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Authors: Terry Spear

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Deadly Liaisons
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One of the vampires snickered.
“That negates my interest in the dark huntress.”

“Wouldn’t stop me,”
another said.

“Silence!”
the one who’d original y cal ed her a dark huntress said.

He was the one who intrigued her the most. Since he seemed to be in charge of the others, did he know anything concerning the murders?

Trying to ignore the vampires’ telepathic communication, but not about to take Bernard’s bait, Tezra raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping or something?”

“Senior Member Ingrid alerted me you were here without anyone to watch your back.”

Tezra let out her breath, exasperated that the senior staff already knew of her involvement, but surprised Senior Member Ingrid hadn’t told Bernard to stop her. She’d hoped Bernard had gotten wind of it on his own, the way he often did in matters concerning her, playing his bodyguard role to the hilt.

“If you aren’t careful, Bernard, the renegade vampires wil want to eliminate you too.” If he’d kil Patrico and her parents, why not Bernard also, since he was her bodyguard? She didn’t want the bastard vampires to murder anyone else, and Bernard would be a prime target.

Ignoring her warning, he asked, “How do you know it’s a he?”

No vampiric communication now. Everyone waited for her response. Wouldn’t they be surprised to learn their own words confirmed the murderer was a he?

“Deeper bite marks. Severely crushed windpipe. The vampire who did this appears to have an uncontrol able rage.” No way could she tel Bernard she’d heard the vampires’ communications. Keeping her telepathic and empathic abilities secret was the only way to get along in this crazy, mixed-up world.

“I’l give the senior staff a report on your actions tomorrow morning. They won’t let you continue to conduct the investigation.”

Unruffled, she poked the buttons to the keypad of her Ford Taurus. “It won’t matter now, wil it? I’m already involved in al of this mess, and Krustalus wil continue to come after me. I won’t have a choice
but
to terminate him.” The other also, since she was certain he wouldn’t want her to learn his identity and he’d target her for termination next. She didn’t have the legal right to eliminate bloodsuckers except in self-defense, but if she ever confronted either of them face to face, she imagined legalities wouldn’t be an issue. She yanked her door open.

Before she could slip into her car, Bernard seized her arm. “You need a hunter mate to keep you in line.”

“What? You think I belong to that al -exclusive members-only club? Just because a lot of you feel the female investigators and huntresses should marry only within their ranks, don’t include me, buster.”

Tezra sensed one of the vampires’ anger. Internal y, he bit back a hiss.

The others merely watched, intrigued. Would her hunter bodyguard force her to obey? That’s what crossed their egotistical minds. Except for the one. He was different from the rest, his feelings darker, sometimes hidden, sometimes worn across his chest like a banner for al to see. For now, he barely contained his rage, which total y threw her. Why would he care how Bernard treated her?

She jerked her arm free from him. Hunters could be as arrogant as vampires. “Go home to your concubine.”

The murdering vampire wasn’t watching her any longer. But what if the ones who observed them were in league with the murderers? Al they’d have to do was relay everything she said or did to the others. Faking agitation, she poked her finger at Bernard’s chest and raised her voice, wil ing to do anything to keep the kil er vampire from targeting him next. “You’re
not
an investigator! Leave this to the professionals!”

“Dammit, I know what you’re attempting to do.” His words were couched in anger, and he spoke low for her benefit only.

Bernard growled at her. “You think he’s watching us, and you’re trying to keep me safe. But the SCU cannot afford to lose a bril iant investigator.”

“Bril iant investigator? Why, Bernard, I think you might be interested in me.”

“What’s the use?” He shrugged. “You shun any hunter’s attempt to make you his own.”

“I’m not ready to settle down. Besides, SCU hunters have to keep a squeaky clean profile. None would be interested in a woman who tests the rules so much. Even borderline hunter rogues probably figure I’d get them into even deeper water if they had anything to do with me.”

“You wouldn’t have to settle down completely. Don’t you ever desire something more than this?” He motioned in the direction of the crime scene. Then his cal used fingers touched her cheek, and he leaned down to kiss her lips, his onion breath repulsing her.

“Sorry.” She placed a hand on his chest and stepped back. For now, she was more concerned with how the vampires might see her relationship with him. “Besides, you’re al talk when it comes to settling down. Hel , several women keep your bed warm on alternate nights.” She cocked a brow and his lips curved up. He’d never do as a marital prospect. “Got to go.”

He folded his arms, a frown digging into his temple. “Why the SCU ever selected me to watch over you is beyond my comprehension.”

“They know we get along so wel . Talk to you later.”

He shook his head. “You’l be the death of us both.”

Yeah, if he didn’t keep his nose out of her affairs, she feared one of the murderers would attempt to kil them both. Unfortunately, the stern look on Bernard’s face indicated he wasn’t about to let her do this on her own. She would have to use some stronger tactics of persuasion to convince him to leave wel enough alone, or go underground with this like she’d done concerning the other group of unsolved murders. The SCU definitely wouldn’t approve. Which meant more trouble was bound to head her way.

Glancing in the direction of the buildings where some of the most ancient vampires stil stood, she sensed they represented far more difficulty for her than the Unit could ever dish out.

***

“Another kil ing, Atreides?” Daemon turned away from his twin brother and again studied the SCU investigator, Tezra Campbel .

He’d gained her name from the police officers’ discussion of her when she was far enough away not to hear their crude comments. Not a few of them wondered what it would be like to peel the leather from her skin and expose the beauty beneath, to rol with her under the sheets, to find out if she was as hot in bed as she looked crouching at a crime scene.

The petite brunette tucked her hip-length hair behind her ear, the leather pants molding to her curvaceous legs and the short-waisted jacket showing off one hel of a sumptuous ass. The black turtleneck wrapped around her throat like protective armor.

Daemon found himself wanting to pul it aside and feel the blood pulsing rapidly through her neck, to taste her tender skin, lap up her warm, sweet blood and sense her tremble beneath his fingertips, drawn to his power.

He clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the feelings she stirred in him. Lust, nothing else, he chided himself. Yet, there
was
something about the woman that drew him in, more than her enticing form or resolute determination to take on a case that would earn her the death penalty from the vampire who had kil ed the police officers. Even more than the way she tried to ensure the hunter’s safety should the rogue vampire target him next.

Daemon could have sworn she touched his mind, though normal y humans couldn’t do such a thing. Yet, the gentle stroke he had felt hadn’t come from a vampiress seeking intimacy. If it had, she would have pursued him and attempted to solicit his response. The touch he had felt had been different, like the mist brushing his skin, softly, almost imperceptibly, there. No quest for sexual fulfil ment, no personal communications meant solely for him. Something secretive, elusive and intimately seductive.

She closed her car door, and the engine roared to life.

“Such is the way of this violent world,” Atreides final y said, as if he’d been caught up in the woman’s mesmerizing qualities too.

Daemon’s twin looked nearly identical to him except for being a tad shorter, his sable hair slightly less dark, and his eyes more of a chestnut brown, paler than Daemon’s. Tonight Atreides wore a black leather trench coat, like he always did when he was on the prowl for a new blood bond. He appeared to be in one of his stranger, unfathomable moods. Something was percolating, but despite Daemon’s attempts to catch glimpses of his thoughts, Atreides kept them shielded. Which meant Atreides was up to something. How many times would he have to get his brother out of some misadventure that might get them both kil ed?

“You had nothing to do with this police kil ing either, Atreides?” Daemon asked.

“Why do you always think so il of me?” Atreides pointed to another warehouse. “More of our kind watch, as curious as we are about who’s kil ing the police officers. So what do you think about the new investigator?”

“She’s
not
a regular police officer, but an investigator with the SCU—worse, a borderline rogue, a dark huntress, who is bound to cause even more trouble.”

Atreides’s lips turned up so slightly, only someone who knew him as wel as Daemon did would have noticed. “Ups the stakes a bit for the kil er, don’t you think?”

The muscle in Daemon’s jaw tightened. “If he kil s her, there’l be an outcry from the SCU. No doubt we’l have another bloodbath on our hands.”

The woman’s car disappeared into the fog.

“Many of us liked the good old days,” Atreides said.

“Back to the slaughtering, back to a time when vampires preyed on humans and SCU hunters eliminated any vampire to even the score. An inhumane period of darkness for humans and vampires.” Daemon shook his head. “You’re not stil angry over Uncle Solomon’s death, are you?”

He knew his brother was. Knew the wound stil festered from losing the last of their natural kin to overzealous cops investigating murders committed by a kil er vampire they had
assumed
their uncle had been involved in.

“If you want to help the investigator, look elsewhere for the kil er. You know he’l target her next.”

“She’s offered herself like a sacrificial meal.” Daemon grunted. “A foolishly arrogant notion. Though the murderer wil have a more difficult time of it—she’l be easier to kil than a hunter, but infinitely more of an…interesting chal enge for the rogue than the city police officers.”

“Wil you aid her?” His brother’s lips turned up, his eyes sparkling.

“What do you think?” Daemon couldn’t help the sharpness edging his words.

Atreides hesitated to respond, wearing an odd expression that Daemon couldn’t read.

“You respect their work to a degree, but have no more love for them than they have for us,” Atreides final y said.

“Despite your preference for the good old days, Atreides, I want peace for everyone’s sake.”

If Daemon was forced to, he’d help the woman with her investigation to keep that peace. But only if there were no other alternatives.

A strange sense of foreboding washed over him. No matter how much he wanted to stay uninvolved, he couldn’t fight feeling Tezra Campbel would soon need his protection. Nothing worse than tangling with a member of the SCU who viewed vampires with disdain.

“Don’t do anything to get yourself into trouble, Atreides,” Daemon warned, then headed to the police station to find out more details concerning the kil ings. He’d locate the murderer
without
involving himself with the woman.

At least that was the plan.

***

Except for the second bedroom she’d converted into an office and lab, Tezra’s apartment was cloaked in darkness. Perched on her leather chair, studying samples from two previous kil ings on slides under the microscope, she rubbed her temple to massage the headache brewing there. Too many late-night hours investigating the murders. She took another sip of her coffee and grimaced to find it cold. The phone jangled, shattering the peace and her nerves.

Lifting the receiver she said, “Yes?”

“You…you needed to know about my husband, Officer Stevens?”

“Cynthia Stevens?” Tezra hadn’t thought the bereaved woman would cal her but that someone from the police force would. The sound of the woman’s barely control ed emotions didn’t help Tezra keep her own feelings out of it.

“He…he didn’t wear cologne. My…my husband. He was al ergic to stuff like that. I couldn’t even wear perfume or he’d…”

Cynthia broke into fitful sobbing.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Cynthia. I…I wish I could have saved him.”

“You? What could you have done against the demon? He’l …he’l kil them al .” The phone clicked dead in Tezra’s ear.

He’ll kill them all,
echoed in Tezra’s tired brain. He’l kil who al ? Al the men at the precinct? She slowly let out her breath. Hel , now what? She needed to know what Cynthia knew, but she figured the widow was too distraught to question at the moment.

But the business about the cologne…didn’t it prove that two vampires were present tonight? One wearing her father’s cologne, the other wearing sandalwood? And Krustalus had attempted seductive solicitation while the other vampire was fil ed with rage?

She glanced at her watch. Where the hel were the new tissue samples?

As if in answer to her unspoken query, her front door opened. She knew damn wel she had locked it. It shut with an ominous click. She sat frozen, listening for footsteps. There was no sound save the central heater rumbling as hot air spil ed through the overhead vent.

Slowly, she slid her chair away from the desk toward her sword. A rush of adrenaline flooded her system, readying her for the perceived danger.

Before she could reach her sword, a man appeared in the doorway of her office and silently observed her. An ancient vampire.

Since she had not invited him in, who the hel had? And why had he come through the front door? A game, maybe. To give her warning he was on his way, taunting her. Or perhaps to ensure she was al alone in the apartment, to avoid complications should there be a hunter here to protect her back, lounging in bed, waiting for her to finish her work.

The vampire’s dark brown eyes watched her with unblinking severity. His sinister look and the size of him—six-feet, broad-shouldered—chil ed her to the bone. Dressed in black slacks, shoes and a satin shirt, large-col ared with ful sleeves, he reminded her of a wel -clothed pirate. The buttons opened halfway down his chest revealed a smidgeon of dark brown hair, triggering the notion he was marketing his goods—to conquer, to wil her to him, to sate his hunger. He looked starved while he devoured every inch of her with his sexist glare.

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