Temptation

by J. C. Wilder

  Silently Brent cursed. He was swamped with his current caseload and he’d meant to compare the two inventories himself earlier in the day. But the lead on Elena had come in and he’d kicked everything else to the curb. “What would that be?”

  “Both women had past criminal records for petty theft and credit card fraud. Both were found with multiple stolen credit cards in their possession and each women had a card with the name of Vivian Carrington.” Brent heard the rustle of paper over the pounding of his heart. “I have here on your list that there were multiple receipts. Have you looked into what credit cards were used that day?”

  “Yes, but I don’t have that paperwork in front of me.”

  “Well, look into that and get back to me. My victim was using Ms. Carrington’s cards just twenty minutes before she was killed. If your victim was using those cards as well, we might have more on our hands than just a couple of murders.”

  Brent thanked the detective and hung up, his mind racing. If both women had used Vivian’s cards just prior to their deaths, what did that mean? Was someone after Vivian? He gunned the motor and put the car into drive. Maybe her mugging wasn’t quite as random as it had originally appeared.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Where are they?”

  Brent Draven stood in Sinjin’s office door and his expression was dark. Sinjin tamped down the mild irritation that had reared its ugly head at the sight of the detective.

  “Define ‘they’.” Sinjin laid the diary pages he’d been studying facedown on his desk. He couldn’t concentrate when he didn’t know where Vivian had gone. The cursed woman hadn’t even bothered to leave a note.

  “Vivian Carrington and Elena Vasquez,” Brent said.

  Sinjin frowned. How did the detective know Elena and what did he want with her? “I have no idea. I’ve been calling all over town for Vivian.”

  “Elena,” Brent advanced into the room. “How long have you known her?”

  “A little over a week, I guess.” Sinjin shrugged.

  “Did you approach her or did she approach you?”

  “Why do ye want to know?” Sinjin shot back. He was getting a little tired of the inquisition.

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Are ye here in an official capacity?” He rose from behind the desk and leaned forward, palms down on the polished top. “If ye are, I dinna remember seeing yer badge nor a warrant.”

  “I don’t need a warrant to ask a few questions…in an official capacity, of course.” Brent’s eyes glinted with a combative light as he advanced into the room, stopping when he reached the opposite side of the desk. “I can always take you downtown if that will help jog your memory.”

  Sinjin could scarcely believe what he was hearing and he fought the urge to leap over the desk and rip the other man’s throat out. Was Draven threatening to arrest him? The last thing he could afford to do was to end up in jail. Not only would it be disastrous if he didn’t manage to get himself released by sunrise, he wouldn’t be able to wait for Vivian’s call. Where the devil was the woman?

  “I spoke to her first.” He gave the detective a look he hoped would let Brent know in no uncertain terms that he’d get back at him for this impromptu questioning. “She’d been frequenting the Chat and I was intrigued the first time I saw her.” He shuffled the copies then slid the pages into a folder before dropping them into an open drawer.

  “Did she mention anything about a moonstone necklace?”

  He frowned. “Nae. Why would Vivian mention a necklace to me?”

  “I’m not talking about Vivian.”

  “Who are ye talking about?”

  “Elena.”

  Sinjin shook his head. “Why are ye looking for Elena?”

  “Yes, why are you looking for the lovely Elena?” Miles stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the detective and, in his hand, he held a semiautomatic pistol, the muzzle trained on Brent’s head.

  “Good evening, Miles.” Sinjin silently cursed the fact that Brent had managed to distract him so an immortal could sneak up the stairs. As a vampire, Sinjin didn’t have much to fear from a gun. However, Brent was mortal and highly susceptible to the damage bullets could inflict. He nudged the drawer shut with his leg, secreting away the diary pages. “What can I do for ye?”

  “I think you already know.” Miles stepped into the room, waving the muzzle of the gun at Brent, motioning him to move away from the desk. “Empty your pockets and put your weapons on the desk.”

  Sinjin glanced at Brent and saw that the detective’s gaze was focused on the barrel of Miles’ gun. He put a hand up as if to pacify Miles by showing him how harmless he was. “I think we should talk about what you’re about to do—”

  “No discussion is needed,” Miles said. “Empty your pockets and holster or she dies.”

  Another man stepped into the room, pulling a smaller figure behind him. Long dark hair hung in a ragged braid and, in a glance, Sinjin knew it was Elena. Her lower lip was split and her chin marred with blood. Her right eye was blackened and swollen shut. Bruises and abrasions marred her throat where a rope was tied like a dog leash. Her wrists were secured and chained to her waist.

  The new arrival shoved Elena in front of him before propelling her to sit on the couch by using the rope around her throat like the reins of a horse. After she was seated, he withdrew a small revolver and placed it against the side of her neck.

  “This one contains silver bullets, if you get my meaning,” he said.

  Brent glanced at Sinjin, his gaze clearly asking for direction in this situation. Sinjin gave the detective a slight nod. Brent may be in charge on the streets of New Orleans, but Sinjin was dealing with his own kind, something with which the detective had no experience. It was up to him to guide them all through the situation unharmed.

  Sinjin looked at Elena. “Are ye all right?”

  The eye that wasn’t swollen shut narrowed and she gave a jerky nod, her chin elevated to a haughty angle.

  His lips tightened. No woman should have to endure what had been inflicted upon her. Granted, she’d placed herself in harm’s way by stealing the diary in the first place and that put her square in the middle of the playing field. But enough was enough. Werewolves were sturdy creatures, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t feel pain and he could feel her pain and outrage even across the room.

  Sinjin moved around the desk as Brent removed a .40 H&K handgun from his shoulder holster. Holding it by two fingers, he laid it on the corner of desk.

  “What do ye want, Miles?” Sinjin leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest as if revenants entered his office with guns on a regular basis.

  “You know exactly what I want. Turn over the diary and we’ll walk away.”

  Sinjin knew better than to think Miles would let any of them go unscathed. “The diary is at my house.”

  “And the other one, detective?” Miles gave Brent an unpleasant smile.

  The detective raised his leg then tugged up his pant leg to remove a small, 9 mm semi-automatic from his ankle holster. He laid it beside the first firearm on the desk.

  “Then we’ll take a trip to your house, St. James,” the other man said.

  “I seem to be at a disadvantage here. Ye know who I am and I have no idea who ye are.”

  He gave Sinjin an unpleasant smile. “Gerald Lowery, at your service.”

  “Cut the crap,” Miles snarled. “I have a car out back.”

  Sinjin nodded toward Elena and Brent. “Shall I tie up these two before we leave?”

  “You don’t think they’d enjoy the chance to get some fresh air?” Miles shot Gerald an amused glance.

  “Nae.”

  “Too bad, they’re going.” Miles nodded toward the detective. “And the rest?”

  Brent muttered something uncomplimentary as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded knife. He placed it next to the guns.

  “Do ye have enough hardware?” Sinjin asked.

 
“Not nearly enough,” Brent replied. He looked from Miles to Gerald, then back again, his gaze assessing. “Would someone mind telling me why I’m being held at gunpoint?”

  “All in due time.” Gerald yanked Elena from the couch by tightening the rope around her neck. She made a choking noise and staggered to her feet, off balance because her hands were secured to her waist. Gerald laughed as she struggled to remain upright.

  “St. James, you go first.” Miles motioned Gerald away from the door.

  Sinjin walked down the steps leaving the others to follow, grateful for the first time that night Vivian wasn’t around.

  Vivian stood in front of the Chat, her bag tossed over one shoulder and her stomach crowded with butterflies. Swallowing her nervousness, she walked into the familiar chaos of the restaurant. One glance told her that Sinjin wasn’t behind the bar. Avoiding the milling crowd, she made her way to the stairway and jogged up to his office.

  The door was open and she stuck her head in. “Sinjin?”

  The room was cluttered and he was nowhere in sight. She walked into the room, her gaze catching on the unfamiliar sight of two guns and a folding knife on the desk. What the devil was he doing with guns on his desk? She didn’t remember ever seeing a gun here or at his home. Why would anyone leave weapons just sitting out in the open? Even a neophyte like her knew that they should be secured with locks or safely stowed away.

  The nervousness in her stomach turned to unease. She needed to find Sinjin and soon. As she neared the door, she saw several spots on the wood floor. She ran her fingers over them and found the spots were still damp. She lifted her fingers and looked at the red streaks. It sure looked like blood to her.

  Alarmed, she fished a tissue from her bag then she ran downstairs. As she entered the restaurant, she spied Tracey at the bar talking to Julius. “Have you seen Sinjin?”

  “No.” Tracey’s expression was troubled and she shot an uneasy glance at Julius.

  “Is something going on that I should know about?”

  “No.” The waitress turned away from her. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  Vivian grabbed her by the arm and swung her around, pinning her to the bar. “Because I found blood on the floor upstairs.” She held up the tissue, watching the way Tracey’s eyes widened when she saw the red stains.

  “He went out back with several other men,” Julius said.

  Vivian released the waitress. “Thanks.”

  “I don’t think you should follow him,” Tracey said. “You need to stay out of this. It’s too dangerous.”

  “You haven’t begun to see dangerous yet.”

  She slipped through the kitchen and to the back door. In the alley, a dark sedan was idling and a tall brown-haired man was getting into the car. Her blood froze when she recognized him as one of her attackers. On the passenger side, she saw his partner getting in the car.

  Through the back window she caught a glimpse of Sinjin and another man… Was that Brent beside him? The overhead light reflected off something shiny in the tall man’s hand.

  A gun.

  Ohmygod! Were they being kidnapped? Should she call the police? What would she tell them? Hell, Brent was the police.

  Before she could formulate another thought, the brake lights flashed as the car was put into drive. Vivian noted the direction of their departure before she ran back through the Chat and up the office stairs. She glanced at her watch. If her stepbrother was as efficient as usual, her car would be waiting out front.

  She darted into Sinjin’s office, heading for his desk where the guns rested. She tossed her bag on the couch as she passed. Luckily, she knew a little bit about handling weapons and she was pretty sure she could avoid shooting her foot off. Without a second thought, she grabbed both guns and the knife before she ran back downstairs. She should be able to get to her car and follow the others.

  She darted out into the street and ran toward where a black Cadillac was idling in park.

  The driver rolled down the window as she approached. “Vivian Carrington?” he asked. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the weapons she held clutched in her hands.

  She nodded and literally dove into the back seat, slamming the door behind her.

  “What’s the matter, lady?” he asked. “Is someone chasing you?”

  “A car will be coming down the street, dark sedan with several men in it,” she panted. “Follow them.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Vivian peeked over the car door as the sedan slid by. “No, I’m not.” She pointed the gun at him. “Does this look like I’m kidding? Follow them and you’ll get a really big tip.”

  The driver gave an excited yelp and, with trembling hands, put the Cadillac into drive, pulling out behind the other car. Vivian slouched in the back seat, her gaze glued to the taillights ahead. They followed at a modest distance for several blocks until the sedan slid to a halt in front of Sinjin’s home.

  “Pull around and up the street a bit. I don’t want them to see me.”

  Vivian was glad it was full dark as the occupants wouldn’t be able to see her clearly. Her driver pulled to a stop a half block north of Sinjin’s house. She peered out the back window as Sinjin and his group exited the car.

  The smallest of the group had a rope around her neck. The shorter of her attackers gave the rope a vicious jerk sending his victim stumbling. Brent reached out and helped pull her upright. Was that leather-chick being led by the leash? From this distance, Vivian couldn’t be sure it was her.

  As they entered the house, she reached into her pocket and tossed a handful of twenties at the driver. “Sorry I pointed a gun at you, I guess I got a little excited.”

  The driver picked up the crumpled bills. “Jeez, lady, next time just say please.”

  Vivian wanted to laugh and cry at the same time as she exited the car. The night was warm, humidity thick in the air. Fear coated her mouth with its nauseating metallic flavor. The bigger gun dug into her stomach as she ran through the yards toward Sinjin’s property, clutching the smaller gun in one sweaty palm.

  She tiptoed across the veranda, praying the old wood wouldn’t squeak and give her away. The front door was closed and she slipped it open, holding her breath as the aged hinges gave a minute squeak. The front hall was empty and she caught sight of the smaller man rounding the corner into the library. She entered, leaving the door open as she didn’t want to take a chance on another, louder noise giving her away.

  Now what? She was in the house, she had a gun, but what did she do?

  She jumped when a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Clutching the gun, she turned to find herself staring into a mirror, the gun aimed at her reflected midsection. With a sigh, she dropped her defensive stance.

  In the mirror was a Vivian Carrington she’d never seen before. Hair was untidy with soft wisps that had come lose from her twist and curled around her face. Her skin was deathly pale and her bruises stood out in stark contrast. Her shadowed eyes were huge with fear.

  This most definitely wasn’t the Vivian Carrington who owned more than half of one of the largest corporations in America. This wasn’t the woman who’d faced down overfed males who’d tried to wrest the company from her grasp when her father had died. This wasn’t the young girl who’d loved and lost. This wasn’t the woman who’d buried her best friend only a few months ago. This wasn’t the woman who’d lain with her lover only hours before.

  This was the face of a woman who was prepared to fight to the death for the man she loved.

  She straightened and laid her gun on the hallstand. Running a hand over her hair, she removed the clip and the mass of curls tumbled to her shoulders. Tugging the shirt from her jeans, she turned and checked to see that the other gun was concealed in the small of her back before she tucked the smaller one down the front of her pants. She then unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt to display her cleavage.

  Hands trembling, she pinched her cheeks and rub
bed her lips to give them a touch of color. In her life, she’d faced down lawyers trying to take her money and environmentalists who believed CI was destroying the atmosphere, along with several kidnapping threats.

  Vivian Carrington was a woman who could handle a few bad guys with guns even if they were vampires.

  She hoped.

  Sinjin heard the soft tread on the steps just moments before her gingery perfume wrapped itself around his senses. His grip tightened on the diary, which he’d just removed from the safe.

  Not now, not yet…

  “Sinjin, I know you’re up here and I’m coming to get you…”

  Vivian breezed through the doorway, her eyes widening as she took in the people in the library. “Heavens, a party and I wasn’t invited?”

  “Vivian—” Sinjin started.

  “Brent!” A huge smile graced her mouth as she crossed the room and flung her arms around the detective, pressing her body against his. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you, my friend?”

  Sinjin caught the look of surprise on the detective’s face as he hugged her, his arms wrapping around her waist. “It’s mighty good to see you too, Vivian.” He gave her a secretive smile, then swung her behind him, effectively shielding her from any threat that might come from their captors. The momentum of his move propelled Vivian toward the window then all hell broke loose.

  The window exploded inward with a shower of glass and bullets causing Vivian and Brent to fall to the floor. Bullets sprayed the wall near Sinjin and he dove to the floor as rounds of ammunition pinged off the safe door to ricochet around the room. He looked up in time to see Miles dive for Vivian as Gerald dropped to the ground pulling Elena in front of him to act as a shield.

  Across the room, Brent was trying to cover Vivian with his body, but Miles had grabbed her arm and was tugging her toward him. The rain of bullets from outside stopped.

  “What the hell was that?” Gerald raged.

  “I’ll fucking kill her if you don’t turn over the diary.” Miles pointed the gun at Vivian’s head.