by Mary Hughes
I raked my hair, as if I could pull the dark thoughts out. I’d just have to hope the meeting didn’t get out of hand.
Aiden rose from the soil in Settler’s Square feeling fully refreshed, ready for anything. He rarely slept covered but was glad he had today; he wanted maximum reserves for whatever new trap he was sure Eloise had planned.
After searching the park and finding nothing to explain the vampire woman’s behavior, he found himself drifting over the river toward the MCPD. There, he breathed air filled with sunshine, the light womanly scent that was uniquely Sunny. He could almost hear the ring of her soles percussing the pavement; he could picture her straight shoulders and tiny waist obscured by the heavy jacket that refused to stay tugged down, her trim behind all too defined by the cut of her slacks…pain lashed his groin. He glanced down, confused, and saw he was bent double in his pants.
He cursed himself for ten kinds a fool. His infatuation was getting worse. Yet here he was on her doorstep, panting to see her again, which might turn infatuation into something deeper. Although from the warmth in his blood and the lightness in his step, it might already be too late.
He dug claws into his palms. Focus. Eloise. The female had used Sunny as bait—which had worked so brilliantly she’d almost certainly try it again.
His heart stopped. He had to know that Sunny was okay, now. He misted inside. Her smell beckoned from the second floor. He misted directly there and reformed.
Just as she slipped out the door from the detectives’ pen.
He merged automatically with a shadow—and stared, because she was bending to check the gun in her ankle holster. The action snugged the ill-fitting wool pants nicely against her rounded bottom. His gums ached at the sight. Brushing a tongue to one fang made him aware of just how long they were. He shuddered.
She straightened. Pulled a pair of handcuffs from her belt.
A harder, delicious shudder wracked him. Oh, what he could do with those cuffs if she were willing.
Then he saw the button and indicator light. The cuffs were electrified. Antivamp.
Surprise jolted him. She had antivampire handcuffs? He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or proud.
But it decided him. She’d gotten between him and Eloise twice, and had almost been hurt. Sunny was not going vampire hunting, not on his watch.
Well, unless the vampire she was hunting was him.
She tucked the restraints in a belt pouch and straightened. She looked so adorably determined. He found himself smiling.
She trotted off, headed for the stairs.
He ghosted after her, curious. On the first floor she turned right and turned again. Tucked in the back was a crime lab.
“Hey Charlie,” she said to the tech. “Get anything from my phone?”
“Not much.” The silver-haired, bearded man separated a cell phone from a piece of paper that looked like a work order or lab report. “Elle Louis Smith’s message came from a burner phone. I’m checking the web for a footprint—message copy on a server, for example—but I don’t expect much. Whoever sent it was cautious.”
Aiden’s smile faded. Elle Louise? He used his supernatural sight to zoom in on the report. Saw 9 p.m. tonight. Gazebo Fifth & Lincoln.
His smile disappeared entirely, replaced by death. Not Elle Louise, Eloise. Sunny was not meeting her, not if he could help it. He couldn’t live with himself if the vampire injured Sunny.
But how to stop his stubborn cop? It had to be subtle.
The tech handed Sunny the phone and she marched out.
Aiden recognized that determined clomp. He had to stop her, now. So much for subtlety. He was sorry, but he had a job to do.
He misted past her to the infirmary. The door had been fixed. Yes. He positioned himself just inside the door and called, “Help me!”
“I’m coming.” Sunny ran in, stopped in the middle of the room and whirled. “What’s wrong—?”
He slammed the door and locked it.
Chapter Thirteen
“Blackthorne.” She stalked toward him, eyes narrowing.
She recovered quickly, as good as any he’d seen. She was so serious, stalking him, he almost forgot to be wary. His heart swelled with lov…with pride.
Her hand went behind her back.
Going for her cuffs. He relaxed into a ready stance. As she slid into him, she pulled out the cuffs without a single tell. Oh, she really was quite good.
He was better, though, two hundred years of practice to her twenty. Peripheral vision and his vampire speed let him snatch her wrist well before she could cuff him.
She flicked her hand and locked one cuff on his seizing wrist instead.
Delight bubbled through him. “Nicely done.”
“You’re smiling.” She gazed up into his face. “You have a gorgeous smile.” Her eyes were big pools of glossy black, haloed by thin coronas of melted chocolate brown.
Warmth bloomed inside him, nothing he’d name but filled with sunshine and light. He stood there like a goober basking in the feeling, forgetting totally that she’d gotten a cuff on him and had only to activate it to stop him from misting. Although even without mist there were at least four ways he could think to escape.
It never got that far. His extensive training made reaction automatic. Before she could activate the cuffs, he blew his body apart and reformed sitting in the armless examination chair.
She adjusted to face him. The cuffs dangled from her hand. “Damn. How do you do that?”
“Practice.”
She nodded. He could see her file it away in that quick brain of hers. She casually unlocked the cuff that had been around his wrist. “Can you mist again right away, or do you have to wait between?”
“There’s a wait—”
She jumped him.
He barely managed to rise in time to stop her. He was careful to offer humans a measured response, but she was pushing him to his limits; no half-measures anymore, not for her. He wrapped, not a hand around her wrist, but his arms around her body, like a big straitjacket.
She grunted and wriggled against him, and oh, did that feel nice. She didn’t shriek or cry pax or any of the things he might have expected.
Instead she stomped her thick-soled toes on his. Vampire bone was too dense for her to break, even with her lead weight shoes, but it hurt. While he sucked in air and shielded mentally against the pain, she dug her toes in and launched herself up in his grasp.
Her skull rammed into his jaw.
He had to release her quickly to keep her from hurting herself, misting backward through the chair, reforming sprawled behind it.
She climbed onto the chair and reached for him cuffs-first, nearly toppling the chair.
He kipped up, grabbed the chair with one hand and the cuffs with the other and wrenched the restraints from her. She was small but strong.
“Hey.” She grabbed for them, overbalanced, and tumbled into his arms.
He didn’t think, just acted. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.
She melted. She was so perfect against him, a warm bundle in his arms, her mouth opening against his, her muscles yielding.
Images lit his brain, her cuffed to the chair, him spreading her thighs and tasting every delectable bit.
Excitement hit low and hard.
He was instantly ashamed of himself. Using sex, not for mutual pleasure, but to take advantage of her? He couldn’t do that, not to anybody and especially not to her.
But the cuffs, the chair…he could restrain her, and hope it’d take her fifteen minutes to get free. Barely enough time to deal with Eloise, but it’d have to do.
Still kissing Sunny, he lifted her and settled her into the chair. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. He slid his palms along her wool-covered forearms to circle her wrists with his fingers. Gently he pushed her hands bac
k and down, her arms bending easily, until her fingers met behind the back of the chair.
He locked the cuffs around her wrists.
“Hey.” She broke the kiss and tried to pull her hands forward. When she realized what he’d done, she glared black death at him.
Even her death stare was cute. He knew better than to smile.
There was a way for her to get free, but with her arms snug around the chair back she couldn’t just pull. She’d have to hunch forward, get her feet under her, stand with the chair on her back, then hook the seat over something and walk the chair off.
It would take phenomenal abdominals. Someone less muscular couldn’t do it, but he was willing to bet his Sunny could.
His Sunny. He met her glare with a sense of bewilderment. This rush of feelings around her unsettled him. He’d have to deal with it eventually. But first things first. Distract Sunny from figuring out how to free herself and buy himself time to destroy Eloise.
He could think of one very pleasant way to both relax Sunny’s muscle tone and distract her.
No, not taking advantage of her. Well, not unless she wanted him to, that was.
He was staring at her sex. He immediately flicked his eyes up to hers. A slight frown said she was following his train of thought. Suddenly her cheeks flushed, her mouth fell open and she started to pant. Fury—or arousal?
He couldn’t tell, despite being able to read anyone, anywhere. He decided she was frightened and bent to undo her.
To his utter shock, she said, “Payback for this morning?”
He glanced up. Eyes sparkling, she spread her thighs. She was panting in anticipation.
He swallowed. “Let me be clear. I’m not taking off the handcuffs. But I won’t use them to force you to submit to me.”
She arched a brow. “Maybe I want to.”
He couldn’t help himself then. He really couldn’t. He knelt, pushed her legs farther and went down on her.
She squealed as his breath heated her. The sound was a bell-peal of delight to him. He bit and kissed wool, while his fingers worked at her belt and buttons and zipper. When they were open he hefted her hips and pulled off her pants and panties. He pulled so hard they shot from his hand to skid across the floor.
He was already kneeling, tasting heaven.
He licked her, over and over. Her panting quickened. The soft gasps feathered against his ears. He kissed her, and she swelled under his lips. He licked again and she opened, a rose blooming.
The sensation of her, slick and warm against his tongue, energized his nerve endings. He licked again. Her inner sex blossomed, smaller lips stiffening, standing proud. He ran his tongue up one side, around her stiffening clitoris and down the other. She gasped.
He pressed a deep kiss to her. She was a marvel. Her swollen sex pillowed his lips. In their folds nestled her hard little clit, like a sweet pearl. He rolled his tongue against it and felt it rise.
He was doing this to her. It filled him with power. Again he ran his tongue up one side and down the other. Her clit swelled in reply.
Every nerve in his lips and tongue was shouting at him, telling him so many things all at once. It was like driving a Ferrari, taking everything he had but giving back more. He had to pay close attention—to what he was doing to her, but also to what she was doing to him, her scents, her sounds, her pleasure a feedback that boosted him nearer to heaven.
She was so incredibly responsive. As he licked and kissed her pretty little pussy, she moaned and began to thrash. Her pounding heartbeat filled his ears; her soft, feminine scent filled his nose; her sleek thighs were a delight to his fingers and tongue. She stimulated all of him. He wanted to cover himself in her.
He fastened on to her and began to suck. So clean, so fresh and heady. Like champagne, crisp and light and exciting.
She groaned and clenched her strong thighs around his head. He worked his chin against her and she pushed back, trying to ride his jaw. He gave her everything she asked for and more.
She arched, impending orgasm. He drove a finger into her. She shuddered. He sucked hard and thrust savagely.
She came with a low cry, rolling herself against him with abandonment, her pleasure stunning in its ferocity. Stunning him too, because he was right there with her, totally focused on her, living it through her and not worried about himself.
Yet he strained against his zipper until it hurt. This was a new kind of arousal, concentrated not on his cock but on her, arousal through his ultra-sensitive lips and tongue, more exciting than anything he’d ever done in his life. He’d given head before, but never fully clothed. Never without touch or the promise of touch in return.
Why hadn’t he done this? It was amazing, exquisite.
He’d never wanted to. Not until her.
A soft chime went off. Her phone, a reminder… The gazebo on Fifth and Lincoln, nine tonight. He’d have to run.
He barely managed to push himself away, fighting himself, wanting to stay with her more than he’d ever wanted anything. He damned his own self-discipline. He left her there, languid, satisfied that she wouldn’t make this meeting with Eloise, but even more satisfied by how beautifully she’d come under his mouth.
He got to the gazebo barely in time. Even then his head really wasn’t in it, thinking about Sunny, so though Eloise stood open on the steps, he didn’t immediately attack.
The female before him was hauntingly familiar—the petite frame, the brown pageboy haircut, the doe brown eyes so like Sunny’s. But no. Those slender womanly curves weren’t Sunny’s tightly muscled body. The bored, cynical gaze wasn’t Sunny’s snapping brown. The bat birthmark she had in common with her father was covered by makeup, but that was definitely Eloise.
The veil of pleasure lifted from his eyes and he saw that there was a world of difference between the female before him and Sunny. Eloise held herself stiffly compared to Sunny’s tightly ready stance. Her eyes were too small and narrow. Sunny’s were two beautiful half-moons, especially when she smiled…
Head in the game. He prepared to attack.
The wind shifted. She lifted her head—and misted.
Aiden’s spine iced at the speed with which she’d reacted. In the decades since he’d seen her last, she’d trained.
A telltale whirl of gray zipped for the street. He followed her mist, running.
A dark car careened into view. She reformed and dashed for it. He blew himself apart and pursued.
He snapped back to an opening rear door, two vampires armed with flamethrowers piling out before the car even stopped. Eloise threw herself between the vampires into the backseat as the throwers belched fire. Aiden leaped past flame into the backseat beside her.
She threw silver dust in his face. She’d done it barehanded and her screams mingled with his stunned gasp. Dust clogged his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He blinked helplessly, tears streaming bloody down his cheeks. He couldn’t see.
“Aiden,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, but it’s for your own good. I’ll make it better, I promise.”
Her vampires clamped on to his arms and tried to shove him into the car. He fought back with all his strength but his blows were hampered by no breath. Eloise petted at him with frenzied hands while her crew, keeping hold of him, climbed into the car and switched to pulling. The car squealed away, door still open.
Coughing up silver, he drew his knife and hacked blindly at vampires. They lost their grip on him and he fell from the car. He tucked and rolled automatically, coming to a halt on the pavement with skinned everything. As the car careened away he collapsed, coughing, weeping blood to clear his eyes.
Finally his coughing quieted. He palmed his forehead. Eloise was going to be a bigger problem than he’d thought.
Chapter Fourteen
Pounding at the infirmary door woke me from the soundest after-sex sleep I’d ever had.
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br /> Knock, knock, knock. “Sunny? Are you in there?” My brother had been interrupting me “reading” in the bathroom for years. He had the timing of a genius quarterback, catching me sneezus-interruptus, as it were. Today Dirk was a good ten minutes late. Or maybe Blackthorne’s clever tongue had made a twenty-minute job into ten. If he hadn’t already gone I would have kissed him.
Knock, knock, knock. “Sunny, if you’re in there, let me in.”
I considered my position, slumped in the chair, my naked hips at the edge, pants and panties…somewhere.
Knock, knock, knock. “Sunny? If you’re not there, could you tell me where you are? Or should I ask Captain Titus?”
Slap me upside the head with a Glock. “I’m here. Just a minute!”
“Oh good. I was hoping that was you. It sounded like your snoring but it could also have been Captain Titus since he snores sometimes, but usually he’s louder. Unless you’re snoring in there with Captain Titus?”
“No, Dirk.” The thought of synchronized snoring with Tight-Ass weirded me out. Frankly, the thought of snoring with anyone but Blackthorne…fuck.
I tried to push my arms free of the back and couldn’t. So I used every bit of strength in my abs and thighs to stand. Hooking the seat over the edge of the infirmary bed, I basically walked the thing off. Once I’d gotten free of the chair, I managed to fumble the keys from my belt pouch and unlock the cuffs.
“Well, I’m glad it’s not Captain Titus snoring in there because he’s a bit of a crankypants when I wake him up. Although that ‘no’ sounded cranky to me.” Dirk was still knocking. “Are you sure you’re not Captain Titus?”
“I’m sure.” I found my panties and trousers, pulled them on over satisfied Sunny, went to the door, took a half step back because I knew my brother and opened. “See? Me.”
Dirk knocked air in my face. If I’d been that half step closer he’d have punched me in the nose. “Hello, Sunny. It’s time to start work. Unless you’ve already been working hard in which case you should take a break. If you haven’t already taken a break with all that snoring.”
