Pallas: Vampire Romance (Vanguard Elite Book 5)

by Annie Nicholas

  That was it. She was fantasizing about a vampire old enough to remember the Black Plague fondly. Time for sleep.

  The search was still going strong but Homeland had taken over the operation. She gladly wiped her hands clean of it. Part of her hoped Pallas was halfway to Europe.

  She exited her office to find agent Thomas on a laptop, headset on as he directed the search teams. Their glares met but no words were exchanged. As she passed the paper shredder, she tossed Joe’s resignation into its jaws. He had woken up in his car with a bite mark, convinced Pallas wanted him dead. They would discuss what happened once this fiasco was finished, but in the meantime, she needed her second in command with his head in the game. If the vampire truly was pissed about almost being deep fried in sunlight, Joe would never have woken up. Truth be told, it gave her a little satisfaction that Pallas had taken a bite out of the deputy and brought him down a notch. It might save Joe’s life in the future.

  Outside the front door, the sharks circled. Reporters from networks waited to pounce. She took a deep breath and pushed forward.

  “No comment.” She blocked the microphones with her hand but they pressed them closer as the cameras focused on her face. “No comment,” she repeated. Her car seemed a football field away when in reality it was the first one in the lot. Right next to the reserved for sheriff sign.

  She climbed inside and maneuvered her cruiser out of the crowded lot. She noted that some of those sharks were concerned townspeople. At the road, she paused. They deserved answers, but from a sheriff who had a few hours of sleep first. She doubted she could string words into a comprehensible sentence.

  Home was on the other side of town. She wanted space from work. Her own slice of solitude for the rare day off. She drove along her inclined driveway, urging her vehicle not to get stuck in the snow. She hadn’t the time to plow her driveway yet. “Come on, baby. You can do it.” Halfway up, the car slid to the side instead of going forward, wheels spinning.

  She put it in park. Good enough. She rested her chin on the steering wheel and stared at her front door one hundred yards away. If she fell asleep in the car, she would freeze to death. With a sigh, she exited the vehicle and trudged to her house.

  Had she left a light on? Possibly, she’d been in a hurry when she left. Wait—not yesterday but the day before. Oh, she was tired. She just didn’t give a shit. She would skip the shower and just head straight to bed, uniform and all.

  She unlocked the front door, tossed off her jacket, and dragged her feet toward her bedroom.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move in her living room. Heart jackrabbiting in her chest, she pulled out her gun before her mind registered what was happening as adrenaline flooded her bloodstream. “Hold it right there. Don’t move.”

  From the shadows a figure approached with his hands raised. “I surrender.”

  A muscle ticked in her jaw and her head threatened to explode. “Pallas!”

  Chapter Seven

  The last place anyone would look for Pallas was Sheriff Lee’s home. A quaint cabin in the woods outside of town, opposite his property.

  Spacious rooms with minimal furniture. Neat, clean lines in her choices of decor. It smelled of her. He could picture the Sheriff on the deck, reading in her Adirondack chair and sipping a beer.

  Not at this precise minute. She held a gun pointed at his head. She must have studied fighting vampires since their first altercation. A headshot would incapacitate him longer than the chest wound.

  “You!” Her fury was a violent heat. Trigger finger tightening. “What are you doing in my house?”

  “I needed a place to hide.” He shrugged. “And I—”

  She holstered her gun.

  Pallas relaxed his stance, lowering his arms. “And I—”

  She twisted her upper body with incredible speed, punching him solidly in the jaw.

  His head flung back and he bit his tongue. “Ow.”

  “Fuck.” She clasped her hand to her chest. “Are you made of stone?”

  He caught her by the injured wrist. “Let me see.” He examined her hand though she resisted. “It’s not broken, luckily. That wasn’t smart. I’m immortal.” He picked her up like a child and carried her to the kitchen.

  “Put me down!” She kicked her legs.

  He set her on the granite counter. “I’m made of stuff stronger than stone.” Inside her freezer, he found an ice pack and cradled her injured hand around it. “The punch was angled badly.”

  “I know.” She winced. “You’re taller than my regular sparring partners and I’m tired.” Dark circles surrounded her weary eyes.

  “You were looking for me all night.” He frowned, feeling bad about the escape. He’d promised to follow her lead in this process. “I apologize for breaking your cell wall. I’ll pay for the damages once I clear my name.”

  She deflated right before his eyes. “Fine.” Her face twisted as if she fought with herself. “I’m sorry Joe tried to fry you with sunlight.”

  “Joe.” He growled.

  “You’re not going to kill him are you?” She sat up straighter, feet dangling over her linoleum floor. Strands of hair had escaped her tight bun, which sagged to the right.

  Obviously, nobody believed he could restrain his killing urges. After centuries of experience, he had control, just no reason to implement it until now. Not to mention, the last time he’d walked the earth, people had been more bloodthirsty. “No.”

  A blush crept over her cheeks. “Have you been here all night?”

  “No, I tried to find my pack.” He tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears. “Dodged state troopers most of the night, then realized I would only bring more danger to my wolves.”

  “So you came here?”

  Shame was a stranger to him but it slithered in his gut. “I need your help.”

  She rubbed her temples. “I thought you’d be in Canada by now.” She sounded wistful.

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  “Why did you stay?” She lowered her hands and tilted her head.

  He busied himself with her ice pack by wrapping a dish towel around her injured hand to protect her skin from the cold. “We should elevate this to prevent swelling.”

  “Pallas?” She ducked her head so he couldn’t avoid her gaze. He ran his fingertips over her smooth cheeks and she didn’t retreat. So pink and warm. He’d always been attracted to warrior women. Sheriff Lee…

  “Will you ever tell me your first name?”

  She blinked and smiled. It was shy and endearing. “Are you ever going to answer my question?”

  In answer, he stepped closer, forcing her thighs apart and brushing his lips over hers. He was never one to mince words and he tired of playing games with her. Either she liked him or not, but he would have his kiss.

  Her mouth parted as she pulled away. She rested her hand on his chest. “Me?”

  He jerked his chin down a brief nod unable to trust his next words. He had expected a second punch to his face. Not the wonder in her voice. He could use the pack, his home and lands as an excuse, but deep down inside he knew the truth. He had lived without shifters or a roof and survived, but without her, he wasn’t so sure he could. He wasn’t suave or charming and his next words mattered.

  “Leona,” she whispered into the pregnant silence.

  “Leona Lee, pleased to meet you.” He circled her waist with his hands and bent for a second kiss.

  She met him halfway, hands caressing his shoulders, mouth crushed to his.

  Fair enough. He slipped his tongue against hers and devoured her moans as their kiss grew deeper. He loved how her hand caressed the back of his neck, the accidental scrape of their teeth as they grew too enthusiastic. He needed this—he needed her.

  He released the pins to her bun and let her glorious long hair flow down her back. It felt like silk between his fingers. Wrapping the strands around his hand, he pinned her against him. Those curves, hidden in that unifo
rm, softly molded to him. It was not enough to claim her mouth. He wanted skin. To lick every inch of her body. To bite and taste her. He moaned, grinding his thickening cock against the apex of her thighs.

  They would need her bed, the handcuffs, her belt, and that ice pack for afterwards. He wanted to take things slow with Leona. A hard fuck against the kitchen counter could wait for another night. The first time shouldn’t be rushed. He wanted everything to be perfect.

  This time when he moaned, it wasn’t from lust. He pulled away, hard with desire so strong it pulsed through his body. Now was not the time. They were racing against a clock with Homeland closing in.

  She clung to his shoulders, leaning in for more, lips swollen and parted.

  The noises escaping his throat held an edge of the monster inside him. Her wanting more was the hardest thing he had ever refused. He leaned his forehead against hers, gripping the edge of the granite counter until it creaked. “No,” he whispered.

  “Yes.” She wrapped her strong legs around his hips.

  He closed his eyes. Willpower fading fast. “I need to fix things first.” He gasped for air. Oh fuck, if she undid one single button of that uniform, he was done for.

  Her clutching fists relaxed. She stroked her hand over his chest, down his abs and gave a long disappointed sigh. “You’re right.” She slapped his chest lightly. “Fuck, I hate it when you’re right.”

  “For once we agree.”

  She laughed and pushed him away. “First things first—how did you know where I live?”

  He adjusted the tight crotch of his pants to relieve some pressure on his erection, tempted to shove the ice pack inside his waistband. “I followed you home one night.”

  “Any specific reason?”

  “Know thy enemy. First rule of war.”

  “You always kiss your enemies?” She gave him a crooked smile as she leaned back on her hands. Confidence and intelligence were the most alluring things a woman could wear. Leona flaunted it with style.

  He shrugged. “I don’t think of us as enemies anymore.” Not after that kiss. He had expected her to punch him again when he’d first brushed his lips over hers. For once, he had something to truly fight for. His own future with her and his pack in this little town in the mountains. His own slice of heaven. No rogue vampire would take that from him. “You believe I’m innocent?”

  “I know you are, or you would already be in handcuffs on your way back to jail.” She slipped off the counter, landing gracefully on her feet. She set the icepack aside and flexed her swollen hand. “I’ll have to aim for something softer next time. The medical examiner discovered the bite was artificially made.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Not a real bite? Does that clear me with your laws?”

  Her tired eyes grew dark and the lines around her mouth deepened. “With me, it clears your guilt, but Homeland has it bad for you. Gillipsie and Thomas want you. We need more than just the bite to get them off your back.”

  “Of course, it can’t be enough. Why would my life get easier now?” The body was dumped on his land with a vampire bite, which meant this was done purposely to make him appear guilty.

  “They might find a way to explain the abnormalities in the bite mark. We need more to secure your innocence so no doubts are left in anyone’s minds.”

  He crossed his arms. She was wise in the ways of human laws but naïve at the depravity of human nature. What choice did he have but to listen at this point? Did he trust this sheriff? Oddly, he did. She’d had plenty of opportunity to betray him and his pack since their arrival in her territory. She had been nothing but fair.

  “If a vampire didn’t kill Bob, then who did?”

  “Exactly. That’s what I’m talking about. We need to figure out who else had a motive to kill Bob and the opportunity.” She yawned so wide her jaw cracked.

  Exhaustion fogged her bright aura. “You need some sleep first.” The natural defenses that protected her sharp mind were growing thin. He could break through the barriers, get inside her head, but that was not what he wanted from Leona. Love needed to be real, needed to come from her without any push on his part.

  “Yes, I really do, but after I get a few hours rest we should check the crime scene again. Now that we know it’s not a vampire, maybe we’ll see something fresh.”

  “You have a dark place, secure from daylight, for me to rest that’s not a closet?” He hated confined spaces. Some of his brethren used boxes or holes in the dirt to hide from the sun. He had tried but his wild blood calls for open spaces.

  “Sure. The basement should be safe. The windows are narrow and easy to cover.” She grinned. “There’s even a TV.” She guided him down below her cabin.

  The room was open with a large couch. A big screen television hung on the wall. She gave him instructions on how to use the remotes.

  “Let me shower then I’ll get some blankets.” She returned to the main floor, leaving him alone with his dismal thoughts.

  Chapter Eight

  What the fuck was she doing?

  Leona met her own incredulous stare in the bathroom mirror as it fogged with steam. Harboring a fugitive vampire in her basement, that’s what she was doing. A murderer. Not Bob’s murderer, but he must’ve killed somebody. Pallas didn’t have a dangerous grace because he’d been a ballerina for centuries. He was a vampire. They had killed their food in the old days.

  She shook her head. Should she be judging someone on their past when they had lived for so long and times had changed? Evidence showed the vampire bite was faked. Pallas was innocent. He’d had plenty of opportunity to exact revenge on the hunters who had tried to burn down his home and killed one of his wolves. At a gut level, she trusted him with her life, but as long as anyone doubted his innocence, he would be persecuted by the townspeople. His home.

  Leaning her hands on the side of the sink, she hung her head, stretching the tight knots in her neck. She hated this. She hated the stress yet it had managed to follow her into the Adirondacks.

  She undressed and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water beat against her tired body. Her chest ached. Not from work but from feeling so hollow for so long until Pallas kissed her. Talk about panty melting. If she wasn’t so exhausted, he would be in serious trouble. She hadn’t wanted to be with someone this bad since college.

  He wasn’t really a man though. That was the kicker. A vampire? She had never understood the attraction. Some people flocked to vampire clubs to be bitten and more…

  She touched her lips. She could blame the kiss on her exhaustion, but she’d be lying to herself. After three ex-husbands, she learned to listen to her instincts. That little voice in the back of her head that whispered he’s cheating on you or he’s using you.

  When she was around Pallas, that voice said look at how he protects the weak and damn, that ass. He didn’t mince words. He spoke his mind. She’d known for a while that he’d been attracted to her. She just never thought he’d actually act on it. She gently knocked her head against the shower wall.

  If she was smart, she would call Homeland right now. Turn Pallas in. She would be the hero of the town. Of the nation.

  And never be able to look at herself in the mirror again.

  She’d be serving a great injustice. Pallas hadn’t wronged anyone in this town. Not a single vampire bite on anyone. She’d checked—hospital records, gossip, outright asking. He hadn’t even propositioned or signed a contract with any townspeople. She always wondered how he fed until he’d shown her his bagged blood collection.

  Could he feed off his werewolves? So many questions and none of them pertained to the case. Her mind was stuck on a hamster wheel and the only way off was sleep.

  She finished her shower, bundled herself into some flannel pajamas and gathered her spare blankets.

  Pallas was still where she’d left him in the basement, kneeling before the television trying to figure out the remotes even after her instructions. “Why do you have three?” He rose, hold
ing them out to her. “What is the point of all these buttons if none of them work?”

  “Don’t you own a television?” She worked her magic and turned on the news. Not pointing out that one of the remotes he’d been trying to use was her portable phone.

  “No.” He sat on the couch, arms spread over the top, ankle resting on his knee. “I tried to keep distraction to a minimum at the manor—that includes electricity.”

  She tried to picture a house full of young wolf shifters with no power and shuddered. “I would think you would need something to keep a pack occupied.”

  He snorted. “Don’t worry. They’re very busy. Everyone falls to bed exhausted in the morning.” His gaze traveled over her attire. “This is a new look.”

  She tossed her wet hair over her shoulder and sat next to him on the couch with a blanket. “You can’t think I sleep in my uniform.” That was disturbing. There was a woman under the badge and she’d been ignoring her far too long. If Pallas couldn’t even fantasize about her naked, obviously she’d read too much into that kiss. She simply looked at him, at the exquisite balance of beauty and cruelty.

  He plucked the collar of her jammies. Maybe she should have gone with something silkier, but she really needed sleep.

  Pallas rubbed the material between his fingers, his hard expression softening. “I like this.” He ran his finger through her loose hair. “This, too.”

  Heat burned her cheeks. So maybe he saw the woman behind the flannel after all. God, talk about terrible timing. She couldn’t get involved with him while he was wanted for murder. Any evidence she discovered would be scrutinized if it was discovered they had a relationship, let alone were lovers. She pulled the blanket over her shoulders. “Let me have a few hours of sleep then we can discuss strategies when my brain is more rested.”

  “You’re sleeping down here with me?” His spine straightened and he leaned away.

  “Is that dangerous?” She hadn’t considered the possible consequences of sleeping in the same room with a vampire. She just didn’t feel like being alone. “I mean, do you need to—uh—to drink?” Yep, that was her, Miss Smooth as ex-lax. She thought better on her feet when she was furious or fighting.