Dark Temptations

by Penelope Harlow

  Contents

  About the Book

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  TEASER: Dark Seductions

  P's Harlots

  Being half-vampire, half-succubus, you’d think I have the best of both worlds.

  I do.

  The immortality, the riches, not to mention the sex that’s good enough to kill for.

  Literally.

  But even my perfect life isn’t perfect, as I’m about to discover. It seems the past doesn’t want to leave me be.

  Well, if the past wants a war, I say bring it.

  No one fucks with Caroline Gray.

  Copyright 2014 by Penelope Harlow

  All rights reserved.

  This book is for Tonya, enjoy the dark corners of my filthy mind.

  And of course Iris, for being my hero when I had no clue what in the hell I was doing.

  For Milly, and her touch of perversions that I must have ingested via osmosis.

  And lastly, for Katie and Sami, because buttered muffins from the bakery make for the best starts in a career of writing smut.

  WHO KNEW THE POLICE were against a hot succubus roaming around the precinct in her delicates?

  I didn't.

  Well, maybe I did, but I wasn’t planning on a trip to the station, otherwise I would have prepared appropriately.

  Before I was rudely arrested and tossed into the back of a cop car, my night was moving along like any other. I was dressed just fine for what my night had entailed; clubbing, drinking, and scouting a few lucky souls wanting to experience pleasure on a whole new level. A delicious mommy-daughter combo had spotted me at the bar, or so they thought. I had picked up on their scents the moment they stepped inside the upscale club, a pleasing twist of lavender and peaches. Like me, they had been on the prowl, searching for something or someone to spice up their evening.

  Unlucky for them, I wasn’t the kind of person you walked away from after a night in bed. But it was okay, I made sure their final moments were of pure sensual bliss. It was the least I could do for my victims.

  Seated on the edge of blood-drenched sheets, the pair of naked bodies had barely begun to cool when the police stomped into my house and up into my room. Screaming, shouting, pointing those awful guns and their holy water bathed bullets that made my skin itch. All trained on me, the naked woman perched on the edge of her bed, licking blood of her fingertips.

  It was sweet, exactly like the way they smelled. A hint of peaches and lavender.

  Sadly, none of the officers wanted to taste. They all repeated the same thing, like boring little robots.

  “Caroline Gray, you’re wanted for questioning on behalf of Detective Samuel Coulson. Please make yourself decent, and come with us.”

  Coming wasn’t the problem. I could do that by myself in under a minute. Making myself decent, however, was another beast entirely.

  Hence the problem with prancing around in my delicates. Apparently, calling yourself decent while standing about in a black bra and matching lacy panties spattered in a touch of blood wasn’t considered acceptable.

  Which brought me to my first complaint against the officers of the night.

  They made me put on pants. Or, in the words of the one officer, "Anything to cover up your delicates, ma'am." When they didn't let me pick a pair by myself, one of the other officers tossed me a pair of pants. Fucking running pants. When did I even buy running pants? At least they didn’t ask me to cover up my chest with some gaudy blouse, too. Covering my highly coveted asset of a body wasn’t something I was accustomed to, nor did I ever want to get accustomed to it.

  But back to the pants.

  It was fucking barbaric. Anyone who looked as good as I did should have been executed for wearing pants. It was a disservice to the public, really.

  The trip to the station was typical. Silent car ride, little snickers exchanged between the pair of idiots in the front. They seemed to think a mesh and glass double-divider would keep me from hearing their little remarks about my ass, and how I couldn't seem to stay out of trouble when it came to our side of the world.

  See, it wasn't just humans picking me up, and we certainly weren't visiting the nearest mortal police station for a grilling in a dark room a-la court-drama TV. I was on my way to a familiar little station on the outskirts of town, one that had an entire crew for the night shift, and they all had immortal looks and cute little fangs to go with the theme.

  Vampires. Yes, they were all vampires.

  It didn't phase me, hell, if anything it amused me. I'd lived long enough to know just about every vamp this side of the States. Contrary to popular belief, there wasn't some huge undercurrent of vampires matching mortals 1:1. All in all, there were probably ten thousand of the sensual bloodsuckers roaming around the night, running jobs in the night shift that allowed them to survive with little disruptions to the human world. Blood banks, police stations, construction workers, you get the picture. Only a few aimed for the coveted spotlight professions that vampires portray in movies, like models for example. There were only two vampires out of the whole bunch who did modeling work. Why? Try explaining to that end of the fast-paced society you can only work night hours, they call it demanding and move onto the next desperate anorexic who frets over their diet soda and celery sticks going straight to their pre-pubecent boy hips.

  It was established some ways back that, out of all the supernatural freaks lurking in the myths and mysteries, that vampires would be the best bridge into the mortal world to ensure they were hidden from prying eyes of nosy humans. Which meant when shit went down, or someone found themselves in a spot of dead-body trouble in my case, I'd take a visit to the equivalent of a vampire nest, banter with the boys in blue and gold, and go home when they ran out of questions or the sun came up. Whichever came first.

  Spoiler alert: The sun usually beat them to the punch.

  "Come on, succu-freak," muttered an officer, leading me out of the cruiser and into the precinct. The second my five-inch red heels clicked on the floor, all heads turned up to stare. Even in handcuffs and covering my delicious legs, I drew in attention. It was the succubus within, calling to each of them with whatever tempted them to come closer. Scents, images, sounds, you name it. My presence always unraveled every officer until they looked outright uncomfortable in their clothes.

  At the end of the left side, the pair led me into an office. I didn't need to read the door to know it belonged to a familiar face, Samuel Coulson. Or as I called him, my darling little Sam. Uncuffed, I was told to sit down, stay put, and not touch anything. Fine by me.

  I was starting to get a little too familiar with the place. After seeing it so many times, I could practically replicate the little cracks in the plaster above the door frame to Detective Coulson's office. The filing cabinets crammed in the corner were still lopsided, and his desk and walls held no proof of a life beyond the meager four walls.

  Just as I considered stripping off my pants in favor of a little less coverage, the door opened behind me. The scent of cigarettes and pine trees filled the room, following the male as he walked into the room. In typical vampire fashion, Sam was frozen in his handsome self. I had pegged him around his mid-twenties when he turned. His body was built like a male underwear model; all muscle in all the right places, thin waist that tapered to visible hip-bones hinting to a more inviting location just below the belt. His sandy-blond hair was short and slightly ruffled, as if he couldn't keep running his fingers through the strands out of habit. It went well with the pe
rmanent stubble lining his jaw, and the sharp teal colored eyes that could never look away from me when we stood in the same room.

  "Sam," I purred, letting the lazy smile tip up my lips. "Lovely evening, isn't it? Or do you call this daytime? I don't know what you..." I searched for the word, drawing my tongue across my lips. "... purebloods call your waking hours."

  "Save it, Caroline," he snapped, glancing over his shoulder and giving the little pretty thing behind him a nod. I had noticed her the moment she walked in with Sam- compact, busty, sporting a brilliant spray on tan that made her skin look like a buttery orange. Even vampires made mistakes with cosmetics.

  She sat down across from me, resting her hands on the cold, silver table top with our delicate and inhuman grace. "My name is Eliza, and I'll be interviewing you today alongside Detective Coulson."

  "Oh, good cop bad cop?" I bit my lip, still smiling. "I love this game."

  Eliza flicked her silvery-blue eyes at me in a glare sharp enough to deliver whiplash. Had I not been at this game for the last hundred years, I might have actually taken offense to it. Instead, I leaned over the tabletop with feline grace, and touched the hem of Coulson's collar, tsking softly.

  "You never could keep your clothes pressed for the job, Sam." I said, lightly adjusting his collar. Heat creeped up his skin like blush on a mortal, and I bit back the need to push him further, to pull him in with every word that left my lips. It wouldn't be hard, as it came with the territory of reigning succubus.

  Well, succubus and then some, if we were to get technical.

  Sitting back in my seat, I tipped my head up to the dingy ceiling, bored as quickly as I had been interested. "So why the house call, Detectives?"

  "We need to ask you some questions, Caroline, concerning your whereabouts on Tuesday evening," Eliza informed me. The sound of shuffling papers ruffled the silence. "Please, spare no details."

  "I never do, darling," I smirked. Flicking my eyes down to catch her tight-lipped stare, I pulled in a small breath between my teeth. "Let's see, Tuesday night.... that would be when I found the cute little mortal on Seventh. He asked me if my breasts were real, and I offered him the chance of a lifetime to find out."

  Beside her, Coulson groaned in exasperation. "Caroline..."

  "What?" I let out a tiny laugh, fighting the sultry smile on my lips. The memory of the young, able-bodied mortal and his blood was enough to reawaken the need to feed all over again. With luck, I could hold off two, maybe three nights before I would need to consume another poor innocent's soul. If I wanted to starve myself, that is. What I shame I loved to feed my appetite more than I liked to play by the High Society's rules. My nails ran delicately over the skin on my neck, dipping between my breasts before resting on the table again.

  Eliza's high, curious voice broke into my blissful memory. "How are you even alive?"

  The pretty memory that had coiled in my conscious vanished in a puff of air. Really, did people have no class these days? My attention turned to Sam, and I could see the frustration written on his face. For a vampire, he was surprisingly easy to read. They all were, because they all couldn't hide from the threads of humanity that still lingered in their frozen minds. Vampires loved to boast that they were emotionless, damned, and soulless creatures with their inner monsters, but they didn't see things like I did.

  "I take it Coulson hasn't filled you in on his little tease," I said at last, tilting my head down until we met face-to-face. Once glance at her was all it took to see the fresh marks on her neck. Her eyes were cold, like all vampires were, but it lacked the depth that came with seeing one too many decades. She was a baby, fresh meat in a house of beef, and already she thought herself tough enough to play with the grown ups. How cute.

  Flicking my gaze to Sam, I raised my eyebrows. "How old?"

  "Does it matter?" His frosty gaze fought with mine.

  "Answer the question, Detective. How old?"

  Sam sighed. "Twelve days."

  Twelve days... hilarious! I leaned back in my chair once more, laughter shaking my shoulders with every rise and fall of my chest. Eliza was twelve days old. She wasn't fresh meat, she was still a baby calf learning to walk. And the department hired her, let her out around me? She was lucky I hadn't tried to suck her dry for an afternoon snack. At least it explained why Coulson was tagging with her, seeing as he was the only one in the department qualified to handle my... temperament.

  "How beautiful," I said at last, breathing between a light giggle. "You must be something special if they've taken you on so soon, Eliza." Her eyes widened at the sound of her name leaving my lips. Oh yes, she was young, especially if I could hook her that fast. I focused on her, pinning down her curious stare. "Or are they simply so short-staffed that Coulson needed to create a fledgling all on his own?"

  Eliza blinked, the innocent gaze dimming to a half-lidded gaze. "They found me this way, off Route 12. I... I was offered a place to stay with—”

  "That's enough," Sam hissed, clasping his hands over Eliza's eyes. She sucked in a sharp gasp and jerked in her seat, stilling after he reassured her it was him. He cut across me with his familiar sweeping, restless eyes. "She hasn't had time to adjust, Caroline."

  Was I supposed to feel pity for his little calf? Hardly. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, letting my words do their magic as I purred. "Should have thought about that before you put her in the lion's den, sweetheart."

  Sam had readjusted in his chair, pulling the file away from Eliza's delicate little hands. I could still make out the faint tan line on his ring finger, a parting gift of his mortal life. The thought of his hands brought back memories that both excited and offended my cold heart, teasing me with glimpsed of a time we gave into our worst with little consequence. I may have been a succubus, but I still carried a little sense of morality about me when I felt like it.

  I watched him with a curious glance as he ran a hand through his short, toffee colored locks absentmindedly. He fished a photo from the file and spun it around, showing me a standard corpse mug shot.

  "Caroline, was this the person you fed off Tuesday night?"

  Sam's face was unreadable as he slid the picture across the table, fingers pressed tightly on the edge of the shot. I spared the photo a momentary glance, taking note of the dead corpse's lush blonde locks cropped close to his head. He may have been a surfer in an earlier version of his life, sporting tanned skin and glistening hair as he jumped out from the warm ocean waters on a sweltering summer day.

  I looked back at Sam, bored. "He's cute... but he's not my type."

  That got a hardened chuckle. "You have a type?"

  "Everyone does." I let my eyes slowly drink him in, pleased when he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Don't you?"

  "Miss Gray," Eliza cut in, clearing her throat. "Detective Coulson is married. His type is not relevant to this case."

  I bit back the urge to sneer like an annoyed pre-teen at the blonde. "Then what is relevant to this case? Am I under arrest, or are you here to harass me because you need a scapegoat for the media?"

  The little cop duo exchanged glances, but it wasn't as if I couldn't read it. They had nothing on me, per usual. But for the fifth time in three months, I had been dragged downtown for a little tete-a-tete with an old fuck and his pretty new sidekick that reminded me way too much of a good church-going virgin wishing she was Madonna on the inside.

  Rising from my seat, I gave my shoulders a good flex before moving for the door, grateful for the sound of my heels on the stained concrete. "Little girl, next time, take a page from the shows on television, and bring in a suspect you can pin down with evidence. Not prejudice."

  My hand had gripped the handle when she opened her mouth again. "You didn't answer my question."

  I let out an infuriating sigh. Of course she was going to go back to that. All the newbies did. They all wanted to know the mystery behind my little existence. How a succubus-vampire hybrid could exist when it was proven scientifically that cross-
breeding was impossible. By the books, I wasn't supposed to exist. In the realm of the dark and creepy, you were one species, or you interbred with mortals to keep things thriving.

  Yet here I was, sucking up air, swallowing souls like it was candy and loving every fucking minute of it. Funny, how even in the supernatural realm science could be defied with a passing glance.

  I decided to humor the little fledgling. Turning around, I planted both hands on my hips, raising one delicate eyebrow. "Which question would that be?"

  She wasted no time going for gold. "How are you alive?" Eliza asked again, frowning. "It's rare enough to become a vampire. It's rarer to be a succubus. But you're the only half succubus, half vampire known in existence. How?"

  If she wanted the truth, I couldn't give her it. My existence was just as befuddling to myself as it was everyone else, maybe more. I carried the magnetic charm and allure of a succubus on full power at all times. I could pop out fangs like a bloodsucker and drain anything with blood in under seven seconds. I was fast, graceful, intelligent. Some would say I was outright perfect.

  I would call myself a monster. A monster with no memory of how I came to be.

  And I fucking loved it.

  TWO SECONDS PASSED BEFORE it became glaringly obvious the little fledgling blondie wasn’t going to let her question die like the rest of her did when she turned.

  "You're asking questions no one can answer, fledgling." I twisted the handle open, letting it click back before stepping over the threshold. "Some things are better left unanswered."

  The door closed behind me with a satisfying click. If it was okay with everyone else, I had enough with being their little scapegoat for the day. I had souls to feed on, parties to crash, and of course I had a bed to break in. There was always a bed to break in somewhere.

  Flicking the sunglasses back onto my head, I had made it out of the precinct and into the parking lot before I heard him calling for me. The catch of his voice brought up delicious memories, ones of his breath on my soaking skin, of his hands touching me in places that left me breathless. Oh, Sam, when was he going to learn?