“Oh.” She flushed. “I thought…”
The sentence hung unfinished while Zed carried her into his home.
Chapter 3
Zed knew what Jo had thought. That he would let her go. That, after having seen her rush to defend him, that he could crawl back into his self-pity to wallow. Meredith’s death was a burden he would carry on his heart, on his honor, for the rest of his life. He had seen the signs she wasn’t receptive to his truth, and he had ignored them. The other pack members had worried too, Dell in particular, but he had ignored them, so damn sure she would love him even if he was a monster.
“I’m tired of living a half-life,” he admitted. “I’m tired of putting that look in Dell’s eyes.” He grabbed Jo’s hand. “No one deserves to bear the burden of being someone else’s reason for living. I won’t do that to you. You deserve better. You need a strong mate who can stand by your side as an equal.”
“Zed…”
“I can’t stay away from you. Even when I thought you were human, even when I was terrified I might break you, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stop. I had to be near you. I blamed it on the wolf, but it’s me too. I’m the one who spoke to you that first day, and I’m the one who made you smile.” He glanced around. “I’m gamma of this pack, and that means I live for each of the wolves out there. I have a purpose again.” He pleaded with his gaze. “I’m asking you for time to heal myself. Time to make myself worthy of you.”
“You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispered.
How many times had he told Dell the same thing? Too many to count.
“I like you, Jo,” he breathed, leaning in close. “More than like.”
“I like you too.” She linked her arms behind his neck. “Maybe more than like.”
“Are you sure you want to give us a shot?” He studied her. “I don’t have much to offer you, but I can keep your car running.”
“And keep my family safe.” She smiled. “Keep me safe.”
“What will we do about your pride?” His fingers curved into her flesh as though someone might run through the door and snatch her out of his arms. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Aunt Li could petition to start her own pride. All it requires is four other members. It’s not unusual for prides to splinter, and she’s got enough seniority to make it work. We could invite my parents and siblings to join us. We’d still be held to some of the old laws, but she could make her own rules for how we live here. We could sign a formal alliance with your pack.”
“I still don’t like the idea of you fighting the fae,” he grumbled. “I would trust any member of Lorimar at my back, but hunting has never felt as good as it did tonight with you by my side.”
“I think I’m ready for that shower.”
He set her on her feet, and showed her into the compact bathroom. There was barely room for him to turn around without banging his elbows, but she would fit just fine, the same as she fit every other facet of his life.
Her lips pursed in consideration. “RVs like this one use water tanks, right?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He gathered her a towel and found one of his T-shirts and a new pair of boxers for her to wear. “Smaller units like these are perfect for the bachelors in the pack.”
“Wait.” Joann caught him by the elbow as he turned to leave. “You’re covered in blood too. Maybe we ought to shower together to conserve water.”
“Are you sure—?”
Zed’s brain switched off the second her lips met his, and when his hand sank into her hair, pulling her against him, her mouth opening like a gift, he was certain this was the best Christmas present he had ever received.
Out for Blood
Chapter 1
The white sand beaches and gentle surf hadn’t done much for our corpse. It was bloated, baked and pungent. I almost lost my dinner, which would be a damn shame considering how hard it was to come by bagged blood in the Caribbean. Not that I would mind sampling the local flavor—I was half vampire after all, a dhampir if you want to get technical—but considering the case… Yeah. Nibbles would have to wait.
“Marshal Ayer. Eileen Ayer?” A tall man dressed to the nines in a navy suit crossed the dunes to reach me. A grin tugged at the edge of my lips when I noticed he wore matching Converse sneakers to make trekking across the sand easier. Black hair curled around his ears, his eyes a shade lighter than his ensemble. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook. “Your service record speaks for itself.”
It sure did. Mostly it blabbed out how I had been the victim of a serial killer and survived. But that wasn’t the cause of the stigma that had landed me on a shore thousands of miles from home. No. That was thanks to my short stint as a patient in Edelweiss Mental Institution. I had recovered. For the most part. Sadly, my coworkers acted like crazy was catching, and my supervisor had banished me to paradise as a means of acknowledging my service record while also not having to deal with a still slightly broken marshal.
“And you are?” I studied him, awarding bonus points for the depth of his dimples.
“Oh.” He chuckled in a self-deprecating way that would have put me at ease had I met him six months earlier. “Sorry. Taye Jones. Marshal Jones. On loan from the Northwestern Conclave. Oregon. I’m from Oregon.”
Flustered was a good look on him, embarrassment rushing blood into his cheeks.
“Well, Marshal Jones…” I wiggled my fingers in his grip until he took the hint and released me, “…it’s nice to meet you.”
“I did my dissertation on you while I was in the academy,” he blurted.
The pleasant warmth in my middle, a tingle not unlike the slow burn of blood hunger, evaporated. The academy? He was that fresh? That made him a baby. Ugh. Damn him and his dimples for distracting me from the shininess of the badge he wore like a shield on his lean hip. “Marshal Jones, what can you tell me about the victim?”
The hero worship in his eyes flickered, a flame too strong to snuff with one good blow. I would have to try harder next time, hit lower, if I wanted to nip this in the bud. He flipped open a notebook and read the pertinent details. “Tourist. Visiting from Wyoming. Thirty-five. Single. Her daughter booked her on a singles cruise. A snorkeling excursion package kept her on the island overnight. The ship reported her missing when she failed to board this morning. Local cop with a fae wife was first to respond and called in reinforcements from the conclave outpost next island over.”
The next island over was Nevis. I had been reassigned there after my release from Edelweiss, which begged the question, “You’re stationed there too?” I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective gesture. Guess he wasn’t the only one with a thing for shields. “I haven’t seen you around.”
Taking a page from my book, he ignored the semi-personal question and continued. “This is the second incident involving exsanguination this week. Locals are, understandably, concerned. When news of these murders leak, and tourists start booking elsewhere, the islands are going to take a hit in the wallet.”
“God forbid a case be about loss of life and not their bottom line,” I grumbled.
Jones quirked his lips like he wanted to be amused but his pride still stung from me shutting him down earlier.
I tapped my fingertips against my elbows. “What do we know about the first victim?”
“She was a local girl. Early twenties.” He pointed toward the lush, tropical forest at our backs. “She was found about a half mile in by a group of tourists out for a hike up Mount Liamuiga.”
I mulled over the details as I knew them. “So, no obvious link between the two other than gender.”
“I see why they pay you the big bucks,” he quipped. “Anything else?”
“Other than the obvious?” I lowered my voice. “Are there any vampires on the island?”
“Other than you?” He made it a pointed question.
“I’m a dhampir, as you must know if your report earned you a passing grade.” My
fangs were blunt, tiny. Barely more than human. I couldn’t pierce skin unless aroused, which was humiliating when you consider I basically had to get a dental erection before proceeding as nature intended. Hence the blood bags. It saved me from giving donors an It’s not you, it’s me speech every time my stomach rumbled and I couldn’t get them up. Or down. Whatever. “I’ve spotted a couple of transients.” Vamps clearly on vacation. “But no covey that indicates a stable local population.”
Since vamps tended toward immortality, and that included reinventing their identities every fifty years or so, it made tracking rogues hell on law enforcement. We were in deep trouble if a transient was to blame. Islands were harder to lock down than you might think with easy access to planes and boats.
“There is no covey registered to St. Kitts or Nevis. Too much sun, or so they claim.”
Or there was a bigger bad here that shared the same food source. Not a comforting thought.
Thanks to my fae mom, I didn’t go whoosh when exposed to sunlight. Though, thanks to my vamp dad, no application of sunscreen, no matter how judicious, could save me from blistering. Still, the lure of a steady and varied fresh-food supply was sweet temptation compared to the risk of sun exposure, a danger present regardless of location. There had to be another reason for the absence of vamps than fear of incineration.
Jones was still looking at me, waiting for brilliance to tumble out of my mouth, so I stated the obvious. “Odds are good we’re looking at a transient vamp or a species of blood-dependent fae.”
“Looks that way,” he agreed with a few swipes of his pen on paper.
“Do we have a list of suspects?” I prodded, wishing I could snatch that notebook out of his hands.
“We do.” His gaze flicked up to me. “But, just so you know, the locals believe it’s a chupacabra.”
“Do y’all have those here?” I wondered. “I thought they originated in Puerto Rico. Though the illegal pet trade is booming in port cities, so there is that.”
“They aren’t native, and there have been no verified sightings. I checked before you got here.”
Lips twisting as I considered all the information, I squatted beside the body and performed a quick examination. The bite marks, two perfect, circular punctures, were textbook vampire. The woman hadn’t otherwise been harmed. There were no signs of sexual assault, as often happened with forced feedings, or bruising. Meaning whatever had done this had used a lure and lulled her into complacency. I found myself feeling relieved that she had, most likely, died peacefully. Still, it was a brutal way to go.
“Ma’am?” Jones asked after a while.
I ignored him at first because the ma’am was distancing and annoying, but also because I had almost grasped a nascent understanding before his polite query derailed my thought train.
“I need to see the other body.” I rose and cast my gaze across the beach at the techs gathering evidence, snapping pictures and otherwise laying the groundwork required to snag a conviction. “Who can make that happen?”
Jones pocketed his notebook and withdrew a set of keys. “That would be me.”
“Great.” I kept my tone neutral. “I’ll need a hotel while I’m here. Nothing touristy. Got any suggestions?”
“Already handled.” A sparkle touched his eyes, and his cheek dented. “I took the liberty of reserving you a room across from mine. It will make late-night powwows easier on us both.”
I just bet it would.
Chapter 2
First things first, we hit the morgue operated by the Earthen Conclave, the supernatural equivalent of Homeland Security, an organization tasked with maintaining order between the fae and the humans unaware of our existence.
The attendant, a young woman with cornflower-blue eyes that drank in the sight of Jones with appreciation and curly blond hair she twirled around a finger, didn’t remove her earbuds when she noted our approach, when we signed in, or when we asked to be shown the victim’s body. So, I was surprised when she managed to pull out the correct drawer. I was equally surprised when she didn’t trip in the puddle of drool stringing from the corner of her mouth.
Once she returned to her desk, I hooked a thumb in her direction. “You have a fan club, I see.”
Though, fae being fae, she might have thought he looked delicious in an altogether different way than I—
No. I did not find him delicious. Aching fangs or not. He was a coworker, younger than me by decades, and therefore off the menu.
“I’m not the only one,” he shot back, a grin in his voice and admiration that extended beyond my record in his heated gaze.
My nape prickled, and I glanced away first, causing him to chuckle. He had won that round, and he knew it. Smug really shouldn’t look so good on him.
Leaning over the body, I spotted the punctures in the same vicinity as the new victim’s injuries. Nude, she showed no signs of bruising or defensive wounds. Again, I couldn’t shake the feeling the holes were vamp made. Growing up around vampires, you get an education in all the varieties of marks left from feedings. This one fit the mold of a vampire using a lure to calm a victim as he drank her down. But two bodies drained in less than forty-eight hours? That was a lot of blood for one vampire.
A pungent scent wafted up to me, and I bent down, sniffing near the wounds. Wrinkling my nose, I recoiled at the dried remnants of saliva from the worst case of halitosis I had ever had the bad fortune to cross. “The wounds have been swabbed for DNA?”
“Yep. The second victim may not yield much considering her time in the water.” He cocked his head, that blasted pencil hovering over his notebook like a reporter preparing for an interview. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “None of it fits. Yet.”
He put away his notebook and nodded. “Where’s your next stop?”
“Are you…?” I gestured between us. “Are we partners on this case?”
“I wish.” He caught himself, flushed, and my gut tightened. “What I mean is that you’re lead, and I cashed in every favor owed me to be your gofer.”
“When you say things like that,” I admitted, “I feel like I ought to burst into song and dance to make the price of admission worth your while.”
“You don’t dance.” He ducked his head. “At least not that I’ve read.”
Not wanting to enter his personal space, I ventured a step closer and cleared my throat. “Jones, you seem like a smart kid—”
“I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-eight.”
Meaning I was two decades and change older than him even if I could still pass for mid-thirties.
“—but you have to realize you talking about me like I’m a science project come to life makes me uncomfortable.” I risked a light touch on his elbow, and he blasted out a sharp breath like I’d punched him, eyes wide on that point of contact. “Don’t fling quotes at me. Get to know me, the real me. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am.” It was one thing to know I was his senior. Another to have him toss it in my face. “Call me Lena. Everyone does back home.”
Or they did until I spent a few months drugged out of my gourd and wearing pink scrubs to bed.
“Lena,” he said, testing the name like I had given him a gift.
I gestured toward the corpse. “Can you get me a copy of her case file?”
“I have one in my trunk.” Another flash of dimples creased his cheek. “I’m all about anticipating your needs.”
Suddenly, my mouth went dry, and my gums sensitized. Horror snapped my budding fangs back into place, but Jones had noticed me having some kind of reaction. His pulse hadn’t leveled since that touch but— Damn it. I hadn’t moved my hand off him yet. I snatched it back, fingertips chilling in the cool air of the morgue.
“I should—” I didn’t bother finishing, just started walking and left him to follow. I thanked the blonde on my way out, but it was Jones she told “You’re welcome. Come back anytim
e.” Like a morgue was a frickin’ pickup bar.
After an internal shake, I brushed off my annoyance. Jones giving me a stiffy wasn’t his fault, and that didn’t entitle me to anything. Not even irritation at the blonde sliding her number into his pocket in plain sight.
I hotfooted it back to his car, and I was waiting there when he pulled a folded paper from his pocket and crumpled what must have been the attendant’s number. He held my gaze as he tossed it in the trash bin on the curb.
We got in, and I waited until our seat belts had clicked before saying, “You didn’t have to do that on my account.” I glimpsed the phone in his hand. “Unless you already entered her number into your phone?”
He laughed at me, softly, a trait that was beginning to irritate. “You don’t trust easy, do you?”
“No.” When you’ve stared death in the eye and he winked at you… “I don’t.”
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Can you take me to the hotel?” Voice tight with things remembered, I turned to face the window. “I’d like to do a little digging online and read over the case file.”
“Your wish,” he said, gently this time. “My command.”
Chapter 3
The case file surrendered no new clues. A quick Google of local legends didn’t point me in a firm direction either. I searched chupacabras on the conclave’s secure database and learned more about the cryptids than I ever wanted to know. The name literally translated to “goat-sucker.” Proof they drank blood, but it was a big leap from goats and livestock to humans. Even more damning was the lack of evidence they used lures on their victims. No way had the victims been docile while a spiny-backed monster fed on them without some form of coercion involved.
The conclave had beefed up patrols in the area where the bodies had been discovered, but I got a sick feeling we wouldn’t unravel this fast enough to stop our killer from claiming a third victim.
Thrown to the Wolves (Gemini Series) Page 4
