by Brenda Trim
Many vampires would have run to Lucius and told him about Ava, but I’m not your average vamp. I’m old enough to know better. While I went to Lucius after I first arrived in his territory, it was out of respect and not because I fear him. I have enough experience to make my own decisions, and was easily able to determine the risk Ava posed.
She shakes her head and lifts one corner of her mouth at the same time as her pupils dilate. “I have the number for a good psychiatrist. He can help with the delusions.”
It seems as if I need to take a more direct, hands-on approach now. My libido stands up and agrees wholeheartedly, ready to fuck her senseless. I need to protect my kind. That’s why I need to spend more time with her. She’s managed to override my compulsions. She also resisted Desmond’s attempts minutes ago. That’s something that shouldn’t happen.
The fire in her eyes draws me in as much as her body and mind. She is a puzzle I suddenly have to pull apart and figure out. The challenge is nearly as enticing as the woman herself.
As an apex predator, I like my women submissive, and I can’t stop myself from thinking what it will take to conquer her. The image of her tied to my bed with her ass in the air and her cheeks pinkened thoroughly from my hand makes my shaft twitch behind the fly of my slacks.
Desmond laughs at Ava’s quick response. “She has a point there, Corbyn. I’m Desmond, by the way, and I'm more than happy to help with your needs.”
I bristle at the way he tries again to get her to accompany him to the dungeon.
Ava makes a show of looking over Desmond from head to toe before she reaches for a drink that I can smell is nothing but club soda with lime. “Is there somewhere here you can take me?”
A growl rumbles low in my throat. I didn’t see that coming. Desmond smiles and runs the back of his hand across her cheek. “There are plenty of private alcoves. But I can’t take you anywhere without knowing your name.”
There is no doubt he is saying that in case he lets her name slip. Vampires can read human minds and now that she’s responded to him, he’s no doubt delved into her head. My dead heart races for a second as I wonder what he will do if he learns she is a cop.
“Name’s Ava.” Her eyes glaze over and her words are wooden, then her shoulders stiffen, and she shakes her head hard enough that her hair flies around her heart-shaped face. “But you’re mistaken. I was curious so when I find the guy who sparks my interest, I know where to take him.”
I know Desmond is talking about the area downstairs reserved for vampires and select humans. It’s where most of our kind feed from and fuck their dinner. As with most vampire clubs, BDSM dungeons are a feature, allowing us to indulge our depravity without killing. Club Toxic is no different, except Lucius is more stylish.
The dungeon gives the perfect backdrop when I dine on someone. It’s been decades since I have had the desire to engage in sex while feeding, but I do prefer to dine downstairs when I feed from a live donor.
Seeing the people secured to various apparatus around the room and hearing the sound of whips, floggers and hands striking flesh incites fear and arousal in donors and sweetens their blood. It changes the flavor from mundane to delectable.
I place my hand over Ava’s and squeeze. “The room is full of potential.”
She smiles at my support, and Desmond backs off then turns to her friend.
“You’re more adventurous than your friend here, aren’t you?” He runs a hand across his mouth, hiding his fangs while he retracts them. I’m glad he got my message. Ava is mine.
I’ve known Desmond for a couple of centuries and have worked with him in the past. He isn’t a scientist at heart, but he has a passion for biology. He’s studied every race on the planet, including animals. When I worked with him, we were studying vampire hunters and their nightshade concoction. Nightshade alone won’t affect vampires, so it was the special blend they created that we were analyzing. Their formula won’t kill us, but it does temporarily paralyze.
I enjoyed the work with him but moved back to the study of human medicines after a decade or so. The breaking point for me came when Desmond crossed a line. He enraged shifters when he kidnapped a couple werewolves to study.
Ava’s friend smirks at Desmond while swaying to the music and pretending to sip her cherry coke. “You lack certain body parts that get my juices flowing.”
I have to laugh at her bravado. I can tell she’s close to Ava. That’s a response I would expect from her. Who is she, exactly? A quick scan of her mind tells me her name and the fact that she is nothing like my Ava. She is another FBI agent, but her mind is linear and easy to understand.
Little goes on beyond the surface of what she is looking at. Observations of physical attributes and actions, little more. Where Ava takes note of everything, from facial expressions and body language down to minute movements, her friend skims over it. If it doesn’t fit their appearance, she overlooks more than she should. She must be new to the force. Time and experience in their field will teach close scrutiny and detailed assessment skills.
The song changes and the beat slows down. The lights that pulse in time to the music follow, creating a sensual atmosphere. The shift makes me want to be closer to Ava. I stand up and reach for her. “Dance with me.”
She blinks, and looks from the hand I’m holding out, to my face. Her mouth opens and closes as the gears in her mind churn. I resist the urge to delve into her thoughts and see what she’s thinking.
I’d rather look at her beautiful face and discover all of her tells. Her forehead wrinkles and her eyebrows dip before they even out and she purses her lips—lips that sidetrack me. I want to press my mouth to hers and force my way inside.
One minute she’s smiling and leaning toward me while the next, she’s frowning and bunching her hands into fists. I don’t have to read her thoughts to know she’s ready to reject me and get back to the task of finding her suspect.
“I don’t dance.” She hides behind her fake drink. “I have two left feet.”
I smile and trace a finger over her shoulder. She’s wearing a gray v-neck sweater and short, black skirt. It isn’t as short as those of most of the women who visit the club, but it’s tight enough to give me a clear image of her shape.
Unfortunately, it leaves me wondering if she’s wearing bikini briefs or a thong. Or perhaps no panties at all. My fangs nearly punch down with that thought. It’s impossible to think of anything else when she’s standing there looking so mouthwatering.
Her slim hips are perfectly rounded, and her breasts aren’t so big they’re busting out of her tight top. The gray of her top nearly matches my eyes. It’s inconsequential and doesn’t mean anything, and yet, I can’t ignore the idea that it’s a sign she and I are meant to be together—at least long enough for me to feed from her and rock her world.
“Well then you’re lucky I’m a good lead.” I grab her hand, refusing to take no for an answer, and tug her toward the dance floor.
She snatches her hand back and wrings her hands in front of her chest. “I can’t leave Bria.”
I give her friend a sultry smile that never fails to turn women to putty in my hands. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Ummm.” Bria shifts from one foot to the other before she shakes her head. “No. You go have fun. There’s a whole other world to see on the dance floor. You miss it every time.”
I could read well enough between the lines of those statements. Bria was telling Ava something. Given that I know their profession, I have to believe it’s likely along the lines of Ava getting a look at the other side of the bar. I can see her looking for suspicious characters while dancing. I have to admit, their ploy is smart. Without knowing more about the women, few would look beyond the face value of the words spoken.
Ava’s resistance is crumbling. I place my palm on her lower back and urge her toward the dance floor. We will likely miss the slow song, but I don’t care. I plan on having her in my arms in a flash. “Let yourself feel. You’l
l enjoy my world,” I promise her with a smirk.
She chuckles, telling me she understood more than what I actually said. Her body melts against mine and I feel her breasts push against my chest enticingly. Her scent sweetens as we begin to sway with each other.
“You’re far too dominant for my taste.” Ava licks her lips and stares at mine for a second. “I don’t trust you enough to allow more. Besides, I’m not one to really submit.” Her hips swivel with mine while her hands rest on my shoulders.
I place my hand across her lower back, hinting at possession. I want to turn her around and splay my hands across her abdomen before I move them up her stomach in a caress.
My mind rejects that idea in favor of forcing her to her knees, where I coach her into freeing my cock then taking it into her mouth. The idea of having her at my mercy arouses me to the point where I can barely hold on to my sanity. Before I grab her and act on my urges, I shut the fantasies down.
I need to figure out the best way to push her suspicions away from Club Toxic. That’s the only reason I’m not trying to fuck her senseless right now. If I give in to what I want before I have her suspicions off anyone at the club, she’ll see too much. She’s got a strong mind. I’m not certain her memory could be wiped. If she finds out about vampires I’m placing my existence at risk. She’s a brilliant woman, who is likely to catch onto something not quite right with some of the patrons here.
“There’s a difference between affectionate acceptance and condescending control.” I caress my knuckle against her cheek. “Sounds like you’ve never experienced the former.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re just dancing,” she informs me.
The song changes to a fast, sensual beat. She cocks one eyebrow and pulls away then takes a moment to assess me with narrowed eyes. Putting a couple inches of distance between us, she turns so her back is facing me. Her hands are over her head and she wiggles her ass in front of me, making me want to spank it and pull her back in line.
I grab her hip and squeeze, moving with her. My cock is pressed against her lower back, adding to the heat of her body under my palm. The only thought racing through my mind is how badly I want this woman. She’s warm, sensual, and tempting me to paddle her ass before I thrust inside her wet heat.
“For now.” I lean close with promise, slowing our movements. For a brief moment, her eyes stop shifting around the room and she’s with me.
Ava drops her head against my shoulder, arching her back. Her backside brushes my groin and she pauses for a beat before grinding her lush ass against my erection. Fucking tease.
Desmond leads Bria to the dance floor right then. Her gaze is rooted to his and she sways toward the other vampire. What a clumsy clod. He’s being too overt with his vampiric abilities. A woman as in tune as Ava will notice. And she might not be the only one.
I put several inches of space between my body and Ava’s. I should push her to leave this place. Her investigation is endangering my kind, and I can’t have that. Of course, I don’t, because I can’t resist the urge to be close to her.
Ava whirls and smiles up at me. “I need a drink. You thirsty?”
“Absolutely parched.” Your blood would be perfect.
She moves gracefully off the dance floor to her table. Though she thinks I can’t hear, she whispers into her purse. “Someone get Tinnea off the dance floor.” I knew Ava would figure something was up. Desmond was sloppy in his approach.
Ava’s request for intervention might backfire. Desmond could do something worse than openly compel a woman to dance with him, and all hell will likely break loose if he makes a move.
I tense when a guy approaches Desmond and Bria. He must be another FBI agent. Desmond’s jaw clenches when he asks to dance with Bria. There are countless vampires around to prevent this from exploding.
I blow out a breath when Desmond lets her go without much fuss. Of course, it helps that another woman turns away from her friend and runs her hands up Desmond’s chest at that exact moment. Desmond kisses the new woman, Bria forgotten.
“Let me get you a new drink.” I wave to a waitress.
Shaking her head, Ava waves to her friend and smiles. “No thanks. I’m heading out. It was nice to meet you, Corbyn.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” I lift her hand and kiss the back of it. “Meet me tomorrow night for another dance?” I pull her close.
Ava regards me and chews on her lower lip.
I focus on her teeth and tongue as she considers my request. Bria is heading in our direction. I’m almost out of time.
Desperation claws at my insides and I nearly grab onto Ava before carrying her from the club. My heart clenches and my mind buzzes. What is this? I can’t regain my focus and rationality. The idea of taking her with me sends an unusual flutter into the pit of my stomach. Dare I say butterflies?
The thought of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to the dungeon might be appealing, but it won’t go over well with her. An ache surges to my cock as I imagine Ava dropping to her knees of her own free will.
Silence stretches out, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. “How does eight sound?” she says at length.
“It’s a date. Until then.” I brush my lips over her knuckles once more.
My heart hammers inside my ribcage like a chained beast, and my fangs punch through my gums. My new science project has no idea what’s in store for her. And no way to fight me. I look forward to making her mine.
3
Ava
Think about something other than SG. You’re a grown ass woman, not a love-sick teen!
Nodding to myself, I grab the bottle of bleach spray and a towel. Work always helps focus my mind. Okay. What am I missing? On autopilot, I run back through every detail in the case files while I spray the sink and grab a sponge. The slightest piece of evidence might be the clue that breaks the case wide open. A single strand of fabric might lead to our killer. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to go on.
Not much in this case makes sense. I stop rubbing circles and throw the scrubber across the room. Having a serial killer who doesn’t follow a type when selecting his victims is frustrating as hell, and eliminates many avenues that have led me to perps in the past. If it wasn’t for the MO, it would be easy to miss the connection between the deaths.
Flipping through the pictures on my phone, I pause when something catches my eye. All the victims are posed on their backs with their faces tilted down. A couple have their heads turned to the right, while another is facing the sky, and the last is only slightly to the left with a large rock close to her shoulder.
I snatch a cup and barely stop myself from throwing it. Deep breath, in and out. I’m tired after tossing and turning until I finally hauled my ass out of bed. Even in sleep, my mind kept ruminating over the case then shifting to dream about Corbyn’s stunning gray eyes. Not exactly a combo that promotes good REM cycles. I check the clock on my microwave and my heart starts pounding so fast, the world spins around me for a second.
T-minus one hour until go time. Shit! Corbyn’s smile has haunted me all day, making it impossible to be productive. Goodbye Saturday cleaning routine. Hello stressing out with clothes all over my bedroom floor. I’m clueless about what to wear and I’m meeting him soon.
Will he whisk me off to that mysterious private corner tonight? My inner sex kitten purrs at the idea. Then the bitch sits up and starts panting. I’d better lock her down or I’ll end up embarrassing myself.
My cell rings and I jump to snatch it off the side table. A smile crosses my face when I see it’s Bria. She’s just the person I need to talk to. I’ve allowed Corbyn’s good looks to cloud my original intent in agreeing to go out with him tonight.
I don’t deny that I’m attracted to him, but I can’t allow my appreciation to go any further. It will be far easier for me to get a feel for club goers if I’m not being approached by guys all night. It will be easier to spot the needle or, in this case, the distant par
tier. Our killer will have shallow emotions. That will come through in his interactions if you know what you’re looking for.
I press the accept button on the screen and bring the phone to my ear. “Hey, B. What’s up?”
“I was calling to see how you’re doing and to ask if you want me and Diggs to go to the club as backup,” Bria offers. I hear dull thumps from her side of the conversation and imagine her trying on shoes and discarding them as we talk. Bria likes her shoes, and rarely gets a chance to wear her favorites. Jimmy Choos aren’t exactly appropriate in the bureau.
I head to my bedroom and wince when I see the mess in there. “No. Corbyn isn’t a threat, and I have no reason to suspect him of anything.”
“Unless you count him wanting to get you naked.” Bria’s voice rose and fell in a sing-song on the last word.
“Stop it. I might have drawn Diggs and Gleason’s eyes, but I’m nothing special. I’m new to the club. That’s the only reason he asked me out.”
“You’ve spent far too many hours at the office if that’s what you think. That man has the hots for you.” Bria’s laugh echoes through the receiver. “You need to wear your red top. It’s clingy in all the right ways. It’ll make your boobs look great.”
“I thought you were worried about me going alone tonight.” Where the fuck is that one? Tossing aside my blue sweater and the new lilac top I just bought to go with one of my suits, I find the red top in the corner of my closet. I usually wear it with the black skirt I had on last night, but I can’t wear that again. Glancing around, I realize I don’t like anything on the floor. When I lift my head, I see my charcoal grey skirt. It’s perfect. The pleats along the bottom add a bit of fun to the tight fabric. Holding it in front of me, I swish it from side to side.
“I know you. You’re going to be more focused on looking for our perp than you are on Corbyn. I don’t like you investigating without backup. You’d better call me if you see anything suspicious. And don’t do something stupid like approach a suspect.”
