Marco discreetly flashed his badge at the doorman. “I’d like to have a friendly word with your boss.”
The man raised a beefy eyebrow then motioned with a jerk of his head. “Right this way.”
With one step, Marco left the familiar white noise of the city street and entered a world of loud music and flashing lights. At first glance The Cavern appeared to be like any other nightclub with several bars, clusters of tables and a bevy of sweaty bodies grinding together on the crowded dance floor. If he was honest, he’d have to admit that the interior was much nicer than any of the other clubs his work brought him to. Nicer than even the few he’d been to in Vegas. The club had class, no doubt about that, and as he waited by the bar where he was escorted, he saw why Coulter had been so eager to tag along.
Stories abounded throughout the police force about free-for-all sex taking place in every corner of the club, and while Marco didn’t see anything more scandalous than some heavy groping and a hand job going on at a nearby table, he’d bet money they were all true. There was a heightened sense of excitement pulsating in the air. A sensation of impending action that made him shift on his feet and continually scan the room for any unusual movement. Tiny pinpricks raced across his skin, and under his lightweight jacket his blood heated. Perspiration beaded on his lip and induced the urge to shed his clothing to relieve the pressure of his zipper against his stiffening cock.
He glanced up at the ceiling, searching for a source of ventilation. What were they doing? Pumping aphrodisiacs into the air? His heart sped up and he fought the need to walk out onto the dance floor just to feel some friction against his tingling skin.
The crowd parted and a woman walked toward him with a smile curling her luscious lips. Woman? Ha! This girl was unreal. She was an ethereal bombshell straight out of a comic book, with her shining straight black hair, curves like a ’55 Bel Air and lavender eyes that seemed to look straight to his soul and stir up all the desires he thought were dead and buried. A pale-pink gown hugged her body like extra-cling plastic wrap, and if he squinted his eyes, she appeared to be wearing nothing at all. The effect did not help temper his raging libido.
Damn, he had to make this fast and get the hell out before he did something embarrassing.
The enchantress held out her hand. “Good evening. I’m Amaryllis Kilsgaard. I was told you wished to speak to me?”
This was Briggs’ sister-in-law? Holy hell. Now he really, really hated the Kilsgaard men.
To his surprise her handshake was as firm as any man’s he’d encountered. She might have looked like a fairy princess, but she had the grip strength of an ogre. “Mrs. Kilsgaard, I’m Police Captain Marco DeWinter.”
“Oh,” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and peppering both his cheeks with kisses. “Captain DeWinter. Thank you so much for what you did for Fiona. My family will always be grateful for your assistance with her rescue.”
“Ha. Funny you should say that. I’ll have to remind you of that in the future.” He made sure he canted his hips back so she couldn’t feel the effect of her wiggling against him. He released a mental sigh once she stepped away. “Actually, I was looking to speak to your husband, Lucian.”
She arched her brow. “I was told you asked to speak to the boss. That’s me.”
“Ah.” He rocked back on his heels, certain the little minx was testing him. “Why don’t I doubt that you rule everything around here?”
“Because you are a smart man.”
“I apologize for the error. I guess I should have been more specific with the doorman. I have a few questions for your husband. Is there a quiet place I can speak with him?”
“I can arrange something. Please, follow me.”
As if he could resist following the swish of her backside encased in that pink satin. And he noticed he wasn’t the only one watching her as a few men followed her progress across the room.
Amaryllis led him up a grand staircase and down a long hallway. As they passed door after door he heard the sounds of flesh on flesh intermixed with screams of “Fuck me harder.” Marco didn’t dare look into the rooms with open doors, but by facing forward his eyes were drawn to his hostess’s delectable ass. No matter where he looked, he was fucked.
“Is this your first visit to The Cavern, Captain?” she asked with a glance over her shoulder and her hair falling across her eye with supermodel precision. The smile in her light irises made him think she knew exactly what he had been thinking and thought it was hysterical.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Oh, you must come again for a more social visit. I can arrange a private tour. Show you all the best parts of the club.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. Besides, I don’t go out much.”
“That’s a shame. A balanced life is a happy life. The offer still stands.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll keep it in mind. That is an interesting accent you have there, Mrs. Kilsgaard.” And an awfully familiar one. “Where exactly are you from?”
“Please, call me Amaryllis. I’m from a little village in Sweden. Very remote. Not many people have heard of it. That’s why I love this city. So very different and much more exciting. Are you from here?”
Nice deflection. “Yep. Born and raised.”
“Local son done well. Good for you, Captain. Right this way.”
Amaryllis breezed through the only doorway guarded by a bouncer. More on the cautious side, he paused at the entrance and surveyed the interior.
The change from the loud, boisterous first floor to the mellow, almost tranquil private suite was a jolt to his senses. The plush interior was large enough to hold a party of fifty. A fully stocked bar of black granite and gold fittings was to his left and fed into another dance floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sniper’s view of the crowd below and a stripper’s pole anchored each corner with clusters of chairs and chaise lounges in different sizes awaiting their next show.
Instead of the orgy he expected, only two other fully dressed couples were in attendance, lounging on the floor against huge crimson and white throw pillows and sipping goblets of red wine. On the floor in front of them lay a Twister board. Okay. Maybe they were a little kinky.
“Come on in, Captain.” Amaryllis winked. “We don’t bite.”
The man who approached him was most certainly Lucian Kilsgaard. Standing at over six and a half feet tall, he had the same massive build and freakishly good looks as the rest of his family. After Amaryllis made the introductions, Marco found his hand engulfed between two massive paws.
“Captain DeWinter, it is good to meet you,” Kilsgaard said with an accent that was reminiscent of his wife’s. Jesus, was it possible the entire family was capable of being supers? “We can’t thank you enough for the assistance you provided last year.”
“You’re welcome, but I was just doing my job. I saw that the Chameleon and Fiona were married recently. Congratulations.” He kept his smile pleasant as he waited for the verbal grenade to detonate.
The couple exchanged a quick glance and Lucian’s hands stilled mid-handshake. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Fiona married my cousin Dhavin. The Chameleon ended his relationship with Fiona after her rescue. He felt she was safer without him in her life. She began dating my cousin sometime thereafter.”
So that was their story. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Your cousin is a similar size to the Chameleon, and I have to admit, I don’t meet very many guys as big as the men in your family.”
“It’s genetics. The women in our family are very strong. Have to be to birth us men.” Kilsgaard motioned to a seating area away from the other couples and took a place on the couch. His wife tucked her feet beneath her butt as she curled up at his side. “How can I assist you, Captain?”
Marco took a seat in a buttery leather chair across from the lovey-dovey pair. “It appears as if masked crusaders are not exclusive to your former hometown of Cedar. There’s a man running around interfering in police work. I’ve been ta
sked to bring him in before someone gets hurt, or killed.”
“I have heard this is an issue most metropolises are facing recently. Average citizens doing what they can to take back their streets. I agree, it is a potentially dangerous situation.”
“Yes, but the man I’m looking for is not an average citizen. Just like the Chameleon is not an average citizen. In fact, there is a lot about the two men that is strikingly similar.”
There was a telltale widening of his eyes for a split second, but his features remained politely interested. “Do you think they are one and the same?”
“No, I don’t. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew of each other. Were maybe even related.” Pussyfooting around was not his style. Time to shoot for the bull’s-eye. “Tell me, Mr. Kilsgaard. Do you know if the Chameleon may have any associates or relatives in the city?”
“None that I am aware of. Then again, the Chameleon is not exactly what you would call a sharer. He’s a very private individual.”
“So I’ve gathered. Where were you the night of the tenth between the hours of 11:15 p.m. and midnight?”
He arched a dark brow and his lips softened into a knowing smirk. “I was at home with my wife.”
“And what were you doing?”
“Fucking,” Amaryllis answered and stroked her hand down her husband’s chest. “It’s our usual routine. You can ask anyone in the building. We aren’t exactly quiet.”
“I see.” Marco worked to clear his suddenly tight throat. Great, now he’d have to live with that image burned into his brain for the rest of his life. That was one hell of an alibi. And not one he’d want to question. The answers would probably make him depressed.
He withdrew a business card from the inside of his jacket pocket and handed it to Kilsgaard. “I’m sure if you ask your sister-in-law, she will reiterate the importance of getting this vigilante off the street. I don’t need to deal with a body count because someone took it upon themselves to take police matters into their own hands. With this nightclub, you two have the ability to keep your ear to the ground, so to speak. If you hear of anything that can help me keep our streets safe, please, give me a call.”
“Of course, Captain.”
When Lucian pocketed the card, Marco stood. “Thank you for your time. I can see myself out.”
Amaryllis followed him to the doorway. “Good luck, Captain. I look forward to your next visit.”
The certainty in her statement sent warning bells through his head. “What makes you so certain I’ll be back?”
“Do you not know The Cavern’s motto? All who enter receive exactly what they need.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Well, I do need to catch this criminal, so if information leads me back here, you bet I’ll be back.”
Her lyrical laughter made his breath catch and her palm against his cheek was soft and warm. “No, Captain. Apprehending the vigilante is what you want, not what you need. When you are ready, you’ll be back. Good night.”
He watched her skip to her husband’s side with a serious case of the creepazoids slithering down his spine. Yep, there was definitely something strange going on with this family.
With the Kilsgaards occupied and no security guard on his ass, Marco took his sweet time making his way to the exit. Of course he believed the couple’s alibi for the night of the jewelry heist. If he had a wife like Amaryllis, he’d never let her leave the bed either. But the two were holding back information. He could almost smell it on them. If he kept his eyes open, he was bound to strike gold.
Deep down in his gut, he knew that finding evidence on The Hood wasn’t his only reason for poking his nose around the club. This place was a trip and he was a red-blooded man who had only had his hand for a girlfriend for far too long. If this was to be his only chance to walk around unattended, damn straight he was going to take a gander at what exactly went down in The Cavern.
Most of the doors he passed were shut, and the ones that were opened led to empty rooms, save for some kinky-looking furniture. Disappointing but not surprising. It was a weeknight, after all.
A hulking shadow stomped down the hall in his direction, and Marco stepped to the side for the man to pass, only to do a double take as the figure drew closer.
Black denim jacket over a hooded sweatshirt.
The stranger was at least as tall as Lucian Kilsgaard and just as beefy with broad shoulders that appeared to span the width of the walkway. They shared similar coloring and the same square-cut features that reminded him of the comic book superheroes he read as a kid. The stern set of the man’s jaw and intense focus of his gaze was a warning to all to get out of the way or become a stain on the hardwood.
Motherfucker. This had to be his guy. Adrenaline spiked in his body and made his muscles twitch to follow, but he held back, waiting several heartbeats before setting off in the same direction. The video footage of The Hood showed lightning-fast reflexes, and after Amaryllis Kilsgaard’s spooky predictions, who knew what else this guy was capable of.
The Hood stepped into a vacant room and Marco held back, pressing against the wall with his cell phone out and ready to make it appear as if he were only another club-goer standing in the hall to send a text. Inch by inch he crept closer to the door until he spotted his suspect rummaging through an armoire. Strips of leather fell across his arm, swinging with his movements as he stacked brightly colored bottles in the crook of his arm. From a drawer he pulled out a long ream of condoms and held them between his teeth as he reached for more supplies.
God bless the woman he was intending to meet up with. The beast was suiting up for one intense fuck.
“Excuse me. Can I help you?”
Years of training kept him from screaming like a frightened schoolgirl. At least on the outside. Inside he jumped and shrieked like a four-year-old spotting a spider.
He turned toward the voice and felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Dr. Jovanovich?”
What. The. Fuck?
The only times he crossed paths with Dr. Jasmine Jovanovich was in the emergency room at the city hospital when he had to interview a suspect or victim for one of his cases. Never on any of those occasions did he suspect that underneath the blue scrubs, white coat and ponytail lurked a sex goddess.
Although her stature was on the short side, her legs looked a mile long and shimmered in the soft lighting as if burnished with some kind of sparkles. A black corset cinched in her waist, with a matching leather skirt stretching across her full hips to create the perfect hourglass shape. He had no idea her dark hair was so long as it hung loose past her shoulders and framed her pretty face. Sheer black netting hugged her breasts, highlighting the dark-pink nipples that beaded in the cool air.
Fuckin’ hell. No matter how hard he tried, granted which wasn’t very much, he could not take his eyes off those pretty nipples. It was as if they had tractor beams zeroed in on his retinas. He grew lightheaded as the blood from his big head raced to his little one that swelled with each passing second.
Finally, his brain couldn’t take it anymore and before he realized, he muttered, “Holy shit.”
The good doctor jumped at the expletive and crossed her arms over those fantastic breasts. “Captain. Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. My God, woman.” He scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He really shouldn’t be staring so hard but…damn. “Making house calls?”
She shifted in her strappy high heels and shot a furtive glance around the hall. When she turned back in his direction her dark eyes blazed as she leaned forward to growl, “What are you doing here?”
Whoa, look at the little spitfire. “I’m working a case.”
Oh fuck. The Hood.
He edged back to the door and peeked inside the room to find it empty.
“Damn.” He slapped his palm against the wall. Now what?
The click of heels on the hardwood drew his attention back to the doc who was inching her way back down
the hall.
“Wait up, Doc.” Maybe all was not lost. “You haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
She froze. The straightness of her posture he knew was not caused by the tightness of the corset. After several heartbeats she turned his way and sighed. Her breasts shimmied oh so delicately with the movement. As if sensing his stare, she crossed her arms again. “Stop that.”
“Why? You didn’t wear that outfit to not be stared out. Seriously, Doc, I never realized how hot you are. I like this look.” A lot.
“Look, how about we forget this little encounter occurred. Okay?”
“Hmmm.” He scratched at his cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe if…”
Even the flare of her nostrils was sexy. “What do you want?” she asked through clenched teeth.
Oh, what didn’t he want? Was the skin of her inner thighs as soft as it looked?
Focus, man.
Right. “A guy came down this way a few minutes ago. Huge. Black jean jacket over a hoodie. Sound familiar?”
She shrugged. “There are lots of guys around here. I can’t keep track of them all.”
“This one you’d remember. About the same size as Lucian Kilsgaard. Do you know who Lucian is?”
“Yes.”
And… “So do you recognize whom I’m talking about?”
“Not sure.”
Ooo, she was a cagey one. Unfortunately for the doc, he was not above using any means necessary to get what he wanted. With a quick flip of his wrist, he took her picture with his cellphone. The bright flash momentarily blinded them both.
“God, you’re an asshole.” She blinked hard but didn’t move her arms.
“How’s the Wi-Fi reception in here?” He held up the phone.
Her fingers curled into her biceps. “I may know who you are speaking of.”
“What’s his name?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I can’t tell you. Name. Or I press Send.”
“Grrr.” She stamped her foot and daggered him with her glare. “Bale.”
“Friend of yours?”
“No. I stay out of his way and he usually stays out of mine.”
HeroRising Page 15
