Downbeat (Biting Love) (10 page)

“Codename Megavamp. Worse, she’s scared. Triana is pretty high up on Mr. Nosferatu’s company ladder. She doesn’t scare easily.”

“Definitely not good.” She sipped thoughtfully. “I’ll have to get Sissy or Rounin to look into it.”

“Rounin?” I knew Sissy. She was one of Logan’s “building managers”, along with Sarge. Both were gorgeous. But while Sarge showed off boulder muscles in sleeveless tees and wore tight jeans molded to his stallion’s ass, Sissy tried to hide her ethereal beauty, wearing big chunky glasses and shapeless suits, her hair scraped into a bun. I kept expecting her to drop her glasses and whip out the hair band and shake her mane loose in that secretary-becomes-
femme fatale
way before kicking butt. Or maybe I’d actually seen her do that one time but Elias had fuzzed it out.

“Sarge is on vacation. Rounin’s our temp,” she said. “He’s a samurai.”

“The guy with the black topknot thingy?”

“Yep. Strictly speaking, he’s a masterless samurai.” Liese shook her head. “First thing out of his mouth when he came was ‘I live to avenge my master.’”

“Yikes.”

“Right? I said he needed a psychologist but Logan says we have to respect his tradition. By the way…” She cleared her throat, her changed music and high color saying she was uncomfortable with whatever she was going to bring up. “About your CIC updates.”

“From Triana?”

“Yes. Be careful. As long as you don’t let on you know about anything, um, pointy, you’re not in danger. There’s an unspoken rule that civilized pointy people don’t kill non-pointy people.”

Which Dragan had also confirmed. “Because…?”

“The backlash. The vengeful mobs. Bad enough when it was pitchforks and torches, now there are all those M16s and bazookas to worry about.”

“I’ll make sure not to let on to Triana that I know.”

“Good.”

The conversation turned to more general things. Liese and I had been friends since grade school and I relaxed and enjoyed catching up with her. “Remember when Junior Stieg caught Nixie with a cherry bomb in the girls’ bathroom, and she tried to get rid of it by flushing it down the toilet?”

“And she blew the porcelain throne sky-high? Do I ever.”

We were laughing and I was describing the geyser in loving, highly exaggerated detail when Dragan glided into the kitchenette.

Chapter Six

Dragan gave Steel the bare facts of the Soul Stealer rumor, and outlined his concerns. To Steel’s credit, he immediately called his lieutenants and arranged for surveillance on the hospital. Steel ran one of the top security companies in the country; Dragan could be assured his people were in good hands.

While Steel went over the technical aspects, Dragan left to find Raquel. He followed her scent, a luscious combination of human female and innocence, to the kitchenette. He paused outside the closed door. His acute hearing meant he could hear the women talking as if he were in the room with them. Their tense, lowered voices meant it was not acceptable to enter at that point. But he listened closely.

Raquel was saying some very interesting things.

She knew about the Soul Stealer. Not only what she was saying told him that,
how
she was saying it shouted it to him. The emphasis she put on words like “sharp” and “scared” said clearer than the words themselves that she was talking about a vampire.

She was aware of the existence of vampires.

Then she said the name,
Nosferatu
.

She was spying on the head of the Chicago vampires. She was putting herself in deadly danger.

Anger rose in him, so swiftly it was a hot geyser spewing through his veins, quickly followed by an ice floe of fear. He threw a palm against the doorjamb to steady himself.

He tried to tell himself it was none of his business. If he rescued every human woman he got involved with, he’d never have time for anything else. This particular human woman had discovered the vampire secret through her own actions. It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t his problem.

Then, as the kitchen conversation turned to schoolgirl memories, she laughed.

Her sweet delight tickled his ears and brought an unbidden smile to his face, and he knew he was lying to himself. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her while they were involved.

He’d simply have to keep his eye on her. Beyond getting her in his bed, that was.

He found the thought of her at his side…delicious. Compelling. He pushed open the door to be with her.

And was completely floored.

I paused in my story and stared at him, filling the doorway in his loosened tie and skinny coat.

He blinked at me as if struck by something astonishing. “You’re smiling.”

“Is that a problem?” My smile died as I puzzled at him. I glanced at Liese to see if she knew what the issue was, found her own smile had subsided to a knowing smirk.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile before. It is quite the most beautiful thing I’ve ever beheld.”

My face heated. “That’s crazy talk. Is it time to go?”

He shook his head, slowly. “Why can’t you accept your beauty, Raquel?”

“Because I’m plain old Rocky. Let’s go.” I rose, intending to take my mug to the sink.

“Raquel—”

“Why does he call you that?” Liese asked.

I stopped. “Oh. Well, it’s my name. At least it’s the one my birth certificate.”

“It’s lovely. Why don’t you use it?”

I shrugged it off. “I’ve been Rocky all my life. Rocky is a good name. I feel like a Rocky.” Why was everyone questioning my name now?

“No, that’s not right. You haven’t been Rocky all your life.” Liese’s eyes tracked as if she were searching a shelf of books in her memory. “Now I remember—in grade school we called you Raquel. It wasn’t until junior high—”

“Thanks for the tea.” I handed her the mug instead of taking it to the sink to halt her flow of words, her spate of memory. “We need to get going.” I turned to Dragan.

He was staring at me with a slight lift to one eyebrow, his black gaze penetrating. With no tea mug to cut off his speculation, I simply grabbed his arm and pulled.

Mistake. The forearm under his coat was steel cables. Heat seared my fingers and the knowledge that I was touching a being vastly different from me slammed into me. As a male, here was the very thing made for me. As a vampire, here was the predator, with me as prey.

I trembled.

Dragan covered my hand with his. “Time to go? Very well. We don’t need to dine at LeLuxe. Where would you like to go for dinner?”

“Well, I…” My voice emerged as a husky whisper and my lips felt suddenly hot and tight and dry. I licked them. His thumb caressed my hand. Everything inside me clenched. The man—vampire—was made of heat and sex. I looked up at him. His eyes were dark on me. A small, pleased and very masculine smile curved his lips, a smile that said he knew everything I was feeling and approved. Any objections to dinner had flown straight out of my head. “I don’t know. Where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere,” he murmured. “As long as you come too.” He emphasized “come”.

“Subtle,” Logan said from behind him. When had he arrived? “Didn’t know you could pun, Zajicek.”

Dragan smirked at the blond man, then turned back to me. “Shall I drive?”

I licked my lips again. They were so hot. “I’d be happy to ride with you—”

Liese clattered dishes in the sink so loud I jumped and spun out of Dragan’s grip. She was staring at me, half amused and half resigned. “Would you guys cool it? The innuendo in here is so heavy it’s pressing on the babies.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean…” All those whispered
comes
and
rides
. I slapped palms to exploding hot cheeks. “I wasn’t aware…I didn’t know…yikes.”

“Of course you weren’t and didn’t.” Amusement won out and Liese smiled. “But some day you will. Someday, Rocky, you’ll be fully yourself, and I, for one, look forward to it.”

Tellingly, Dragan’s first words outside the Steel house were, “You must be careful what you say to whom, Raquel. You’re standing between some very dangerous people.” He took my elbow and steered me down the sidewalk. His red speeding-ticket-on-wheels was parked at the end of the block. “Nosferatu’s reach is far longer than you realize.”

He’d overheard me telling Liese what Triana had said. And he wasn’t pumping me for more, only warning me. In a flash of insight, I realized he knew about the megavamp too.

But when I was seated in Dragan’s car and he accelerated away I stopped worrying about megavamps to enjoy the sensation of my lips being peeled away from my clenched teeth. I managed, “Where are we going?”

“The church. I want to see if I can determine what caused Kevin’s attack. Then I am taking you to dinner.”

A nightmare of dozens of almost imperceptibly different knives and forks and spoons marched along my nerves, each with its own name and use like cheese fork and dessert spoon, none of which I knew. “I changed my mind about dinner.”

“Nonsense. There are fairly presentable restaurants attached to all the hotels I frequent. They know me and keep a table in reserve for me—along with a suite of their best rooms.” He caressed me with a heavy-lidded, just-out-of-bed stare.

If it hadn’t been for the rush of air cooling me like an industrial fan, it would’ve been spontaneous human combustion for me, starting in my Bermuda triangle.

But then we were at Old Red and I put the thought of Dragan’s
suite of best rooms
out of my mind. I mean, we were headed into a church. Naughty thoughts were sure to get me smited.

I started toward my usual entrance, the front door, but Dragan took my hand and led me around the side of the building. “Stay with me,” he murmured as he led me to a small door near the large stained glass window that marked the side of the sanctuary. “I’m not sure what we’ll find.”

“Won’t the church be locked?”

“That isn’t a problem.” He kept my hand in one of his as he turned to the door. A few seconds later there was a click and he pulled the door open and led me into a tiny entryway.

I thought picking a lock took two hands and several minutes. “How did you—?”

“Shh.” He hissed it, his back going stiff. His head swiveled, weirdly fluid, toward the inner sanctuary door; his eyebrows were slashed in anger, his nostrils fully distended.

The elegant beast had a more savage side.

Hand tight on mine, he led me to the inner door and nudged it open.

I followed his glare into the chancel.

Camille peeked under the altar, her black hair shimmering in waves to brush the floor. She wore a thin coat of red paint masquerading as a dress. It was backless, exposing the supple length of her spine. Virtually skirt-less as well; the material was so thin, the spotlight illuminating the chancel shone through, clearly delineating her legs.

My hand in Dragan’s got sweaty. He’d called me gorgeous, but Camille was truly stunning. Now he’d see how wrong he was about me. Now the lady’s man would drop me and pursue her.

Sure enough, Dragan growled.

But to my shock, it wasn’t sexy it at all. It was furious. “Camille.”

She spun straight. Squeaked, “What…?” Her body relaxed. “Oh, it’s you.” Her voice relaxed too, into a deep-throated purr. “Hello, Dragan darling.”

He wasn’t having any. Hand gripping mine, he stalked to the altar, dragging me with him. I opened my mouth to squawk that we musicians didn’t go into the sanctuary, not since the trombonist incident, but he didn’t seem open to argument right then and I shut it. He said, “Was it you, Camille? Did you send a young man into cardiac arrest here at dusk?”

“Maybe.” She smiled pertly. “After all, to make whole legions of males keel over, I only have to breathe.”

“This isn’t a joke.” Dragan seized her jaw one-handed, squeezing the smile from her face. “That young man is under my protection.”

“It wasn’t me,” she said, only it was like “ih wanoo mmeh” because her lips were squished like a puffer fish. Standing right next to her I sucked in her perfume, so sweet it was like breathing raw sugar. I stifled a cough.

“Then you can live.” He let her go. “What are you doing here after I warned you off yesterday?”

She rubbed her jaw. “I heard rumors. There’s a new player in town, and I don’t like it.”

He considered her shrewdly. “Unbelievable. You’re telling the truth. Why this church?”

“I heard the new guy was here and came to check it out.”

Dragan’s eyes narrowed. “Here? Why?”

“Who knows?” But she was frowning past him at me. “Hey. Don’t I know you?”

Dragan palmed me behind him. “She’s of no concern to you.”

“Really, darling?” Camille purred it, and I could tell from that exact shading she thought she’d found a weakness in his armor. “She
is
pretty, if you like that overblown, obvious sort of beauty.”

“Said the bosom-heaving oracle from
300
,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dragan said. “Did you find anything to substantiate your rumor?”