Eveillez: Deny Your Blood Lust (8 page)

His resistance made her even more determined to reach him.

"Yes you can," she said. "I can help you." She rose and approached him, keeping her movements slow and purposeful. It would be so much easier to convince him later to accept what he needed if she could get him to succumb to her now. "I can help you not be tired all the time." He stared at her as she slinked toward him. "But you must put away your judgment. Ignore the stigma." Stepping behind him, she rested a hand on his shoulder and leaned down, whispering in his ear, "Open you mind."

His body sank like melted butter into the chair. She felt the tension ooze from him. His skin was warm next to hers, and she was surprised by how arousing she found his scent.

"Let me help you," she breathed.

She saw him swallow a few times.
Don't fight
, she thought.
Just give in.

"Why?"

"I hate seeing a fellow Vampire suffer needlessly," she said, trailing her fingers over his collarbones and down his chest. Her desire to touch him went deeper than just trying to seduce him into accepting her help. She wanted to feel the firmness of his muscles, rake her fingers through the light layer of hair on his chest. She couldn't wait to run them through the hair on his head too, through that the thick mass of tousled brown.

He pressed into her touch. "Vampire," he murmured.

"Yes. Let me show you what your body needs."

Suddenly, the muscles beneath her palm went rigid. Grabbing her hand, he jumped to his feet, spinning to face her and shoving her against the wall. Pinning her there with his body and pressing her hand above her head, he growled, "What the fuck kind of game are you playing?"

Cringing, she swallowed and stuttered, "I-it-it isn't a game." Her heart thundered in her chest, and for a second she was frightened. And very turned on.

He bent, lowering his face until it was inches from hers. "Are you trying to seduce me, then?" he asked, his lips hovering just above hers. "Is that what this is?"

She had to focus, fight through the emotions he stirred in her. Fear, anger, longing … they were all battling within her, making her stomach quiver, her skin tingle. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

Shock crossed his face, and he pulled back. As he looked into her eyes, she saw the emotions she struggled with fighting within him as well. Only there was so much more in those pools of blue. Sadness and torment and guilt. His aura might be clouded with it, but his soul was tortured by it.

Tentatively, she reached up and touched his face. She sought to help people on a regular basis, but helping him was a need deep within her, something she couldn't ignore. She felt him relax at with her touch, and she knew instantly she was what he needed.

Without warning, he grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his mouth firmly against hers, ready, she was sure, to devour her. But just as their lips met, he stopped, capturing her lower lip between his, soft and gentle. She felt a moan tickle the back of her throat, and he pushed his body closer.

She could no longer resist the attraction. Sliding her tongue into his mouth as her hands slid around his neck, she proceeded to kiss him passionately. Urgent need poured from her, enveloping him in a pool of desire. She was helpless to stop it. His body was hard and firm against hers, his swollen cock a rigid mass against her stomach. She needed to feel every inch of his hardness, stroke every unyielding ridge until her body exploded.

The shrill ringing of the conference phone broke through the lust, and he jerked away, shoving her to the side as he did. She stumbled to keep from falling. His chest heaving, he braced against the table, staring at her with deeply furrowed brows.
 

"You need to leave," he panted.

His aggressive rejection threw her already confused emotions into a downward spiraling tailspin. Trembling with the effort to regain control, she nodded roughly before mumbling some parting words and escaping from the conference room.

She could feel eyes on every inch of her body as she attempted to leave the police station with poise, and without staggering. Once outside, the steady
click-clack
of her heels on the sidewalk was a drumbeat to accompany the pounding of her heart.

* * * *

Kevin ignored the phone's persistent scream. Until he had a handle on the yearning Angel stirred within him, he wasn't talking, moving, or otherwise interacting with anyone.

He didn't know what to think. Yes she was gorgeous, but that it didn't explain the weird effect she had on him. He couldn't seem to resist her. If the phone hadn't interrupted them, he probably would have torn her clothes off, laid her on the table, and buried himself deep inside her. Never, never in his career had he ever been tempted to bed an interviewee, and he sure as hell hadn't been tempted to fuck one in the police station.

She wasn't the first beautiful woman he'd ever been exposed to, and he wasn't some horny, teenage boy who lacked the ability to keep his dick under control. The emotions she'd evoked felt truly tangible, like he could have reached out and touched them. When she'd professed her desire to help him, the words seemed to burn a hole straight through his ear and into his heart. Her touch had been pure magic, her voice a relaxing lullaby. It was like she had him under a spell.

He'd love to believe she was innocent. But even if she appeared to be telling the truth most of the time, her contact with Lohr had gone on too many years for her to be as ignorant as she claimed. And she was lying. She recognized the mystery person in the photo. He was sure of it.

Then there was her ridiculous vampire accusation. Lohr had spouted the same nonsense. Did that mean she was collaborating with him? Even though Lohr was under constant surveillance and not allowed visitors besides other than the police or his lawyer, it was possible. What they hoped to gain by trying to convince him he was some type of human vampire was beyond his imagination.

God, but when he'd spun her around and saw the fear in her eyes, he felt like a complete monster. Despicable, horrid. Even more than he already was.

He had no idea how to comprehend the emotions churning in his gut. Was she the enemy or his savior?

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Brian Johnson paused in the doorway, giving him a long once over before stepping into the conference room. "You okay?" he asked.

Releasing his death grip on the table edge, Kevin righted himself. "Sure," he replied, rolling his shoulders and shaking off the last of Angel's spell. Grabbing the loose photos, he stacked them into a neat pile before slipping them into the folder. Johnson was eyeing him like his head might explode any minute. "You need something?" Kevin asked.

"Just wanted to give you an update on our vampire king."

"Yeah? What did you find out?"

"First, the social security number he's been using belongs to a dead man, so we have no idea who he really is. And second, he has pressed charges against Slade. I'm sure the case won't go anywhere, but we had to arrest the poor bastard anyway."

"Nice."

Brian glanced at the folder. "Get anything from Angel?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe she doesn’t know anything."

"I doubt that." He pushed past Johnson and out of the conference room. Tossing the folder onto his desk, he grabbed his coat and headed for the coffee shop next door. The watered down shit they served in the station wasn't doing it for him. He needed a shot of espresso or two if he was going to make it to Angel's shindig at midnight. Dinner probably wasn't a bad idea either.

And he still had Darus' list of coven members to track down and interview. Considering all of them went by pseudonyms, and Darus hadn't known anyone's real name, Kevin had already spent half the day trying to figure out who the hell they were. It appeared another trip to
La Luxure
was in order; the only place he knew to start looking for them. He needed to talk to the bouncer, Kindle, anyway.

* * * *

Angel was used to being stared at wherever she went, but the expressions on people's faces as she rushed past them told her they weren't staring at her for the usual reasons. Tucking her chin and shielding her face with her hand, she was able to make it to the courthouse with some semblance of dignity before she had to duck around the corner. Clutching the wrought iron fence for support, she hung her head and made a desperate attempt to calm her racing heart.

The intense desire that had overtaken her when the detective kissed her was unexpected and alarming. She couldn't remember a time when a man had awakened her senses so intensely. Never had she been struck with such desire, such passion. Not with Armand, not with anyone.

Could she have been channeling? Summoned so much energy in her attempt to seduce him she'd convinced her body the emotions were real? It made sense. How else could a stranger have such an effect on her? Especially one who looked at her with suspicion and distrust.

But she wasn't channeling now, and the desire was still there. He definitely appealed to her physically. His grip strong and forceful, his stubble deliciously rough when he kissed her. And when she'd looked into his piercing blue eyes, she saw so much more than what he presented. He was a shattered man buried beneath a tough guy façade. A man desperate for help. Her help.

She was more determined than ever to reach him. In fact, it suddenly seemed like the most important task in the world.

She couldn't do it in this condition.

Desperate to settle her heart, she forced the air to slowly slide in and out of her lungs. She needed to think, needed to determine her next steps. It wasn't just the roller coaster encounter with Detective McCoy that had her emotions roaring.

She
had
recognized someone in Lohr's photos.

Palm to her chest, she felt the muscle slow. After straightening her jacket and smoothing the front of her skirt, she pulled out her compact and removed her smeared makeup with a tissue. Glancing at the crowd gathered on the corner, she was thankful for the gypsy band diverting their attention from her breakdown. She had to pull it together. Not only to break through to the Kevin McCoy she knew was buried beneath his exhausted body, but for what she needed to do now, what her conscience demanded she do.

Retrieving her cell phone, she dialed. "Ash? Can you please meet me at the studio?"

Chapter Eight

The moment Julia stepped into the apartment after work that evening, she knew something was horribly wrong. Anger and frustration hung on the air like a reeking layer of angst.

"Armand," she called, knowing he wasn't there. She hadn't seen him since their fight the night before. He'd slept in the third story guestroom and she left for work long before he woke up.

Nor had she spoken to him on the phone. It was a void she hoped to heal soon. Not only was the bed cold without his furnace-like body heating up the sheets, she felt surprisingly empty without his companionship.

Surely she could go one day without him. She wasn't that pathetic. Besides, she had a point to prove. Running to his muscular arms and nuzzling into his perfect chest and inhaling his perfect scent because she was
lonely
was not going to help her case.

Setting her purse on the bar, she tossed her coat on the couch before navigating the stairs down to
Luxure
.

The angst was even worse in the bar.

She glanced at Kindle. "God, can we burn some incense or something?"

He wrinkled his nose. "It won't help."

She glanced around the still empty bar. "I thought Slade was coming in tonight. And where's Armand?"

"Therein lies the problem."

She sat on a barstool and he automatically poured her a glass of wine. "Oh God, what happened?" she wondered, taking a drink of the wine and letting out an appreciative, "Mmm." One year and the Pinot Noir hadn't gotten old.

"I overheard something about bail and Slade."

She choked on the delicious mouthful of red bliss in her mouth. Coughing, she took the napkin he held out for her and wiped her mouth. "Bail? I don't get it."

"From what I could understand of Armand's rant, Slade was arrested for assault … against Lohr."

"That's ridiculous."

"I guess Lohr pressed charges."

"Surely a judge will dismiss them."

"Fuck, I hope so."

Julia spun to see Slade pushing though the door, Kate wrapped in his good arm, the other arm still suspended in a sling. He looked a million times better than the last time she'd seen him—in a hospital bed, fighting an infection. If she had any doubts about his Human Vampire condition and need for blood, no matter how miniscule, they were abolished.

She rose from the barstool, ready to embrace them when Armand's deep growl froze her. "If not, we'll get the best lawyer money can buy. You are
not
going to jail for that asshole." Walking in behind Slade and Kate, Armand's expression was dark and angry. He looked downright dangerous.

Any lingering anger she harbored from their argument the night before was shoved aside by concern. She started for him, ready to offer any soothing she could. He held up his hands to stop her, closing his eyes and shaking his head tensely.

She was pretty sure her molars were going to shatter as tightly as she clamped her jaw shut. Turning to Slade, she forced a smile to replace her frown. "I'm sure it won't come to that. I really can't believe the charges weren't dismissed. I mean, considering everything…" She glanced at Kate. One look at the younger woman's pained expression and she wished she hadn't brought up that last little bit.

The evening wasn't starting off too hot.

Slade shrugged. "Apparently I did enough damage to Lohr's face the judge couldn't ignore it." He kissed Kate's cheek. "It was worth it."

"Well, I'm glad you're here." She squeezed Kate's shoulder. Barely giving Armand a passing glance, she turned, retrieved her wine from the bar, and headed back upstairs.

She wished the weirdness with Angel had never happened. She could really use a little yoga therapy. She routinely took classes at Angel's studio. Not just yoga, but some of her aerial arts classes as well. Even without Clare dragging her to weird classes, Julia still managed to find them.

She suddenly missed her sister terribly. She'd only talked to her twice since the wedding. It wasn't by choice. Even though she'd been in Europe for the last month, she still called her sister regularly. Most times she called she got Clare's voicemail.

Retrieving her phone, she hit the speed dial. It didn't even ring and the voicemail box was full.

Frustrated, she tossed the phone back into her purse with enough force it cracked loudly against her keys. Frustrated because she really needed to talk to someone, and frustrated because she was beginning to worry about Clare. Since Julia had moved to New Orleans, they weren't quite as close as they'd once been, but they still spoke on the phone at least three times a week. And Clare was usually good about returning phone calls. If Julia didn't hear from her soon, she was booking a flight to St. Louis.

As her gaze swept over the lifeless apartment (Bubbers hadn't forgiven her for stomping at him the night before and was still hiding), she felt lonelier than she had in a year. Normally, she and Armand would be sitting down to dinner right about then. As it was, she wasn't even hungry.

Locking herself in the bedroom, she grabbed a book from the shelf and purposefully set off to disappear into it.

* * * *

As Armand watched Julia head for their apartment the self-loathing built in his chest until it threatened to crush his lungs. He hated dismissing her, hated the beast building under his skin, hated what he needed to alleviate it.

It was better that he let her go. He'd already used her twice to calm his temper: once in the back of their car right after the incident with Slade in the hospital, and once in the gym. She wasn't his sex toy; she deserved more than that.

Until he figured his shit out, he needed to keep some distance between them. She might think she was capable of handling all of his demons, but he wasn't so sure. And he definitely wasn't ready to show them to her. He didn't think he could face her disgust.

"Why don't you go with her," Slade suggested quietly.

Armand turned slowly to him. "Perhaps you should mind your own business."

"Excuse me? You certainly weren't shy about putting your nose in my business a few days ago."

"I'm not sick and out of my mind."

"You might not be sick…"

Armand pressed his fingers to his temples and tried to quiet his angry retort. Sliding his fingers over his forehead, he folded them tightly together and forced a terse smile to his face. "Are you working tonight?" He glanced at both Slade and Kindle.

Kindle nodded and Slade said, "I got rent to pay."

Armand started to say something about Slade not needing to worry about bills, but realized he could barely stand to be in his skin, let alone this bar. It was better for everyone if the other men worked and he got the fuck out of there.

So he just nodded. "Remind patrons to cooperate with the police if they come by. We want Lohr to
stay
in jail."

"Of course."

He turned and headed for the front door.

"Armand." He paused at the sound of his name. "Don't shut her out," Slade said to his back.

Ignoring him, he yanked open the front door.

"If you were smart," Slade's voice trailed behind him, "you'd heed your own fucking advice."

If he didn't think he'd break his hand, he would have punched the brick courtyard wall.

Slade didn't know what he was talking about. Their situations were completely different. Kate had been a willing and eager savior to Slade's problems. Julia might be willing but unlike Kate, she had no idea what she was getting into. Armand had been trying to hide his dark side from her for the last year, afraid if he exposed it, she'd come to her senses and realize he wasn't who she thought after all.

He wasn't about to bring it all to the surface now.
 

There are other ways to deal with anger
, he thought as he turned onto Bourbon Street.

* * * *

Ash was already at the studio when Angel stepped through the front door. He was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine when she walked in, and jumped to his feet when he saw her, tossing the magazine aside. Concern rimmed his eyes. She could barely look at him. "What's wrong," he asked. "You sounded
off
on the phone."

"We should go into my office," she said quietly as she walked past him. Sitting on the desk, she said, "Shut the door." Most likely, they wouldn't be interrupted, but this wasn't a conversation others should overhear.

"What is it?" he asked, taking a seat on the sofa across from her. Fear and trepidation were all over his face. His swollen eyes evidence Satin's death was still weighing on him. She hated to add more weight to his heavy heart, but she didn't have a choice.

"I went to the police station today."

"They don't think you had anything to do with Satin, do they?"

"Indirectly perhaps. I think they're more concerned about finding Lohr's other victim."

"
Other
victim?" Ash raised his eyebrows.

"The police believe there is another. Lohr had photos of a woman in a questionable state of life." He shifted on the couch. "Is there another victim, Ash?"

"I don't know." But he wouldn't look at her.

"Ash, I saw you in one of the photos.
Drinking
from a woman the police believe is dead." His hands folded tightly together, he closed his eyes. "Ash," she repeated his name firmly and he winced. "Is she?"

If her eyes weren't glued to his face, she wouldn't have seen the nod.

"Oh my God." She didn't plan for the whispered wail that escaped her lips, but the truth sent a fresh wave of anguish through her.

"It was an accident," Ash said quickly. "For me anyway."

"What happened?"

"I'd just gotten to New Orleans and I was lost and looking for guidance. I hooked up with Lohr and that girl came to an event one night. We partied a lot and then Lohr started drinking from her. I joined him and that's when he started taking pictures. She was pretty out of it, but I didn't think anything of it. In the morning she was dead."

"Where is the body?" she wondered quietly.

"We dumped her in the river."

Of course
, she thought sarcastically. Where else would one put a body.

"What did you tell the police?" he asked suddenly.

That he even asked the question disgusted her further. "Nothing. It isn't my place to tell them. It's yours."

"It was an accident," he repeated meekly. "I only drank from her the one time."

"Why didn't you stop him or help her?"

"I didn't realize it was that bad. Lohr assured me she'd be fine."

"You have to tell the police."

"Lohr's already been arrested. Killing Satin should put him away for the rest of his life. What good will it do for me to go to the police?"

"What about the girl's family? Shouldn't they learn what happened to her?" She rose from the desk and sat next to him on the couch. He glanced at her and then quickly looked away, shame joining the tears in his eyes. Even though the last thing she wanted to do was touch him, she took his hand. He'd been too good to her for too many years for her to turn her back on him now. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you could have prevented all of this. You were aware of Lohr's nature long ago. If you'd gone to the police then, Satin would still be alive. Melanie Young would still be alive. You have to accept the consequences of your neglect." She squeezed his hand. "I won't abandon you, Ash. I'll make sure you have a good lawyer. Crow is a lawyer," she added with a small smile.

He wiped at his eyes and looked at her. "You're right. You're always right."

Not even remotely
, she thought.

The love pouring from him nauseated her. "Can it wait until tomorrow?" he wondered. "I swear I will go to the police station first thing. And I know you need my help tonight. In fact," he closed his free hand around hers. She hated that his touch made her skin crawl. She should be more tolerant, more understanding. After all, she knew accidents happened. Sometimes Sangs got carried away. But Ash wasn't a true Vampire. He had no real Cravings. It shouldn't make a difference, but it did. "You haven't fed today, have you?" he continued.

She shook her head before he could go any further. She could barely tolerate her hand in his, the last thing she wanted to ingest was his blood. At
Luxure
later, she'd have a shot. It would get her by until tomorrow. When the wounds weren't as raw, she could face her Craving with a clearer head. "I'm fine," she said.

"Hail…?"

She wasn't sure she wanted Hail's blood either.

The memory of Kevin McCoy's lips against hers suddenly popped into her mind. The taste of his kiss had been divine and she imagined how delicious his blood would be in her mouth.