Authors: Shiloh Walker
Tags: #paranormal romance, #erotic romance, #vampire romance
“Sure thing, beautiful.” His smile flashed
white in his dark face. White…with rather sharp teeth. She rolled
her eyes. Bo was a shifter. It was one of the reasons she liked
this pub. He was a decent sort. If she had to slip out sudden-like,
he’d help cover her retreat. As he brought the drink down to her,
he focused on her face, his nostrils flaring a bit.
“You’re unhappy, Hunter.” he said, his voice
too low for Drew to hear. That didn’t keep him from trying. He slid
onto the stool next to her, gaze narrowed on Bo. The shifter
ignored him, stroking a finger down Dakota’s cheek. “I don’t like
to see a pretty Hunter unhappy.”
“Can’t be helped.” She smiled brightly. Then
she reached out and patted his hand. In a voice just as low as his,
she said, “Now stop trying to piss him off. This is going to be
hard enough, ’kay?”
Bo stared at her, then, with a sigh, he
walked off. She took a sip of her drink. Distracted, she glanced
around and saw a business card somebody had left on the bar. It had
a phone number on it. For some reason, it made her even sadder to
see it. Somebody else had struck out tonight.
Taking the business card, she absently
started to fold it up, turning it into a neat triangle. She kept
fiddling with it until Bo slid a Guinness in front of Drew.
Dropping the business card, she took a
healthy drink from her glass and then turned, crossing her legs as
she studied Drew’s face. His gaze dropped, quick as a wish, to her
legs and then shot right back up to her face. Oh, yes. It was
over.
He reached for the business card, unfolding
and it smoothing out the creases. “You did that the first time I
gave you my number.”
“Habit. You know that by now.” She shoved her
hair back, staring at the familiar lines of his face, memorizing
them. Over, it really was over. Damn it, she had to get out of here
before she started to cry. “Look, let’s just get it over with,
baby. I’d rather not listen to whatever pretty speech you put
together.”
The thick fringe of his lashes drooped over
his eyes. “What exactly do you do for a living, Dakota, read
minds?” he asked, his voice conversational. Or it would have been,
if he hadn’t been raising it to be heard over the noise in the bar.
One hand, long-fingered and callused in just the right way, closed
around his glass.
Dakota sighed. It wasn’t the first time he’d
asked, although she knew he wasn’t really asking, this time. “Baby,
you know what I do for a living. Security consulting. We’ve had
this discussion before.”
“Yeah. And I sell bridges in Arizona.” He
took a deep drink from his Guinness. “Do I even need to spell this
out or did you already piece it together?”
“Why don’t you just save me the details,
Drew?” She tossed back the rest of the drink and slid off her
stool, ignoring the concern in his eyes. “I hope she makes you
happy, cop.”
Without saying another word, she headed off
toward the back of the bar. She heard him behind her. Almost
started to turn—she wouldn’t mind one last kiss. Something to give
him to remember her by. But something prickled along her spine.
There was a whisper of warning, those
instincts that made her what she was. Part of those secrets she’d
kept hidden from Drew. As much as she’d love to give Drew that
farewell kiss, she knew she couldn’t. Once more, duty called. She
was needed.
She shot Bo a look. He wasn’t a Hunter, but
sometimes she suspected that was because he’d chosen not to be.
Their gazes met. With a subtle jerk of his
head, he nodded to the backroom. He’d cover her, let her leave in
secrecy, in silence.
As she slid away from Drew, he played
interception.
One last time. Because she wouldn’t be seeing
Drew again.
It all but ripped her heart out to think
about it.
“What the…?”
Okay, he’d come here to break things off, but
he’d wanted to say good-bye, damn it. Was there a fucking reason he
couldn’t say good-bye?
Oh, hell, no
. He was going to at least
do that. She might not be what he needed—even if she
was
what he wanted, but he would have good-bye.
“Hey there, buddy…”
The bartender, moving with an eerie silence
that was almost as disturbing as Dakota’s, stood between them. Drew
tensed, his eyes narrowed. “Step back.”
“Can’t do that, cop.” Then he smiled, quick
and easy. “Not unless you got a good reason for tearing off into
the backroom of my business. You give me a reason, then sure, I’m
happy to let you. I’m a law-abiding citizen, you know.”
“How about you just let my girlfriend go back
there and she’s upset?”
The black man reached up, scraped his nails
down his cheek in a thoughtful, lazy manner. “Well, you see, the
problem there is this…she isn’t your girlfriend. Not any more at
least. You just broke things up. Got another lady waiting for you,
too.”
“That’s none of your business, is it?”
And
how the hell did you know that?
“Your girlfriend? You?” The man shook his
head. “Not a bit. But Dakota, well, she’s a friend of mine. She
walked away. That means she’s done. Let her go. Go on now, man. You
got your own path to follow, don’t you? Doesn’t seem to include her
anymore.”
His golden eyes glimmered in the dim light
and for a minute, Drew would have sworn they glowed. The man’s face
seemed something…other. But then the moment passed and the
bartender smiled. “You gotta understand, man. I just don’t like the
idea of a cop roaming around my place without a reason, but even
less…I don’t want you upsetting her any more than she already
is.”
“That’s why I’d like to
talk
to
her.”
“Talking to her after you ditched her for
another woman isn’t going to make her feel better.” Now he stared
at Drew as though he was the stupidest man on God’s green
earth.
It didn’t help that maybe Drew even felt that
way.
It also didn’t help that Drew had the
weirdest feeling he was making a huge mistake, walking away from
Dakota. But she wasn’t what he needed…
Isn’t she
…?
No. What he needed was the pretty, petite
blonde who didn’t have a thousand secrets, who answered his phone
calls, and who would
be
there. He didn’t want to put a ball
and chain on any woman, but he’d sure as hell like to have a woman
in his life who was around more often an once a month, once every
two months…less.
Sighing, he shifted his gaze past the other
man, staring at the closed door that separated him from Dakota.
“You need to go check on her then. Make sure she’s okay…hell. I
don’t know. I just…”
“I’ve always been there when she needed me.
Today’s no different.”
As the cop finally left, Bo said,
“Marin.”
His second, a small, sleek woman, appeared at
his side. The top of her head barely reached the middle of his
chest. She was one of the meanest bitches he’d ever met in his
life—he absolutely adored her.
“Yeah?”
“Watch the bar for me. I think I’m needed
somewhere.”
She sighed and pushed her pink-streaked hair
back from her face. “Dude, you keep insisting you’re no
Hunter.”
Bo smiled. “I’m not…I’m just worried about
Dakota. She’s a friend. If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t worry unless it
was going to present a problem for us.”
His small pack was just now getting
established here. He wouldn’t risk it.
But he wouldn’t be much of a friend if he
ignored that tingle on his spine, either. Dakota had problems
coming her way. He didn’t know what they were, but if it was
something she could handle, he wouldn’t be feeling this way.
“I’ll be back.”
As he slipped through the back door, Marin
made a face at him.
Somebody was going to die. Dakota tasted it,
felt it. Could feel it clogging her throat and she wanted to kick
her own ass. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t felt anything
earlier. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t realized anything bad was
going down. What mattered was that she hadn’t been doing her job.
She had been with Drew.
Now somebody was going to die. She knew she
wouldn’t get there in time to stop it. She could feel the blood.
Taste it. It hung in the air like a cloud.
Idiot. Stupid, selfish idiot.
What had
she been thinking?
It was thicker now, the stink of death,
thicker as she drew closer to the building, and when she started up
the fire escape, it was almost enough to choke her. She heard them.
Voices, whispering. A grunt. A soft, broken moan. The air is thick
with the stink of violent, angry lust.
Calling on the shadows, she wrapped herself
in them, hiding. Distantly, she was aware of the fading, faltering
pulse. The woman, she was dying.
I’m sorry...
The window was open. Dakota hesitated.
How
do I get in?
How had feral vamps gotten in? Had the woman
invited them? There was some truth to the rumor vampires could only
go where they were invited—a person set up a home, set down roots,
it gave him a bit of protection. Their protection started to fade,
though, when the owner died. This owner wasn’t gone—yet.
Dakota wasn’t going to wait until it was too
late. Focusing her mind, she reached out. As she did it, she
prayed. As the ferals were too far into the blood lust, they
wouldn’t be aware of anything else. That was bad for the woman, the
better for Dakota. She was clinging to life, but only barely.
Hey, sweetheart. Invite me in. I’ll get
rid of them
.
She felt a flicker of surprise from the
woman—followed by desperation, determination. This woman wanted to
live. Even though her body strength was waning with every drop of
blood loss, clung to life.
Help me. Help us…
Us...? Dakota frowned. Then she took a deep
breath, trying to filter out the sense of blood. Death, that faint
sense of food and something else... another scent, one she knew,
hauntingly familiar and tugged at her senses.
And something—stronger, so strong, it
threatened to overpower everything else.
Death. Not a woman about to die, the people
who had already died.
She didn’t need to wait for this woman to
invite her in.
The people who lived here were already
dead.
Out of habit, Dakota took a deep breath and
gripped the knife she had lifted from Bo’s backroom. The Kel-tech
was wicked sharp and specially made, with enough silver in the
blade to make any vampire very, very sorry.
The first one, stupidly standing with his
back to the door, didn’t survive for more than a few seconds. She
plunged the knife into his back as savage jerk of her wrist,
shredded his heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.
She stared at the remaining vampire where he
remained crouched over his victim. “Get up.” She stared at him and
twirled her knife.
His eyes, dazed, all but drowned from the
blood lust, stared at her. Dakota took one step toward him.
Snarling, she said again, “Get. Up.”
He might be lost to the blood lust—barely
more than an animal. But even animals had the instinct to live. As
he came for her, Dakota braced herself.
Screw it
.
Drew tried to tell himself that, tried to
tell himself it didn’t matter. They had ended it. That’s what
counted, right? They had even ended it without an ugly, dramatic
scene. To be honest, he’d expected some drama. She just seemed the
type.
Maybe he should be happy.
Fuck that. He wasn’t happy. Damn it, she’d
just walked. How in the
hell
could she just walk? Two years
and this was how it ended?
Okay, so yeah, he’d ended it, but…
“Shit.”
He couldn’t forget that no matter what,
Dakota it made him feel like nobody else ever had.
“Shit.” He shoved a hand through his hair.
“Not supposed to be doing this. Not supposed to be comparing them.
Not supposed be thinking about Dakota, not anymore.”
His future needed to be with Nicole. He knew
that. She was what he needed, and pretty close to what he wanted.
At least what he thought he wanted. He should call her. He needed
to see her—yeah. Go see her. He always felt better after he saw
her, after he talked to her. Once he did, maybe this emptiness
inside would go away.
Frowning, he saw the messages on his phone.
It was from Nicole. When had she sent it? He tapped the screen to
bring up her message.
Had to go check on a client. If you’re free,
might be in your neck of the woods in an hour. Don’t know about
you, but I could use the company.
“My neck of the woods?” He scowled.
A cold chill ran down his spine. He needed to
see her. He needed to be there. Right
now
.
“Bastard.” His worthless body fell to the
ground and although everything inside her screamed to get to the
woman, Dakota paused to make sure the heart was completely
destroyed. It was.
She checked the other corpse and heaved out a
sigh. Both dead. Good. Job done. S
hittily
so, but still
done. Moving over to the woman, she crouched at her side and did
what she could to stop the sluggish flow of blood.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have been
here sooner.”
There was no response. She was fading. Taking
a deep breath, Dakota blinked back the tears, tried to think. Once
more, something about the woman sent tugged at her. Familiar, very
familiar. Dakota hadn’t met her before—that much she knew. But she
had smelled her before. And there was something else, no, someone
else.
“No. Oh, no.”
Her already bruised heart began to shatter.
Her voice was thick with tears as she spoke. “Hey, sugar. Listen,
we don’t have much time. I can help you—if you want to live, I can
help. It can be weird, and may not be a lot of fun, especially at
first. But I can help. You have to tell me you want to go. Do you
want it?”