Dark Temptations

by Penelope Harlow

  "But it's possible." I nudged the animal again, the smell of its decomposing, rotten flesh permeating the air. "The person who raised this, may have made me." Which meant only one, very inconvenient, remaining connection to speak out loud. "Which means, this guy we just captured, may hold information on my past. The memories I can't uncover, because some asshole with a laboratory wanted to play doctor on me and make me even more of a monster than the rest of you."

  "Stop." Sam reached out and touched me, gently wrapping his hand around my upper arm. His cold skin matched mine, but if I concentrated hard enough, I could imagine warmth shared between us. "You're not a monster, and whoever fucked with you is going to pay for it. You've got one thing right, we've got a lead on your case now. It all comes down to this idiot at our feet."

  I continued to stare at the dog, until the smell of its flesh was too much to bear. Stepping back, I waved my hand in front of my face, coughing. "We should go," I said, covering my mouth and nose. "Before I dry heave in the bushes for the next hour."

  Sam picked up the body from the ground, slinging it over his shoulder and making for the car. He never said a word to me about how I was behaving so abnormal, and I was glad. I wasn't the type to go scared or soft. Yet in that moment, I felt nothing but a chilled sensation of fear cooling me from the inside out, a thundering panic at that made me think for one awkward moment that I was mortal and vulnerable again.

  My heels clicked on the pavement as I slowly caught up to Sam and his slopped stride. But before I did, I made sure to fire two more rounds into the mutated animal at my feet. And for a little bonus, I set the tail on fire with a little heel-friction. Not that I didn't trust the Paranormal Agency to clean up our little nightmare, but I wanted to feel victorious in this fight. I lived. The thing hunting me died.

  Now, I just wanted to go the fuck home and order in some hot Australian male ass.

  I had waited, patiently mind you, for the moment to step back in that station all fucking day. An entire day of being stuck in that safehouse, knowing the person who had fucked my life twenty ways I wasn't interested in was in a holding cell waiting for us, had nearly driven me fucking batty.

  Finishing the third female off with an inhale, I heard Sam awake from his place in the bedroom just as her body dropped to the floor. The blonde had been pretty, superficially anyway. She had one hell of a mouth that probably made men hard in their sleep, but beyond that she had been useless. But that was my view of all mortals; useless except for their bodies. Their minds were flimsy at best, dangerous at worst.

  Stepping out in his pressed pants and white button up carefully done and tucked in, Sam looked like a model detective for the first time since I had the unfortunate taste of running into him a week ago.

  "About fucking time," I said, hands on my hips. I stepped on the blonde's implant-enhanced chest as I crossed the room, closing the distance between us. "Let's get the hell out of here before I interrogate you the way I want to interrogate the bastard at the station."

  He grabbed my bags and packed everything into the car as I continued to wait, impatiently ticking off the seconds that remained of the night. The scent of lavender and salt water filled the air, sharp and yet oddly enticing.

  Driving down the highway, Sam waited until we were halfway there to start talking to me. "You waited for me?"

  "Did you not hear me back at the safehouse? Yes. I fucking waited for you. And it was the biggest waste of my time." I picked at a nail, turned to face my window. "We might be immortal, but you purebloods sure know how to waste half a fucking day in the name of sleep."

  "It's not by choice."

  "But there's an easy way to fix it," I said. "Drink one of those coffee addicts dry, you'll bypass sleep for days."

  He laughed. "It doesn't work that way. You of all people should know that."

  "Just because I am a self-proclaimed know-it-all doesn't mean I actually know it all." I preened. "Besides, what happens to my body is greatly different from yours. I don't need blood to stay sane and alive."

  Another chuckle, deep and throaty, and Sam seemed to relax against the shredded leather of the driver's side. "Caroline Gray, admitting she doesn't know everything after all. How the cards have turned so fast."

  "Get used to it, pretty boy." The teasing glance in my eyes had him practically swerving off the highway. "You should know by now, nothing about me is constant, and every thing I say is a complete lie."

  "Everything?" He repeated, shooting me a glance as we pulled into the parking lot of the station. Cars of all makes and models filled the lot in a crunch of metal and cheap paint jobs. It looked like a ghetto's paradise to strip off parts and pieces for black market prices.

  I stepped out of the car, shutting the door with a tap of my heel. "Every little thing." Sam was standing at the end of the car, hip pressed against the hatch to the trunk as if bored with my little confession. I threw him an insulted pout. "You should be glad I never speak the truth like some virginal priestess aching to achieve enlightenment."

  "Really." He shook his head, arms folded across his chest. "Dare I ask why?"

  "I almost didn't show on my wedding day."

  The breeze between us acted like a barrier, buffering the lack of words. So he was just as foolish as the rest of them. He had fallen into my clutches like the crazed ex-lover I had escorted out of the fashion building a few days ago. I had always counted on Sam for the last few years, knowing he wouldn't buckle or bend to my will. He was different, he was supposed to be fucking different. He was supposed to prove that you didn't need to get hooked on someone to feel okay. And he broke it. Shattered it like a fine glass of wine, or a crystal heel fresh off the runway.

  "It's good you didn't." I said, studying him out of the corners of my eyes. I didn't get why I was being soft, why I wasn't firing into him with all the backhanded words that worked on my tongue. Knowing I had to be a bitch, I drilled myself into being rotten, embracing the bitter tasted that lingered in my mouth. "You'll only find one person stupid enough to be stuck to you for eternity."

  His laugh was hard. "Always sweet as pie. Sweet, sweet Caroline."

  "Fuck you," I spat, turning to walk away. The breeze slapped at my face, just like how I wanted to slap Sam across his. It wasn't fair that I was like this around him, that he was like this around me. It wasn't who I was. It wasn't what made me the monster I was. I was cold, heartless, inconsiderate of others. And yet here I was, considering his emotions. Considering the idea of if he had never gotten married, if he had came to me that night in my apartment...

  No. Fuck this. What was done was done, there was no changing that. The past couldn't be rewritten. And I wasn't the kind to entertain fantasies of alternate realities. With my luck, I'd be some domestic housewife, barefoot and pregnant, in the alternate realm.

  "Are you going to hunt them?" I asked, changing subjects. The need to focus on something solid overwhelmed me. "Arrest them, kill them?"

  "I have to," he said. "It's my job. Someone has to pay for those murders."

  "Not to mention my drapes." I muttered, pursing my lips. "Bastards will get me a new pair or so help me, your department will pay for it."

  "You can't bill the police, Caroline."

  "Darling, have you learned nothing about me?" I fluttered my eyelashes, smiling cat-like. "I always get what I want, when I want it, and how I want it."

  "Did you want me?"

  Fuck. Just like that, Sam whipped the topic back to the end of the pool I didn't want to wade in.

  "Coulson, are you looking for a fucking deathwish?" I lashed out, seething. "Because if you keep it up with these stupid questions, the only thing I'm going to want is you in a pile of ash, scattered in the ocean, far away from me and my bedroom." The little shit should consider himself lucky I had even taken him to bed, not just once. Most were lucky to have me if at all. Sam could count on his hands the times we had fucked, all the way past his finger holding the wedding band that promised him to someone else
entirely.

  He laughed, the sound rich and vibrant. It died after a moment, turning to the bittersweet seriousness I adored.

  "You could help me, Caroline."

  "With killing you?" I asked, arching a brow. "I mean yeah, sure, I could, but wouldn't you rather it be quick and painless? Single stake to the heart? Or do you mean killing your wife?" I was down for that, too. In fact, I may have liked that idea a little too much. The only downside was trying to cover those tracks. I couldn't say it was a feeding, with her being a vampire and all. You know, soulless.

  "I mean with the case," he added, shaking his head as he fought the smile on his lips. "You could help me with the case."

  I stood there, silent. The offer was tempting, more than it ever had been. Chasing after this could help discover what, or who, made me. It would explain every piece of my puzzle, finally revealing what allowed me to live while other attempted hybrids died or mutated into beasts that had to be put down like rabid animals. It could open doors I never knew were shut.

  But it went against everything I had in place. The rules I had established the night I learned just how deeply fucked I was as a hybrid. And it sure as hell would cramp my luxurious lifestyle. The fashion industry waited for no one, and as much as I hated to admit it, myself was included in that equation. Which meant no more runway gowns and cocktail dresses, no more custom designed slutty lingerie that made even myself a little hot and bothered looking it over. No more gem-encrusted heels, or other unique pieces offered to their favorite muse.

  "I thought I made myself clear the other week," I said at last, twisting the words until they sounded as annoyed as possible. "Office attire isn't my thing. Neither is paperwork and a solitary social life."

  Sam came closer, taking my hands into his own. Under the ugly fluorescent lights outside the station, he looked almost mortal, the bulb tinting his skin a shade of yellow. His hair moved with the wind, the scent of sandalwood and pine trees swallowing my senses. I thought above how the smell overpowered everything when he was hot under my hands, when his skin dripped with the water of the small shower. How my hands had touched him everywhere, memorizing the twists and ridges that made up his hardened body.

  "When I asked you if your memories had returned, I wasn't asking for me," he started off, frowning. His eyes roamed over my face, refusing to steady on my eyes. "I was asking because all I have thought about for the last few years is how lost you must feel. You don't know how old you are, where you're from, why you were dumped like that on the side of the highway. You were a blank canvas, one that someone smeared red paint all over and abandoned because it wasn't the right shade of red."

  The words would have never hurt, had I not let them. I was better than this, I was bigger than this. Words couldn't hurt me, bites from hellhounds couldn't hurt me, crazy vampires trying to bite off my neck couldn't hurt me. But Sam's words acted like a blessed bullet to the brain, searing me with pain in ways that burned through physical aches and right to my emotional core I kept covered and cold.

  Because above all, he knew. He knew what I was, what came with me. He had seen me shred his partner to bits, had watched me sensually seduce my way through anything, had felt me fuck him blindfolded. There was no need to keep a face on in front of Sam, not that I ever would have. I loved who I was, I wasn't ashamed of the things I did or why I did them. I was, however, burned by a past that didn't want to release me. The first time had been the night I woke up, no memory of who or what I was. The second time had been here and now.

  I was getting tired of these games. I didn't want to play the neverending chase of what made me tick, of what made me the fucked up temptress that lured married men to their graves. I wanted to go the fuck home, call in an escort party a dozen deep, and drain them all before sleeping while their corpses covered the floors of my house like fine shag rugs.

  "I may not have been the right shade of red for the asshole that left me, but when the fuck did I ever care about what someone else thought?" The words were liberating, shedding the anxiety that permeated my insides. "If I were to ever care about what anyone thought of me, it would be Tom Hiddleston. And I have a feeling he wouldn't object one bit when I'd take him to my bed."

  And just like that, the dynamic in the air changed. Sam released my hands, the uncertainty and sadness clear in his eyes, but I didn't care. Yes, I was a curious being. I wanted to know what made me, well, me. But I wasn't invested in it. Not yet. When I was ready, when I really wanted it, I knew where to find Sam. Or easier yet, I'd start the hunt myself. Who knew how long it would take for the police to find information I could with a few internet searches and a tank of gas.

  Sam ran a hand through his soft locks, gliding over the stubble on his jaw. "Then I guess, this is goodbye."

  Now that got me to laugh. "We're immortal. Do we ever get to truly say goodbye?"

  "No, not really." He smiled slightly. "But I can safely assume you won't come knocking on my door for a night on the town, or coffee at the shop around the block."

  "As if." I swung the tail end of my ponytail over my shoulder. Still fishing for the chance to see me again, still weak. Just like all the others. "I have a life, Detective. I'm afraid you'll just have to go home to your trophy wife and entertain yourself with her."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right."

  "Although, I do feel bad for you." I pouted slightly. "After all, you'll never have another night like the one we shared. Not with that little fragile breadstick." I snickered. "Don't dip her too hard in your sauce, you'll break her in half."

  "Caroline," he warned.

  "What?" I shrugged. "You know me. No filter. Love it or leave me the fuck alone."

  He nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. "If you insist." Turning around, he made back for the station, never turning back to so much as glance in my direction. I watched him walk inside, the heavy metal door slamming shut, leaving me alone in the parking lot. And just like that, Sam Coulson was out of my life once more. It was funny, how quickly he swung into it, barreling like a tornado through my cozy little life and turning it all upside down. All because some fucking whackadoo with an axe to grind wanted to have their pet chew on me like a new toy.

  Slipping into my precious porsche, I drove with ease out of the lot and onto the highway. My phone never rang the entire way home, and there wasn't a single message on my home line when I checked shortly after. You'd think I may have been upset, but I was relieved.

  So this was goodbye. For now.

  At least, until the next time Mistress 13 left a calling card.

  It started with a card and a name.

  MISTRESS 13.

  An organization that says they know who made me.

  A collection of hybrids, all wanting to kill me.

  Hell no.

  My name is Caroline Gray.

  And this succu-bitch belongs to no one.

  DARK SEDUCTIONS TEASER

  COMING 2015 TO YOUR KINDLE

  He grimaced through his teeth as I dug deeper, hissing. Liar, fucking liar. I pulled him him off the wall for a split second, only to slam him back against the rock hard enough to crack.

  "Let's get one thing straight," I whipped the words at him like I was flogging his bare skin. The thought alone painted an intoxicating picture. "That animal of yours will never stay buried. Demons like that simply do not vanish with time. They do not stay buried in your little Pandora's Box, they don't keep quiet when you silence them with muzzles and chloroform. They wait, Samuel Coulson. Wait for the perfect moment to rip from your body like a wolf-born babe, claws shredding any barriers and methods protection you have in place." Teeth bared, I let the monster within surface in my features, darkness changing the color of my eyes to straight black, teeth elongating until I can barely speak. "You cannot change an animal. You cannot hide from a demon. Embrace the fucking darkness, Sam, or the darkness will take you completely when the time is right."

  "I am not an animal," he roared, jerking agains
t my grasp. My fingers dug deeper, touching bone in his arm. "I am not you."

  Not me?

  Of course he wasn't me. There was only one of me in this world, and there would only ever be one of me. I was a fluke, a fuck-up with a side of apocalypse for breakfast, too much salt on the slug that still tried to go on like the skin wasn't melting off my body. An experiment gone wrong in the best of ways.

  Very slowly, I pulled my nails from Sam's arms. Black, tar-like liquid covered the tips of my fingers, staining my perfect skin. I could already hear the manicurist now, prattling off in Korean that I was a stupid bitch for playing in dirt like a toddler.

  Sam didn't move from the wall, didn't so much as shift a hair from his frozen stance. Only his eyes betrayed the fear and lust that mingled behind his sharp colors, tempting me to grab him again. Taunting me to fuck him until the wall crumbled beneath his ass, until he'd growl my name so loud his wife would hear it across the globe.

  "I am not you," he repeated at last, breaking the silence. "And I never will be. There is nothing about you, about that animal within, that I want part of."

  Ah, caught in his little lie like a baby fly. I smiled, feeling the monster slink back into my skin. My fingers trailed along his jaw, smearing some of his blood like ink on a piece of fresh paper.

  "You're right on one thing. You will never be me, and I'm glad for that." I noted with an air of absentmindedness. My eyes slowly worked their way past his healing marks on his arms, resting on his lips. "But let's make one thing clear. You like that animal, Sam. Crave it, even. You won't admit it today, and that's okay. But some day, very soon, you will give into the darkness of your own little monster, your starved animal. And when you do," I gripped his chin, jerking his eyes to lock with mine. "I will be ready to play. All. Night. Long."