When It Comes (Vampire Assassin League Book 31) (6 page)

“I’m clueless here. Okay? Same as you guys. I can barely remember what she looks like.”  And it was harder than hell to get that lie out without making any expression.

“Well. That’s exactly why we have a doctor of hypnotism here, Detective Hartnett.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Mitch’s eyes widened. Somebody opened the door. Daylight poured in. Fire speared his eyeballs and lanced deeply into his skull. Mitch jerked his head down and blinked rapidly against an onslaught of tears. They didn’t do much against this level of trauma, but they did send a tiny bit of cooling relief. Things couldn’t get much worse.

And then Donny walked back in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Adelaide hummed a melody popular during the first weeks of World War I as she moved about her room. She couldn’t remember the name of the tune or the composer, but it was a catchy song. She dressed with care. Tonight she’d decided on white. Her brocade skirt was fashioned in cream and white tones. Her corset was white satin, adorned with aged, cream-colored lace. The elbow-length gloves were white. Her thigh-high stockings were fashioned from white lace. A grosgrain ribbon bow tied at the backs. Her ankle boots were off-white. Lace-covered. As was the tiny veiled hat she’d wear. The entire ensemble was sexy, yet classy.

Very
classy
.

She dumped the contents from a large bag onto the seat of a red-velvet, turned-arm sofa. She bypassed the wallets and made a pile of the jewelry. She had brooches and rings, and watches – one still attached to its fob – as well as all manner and style of necklaces. She had a lot to choose from. First-class passengers hadn’t skimped on fashion back in nineteen fifteen. Actually...the well-to-do passengers aboard the
Lusitania
hadn’t skimped on much.

The necklace she chose was choker-length, the pearls of an exquisite quality. No doubt the original owner had selected and purchased it due to the gem color and shape and size. Addie slid her fingers along the strand before fastening the piece about her throat.  

Oh.

Perfect.

She resembled a bride readying for the ceremony. And she felt just as excited. Only, she didn’t have a gown to don. She’d updated her wardrobe with new styles and fabrics, but she preferred this – a corset worn above a skirt. This had been her attire when she’d been changed. Looking as if perpetually in a state of
dishabille.
Preparing for a lover. That was a thrilling thought tonight.

Donning her garments was a ritual.

It always had been.

Addie remembered her undeath with absolute clarity. She’d decided to take a rest. Hide from scrutiny until evening. She’d removed her tight-fitting woolen jacket and hung it on a peg at the end of her bunk. She’d taken even more care with her high-necked, pin-tucked, muslin blouse. That top had fastened with a long row of little buttons up the back. She’d been excited to view her haul, but she knew the value of appearance. She couldn’t blend in with first-class passengers if she had wrinkled or torn attire. Almost reverently, she’d slipped each button from its hole and then draped the blouse across two pegs, sliding her fingers along the fabric to help with wrinkling.  

She’d had a very good trip. Filched enough to keep her from the poorhouse for months! That morning, she’d hobnobbed among the wealthy passengers, lifting all manner of wallets and jewels as she’d walked about. The day had been of such mild temperature most passengers had been outside, strolling about on deck. It had been a Friday. May seventh. It was easy to approach a shipmate. Strike up a conversation. Bid them
adieu.
Inadvertently trip and need a slight bit of assistance. Nobody had noticed her thievery. Why, she’d taken such a haul, she’d had to empty the bag into the hidden pockets of her petticoat to the point they were in danger of ripping.

And then a stupid bobby had caught her and removed her from the area. It hadn’t been for theft. He’d been too busy to even notice that. He’d escorted her to the second-class entrance because she couldn’t prove she was a first-class passenger. The stupid man had been immune to charm. Sexual innuendo. Even tears. Nothing she’d tried had worked. And he’d been wrong. She hadn’t snuck her way up from second-class.

Adelaide Baxter had paid for steerage.

And there she’d eventually returned. The dark third-class cabin held space for eight women, but the voyage from New York hadn’t been a full one. She only shared the cabin with two others. They’d both been missing. Addie didn’t know where they were, with whom, or why. She didn’t care, either. Most of the occupants of third-class stayed on their assigned decks as long as possible. Outside the air was fresh and didn’t reek of engines, and everyone was excited to catch a glimpse of land. The voyage had been fairly comfortable, not at all like being a third-class passenger aboard a lesser vessel. The
Lusitania
was a fabulous ship. Richly appointed. Fast. The Atlantic crossing had taken a week. The coast of Ireland was only eleven miles away.

Addie had been about to dump her bag of goodies onto the bunk when a large boom thundered through the ship, making the walls shudder. Her cabin rocked and went into a deep slant. The lights flickered, but remained on, although they’d gone a lot dimmer. She didn’t find out until later that a German submarine had torpedoed the
Lusitania,
hitting the starboard bow. The first explosion was followed by another, even larger one, as munitions the ship shouldn’t have been transporting, ignited.

Adelaide had gripped the bag to her as her cabin tilted farther and water started pouring beneath the door. And then a voice had called her name...a deep, resonant voice. It belonged to an immense, cloaked man who’d appeared out of the encroaching gloom. He’d introduced himself as Akron Profit, given her his title, leader of the Vampire Assassin League. Addie had been amused, then skeptical, then terrified. But something about him had reassured.

He’d given her an option – death by drowning, while clutching her ill-gotten gains...or an eternity of undeath working for him.

Addie hadn’t hesitated. She’d clung to him with one arm, while holding this bag tightly with her other. She didn’t recall the exact moment he’d changed her. Or how they’d left the ship. As far as she knew, Akron was capable of teleporting, which was difficult to believe. But he was the oldest of them. She knew better than to theorize. She’d been swathed in his cloak against the sun, missing any view of the
Lusitania
as it sank beneath the water, taking 1198 lives with it.

Including hers.  

As if she’d called him, a cell phone she’d secreted in her skirt vibrated against her thigh. Adelaide knew who it was without looking. She flipped the front open, brought it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Greetings, Miss Baxter!”

“Nigel.”

She’d been wrong. It wasn’t Akron. The caller was the V.A.L. second-in-command, a man younger than herself and twice as immature. Any eagerness she felt disappeared. Her voice reflected it.

“How are things out west?” he asked.

“I can’t complain,” Addie replied.

“Oh. Good. I think that’s enough for chit-chat. You’re probably wondering why I called.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“Most of our associates are curious.”

“Please don’t give me an assignment.”

“Sounds like it’s your lucky day. I’m not calling with a hit. What are the odds of that happening, I wonder?”

“What do you want?”

“An alert just came up on the Abyss Link. It’s a new system. Evolving, but we’re behind, or something. We should have gotten this notification hours ago. Apparently, there is some suspicious activity happening regarding old assassinations.”

“So?”

“Did I forget to mention that all of them were fulfilled by you?”

“Oh.”

“So. I’m calling to find out what’s up.”

“Um. Nothing much.”  Her heart raced at the fib. It was so loud she wondered if Nigel might hear it.

“Really? That’s odd. There are several government agencies with three letter initials involved. Interpol has even been queried. And nothing is happening? Sounds like you’d better take a long trip to somewhere else. Pronto. I hear Siberia is nice this time of year.”

Addie considered her options. Decided to tell him. “I found my mate. Okay?”

“Really? How exciting! It’s the best feeling in the universe, isn’t it? But. Um. Wait a minute. If you found your mate, why is every law enforcement agency in the vicinity checking on you?”

“He’s a copper.”

“A copper? Oh. A policeman.”  He chuckled. “Wow. A cop...and a thief. What are the odds of that happening?” 

Addie stiffened. “It’s not amusing.”

“Oh, come on. Lighten up. It’s pretty entertaining. Maybe I should alert the big guy. He’d love this. And...he could advise us.”

“I can handle it.”

“Right. Well. I have to tell you, the very last thing we want is this much attention paid to our operation. And there is no way I can order a 4-D hit on a station of the Denver police department. Talk about pouring gasoline on an already uncontrollable bonfire. Akron would have my ass. So, looks like we have a problem.”

“I told you I can handle it.”

“I don’t think you understand, sweetheart. The only reason you’re dealing with me at the moment is because the notice just came through, and I haven’t told the big guy yet.
Comprehende
?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Everybody has an attitude anymore. Must be something in the air. Tell you what. I’ll give you a couple of hours before I do something.”

“
Two
hours?”

“Okay. Three. But, that’s it. You need to either get him under control or let him go. No straddling things here. I’m risking punishment. And I may not be able to order a 4-D team on the Denver PD, but I can easily send them to a certain hidden mansion in an abandoned Breckenridge mine. Do you catch my meaning?”

“You’d destroy my house?”

“And everything in it. There’s a reason we stay covert, cupcake.”

Addie pulled the phone away and frowned at it. Put it back to her ear. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you,” she told him.

“Nobody said you had to. Oh. And I’ve been thinking. You should kidnap him.”

“Who?”

“Your mate.”

“Oh. No. No. I don’t want to force him.”

“Oh, kid. He’ll love it. Trust me. Tie him to a bed or something. Go all dominatrix on him. You know...S and M.”

“S and M?”

“What era are you from? You never heard of sadism/masochism? Oh. Never mind. I forgot. You’re from the
Titanic.
Times were different then. You guys probably never even said the word sex.”

“I was aboard the
Lusitania
,” Addie answered.

“Same difference. Two big-ass ships full of big shots with bigger egos. Both liners were advertized as unsinkable. Both sank. Am I right?”

“I need more than two hours. I need all night.”

Nigel gave a heavy sigh. It echoed through her phone.

“Please?” she added.

“Women. You give them an inch, they want a mile.”

“Nigel. Please? He’s a
bobby.
” Her voice lowered on the word. “I don’t even know how to talk to him.”

“Oh, all right. You’ve got until sunup. I hope I don’t regret this...”

Adelaide pressed the disconnect button and pitched the cell phone toward the sofa. The move sent it through the material and deeply into the padding. She hadn’t meant to. She was simply rushing. She had so little time! So much to explain. Somehow find the words to convince him.

And she no longer felt anything like a bride.

CHAPTER NINE

He knew the exact moment his life had gone off-track. And where. One fifteen in the morning. At Red Rocks. Two nights ago. And every moment seemed to bring more insanity.

Mitch had spent hours with the hypnotist, acting like he was cooperating while fighting anything that might send his mind on hiatus and reveal his secret. They’d broken the session for a late lunch. Captain Thomas had sent Donny to a Chinese restaurant. He’d brought back sushi. A large portion of sweet and sour chicken pieces.
Kung Po
chicken
. Szu Szechuan
beef.
Chow mein
with noodles
.

And how had Mitch repaid that?

By grabbing up and devouring the inside of a bloody-rare steak sandwich that somebody had ordered. Mitch had ignored their expressions. He couldn’t explain. He didn’t know what to say. He’d been ravenous and everything else tasted like dirt. That meat had tasted fantastic.

The session hadn’t yielded anything. Mitch kept recounting what they already knew. She had dark eyes, almost black in shade. Shoulder-length brown hair. A trim figure. She was attractive. Her name was Adelaide. She went by Addie. The hypnotist had finally ended with Mitch and gone to work on Randy, Sam, and then Tom. Individually. Mitch had been given the green light to go.

That was easier said than done.

Sunlight was still an issue for him and Colorado was experiencing high pressure this week. Lots of sunlight. Soaring temperatures. Rocky Mountain summer weather. Mitch had hung around the station house until evening. He couldn’t get his bike home if he couldn’t see. But then the taxi drive home had delivered more bad news.

Somebody had cut the security cord around the light pole and stolen his bike. Mitch had squatted down and looked over the array of footprints about the pole. They’d been intersected with deep impressions of truck tires.

Damn it
.

The bike was fully insured, but he’d have to file a police report first. That was more shit to deal with. He was a cop. Cops rarely had these problems. And why? Because they knew the odds and how to stack them in their favor. Denver wasn’t a crime capital, but leaving that bike had been tantamount to posting a ‘take me’ sign. Mitch had looked at the crime scene, debated his options, then pulled the cord from around the pole and dove back into the cab. He’d been snarling.

Fuck it.

The police report could wait. As would the taunts and mocking he was sure to receive over it.

And then, he’d experienced another off-the-wall incident. He’d had the cab stop at a supermarket and tried to walk sedately inside. That had been followed by a lot of salivating while viewing rows of uncooked red meat. Mitch had loaded a cart with what felt like a paycheck worth of beef. The cabbie had helped him transport it, first to the car trunk, and then into his condo. Mitch had given the cabbie such a great tip the guy had written his private number on a card to call should another ride be needed. Mitch’s freezer was now full of red meat, mostly steaks. It was nonsensical. He wasn’t even partial to beef.

That batch of nonsense was followed by an attempt to fix dinner.

None of his recipes looked appetizing. He’d tried cooking up Black Pepper Beef and Cabbage Stir Fry. Discarded that idea. His next option was
Sinigana na Baka,
a beef and vegetable soup. The next effort was
Mongolian
Beef
.
Mitch ditched them all for the same reason – one completely foreign to him. The dishes contained vegetables and they sounded horrid. He’d settled on Beef
Yakitori,
a dish featuring grilled skewered beef.

The meat hadn’t made it to the fire before Mitch had devoured it.

The senselessness continued well into the night.

Mitch regarded the ceiling of his bedroom as if it held the answers. That was a misnomer. He actually watched the spot because that’s where Adelaide had appeared, and, despite everything, his body wouldn’t let him forget it. The feeling was sort of like when he’d been in a canoe once out on the water during a storm, his body tensing for an imminent lightning strike. Goose bumps lifted along his skin. His mind flashed with sexual images. Addie’s eyes. Her lips. Her fantastic body...

“Adelaide!”

He whispered the name. Nothing happened. She wasn’t just haunting him anymore. This was damn near psychic possession. And it was the most amazing sensation he’d ever felt. He was in the throes of something enormous. Uncontrollable. Impossible to fight. His dick was a major problem. It was at full mast and complete ache. Everything else on his body suffered the same constant state of arousal, pulsing in waves that carried alertness. Energy. And heat. So much heat, he’d tossed off the covers. And then even shed his boxers.

He’d never felt anything like this. He’d have denied this level of yearning existed if he wasn’t fully immersed in the experience. He desired her – that was a given. He wanted her, which was another no-brainer. But this went beyond physical craving. It was an actual need, and it was massive enough that it cancelled out the level of shit occurring in his life. Nothing mattered – his near-insubordination at the station, his newly-acquired abilities, appetite for blood-rare meat, sore spots in his neck...not even the theft of his motorcycle.

There was only one thing that mattered.

Adelaide.

Mitch closed his eyes. Her image immediately loomed before him. Her eyes...so deep and mysterious. Her skin, so smooth and silky. Her body...

Sweet mercy!

Her body was the epitome of womanliness. Firm and welcoming. Passionate. Wet. Wild.

Mitch groaned and smacked the bed at his sides. That was stupid. He’d forgotten his new powers. The mattress bounced several times before resettling. The bedstead creaked as if in warning. Maybe he should just get up. Pull on his exercise pants. Push his living room rug to one side. Do some cardio. Seeking rest was becoming an annoyance. He wasn’t any nearer
fudoshin
than when he’d first gone to bed. That was hard to believe. He’d been able to reach that harmonious state since childhood. Easily. Maybe he just needed to try harder.

He started with regulating his breathing. Mitch eased out a pent breath. Counted to ten before inhaling. Held it for a count of twenty before exhaling. Counted to ten. Inhaled. Held that air in his lungs for a count of twenty. Exhaled. Did it again.

And then lost count.

Damn it.

He tried to focus on his heart rate next, but couldn’t find a rhythm. Thumping sounds reverberated through his consciousness. They seemed to be all over the place. Like a toddler had just been given a drum set and was working it over. With amplification. Mitch was flirting with a headache before he gave up on modulating his heart rate. The thumping noise faded.

The next effort went toward untensing his muscles. His shoulders and arms were in knots, his abs coiled tighter than a trampoline, his buttocks burned with how tightly he held them. He had to concentrate to feel his legs, and then they ached, too. He could use a full body massage, but to release these muscles, he’d probably need one given by a pissed-off world-class wrestler. With a lot of strength.

Crap.

It was useless. He had to reach the dream-state again...the one that had brought her to him last night. It wasn’t an option, either. It was an actual physical need.

“Adelaide!”

The name almost carried his sob. And then she answered!

“I’m here.”

Mitch’s eyes snapped open. She wasn’t above him. He turned his head. She stood in the shadowed area of his door. His heart launched into his throat, making it tight. His mouth went instantly dry.

Oh.

Baby!

She wore a white ensemble tonight, making her easy to spot. It also made her image ghostly in the dimness. Almost ethereal. Mitch sat. It didn’t take a hint of effort since his abs were already tight. Ready. He bent both knees to keep his arousal out of sight. And then he just watched her glide toward him. She stopped at the end of his bed. She was breathing heavily, matching him. Each inhalation sent the dual mounds of her breasts into prominence along the top of her corset. She looked amazing. Classy. Feminine. Perfect. She had a little hat on her head, the veil just grazing her cheekbones. Above-elbow-length opera gloves encased her arms. And then, he had to consider that heavenly corset. He couldn’t see what else she wore. Her lower half was hidden by his footboard.

Damn thing.

“Come here.”  His command was rough-edged, resembling a large metal zipper as it pulled open.

“We need to talk.” 

Her voice was seduction in an audible form. His skin rippled with a renewed flash of goose bumps.

“Come. Here,” he repeated, using exactly the same tone, but spacing the words out threateningly.

“Mitchell. I have something to tell you.”

“I’m warning you,” he answered.

“There are things you need to know!”

“Get your ass over here, lady.”

“I
beg
your pardon!”

She sounded shocked. Offended. Mitch almost laughed.

“You want it prettied up? Sorry. You got the wrong guy. And you definitely got the wrong time.”

“I have to tell you what I am!”

“You’re a succubus. A fantasy. A damn demon. I don’t know and I don’t care. And I’m way past asking again. Got it?”

The shadow of a smile crossed her mouth. There was something weird about it again. This time, he saw what it was. Two small spikes were just peeking from beneath her upper lip, about where her canines should be. Were those...
fangs
? His mind registered the question. His body didn’t care. Her lips were plump. Lush. Reddened. He watched them move as she answered. The little spikes were white against the backdrop of red.

“I’m not any of those.”   

“Like I give a shit.” 

Mitch launched forward, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her onto the bed with him. They dropped. He wasn’t graceful. The mattress jumped and then started shuddering. It matched Mitch’s reaction. He’d looped his arms about her, bringing her close. Closer. The boning of her corset dug into his ribcage. He tightened his arms more, ratcheting up the visceral quality of this embrace. She gasped. The slight sound was swallowed by his groan as he snagged her lips, his mouth open and grasping, his tongue plundering. The kiss was heady. Addictive. The edge of her veil scratched the top of his nose. Her breath grazed his cheek. The slightest impression of pain occurred in his mouth.

Had she opened...a cut?

He wondered it for a fraction of a second and then he didn’t care about that, either. Liquid ecstasy erupted in his mouth, before it gushed through his veins. The sensation smacked into his chest cavity and grabbed his heart.

And then it squeezed.

She writhed against him. He rocked with it. Back. Forth. The mattress swayed side-to-side in accompaniment. Her hat slid off somehow, taking the veil with it. Mitch didn’t miss it. Waves of her hair fell next, tickling his throat. Shoulders. Upper arms. He didn’t much note that, either. His hands were flying up her side, instinctively sliding hoops off hooks, freeing her upper body, and those perfect breasts. He shoved the front of her corset aside, and lifted her, the move breaking the kiss.

“No! Wait! I have to tell you! I am a
vamp
—!”

Her rushed words turned into a garbled cry. Mitch might have reacted, but that would’ve unlatched him. He had one of her nipples in his mouth. And he was suckling. Her words changed to all sorts of soft sighs as he moved to the nub atop the other breast. And then she looped her arms about his head and was helping. Holding him in position.

“Oh, yes. Yes. Oh...Mitchell! Right there! Ah!”

Her cry galvanized him. He grabbed at the yards of fabric she wore, moving handfuls of the skirt and petticoat up, and out of his way. Material bunched about her hips as he quested for, and finally found the backs of her knees. She wore stockings again. These felt like they’d been crafted in lace. Mitch moved his touch higher, found the ruffled edges of her stockings where they gripped her thighs. And they were adorned with large bows at the backs.

Oh!

How he loved her legs in these stockings!

“Oh, baby. Oh, Addie. Oh, sweetness.”

He slid his fingers onto silky skin. The muscles quivered beneath his touch. His hands went higher. He gripped the backs of her thighs, directly beneath her butt...

He really loved his newfound power, too!

Mitch opened her legs, lifted her above him, and shimmied down, diving beneath the mound of brocade. He found her core with his tongue. Licked it. She gave a squeal. Jerked as if to escape. Mitch tightened his grip and held her into place. And now he wasn’t just licking. He was sucking. And laving. And then vibrating. And he had to use every ounce of strength at his disposal to keep her in place as she started gyrating and screaming. She had an eerie scream. The sound sent shivers and lifted hairs along his neck. She was loud, too. So loud, if the adjacent condo hadn’t been vacant, Mitch would probably be getting a visit from emergency personnel over it.