Femme Fatale (2 page)

“What in the hell did you do to yourself?” Mick Swayne demanded as he freed her wrist and stared at her with narrowed green eyes. Truly deep and sexy eyes. “Did you file your teeth?”

She had to laugh at that, then she let her tongue skim over the edge of one fang. His gaze followed the movement and she saw the jerk of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “No, Mick,” she told him. “I didn’t file them. They sort of come this way. Or rather, when I’m in the mood for a bite…” And the hot detective was rather tempting. “They extend and sharpen up. It’s easier you see…” Her hand lifted and trailed over his neck. His pulse raced beneath her touch. “So much easier to puncture the skin and drink from prey with sharp fangs.”

He caught her arm in a steely grip. That was one of the things that she was enjoying about him—he was so wonderfully strong.

Tall, muscled, with wide shoulders, and that hard, rough face…he wasn’t a pretty boy by any stretch of the imagination. He was a man who’d seen the dark side of life and had the scars to prove it. A warrior, in a time when most warriors had been forgotten.

A fighter.

He’d be
her
fighter.

Oh, but what she wouldn’t give to take a drink from him right then.
But that isn’t the plan. It isn’t.
She just had to keep reminding herself of that important fact.

“Vampires aren’t real.” He sounded so certain of that truth, even as he stood directly before her.

Savannah barely contained an eye role. “Of course, they’re real. Who do you think has been killing in this city? Draining blood from those two men?” She paused and said, “A vampire.”

“
You? You did it? Is that what you’re—”

Now she
was
getting annoyed. Her sigh cut through his words, and then, in a flash—and mostly to rattle him—she rushed across the room. Only when a vampire rushed, she truly damn well rushed. In less than half a second’s time, she was across the room, a good ten feet away from Mick, staring out of his window and into the night.

There was a stark silence behind her. A few moments passed, and then, a bit hoarsely, he said, “How the hell did you just do that?”

“Easy,” she replied without glancing over her shoulder at him. “I’m a vampire. I drink blood, I sleep during the day, and I move very, very fast.”

The floor creaked beneath his footsteps.

“I can do a few other things,” she added, trying to be honest. Considering what would be coming Mick’s way, she figured a little honesty was only fair. “When you let me bite you, I’ll be able to see into your mind. I’ll find your secrets. Your dreams. Your fears.” Now she did glance back at him. “Vampires use fears against their prey. The same way they use dreams against them. I can become the thing you want most…or the thing that terrorizes you.”

“Bullshit.”

Oh, but he was cute to her. So tough. And that little cleft in his chin was absolutely delectable. She’d like to lick it.

Savannah made a mental note to do just that, later.

“Your fangs are gone.” Now he sounded…stunned. “What did you do? Take them out?”

She laughed, even though he was starting to push her patience. It didn’t matter how sexy he looked with that rough stubble lining his jaw and with that dark, thick hair of his all tousled…they had a job to do, and no time to waste. “How about you watch closely…” Then she turned fully toward him. He was a big guy, a few inches over six feet, but she was tall herself, and with her heels it would be an easy enough matter for him to lean down and kiss her.

If he’d wanted…

He will want me before we’re done.
Savannah was sure of it.

But for the moment…

She bared her teeth. Her
fangless
teeth.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at them.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to taste him right now…

And her canines lengthened. Stretched.

Right before his eyes.

“Sonofabitch,” he muttered.

“Actually, I’m not.”

Mick shook his head.

“Five thousand dollars a night. That’s what I’ll pay you if you take my case. If you help me to hunt the vampire who is hunting in my city.”

He raked a hand over his face.

“He can’t be allowed to keep killing. He’ll start to attract attention to the vampire world, attention that I just can’t afford to have. If humans found out about my kind…well, it wouldn’t be good.”

His hand dropped. “I’m human. You just told
me
about vampires.”

So I did.
But that was part of her plan. “Five thousand a night,” she said again. “Are you taking my case or not?”

“This is insane.”

“You seem to focus on that a lot,” she noted. “Insanity. Craziness. You should get over that. Things are going to move fast for us. You’ll see acts that defy explanation. Things that may terrify you. You don’t get to keep calling crazy every time something odd happens. You either understand and accept that the world
isn’t
what you thought…or you’ll find yourself in some very serious danger.” Danger she wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Vampires,” he whispered.

“Vampires,” she agreed. “And that killer? I think he’s out in the city, probably even out hunting tonight. I want you at my side. I want you to help me stop him.”

“
Why me?”

Now he was asking the right question, but she couldn’t answer that question, not just yet. “Your connections will be useful. You’re just like a cop because of the people you know—only you don’t have that whole must-uphold-the-law bit to hold us back.” The law would definitely get in her way.

Car horns honked outside, and her enhanced hearing easily picked up the sounds of laughter and voices floating up from the street.

“I think the killer is going to come for me, too. So if you take the job, I’ll need you to promise to stay by my side, every moment, until this case is closed,” Savannah added.

A faint furrow appeared between his brows. “You’re in danger?”

She nodded. “Good thing I’m hiring a big, bad human detective to keep me safe.”

The faint lines near his mouth deepened and she was pretty sure his jaw had to be clenched tightly.

“Make it ten thousand a night,” she said carelessly as she glanced around his office once more. “I think you could use the money.”

He growled.

How delectable. Her heart raced faster.

“Lady,” he said.

She looked back at him expectantly.

“Crazy, sane, or vampire…doesn’t matter to me. From this point on, for ten grand a night, you’re my client.”

“Good. Then I think we’d better get started.” She just hoped he was ready for the world he was about to face. If he’d thought that dealing with human criminals was hard, he was about to be in for a heavy shock. “The night is waiting.”

***

Intoxication
.

Even though it was early, barely nine o’clock, a long line of men and women were already circling the block, waiting to get inside the club.

“You would have thought that the little matter of a murder would turn people away from this place,” Mick muttered.

Savannah laughed. “Murder is what drew the crowd. Some people love danger.” She took his hand and cut right through that crowd. She headed toward the bouncer, a big, burly guy with lots of piercings.

The bouncer took one look at her and stepped back. “Go right in, Ms. Moreau.” His eyes narrowed on Mick. “And Ms. Moreau’s…guest.”

Her arm looped with Mick’s, and he tried not to stiffen. The way she was holding tight and close—she was making it look as if they were lovers, and he figured that was as good a cover as any. Especially since he still didn’t know what the hell was really happening. But for ten grand a night…

He’d go with the flow.

Music blasted them when they stepped inside Intoxication. The dance floor was packed, and the bodies were sure gyrating inside. Couples were pressed intimately close and scents—alcohol, perfume, sex—hung heavily in the air.

Savannah led him onto the dance floor and then turned into his arms. She pressed her body tightly against his—so close that he could feel every tempting curve—and she whispered, “I think the killer took both victims from this club.”

He wrapped his hands around her hips. She had one fine ass, and if he was supposed to be playing a role, why not enjoy himself? “Why this place?”

“Because
I
like to come here,” she said. “It’s easy to find willing prey here. When people drink, they’re less likely to remember a bite or two.”

“You think the killer is—what? Setting you up?” But then a thought clicked for him, and he stopped that very slow dancing that he’d been doing. He wasn’t a damn good dancer anyway, and he’d pretty much just been swaying, for her. “Wait, you said that you knew both men. Had you
drunk
from them?’ And why did that thought cause a stir of jealousy within him? He was barely buying into her crazy story, and the last thing he should feel was the sting of a green-eyed beast just because—

“I might have enjoyed a sip or two. But don’t worry, while we’re together, I won’t indulge with anyone else. Promise.”

He shook his head.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Savannah asked him. “And would you please start dancing again? I like to dance.”

She—hell. He started shuffling his feet again.

“You’re the detective,” Savannah said as she curled her arms around his neck and stretched, rather cat-like, against him. “What’s our first move? I brought you to the scene of the crime…”

Now he understood. She really did want him to investigate. And she wanted to be his partner, or something. His gaze slid toward the bar. “In places like this, the bartender always sees what goes on. The bartender watches and listens. If anyone can give us info, it will be him.”

Her head turned and he knew she was staring at the bartender, too.

Only when the bartender saw her, the redheaded guy dropped the glass he’d been holding. It hit the floor, shattering. And then the bartender turned and flat-out
ran
toward the STAFF door on the right.

“Well, that was interesting,” Mick said. He grabbed her wrist. “Come on.” Mick gave chase, moving as fast as he could with his bad knee. When people got in his way, he just shoved them aside. His instincts were definitely screaming at him. In his experience, people ran for two reasons.

They were afraid.

They were guilty.

He slammed his hand on the STAFF door and saw that it led into a small stock room. An empty stock room. Because the bartender hadn’t stopped in there. Instead, he’d headed out the now open back door of Intoxication and into the alley.

Mick immediately rushed out that back door. Savannah was right with him. They cleared the door and—

Bam!

The sharp retort of gunfire filled the air. It was a sound that still haunted Mick’s nightmares. Reminding him of an ambush that had changed his life and—

Savannah slammed into him. He hit the ground because that slender lady had just hit him with the impact of a linebacker. And in the next second, Savannah was falling down on top of him.

His hands came up and wrapped around her shoulders. He could hear footsteps rushing away.

The bartender had just shot at them.
Why?

“Are you okay?” Savannah asked softly as she lifted up, bracing on her hands.

He nodded. She’d just saved his life.

“Good.” She rose to her feet. “Then let’s go get that trigger happy jerk.”

He brushed himself off and pushed to his feet. He started to run after—

Savannah had disappeared. Moved in that incredibly fast blur, just as she’d done in his office. Only then he’d thought that maybe he’d imagined it.

He wasn’t imagining things.

Bam.
Another blast of gunfire sounded and he ran after that sound.
Savannah!
Her name was a desperate scream in his mind as he rounded the corner of that alley. He’d better not find her dead on the ground, like he’d found his last partner. Like he
still
saw his partner in his nightmares.

But Savannah wasn’t lying in a pool of blood.

She had the bartender pinned up against the side of a huge, green garbage bin. One delicate hand was wrapped around the man’s throat and in her other hand, she held his gun.

“Savannah!” Mick shouted. Was she about to kill the guy?

She jerked at his call, and the gun fell from her hand.

He closed the distance between them as fast as he could, and when he got closer, he saw that the bartender’s eyes were wide, nearly bugging from his head with fright.

“
Please
,” the man whispered. “I won’t tell…just let me go!”

“Tell what?” Mick demanded as he kicked that gun farther away.

The bartender was gazing—terror-stricken—at Savannah. “Won’t tell…what you are!”

Savannah huffed out a breath and said, “Seriously, Mick, my patience is
gone.
Question this little jerk. Do your thing. And let’s…let’s get out of here.”

Did her voice tremble a bit? It had, and tension swept through him. Even more tension than he was already feeling.

“Let go of his throat,” Mick told her, keeping his voice calm with a supreme effort. “That way he can actually talk.”
And not just gasp out words.

She let go, slowly.

The bartender immediately threw up his hands, cowering back against that garbage bin. “Don’t kill me!”

“
Don’t tempt me,”
Savannah muttered right back.

Mick grabbed the guy’s hands and jerked them down. “Right now, you need to deal with me.”

Was the guy
crying?
He was! Mick could see the tear streaks on his face, almost glinting in the moonlight.

“You’re scared to death,” Mick said as he released the other man.

“You should be, too,” the guy told him, nodding frantically.

Luckily, Mick had never scared easily. “What’s your name?”

“Will. Will Mato.” He shuddered. “Just let me go. I swear, I won’t tell—”

“Do you know who killed the fellow who was recently found outside of Intoxication?”

“I found the body, man. I
know
a vampire bite when I see one.”