by Unknown
The laughter remained in her eyes. It was obvious that she wasn’t insulted in the least.
Jolie was amused.
In her day, women powdered themselves, used corsets, and did many other things to draw men’s attentions to their bodies. She was accustomed to the attention and did enjoy it. Maybe it was the feminine part of her or the predator, trying to lure in prey.
Like it or not, he was just that to her kind.
Jolie was woman enough to admit that she could feast on the man before her for hours.
Brogan relaxed when he realized that Doctor Harcourte might just be interesting to work with, and not some stuffy old crackpot in a tweed jacket after all.
She heard the thoughts, along with the myriad of ones that were far more sexual and risqué.
Oddly, they pleased her. This man was a conundrum.
“Maybe I’ll wear my old tweed jacket tomorrow, Detective, so I can look more like a stuffy old shrink.”
Brogan sat there motionless as the artery in his neck jumped. There was no way in hell that she could have known what he was just thinking.
It had to be pure coincidence.
Flynn Brogan watched the doctor’s eyes flash at him before she glanced back at the crime scene photos in her lap. He could have sworn that they were reflective like a cat’s eyes.
“What can you tell us from the photographs, Doctor?” Gress asked, noticing that there was some sexual interplay going on between his partner and the woman.
This was going to be interesting, to say the least.
Jolie studied the scenes that were forever frozen on film. “It looks to me like the victims were laid out and posed for the police to find them. I notice the coroner has stated that all the bodies were drained of their blood.”
“True. It was as if someone inserted a straw and just sipped them dry.”
“That’s a great deal of blood, Detective Gress. The human body holds up to five liters.”
“Agreed,” he replied.
Jolie continued, “The crime scene investigators stated that all the scenes appeared to have no sign of struggle. So, that leads me to believe that they weren’t killed there. What you need to be focusing on is how all the victims so willingly walked to their demise.”
“So, they were lured?” Gress asked.
Jolie shrugged. “No one saw anything, and they didn't fight. I know if someone was trying to hurt me, I’d resist.”
Yeah, and rip their heart out of their chest with her bare hand, but Jolie let that go.
Brogan continued to watch her.
Already, Jolie knew who was guilty of these crimes. It was one of her kind, perpetrating the atrocity. “Maybe they were drugged?” she suggested.
“No. All the tox reports came back clean,” Brogan answered.
“We don’t know why they were chosen or how they got there. Do you have any conclusions, Doctor, other than drugs?” the commissioner asked hopefully.
Oh, she had a viable explanation, but she didn’t think any of the men wanted to hear the little story about her species, and their propensity for blood drinking.
“If you want me to focus on that, I can,” she stated, dodging the question.
“Honestly, that’s what has us puzzled. There wasn’t any blood left in the bodies. There should have been blood everywhere if they bled out there at the scenes. How do you take all of it, without spilling a drop?” inquired Brogan, still watching her intently.
The commissioner glanced up from his copies of the photographs. “What leads do we have?”
Gress’s gaze flickered over to his partner, as he wondered if the man was going to hold anything back.
Brogan weighed his options and decided to jump into the deep end of the pool. Besides, he could see how good the lovely doctor was at her job.
“We know that there were a few footprints found near the body.”
“What size, and were they only male?”
“What?” asked Brogan, surprised at her questioning.
Once more, she repeated the question. “What size shoes? Were they male or female?” she asked, rephrasing the questions again, so he couldn’t evade the answer.
“Female.” He stared at her. In all honesty, he never thought that she would pick up on that after only looking at the pictures. The information and his findings on the shoes were in his notes, on his lap.
The two detectives stared at each other.
“The crime lab believes that two sets belong to women and one is a man’s. How did you know to ask if any of them were women’s?” questioned Brogan, his one eyebrow cocked.
Jolie paused, because she couldn’t possibly tell him that most vampires were women, with only a few living males left. Chances were that if there was a feasting on humans going on, it was a female doing it. During their long past, hunters had eradicated a great deal of the males, thanks to the stories written about vampyres.
The women were seen as harmless, and the men were the ones to fear. How wrong they all were. In her species, the opposite was true.
The females were dangerous.
She was a killer.
“It was simply years of studying deviant behaviors, Detective. It’s just one of the first questions that I ask when there is a series of killings. I also like to throw it out there because contrary to popular belief, serial killers aren’t selectively male.”
“I see.”
“Anything else?” asked the chief, trying to keep his detective from saying anything offensive to the woman in the room.
“No. The victims didn’t have any DNA trace evidence other than a few clothing fibers.” answered Gress. He patted his partner on the shoulder as a sign that he understood his angst.
“Doctor, how long do you need to study the information before you can give us something that might help us out?” inquired the commissioner. “We’re under a time constraint here and need to stop the killer.”
“I’ll go home and work on the profile tonight, Commissioner. If the detectives want to come by my office tomorrow around four, I should be able to have a decent profile outlined for them.”
The bosses looked over at their men, waiting for them to accept the offer.
“Detectives? Will that be acceptable for you?” she asked, turning toward them.
What could they say? No wasn’t going to be an acceptable answer for the men in charge.
“We’ll be at your office at four, Doctor. We’ll try not to be late,” Brogan added, taking a shot at her.
The comment on her tardiness wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. Jolie gazed deep into his eyes and found all the things that made-up the man before her. There was courage, kindness, and of course, stubbornness. Flynn Brogan would be an interesting nut to crack.
Where the comment should have pissed her off, it oddly didn't. Jolie knew why he was getting agitated, and it stemmed from the sexual tension between them. She could feel him trying to pull away, inch by inch, to where he could safely observe, but risk nothing.
It was very cop-like of him.
Yes, this was going to be interesting.
Detective Brogan stood, and his partner followed suit.
“Chief, we have some interviews to conduct before we cut out for the night, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay, Detectives. Keep me briefed with a daily report.”
“Doctor Harcourte,” Brogan said, as he nodded and crossed the room for the door. For now, he wanted to get the hell out of there.
His heart was pounding.
His brain was fuzzy.
And his libido was in overdrive.
Getting safely away from that woman was his number one priority at that moment.
Motioning for his partner to follow, he escaped.
Gress also nodded to Jolie, saying nothing more. As both men headed toward the parking lot, that’s when the barrage of questioning began.
“What the hell was that about?” asked Gress, when they were finally safely inside the vehicle.
“I just got
this feeling back there,” replied Brogan. “When she asked about the footprints, it threw me off balance.”
“Uh oh. Are you talking about that ominous cop feeling you’re prone to get?”
“Yeah, that one, I’ve been doing this for sixteen years, and my instincts tell me to be wary of the doctor.”
Yeah, his partner was crazy.
“Really, because I have to say that mine were screaming, trying to tell me that she was the hottest thing on two legs that I’ve ever seen,” Gress admitted, pulling his keys from his pocket. “I bet those legs go straight up to her neck. I’d pay good money to see her naked.”
Flynn didn't bring up the visual that seemed a little too real for his own good. He already swore that she was sexier than sin, and that set him off too.
“Or didn't you notice,” Gress teased.
“Yeah, trust me when I say I noticed,” he answered. Flynn still wasn’t comfortable with the way that she watched him. He felt like he was sinking into quicksand, and she was trying to back him into a trap. “She made me very edgy.”
“Gee, edgy? Because I have to say that she just made me really horny,” laughed Gress, slapping his partner on the arm, waiting for him to admit it too.
He said nothing, because he’d never felt this intense want before in his life. Even with the woman he had just broken up with, there was nothing but lust being satiated. Now, he was pretty sure that he was being driven mad by the doctor in the expensive suit.
“Don’t start the car. We’re not going anywhere until she does,” Brogan stated.
Tommy didn't argue, because obviously his partner was worked into a frenzy.
A French one.
Both men sat silently until they were able to see the doctor crossing the parking lot.
“Damn! Look at that car! It’s not as hot as she is, but it’s damn near close. I bet the top comes down too.”
“Are you talking about the car or the doctor?” Brogan asked, finally grinning.
Tommy Gress just snorted.
The men watched as she got in, and the top did indeed come down.
Gress was definitely jealous. “Seriously! I would kill to not be paid the wages of a civil servant right about now.”
In his head, Flynn was still mulling over his partner’s previous comment. He knew that there was no comparison when it came to hotness. Doctor Jolie Harcourte won hands down.
Now, Brogan only needed to figure out what to do with that information.
After all, he was only human…
∞ ∞ Chapter Three ∞
As Jolie crossed the lot, she took in the last rays of sun hitting the mountaintops in the far distance. At that moment, she decided it was a good night to put the top down on her car. This was one of the reasons why she had bought it. Now, she could enjoy the first kiss of sunset.
It was her favorite time of day.
She could feel her hunger growing and knew that she would need to feed as soon as she returned home. Along with that, Jolie could also feel her power returning as the sun dipped lower into the hills. Everything became clearer and more focused, as if she had just awakened in her own bed.
Popping on her sunglasses, to protect her from the last bit of sun still streaking through the sky, she made the trek home.
“Jacques,” she called to him in her mind, seeking her guardian.
“Yes, Mistress?” he replied, sleepily.
Jolie could sense that he was just pulling from death himself. Lucky him. She wished that she too, was back home and in between the cool silk sheets.
Maybe even with him.
“I need to feed. I’ll be home in twenty minutes.”
“Very well, Mistress. I’ll summon Chloe to your quarters to handle it for you.”
“No, not tonight, Jacques.”
“Louisa?” he asked, feeling excitement and hope filling his body.
“No. Tonight I need blood. I’m drained beyond what I should have allowed.”
“What has happened, Mistress?”
“Jacques, you know me too well. Go feed, and I’ll be home soon to explain.” Jolie cut off the connection. She was exhausted from staying awake all day as she tried to not drain everyone around her. For now, her control was stripped bare. Her first priority would be to arrive home and feed in the way of their people.
Tonight, she would partake in a very ancient vintage. For this evening, she would feed from Jacques. Just the thought of drinking from his body quickened her pulse and knotted her stomach in anticipation.
She could drink from him hourly, and never have enough. That was why she refrained as much as possible. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jolie was well aware that he could become an addiction, so great that not even she could turn from it.
How she could only wish.
Jolie pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. She was very aware that Detective Brogan was somewhere behind her. She continually glanced up into her rearview mirror until she spotted the detective’s vehicle. It entertained her that she had made him that nervous in the office. Jolie laughed, pressing down the accelerator as the warm air whipped her hair around her. If he really wanted to play, she was willing to let him have at it.
Jolie loved a rousing game of cat and mouse.
“Do you think she made us?” asked Gress, watching the taillights of the Jaguar a few cars ahead of them.
“I can’t see how. She would have to know what kind of car you drive.”
“Should we speed up?”
“I would, but just enough to keep her in sight. I think she’s heading to the old, rich part of town,” said Brogan, not surprised that her home was located there. It suited her.
The two men followed for the last twenty miles in silence. Brogan found himself lost in thought as he contemplated what had happened. Desperately, he needed to know what had rattled his cage about the doctor. Something about her put him on edge. He just didn’t know what it could be. Brogan wanted to kiss her and put his hands all over her, but there was that tiny nagging voice in his head that screamed BEWARE. He didn't like the feeling of confusion.
“That must be her house,” said Gress, whistling.
“Yeah, that’s a compound. Normal people live in a house. The President of the United States of America lives in a structure like that.”
“It looks like our good doctor is loaded, and then some.”
“You think?” he asked, as they drove by the house, taking in its magnificent splendor. “Come on. Let’s go get a beer. I need to relax and stop thinking about her.”
“Sure thing, partner,” smiled Gress when his partner had admitted what he already suspected. The babe was under his skin. “I’ll even buy you the first one.”
That was likely the best offer he was going to have all night. “Deal.”
Jolie sat in her car until she could feel the detectives drive past. She wished that she could tell what they were thinking, but she was so drained that she couldn’t muster much energy to hunt out the detective’s mind.
“This is interesting,” she said to herself, smiling. “I make him nervous.”
Jolie headed into the kitchen. Tossing the keys and her briefcase onto the counter, she mentally called out for her guardian. Who knew where he could be lurking? When he answered her, she could pinpoint him in the library, waiting for her. What also lingered was his anxiousness.
“I’m coming, Jacques,” she stated to him mentally, in the way of their people.
“Yes, Mistress. Do you want me to come to you? You feel exhausted.”
“No, I’ll be right there.”
Just the thought of fresh blood excited her, and the fact that it would come from Jacques only added to the thrill and need, swamping her body. It had been almost a month since she had taken blood from him, and she really wanted to taste him again.
She wanted to feel him beneath her body as the essence of him ran over her tongue and taste buds, like liquid gold. Where energy would be sufficient to fix her up, need was l
eading the way tonight. What Jolie wanted was the truest form of feeding between their species. She couldn’t help but feel inexplicably drawn to her companion lately. Jolie couldn’t explain why. All she knew was that she longed to be near him. In fact, their time alone was precious to her, and becoming something that she wanted more and more.
Opening the library door, she found him in there, amidst the rich warmth of one of her favorite rooms.
Jacques stood, waiting as she crossed to him. He loved when she needed blood from him. It called to the deepest recesses of his body and instinctually made him roar to life. Although she rarely requested it anymore, it always thrilled him when she did drink from him.
This was their dance for centuries.
What she needed, he supplied. It screamed of something so primitive and deep, that he was helpless to escape it. Jacques had been with her for over six hundred years, and he still felt the tug in the pit of his stomach at what was about come. As her guardian, it was his job to watch and protect the primus. From the second he saw her, across the clearing back home, he knew it was his destiny.
She was his path, and he had stayed true to it.
He was just fortunate that Jolie was their society’s primus, because it afforded him the opportunity to remain at her side. She was his secret treasure that he kept hidden away in his heart and mind.
“Where do you want me, Mistress?”
“I would like to sit, Jacques. It’s been a long day,” she answered.
Jacques went to the couch obediently. Now came his favorite part of their existence. As he patiently waited for her cross the room, Jolie began shedding her layers of clothes, until she was in just her skirt and camisole. When she tossed her long hair over her shoulder, it fell down her back in a tumble of luxurious black silk.
It sent shivers through his body as he knew what it would feel like brushing his skin.
“Did you rest well today?” she asked casually, feeling the anticipation rising deep in her own stomach. What she wanted was to attack him, crawling wantonly all over his body.
Yet, she knew better.
But still...
“Yes, Mistress, I did. How was your day?” When she stopped in front of him, Jacques had a difficult time catching his breath.
