He thought she was a witch? Maybe that would be a little easier for him to believe, he already seemed to. No, she couldn't lie to him. If he ever did find out what she really was, he'd hate her. Here goes everything. She glanced at the window; the sun had set, so she was safe, sort of. She made herself visible before his eyes.
His eyes grew wide as he stared at the most beautiful woman he'd ever gotten the privilege to look at. Her body was toned as if Michelangelo himself had sculpted her. She had long dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Those eyes had captivated him from the first moment he'd seen her in his dream. She was perfect in every way that he could see. The hand holding the gun lowered to his side. He would have dropped it to the floor if it wasn't already a habit to hold it in his hand. "God, you're beautiful."
She didn't smile. "It isn't your laws that I am referring to. I'm talking about the laws of my people. Humans aren't supposed to know about us. They'll kill me, and you, if they find out that you know about us."
He was a little panicked by her words. He wouldn't let anything hurt her. "No one is going to kill you. I can protect you."
She laughed out loud. He thought he could protect her. She was flattered that he would try, but some of the Elders were so powerful that all they had to do was look at a mortal to make them fall over dead. She lost her smile. She couldn't let them hurt him. "I was wrong to come here," she said as she stood from the couch and started for the door. He stood and grabbed her arm. She immediately grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him a foot off the floor. He gasped in shock as she looked up at him. "Do you still think you can protect me? There are people like me that are much stronger than I am. I'm not a witch, and neither is the killer. Why do you think you are being framed?" She let him go and he fell into the recliner.
He stared up at her, disorientated, then finally found his voice. "When I left here last night, I went to a gym to blow off some steam. The punching bag wasn't doing it for me, and there were four other guys there lifting weights. I talked the biggest guy into getting in the ring with me, but boxing was my choice of sport in high school and he wasn't a match for me. I knocked him out with three or four hits. He was unconscious, but really he was fine when I left. I came straight back here and went to bed. When I went into work this morning, my Captain informed me that he was one of the bloodless victims, and the guys that had been with him had witnessed his murder. They said the guy was a cop and described me. If you know something about all of this, I need to know. I haven't killed anyone." He took a few deep breaths, then looked back at her. "How are you so strong?" he asked, like he still couldn't believe it.
She walked back to the couch and sat down. She put her head between her knees, and took in several deep breaths. She looked up at him. "If I told you that my people would kill you if you knew anything about this…would you still want to know? Because believe me, Mitch, they can…and they will."
He huffed. "I'd rather die trying to find the true killer, than spend the rest of my life in prison, or die for a crime I didn't commit."
She didn't have the skill to tell if he was lying, but she could clearly see by the look on his face that he wasn't. She was risking both their lives by doing this, but the Rogue wasn't giving her a choice. She couldn't let Mitch take the fall for this. She took a deep breath and let it out. Here goes. "What's the most radical thing that you have ever heard in your life?"
He didn't wait a heartbeat before responding. "The last five minutes pretty much sums it up."
She rolled her eyes. Great. He was going to hate her after he found out what she really was. She took a deep breath, and on the exhale said, "I'm a vampire."
He got to his feet quickly without speaking a word, and walked down the hall. He came back with a lost look on his face, like he didn't quite comprehend what she told him. He paced for a minute in the small living room, and then looked at her for a moment. He began pacing again. She was going to let this huge amount of information soak in before she told him anymore. Good, he thought, he didn't think he could hear anymore just yet.
A good five minutes of pacing later, Mitch came back to the recliner and sat down. His eyes were unseeing. He couldn't focus, and it was a little hard for him to get oxygen into his lungs. He had to get control of himself. The beautiful female specimen on the couch just informed him that she was a vampire. A VAMPIRE! Vampires didn't exist. Of course, he'd thought witches didn't exist a little while ago, and he was all for saying she was one. He shook his head and looked at her again. She was waiting patiently for him to take all of this in. Okay…okay, he could deal with this. He told her that he wanted to know, and she had only done what he'd asked of her. He shook his head again. A vampire.
"All right." That was all he could think to say.
All right? She shook her head, thinking that maybe he was in denial. Well, if not, he'd certainly taken it better than she thought he would. "I don't know who the killer is, but I have certain skills that are important to the tasks I do. I can usually find the Rogue vampires a lot sooner, but this one is different. His brain is fried with insanity, and all I can get from him are the images of the people after he chooses them as victims. He has been waiting forty-eight hours from the time he chooses them, until he goes through with it. I've been entering your dreams to put those images in your head for the last four weeks, hoping you would catch on and locate them before he killed them," she sighed. "But you didn't."
"I thought I was only having nightmares, or that I was going crazy. It wasn't up until yesterday that I thought I might be psychic. Why didn't you tell me in my dreams?"
She shook her head. "I couldn't talk to you. You aren't supposed to know about us." She pleaded for him to understand how much of a risk she was taking. "I never meant for you to be caught up in all of this, Mitch."
Had her intentions been to never talk to him, or touch him, if she had found her killer before he found out about her? He laughed lightly to himself. Was he still trying to convince himself that she liked him? Women as beautiful as her didn't seduce guys like him. How many times had he told himself that? He was still hanging on to a small thread of hope. She had told him that she was a vampire, and yet here he stood, wanting her more than anything in the world. His life was falling apart, and he couldn't think of anything more wonderful than feeling her naked skin on his.
He rubbed at the aching pain behind his temples with his fingers and simply felt drained. "And now that I am?"
She looked at him with confusion written all over her face. "What do you mean? We are going to track the Rogue and his victims together, I'll catch him and then you can have your life back. And we are going to try and do it without my family knowing that you know about me." She was pointing at her chest, and she was dead serious.
She was very cute when she was serious, he thought.
He shook his head again. "What I mean is," he took a deep breath and looked at her. "Now that I know about you, and when we find the killer and everything is over and done with, are you going to vanish from my life?"
Her mouth had been open with her sober look, but when he finished talking she closed it with a snap. He couldn't be thinking that they could be friends. He was a mortal, and she never would be again. The visions in his dreams let her know that he thought she was repulsive. But looking at him now, he didn't have that look on his face, even after being told what she was. He was looking at her with longing in his eyes. Did he want her still? No he couldn't possibly. "I have no other choice."
He stood and paced some more. He was going to wear a hole in the hardwood floor of his apartment and land on the person under him if he didn't stop. "How old are you?"
"Why do you need to know? It doesn't pertain to the case, so I think the less you know about me, the easier they will be on you when they find out." He just looked at her without answering. Again she asked him. "Why do you need to know how old I am?"
"What's your name?" he said instead.
She looked away from him. "I don't think you n
eed to know that either."
"Yes, I do!" he shouted. It got her attention enough to look back at him.
"Why? It can't possibly help you," she said, meeting his stare.
He clenched his jaw together and spoke through his teeth. "Because I want to know the name of the woman that I am in love with, and I want to know that she isn't a minor before I make love to her."
Ciera gasped and got to her feet. "No! You can't possibly love me. I have already gone too far. If we fall in love with humans…it's certain death for us. You have to understand. We can't be together."
Tears were flowing out of her eyes and he couldn't understand why. He was surprised at how easy it was to say that. Of course, he had never been in love before, and he'd never been one of those guys who said it just to get a girl in the sack. One thing he did know was that, besides the case, she was all he could think about for the last month. It had to be love. He'd never felt anything so strong before in his life. The only other woman he'd ever said those three words to was his mother. And why would him loving her cause her trouble? Unless…unless she was in love with him, too. He took a step forward. She stared at his foot as though it were a rabid dog about to bite her.
He was only about five feet from her. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift move. She looked terrified and he wanted her to feel safe. He wanted to hold her body next to his. He didn't care about his job. They could make a run for it. Leave the scary vampires that would try to kill them, and the cops that would throw him in prison, behind. He took another step and pulled his white t-shirt over his head. She began shaking her head slowly. He could tell she wanted to tell him to stop, but it was the need in her that wouldn't let her say anything.
He could see it in her eyes; she wanted him too. He took another step, and he was standing only a breath away from her. She was trembling and her bottom lip was quivering. He wanted to still it with his own lips.
He reached for her hand. She jumped a little when their skin touched, but didn't move otherwise. She had even stopped breathing, and he hoped it was natural for her kind, or else she would be turning blue soon from lack of oxygen. He brought her hand up and placed it on his chest, making her palm flatten out on his pec. She sighed so heavily that it could have passed for a moan of pleasure. He slowly took her other hand and placed it beside the first.
She closed her eyes. "I've wanted to touch you like this from the first moment I saw you."
"How old are you?" he demanded in a whisper.
She kept her eyes closed as she spoke. The scent of him was almost intoxicating to her. "Three hundred and twenty-seven years old."
He tensed and she opened her eyes to look at him. He was smiling. "What?" she said.
"And here I was worrying that you were a minor. How old were you when you were made a ... a ..."
"Vampire? Twenty-five."
He smiled again. "And your name?"
She closed her eyes again. She couldn't believe she was being this open with a mortal. The Elders would have her head on a chopping block. "Ciera."
He bent to her ear and spoke in a whisper. "Thank you." He captured her earlobe with his lips and sucked gently. A soft cry escaped her throat. He pulled back and looked at her face. Her eyes were still closed. "If you wish for me to stop, you need only to say so Ci-er-a." He dragged her name out on a seductive whisper.
The sound of her name coming from his lips was like heaven to her ears. She knew that she needed to tell him to stop, but she also knew that she wasn't going to. Now that they had touched each other, she wouldn't ever be able to touch him enough. It was one of her greatest fears come true, but oh, how being bad could feel so good.
"Open your eyes and look at me, Ciera," he said and she obeyed. "Do you want me to stop?"
He was giving her an out. He didn't know that she had never been touched by a man, but he did know that she was afraid, and he was making sure that she didn't have any doubts. She couldn't think of any at the moment as she stared into those dark-brown eyes. She shook her head slowly. "Please don't."
He smiled. "I was hoping you would say that."
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Chapter 11
Ciera's whole body was visibly shaking and she couldn't make it stop. She had never lost control of herself like this. She was afraid and excited all at the same time. The need to touch every inch of his perfect body was almost more than she could stand.
She opened her eyes. He was looking at her like he had in his dreams before she covered herself with blood. That look only a person gives to their lover before taking them, body and soul, over to a new realm. He did want her still, and oh how she wanted him. Her hands were still in the same area he had placed them, but she noticed her fingers were moving of their own free will. There was very little hair there, but what he did have, she found that she loved the feel of the soft locks as her fingers glided over his firm pectorals.
He had his head tilted back, moaning softly as if what she was doing to him was the greatest feeling he had ever known. But it couldn't be. She was inexperienced, but it felt natural to touch him as if she'd done it a thousand times, and already knew what would make him happy.
She wanted to touch more of him, so she moved her hands up to his broad shoulders, then ran them slowly down his arms. This was what she had been waiting for. She had never wanted intimacy, and now she knew why. She'd been waiting for him.
Hands shaking, she took his hands in hers and placed them on her waist. He looked down at her with such passion in his eyes. He quickly moved his hands up to frame her face, and only a heartbeat passed before his lips met hers.
There were bombs going off in her body, she was sure of it. How could a kiss affect her this much? He took it slow, relishing every last bit of her mouth. She parted her lips willingly and his tongue slid in to massage her own. Oh, the bliss of this. She was surprised people didn't go around kissing all the time, forever joined at the mouth. Nothing else in the world could possibly matter.
She was suddenly brought out of her hazy state of mind. She'd heard a sound outside his window. They were three stories up and there was no way for a mortal to climb the brick. There was only one thing it could be. She stiffened with her mouth still on his. He sensed her discomfort and froze. Then a louder, more disturbing sound filled her keen ears. It was the sound of pain and anguish. One word screamed at the top of the male's lungs. "NO!"
In one swift motion, she pulled Mitch behind her, and was ready to strike at anything that came through the window to harm him. Nothing came.
Mitch was frozen behind Ciera. His first instinct was to grab his Beretta off the recliner seat and start shooting at the window, blindly, but Ciera had a death grip on his arm. "What…" he began, but her hand went straight to his mouth and covered it.
"Don't move," she whispered, then ran to the window with incredible speed.
She raised the glass frame and scanned the brick surrounding it. She looked down at the street. There was a lone figure standing just outside of the street light's glare. No mortal would be able to see him, but she could. He was staring with disgust in his immortal eyes at her. She had done the unthinkable and he had been here to witness it. She covered her mouth with her hand as she gasped.
What had she done? She turned back to Mitch, who had obeyed her and not moved an inch. He had thought he had been in trouble before, that was nothing compared to the shit-storm they were both facing now. He had no clue. There was no way that he could perceive the trouble they were both in.
She knew exactly what Daneian would do. He wouldn't run to their Parents or the Elders and tattle on her. He would expose her deepest, darkest secret by phone. He wouldn't let her out of his sight until she was destroyed, and from the look in his eyes, he would be the one to do it. But not before he ripped Mitch to pieces and made her watch.
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Chapter 12
"What was that?" Mitch whispered as he assessed the b
lank expression on Ciera's face. He couldn't tell if she was nervous, scared or angry. He knew one thing for sure, she wasn't happy. Had she seen something out his window? They were three stories up, how could there be anything looking in his window?
Then she was suddenly in motion. "We have to go…right now! Grab your shirt and a jacket, nothing else. We have to take your bike; the car won't be fast enough."
He grabbed his shirt off the floor, without another word, and began to put it on. Evidently he wasn't doing it fast enough, because she took it out of his hands and threw it over his head faster than he would have thought possible. He stuck his arms through the arm holes and she tossed him his leather jacket.
"He's going to kill us," she said as she took his bike key off its hook and opened the door to his apartment.
"Wait…who's going to kill us?" he asked nervously, trying to keep up with her quick pace and words.
She turned her head in his direction as they headed out his door. "I don't have time to explain anything right now. If we get to a safe place, I'll try to explain everything." God, how could she explain her whole immortal existence to a mortal? She shrugged and looked away. "If we don't…I want you to know that I don't regret anything." Her eyes filled with tears, but he couldn't see her face. She let a few fall then turned and grabbed him up in her arms like she would a small child. He wasn't moving fast enough, and it was only a matter of seconds before Dane realized what she was doing. He wouldn't let them get far. She knew how fast he was. He would take shortcuts that the bike couldn't. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with them, if they even made it to the bike. She was glad that Mitch owned a fast one.
He only gasped and shut his eyes tight as she grabbed him up and headed for the stairs. This had to look funny, he thought. She couldn't possibly weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds.
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