“Ian, why’s this such a big secret? The VLO can help with this. What they’re doing breaks more laws than I care to count.”
Ian’s wide shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Guess it doesn’t matter as much now that Olen and Evangeline are gone.” He played idly with her hair, spreading the strands across her pillow. “But it could cause problems between Immortalis and humans.”
“I don’t think it would.”
He grunted his dissent and then traced a trail down her arm. “Now you,” he said softly.
“I don’t want to.” She flopped onto her back. “Please, Ian.” That had always worked before, but not this time.
“Please, Ian,” he said in a falsetto. “I showed you mine.”
She rolled toward him, intent on pushing him off the bed, but his free hand delved into her hair, holding her still.
“I’ve never seen you this down.” His thumb slid softly along her jaw. “Did they take Zach off the life support?”
“Not yet, but tomorrow…” She cupped her hand over his, needing the contact. “I started to go through Zach’s things, and I found something.”
She fought the sting of tears but her vision blurred. Her breath caught on the pain that reflashed as if it hadn’t already tortured her all day. Drawing her into his arms, he waited without question for her to calm.
With a load of reluctance, Alice sat up and reached for a book on her nightstand. The dull green ledger was worn on the binding, well used. When she’d first found it, she’d been hesitant to open it, thinking it would contain Zach’s private, innermost thoughts. The stupid book hadn’t contained anything but proof Zach had hidden another life from her, one she had no hope of understanding.
She’d been the one drinking underage, sneaking out, trespassing, and getting arrested by the truancy officer. The rotten child. Still she never would have touched what Zach had gotten into, not then and especially not if she’d had everything the way he had.
She handed the book to Ian. He sat cross-legged and then flipped it open, studying it with a frown.
“It’s in code,” he said.
She could barely squeeze the words past her tight throat. “He was dealing drugs.”
There was no other explanation. It contained names, locations, dates, and numbers, most in a poorly disguised cipher. Ian gave a single nod, his eyes downcast at the now-closed book. He tapped it lightly against his thigh and glanced up at her.
“This doesn’t necessarily mean what you’re thinking. You said they never found the weapon.”
She dropped back onto the bed, balling her pillow under her head. “If I was wrong about this—”
“Then you were wrong about this.” He tossed the ledger onto the stand. “There’s no way you could have known.”
“I didn’t even consider the idea.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you love someone. You trust them to be honest with you. You don’t want to see their flaws.”
“All this time, I thought I knew the truth, but now I have no idea what to believe. Maybe the cop was dirty, but maybe not. I’ll never know.”
He studied her for a long, silent moment. Then his eyes narrowed.
“I’m not sure I like that look.” She pushed up onto her elbow. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering if you’ve ever spoken to that officer.”
She rolled off the bed and raided her closet for clothes. “No.” For extra emphasis, she peered over her shoulder at him. “And by no, I mean hell no.”
“Why not? He’s the only other person who was there.”
“I couldn’t stand the thought of listening to any of his lies.”
Cupping her shoulders, he turned her to face him. She hadn’t even heard him leave the bed. “And now?”
Now? She couldn’t even think for all the turmoil rolling through her. The cop had probably told the truth about catching Zach dealing.
“You think I owe him a chance to explain?” She turned back to her closet. “He probably doesn’t give it a second thought.”
“For one, I bet he thinks about it all the time. LEOs torment themselves over killing, even when the perp deserved it.” There was a dark bitterness in his words. After over six hundred years of life, he’d likely dealt with those feelings more than a few times. “And two, I think you owe yourself an explanation from him.”
Motionless, she stood with her sweater dangling from her cold fingers. She couldn’t deny that she’d needed answers only the officer could give her, but six years ago, his words couldn’t be trusted. Could they now?
“Can you just—” He blew out a breath. “Give me his name, and I’ll call Guns. If anyone knows where to find this guy, it’ll be him.” He rubbed heat back into her arms. “I’ll go with you.”
“Tonight?” A panicky sensation twisted her stomach.
“Tonight. Get dressed.” He turned his back and got on his cell phone. After a moment, he called over his shoulder, “The name, Alice.”
“Scott Benning.”
Shivering from nerves, she threw on her clothes. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the officer, more that she wasn’t sure of her feelings. Chaos ruled her thoughts, making her numb.
When she turned, Ian was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her.
“Did you get a nice view?” she snapped.
He grinned. “The best. You always sleep without underwear under your pajamas?”
Heat burned her cheeks. “If I hadn’t fallen asleep on top of the covers, I would have been naked. I sleep in the nude, Ian.”
He coughed. Yes, she’d definitely put thoughts into his head. “That’s, uh, good to know.” Clearing his throat, he stood and offered his arm.
“You know where we’re going?” she asked as she tucked her arm through his.
“Yeah. Guns said Benning’s a detective in Drug Enforcement. He’s teamed up a few times on assignments with Guns over the last couple years.”
“State police?”
“With Guns on Gang Intervention, makes sense they’d run into each other.”
She’d half hoped Ian wouldn’t be able to find the officer, but she should have known the odds of that would be slim. Legion Trackers were specialists in locating anyone, not just stray vampires. When they reached the lobby, he opened the door for her, and she stared at the car waiting curbside.
“Corvette.” She arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, so she thinks she knows cars now.”
“You’re talking to yourself again,” she said as she crossed to his silver beauty.
“Okay, wiseass. What kind of Corvette?”
With a contented sigh, she slid into the buttery seat. “Does it matter? It looks old.”
He only shook his head in feigned disgust. From his lingering smile, it was obvious he enjoyed showing off his collection. “Linginfelter. Zero to sixty in less than two seconds.”
“Trying to make up for something?”
“My tiny pecker. What else?”
She snorted. It definitely wasn’t tiny. He just had to make her mind go there.
Classic Ian distraction tactic. It worked so well.
He got in and in no time, they arrived in front of a modest, well-lit suburban home that embodied middle-class family life, painted yellow with white trim, a white picket fence, and groomed lawn. Her nerves percolated again, but Ian’s hand covered hers where they fidgeted in her lap.
“Guns called him. He’s expecting us.” He lifted her chin. “I’m with you.”
She gathered her willpower and got out. After Ian’s knock, the few seconds for the door to open were excruciating. She might never have recognized the man who answered if she hadn’t already known who he was. He’d had dark hair and a smooth, youthful face when she’d seen pictures of him. He couldn’t have been much older than her twenty-six years, but his hair had gone gray in spots and lines bracketed his eyes and mouth.
“Detective Benning,” Ian said. His hand braced her lower back, making her r
ealize she’d begun to back away.
“Scott,” the detective said. He motioned them in and led them to a sitting area. Though the interior was spotless, it was quite unlike the exterior. No evidence of warm family life adorned the walls. No toys cluttered the living room or the hall. No voices from other parts of the house. Instead the sparse room held a couch, a well-worn recliner, and a modest TV. A few small pictures in frames sat on the mantle of an unused fireplace, and a stack of files occupied the coffee table.
“Gunner said you’d come by. Killian, right?” Ian nodded, and then the detective sat in the chair facing her. “And Alice.” The detective said nothing else, his expression blank.
“I need to know what happened the night you shot my brother.” Shock stung beneath her skin. She didn’t expect to blurt it out like that, but out it came like a heat-seeking missile.
His eyes flickering away from her, Scott’s jaw flexed. “You know the story.”
She ignored the low growl coming from Ian next to her. “Yes, I’m aware of the story. I want to know specifically what happened to the gun.”
“If I knew that, I would have been cleared a hell of a lot sooner than a month.”
Alice watched him closely. “Detective, I can tell when someone is lying to me. I need to know the truth. My brother’s going to die tomorrow.”
Scott’s gaze jerked to meet hers, and it wasn’t obscure anymore. There was pain there, enormous, debilitating pain. “I missed,” he said hoarsely.
“Missed?”
“I was aiming for his shoulder.” He braced his head with his hand. “I know we’re supposed to go for center of mass, but he wasn’t more than a kid so I went for the shoulder. My hands were shaking too much. I’d never had a gun fired at me before. Never even had one pointed my direction.”
A creeping numbness stole through her. Zach’d had a gun. The detective could have been lying, but if so, he was one hell of an actor.
“What happened to that gun?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see which way it went after he fell. I was too…I just don’t know.” He leaned his elbows on his knees and gripped his hands together. “It showed up again, though, eight months later during an armed robbery.”
“Wait. Showed up? How do you know it was that gun?”
“Ballistics database matched the bullets to the weapon.”
“What bullets?” Her pulse beat a few erratic pulses.
“The ones the kid shot at me.” He frowned at her. “He got off three shots. Went wide, thankfully.”
The words jolted her system. She hadn’t known about the bullets. How could she have missed that very important fact? Trying to stave off her sudden nausea, she swallowed convulsively. There was nothing Zach had done to indicate he would be involved in anything like the drugs or the shoot-out. Had she not known him at all?
“You said he’s going to die. What did you mean?” Scott asked.
“They’re taking him off life support.”
“I thought he didn’t need life support.”
“How would you—” But his face gave away the answer. “You’ve been checking up on him.”
He shrugged. “Every month or so.”
So Ian had been right. Scott Benning had never forgotten that night, and from the looks of things, his haggard appearance to his empty house, he had probably tortured himself. Over a man who had shot at him, a man he’d shot in self-defense. Her heart squeezed into her throat.
She grabbed Ian’s hand on the sofa next to her and gripped hard. The soothing glide of his thumb over her knuckles helped ground her before dizziness could set in. Silence reigned for several minutes while her emotions twirled into a tangled mess.
“He matters to you,” she murmured.
“Yes, he does.” No hesitation in Scott’s reply, though it hadn’t been a question but a statement of fact. To herself. God, the irony. There was no one else alive besides the men sitting there with her in Scott’s house who cared so deeply about what happened to Zach. Of the two men, the officer who had shot Zach would suffer the damage of her brother’s death. She’d been wrong, and she’d gone to such lengths to see him punished. There was really only one thing she could offer him to make up for that. It took every ounce of will in her to make the offer.
“Ian can’t be with me tomorrow because it’s during the day, but would you—”
“Yes.” Scott answered without hesitation. “I’ll come.”
“It’s in—”
“Bellevue, I know. Give me a call and I’ll be there.” He handed her his card. “I’m sorry, Alice.”
She cringed inside. “There really isn’t anything for you to be sorry about, Detective.”
“I’m sorry I missed. I’m sorry I even saw what he was doing.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Every day, I wonder if it was even worth it when I think of the cost of stopping someone from getting high.”
Part of Alice didn’t want to have a heart where Scott was concerned, but she couldn’t let him be responsible for Zach’s mistakes. Something told her nothing she said would make a difference to him, but she had to try. “Maybe it would have killed someone. Maybe what Zach sold had already killed someone or gotten someone killed over it. You don’t know. All you could do was your job. You did the right thing, Detective. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He nodded, but it wasn’t very convincing. After he reminded her to call him, she and Ian left.
The last six years she’d been holding on to the hope Zach would awaken.
But tomorrow, her twin, her other half, was going to die.
Chapter Fifteen
Alice was quiet on the ride back, and Ian sensed she needed that time for herself. Taking her hand, he offered his silent support. There was something horrific about stretching a death of a loved one over six years, a life in suspended animation. She’d spent her life in the same state right along with Zach. There was nothing he could say or do to save her from her pain.
They pulled up in front of her apartment building instead of the VLO. She was in no state to work, and there wasn’t anything to be done until they’d located Revenant or another dead fledgling showed up. When they reached her door, he braced himself for her inevitable request for solitude. Instead, she left the door open behind her.
The second he closed the door, she pinned him against it. Her hand fisted in the hair at his nape, and her mouth was on his. She licked the seam of his lips, and he wasn’t about to resist. She delved into his mouth, her tongue sliding sensually against his.
He drew back. “Alice—”
“Don’t.” She covered his mouth with one delicate finger. “No talking. Just forgetting.”
Holy fuck. She’d turned his rod titanium like a medieval alchemist. Then she climbed his body, lifting herself until her legs wrapped his waist. The heat of her aligned with his cock, and the thought of being inside that heat nearly popped his control.
Wait. He forced a little sanity. She was grieving. This wasn’t the right time for—her lips locked with his again.
Fuck. If a bout of mind-numbing sex was medicinal…
He explored her mouth as his hands followed her trim waist to her curved hips and around to grip her luscious ass, pulling her tighter against him. The friction of her rubbing against him drove him crazy. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he’d embarrass himself again.
He spun them, pressing her against the door. Tugging relentlessly at his shirt, she freed the tail of it and shoved her hands underneath to glide over his chest and down his belly. His skin quivered with delight at her touch. Trailing his mouth along her jaw, he found the sensitive place near her earlobe. Her sultry moan and flood of arousal pheromones said he’d found a sweet spot. He suckled there before moving lower along her throat.
Holy shit—those sounds she made… And then she wrapped her fingers around his bare cock. His knees nearly gave out. She’d opened his jeans and took what she wanted. Hell, yes. Head rolling back, he groaned, pushing into the clas
p of her hand. Fucking perfect. Fast down pump and slow up, smoothing over the head and then down again. Goddamn, he wasn’t going to last long like this.
He lifted her higher and reached between her spread thighs to cover her mound. Her body jerked, and she cried out. Wouldn’t take much to get her off, either. The clothes had to go. Now. Before he could move, she pulled up her sweater with one hand and clicked the front-fastening of her bra. Her breasts flushed a rosy pink to match her cheeks and trembled with the aroused shaking of her body. She guided his mouth to her nipple, scraping his scalp in her urgency—as if he’d need the encouragement. Her nipples were dusky little works of art. Ripe. His mouth watered, and then he covered her with a hard suction, his tongue working the stiffened point. She squirmed, her breath panting hard and fast. An even sweeter spot.
“Yes,” she rasped. “Oh, that’s so good. Ian!”
While he lavished each breast, he delved his hand between their bodies to open her slacks and push them down enough to reach in. Slick and ready for him. But damned if he wouldn’t keel over dead if he didn’t hear her come. He slid his finger into her, pressing his palm to her clit as he pushed in and out and seeking that incredible spot right—ah, there. The second she bucked and her frenzied cries rang his ears, he rubbed with abandon. So tight and smooth—paradise.
Her grip tightened on his cock almost painfully, and then she erupted in a molten burst of wet heat and sound. Fighting down his own climax, he kissed the breath from her mouth. She whimpered against his lips, her hips still moving against his hand. Withdrawing from her body was criminal, but he’d explode if he didn’t get inside her.
Lowering her legs, he shed her slacks and lacy panties, pushed his jeans down, and broke away from her for a few deep breaths.
“Fuck, Alice.”
His balls ached to release, but it couldn’t happen the second he got inside of her.
“Ian?”
“Shhh,” he panted, pressing his forehead against hers. “It’s okay. I’m on fire, but it feels good.” And it did. His body burned for her, his skin glistening with sweat, his muscles trembling. It was more than good.
Bad Cop (Entangled Covet) Page 11
