Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (23 page)

He nodded, but his gaze once more slid over to the exposed parts of her thighs. In response, she crossed her knees. Without warning, his desire for her shot through his skull once more, heating up his groin. His fantasies had been vivid as hell and one of them had involved putting his hands right where one knee rested over the other and easing her legs apart.

He turned away from her and cleared his throat. It would do no good to give his lust free rein right now.

***

Iris’s cheeks were warm but it had nothing to do with embarrassment. She’d basically caught Connor lusting after her and despite their strange shared situation, she liked it. Craved it.

She tried to remind herself that he was a vampire, the enemy of her kind. But right now, all she saw was a man, wearing a snug tank, his tats exposed over muscular shoulders and a flat six-pack that had her fingers itching to touch him. He also wore the BP standard issue black leathers, which did not help her craving. He’d settled his sword, wrist guards and Glock on the table next to her own pile.

She put a hand to her chest aware her heartrate had just spiked. The proximity was killing her and it was time, if possible, to create some physical distance. “I should be getting back to HQ. I need to let Donaldson know I’m still alive.”

The permanent line between Connor’s brows deepened. “But what if he’s part of this, Iris? Everyone knows he’s on the take and you already said he requested you. It’s possible he was directly involved in the assassination attempt since the Trib has the ability to shut any of the bridges down. If he’s involved, he might be under some obligation to send someone else after you.”

She rubbed her forehead. “You’re right. Someone got to him.”

“We need to figure out what’s going on here before we split up. And as it happens, I have a lead.”

He told her about Gary Smith, who Iris knew was called Big Nuts behind Gary’s back. She’d seen him several times and knew exactly why he’d earned the nickname. He had the biggest balls she’d ever seen and for some reason enjoyed showing them off.

He also owned a sex club that featured overweight women called House of Big Sex.

“Why Big Nuts?”

He smiled, probably because she had no problem using Gary’s nickname, as horribly descriptive as it was. “Tammy said she owed him for some blood flame. He’s the one who sent her out to Amado.”

Once more, her gaze moved from Connor’s left shoulder to his right. He was a physically powerful man and was probably her best chance of surviving the night, whatever path it took.

When she’d first realized Connor had started visiting her home, hovering above her garden while she worked in it, she’d Googled him. She found out he’d worked as an engineer and had built over a hundred of the bridges throughout Shadow and Crescent.

She remembered being stunned to learn that a vampire had created anything useful. The fae were the real workers of Five Bridges as well as the dead-talkers. Maybe that was the moment she knew she was in trouble with him.

“Iris, there’s one thing I’d like to know. I’m fully aware that most witches wouldn’t get this close to a vampire without engaging an enthralling spell. Why haven’t you tried one of your witchy trips on me? Tried to control me?”

She rarely talked about these things, about her craft or her philosophy of being a witch. But it seemed appropriate now. “Mostly, I don’t believe in it.”

“Could you do it, though? Do you have that level of skill and power?”

“I do.” A shot of fear went through her. “But please don’t tell anyone.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“There are dark forces in Elegance among the various more powerful covens. Witches who practice the dark arts, summon power from evil spiritual elements that have rooted in Five Bridges. These women, and a few wizards, don’t hesitate to use their gifts to enslave witches of power like me.”

He cocked his head. “Is that why you live such a solitary existence”

“It’s definitely the main reason. I have a healthy fear of vampires, but an absolute dread of dark witches.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“You’ve probably heard of her. Seraphina.”

His nostrils flared and his lips turned down. “I’d kill her if I could find her.”

Seraphina and her group had murdered over a hundred of Connor’s kind in the last year alone. Rumors had it she planned one day to rule the Tribunal with the intent of turning Crescent into a police state.

Still looking at her, Connor narrowed his eyes once more, something he did a lot. His eyes were incredibly blue, his brow as furrowed as ever. “I need to be honest here. None of the criminal encounters I’ve had with witches have ended well. I’ve destroyed many of your kind and thought nothing of it.”

“But my guess is, you only take a life during the commission of a violent crime. Am I right?”

Connor shifted his gaze away from her. His eyes looked haunted. “Not always. There have been a couple of incidences where I was out of control and deserved to be taken out. If you’d seen me, you would have shot me and I would have welcomed it.”

This was a lot of honesty and she wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Finally, she said, “Did these events happen earlier in your life?”

“Somewhat. Yes.” He shifted his gaze to stare at the slate floor. “And they’re my biggest regrets.”

Iris could have pressed him for more details, but she didn’t want to know too much. If he told her, she was pretty sure she’d have to leave. And right now, she needed him.

“I’m not innocent either. When my sister, Violet, was murdered, I’d fully intended on hunting down the vampires who tortured, raped and killed her. If I’d found them, I know I would have used any witch power I possessed to drive them into the dirt.”

“Iris, I’m really sorry you lost your sister. You never discovered who did it?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me when this happened?”

“I’d rather not go into it. I’ve worked hard over the years to let it go. Had to, otherwise I was slowly going insane. But I miss her.”

“I understand.”

She considered him for a moment. “Have you ever killed a vampire?” She knew what she was doing; she was looking for some reason to dislike Connor. The proximity of the situation was beating her down and giving rise to a lot of unhelpful ideas. If he confessed to showing partiality to his own species, she could think badly of him and maybe then she wouldn’t crave him the way she did.

Mostly, he sat so close she had to keep resisting a powerful urge to touch him and to glide her hand over his massive shoulders.

God help her, was she falling for a vampire?

***

Connor felt weighed down by the conversation. He hated sharing the nature of his actions and the why’s of anything he did. Yet he felt a strong need to as honest with Iris as he could. “I have a lot of guilt over some of the vampires I’ve taken out. But each time, I’d caught them in the middle of a violent crime. I’m sure my answer isn’t what you expected, but, yes, I kill my kind as well.”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “I’ve never met an officer like you. Most of the Crescent Border Patrol spit at me and refuse to share details about a scene I’ve been sent to report on. And since we’re being honest, I thought all of you were corrupt. That’s the word on the street that no officer is beyond being bought off.”

He hated the stereotype. “Not me. Not some of my brothers, though maybe half the force is greasing its fingers.”

“But not you?”

“Did you need to ask twice?”

She shook her head and released a whistling sound through her lips. “No. I apologize.”

She shouldn’t be so pretty. That’s what he thought. She had large brown eyes that glinted when she was mad. He’d like to see those same eyes lit with passion.

He knew she was interested. She might even need a good lay, especially someone like her who seemed to go it alone. They were alike in that way. He’d been checking up on her for months and in all that time she’d never gone out on a single date.

His gaze fell to her fingers. She had beautiful hands, the nails trimmed close and covered with some kind of shimmering violet polish. But he had to remind himself that with enough power, she could release a killing shot from the tip of one of those fingers. If she felt justified in doing it, she’d kill him without batting an eye.

He’d be smart to keep his distance, but the proximity tonight had doubled his desire for her. The whole time they’d been talking, he was hiding an erection. What was it about Iris that got to him so completely?

“I’m going to need a change of clothes,” she said. “And a quick shower. Also, you might want to bring some fresh gear with you to my house.”

“Why?” The thought of needing to put on a different set of clothes for any reason, had his groin humming once more.

“Call it an instinct, though it’s closer to prescience this time. Trust me, you’ll need some of your things at my house.”

“All right. I’ll take your word for it.”

She sighed. “But after that, where do we find Big Nuts this time of night?”

A few minutes later, Iris had her arms pinned around Connor’s neck as he flew her through the air. With his arm tight around her waist and her feet balanced on his boot, the t-shirt was drawn up to the bottom of her buttocks. To anyone below, she would have been fully exposed. But Connor had taken them to an even higher altitude than before. This meant, of course, that she was frightened half out of her wits and worked hard to keep from repeating her strangling technique.

Yet at the same time, desire flowed through her once more. Her breasts were flat up against Connor’s muscled chest and as he maneuvered through the air, his pecs would tighten and release, teasing her badly. Each time, she had to repress a moan of pure pleasure. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. She’d had a few casual relationships since her
alter
, but nothing significant.

She’d been married for two years when she entered Five Bridges with her sister. She’d lost so much because of the
alter,
something she tried not to think about very often. Grief was never a simple process and hers, because she’d had to leave a husband she loved behind, was still a decade old, still hurt, and might always be an ache in her heart.

Even worse, she’d been pregnant at the time and the
alter
had taken the life of her little girl.

But holding onto Connor in such a tight embrace reminded her how good life could be. In this moment, she could set everything aside and remember what it had been like to desire someone like mad, to want to be only with him, to need to share his bed.

He slowed down as he passed over Sentinel Bridge. “Take a look, Iris. I know flying unsettles you, but you won’t believe what I’m seeing. I think your bike is still intact. And don’t worry, I have you.”

She hadn’t planned on releasing her iron grip on his shoulders and neck, but the mention of her Trib cruiser had her easing back. When she’d made enough space to see, she looked down. At the same time, Connor slowed in the air.

The first thing she saw was a pit on the bridge about fifteen feet wide. But Connor had been right, her bike was still there, a good ten feet from the edge of the hole. Rubble was everywhere.

Not surprising, though the bombed out section was cordoned off, several TPS officers directed traffic around the gaping hole. The reality was simple; the drug lords only made money if humans kept moving through Five Bridges and spending their weekly earnings.

“You’re body’s grown stiff, Iris. You mad?”

“It seems so disrespectful to Jason and Sadie. Couldn’t the bridge stay closed for five minutes?”

“You know what our world is.”

She sighed and when he began picking up speed, she once more wrapped her arms securely around his neck. “I know, but it really bugs me.”

“I hear you.”

Connor zipped her through the air back to Elegance. At least she didn’t have to give him directions, a thought that made her chuckle. Was it only a couple of hours ago that she’d looked up into the night sky, hunting for him?

“Something funny?”

“I’m not sure. It’s hard to know how to react to all we’ve been through, and the night’s not over yet.” Absently, she ran a finger along the short shoulder seam of his tank. The hilt of his sword was pressed into her right hip and she could feel his Glock against her left.

Connor had given her a canvas bag for her belongings, which he now carried in his free hand along with his own travel bag slung over his shoulder. The man was thoughtful.

When he began his descent toward her house, she suggested he land in the backyard. “I’d rather my neighbors didn’t see us on the front porch.”

“Good idea.”

Slowly, he eased past the huge tree to the small patch of lawn she kept in the middle of her jungle-like garden.

Once she stepped off his boot, she took the canvas bag from his hand, then told him to make himself at home. She headed inside, but left the French doors wide to make sure Connor knew he was welcome to come in.

She went to her bedroom and after closing the door, she planted a hand between her breasts. She could feel her heart pounding. What was it about Connor that ramped her up so completely?

She needed some help calming down. She crossed to the bedside table and lit the small candle beneath a miniature cauldron. The flame would be enough to warm up the water and send lavender streaming through the air. For her, nothing eased her like this fragrance.

The room quickly filled with the edgy floral scent. From her chest of drawers, she withdrew a packet of bay leaves. Taking a small one out, she slipped it under her tongue. Bay had a protective effect and would also support her present need for wisdom. She couldn’t keep the leaf in place for very long, however, or she could easily slide into a vision-state.

She removed Connor’s shirt, folded it up and set it outside her bedroom door. She’d almost thrown it on the bed, which would have been nothing short of a witchy invitation for the man to hurry in here and take possession of her body.

The same earlier sensation returned, of craving Connor desperately. She almost retrieved his shirt from the hall. After all, would it really be so bad to make use of his incredibly muscular body?