A Taste of Twilight

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A Taste of Twilight Page 3

by Aubrey Ross


  Natalie cast Matt into silent thrall as Lisa adjusted her position. With her knees bent nearly to her chest, Lisa rocked forward and back, sliding her body up and down the length of Matt’s shaft. His thick pole looked especially obscene nestled in between her lily-white ass cheeks.

  Now, my love. Let’s feed together. Lisa continued rocking as Natalie and Etoro lifted Matt’s wrists to their mouths. They drank slowly, savoring the hot lust-infused essence of Matt’s young life.

  Unaware of her lover’s fate, Lisa raised and lowered her hips, taking his shaft deep again and again. “Why is everyone so quiet? Do you want us in a different position?”

  “Yes.” Natalie moved forward, into Lisa’s line of sight. “Matt, hold perfectly still. Lisa, lie back against his chest. I want to see all of you.” They supported Lisa’s back as she reclined against Matt. Fear erupted in her eyes as she looked from Natalie to Etoro. “Is his cock still hard inside you?”

  “Not as hard as it was. Is he okay?”

  “Close your eyes and don’t make a sound,” Etoro said. “If you just surrender, there will be no pain.”

  Why did he have to reassure them? Natalie enjoyed it when they struggled. True, fear tainted their blood, made it taste bitter, but the rush of energy was well worth the less-appealing taste. Etoro stroked Lisa’s hand as he brought her wrist to his mouth. Natalie sank her fangs deep without hesitation or warning. Lisa whimpered, her body lax and malleable.

  Natalie and Etoro stared into each other’s eyes over the bodies of their new toys. They fed. They gorged. They reveled in another successful conquest.

  Natalie drew back, licking the blood from her lips. “Roll them to their sides. I want them entwined when they’re found.”

  Careful to keep Matt’s cock buried deep inside Lisa’s ass, Etoro shifted them to their sides. He wrapped Matt’s arms around Lisa then folded her arms over Matt’s.

  Natalie stood back and watched, her hunger satisfied for the moment. “They look so sweet.” She chuckled and retrieved the suicide pact they had prepared earlier. Etoro placed the note beside the dying couple and used his fingernail to slash their wrists.

  Chapter Two

  Jessie jerked her arm out of Rafe’s grasp and assumed a fighting stance.

  “Rafe, calm down.” Marissa stepped in front of Jessie then glanced over her shoulder and asked, “Are you a reporter?”

  “No.”

  The door at the top of the stairs opened again and a stream of excited people crowded the staircase.

  “You will come with me,” Rafe said in the same commanding tone he’d used on Dalton.

  “You will kiss my ass.” Jessie punctuated her rejoinder with a provoking smile.

  “Obviously she’s gifted, so stop trying to bully her.” Marissa turned to Jessie. “Something strange is going on. Rafe isn’t going to hurt you. Just answer his questions honestly.”

  Interpreting Marissa’s comments as permission, Rafe grabbed Jessie’s arm and hauled her toward the door through which the other members of the band had disappeared. She tugged against his hold, but his grip was unbreakable. “How did you… What…” She couldn’t complete the questions without confirming his assumption. How had he known she was clairvoyant, and what had he done with his voice? Dalton hadn’t batted an eye as he turned and walked away.

  Rafe opened the door and nudged her into the dressing room. Phillip Noir turned and grinned at her, eyes narrowed with speculation. A shiver ran down Jessie’s spine. If Rafe was the personification of lust, then Phillip exemplified danger.

  “Do we get to play with another reporter?” Phillip’s whiskey brown eyes glimmered.

  “She insists she’s not a reporter, but her escort was the bug.” Rafe shrugged. “I’m not sure what to do with her.”

  Phillip chuckled as he ambled forward. It was impossible to appreciate the true power of his presence from the stage. Tattoos decorated both arms and the portion of his chest left bare by his leather vest. He’d changed his clothes and styled his jet black hair. Jessie suddenly wished she had her gun.

  “I’d be happy to offer a few suggestions, but we can’t all hide in here. Someone has to entertain our guests.”

  “Is being near us enough, or do you need to touch?” Rafe asked.

  Jessie sucked in a breath. Did Rafe realize what she was trying to learn or just that she was trying to scan them?

  “This sounds like fun,” Phillip drawled. “Maybe I will stick around.”

  “No, you need to get out there just like you said.” Rafe nudged her toward Phillip. “If you need to touch him, get it over with.”

  Phillip took her hands and drew her closer. “Any particular place you need to touch?”

  How the hell was she supposed to concentrate? There was entirely too much testosterone in this room. Phillip stared into her eyes as she raised her hands and framed his face. She licked her lips and he licked his. Damn it! He was mocking her. Closing her eyes, she prayed her ability would kick in quickly. Her heart couldn’t take much more of this.

  Phillip’s warm palms mirrored her touch. She shivered and a steady stream of images flowed into her mind. Performances, recording sessions, endless hours of travel, parties and photo shoots. This was all so routine. Where was the debauchery and excess?

  “Satisfied?” Rafe’s voice came from behind her.

  “I didn’t realize satisfaction was the goal.” Phillip wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against the firm heat of his lean body. “Let’s try this again.”

  Rafe peeled Phillip’s arms off her with a throaty growl. “Get out of here.”

  Chad and Jason emerged from the back room moments after Phillip left. Jessie scanned their minds and found more of the same. A gorgeous woman with strawberry blonde hair appeared in both of their memories, but that seemed to be the only anomaly.

  “What are you looking for?” Rafe asked when they were finally alone.

  Jessie hesitated. This had been so neat and tidy, as if they’d meticulously filtered the images. Real life didn’t work that way for Average Joe, much less the members of a rock band. “Who would want to spy on you?” If they could control what she sensed, scanning Rafe was a waste of time.

  “What’s your name?”

  That’s right. Thane hadn’t introduced them before Rafe started making demands. “Can’t you read my mind?”

  “People seldom refer to themselves by name in their own mind.” He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his gaze. “You might not be a reporter, but you didn’t come to enjoy the show. Are you a cop?”

  “Not anymore.” A long pause followed as they stared at each other. His dark eyes bore into hers, searching, assessing. Was he scanning her mind even now? She suspected his abilities greatly exceeded hers. Marissa had assumed she was clairvoyant. Rafe had known.

  “We have a problem.” He advanced with lazy menace. She didn’t even realize she was backing up until she felt the wall behind her. “I’m tired. I desperately need a shower, but I can’t trust you to be here when I get back.”

  “So tie me to a chair.” She licked her lips as heat pooled between her thighs. This was irrational! She couldn’t be attracted to this asshole. He’d been nothing but rude and antagonistic. Still, she sensed a connection beyond his arrogance, a longing she couldn’t quite define.

  He smiled and her heart fluttered madly. “I left my handcuffs at the hotel.”

  “Have Marissa baby-sit me until you’re through.”

  “Marissa and Thane are in his office, fucking their brains out.”

  “How charming.” She crossed her arms over her chest. He wasn’t touching her, just invading her personal space. “You don’t smell—too bad. Let’s finish our conversation then you can go take a shower.”

  “Let’s finish our conversation in the shower.”

  “Let’s not.” She pushed past him and made it almost to the door before his arm banded her waist.

  “You only got that far so I could look at yo
ur ass.”

  She gasped. What a Neanderthal! “If you don’t turn me loose, I’m going to scream the place down.”

  “Why do women do that? If you’re going to scream, scream. Why threaten to scream when you have no intention—”

  She cut off the rest of his rant with a shrill scream. He laughed. No one burst through the door to see what was wrong, so she didn’t bother yelling again. Either everyone’s ears were still ringing from the concert or vocal outbursts weren’t unusual at these parties.

  “You can undress or shower fully clothed. It makes no difference to me.” He paused for about three seconds before shifting his grasp to her arm and dragging her toward the dressing room.

  “What sort of bar has a shower in the basement?” Jessie tended to blurt out whatever she was thinking when she got nervous and her nerves were stretched beyond endurance right now. Did he really intend to strip down and drag her into a shower? She was off balance and wobbly. Maybe getting out of these ridiculous boots wasn’t such a bad idea.

  He grabbed several towels from a shelf by the door and half led, half dragged her toward the bank of shower stalls lining the far wall. “The Carousel was designed with performers in mind. That’s part of the reason so many big names are willing to play here.”

  His grip eased. Maybe she’d stumbled on to something. Distract him with incidentals then run like hell. “How long has Thane been your manager?”

  Positioning himself between her and the door, he pulled his damp shirt off over his head. “Thane manages Pyrite. I think everyone would agree I’m unmanageable.”

  Lean, tightly defined muscles shaped his chest and upper arms. He reached for the waistband of his black leather pants and she sank to the bench behind her. She had to remain focused. It didn’t matter that she was alone with the sexiest man she’d ever met or that he was rapidly undressing. Innocent women were dying. Her libido would just have to deal. She bent over and unlaced her boots. He circled around behind her.

  “Who sent you?” He unfastened the barrette, freeing her hair.

  She swallowed hard. “No one sent me. Dalton’s brother works for Burton and Associates and got us the tickets. Before I met you, I was actually a fan.”

  He chuckled softly and pushed his fingers into her hair. “You were looking at everything but the stage. What were you hoping to find? What do you think we’ve done?”

  Slipping her feet out of her boots, she pushed to her feet and turned around. His hands ended up on her shoulders. The bench pressed into her knees, a feeble excuse for a barrier. If he was the murderer, he already knew they were suspicious. If he wasn’t, perhaps he could help with the investigation.

  “Do you have enemies, Mr. Steele? Someone who hates you enough to frame you for murder?” Studying his expression, she waited for him to react. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by his striking features or the fact she stood in the arms of a world-famous rock star—a naked rock star.

  “Who was murdered?” His eyebrows drew together over his nose. “What are the circumstances surrounding the crime?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to share the details. Years of training had taught her to be suspicious of everyone. Rafe sensed her abilities before she’d given any indication she was clairvoyant and he’d commanded Dalton with some sort of hypnotic suggestion. There was a lot more to this man than met the eye.

  As if of its own volition, her gaze drifted along his body. Every inch of him was toned, sleekly muscled… His cock hung between his thighs, thick and long. And he wasn’t even hard yet! Her breath caught in her lungs and her pussy clenched. He radiated sexuality like rays off the sun. Was he a skilled lover, or was his sexy strut just part of the show?

  He cupped her chin, raising her face until her wayward gaze returned to his face. Desire smoldered in his eyes and the hint of a smile curved his lips. His hands encircled her upper arms, pulling her toward him with gradual pressure. Her torso angled and he kept right on pulling until she bent her legs and knelt on the bench.

  One of his hands held the back of her neck, the other brushing up and down her spine. “I thought a taste would be enough, but it only made me hungry for more.”

  Her breath escaped on a sigh as his mouth settled over hers. He couldn’t mean what his words implied. She’d imagined his kiss during the concert. She had to have imagined it. Warm and surprisingly soft, his mouth contoured to hers, rubbing until her lips parted. The faint echo of Hide and Seek sounded in her mind. She curved her fingers around his shoulders, trying to keep some distance between their bodies. It was impossible. He wouldn’t allow it. His hand slipped under her skirt and squeezed her ass. She could feel him hardening against her belly and her entire body tingled in response.

  Get out now or you’ll spend what’s left of the night with his cock buried inside you.

  His tongue stroked her bottom lip, teasing, coaxing, wonderful. She gave herself a firm mental shake and turned her face away. “I can’t do this.”

  “I promise we’ll talk after.”

  “After?” Her voice broke over the word.

  “After we shower.”

  She scrambled off the bench and scooped up her boots. “I’m not taking a shower with you or anything else you might be imagining.”

  “I’m not the only one imagining.”

  His smug smile dissolved the lingering fragments of attraction. What a cocky prick! She’d had enough of his arrogance. Whatever information he might provide wasn’t worth putting up with his attitude.

  “Good night, Mr. Steele.”

  He took a step as if to stop her then shook his head and waved her away. “Go on. We’ll finish this later.”

  * * * * *

  Showered and adorned in clean clothes, Rafe left the dressing room a short time later. His mystery guest was nowhere in sight, but Thane and Marissa had returned from their private party in Thane’s office.

  “Who is she?” Rafe asked without preamble.

  “Her name is Jessica Curtis,” Thane told him. “That’s about all I know.”

  “Where did she go when she left here?”

  “What’s your interest in this human?” Marissa asked, suspicion narrowing her crystal blue eyes.

  “We didn’t finish our conversation.” He pictured her flushed face and lush red lips. Oh yes, their conversation had barely begun. “She claims a murder investigation led her to Pyrite. Have either of you heard anything about a murder?”

  Marissa shook her head. “What exactly does she suspect?”

  “I’m not sure. She wasn’t real comfortable with our conversation.”

  “You had her trapped in the dressing room. I can’t imagine why she’d be uncomfortable.”

  He ignored the knowing look that passed between his friends. “I need to find her.”

  “Your driver offered to take her home, but she insisted on calling a cab,” Thane said.

  “I’ll see what I can find out.” He kissed Marissa on the cheek and headed for the stairs. Fans stopped him several times before he reached the landing. Offering them as much attention as his distracted mind allowed, he worked his way across the room.

  “Who was the blonde and why did you encourage her to scan us?” Phillip followed him up the stairs.

  “You were never in any danger. She doesn’t have the faintest idea how to use her gift. Most of her power is latent.”

  “And the man?” They ducked down a narrow hallway and out the back door. Invitations were necessary to access the Green Room party, but the Carousel was still teeming with people.

  “He was a pawn. I seriously doubt he knew Natalie had linked with his mind.”

  “They had to have made contact at some point. Not even Natalie can form a mental link with a human without a blood bond.” Philip paused, his dark brows arched. “He was human, wasn’t he?”

  “As far as I could tell.” A siren drew his attention toward the mouth of the alley. Strobes flashed through the night, making the sky pulse with color. “What�
�s going on out front?”

  Phillip shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

  They released their corporeal bodies and drifted up into the night sky. Two blocks down, on the other side of the street, several squad cars had congregated. Rafe projected his essence toward the disturbance, filtering out emotions and isolating voices.

  “We’re not ready to make a statement.” Rafe located the source of the irritated voice in a hall on the second story of the seedy hotel. “Tell the reporters to have a seat in the lounge. I won’t be rushed!” A burly man in a rumpled suit dispatched two uniformed officers with his decision.

  The suit walked back into one of the hotel rooms. Rafe followed him. Jessica and her male companion stood on the far side of the bed. What are they doing here? Rafe sent the thought to Phillip. He couldn’t see the other vampire, but he could sense his being nearby.

  Maybe they know the two on the bed.

  Rafe focused on the apparent cause of the disturbance. A young couple lay on the bed, naked and embracing. Blood coated their arms and smeared the woman’s abdomen.

  “It’s not suicide,” Jessica insisted.

  “There’s a signed suicide pact and everything.” The suit motioned toward the bed. “If Dalton hadn’t called me and warned me this was likely to happen—”

  “You wouldn’t have given it a second thought?” she finished impatiently.

  “Jessie’s right. There has been an apparent suicide found in every city Pyrite has played.”

  The suit snorted and scrubbed his stubbly jaw with his fingertips. “Please tell me this isn’t a Don’t Fear the Reaper sort of thing.”

  “They aren’t being driven to suicide. They’re being murdered.” She pushed past Dalton and approached the bed. “Where’s the razor blade or knife? How did they slit their wrists?”

  The suit studied the entwined bodies with new interest. “Damn good point.” He poked around with his glove-covered hands and then paused and looked at Jessie. “You know, this vic looks an awful lot like you.”

 

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