by Terry Spear
Unique as a voice, their telepathic messages reached out to one another, communicating freely amongst themselves—assuming no human could hear them.
“Bad news ,” one said. There was no malice in his tone, only soft regret.
Another grunted. “Knew it would come to this.”
From farther away in the old warehouse district, one hissed. “Like hell you did.”
“It’ll get much worse before it gets better.” This one sounded like the seer of doom. “She won’t be able to deter him any more than…”
The vampire seer of doom quit speaking when the one who’d tagged her as a dark huntress growled his disapproval and again communicated to the others. “A huntress from the Special Crimes Unit.”
The others instantly grew silent as if he warned them this investigation was now in the hands of a different kind of predator. One who could more readily seek out the rogue vampire and have him terminated.
Another glided in on the fickle breeze in raven’s form, swooping too close to her for a normal bird, too late at night to be anything but a shape-shifting vampire. Checking her out? Taunting her?
He flew to one of the flat warehouse rooftops. Like a flock of birds of prey, they stood on top of the two-story brick buildings observing, their communications silenced. Like an invisible energy field full of electrical activity, the ancient vampires’ auras radiated more power than the others’. Three had lived many centuries.
Tezra prayed with fervor they knew who murdered the police officers, would spill their secret, and tonight she would have the identity of the beast.
Boots tromped toward her at a hurried pace. Illumination from the police flashlights reflected off the fog, casting an eerie glow over the few visible feet.
Before the body belonging to the heavy footsteps came into view, she knew who it was. Bernard, her hunter watchdog, short, squat, mean and determined, like a well-trained Rottweiler. His broad nose had been broken in a barroom brawl. A raised welt across one cheek—where a vampire’s extended canine had dragged across it before Bernard killed him—had left a permanent white scar on Bernard’s otherwise tanned face, adding to his roguish appearance. His stifling sweet cologne and the heavy odor of onions on his breath reached her when he drew close.
She ignored him, knowing he’d question her reason for being here even if Chief O’Malley failed to. If it meant locating her parents’ murderer, she wouldn’t give up the investigation, not even for the head honchos at the SCU.
Bernard crouched beside her. His black hair, normally neatly bound, dangled loose about his shoulders, which meant someone had roused him from his bed, most likely yanked him from the arms of a sleeping woman. He leaned even closer and spoke in a hushed, harsh voice. “The SCU didn’t approve your taking this job.”
She offered him as straight a face as she could muster. “The City asked me to check into it and the SCU agreed to the arrangement.”
Bernard stared at her, his blue eyes widening. The bushy black brows that bridged his nose elevated. “Your name isn’t on the active investigators list,” he said, his voice wary.
Nope, the SCU had removed her name from the list of officers credentialed to investigate high-profile renegade vampires. And definitely wouldn’t have approved it. But if she could bamboozle Bernard…
“Special assignment,” she prevaricated.
He gave her a look like he didn’t believe her, then considered the dead officer. “So what do you think is going on?”
Thank heavens he was going to let her get away with it. He was probably as concerned as she was about the killings—the SCU be damned for not allowing her to search for the truth. “I’m wondering what madness propelled him to murder these officers.” She couldn’t shake loose the images of the ones she’d examined years earlier. “Remember those cop murders from ten years ago? The three officers slain by a hunter’s sword?”
“Yeah, so what has that got to do with this case?”
“I think the recent killings are connected to the earlier ones somehow, but that two different vampires committed the atrocities. Although a more farfetched theory is that only one bloodsucker is involved and after all these years he changed his MO. In that case, he could be trying to cloak the older killings. Or is his mind teetering on the brink of madness, like a human serial killer who has to murder for the compulsion and thrill?”
Thankfully, Bernard voiced no opinion while she tried to work out the scenario aloud.
“No, too implausible. Two vampires were here tonight. Krustalus—the vampire who murdered my parents—taunted me, but I’m sure he didn’t kill Officer Stevens. Speaking with me, then eliminating the officer isn’t his way. Too easy to assume he did the killing. Besides, the sandalwood cologne I smelled was someone else’s. Or was that his ploy? Confuse the issue? But no, another was there who seemed angry with the world and continued to loiter a while longer. Gloating over the killing, probably. Maybe wanting to see what I’d do next.”
She paused, afraid she’d let her empathic secret slip. Bernard’s expression darkened, but thankfully he didn’t ask how she knew another vampire was there.
“Krustalus? You have a name now for the one you claim killed your parents?”
“Chief O’Malley gave it to me.”
His frown deepening, Bernard considered the dead officer again. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Grinding her teeth, she vowed to catch them both.
She motioned to a policeman. “Measure how deeply the teeth sank into the officer’s throat, and have the medical examiner send the tissue samples to me. Oh, and find out what cologne he wore.”
The officer raised a brow quizzically. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You come from a long line of investigators and hunters with the SCU,” Bernard said to Tezra. “Hell, I think you’re the only current member who has ties to some of the first who settled in America prior to the Revolutionary War. You don’t want to be the first one in your family to be kicked out.”
“Second, but who’s counting?” She was proud of her heritage, but the SCU would not dictate to her when it came to proving the vampire—Krustalus—murdered her parents!
“The situation with your Grandmother Irving isn’t the same. Becoming the rogue vampire’s lover when she was supposed to eliminate him—”
“I still can’t fathom why she did it.” The thought any huntress would set aside her convictions to fool around with a renegade vampire curdled Tezra’s blood.
She rose to her feet and studied the surrounding warehouse district. Except for the brick building poking out of the mist six feet from where she stood, she couldn’t see a blamed thing.
“You’re setting yourself up on this one,” Bernard growled. “Why?”
“The SCU doesn’t feel this job warrants one of their more prominent Special Crime investigators, so they gave it to me as a special assignment. Just to get me off their backs for a while.” She hoped she wouldn’t be struck dead for lying, but it was the only way to continue her work to determine the truth behind all the killings. Under her breath she added, “The targeted victims are eerily similar to the ones murdered ten years ago—same occupation, precinct, approximate age, and all male.” And the fact that Krustalus was here when Stevens was murdered? He had to be connected somehow to the recent ones too.
She faced the police officer in charge of the site. “I’ll give a report to your chief by midday tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That police dispatcher, Mandy Salazar, hooked you into this job, didn’t she?” Bernard asked.
Heading for her car, Tezra didn’t answer him.
“She’s bound to be the death of you.”
“True,” the seer-of-doom vampire said.
Tezra fought looking in the direction where he stood and said to Bernard instead, “Listen, despite the SCU frowning on my relationship with Mandy, she’s been my friend for the past four years.” She gave Bernard a scathing look. “When I needed someone, you w
ere there for me, and so was she. I don’t care that members of the elite vampire investigative and elimination unit don’t normally socialize with regular police. Since when have you known me to live strictly by SCU rules?”
She shoved her ice-cold fingers into her pockets. “But no, Mandy didn’t solicit my help in solving the crimes this time.”
And neither had the police chief. Just Officer Stevens’s urgent communication sent privately to her: Come alone and I’ll tell you the name of the vampire who murdered your parents. Warehouse district. An hour from now.
Had the bloodsucker forced Stevens to lure Tezra here, using his vampiric abilities to persuade his victim? So that she would witness Stevens’s death firsthand? Yet, the vampire didn’t show himself, wouldn’t give her the chance to fight or identify him. Bastard.
Bernard growled. “Hell, you know Mandy likes women better than men, and a lot of guys are beginning to infer things about your relationship with her.”
One of the vampires snickered. “That negates my interest in the dark huntress.”
“Wouldn’t stop me,” another said.
“Silence!” the one who’d originally called her a dark huntress said.
He was the one who intrigued her the most. Since he seemed to be in charge of the others, did he know anything concerning the murders?
Trying to ignore the vampires’ telepathic communication, but not about to take Bernard’s bait, Tezra raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping or something?”
“Senior Member Ingrid alerted me you were here without anyone to watch your back.”
Tezra let out her breath, exasperated that the senior staff already knew of her involvement, but surprised Senior Member Ingrid hadn’t told Bernard to stop her. She’d hoped Bernard had gotten wind of it on his own, the way he often did in matters concerning her, playing his bodyguard role to the hilt.
“If you aren’t careful, Bernard, the renegade vampires will want to eliminate you too.” If he’d kill Patrico and her parents, why not Bernard also, since he was her bodyguard? She didn’t want the bastard vampires to murder anyone else, and Bernard would be a prime target.
Ignoring her warning, he asked, “How do you know it’s a he?”
No vampiric communication now. Everyone waited for her response. Wouldn’t they be surprised to learn their own words confirmed the murderer was a he?
“Deeper bite marks. Severely crushed windpipe. The vampire who did this appears to have an uncontrollable rage.” No way could she tell Bernard she’d heard the vampires’ communications. Keeping her telepathic and empathic abilities secret was the only way to get along in this crazy, mixed-up world.
“I’ll give the senior staff a report on your actions tomorrow morning. They won’t let you continue to conduct the investigation.”
Unruffled, she poked the buttons to the keypad of her Ford Taurus. “It won’t matter now, will it? I’m already involved in all of this mess, and Krustalus will continue to come after me. I won’t have a choice but to terminate him.” The other also, since she was certain he wouldn’t want her to learn his identity and he’d target her for termination next. She didn’t have the legal right to eliminate bloodsuckers except in self-defense, but if she ever confronted either of them face to face, she imagined legalities wouldn’t be an issue. She yanked her door open.
Before she could slip into her car, Bernard seized her arm. “You need a hunter mate to keep you in line.”
“What? You think I belong to that all-exclusive members-only club? Just because a lot of you feel the female investigators and huntresses should marry only within their ranks, don’t include me, buster.”
Tezra sensed one of the vampires’ anger. Internally, he bit back a hiss.
The others merely watched, intrigued. Would her hunter bodyguard force her to obey? That’s what crossed their egotistical minds. Except for the one. He was different from the rest, his feelings darker, sometimes hidden, sometimes worn across his chest like a banner for all to see. For now, he barely contained his rage, which totally threw her. Why would he care how Bernard treated her?
She jerked her arm free from him. Hunters could be as arrogant as vampires. “Go home to your concubine.”
The murdering vampire wasn’t watching her any longer. But what if the ones who observed them were in league with the murderers? All they’d have to do was relay everything she said or did to the others. Faking agitation, she poked her finger at Bernard’s chest and raised her voice, willing to do anything to keep the killer vampire from targeting him next. “You’re not an investigator! Leave this to the professionals!”
“Dammit, I know what you’re attempting to do.” His words were couched in anger, and he spoke low for her benefit only. Bernard growled at her. “You think he’s watching us, and you’re trying to keep me safe. But the SCU cannot afford to lose a brilliant investigator.”
“Brilliant investigator? Why, Bernard, I think you might be interested in me.”
“What’s the use?” He shrugged. “You shun any hunter’s attempt to make you his own.”
“I’m not ready to settle down. Besides, SCU hunters have to keep a squeaky clean profile. None would be interested in a woman who tests the rules so much. Even borderline hunter rogues probably figure I’d get them into even deeper water if they had anything to do with me.”
“You wouldn’t have to settle down completely. Don’t you ever desire something more than this?” He motioned in the direction of the crime scene. Then his callused fingers touched her cheek, and he leaned down to kiss her lips, his onion breath repulsing her.
“Sorry.” She placed a hand on his chest and stepped back. For now, she was more concerned with how the vampires might see her relationship with him. “Besides, you’re all talk when it comes to settling down. Hell, several women keep your bed warm on alternate nights.” She cocked a brow and his lips curved up. He’d never do as a marital prospect. “Got to go.”
He folded his arms, a frown digging into his temple. “Why the SCU ever selected me to watch over you is beyond my comprehension.”
“They know we get along so well. Talk to you later.”
He shook his head. “You’ll be the death of us both.”
Yeah, if he didn’t keep his nose out of her affairs, she feared one of the murderers would attempt to kill them both. Unfortunately, the stern look on Bernard’s face indicated he wasn’t about to let her do this on her own. She would have to use some stronger tactics of persuasion to convince him to leave well enough alone, or go underground with this like she’d done concerning the other group of unsolved murders. The SCU definitely wouldn’t approve. Which meant more trouble was bound to head her way.
Glancing in the direction of the buildings where some of the most ancient vampires still stood, she sensed they represented far more difficulty for her than the Unit could ever dish out.
***
“Another killing, Atreides?” Daemon turned away from his twin brother and again studied the SCU investigator, Tezra Campbell. He’d gained her name from the police officers’ discussion of her when she was far enough away not to hear their crude comments. Not a few of them wondered what it would be like to peel the leather from her skin and expose the beauty beneath, to roll with her under the sheets, to find out if she was as hot in bed as she looked crouching at a crime scene.
The petite brunette tucked her hip-length hair behind her ear, the leather pants molding to her curvaceous legs and the short-waisted jacket showing off one hell of a sumptuous ass. The black turtleneck wrapped around her throat like protective armor. Daemon found himself wanting to pull it aside and feel the blood pulsing rapidly through her neck, to taste her tender skin, lap up her warm, sweet blood and sense her tremble beneath his fingertips, drawn to his power.
He clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the feelings she stirred in him. Lust, nothing else, he chided himself. Yet, there was something about the woman that drew him in, more than her enticing form or resolute
determination to take on a case that would earn her the death penalty from the vampire who had killed the police officers. Even more than the way she tried to ensure the hunter’s safety should the rogue vampire target him next.
Daemon could have sworn she touched his mind, though normally humans couldn’t do such a thing. Yet, the gentle stroke he had felt hadn’t come from a vampiress seeking intimacy. If it had, she would have pursued him and attempted to solicit his response. The touch he had felt had been different, like the mist brushing his skin, softly, almost imperceptibly, there. No quest for sexual fulfillment, no personal communications meant solely for him. Something secretive, elusive and intimately seductive.
She closed her car door, and the engine roared to life.
“Such is the way of this violent world,” Atreides finally said, as if he’d been caught up in the woman’s mesmerizing qualities too.
Daemon’s twin looked nearly identical to him except for being a tad shorter, his sable hair slightly less dark, and his eyes more of a chestnut brown, paler than Daemon’s. Tonight Atreides wore a black leather trench coat, like he always did when he was on the prowl for a new blood bond. He appeared to be in one of his stranger, unfathomable moods. Something was percolating, but despite Daemon’s attempts to catch glimpses of his thoughts, Atreides kept them shielded. Which meant Atreides was up to something. How many times would he have to get his brother out of some misadventure that might get them both killed?
“You had nothing to do with this police killing either, Atreides?” Daemon asked.
“Why do you always think so ill of me?” Atreides pointed to another warehouse. “More of our kind watch, as curious as we are about who’s killing the police officers. So what do you think about the new investigator?”
