Wicked Wild Fantasies

by Shiloh Walker

She sighed and pushed her pink-streaked hair back from her face. “Dude, you keep insisting you’re no Hunter.”

  Bo smiled. “I’m not…I’m just worried about Dakota. She’s a friend. If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t worry unless it was going to present a problem for us.”

  His small pack was just now getting established here. He wouldn’t risk it.

  But he wouldn’t be much of a friend if he ignored that tingle on his spine, either. Dakota had problems coming her way. He didn’t know what they were, but if it was something she could handle, he wouldn’t be feeling this way.

  “I’ll be back.”

  As he slipped through the back door, Marin made a face at him.

  Chapter Two

  Somebody was going to die. Dakota tasted it, felt it. Could feel it clogging her throat and she wanted to kick her own ass. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t felt anything earlier. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t realized anything bad was going down. What mattered was that she hadn’t been doing her job. She had been with Drew.

  Now somebody was going to die. She knew she wouldn’t get there in time to stop it. She could feel the blood. Taste it. It hung in the air like a cloud.

  Idiot. Stupid, selfish idiot. What had she been thinking?

  It was thicker now, the stink of death, thicker as she drew closer to the building, and when she started up the fire escape, it was almost enough to choke her. She heard them. Voices, whispering. A grunt. A soft, broken moan. The air is thick with the stink of violent, angry lust.

  Calling on the shadows, she wrapped herself in them, hiding. Distantly, she was aware of the fading, faltering pulse. The woman, she was dying. I’m sorry…

  The window was open. Dakota hesitated. How do I get in?

  How had feral vamps gotten in? Had the woman invited them? There was some truth to the rumor vampires could only go where they were invited—a person set up a home, set down roots, it gave him a bit of protection. Their protection started to fade, though, when the owner died. This owner wasn’t gone—yet.

  Dakota wasn’t going to wait until it was too late. Focusing her mind, she reached out. As she did it, she prayed. As the ferals were too far into the blood lust, they wouldn’t be aware of anything else. That was bad for the woman, the better for Dakota. She was clinging to life, but only barely.

  Hey, sweetheart. Invite me in. I’ll get rid of them.

  She felt a flicker of surprise from the woman—followed by desperation, determination. This woman wanted to live. Even though her body strength was waning with every drop of blood loss, clung to life. Help me. Help us…

  Us…? Dakota frowned. Then she took a deep breath, trying to filter out the sense of blood. Death, that faint sense of food and something else… another scent, one she knew, hauntingly familiar and tugged at her senses.

  And something—stronger, so strong, it threatened to overpower everything else.

  Death. Not a woman about to die, the people who had already died.

  She didn’t need to wait for this woman to invite her in.

  The people who lived here were already dead.

  Out of habit, Dakota took a deep breath and gripped the knife she had lifted from Bo’s backroom. The Kel-tech was wicked sharp and specially made, with enough silver in the blade to make any vampire very, very sorry.

  The first one, stupidly standing with his back to the door, didn’t survive for more than a few seconds. She plunged the knife into his back as savage jerk of her wrist, shredded his heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  She stared at the remaining vampire where he remained crouched over his victim. “Get up.” She stared at him and twirled her knife.

  His eyes, dazed, all but drowned from the blood lust, stared at her. Dakota took one step toward him. Snarling, she said again, “Get. Up.”

  He might be lost to the blood lust—barely more than an animal. But even animals had the instinct to live. As he came for her, Dakota braced herself.

  Screw it.

  Drew tried to tell himself that, tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. They had ended it. That’s what counted, right? They had even ended it without an ugly, dramatic scene. To be honest, he’d expected some drama. She just seemed the type.

  Maybe he should be happy.

  Fuck that. He wasn’t happy. Damn it, she’d just walked. How in the hell could she just walk? Two years and this was how it ended?

  Okay, so yeah, he’d ended it, but…

  “Shit.”

  He couldn’t forget that no matter what, Dakota it made him feel like nobody else ever had.

  “Shit.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Not supposed to be doing this. Not supposed to be comparing them. Not supposed be thinking about Dakota, not anymore.”

  His future needed to be with Nicole. He knew that. She was what he needed, and pretty close to what he wanted. At least what he thought he wanted. He should call her. He needed to see her—yeah. Go see her. He always felt better after he saw her, after he talked to her. Once he did, maybe this emptiness inside would go away.

  Frowning, he saw the messages on his phone. It was from Nicole. When had she sent it? He tapped the screen to bring up her message.

  Had to go check on a client. If you’re free, might be in your neck of the woods in an hour. Don’t know about you, but I could use the company.

  “My neck of the woods?” He scowled.

  A cold chill ran down his spine. He needed to see her. He needed to be there. Right now.

  “Bastard.” His worthless body fell to the ground and although everything inside her screamed to get to the woman, Dakota paused to make sure the heart was completely destroyed. It was.

  She checked the other corpse and heaved out a sigh. Both dead. Good. Job done. Shittily so, but still done. Moving over to the woman, she crouched at her side and did what she could to stop the sluggish flow of blood.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have been here sooner.”

  There was no response. She was fading. Taking a deep breath, Dakota blinked back the tears, tried to think. Once more, something about the woman sent tugged at her. Familiar, very familiar. Dakota hadn’t met her before—that much she knew. But she had smelled her before. And there was something else, no, someone else.

  “No. Oh, no.”

  Her already bruised heart began to shatter. Her voice was thick with tears as she spoke. “Hey, sugar. Listen, we don’t have much time. I can help you—if you want to live, I can help. It can be weird, and may not be a lot of fun, especially at first. But I can help. You have to tell me you want to go. Do you want it?”

  It was law. No Hunter was allowed to bring another over unless the person wanted it. No, this woman didn’t entirely understand what Dakota was offering her, but if she wanted to live and if she was willing that was enough. Focusing, she waited.

  Hello. Screw acceptance—it was a demand.

  You help me, damn it. Now…

  From the roof, Bo saw the cop coming. Although he wasn’t surprised, he sure as hell was irritated. “Don’t need this mess.”

  There was a reason he preferred to leave the Hunters to themselves. They got involved in things they shouldn’t. They tried to save those they shouldn’t. They tried to help every damn body and half of them couldn’t even help themselves.

  Like Dakota, for instance. Poor girl, down there doing her best to save the cop’s girlfriend. Yeah, Bo knew who was in the apartment building. The woman didn’t live here, but her scent was all over the place. She was here, and she was here often. And because she was, he also smelled the cop.

  Dakota wasn’t to blame for a couple of ferals making a snack out of the pretty lady. She’d done her job, dealt with them. They wouldn’t kill another woman, another child.

  He was pissed off, and yeah, he did feel guilty some poor human had suffered for it. But that was the way of the world. Monsters preyed on the weak. Dakota would let the guilt eat her up, and because she had a connection to this victim, it woul
d be that much worse.

  And here comes the cop. “I do not need this.” Leaping off the roof, Bo landed lightly on the fire escape on the floor below.

  Sighing, he ignored the sarcastic voice in his head reminding him that he didn’t have to be here. Yeah, he did. Dakota was a friend. She had trouble coming her way, trouble with a capital T. He didn’t leave friends hanging.

  Chapter Three

  Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  It was a scream in his head, a song in his blood. Drew lived by his instincts. Like the time he had first seen Dakota—sauntering down the street, all sexy curves, feline smile and attitude. Instinct had demanded he follow, just as his instincts had screamed mine.

  Right now, his instincts screamed danger. They screamed death.

  Everything looked normal as he tore into the Hendersons’ apartment building. Nothing looked off. Nothing sounded off. But something was—the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, adrenaline crashed through him and every muscle inside him was loose, ready for action. His phone was silent. He had called Nicole twice on the way over. She always answered, at least when she wasn’t working.

  He knew this apartment building too well. One of the elevators never worked. The other was slower than smart, and it broke down often. He took the stairs. Five floors up—it only took him minutes, but it felt like years.

  Nic…

  The Hendersons lived at the very end, the two-bedroom apartment housing a family of four. Up until past fall, it had been a family of five. The oldest had run away and gotten involved with a criminal type. When she had tried to leave, the bastard that killed her. The family had proof of their daughter’s involvement, though, and they had gone to the cops.

  Was that why Nicole was here? He didn’t know. All he could think was…Be safe, please be safe. And because he didn’t trust that to be enough, he prayed silently, please, God, keep her safe.

  If any of those thugs had gotten to her, Drew was going to tear this town apart. He wouldn’t rest until every last one of them had been arrested and put behind bars.

  He reached the door, hesitating.

  He couldn’t wait. He knew that. He couldn’t wait… and neither could Nicole.

  Dakota heard the footsteps. More than that, she knew she wasn’t alone. Recognizing his scent, she ignored him. She couldn’t lose focus right now.

  “Come on, sweetheart. You need to take more.” She held her wrist to the woman’s mouth and when she fought to turn her head away, Dakota held it in a merciless grip. She hadn’t done this much to lose her now. The problem was that Dakota wasn’t overflowing with blood of her own.

  A master of the obvious, Bo decided to emerge from the shadows and point that out. “Baby, you know you haven’t fed enough to be doing this. You barely have enough blood to walk out of here.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Staring at the blonde’s face, she thought she saw a bit more response, some animation there. A split second later, she felt the response as the wounded woman started to draw on her wrist.

  Behind her, Bo sighed. A second later, the rich tang of shape-shifter blood filled the air and Bo’s wrist appeared in the center of her field of vision. “Feed, Dakota. You and me got about three minutes before we have company. And trust me, they aren’t bringing us tea and cookies, either.”

  “What…?” She scowled, but she wasn’t looking at him. Staring at the door, she narrowed her eyes.

  “Feed. Now. Her cop is on the way and what do you think he’s going to do when he sees this mess? I’ll deal with the bodies and I’ll handle the blood—throw enough chemical shit on it that no lab in the world is going to be able to get anything useful out of it, especially not vampire DNA. But you and her, you have to be gone…”

  She didn’t wait another second. As the woman fed from her, Dakota seized Bo’s wrist with her free hand and closed her mouth around the wound there. It was already healing, but that didn’t matter. Her fangs pierced his skin and the rich, ripe taste of his blood flooded her mouth.

  It wasn’t even a minute before Bo rested his other hand on her scalp. “Enough, baby. We didn’t have three minutes. Our time is up—that cop of yours is fast. And damn quiet for a human. He’s already on almost on this floor.”

  In under sixty seconds, Bo had scattered the chemicals needed to break down the vamp DNA. Another ten seconds wasted as he gathered the bodies of the dead vamps. In another fifteen seconds, he was out the window. Dakota gingerly pulled her wrist from the woman’s mouth, grimacing as she fought to continue feeding. Already hungry—that was a good sign, Dakota supposed. Showed strength.

  As she gathered the woman in her arms, she looked up and as Bo looked back through the window. “Go on. You need to be out of sight more than I do. I don’t have anything here to come back to, in the end. Your life is here, though.”

  He nodded. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  He was gone in another blink.

  Dakota started toward the door, cradling the whimpering woman in her arms. Soon, she’d fall into the deep, dark slumber that would dominate the next few hours. It would give them some time to get safe—and they needed to be safe—

  Shit.

  She heard the footsteps. And she could smell him.

  Don’t look, don’t look dontlookdontlook!

  Lunging through the window, she peered downward. Five stories. She could jump that. The door behind her opened. Foolishly, she glanced backward. Her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Drew. Their gazes locked.

  Then he looked down and saw the woman clutched in Dakota’s arms.

  As he pulled his gun, the shattered pieces of Dakota’s heart shriveled. There wasn’t anything even left to heal now. “Don’t move,” he warned.

  She shifted to the side, using her body to protect the woman she carried. And then she leaped.

  Still unable to believe what he’d seen, Drew took off running for the window. This wasn’t happening—

  He wasn’t going to find Dakota crouched on the fire escape, carrying a bloodied Nicole around like a ragdoll. It wasn’t happening—wasn’t, couldn’t be. He was seeing things…

  The fire escape was empty.

  Scrubbing a hand over his face, he turned and looked around. Maybe he was seeing things…?

  Except the Hendersons’ apartment was a bloody mess—very, very bloody. There was a faint, odd smell in the air—something like bleach, but not quite. Remaining by the window, he reached for his phone.

  He’d call this in. Then he’d call Nicole again.

  He hadn’t seen what he thought he’d seen.

  He hadn’t.

  If Dakota had been here, she’d either still be on the fire escape or if she’d been able to haul Nicole down the fire escape, he would have either seen her climbing down, or seen them both…no. He couldn’t even make himself think of that image.

  There was a logical explanation for all of this. There had to be. Nicole was at home, or she was out with a friend, or something…Dakota wouldn’t hurt anybody. She didn’t even know who Nicole was, right?

  There was a logical explanation, and he’d find it.

  Except there wasn’t one. And he couldn’t.

  Twenty-four hours passed and as those hours ticked by, Drew was aware of too many fucking weird things.

  All of the Hendersons were dead. The children had been killed in their sleep, the father’s head had been all but ripped off, and the mother had been raped, her throat practically torn open.

  Nicole was missing. Her phone, her coat, her keys, all of them had been found at the Hendersons’ apartment. Her car was parked outside, just down the block. When he tried to track down Dakota at her ‘security firm’ he’d been told she’d turned in her resignation early that morning, as well as relinquishing the key to the apartment they had furnished for her. They were terribly sorry but she hadn’t left a forwarding address, promising she’d come by to pick up any needed paperwork in a few weeks—was there any way they could take a message? Naturally, they told him, the
y’d cooperate in any way they could.

  Warning sirens were already screaming in his head.

  What in the hell is going on?

  Eyes gritty, head pounding, Drew pored over the lab reports, trying to understand what he was seeing. It was just a rough preliminary and it was likely about as conclusive as anything he was going to get, too.

  The blood that had been found in the living room was messed up. Contaminated with something, the techs had told him. Something similar to bleach—that made him think of what he’d smelled.

  But they couldn’t identify the compound. They also didn’t think they’d be able to process the blood. It was breaking down on them—it’s like sludge, Detective. We can’t even get a blood type—never seen anything like it.

  “You know, you can’t work this case.”

  Looking up, he met his lieutenant’s eyes. Then he looked back down at the reports. “I’m not working this case. I’m reading these reports. That’s not the same as working this case.”

  “Just like you calling and hassling the lab techs isn’t the same. Just like you doing door to door isn’t investigating?” Anna Reid lifted a graying brow as she studied him. Sighing, she settled herself on the seat in front of his desk. “Drew, I know this is hard. But you can’t work this. And you need to take a few days off. Go home. Clear your head.”

  “I can’t.” He couldn’t clear his head…every time he even closed his eyes, he’d seen Nicole. Suffering—screaming. Shit, earlier, he’d dozed for maybe twenty minutes and had the most fucked-up nightmare. Dakota had been torturing her. Holding Nicole down on a bed—

  “I can’t.”

  “You don’t have a choice.” She rose from the chair, lingering for a moment. “Go home. Take a few days. I promise, if there’s anything new, I’ll call you.”

  Chapter Four

  Go home.

  Yeah. She could make him go home, all right.

  But the lieutenant couldn’t make him stay. After another one of those fucked up dreams hit him, Drew left. Driving around aimlessly. Until he wasn’t—until he realized he had a direction. On a road heading north out of North Carolina.