the sun that would rob him of his strength, and eventually, if he stayed there long enough, kill him.

  Maybe that was what he deserved, Ryder thought, his guilt strong. Like any other victim, Diana had awoken with no idea of what had happened, but he’d sensed her unease even as she kissed him goodbye. She’d known things weren’t right. It was only a matter of time until…

  His cell phone rang and the caller ID showed that it was Diana. Ryder couldn’t answer, unable to deal with her just yet. The ringing stopped, but started up a moment later.

  He placed the phone into the cradle on his belt and gripped the railing again as the rays of the sun warmed the exposed parts of his body. The heat grew, until pain sizzled along his skin, not unlike what he felt when the change came over him.

  Only, this change would be permanent—if he stayed out here long enough…By noon he’d be gone. And maybe, after nearly two centuries of a painful and lonely existence that would be for the best.

  The phone rang again, its chirp like that of an artificial bird. A footfall came behind him. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

  He turned and faced Melissa. She was still in her pajamas and was hastily tying the sash on her robe. When she reached his side, she took hold of his arm and yanked. “Ryder. Come on. You have to get inside.”

  “Why, Melissa? So I can live for another hundred years? Maybe even another two hundred years…alone?” he snapped, pain lacing every word.

  Surprise flashed over her face. Surprise and regret. “When I mentioned the condoms…” She dropped his arm, turned and walked away from him, then slowly faced him once more. “Tell me you didn’t—”

  “Fall in love? Make love? Maybe even bite her?” Ryder advanced on his companion, the pain of the sun as it touched his skin forgotten thanks to the greater ache in his heart.

  “You didn’t turn her, did you?” Melissa asked fearfully.

  “I didn’t but…” Ryder raked a hand through his hair and his joints ached as he did so. His exposure to the sun was beginning to take its toll on his body. How much longer would it take? he wondered. Would it be painful? Would it be harder than facing the pain in his heart?

  Melissa laid a hand in the middle of his back. “You can do this, if you want to be a coward. If you want to leave her wondering…”

  Ryder couldn’t bear to hurt Diana, but that was the most likely outcome of all of this. Once she knew the truth of his existence.

  Ryder turned and walked into the upper hall. Melissa closed the French doors with their special UV-blocking glass behind them.

  “What will you tell her?”

  Ryder had been asking himself that all night long. He had to end it. He had to make her not want to see him again.

  His cell phone rang again. Melissa looked down at it, then up at him, and motioned for him to answer. He did.

  “Hello, Diana. How are you feeling?” He closed his eyes, picturing her as they made love.

  “I’m weird, Ryder. We need to talk about last night. About where
we go from here,” she said, and there was something in her voice that told him she wasn’t going to run. It brought both joy and despair.

  And he knew suddenly what he had to do to make the break.

  “I can see you tonight. At the club…Meet me in the alley at two, after you’re done with the stakeout,” he said, hating what he was going to do but knowing there was no other way.

  They’d tracked down a dozen possible leads that matched the pattern she and the others had worked out at the morgue. In the few short hours left to them that Tuesday afternoon, they’d managed to find all of the suspects. Four were behind bars, two were dead and the other four seemed to be leading trouble-free lives. Of the four who had the freedom to commit the acts, two were too far away—one in Los Angeles and the other in Philadelphia. The other two each had solid alibis for the nights in question.

  Diana slouched down into her chair and let out a tired sigh. In less than an hour it was back to The Lair and a fresh stakeout. Maybe they’d have some luck with either Greg the bartender or Doug the bouncer.

  She dragged a hand through her hair and went to stand by the window. In the late summer sun, everything was bright and golden. It would be another hour or two before dusk came and brought the darkness. The killer wouldn’t come out until then. He’d wait before heading to the club to pick his next victim. He’d charm her, buy her a drink or two, make her feel comfortable. Making her feel as if she could trust him. And then he’d slip a roofie into the beverage.

  He had to have a car nearby, and Diana had already had her squad check for parking violations in the area. Tonight, she had an extra contingent of police ready to scour the blocks around the scene, checking license plate numbers. Matching the registered owners with what physical evidence they had from the killer would limit the number of suspects.

  And then there was that last bit of evidence—the analysis of the stuff in the last victim’s hair. A strange piece of evidence Diana wasn’t sure what to do with. Tests had shown the foreign matter to be olive oil, garlic, parsley and lemon. It was a mixture Diana was well familiar with—it formed the basis for many sauces in a variety of Latino recipes. How that tied the victim to the killer, if at all, was a puzzle. No food was served at Ryder’s club, so The Lair was not where the sauce had gotten on the victim. Had it come from dinner or an after-dance snack with the killer? Was that where he’d slipped her the roofie instead of at the nightclub? Had the victim brushed against something during the course of the day and not noticed? Why hadn’t the two other victims had something similar?

  Diana took a quick look at her reflection in the mirror, satisfied with the bib halter and black leather pants she wore for tonight’s surveillance. She planted her hands on her hips and sighed harshly. The killer was leading them on a merry chase and there was no certainty that he would strike again today.

  “Diana?” David stood at the door of her office. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his faded black jeans. He, too, had gotten dressed for the night and sported a black T-shirt and black leather jacket. The color enhanced his golden surfer-boy looks. “Are you ready?”

  “You driving?”

  David knew her too well by now not to realize she was either distracted or trying her best to hide something from him. “Don’t you need your car for after or are you meeting Ryder again?”

  “You don’t like him, I know. But I can handle him.”

  He blew out a harsh laugh and shook his head. “What you need to be handling right now is this investigation.”

  “Are you implying I’m not? That I’m somehow not doing something I should be?”

  “You know I’m not, but—”

  “Then what is it? What’s bugging you?”

  “Don’t shut me out, Di. I’m your partner. Don’t make me try to guess what’s going on.”

  “There’s nothing there that concerns you.”

  He rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. “This thing with you and Ryder. It’s interfering with us.”

  “Us?” She motioned to the two of them. “You and I are only partners, David. Nothing that’s going on with Ryder is—”

  “Only partners?” His voice was loud and edged with exasperation. “That’s harsh. I thought we were friends, too, but I guess I was wrong.”

  Diana closed her eyes and cursed beneath her breath at her thoughtlessness. “David, I’m sorry. You are my friend and—”

  “Ryder? What is he to you, Di? What is it about—”

  “He’s my lover.”

  David stood there for a moment. His face registered the shock of her admission. Then his mouth flopped up and down, like a fish freshly pulled from the water. When he croaked, “Listen, Di,” she slipped her palm over his mouth to silence him.

  “This is too new, David. Too uncertain. Can you understand that?”

  He nodded and she eased her hand away with a weak smile. “We will talk about it soon, but for now…I just need to think about this myself. Get a handle on what’s happening.” She took hold of his hand and gave it a shake. “Come on, partner. Time to hit those mean streets.”

  Chapter 20

  Ryder stood high above the crowd in the maze of catwalks close to the ceiling. She was down there, somewhere below. He had yet to find her, but he could feel her presence. Even catch a slight trace of the scent of her. She was his mate now. Well, for the moment, until he could…

  He tightened his grip on the metal railing until his hands hurt. It was difficult to think of what he had to do. The pain was intense. Bone deep. It would be a part of him for a long time.

  His senses came awake suddenly, yanking him from his thoughts. She was closer. He sniffed the air, and her unique aroma teased him. Leaning over the railing, he examined the crowd below, anxious for a glimpse.

  He couldn’t see her. His heart sped up a beat and he closed his eyes, listening carefully. The animal in him filtered out every noise but the matching rhythm of her heart, beating below.

  He moved, following the sound, to the farthest edge of the walk, just feet away from the bar. He opened his eyes, glanced down and there she was, seated with David. They were speaking with Greg, the bartender.

  Ryder’s heart pounded even harder and his body leapt to life. Blood screamed through his veins, bringing with it the heat that signaled his change. The animal had tasted her and now sprang to life in the hope of having more. He breathed deeply, trying to marshall the beast so he could go below and hold her one last time.

  Something inside of her came to life.

  She looked around, searching for him. Knowing he was there, watching her. Her skin nearly crackled from the energy of him and she shivered.

  “Diana?” David laid a hand on her arm.

  “I’m okay,” she said, responding to his unasked question. She rose and checked out the crowd, wondering where Ryder was.

  Her partner looked around. “Is he here?” David asked.

  “Yes.” Something pulled her attention to the ceiling. Because of the lighting, there was only the dark silhouette of a man on the walkway, but she knew it was Ryder. She would have known him anywhere.

  Just as she sensed that he wanted her to go out into the crowd and meet him. To share a dance before the two o’clock meeting in the alley. “I have to go, David. It’s time we tried to attract the killer.”

  David tracked her gaze, but by the time he glanced upward, there was only the faint movement in the catwalk. Diana moved into the center of the crowd and met one of the agents acting as a decoy. She started to dance, in a world of her own. Ryder appeared at the edge of the dance floor, but moved no farther. Even as Diana turned to face him, Ryder remained along the edge. Watching. Waiting.

  He stood with the crowd along the periphery and yet apart from it. Alone. His gaze was riveted on her and she danced for him, even as she kept a part of her focused on the crowd.

  It was difficult, for, even from t
his distance, the pull of attraction was strong. She was on the edge and ready to let herself fall. As her gaze locked with his, a frisson of desire snaked along her nerves. Her nipples tightened and a pulsing throb resonated through her body.

  But Diana couldn’t let it go further. A colleague who had been on the floor before came back to her, inviting her to dance with him once again. At the edge of the crowd, Ryder nodded, but stayed where he was, his attention solely on her.

  She moved to the beat of the music and refocused her thoughts on the job at hand—catching the killer. A killer who might be at the club right now, selecting another woman as his prey.

  A young man approached. He was fair, with dark brown hair and the beginnings of a goatee. Piercing blue eyes snared her gaze as he smiled at her.

  She knew the killer was sandy-haired and clean-shaven, and she was inclined to ignore this young man. But there was something about him that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. A normal woman would have run, but in her line of work, that feeling meant something was worth checking out. Diana stepped away from her colleague and accepted the outstretched hand of the young man. His grin widened. He placed her hand on his shoulder and put his hand at her waist.

  Diana gave herself over to her role while taking mental notes about her dance partner. He was average height, just an inch or two below six feet. Twentyish and with a body that was fit, from health clubs and not physical work. His hand had moved beyond the low waist of her leather pants and was now on her bare skin. His palm wasn’t soft, but it lacked the harder calluses of someone used to physical labor.

  She examined his face as he moved his hand up her bare back, tracing the line of her spine with his fingers in a way that sent a shiver through her. He took her response as one of desire, and his eyes darkened to a shade of blue-gray.

  “Do you like?” he asked.

  “Very much.”

  He exerted pressure, bringing her snug against him. As he did, she noticed that he had recently shaved. There was a slight nick at the edge of his jaw and a spot he had missed. A spot of rough beard that was blondish.