The Order Boxed Set (8 page)

When she got to the end, she wasn’t any closer to the truth than before. The file just contained the evidence Christian had spoken of, including a coroner’s report stating cause of death. Kathryn Collins had died of a broken neck at the site of the accident.

The next sheets were copies of newspaper articles, one about the accident, and a second relating to the disappearance of the body, which had been taken from the morgue the day after she died. Nobody knew why, and no clues were ever found.

What hit Tara hardest was that Kathryn Collins died leaving no family. Her parents were dead and she’d had no siblings. None. Where did that leave Tara as her niece?

Absolutely nowhere
.

She rubbed at her forehead to ease the dull ache throbbing behind her eyes. This information brought her no closer to finding out who she was or where she came from.

Frustrated, she went to close the file and noticed Graham’s business card. Without giving herself time to think, Tara pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number.

After a couple of rings, he picked up. “What?”

He sounded grumpy, and she almost put the phone down. Instead, she forced herself to speak. “Hello, it’s Tara—Tara Collins.”

He was silent for a moment. “Tara, sorry, I was asleep—not quite with it.”

Tara glanced at her watch; it was almost one o’clock.

“Hey, I work nights,” he said as if reading her mind.

Of course he would work nights—after all, he worked for a vampire. “Sorry I woke you.”

“No problem. You want to talk?”

“Please.”

“Where are you?”

She told him.

“There’s a coffee shop just round the corner,” he said. “Ginelli’s. I’ll meet you there in forty minutes.”

…

The place was clean, but basic, made good coffee, cheap food, and catered almost exclusively to students. With his long, elegant frame dressed in a silver gray designer suit and a dark blue shirt, Graham appeared like some exotic creature who’d wandered in by mistake. Tara in jeans and a jumper felt scruffy next to him.

He smiled as he sat down. “So, you want to know all about vampires.”

“Actually, I’d prefer to forget that they even exist. I guess that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“No, probably not.”

“Are you allowed to talk to me? You’re not breaking any code of secrecy.”

“I can tell you, but they’d have to kill me, sort of thing?” He shrugged. “There is a code. Humans who get involved with vampires either don’t speak of it or they don’t survive very long.”

“So why are you talking to me now?”

“Christian told me to tell you whatever you wanted to know.”

“But why?”

“Maybe because you need to believe in order to find out what happened with your aunt, but I don’t think that’s it. I think he likes you.”

Tara stopped stirring her coffee. “You do?”

“I do, and that’s not something I’ve come across in the five years I’ve known him. Oh, I’m not saying he’s celibate or anything, but he doesn’t do relationships.”

“We’re not having a relationship.”

“No?”

“I just feel that if I’m going to keep him on as an investigator—and I’m not sure that’s going to be the case—then I need to understand what he’s like, what I can expect.”

“So
,
ask away.”

Tara took a sip of coffee, stirred it some more. She wanted to know everything, but that wouldn’t sound very cool.

“What are they? Where do they come from? Are they a different species or were they once human? Do—”

Graham held up a hand, a slight smile on his face. “That’s enough questions to start with. I’m not sure what they are, and I’m not sure they do either. I once asked Christian, and he said all they knew was that they were descended from an original group, but no one knows where that group came from, or if they do, they aren’t telling. But I do know Christian was once human. A long time ago.”

“How long? How old is he?”

“I’m not sure exactly. He was born sometime in the Middle-Ages, so over five hundred years, but he doesn’t talk about it much.”

Wow, five hundred years. What would it be like to live that long? Go through all those changes, and see so many people die. She wondered if that bothered him, or whether he just saw humans as food. “Are you human?”

He grinned. “What do you think? Yeah, I’m human.”

“So how did you get mixed up in all this?”

“I’m Christian’s human servant.” He thought for a moment as if wondering how much to tell her. “A bond forms when a vampire feeds a number of times from the same human. I’m tied to him. I don’t mind. He saved my life.”

“How?”

“I was sixteen, living on the streets and I was a real fucked-up mess. One night I pissed off the wrong people. They took me down an alley, and beat on me. I was almost dead when Christian came along. I’ve been with him ever since.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“I was a street punk—I wouldn’t have lasted much longer out there.” He grinned. “My mouth got me into trouble so many times it was lucky I lasted as long as I did. Now look at me.”

She did. There was nothing of the street kid left in him, with his designer suits and his perfectly cut hair, his air of languid grace.

“I’ve got a great job,” he continued. “Even if I do have to work nights. Christian has shown me a whole different way of life. All I have to do is donate a little blood now and then, and that’s hardly a hardship.” His face took on that dreamy expression he’d had when Christian had fed, and a wave of heat washed over her.

“Are you in love with him?”

He appeared startled at the question. “Who wouldn’t be? He is seriously gorgeous, but I told you he doesn’t go for guys, not like that.”

“What about female vampires?”

“There are none. Not that I know of. Something to do with the process. They don’t survive.”

“So no little vampire babies?”

“God, no!”

They were silent for a few minutes.

“What’s
t
he Order?”

“You’ll have to ask Christian about that, but I doubt he’ll tell you anything. All I know is Christian was involved up until about twenty years ago. Piers Lamont, the other vamp you met, is the big boss now, but I’m not sure what they do or why. The only other person I’ve met from there is Ella. She used to drop by the office occasionally. She’d had a thing with Christian a long time ago and would like to have a thing again.”

“Ella?”

He grinned. “She’s a witch, and I mean that in the literal sense. Don’t worry—she’s no competition. Christian can’t stand her, won’t even see her.”

Tara sniffed. “I wasn’t worried.”

“No, of course you weren’t.”

Tara decided to change the subject. “Do you know what was in that file? About my aunt?”

“I did the research. It’s tough.”

“I can’t believe all this—vampires, dead aunts. I keep thinking I’ll wake up and it will all be a bad dream.”

“Christian will get to the bottom of it for you.”

“Yes, but what will he find? All my childhood, I watched from the sidelines, never belonging, never joining in, and I thought that was going to change. All I ever wanted was to be normal.”

“You might be surprised how your view of what’s normal changes. Besides, being normal isn’t all that great. Boring even.”

“Sounds lovely. I can’t help wondering, if I could go back, would I just leave it well alone?”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have had a choice. In the end, your past would have caught up with you.”

“It doesn’t matter. Now it’s too late.” She gave a small smile. “I’m scared.”

He patted her hand. “Christian will take care of you.”

Why didn’t that make her feel better? Could it be the fact that Christian was a vampire?
“And who’ll protect me from Christian?”

“Do you want protection from Christian? If you were really scared, you wouldn’t be talking to me, you’d be running away as fast as you could.”

The comment brought her up short. She could go away, start over somewhere new. She rejected the idea. “I’m not running away.”

“Good. I have to go. When you’re ready to come in again, give me a call.”

She nodded. “I will, soon.”

He got up to go and Tara asked him one more question.

“Are vampires evil?”

“I saw some bad things when I lived on the street. I learned to recognize true evil and Christian is not that. On the other hand, I wouldn’t say he was entirely good either, but that would be boring.”

…

Two days later, Tara headed down in the elevator, deep underground beneath the CR building.

She’d come to the conclusion that she had to return—Christian was her best bet at discovering her past. But it would be on a strict business basis. No kissing and absolutely no biting.

She would have preferred to take the elevator up to a business meeting on the thirteenth floor. Instead, she was sinking fast. Christian was down there in his private quarters, somewhere south of the sub-basement. Graham had hustled her into the elevator before she could argue.

Her knees wobbled and a queer little twist of something tightened her belly.

Get a grip. Business only.

Christian was there when the elevator doors slid open. He was fully dressed. No half-naked vampire for her tonight.

At least, not yet.

Then again, it was early.

She didn’t know where that thought had come from, and she tried to put it from her mind.

He was all in black again, the business suit gone, but he looked good. It suited his pale skin and dark silky hair, which he’d left loose on his shoulders.

“Tara,” he murmured her name and reached out a hand. She took it in hers
,
feeling that same tingle as their skin touched. He lowered his face and inhaled deeply, turned her hand over, and kissed her wrist where her pulse thundered close to the surface. His tongue stroked her skin and she trembled, half expecting to feel the sharp bite of his fangs. Before she could pull free, he raised his eyes. They were beautiful, mesmerizing, and she realized she didn’t want to be free after all.

She was in big trouble. One minute in his presence and all her good intentions vanished. He smiled a slow curl of his beautiful lips and dropped her hand.

She breathed again.

“Come.” He slipped a hand to her waist and guided her into his apartment.

They were in a sitting room this time. The furniture was sparse but luxurious with huge sofas upholstered in scarlet silk.

Was that to hide the bloodstains in case it got messy?

Though she was pretty sure Christian would never be so unsophisticated as to spill his food.

Candles flickered all around the room. An ice bucket stood on the small table, containing a bottle of champagne, and next to it two champagne flutes. She wouldn’t be touching that. Whatever happened tonight she was determined to be conscious throughout it.

“Did Graham tell you I wanted to talk about my aunt?” She stared around the room again. “Do you often conduct your business meetings by candlelight?”

He smiled. “Are you worried what my intentions might be?”

The worry factor took second place to a slow burning rise of excitement that twisted her insides. Her blood thundered through her veins, and her heart pounded.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Can I get you anything to eat?”

“No.” She peered at him sharply. “Are you?”

He chuckled and looked her up and down very slowly and very thoroughly, lingering, she thought, far too long on her throat. His eyes were half-closed and gleaming behind his thick lashes when they returned to her face. “You think I’m going to leap on you and bite that pretty neck?”

She didn’t answer, and he prowled around the back of her, coming to a halt so close she had to force herself not to move away. His hands caressed her hair, sliding away the silky strands to bare the line of her throat.

“You smell so delicious.”

Tara twitched, but his hands held her in place. His lips were on her skin and a wave of heat washed over her. Her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth opened against her throat and his tongue stroked, slow and cool against her heated flesh.

“Maybe just a little taste…”
H
is teeth scraped her, and she braced herself for his bite. Instead, he turned her in his arms
,
allowing her to see the hunger burning in his eyes. So hot, so fierce that she gasped.

“See, you’re quite safe with me.” He lowered his lids for a moment. When he opened them, his expression was blank. “One day soon, I hope you will trust me enough to allow me your blood, but perhaps you are not quite ready for that yet.”

He slid his finger down the line of her throat, pressed it against the vein, and lingered on her pulse. “Though I don’t think it is only fear that makes your pulse beat so fast, and perhaps you are ready for this.”

He lowered his head and kissed her. His lips were incredibly soft against hers, not demanding but requesting her compliance, and without thought her mouth opened beneath his. How easily her resolutions vanished,