Rajmund

by D. B. Reynolds

Raj woke in a much better mood on his second night in the city. He'd had plenty of time this morning to get back to his lair, strip off his clothes and even enjoy a nice, cold shot of vodka before settling down to sleep the day away, safe in his personal vault below the streets of downtown Buffalo. And it didn't hurt that he'd be paying Sarah a personal visit very soon. The taste of her skin had been sweet. Her blood would be even sweeter. He frowned. There was, however, a lot more to Sarah Stratton than a sweet taste. She was hiding something and he intended to know what it was before this night was over.

  He checked his watch. It was just after eight. There was one stop he needed to make first—some preparations for Em and the troops. And then sweet Sarah would have his undivided attention and he would have his answers.

  His phone rang as he pulled up to a big industrial building not far from Buffalo's international airport. “Where are you, Em?” he answered.

  "My lord,” Em said, speaking loudly to be heard over the considerable background noise of a small airport. “We're loading supplies, now. We'll be there before midnight."

  "I'm at the safe house,” he said, staring out the windshield at the darkened building. “I'll turn on the lights and warm it up, but I won't be here when you arrive. I'm meeting someone in a few minutes."

  "Dinner, boss?"

  "You could say that. Speaking of which, you've all fed tonight, right?"

  "You have to ask?"

  "Right. Have everyone stay close when you get into town. I'll come by later and fill you in, but something is majorly fucked up in this city, and I don't want any of my people going out there blind."

  "Will do, boss."

  "Later."

  Raj slipped the phone into his jacket pocket and got out of the car. The old warehouse loomed two stories above him, lit only by the big security lights all along its substantial length, and above the door. Its brick walls were old and blackened from years of airport pollution and hard weather, and it appeared deserted. An astute observer would have noticed, however, that the light fixtures were new and enclosed in sturdy cages to deter vandalism. That although the windows were dirty and flecked with bird droppings, not a single one of them was cracked or broken, the panes filled with safety glass and firmly sealed. And the single pedestrian entrance was a solid steel door with a heavy duty lock.

  Raj had always known that someday he'd be making a move against Krystof. He'd bought this property years ago, snapping it up at a bargain price when its former owner had needed a discreet sale and Raj had had the cash on hand. Of course, the title had changed several times since then—on paper, anyway. As he stared up at the building, it hit him for the first time that before the month was out he would be the Northeastern Vampire Lord. It never occurred to him that he would fail. He would defeat Krystof and take his place as one of the rarified few who controlled all of Vampire society. It was not something he particularly lusted after. If Krystof had been a different sort of master, Raj would have been content to stay in Manhattan with his clubs and his children, insulated against vampire politics.

  But Krystof had always been a petty tyrant, forever the spoiled, younger son of an aging royal house to which he'd been born to as a human. The recent deterioration of his mind had only exacerbated inborn weaknesses. And, as for Raj, he'd had enough of one master; he had no intention of serving another.

  He unlocked the sturdy metal door. A soft security light came on to reveal a small vestibule, with a second door a few feet beyond. The interior door opened readily, once the exterior door was fully closed, and Raj stepped into the main building, immediately flipping switches to bring up the overhead lights.

  While the building's exterior only hinted that it was more than it looked, the inside left no doubt. The only windows were high above the floor and sealed with thick steel shutters. Long banks of industrial lights illuminated every corner of the vast, empty space. And when Raj's people arrived later, they'd drive their vehicles right into the warehouse through the roll-up bay doors, which were currently secured by thick rods drilled into the concrete floor.

  There was a mezzanine over the loading bay, with several rooms for his human guards—a few trusted men and women whom Em would bring in from Manhattan along with the vampire contingent. As with Raj's much smaller, private warehouse downtown, the main sleeping quarters for the vampires were below ground, safe behind a bank-like vault door.

  His booted footsteps echoed loudly as he crossed the warehouse floor. Down two short flights of stairs, he keyed in a digital combination and opened the vault. The accommodations inside were Spartan, but then this had never been intended as a permanent headquarters. It was a staging area, nothing more. He turned on the lights there as well, checked the temperature on the thermostat and headed back upstairs, leaving the door open behind him. Upstairs, there was a microwave to serve the dual function of heating food for the humans and blood for the vampires. A refrigerator sat next to the counter, which doubled as a bar, and against the far wall, near the stairs, a large blood storage unit hummed happily. It was empty now, but not for long. He verified that it was working and glanced again at his watch. Time to go.

  Leaving the main lights on, he closed and secured the vault and exited the building, locking it behind him. Em knew this place; she'd been the one who'd helped him set it up. She certainly didn't need him to tell her how to get their people settled. And besides, Sarah was waiting.

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  Chapter Eighteen

  Sarah linked arms with Linda as they walked out of the restaurant. The cold night air bit hard after the warm restaurant which, in this case, was a good thing. She'd probably had too much wine to drink, but it had tasted so good and for just a little while, she'd been able to forget everything else and just enjoy the party. Unfortunately, she could never forget for too long or too well. Which was why Linda would soon be back inside with Sam and his friends, getting even tipsier, while sober Sarah went home like the good girl she'd never planned to become.

  "Are you sure you won't stay, sweetie?” Linda's breath was fragrant with the lovely Chateau Margaux they'd been drinking all evening.

  "Yes, I'm sure. I've got to get some sleep or I'll be useless tomorrow, and I need to get back to my research.” She hadn't told Linda that Raj was coming over later and didn't intend to. Her friend would probably begin planning the wedding if she found out Sarah had an actual date.

  "I do research, too,” Linda said happily. “Just not very often.” She laughed, as if that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. In the restaurant, she'd insisted on walking Sarah safely out to her car, but now Sarah was wondering who was going to walk Linda safely back inside.

  "Maybe you should go back inside,” she said now, trying to turn them back toward the restaurant. “I can find my—"

  "Good evening, Sarah."

  She jumped at the sound of Raj's voice, turning to find him leaning casually against her car, looking like a cross between the bad boy every mother warned her daughter about and a model in a Calvin Klein aftershave ad. His broad shoulders were encased in leather, his narrow hips and long legs covered in snug fitting denims that made her stomach—and lower parts of her anatomy, too—ache. He gave her a wicked smile, as if he knew exactly what she was feeling.

  "Raj,” she all but squeaked.

  "Raj?” Linda stopped dead in her tracks, suddenly completely sober as she took in this new development. “And who might this be, Sarah, my darling?” she asked silkily, scanning the vampire head to toe with unabashed curiosity. “That research you had to get back to, perhaps?"

  "Um.” Sarah felt herself blushing and hurried to say, “Linda, this is Raymond Gregor. Raj, my friend Linda Hoffman."

  Raj gave Linda a cool glance and held out his hand to Sarah. She took it without thinking and found herself pulled away from Linda's embrace and into the curve of his arm. He secured her there before saying, “A pleasure, Linda. I'll see to it that Sarah gets home safely."

  "Will you?” Linda sai
d archly, with a speculative glance at Sarah. “Well, well."

  "Linda, Raj and I—"

  "Are old friends,” Raj interrupted. “I was in town and looked Sarah up. It's been a while, hasn't it, sweetheart?” He kissed her temple, his breath warm on her skin, and she shivered with something other than the cold.

  "Hmmm.” Linda clearly wasn't buying it, but she was just as clearly willing to wait for the entire story. “I'll just leave you two to catch up, then.” She laughed a little and said, “We'll talk, Sarah darling,” before strolling back across the parking lot with a little wave over her shoulder.

  Sarah turned to demand an explanation from Raj but found herself swept literally off her feet as he lifted her directly into a searing kiss that made her anger disappear, along with about half of her brain cells. He crushed her against him, kissing her as hungrily as if they truly had been separated for too long, even though it had been only hours. She felt her own response rising to meet his with an intensity she couldn't recall ever experiencing before. She didn't want to think about anything except the taste of his mouth, the sweep of his tongue against hers, the feel of his big body enclosing her, sheltering her from the unfriendly night. She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering his name against his lips.

  "I think—” Raj began, but whatever he thought was delayed by her renewed demand for his mouth. “Sarah,” he tried again, succeeding in getting his lips close enough to her ear for her to hear what he was saying. “Your friend is still watching."

  She stiffened at the reminder they were right outside Buffalo's most popular restaurant. She buried her face against his shoulder and he chuckled softly. “I'll drive you home."

  "No,” she protested. “I can—"

  He tightened his hold. “Well, I can't,” he growled. “I don't want you out of my sight."

  Fresh desire rolled through her body on a wave of warmth. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Raj's car was parked right next to hers. He beeped the locks open and all but lifted her into the passenger seat, closing the door with a solid thunk. Sarah jumped a little at the sound, a jolt of adrenaline clearing her head long enough to wonder what she was doing in Raj's car, getting ready to drive back to her house and—

  Raj leaned over from the driver's seat to give her a quick, hard kiss. “Don't think so hard, sweetheart. I'm not dangerous.” He spun the wheel in a tight circle, taking them past the startled valets and out of the parking lot. “Not to you anyway,” he muttered.

  Sarah gave him a worried glance, but quickly realized she liked the idea that he might be dangerous. She liked this big, lethal vampire lusting after her, wanting her so badly that he'd been ready to take her right there in the parking lot. And he had been ready. She might not be experienced, but she knew when a man wanted her. Of course, she hadn't exactly been fighting him off either. She smiled, feeling just a little satisfied with herself.

  Raj reached out at that moment to take her hand, raising it to his mouth for a soft kiss before settling it on his hard-muscled thigh. “Your place or mine, sweetheart?"

  Sarah gave him a surprised look. “You have a place?"

  He laughed. “Of course, I have a place. Where do you think I sleep, the local graveyard?"

  Sarah blushed. “No,” she protested. “Of course not. I just thought . . . I don't know. Maybe a hotel?"

  He snorted in dismissal. “Have you seen the local hotels? I'm from Manhattan, darling. I'm accustomed to a higher standard. So, what's it to be? I've got a turn coming up."

  "My place, I guess,” Sarah said, beginning to worry again about what she'd gotten herself into. “I live—"

  "I know where you live. I was supposed to meet you there."

  "Then why—” She frowned at a sudden thought. “How'd you know which restaurant?"

  He shrugged easily. “You said it was a celebration. There aren't that many places worth celebrating in around here. I got lucky and saw your car."

  Sarah wasn't sure she believed him, but couldn't figure out any other way he'd have known where to find her. “Look, Raj—” He kissed her hand again, one finger at a time, with a lingering caress of his lips and just a touch of tongue.

  "You're thinking again,” he said. “And besides . . .” He pulled to a stop in front of her house. “We're here, and I've earned at least a good-night kiss for seeing you home safely."

  Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but he was already out of the car and at her open door, holding out his hand to help her. She knew better, but she took his hand anyway, letting him pull her into his embrace, knowing she'd feel that same tug of desire the minute . . . Oh, God, yes.

  Raj followed Sarah up the front stairs to a turn of the century duplex with a pair of old and slightly warped doors. The unit on the left was dark, but the twitch of a curtain told him someone was watching. Beneath the porch light, Sarah inserted her key and unlocked the crummy piece of shit masquerading as a deadbolt. The door opened and Raj breathed in the scent of her home, feeling a deep satisfaction flowing in, along with the unique fragrance that was Sarah. She looked up at him, her long hair a golden spill over soft shoulders, and his brain was suddenly filled with a single word. Mine. The thought hit him before he could stop it, and he frowned even as his body kicked hard into an instinctive response. His fangs were pushing eagerly through his gums, hungry for a taste of her blood, and his cock was stiffening with an entirely different sort of hunger. He'd never felt this instant attraction to a woman. He wasn't sure he liked it, but he definitely wanted it.

  "Are you going to invite me in?” he asked lazily.

  She looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Do you think I should?"

  He gave her a shark's grin, tugging her close enough that she could feel his body's reaction. “Unless you'd rather do this on the porch so your neighbor can enjoy it too."

  Sarah blushed hotly and stepped inside the house. “Come on in."

  Raj paused long enough to wink at whoever was watching next door, and then followed Sarah, immediately closing the door behind him. She threw her coat over the stairway banister, kicked off her heels and started toward the back of the duplex. Without her coat, he could see she was wearing a skirt and sweater. It wasn't the silky, sheer dress of summer he'd wished for the other night, but it was very nice indeed, the skirt tight and clinging to her hips, accenting a very nicely rounded ass. He watched that ass as he followed her into the kitchen. She was muttering some nonsense about a cup of tea, lifting the kettle and shaking it before putting it back on the burner and twisting the knob to bring up the flame. When she turned to find him standing right behind her, she gave a little squeak of surprise.

  "Are you afraid of me, Sarah?” he asked quietly, pushing her hair behind one ear with a gentle finger.

  "Terrified,” she said with a nervous little laugh. “But not the way you think."

  Raj's lips quirked up in a smile as he let his finger travel down her neck and over the fragile arc of her clavicle, coming to rest just above the full swell of her breasts, where he could feel the gentle beat of her heart. “I think you look good enough to eat."

  "Oh,” she breathed. Her eyes, when they met his, were still wide, but no longer uncertain.

  He closed the distance between them, pulling her against his body with a possessive arm around her waist, his hand on her hip as he bent down to breathe deeply of her warm scent. Her heart was racing, her breathing fast and shallow. Her breasts were soft against his chest, her nipples hard. He slid his hand beneath her sweater to touch the soft, warm silk of her skin and she melted into his embrace, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, her slender fingers playing with the ends of his hair, as she raised her face to his for a kiss. Wanting far more than playful kisses, Raj growled and fisted his fingers into her silky tresses, lowering his mouth to her bare neck. He could smell the blood flowing hot and sweet, could feel the rush of her jugular against his lips as he bent to taste. His fangs emerged slowly to graze the velvet of her s
kin, as hard and ready as his cock against her belly. She moaned softly, and he felt it as a gentle vibration against his heart. His woman. Her blood, his to drink; her body, his to take.

  Raj froze. He raised his head and his hands stilled. He blinked against the nearly overwhelming need to sink his teeth into her, to lift her up onto the counter and take her right there in the kitchen. Sarah whimpered his name softly, hungrily.

  What the hell? He placed his hands on her shoulders and straightened his arms, forcing her away from him, putting enough space between them that he could draw a breath without inhaling the intoxicating aroma of her arousal. “Sarah,” he said, shaking her slightly. “Sarah!"

  She protested softly, looking up at him in confusion with eyes that were blurred with desire. “Raj?” she said in a small, hurt voice.

  "Fuck!” He pulled her against his chest once more, wrapping his arms around her tightly and trapping her arms between them. She struggled fitfully to touch him, stroking him with aborted little jerks of her hands. His own arousal tormented him, screaming at him to go ahead and take her. He buried his face in her hair and groaned. It would be so easy to lift her up, to slide that tight skirt up to her waist, spread her legs and pound his aching cock into her until they both came screaming. She wanted it. And God knew he did; his entire body was throbbing, aching with the need of it. But the very strength of his desire made him stop, because Raj didn't do this sort of thing, didn't lose control with any woman, much less one he barely knew. He was in control, always in control.

  "Sarah,” he commanded. He took her delicate jaw in one hand and forced her to look at him.

  "Raj,” she responded impatiently.

  He sighed, regretting what he was about to do, wishing he was a bit more of a selfish bastard. But he wasn't. With a gentle nudge of her mind, he sent her to sleep, erasing her memories of the evening since her return home. She collapsed, but he caught her easily, lifting her in his arms, holding her against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.