Obsessed with the Vampire: A Paranormal Romance (Vampire Enforcement Agency Book 2)

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Obsessed with the Vampire: A Paranormal Romance (Vampire Enforcement Agency Book 2) Page 16

by Kellie McAllen


  It was a total madhouse. Music blaring, a disco ball flashing sparkles of light around the otherwise dark room, people running around and yelling, their figures distorted by clouds of smoke pumping from the fog machine. The air smelled like alcohol, fear, and blood. A vampire had a woman pinned to the bar and was sucking on her neck for the whole place to see.

  Roric immediately grabbed the vamp by the hair and yanked him off the woman. The guy obviously wasn’t the only rogue there, so Roric didn’t take time to ask questions. He grabbed a stake from his holster and rammed it into the vamp’s chest with a sickening thud, immobilizing him. Then he handcuffed him to the railing that circled the bar.

  He yanked his stake out and went looking for the next offender. He caught two more vampires sucking on humans, taking them down with his stake and keeping them down by riddling their bodies with silver bullets. The sound tore through the ruckus, sending more people scurrying.

  The other agents descended on the bar, and it didn’t take long before the place was cleared out. The only people remaining were his agents, the vampires they’d captured, and a few victims who’d been venomized but hadn’t completed the change. The place looked like a battlefield, with bodies littering the cement floors.

  It still didn’t make sense that the rogues had attacked one of the few bars that didn’t have a team on hand. That had to be more than a coincidence. Someone who knew where the agents were going to be had alerted the group of rogues. But who?

  All the agents who’d heard the plan were present, so Roric called them all over to where he was standing, next to the bar. “I want everyone to pull their phone out and hold it up where I can see it right now.”

  The agents gave him weird looks and started grumbling, but Roric silenced them all with a yell. “Enough! We have a mole in our group, and I intend to find out who it is.”

  He watched as each of them pulled their cellphones out and held them up. One by one, he took the phones, demanded the passcodes, then checked the recent calls. Only a few of them had made calls since the briefing at the beginning of the shift, and none of them looked suspicious. Of course, they could have easily deleted the call, but would they have felt the need?

  Roric didn’t want to suspect any of his agents. He knew them all well and trusted them. But who else could it be? The only other person who knew where his agents were going to be was Raven, but it didn’t make any sense for her to be the mole. She wasn’t in town when the first incident happened, for one thing.

  Roric had agents haul everyone who’d been bitten to the clinic, and he and a few other agents transported the vampires who’d been caught drinking to the agency to be detained. He knew there were probably several more vampires who’d escaped, but at least they’d caught a lot of them. Now he just had to figure out what to do with all of them. He had half a mind to ash them all. For the time being, he locked them up.

  The scent of fresh coffee wafted from the briefing room, taunting him. Roric followed it like a dog on a trail. Thank God Serena kept that pot hot and ready at all times. He desperately needed a hit.

  As soon as the thought crossed his mind, an image flashed in his brain. Serena was in the briefing room making coffee when he assigned the agents to the different clubs. In fact, Serena knew everything that happened in the Agency. Could she be passing along information to someone?

  She was an unlikely candidate, but no more so than one of his trusted agents. He was going to have to investigate her, too, but checking her cell phone wouldn’t do much good. She could’ve easily called someone from the Agency phone.

  No, he was going to have to come up with a sting operation to catch whoever it was in the act. But he didn’t have the mental energy for that tonight. He glanced at the clock and couldn’t believe it was barely after 10. He felt like he’d been working for a dozen hours already.

  Suddenly, he remembered Caroline’s meeting, and fear coursed through his body like ice water. It might still be going on! He had to get over there and check on her. He grabbed his coffee and gulped half of it down then raced towards the door, his adrenaline kicking in again.

  Chapter 22

  Roric peeled into Caroline’s apartment complex for the second time that night, his wheels spraying gravel. He prayed he wasn’t too late. Gruesome images flashed across his mind as he imagined what all might have happened to her, interspersed with bloody, violent memories of tonight’s attack. The pitch-black night with just the tiniest sliver of pale moonlight only added to his anxiety, its deep shadows hiding untold dangers.

  He leapt from his car and dashed up to her apartment then flung open the door, not bothering to knock. He stood in the doorway, the sound of his pounding heart and heavy breathing blocking out all other noise, and stared at the empty room. Her thrift store couch, her father’s grungy recliner, her scratched coffee table — everything looked normal. His eyes quickly scanned every inch, looking for signs of a struggle, but there was none. Caroline’s living room looked like it always did. But it smelled like vampire. Lots of them.

  “Roric?” Suddenly, Caroline’s face appeared as she rounded the corner from the kitchen. She was whole; she was well. Her beautiful face wasn’t ravaged like he’d imagined, her neck wasn’t torn open.

  He ran to her, grabbing her up in his arms, lifting her off her feet, pressing her softness against his hard body. She felt so small, so fragile. He was probably holding her too tight, but his arms were locked around her like a vise. His body shook as the adrenaline coursed out of him. He buried his face in her hair and sucked in deep lungfuls of her scent, the smell of her pulsing blood strong evidence that she was alive, and her sweet perfume taunting him with desire.

  Eventually, he loosened his grip and let her body slide down his till her feet were on the ground again. He ran his hands over her silky hair, her delicate face, her long, thin neck, and her narrow shoulders as he stared at her, examining her for any sign of injury. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I’m fine. What are you talking about?” She straightened her blouse and smoothed her hair, pushing it back from her face. Her cheeks were as pink as her blouse, and her eyes looked anxious, guilty.

  He couldn’t help it. Now that his worries had been relieved, his anger took over. He dug his fingers into her shoulders. “Raven showed me a flyer today advertising a meeting for new vampires. Here. Tonight. What the hell were you thinking, Caroline?”

  “I told you I wanted to start a support group.” She turned and headed back towards the kitchen, flicking her hair.

  He stomped after her, grabbing her arm. “And I told you no!”

  She looked down at his hand then whirled around and shoved a finger in his chest, her face twisted in a snarl. “And I told you that you weren’t the boss of me.”

  He let go of her arm and threw his hands up in the air. “I’m not trying to boss you around, I’m trying to protect you! Do you realize how stupid this was? You invited new vampires into your home without anyone here to protect you. You had no idea who might show up! They could’ve turned on you and attacked. New vampires are dangerous and out of control. You know that! You should’ve at least told me so I could be here!”

  A niggling guilt dug into his brain like a thorn. She hadn’t told him, but he found out early enough he could’ve been here. But he’d gone to the club to try to thwart the attack, instead. What did that say about him? Was he really upset because she’d been in danger or because she didn’t do what he said?

  “I did try to tell you, and you wouldn’t listen because you think you’re always right. You treat me like I’m some pathetic, helpless, stupid child. Well, I’m not a child, Roric. I’m a strong, independent, intelligent adult. And you’re not in charge of me. I can make my own decisions.”

  Her words hit him like a slap to the face. She’d argued with him before, but she’d never talked to him like that. But he was angry, too. If he treated her like a child, it was because she was acting like one — going
behind his back and doing reckless things.

  She stomped off again, into the kitchen, and he followed her. She glanced at the food on the counter then yanked open a drawer and pulled out a roll of plastic wrap. Her hands shook as she tried to unroll a length of it.

  “All I’m trying to do is protect you, but you make it impossible when you refuse to listen to reason! This decision you made was stupid and dangerous!” He wished he could wrap her in plastic wrap to keep her safe and protected.

  “No it wasn’t! Nothing bad happened. We had a great meeting. The people were friendly. They shared their stories and connected with each other, and they’re all looking forward to the next meeting. Which I intend to have.” She wrapped the plastic wrap around a tray of vegetables then shoved it in the refrigerator like she was saving it for the next meeting.

  Every synapse in his brain fired out a distress signal at the thought of her doing this again. “Just because nothing bad happened doesn’t mean it couldn’t have or won’t next time. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “I do understand! I know there are risks, but I’m willing to take them. Just like you take risks every day at the Agency. I don’t freak out about that.” She whirled back around and grabbed a box of crackers. Then she opened up the cupboard between them and stuck it in.

  Roric slammed the cupboard door shut with a bang. “That’s different, and you know it.”

  “Why? Because I’m a woman? Because I’m not getting paid for it?” She propped her hands on her hips, emphasizing her tiny waist and her thin arms. He was tempted to say yes, but he knew that wouldn’t go over well.

  “Why does it need to be you? Why can’t you let someone else do it? This is exactly the kind of thing we hired Raven to do.”

  She crushed a soda can with a growl and hurled it across the room, over his shoulder. He ducked, and it clattered into the recycling bin. “Argh! Why is it okay for Raven to do this kind of thing but not me? Do you really think I’m that incompetent? What do you want me to do, Roric? Just sit around, locked in the house, doing nothing all day, waiting for you to come home? I want to help these people. They need this, and I need it, too.”

  That was exactly what he wanted her to do, and he suddenly realized it was the same thing his father wanted for his mother. His father had been so afraid of losing his wife that he’d essentially locked her up and driven her to take her own life. And Roric was trying to do the same thing to Caroline.

  She stopped fussing with the food and turned to face him, her body stiff, her voice terse.

  “Look, Roric. I don’t think this is working out. We don’t belong together; I think we can both see that. You don’t want me for a partner, you just feel responsible for me. Well, I’m releasing you from that obligation. You don’t have to worry about me anymore; I can take care of myself. I don’t need or want you hovering over me for the rest of eternity, trying to control every aspect of my life.”

  She turned her back on him as soon as she was done speaking and her hands fluttered around the leftover food.

  Her words hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. His body slumped around it. He stood there for a long moment, watching her, trying to process what she’d said. She didn’t need him? She didn’t want him? His mind automatically added the one thing she hadn’t said but obviously meant — she didn’t love him.

  “Are you… breaking up with me?”

  She flicked her eyes back towards him for one quick moment. Was it his imagination that they shimmered with unshed tears? “Yes, I am.”

  “What? No! You can’t do that!” he roared, grabbing an unopened bag of chips and squeezing it till it popped. Chip fragments exploded around him.

  She barked out a laugh. “Do you hear yourself, Roric? Even now, you’re trying to tell me what I can and can’t do. Well, you don’t get to decide this; I do. And I say I’m done.”

  She said it with such finality, such lack of emotion. Then she turned away and busied herself putting cookies in a plastic bag like she hadn’t just stuck a dagger in his heart. He stumbled backward, clutching the invisible wound she’d gouged in his chest.

  This was all his fault. He’d turned her against her will, forced her into his world, took over her life, tried to control her every move, disrespected her, gotten angry with her when she didn’t obey him, yelled at her. He’d done it all out of a need for control disguised as love. It couldn’t be real love. People who loved each other didn’t act like he did.

  Maybe it was better that they broke it off now before they got any deeper. He sure as hell didn’t want to end up with a mate who resented him and ended up killing herself to get away from him.

  He slowly backed out of the kitchen and into the living room, potato chips crunching under his feet, waiting for Caroline to turn around and take it all back, but she kept working like she’d already forgotten he was there.

  His eyes caught on a hat lying on an end table in the living room. An Astros baseball cap. He knew instantly who it belonged to. Houston. He’d been here. Did he come for her meeting, or some other time?

  Jealousy swelled up inside him like an overflowing bilge tank, leaving a foul taste in the back of his throat. How many times had he been here? How many times had she fed him? Had she drank from him, too? Maybe there was another reason she didn’t want to be with Roric besides his controlling personality. Maybe she wanted someone else, instead.

  He yanked open the door then slammed it closed behind him, rattling the frame, then stomped to his cruiser. He turned his lights and siren on so he could drive fast without having to stop for anyone. The harsh wail drowned out his guttural howls.

  When he got home, he grabbed a couple blood bags from the fridge and slammed it closed then opened it again and thew a dozen more in a bowl. He wasn’t going to be drinking from anyone anytime soon, maybe not ever again. He might as well stock the fridge in his suite.

  He thudded up the stairs, his boots pounding into the wood hard enough to splinter it if it wasn’t reinforced to survive the abuse of a family of vampires. He kicked open the door to his bedroom and shoved the bowl of blood bags in his fridge, grabbing a few to satisfy the need roaring in his belly.

  He dropped his holster on the dresser, kicked off his boots, then stripped out of his clothes and threw himself onto his bed. It still smelled like Caroline. He rolled over and buried his face in her pillow, suffocating himself in her scent. With one deep sob, he yanked his face up, grabbed her pillow, and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and split open, sending up a cloud of feathers.

  Her scent still enveloped him, though. He jumped up and tore off the sheets, wadding them up and throwing them into the corner with the pillow. Then he sprawled out on the bare mattress and tore open a blood bag.

  It was too cold, too thick, and it didn’t taste anything like Caroline. He sucked it dry anyway, trying to rid himself of the memory of her blood, but it didn’t satisfy his craving one bit. He bit into the second one and poured it down his throat without tasting it, just trying to ease the ache in his belly.

  When both bags were empty, he tossed them on the floor and flung his arm over his face, hoping sleep would claim him and take his mind off of her. But voices and laughter kept interrupting the quiet. After several long minutes, he slammed his fist against the wall in a staccato rhythm and bellowed out, “Shut the hell up! I’m trying to sleep!”

  Goddamn Taven. Roric couldn’t believe his commitment-phobe, playboy brother had a serious relationship now, and he’d just been dumped.

  Taven and Ivy giggled and thumped around some more then settled down a little, but Roric could still hear them making love.

  He’d thought that was what he and Caroline had been doing, but obviously he was wrong. It was nothing more than blood-induced lust. Once Caroline realized she could have that same experience with someone else, she decided she didn’t need Roric anymore.

  Maybe that was what he needed to do — find someone else to make him forget about Carolin
e. He’d never drank from anyone before her, so of course he was too attached to her. Maybe he should be more like Taven used to be, sucking on whoever he could find. A quick dose of pleasure with no commitments and no heartache.

  Maybe he should call Serena, see if she wanted to go out with him again. He could pump her for info to see if she was the mole and satisfy his needs at the same time. He focused his thoughts on her image — her soft, round breasts bulging out of those tight sweaters she liked to wear, her long, wavy hair dangling at her nipples, her full lips opening for him. But every time he leaned in to drink from her, she turned into Caroline.

  Chapter 23

  Caroline switched off the news with a sigh. She didn’t know why she was torturing herself by watching it. She’d already seen the story a dozen times. It had played on the morning news, and then she’d looked it up online and watched it over and over again. It was the first sight of Roric she’d had all week. She was tempted to dig up the footage from his last news conference, the one where he’d introduced Raven, but listening to him extol her virtues hurt too much.

  Roric praised Raven in today’s story, too, but the story was less about her and more about her plan for a school to train all the new vampires. Caroline thought it was a great idea, even if it was Raven’s. But that wasn’t why she kept watching the video.

  She didn’t know why she was pining over Roric. Just that fact that she hadn’t heard from him since the night she broke up with him told her how he felt. She’d hit the nail on the head when she’d said he was only with her because he felt responsible for her. If he’d really loved her, he would’ve fought for her.

  Sure, he’d argued a little bit, but that was only because she’d broke up with him, taking the control away from him. Once he realized he couldn’t force her to be with him, he’d walked away.

 

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