Bite of Envy (Just One Bite #4) (8 page)

The women tossed and tumbled, causing waves where the water
had previously been calm. They brought each other to laughing peaks over and
over, enjoying the sensations they could normally not enjoy in the world while
awake. Finally they dragged themselves out of the ocean and collapsed into each
other's arms on the wet sand, kissing and running gentle, soothing fingers over
the sensitive areas.

A sound intruded, and Diandra let out a cry of protest when
Lizbeth disappeared from the beach next to her. She was suddenly gone, with no
warning, and Dia didn't know what to do. For a moment she lay there, lost and
confused, and then she strengthened her will, forcing herself to wake.

Lizbeth was startled out of the shared dream by the ringing
of the phone. Fearing the worst, her suspicions were confirmed when the caller
I.D. said it was an unknown caller. "What do you want, Carson?" she
said tiredly when she answered. She couldn't get angry- she was too frustrated
by his continued taunting phone calls to feel rage anymore. She thought about
not answering, but she knew somehow that he'd continue to call until she
answered, and she certainly couldn't shut her phone off for the night.

Carson laughed. He knew he was ruining her sleep, and he
reveled in the thought. She spent her days trying futilely to pin his illicit
activities on him, and she had her sleep disturbed each night with his phone
calls. It pleased him to ruin her life one small piece at a time. "Oh,
Lizbeth, you sound tired. Did I wake you again? My apologies," he said
sarcastically.

"I ask again, Carson- what is it you want?"
Lizbeth didn't bother to respond to his taunts, cautioning Diandra to stay
silent when she sat up suddenly and leaned closer to hear the phone call. Dia
nodded in response, acknowledging that she wouldn't interrupt.

Carson frowned, looking down at the phone in his hand.
Normally she rose to the bait, but tonight she didn't seem interested in her
usual idle threats and angry responses. "I merely wanted to know how you
enjoyed your present today. After all, I worked hard to make sure you got it,
planting the pills so the case would be sure to tumble into your waiting
lap."

Lizbeth hissed, and Carson gloated silently. Finally, a
response, he thought. He'd been beginning to wonder if he was wasting his very
valuable time tonight. "Her name was Heather Segman," Lizbeth
responded, "and she was not an 'it' but a person. And she didn't fit your
profile, so why her?"

"Because I knew how much you'd want that tender reunion
with Sandra," Carson replied, his tone mocking as it so often was when he
spoke to her. "Didn't you enjoy having her sob in your arms?" he
asked.

Diandra raised an eyebrow at Lizbeth, but stayed quiet.
"Watching me, were you? Boy, I didn't realize how positively dull your
days must be," she responded. She pulled the sheet up over her small
breasts and lay back against the pillows. Reaching for her nightstand, she
pulled out a baggie of blood and punctured it with her fangs. She was going to
need to keep up a supply if these late nights continued. The blood seeped
through her system, jolting her as though it was caffeinated. She felt more
awake and alert, and that was what she'd been seeking.

"My days are not boring, you insolent little bitch. I
was hoping to catch the two of you fucking. Oh well, maybe next time," he
sneered, and Lizbeth rolled her eyes. If this was the best he could do, he was
rapidly running out of material to work with, for which she was grateful. Maybe
he'd finally quit calling.

His next words ended that. "Filling her in was a
mistake, and there will be blood spilled to rectify that. Her days are
numbered, Lizbeth, so if you miss it, I'd fuck her quickly and as often as
possible before you find yourself visiting that particular crime scene,"
Carson said nastily before disconnecting the call.

All the blood drained from Lizbeth's face. "Eamon was
right- filling Sandy in was a mistake. He must have my office bugged, and now
I've made her a target." Putting her head into her hands, she began to
weep. "Oh, God, what have I done?" Diandra wrapped Lizbeth in her
arms and attempted to console her, but they both knew it was a futile effort.
Sandra's days were numbered to begin with, but never more so than before Lizzie
had confided the truth.

The next morning found Lizbeth rushing through breakfast.
She couldn't bear the thought of trying to eat, but she also knew that if she
tended the human side, the vampire part of her was easier to keep in line. So
she drank her baggie of blood, and realized that soon she'd be able to cut down
to once a day or so. She looked forward to it, eager to pretend she was still
human as much as possible. She ate a piece of whole wheat toast with one hand
as she filled her travel mug with the other- she had to get to the office and
have Sandra come to her as soon as possible. Maybe there was a way they could
keep her safe.

Diandra spoke from behind her. "Invite Sandra here,"
she said softly. Lizbeth spun, surprised at the words, and the sincerity behind
them. "It could be like protective custody. She could come here, and we'll
keep her safe. We'll tell Rae to behave herself, and we'll keep ourselves as
human as possible, and we'll find a way to stop Carson, if we have to track him
down and kill him ourselves." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but the fierce
light in her eyes was anything but.

"Oh, baby, I wish we could do that, but I have to catch
him. It has to be legal, don't you see? I need him to have a trial, and be
punished within the constraints of the law. It isn't right if I do it any other
way." She tried to pull Diandra close, but she stiffened and held herself
apart.

"I see a woman trying to do the right thing, and I
admire that. I see a woman who believes in the law, and justice, who will only
be disappointed. He considers himself above the law," Dia said as a tear
rolled down her cheek. "And as long as he believes that, truly believes it
in his stone-cold heart, the law will never win against him." She went to
Lizzie then, wrapping her arms tight around her lover.

Lizbeth tightened her grip, holding Dia close. "I know
you're right, but I just can't live with going outside the law. Not like this-
not yet. I'll try to get Sandy to come stay with us, but she's stubborn and
self-reliant. She won't be made to come- she'll have to be talked into it, and
I doubt she'll listen."

"Try to convince her, but try hard. She's in danger,
and you and I both know this isn't the normal dangerous scenario that reporters
face. She's never dealt with anyone like Carson, and she won't survive him. Not
without help. Talk her into letting us help her." She stepped away from
Lizzie and poured herself a cup of coffee. "I can handle her being here,
knowing what she once meant to you. I can handle it, and I know you couldn't
handle her dying. You'd blame yourself, and that's what he wants. We don't want
him to have what he wants, so this is the only thing that makes sense."
With that, she gestured for Lizbeth to go to work and take care of it. Slumping
at her seat at the dining room table, she smiled gratefully up at Adrian when
he put a gentle hand on her arm.

"That was a kind thing you did," he said simply.
He set a platter in front of her- eggs over easy, whole wheat toast, and a bowl
of raspberries. She didn't know how he always managed to provide her with fresh
fruit, especially when they weren't in season, but she appreciated it
nonetheless.

"It wasn't kind- it was the only thing I could do. We
can't let this bastard win, and denying him access to someone he fully intends
to kill will be a way for us to win, even if it's something as small as
this," she replied. Adrian shook his head but he didn’t argue with her.
Instead, he sat down to his own meal, and they both sent up a prayer, him to
the Goddess, and her to God, that Sandra Willis would listen to reason.

Sandra breezed into the coffee shop Lizbeth had frequented
the other day with the boy, Andrew. She couldn't bring herself to think of him
as anything other than "the boy" even though he'd showed more
maturity in their brief acquaintance than most adults she knew. Lizbeth shook
her head, more to herself than to the waitress who gestured her way with the
coffee pot, silently asking if she wanted a refill. She turned her attention to
Sandy who planted a friendly kiss on her cheek before sliding into the booth's
seat across from her.

"What's this about, Liz? You sounded so serious on the
phone," Sandy laughed, but just as quickly her laughter faded away and her
pretty face paled beneath her subtle makeup. "Has there been another
murder?" she whispered harshly as she reached across and gripped Lizbeth's
arm with a painful intensity.

Lizbeth shook her head as she patted that tense hand.
"No, not yet," she said sadly. When she saw the confusion work its
way across Sandy's face, she slumped dejectedly in the seat, twirling her
coffee mug from hand to hand, not wanting to drink any more of the delicious
brew. What she had drunk already was burning a hole in her gut, and she
wondered idly how much she'd actually had today. She counted silently, stopped
and shrugging it off when the count came to seven. She was pretty sure this cup
made eight or nine, but it truly didn't matter. She tuned back into the
conversation at hand. "My office is bugged," she said simply, and watched
the understanding wash over Sandy's face. "He called me last night, and
he's made it crystal clear that you're next." She released the mug to grip
Sandra's arm, keeping her from fleeing the booth and the café. "I can keep
you safe. I want to take you back to your apartment. We'll gather up a couple
of bags, and you'll come and stay with us." Her tone brooked no argument.

Sandra shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing in an
artfully arranged riot around her pretty face. "Who is 'us'?" She
asked, curiosity filling her tone. She knew something had changed with Lizbeth,
but she wasn't sure what it was. Another woman, perhaps, she mused. That would
explain why she hadn't acknowledged the innuendos she had dropped in the
office.

"Diandra, my lover," Lizbeth said, and watched
Sandy's eye dim a bit with the knowledge that she was no longer available.
"Also, her daughter, RaeLynn, lives there, as well as Adrian, the live-in.
He's a housekeeper I suppose you'd say, although he's more like a member of the
family. And Eamon pops in from time to time. He's stronger than anyone I've
ever met, and you'd be safe with us," she said hastily, praying she could
cut through the woman's stubbornness and get her to agree.

Sandy shook her head. "I don't need to inconvenience
you all," she said carefully. "I have several safe places I can go,
and I can take care of myself."

"No, you can't," Lizbeth shouted in frustration,
lowering her voice quickly as she drew the eyes of everyone in the café to the
pair of them. "No, you can't, Sandy. Not against him. You have absolutely
no idea how ruthless he is, or how far he'll go to take you down. First to keep
you from writing any stories about him, but mostly he’ll do it to lash out at
me. He wants me hurting as badly as possible, and your death would weigh
heavily upon me. I can't let you go back to wherever the Hell you think it is
that you'll be safe from this bastard. You will stay with us, and we will keep
you safe," she said fiercely, her eyes flashing in anger.

Sandy's face flushed at the tone. "Oh no, you don't get
to talk to me in that tone," she said, her voice taking on that edge of
stubbornness that Lizbeth remembered all too well. "I am not some flunky
you get to order around, and I am no longer your lover. You have no rights to
me at this point, Liz. I will give you the number to the burn phone I keep for
situations like this, and you will know where I'll be staying. That's the best
I can do for you, and it's for damn sure a Hell of a lot more than I owe
you," she said coolly. Her tone was as cold and haughty as any Diandra had
ever used, and Lizbeth fought back a chuckle.

"I'm worried about you," Lizzie said simply. She
watched all that anger and steel melt down to nothing with that one utterance.
"I don't want to stand over your body. You saw Heather's body- do you want
that to be you? Because I can promise you that's exactly what will happen if
Carson finds any way to get you alone. He will do it because he can, and he will
do it because he wants to, and he will do it to punish me for…" she
trailed off and refused to finish the thought. She had wanted to say," He
will do it to punish me for living" but she knew better than to hint she'd
been a victim. Sandy would start digging, and there were so many secrets she
couldn't divulge. "Please, please Sandy, come stay with us. Just for a
little while, just until we figure out some way to keep you from coming to
harm. I don't want to threaten you- I don't want to put you in protective
custody. We both know I couldn't do it without lying, and I don't want to lie
at work. I try hard to be an honest cop."

Sandy sighed. "I know that, Liz. That's what earned my
respect and interest all those years ago. I know how very much your job means
to you, and I also know that you couldn't put me in protective custody without
divulging just why I was in danger." She sat back in the booth, worrying
her lipstick-slicked bottom lip with her teeth as she thought. "If you can
promise me that you'll let me continue digging, you'll let me make my phone
calls from my burn phone, and you'll allow me internet access, I'll come with
you," she finally said.

Lizbeth grinned. "Done," she said with a laugh.
"Let's go gather what you'll need, and we'll make it work somehow."
Lizbeth left a twenty dollar bill on the table, more than enough to cover the
cost of two cups of coffee, as she smiled a goodbye to the older waitress who'd
waited on her and Andrew the last time she was here. The women left the café and
headed for their separate vehicles. Neither woman noticed the black crow
perched on top of the restaurant, watching them with hateful, beady eyes.