Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (12 page)

BOOK: Blood Judgment (Judgment Series)
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“What the hell?” Julian said.

“Rogue. I think he killed her. Come on, let’s go see.”

They approached the body. “Son of a bitch,” Vali said. “I know her.”

“Who is she?”

“Street girl. Name’s Glitter.”

Waist-length, black hair lay tangled around her lovely Latino features. Her fuchsia mini-skirt had ridden up and a black lace thong peeked out.

“She’s a hooker?”

“Duh, dude. What did ya think I meant? That she was a hot dog vendor?” Vali squatted beside her.

“Asshole.” Julian hovered over Vali and the dead girl.

“Poor Glitter. She didn’t deserve this.”

“Come on. We can’t do her any good and we don’t want to be seen with a dead body.”

Vali stood. “No shit.”

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

STUNNED, CHRISTOPHER maneuvered for a better view of the two young males.

He hadn’t seen his son in close to a year, but the long-haired youngster hurrying away from the kill scene was Julian. A no-longer-half-human Julian.

Someone had turned him.

Across the street, the vampire faded deeper into the shadows. He appraised his son. The boy was well-built and good-looking, but the arrogant swagger had vanished from his stride. Now he moved with caution, alert for danger, and he’d traded his tailored clothes for jeans and a simple white shirt.

Christopher kept pace with them, but stayed out of sight. Julian would want a relationship if they met. Nature insured that until offspring reached their mid to late twenties, they clung to their parents. And he had no intention of playing Daddy.

He stopped and waited until they were half a block ahead of him before continuing. Curiosity got the better of him and, remaining well behind, he trailed them to Pioneer Square, drifting through the shadows with stealth the youngsters lacked. Julian wasn’t living in the type of housing he was accustomed to if he’d moved here. But perhaps they were merely passing through.

They slipped inside a decrepit apartment building.

Satisfaction coursed through Christopher. It was a government rent-assisted building if he’d ever seen one. Must be a painful come down for someone used to living it up.

He waited five minutes before entering the building. A bank of mailboxes lined the wall right inside the doorway. He scanned the names, but Julian’s wasn’t there.

He drew in a deep breath, picking up an assortment of foul odors dominated by stale cooking grease. The stench of humans overpowered everything else, but the scent of vampires also lingered in the building. Three distinct signatures. Julian and the other young male. And a female.

He homed in on the female’s scent, tracking it to an apartment halfway down the hall. The scents of the two males came from the same apartment.

Did the female belong to Julian?

Head cocked, he listened. The female wasn’t there.

He spun around and stalked to the entryway. He had what he’d come for.

Besides, he had to get home and change clothes. He was supposed to be on duty, but those fucktards at the Security Center would never know. Not that he would care if they found out. He didn’t need the paycheck for being a Wolf Guard. He just liked the job. That was the nice thing about being an equal opportunity killer.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

JULIAN RAN through a half dozen measures of eighth notes as Saranna swept into the little apartment. Dressed for work in a leather jacket and a way-short skirt that showed a lot of leg, she was a feast he wanted to sample.

“You’ve been playing,” she said with approval.

“Practicing.”

She set her purse and a small bag on the coffee table. “I wish you’d play for me sometime.”

“Really?” He hadn’t thought to ask if she wanted him to play anything for her.

“Yes. I’d love that.”

Warmth crept through him. “Sure. Any time you want.” He wiped the violin off and strapped it into the velvet-lined case.

“Where’s Vali?”

“Went to Ashton’s.” Probably to tell him about their adventures the night before. “Said he’d be out all night.”

And wasn’t that fine with him. He had her all to himself for a change. He put the violin case against the wall, out of the way of traffic.

He planted himself on the sofa and stretched out his legs. “I want to help you out. It’s not right for me to stay here and not pitch in.”

“I hate to tell you this, but no one will hire you. There’s no work for our males unless you know someone to pull strings.” She sat beside him and the skirt inched up a bit higher. “But I appreciate you wanting to. I knew you were a sweetheart.”

“They might not hire me, but they
will
give me money.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked with suspicion in her voice.

He stifled the grin that wanted to curl his lips. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to get myself in trouble.”

“Better not. Humans don’t appreciate vampires trying to get one over on them.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. I need to borrow some of your makeup though.”

“Okay, what are you up to?”

“You’ll see. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

She leaned against him and closed her eyes. “I hope so. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her concern touched him. He drew in her fragrance, trying to ferret out the evidence of her interest. But he only detected her normal sweet scent.

“Did you ever think about finding your father?” she asked.

“Not seriously. I don’t even know if he’s alive or anywhere around here.” Besides, he didn’t know if he was ready to introduce himself to a stranger as his long lost son.

She fiddled with the TV remote, turning it over in her hands. “Don’t you want to know your father and your bloodline?”

“If he’s alive, he never bothered to find me. Why should I think he’d want me showing up now?”

“He’d probably be happy to see you. You’re his son.” She flipped through the local channels and stopped on a news program.

“I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”

“You don’t know why he wasn’t part of your life. Maybe your mother stopped him. She obviously didn’t want you to know you were cross-bred.”

“Maybe.” He wanted to believe it. “I wouldn’t know where or how to look for him though.” What if his father was alive? What if he found him?

“How about with your birth certificate? What’s your father’s listed name?”

“Christopher Wilkes. A regular kind of guy name.”

“I’ve never heard of his family name, but that doesn’t mean anything. Most of us don’t use family names anyway. It’s only done when there’s a business need or a human’s involved. Like your mother. We have bloodline names, but they don’t sound like human surnames.”

“What if I find him and he doesn’t want anything to do with me?” Being rejected would hurt worse than never knowing him.

“It’s a chance you’d have to be willing to take.”

Maybe she was right. She knew more about vampire behavior than he did.

“Did you have any kind of paperwork or anything with references to your father?”

“I had a box of documents my mother left. But I never went through them. It doesn’t matter though, I left them at the apartment.”

“You know what time Tommy’s at the symphony. We’ll go tomorrow and get your belongings. If he hasn’t tossed them out.”

“I don’t have my key.”

Her eyes sparkled. “That’s what lock picks are for. We should have already gone for your stuff. I don’t know what we were thinking.”

It would be nice to have his clothes and a few of his things. If they could get in and his stuff was still there, he would be glad to retrieve some of his belongings.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “You smell good.” She shifted and leaned tighter against him.

His breath caught and warmth curled through him. Having her pressed against him felt right. He wanted to feel more of her, hell, all of her, against him.

She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Want a shoulder rub? You’ll relax.”

Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips.

How he’d like to feel her tongue on his skin—on his belly and on down to his—

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure.” Best not to think too much about what he’d like her to do to him. “Turn around.”

She positioned herself and he began massaging the tops of her shoulders. She sighed and leaned into his hands.

It took everything he had to keep from bending down and kissing her neck. He forced himself to concentrate on helping her relax and release the tension from her body.

“That feels wonderful. If I get any more relaxed, I’ll go to sleep.”

He didn’t want her to sleep. He wanted to spend the evening with her. They had the place to themselves and several hours of night left. Perhaps she hadn’t recovered from feeding him. She’d fed him twice since he’d moved in with them. Maybe that was too much for her in such a short time. “Are you hungry? I mean … do you need to feed?”

“Are you ready for that?”

Ready to feel her lovely little fangs in his flesh? Oh yeah, he was ready all right. He nodded enthusiastically.

She moved closer. Her body heat penetrated his clothing and his own internal temperature jumped several degrees.

To his surprise and pleasure, she slid onto his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rode up impossibly high. Swallowing hard, he shifted and she put her hands lightly on his shoulders. The gold flecks in her eyes mesmerized him.

“I don’t like feeding from the wrist.” She crawled up against him. Her lilac and spring rain scent enveloped him. If she wanted to suck him dry, he didn’t think he would object.

She brushed his hair out of the way and lowered her head. Instinctively, he grasped her sides and held her against him. Soft and warm, she scorched him with her closeness. Her breasts pushed against him and he bit off a groan of pleasure. Fanning his desire, she stroked her tongue over his skin in a moist, velvety caress. Shivering in anticipation, he lifted his chin, giving her complete access, inviting her.

She settled tighter against him and, viper-fast, sank her fangs into his throat. White-hot pain knifed him, shocking him out of his fantasy. She sealed her mouth over the bite and sucked at his vein. The pull and the scent of blood made his heart pound out an erratic beat.

Slowly, the pain faded and pleasure took its place. He slid his arms around her back. She burrowed closer and his tattletale cock hardened in response, pushing against his jeans. He burned to kiss her, to claim her lips and taste her mouth. He’d never wanted anything as badly as he wanted her.

After long minutes, she stroked her satin soft tongue over the punctures. With a low groan of pleasure and desire, he arched into her.

“Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his.

Heat shot through him. Cupping the back of her head, he took possession of her mouth. Her lips were soft and warm. She was perfection and temptation. He ran his tongue over her lower lip, nipping at her, seeking entrance. He had to get inside her. Saranna’s lips parted and his tongue slid in. The essence of blood flavored her kiss, making the act into something he’d never experienced before. With primal urgency, he plundered her mouth, his tongue twisting with hers.

She burrowed her hands into his hair, holding him close. Her tongue ran over his fangs and he moaned from the unexpected jolt of pleasure that zinged through him. With his cock pushing at his jeans, he grabbed her hand and placed it against him. The material wasn’t enough to deaden the heat from her touch. No human woman had ever set him on fire like Saranna did. Needing no urging, she stroked him through the denim. Needing her hand on his skin, he thrust forward into her questing fingers.

The scent of lilacs intensified.

He had to have her. Her scent and the heat coming off her body fanned the flames of lust, burning through him in a wildfire of need. He brushed over the silky material of her blouse, maneuvered under her garment, and stroked up over her ribs to cup her firm breast. Bare skin, soft as velvet, met his touch. A slight gasp slipped from her. His thumb gently caressed the nipple, stroking back and forth over the little bud. She moaned against his mouth and pressed against his crotch. He knew what she wanted and he was ready to deliver.

Saranna felt so good, so right. She fit perfectly against him, as if made for him. And the things her hand was doing to his cock… God, he needed to be inside her, laying claim to her. He needed to mark her with his scent and fill her with his seed so no other male would think she was available.

“Oh, God. Julian,” she moaned.

He abandoned her breasts and traced his hand down her body to her shapely leg. He slid his fingers between her thighs, slipped upward, and found her panties. Groaning, he pressed his fingers against her heat through the thin, desire-soaked material. She moaned and rocked against his hand.

Oh, Jesus
.

He eased his fingers under the elastic, over silky skin, and touched her hot, swollen flesh. She gasped. Meeting her gaze, he stroked over her center, spreading her moisture. He found her most sensitive spot and her breath caught.

“Julian.” It came out on a breathy little moan. She rubbed against his fingers, stimulating herself.

Oh, shit, he was going to come in his pants if he didn’t get inside her. Never had he burned with such heat and desire, such need and wanton lust. He had to claim her. He slipped his hand from her core and moved to push her down on the sofa.

She stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” He panted for breath.

“We’re moving too fast. I don’t think we should go any farther yet.”

He dropped his head against her shoulder and groaned.

“I’m sorry.” She touched his cheek in a light caress. “I’m not a tease. It’s just … we should give this some time.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” His balls ached and his cock throbbed.

“I don’t want to mess things up between us.”

He brushed her hair away from her face, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Was something besides moving too fast going on? “Saranna, what’s wrong?”

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