“Send someone to feed her,” Ian called after him.
“I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“You won’t. Just send someone. She’s mine to care for.”
Kenji barely acknowledged before heading up the stairs, leaving Ian and Alice alone. She writhed and cried with pain, and he vaguely remembered how bad it was during the transformation, the agony and the hunger. Oh, hell, the hunger.
Ian scooped her into his lap and held her close. Her barely extended fangs bit into his wrist, but he didn’t pull away.
“My blood won’t do anything for you, turtle. I’m sorry. I wish it could, but we’re not mated.”
He let her take from his wrist anyway. It wouldn’t hurt him much, and it could at least dull the edge of hunger, though she’d get no nourishment from him. His arms squeezed tighter around her and a broken sob escaped him. Goddamn. If an adjuvant hadn’t been around, she would have died. He buried his face in her thick, soft hair, breathing in her beautiful scent with that hint of warm cookies.
She had a long way to go before she’d stabilize, but at least she was here in his arms, living, breathing, whole, and healed. He lifted his wrist so when her chin followed, he examined her throat. A long, pink slash marred the skin. She had a new twin in Ezra, matching scars and all. The color and thickness would fade by next nightfall as long as she fed well.
She withdrew from his wrist with a soft hiss. He tilted her face up. Her eyes had been so light, she was already gaining the red tint in them. He’d miss that silvery color, but he wouldn’t trade her well-being for anything.
“I know. Didn’t help much, did it? Just hang tight, Alice. I’ll take care of you.”
Too far into the shock of transformation to speak, she wrapped herself around him, nearly clawing at his shoulders to hold on. Seeking comfort. The change was a terrifying thing, especially to someone as unprepared as Alice had been. He cuddled her against him, pouring his heart out in low murmurs at her ear, touching her from her nape to the base of her spine and along her shapely legs draped across his lap.
He should have known the moment she’d turned him away at her office, by the way his heart had withered and crumbled like an old, yellowed newspaper. He’d felt love before. It was no stranger to him. Should have known she’d stolen his heart. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to admit it. Accepting his feelings would have, and quite thoroughly did, open him to pain and misery. He couldn’t take another loss like when he’d lost Sean.
But he had her back, and she would be his. He didn’t care what he had to do to make that happen. He’d beg, borrow, cheat, lie, and steal. She had to be his.
Dec jogged into the foyer and slid to a stop, his eyes glued to Alice. “What the hell?”
Ian frowned. “What’s going on, Dec?” He took a closer look at his partner. The man had paled a shade or two. “What happened? Why are you looking at her like that?”
“You’re not going to fucking believe this.” Dec pointed toward Alice. “She’s an adjuvant.”
That couldn’t have surprised him more if Dec had struck him with a two-by-four. “How do you know that?”
Dec crouched next to him. “Get this. I’m in the security room zipping through video and next thing I know, there’s Alice. She’s just standing there confused, and then she tells me she’s starving.”
“Uh, are you sure you didn’t get knocked in the head at some point this evening?”
“Positive, and I’m positive she dissipated into a trail of mist. She’s a spectral. No doubt in my mind. I’ve only seen one, but he left an impression.”
“She’s been here in my arms the whole time.”
Dec shrugged. “She would be because I didn’t see her. I saw her astral projection. Like an advanced form of telepathy.”
Ian eased Alice off of his shoulders. “Turtle?” Her eyes seemed a little hazy, but she focused on him after a moment. “Do you remember telling Dec you were hungry?”
Her face scrunched up in concentration. She shook her head at first and then began to nod as her expression cleared.
“Can you try to tell him again?”
She closed her eyes, but nothing happened. Then Dec flinched and turned to his right. “She’s here. Right here.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“You wouldn’t. She’s projecting to me.” He talked to the empty space in front of him. “Okay, Alice. You can go back. We’re getting you someone—I mean, we’re getting you some nourishment.”
Alice slumped in his arms. “Shit,” he said, catching her before she slid off his lap. “What’s it doing to her?”
“It’s exhaustion,” Kenji said, appearing as unexpectedly as a viper. “Our abilities are draining when we’re infants. Such a useful ability goes well beyond the bounds of telepathy. It pushes even Immortalis barriers and projects long distances. Hers is a rare one.” A sheen of bitter envy swept over his expression, and Ian tightened his hold on Alice. He didn’t want that trash anywhere near her. If he didn’t get his damned eyeballs off her…
“What’s taking so long for the feeding? Don’t you have bleeders here or did you call a service?” He felt a momentary pang of regret for using the derogatory term for donors, but his patience had hit a limit. He was irritated, dammit.
“Any minute now.”
“And I’m taking her to a room. I won’t keep her out here on the floor like a stray dog.”
“Not demanding at all, are we, Tracker?” Kenji left, presumably to accommodate. It made no difference. He was putting her in a room for the day, whether he had to seek one out himself or not. He could picture her at his ranch so easily, but she wasn’t ready for that. She needed to be close to a blood source.
“Any luck with the video?” Ian glanced up when Dec didn’t answer.
“I’m so sorry, Ian.” His friend appeared a little rough around the edges. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve watched your back, especially with Revenant on the loose.”
“It’s all right, Dec. I gave the okay, and it’s what we were supposed to do. She’ll be fine now.”
“Yeah, she will, but will you? You know it was illegal.”
“You going to turn me in?” he asked. Dec didn’t laugh, not even a smile. That was standard for Dec, but Ian didn’t sense even a snicker in his friend’s demeanor. “I know. I’ll throw myself on Izel’s mercy.”
Dec’s eyebrows lifted. “Izel? Mercy? You’re kidding, right? That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”
“I’m a Tracker, and I have friends in high places.” Some terrible feeling burned low in his gut, and when he gazed down at Alice in his arms, he knew what it was. He was doing it again, using his position to twist the rules into the shape he desired. He couldn’t go back and change his choices in the past, but he could face the music now. Would she hate him if he didn’t take responsibility for this? Maybe taking his punishment at Izel’s hand would finally prove to her that he wasn’t a bad cop after all. Maybe he could prove it to himself.
“Come on. Let’s find some rooms. The sun’s coming up, and I want to make sure there’s a good blockade between us and it.”
They’d made it to the top of the stairs when another sour-faced subjugate appeared. The man didn’t speak, but led them to adjacent rooms. Dec gave a semi salute before ducking into his room. He heard the snick of the lock and laughed to himself. If he knew Dec, his partner wouldn’t leave it at the lock. He’d have the room booby-trapped like a minefield within ten minutes flat.
Ian carried Alice into the large guest room, and the subjugate followed them in. Good. Time to get this part over with. Ian had never provided aftercare on his own before, but he knew the requirements. Alice would be ravenous, nearly out of control, and he’d have to restrain her to prevent an accidental blooding of the human donor.
The subjugate began to unbutton his shirt from the top, but Ian stopped him.
“No. From the arm. Jacket off and sleeves up.”
The man said nothing, but
complied with his instructions. Were these humans beaten when they spoke inside the household? He wouldn’t put it past Ander to teach the humans such lowly behavior. They must all be destined for the Immortalis Legio.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, he settled Alice against his chest. Her clothing was already soiled so he didn’t bother removing it. A slight nudge gently roused her from her slumber. She sucked in a harsh breath as she came awake.
“You’re all right, Alice. I’m right here.” He caressed her blood-smeared cheek. “Hungry?”
She tried to speak, but nodded instead when the words wouldn’t come.
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. Your mind will revolt over your instincts because you’re conditioned to eat human food. But, turtle, you need to drink. You’ll be much better after the first one, and then it’ll get easier. You’re doing quite well already. Most newly turned would be a raving mess by now, but you’re hanging in there.”
She rubbed his wrist, the one she’d fed from earlier.
“Ah, did it help?”
She nodded, and he experienced a ridiculous rush of pleasure. He’d been able to provide for her, to ease her, and he knew once they were mated, that pleasure would grow a hundredfold.
Ian motioned for the subjugate to approach, and Alice’s expression went straight to one of terror. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man’s proffered wrist. He kept his hands firmly on her hips to keep her from lunging, which was likely once she caught the scent of blood. She had the nose-crinkling revulsion going as if she’d been offered month-old trash. He chuckled and she shot him a glare. Okay, not funny. Message received.
Ian scored his wrist with a fang and dotted his blood on the subjugate’s skin, but she followed his open cut like a wolf on a blood trail.
“No, Alice. It won’t do you any good. It has to be his.” He pressed her closer to the subjugate, but she resisted. He’d never seen anything like this. No newly turned would spurn human blood for a vampire’s worthless blood. Had she begun to bond with him? He couldn’t let himself hope. Not now. He had to get her fed and well before he could even consider it.
The subjugate made a noise that could only be described as bellyaching and then he pierced his own wrist with a pin. Well that did it. The lunge happened so quickly, Ian almost didn’t catch her before she could pin the man and devour him. Her fangs had popped all the way, which was a good sign.
He tried to ignore the sound of the subjugate getting off and block out the sight of him rubbing the front of his jeans like he had an itch the size of Texas. Ian had never thought anything of that reaction until a man had it with Alice. Dammit, she was his. No one should have this pleasure from her but him.
When she’d fed long enough and nearly to the point of excess, he pulled her away, struggling against her resistance. A wave of his bloody wrist near her was all it took to divert her attention. His wound had healed already, but even the dry blood on him hooked her more than a human’s open vein. She latched on to his flesh, and he couldn’t deny her long enough to direct her in healing the subjugate’s wounds. The man stood wobbly, as if drunk, and Ian tended the wounds himself. He had no compunction over licking a man’s wrist if it kept him from bleeding to death or scarring. As if on cue, another subjugate slipped through the door to collect the donor.
Ian relaxed back onto the bed, pulling Alice along with him until they lay side by side. She cradled his wrist, and it took him a few moments to realize she wasn’t feeding from him. She was licking him and kissing his skin. His eyes popped wide open.
Her irises were a deep gorgeous red. “Ian.”
She was back, fully aware. Now that her fear had ebbed, would she have regrets? She could hate him forever for what he’d done. If what he suspected were true, that they were bonding, that could mean a long, painful life if she rejected him now.
Chapter Twenty-one
Alice didn’t feel too different. Once her mind cleared enough to process what had happened, she thought she’d feel like something else, not human. She didn’t. Everything was a little sharper, clearer, louder. She was stronger and more aware of her body and surroundings, but other than that, she felt the same. Except the hunger. Oh, that awful hunger. It had hijacked her body entirely and made her glad Ian had been there to pull her back. She might have gone as far as blooding the guy if he hadn’t.
And he was here beside her on a bed in a room where they were alone, and a different sort of hunger crept in. One that had begun with the irresistible taste of his skin. Just the thought of him, his scent and his taste, brought her nerve endings roaring to life.
He regarded her with a cautious, wary expression.
“How do you feel, Alice?”
She slid her hands up his arms, over the curves of his biceps to his mountainous shoulders, all hard muscle. His jaw flexed with tension.
“I feel like I could taste you for hours. I feel like doing this.”
She pressed her mouth to his chin and trailed up to his lips. She had a moment of worry he wouldn’t respond, but it was unfounded. The second her lips arrived to meet his, he devoured her mouth. His tongue slipped along hers in a highly suggestive rhythm. Her body temperature shot up like a filled lava tube, and her head went straight to the clouds.
Every inch of her against him ignited with all-consuming need. This was far beyond the stages of want and desire. She had to have him. Like her soul depended on it. His hands drove through her hair and gripped tight enough to pull lightly on her scalp.
“Yes.” She moaned against his lips. “Touch me, Ian. Touch me everywhere.”
He didn’t hold back. While his mouth reclaimed hers, he trailed a hand down her throat, along her collarbone and then lower to cup her breast. She arched into his palm, her nipples beading into hard little points. His fingers explored the peaks through her sweater, first soothing and then lightly pinching, raining jolt after jolt down her body. She needed—holy mother of breast orgasms—his mouth. Right. There. Breaking away with a gasp, she tugged his head down to quench the flames, but he caught her wrists.
“No.” He rolled over her, trapping her beneath him and pinning her hands beside her head. His eyes blazing rubies, Ian’s words came out in ragged pants. “No shortcuts. I’m going to fuck you all day long, Alice. All day long.”
She moaned at the thrust of his hips against hers, his erection an impressive outline she felt plainly through his jeans. When she rubbed like a lusty feline along his length, he pressed her into the bed until she couldn’t move and kissed the frustrated sound from her mouth.
“I’m going to take you every way known to man and then some ways man has never known.”
A laugh bubbled up. “Bold threats, hick.”
“Promises, wench.” He grinned. “Promises.”
He began a lazy, sensuous journey down her throat, suckling in just the right spots until the blood rushed to her skin. She squirmed to free her hands, but he held fast.
“I want to touch you.”
“Mmmm, later.” Releasing her wrists, he sat back between her thighs and lifted the hem of her bloodstained sweater. “After you’re naked.”
Sitting up, she helped him strip away the vile thing, unable to stand the sight of it. The last thing she wanted in this moment was to recall the terror of what had nearly happened, what Ian had saved her from. Her Ian. The thought drove fierce need through her, and she ended up ripping his shirt.
He tackled her to the bed, his hearty laughter filling the empty pockets of space inside her. “Savage,” he said.
“Yes, now stop playing. I want you in me. You’re wasting time.”
He framed her face, his penetrating gaze holding hers. “I will never, ever waste another moment with you.”
She sucked in a breath. He’d never know the power his words held over her. It wasn’t only the words, but the way he said them. He meant every one. From the first day they’d met, he’d looked at her like this, as if she were the only one walking the earth with him.
How could she have ever implied he was nothing more than a friend? How could she have ever turned him away? She was in love with this sexy, funny, adorable, loving, honorable man. She loved him.
His beaming smile lit her insides. “Are we gonna cry? ‘Cause it looks like you’re gonna cry.”
She laughed a somewhat watery laugh. “No. I don’t cry.”
“Oh, never. I know that. Don’t be thinking your tears will save you, turtle.”
“Save me?” She frowned. “From what?”
“From me fucking you raw.” Just like that he took their moment from sweet and tender to fiery bliss. Her muscles tightened everywhere. When he leaned back and yanked the slacks down her legs, she lost her breath. Sharp fangs tore the side seams of her black silk panties.
“Oh God.”
“Been called that at times,” he said as he shed his jeans. Oh, gorgeous man. She hadn’t seen him fully naked before, and it was a sight that would never leave the back of her mind. His wide, strong shoulders led into muscled arms with biceps that flexed deliciously as he moved. She greedily eyed his powerful chest lightly sprinkled with hair leading a line past the ridges of his abdomen. And lower still to his thick erection nested in a trim patch of dark red curls. She couldn’t make it past his arousal. Such a beautiful cock needed a mouth around it. When she leaned down toward him, he roughly shoved her onto her back.
“Would you look at this body?” His gaze ate her up, traveling up and down the length of her like he wanted to tongue her everywhere at once, and it made her pulse hit the roof. Broad hands swept down from her shoulders, over her breasts where he squeezed nearly to the point of pain, across her belly, to finally land on the curve of her hips. He skimmed down her legs to her ankles and back up to the inside of her thighs.
A little course from battle and hard work, his hands sparked bursts of sensation everywhere they landed, making her writhe under the torturous pleasure. And frustrating as hell when he avoided her payoff points. Evil.
“You’re so close, Ian. Just a little higher.” Lifting her hips, she tried to maneuver his fingers. A wicked grin was her answer as he played where her thighs met her hips, teasing with ever-widening circles. Her clit throbbed so hard, it would explode if he didn’t do something soon.
Bad Cop (Entangled Covet) Page 16
