His blood headed south as he remembered stripping her out of her torn and bloody uniform, seeing her full breasts, tipped with pink nipples that begged him to take them into his mouth. Her tiny waist smoothing into shapely hips and a firm and heart shaped ass. He wondered how it would feel in his hands. Her legs were long and lean, he wanted them wrapped around him while he filled her, wanted her screaming his name with her release. She was heartbreakingly beautiful and though he knew it was wrong, he was sorely tempted to risk it just to feel her lips against his, her taste in his mouth.
That was not going to happen, he reminded himself, burying his attraction in the deep recesses of his being, where it could be locked down tight.
If Tambra survived the Rising, Fox would demand to take her, acclimatize her to her new existence, and teach her the laws of living under Lycan rule. Marcus would never see her again.
The one bright spot was that Zeke, their guru for all things tech, had found that Tambra had no living relatives. No ties binding her to her old life as she adjusted to her knew one. Her father was deceased and her mother had abandoned her when she was an infant.
“This is not funny,” Tambra spat, her back straight, chin held high. “I will not be held against my will. I’m a cop and people will look for me. Do you want that kind of trouble?”
“You are already trouble. Just by breathing,” he growled. “You cannot leave here without an understanding of the world you are about to enter.”
“I get the feeling I’m getting deeper into that rabbit hole,” she sighed. “So, I’m turning into a werewolf at the first full moon right?”
“Wrong. You are becoming a Lycan.” He held up a hand stopping her questions before they even got started. “You were bitten by a Pure Blood, a Lycan. In the Lycan world there is a structure much like that of a monarchy. You have the Pure Bloods, the royalty, who rule their Breed. If a Lycan bites a human, that turns the human into a Pure Blood, but if that same human bites another human, then they are called a Were since they have more human DNA than Lycan, and more limitations to what they can do.”
“Like what?
“Weres can only turn on a full moon, Lycan’s transformations are not limited. It’s not only wolves either. There are many types of Breeds in the shape shifting community that are identified as Weres and all have their own unique structure, yet it is only the wolves or Lycans that consider other Weres as beneath them.” Marcus’s voice held bitterness.
“You don’t agree with this, I take it.”
“No. I most definitely do not,” he stated firmly.
She tilted her head, studying him as she digested everything he just said. His gut churned, instinct told him she was taking everything he had thrown at her too calmly. She was up to something, but he couldn’t tell what.
“And what are you, Marcus Valerian?”
“Much like you, I enforce the laws of our Breeds. I am the leader of this group.”
“Makes sense, but what I meant was what Breed are you?”
“I am a vampire.”
“Vampire, really?” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
“I am not what your popular urban legend professes me to be, but the one grain of truth is that I do drink blood for my survival.”
“So you’re on a liquid diet and I’m the main course?”
He chuckled at that. “The truth has been twisted beyond recognition. My heart does beat, ceasing only when I’m deeply asleep. I can eat if it pleases me to do so. Sunlight won’t turn me to ashes, but it does weaken me to the point of losing consciousness, so I try to avoid it. I sleep in a bed with sheets. No soil. No coffin. Holy water just makes me wet, and I can visit any church I wish, consecrated ground holds no danger to my kind. We are long lived and don’t die easily.”
“Okay, good to know.” Tambra glanced warily up at him and slowly moved toward the bed, her knuckles white from the strain of gripping the comforter in front of her like a shield.
“So you can you turn into… things?” She didn’t even try to hide her revulsion.
“No, but I can blend into shadows.”
She frowned in confusion. “Blend into shadows?”
“I can mimic the shadows of my surroundings, making my form insubstantial.”
He smirked, watching with fascination as she worked out each fact he revealed to her. It was amazing to him how quickly she was adapting to his world, even if she had not been aware of it.
“And you’re saying that I can’t leave because I might kill people?”
“I’m an Enforcer of all species, including human kind. It is my duty to not risk anyone. It is also of the utmost importance that we remain hidden from humanity for our own protection. And could you really live with yourself if you harmed an innocent?”
“Of course not!” Tambra snapped. “But I have to contact my boss. I have to find out what happened to my partner.” A calculating gleam sparkled within her eyes. “I can’t just disappear, that would draw too much attention. You wouldn’t want that would you?”
“Valid reasons, I agree, yet not valid enough to run the risk of spilling innocent blood. I’m sorry. You will stay here. It is the safest alternative. I will take care of your boss to your satisfaction.”
He turned to leave, smiling as she sputtered in frustrated anger. He never heard her move as she slammed the bedside lamp over his head and everything went dark.
Chapter Four
Tambra hurriedly stripped Marcus out of his black shirt, admiring the silky material as she covered her nakedness with it. She fought the twinge of guilt as she eyed Marcus’s prone body. She’d had no choice, she reasoned, the man was obviously delusional, her best course of action was to get as far away as quickly as possible. If she hadn’t acted, he would have kept her here as a prisoner.
The man was gorgeous, his face chiseled perfection, thick blue-black hair falling past his shoulders. His eyes reminded her of dark chocolate, and were framed by ridiculously long black lashes. She watched the even rise and fall of his bare chest, his skin stretched taut over the defined muscles of his chest and hard ridges of his abs. His olive skin was marked by white scars that crossed over every inch of his bare torso. A trail of thin, black hair started at his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.
With deft fingers she undid his jeans, tugging them half way down his narrow hips before she discovered the man was wearing nothing beneath them. Even unaroused, his package was quite impressive. Forcing her mind back to the task at hand, she finished pulling the pants off his long legs and stepped into them. She was swimming in them, but the alternative of wandering the streets in only a shirt and panties was not an option.
She took one last look at Marcus lying unconscious on the floor. The dark ink of a tattoo on his shoulder caught her attention. It was intricately designed, starting on his shoulder. Vines wove around a shield and down, encircling his large bicep. The words on the shield were in what looked like Latin: “Morior cum Honoris, Redire in Vester Scutum”.
She shrugged off her puzzlement and pulled her gaze away. She didn’t know just how long he would be out and didn’t want to take the chance of being caught. Soundlessly, she slipped out into the hallway, fighting the trembling in her legs. She was not at top form and would not make it very far on her own, but there was nothing for it. She had to get to the nearest station on foot.
She hurried down the hallway, passing paintings of landscapes and pastoral scenes. No sound came to her as she made her way down the stairs. On her right, in the foyer, stood an elegant cherry wood table, a crystal vase full of white roses on its polished surface. On the left, a small hallway turned into a massive living room. She got a glimpse of black leather wing backed chairs surrounding a huge oblong table before she turned her attention back to the foyer and the door to her freedom.
Tambra slipped out unnoticed, catching her breath as the leftover heat from the day hit her like a physical force. The night sky, which Tambra usually saw drowned by the lights fr
om the strip, was brilliant with stars, laid out like glittering diamonds. Within moments, sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts, plastering the silk of Marcus’s shirt against her body. She pushed herself into a sprint, concentrating on her surroundings. The hot asphalt burned her feet.
She could see the lights from the strip far off and to the south. She must be in the northwestern part of the city where there was less development and more desert. She guessed she was about five miles from the nearest police station and prayed she could make it there without collapsing into a wet, exhausted heap in the middle of the road.
Her sprint turned to painfully slow plodding. She had no sense of how long she had been walking. She could only concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t until a black sedan pulled up right alongside her that she became aware she was no longer alone. She stopped, peering into the open window on the passenger side, making out the dim outline of an elderly man at the wheel.
"Can I be of some assistance, young lady?” His voice was British and filled with concern.
“I need a ride if you don’t mind.” She cursed the weakness in her voice as her body shook with exhaustion.
“I would be happy to give you a lift.”
She nearly wept with relief, wanting nothing more than a shower and her bed. Slipping into the seat, she leaned her head back against the head rest with a sigh, and gave him her address.
“I will have you there in a jiffy, Miss. You just rest. You look quite out of sorts.”
He spoke softly, his voice melodic and deep. She felt her tense muscles relax in the cool confines of the car, the AC emitting a soft whirr as the cool air caressed her sweat slick skin. Closing her eyes, she sank into a light doze, unable to combat the exhaustion that plagued her.
A hand on Tambra’s shoulder jarred her awake. Panic skittered though her for a second before she remembered where she was and the events that had brought her there. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and looked out the windshield at the familiar sight of her apartment building.
It was a small complex with tall palm trees clustered around the white and brown stucco buildings. Lantana in yellow, red, orange, and purple trailed around the front walkways, spreading out over the concrete. Home.
“Thanks for the ride.”
Her words were muffled as she stepped out of the vehicle. The older man didn’t seem to mind. He pulled away without so much as a word, leaving her to watch his taillights speed away.
Tambra went to the corner apartment door on the far end of the building and grabbed the key from under a loose chunk of concrete by her step. She froze just as she was placing the key into the lock, the hair at her nape standing on end. Someone was watching her. She had gotten to know that feeling all too well in her line of work. It could be the only thing between living and being on a coroner’s table with a toe tag.
Turning, she scanned the area. A yellowish ray of light illuminated a spot of the parking lot, casting much of the area in dark shadows. A hint of movement caught her eye and she swore under her breath at her lost gun. It would have been handy if things got ugly, but, as it stood, now she only had her self defense training as back up.
The dark shape stepped into the light and Tambra nearly crumpled with relief. It was Cody. The light caught the burnished copper of his short hair as he came toward her. His long legs ate up the distance between them in seconds and she found herself swallowed up in his strong arms, her face pressed to his chest.
“Damn, cher, you scared the hell out of me. Where have you been? The Captain is about to put an APB on your ass.” His Cajun accent was thick, as it always was when he got fired up about something.
“What about you? Where were you the other night when we were chasing that perp?” she demanded as she stepped back, pushing away from his embrace. “I tried you on the radio but got nothing but static.”
Cody gave her one of his lopsided grins. The ones that disarmed most women and made them putty in his hands.
She snorted. “Look, buddy, that don’t work on me. You’re like a brother to me. I’m immune. Let me get inside before I collapse, and then you will tell me what happened to you.”
Cody raised his hands in surrender and followed her inside. The air was stale from being closed up for too long.
The contrast between Marcus’s home and her small dwelling drew her up short. Instead of large landscape paintings she had a single picture on a scuffed coffee table, showing her and her father at her graduation. Instead of black leather wing tip furniture she had a pale green couch. Since she spent most of her time working, she only really needed a place to put the few things she had.
She wanted nothing more than to take a shower and sleep for a week. And then she would still have to think about everything Marcus had told her.
Cody though, had other ideas as he took in her clothes, or lack of them.
“Tambra, where’s your gun? And your clothes?” He frowned at her.
She couldn’t tell him everything that had happened, he would never believe it. Marcus was right about that. But she could give him an edited version of what had happened.
“Look, I don’t have the energy to explain everything right now. I ran into some trouble and was helped out by a Marcus Valerian. Does that name ring a bell?” At Cody’s blank look she continued, “Okay. I need you to do me a favor and run the name. See what you come up with. I need an address, cell phone, anything. I don’t care how inconsequential, I want to know it by tomorrow night. I was brought unconscious to his home. He was watching over me until I came around.”
“What the hell did he do to you?” Cody growled, his face full of dark fury as he sprang from his chair and strode toward her.
Tambra blinked in surprise. “Nothing, he saved my life. I was injured.”
“Where, godammit? You should be in a hospital, not walking the streets by yourself.”
Her hand went to where the Lycan had bitten her and she gasped in shock as she found only smooth skin under her fingertips. Whirling around, she ran through her bedroom to the small bathroom with Cody hot on her heels. Shutting the door in his face, she faced her mirror and looked with disbelief at the unmarred skin of her neck and shoulder. Letting her borrowed jeans drop to the floor she could only stare at the smooth skin on her thigh.
Cody pounded furiously on the door. “Tam are you okay? I’m coming in.”
“No! I… I’m alright just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”
“If you’re hurt you need to get your ass to the hospital, cher.”
“I said I’m fine, Cody. I’m just tired. Wait for me in the living room. I’ll be there in just a second.” She closed her eyes and waited for what seemed like hours for Cody to answer her.
“Alright I’ll be in the living room then. Don’t take too long, cher, or I will bust down this door,” he warned.
Tambra leaned weakly against the sink, not sure what was happening to her. The idea that Marcus could be telling her the truth made her stomach churn, but what other possible explanation could there be? She knew she had been injured, she had seen the wounds the Lycan had left on her body that night. Her mind reeled with the implications. She couldn’t think about that right now, not with Cody pacing like a caged tiger in her apartment, waiting for an explanation she couldn’t even believe herself.
She went to her bedroom and pulled a tee shirt and some sweats out of her dresser, and quickly pulled them on before going out to face Cody.
She found him leaning against her kitchen wall, his face as dark as thunderclouds when she walked in.
“Cody, I really don’t want to get into this with you tonight. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow.”
“I will hold you to that, Tam,” he warned.
“Fair enough. Now, where were you that night?” She watched him squirm with a small smile.
“Well, this is a little embarrassing, but I got jumped from behind. Laid me flat for a while. By the time I came to and got to
the alley there wasn’t no one there. Been looking for you ever since.”
She yawned, unable to keep the exhaustion at bay any longer. Her body ached. She needed rest desperately.
Cody took it as his cue to leave. Closing the distance between them, he gave her a stern look. “Get some sleep. You look like hell, cher.”
She rolled her eyes. “Gee you really know how to talk to a gal.”
His laugh was rich, warm and soothing to her frayed nerves. She followed him to the door.
“I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
“That you know of. Now get out of here so I can get some sleep. Call me in the late morning so we can go through what you find out about Valerian.”
“Slave Driver.”
He sighed deeply before placing a kiss on the top of her head, knowing how much she hated that, and slipping out into the darkness.
She locked the door and made her way toward a much needed shower. Once clean, she pulled on an old, oversized tee shirt and groaned with pleasure as she sprawled out on her bed, nuzzling her head into her pillow. As sleep claimed her, the last thing she envisioned was the dark, masculine face of Marcus Valerian
****
“You just let her go? Are you insane?” Tegan bellowed, causing Marcus to flinch from the noise. His throbbing headache, courtesy of Tambra and the irreplaceable Tiffany lamp she destroyed, intensified.
“Yelling will not help us, Tegan. Allow him to explain,” Adrian, always the voice of reason, interjected. He placed his tall body in front of Tegan, a dumb move for most, but not for Adrian, who could more than hold his own with the temperamental were-panther. His voice seemed to sooth some of Tegan’s agitation. Tegan retreated, throwing his hands in the air and dropping into one of the many overstuffed chairs spread throughout the room.
Dark Passion Rising Page 3
