9781936653027BorntobeWildArsuaga (15 page)

“That’s enough. I said I’m not interested in you
or your sick games.” He growled and his fangs elongated, giving her a dead-eyed
stare.

In response, her fangs dropped and she hissed through
her teeth. “You are a stone-cold, heartless bastard like everyone says. I bet
you haven’t had a real fuck since I left you. Nothing can soften your black
heart, can it?”

Stefan rolled his smoldering dark brown eyes, red
rimmed from the fury within. He wouldn’t let her insults rile his anger any
longer. It wasn’t the place, or time.

“I haven’t changed, Stefan. You have. No wonder
you are an enforcer for Van Zant. You’re not good for anything else. Or anyone
for that matter.”

He pushed her back into the seat.

Psycho bitch.
Ecaterina was right. He did have a stone for a
heart. Several days ago he wanted to end his existence because he couldn’t take
the loneliness and the so-called life he led, until Alexandra.
By the gods, Alexandra.
I need you.
He turned his attention out
the airplane window.

The sky was partly cloudy, the stars twinkled, the
half-moon a sardonic and winking eye floating between the few night clouds.
Fingers of moonlight bounced off the jet wings and danced through the windows
onto interior sleek high polished faux wood surfaces.

The jet flight lurched up then down with a sudden
shaking motion.

The pilot came over the cabin speaker, “Miss
Tomescu and gentlemen please take your seats and buckle up. We are encountering
some turbulence. For your safety, we ask you remain seated until we pass
through this disturbance.
Should be out of it shortly.
Thank you.”

“Oh, I hate flying,” Ecaterina said, gripping the
armrests.

Stefan glanced over at her. Her face showed fear,
an expression he remembered from the first time he met her, over three
centuries ago. It wasn’t exactly true she hated to fly. It was the turbulence
which reminded her of the night her life changed, the night he turned her.

He’ll never forget the night either.

Stefan stared out the window. His thoughts drifted
back to their homeland, in the Carpathian Mountains, in a town which no longer
exists. Not only did the town cease to exist after the eventful night, but
Ecaterina’s mortal life came to an end. The earthquake hit late morning,
mid-week, most of the villagers were out and about at the market or in
Ecaterina’s case, attending her wedding.

Upon awakening for the night he saw the
destruction. For hours he walked the remainder of the streets of carnage from
the quake. There were moaning, crippled bodies everywhere. Those who survived
were gathering what they could salvage and making their way from the area.
Aftershocks still shook the ground, sending screams spangling into the
darkness. For the first time since his transmutation, his heart ached for his
people; he cared for them deeply and felt their pain.

Everything changed for him on that fateful night.

He found Ecaterina buried under rubble in the
chapel, barely alive, delirious with fever after being covered by heavy rock
for more than twelve hours, he cleared her from the debris. Gasping for air,
she begged him to end her life. Stefan knew if he did nothing an agonizing
death laid ahead, as life slipped from her grasp. He wrestled with the decision
to turn her. Looking up at him, her eyes filled with tears, and a gentle calm
settled over the fragile fading creature. He took her and changed her in the
chapel ruins. A blasphemous act he would pay for with his soul for eternity.
That night happened over three hundred years ago.

He glanced back at the woman who sat across from
him tonight, still a fragile and frightened creature. The turbulence stripped
away the formidable exterior she constructed around herself over three
centuries exposing the vulnerable young woman she used to be. He could see it
on her face. He could hear her heart racing and watched her body tense. For all
her bravado with every other aspect of her existence, he remembered the frail
and frightened Ecaterina he turned three centuries ago. He created her and now
regretted doing so.

He closed himself off from feeling for so many
years. Maybe he was a stone-cold heartless bastard, but he didn’t purposely
kill his own kind for no reason. What kind of game was she up to? But more to
the point, what ulterior motive did Dragomir have to use this deadly virus?

The private jet landed in Miami after midnight.

Chapter 14

Next
Afternoon, Miami Beach, Florida

“About time you showed up, Johnson. Get your
skinny ass over here,” Division Chief Todd Martin shouted across the room.

FBI Special Agent Scott Johnson hurried to his
division chief, not wanting to give the older man any excuses to take him off
the undercover case. He’d been in Miami Beach for twelve months and his boss
still gave him a hard time since being assigned to the Special Vamp Unit. He’d
swear the Chief tried his damnedest to get him fired or transferred out. The
past six months he’d been undercover at the SanGeneMur (SGM) Pharmaceuticals
Corporate offices working as a lab technician. The assignment dealt with uncovering
the virus threat within the Vamp Community before it got out of control. The
Bureau’s initial reports indicated the outbreak started in Miami Beach with a
rogue vampire, and spread to a human after a vampire reportedly died from the
mysterious virus. With their self-healing powers, viruses shouldn’t affect
vampires. The reports didn’t make sense, but they had dead bodies to prove it.
Washington wanted answers and headquarters needed the information kept quiet
until the virus could be confirmed.

Johnson’s background as a pre-med graduate before
being recruited by the Bureau made him the perfect candidate for the case. Six
weeks into his new post with Martin though, and he was ready to shoot himself
or his boss or both. The man drove him up the frigging wall with his insistent
badgering and nit-picking. “Yes, sir,” he replied back to the Chief every time
with few deviations. It was the best he could get out without losing his
temper.

“What took you so long?” Martin asked. “And what
the hell are you wearing? Not enough time to do your nails or pretty boy hair
or something?”

Johnson ignored the jibes directed at his
masculinity.
“Summertime traffic, sir.
I dressed for
work at the lab. I didn’t know how long I’d be here. Who’s the
vic
? Another vamp
bite
the dust?” He forced a laugh.

Martin scowled. “I could only wish it were that
easy. I wanted to have a nice lunch with my wife today. Surprise her. It’s her
birthday.
But,
nooo
.
I get a dead, half-naked human woman instead of
a live fully naked one for some afternoon delight.” He shook his head. “The
dead bimbo’s a Romanian national, so it falls to us and not the local boys on
this one. I want you working on this Johnson.” Martin waved his hand at the
center of the stage where a sheet-covered body lay.

“Why me?
What would this
dead woman have to do with the job I’m working now? Is the death related to the
vamp virus?” Johnson couldn’t help wondering why he was even at this club or
whatever the place was called. The marquee on the outside said
Euphoria
. The name conjured up a lot of
different images in his brain as to what went on in the establishment.

He worked undercover. To pull him in on a murder
case had to be major. He had never seen a place quite like it, dark and almost,
erotic. It was obvious Martin didn’t like him. He seemed to go out of his way
to make Johnson’s life miserable. Maybe this was Martin’s way of getting under
his skin, taunting him to transfer out and go back to the New York field
office, his last assignment.

Martin scowled again. “She was human, and worked
for the vamps at SGM. That’s where you come in Johnson. Besides, everyone else
is on vacation or working other cases.” He moved over to the body on the stage
area. Johnson followed, digging his notebook and pen out of his jacket pocket.
Martin looked over his shoulder to see if Johnson followed.

“How do you know she worked at SGM, sir?”

“After the cleaning crew found her early this
morning, scaring the shit out of them by the way, poor wretched lads,” he
chuckled and shook his head, “they told me they checked the lockers. The only
one with personal items had women’s clothing, which they assumed were hers.
They found a lab jacket with the SGM Pharmaceuticals logo embroidered on it
amongst the belongings. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this one
out Johnson.”

“No I guess not, sir. I hope they didn’t touch
anything. I want to take a look at those clothes.”

“Nope.
It’s been secured.
You’ve been at SGM for six months now, right?” He reached down and pulled the
sheet off the woman with the flourish of a magician revealing his assistant’s
reappearance after the incantation. “Have you seen her around the office
Johnson?”

“Petrescu, her name is Alina Petrescu.”

“You know her. Good, because since she was
half-naked and had no ID on her or with the belongings in the locker, and no
one we’ve interviewed so far will give us any details. You’ve filled in one
piece of the puzzle. This is good. I knew bringing you on the case would get it
solved fast.” Martin covered the woman with the sheet with the same flourish as
he uncovered her.

“Alina was my one solid contact at SGM. I’ve been
working her to get information about the secret project in the lab where she
was assigned,” Johnson said. Nausea roiled in his stomach. Alina was a pretty
girl, slightly older than him, cute, but an ounce too skinny for his tastes.
Her information had been helpful in the investigation. With his main contact
elimination, he wondered what he was going to do. It had been going so well.
He’d made headway getting closer to the top, meeting Emil Dragomir, the elusive
owner of SGM Pharmaceuticals, and finding out about the special project he
heard rumors about.

“So, Johnson, you’re it,” he said curtly. “Just
wrap the damn case up as fast as you can. The higher up mucky-mucks don’t want
any of this vampire virus crap leaking out. Don’t do any fancy-assed stuff,
just the usual paperwork. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”
Johnson
nodded. “But, sir, why do you think this is virus related?”

“Do you see any blood?”

“No.”

“This is a vamp club. She’s human, and dead with
no bite marks and no blood loss. It has to be the virus. This will make the
fifth virus death this month, if so. Almost all employees at SGM are foreign
nationals which is another strange anomaly to these cases. The labs will probably
prove it out about the virus. The Medical Examiner said we should have the
results in twenty-four hours. You can add his findings to your report. Do you
want me to do the entire investigation for you? Do your job Johnson. It’s what
Uncle Sam trained you for.”

“Yes, sir, I didn’t mean for you…” His voice
trailed off.

“Johnson, stop being such a namby-pamby, pretty
boy. Maybe you need to take some lessons from the people who run this club.”

“Huh? What kind of vamp club is this? I’ve never
seen one like it.” He turned his head, surveying the dark walls with various
unusual contraptions displayed, racks, benches, and…

A pat on his shoulder came from behind, and he
jerked slightly.
“A kinky, vamp sex dungeon Johnson.
You’ve never been to one?” Jared Palmer, the twenty-nine year old, smart-ass
party boy agent who always seemed to get the best assignments said with a
snicker in his voice.

Johnson shook his head.

“Man, where have you been living, under a rock?”
Palmer walked over to the dead woman and pulled up the sheet. After taking a
look, shook his head, and dropped the sheet back down. “What a shame.” He knelt
down and Johnson watched him read something.

“What are you doing?” Johnson asked.

“Seeing what kinky crap she liked?”

“Huh?”

“Seeing what turned her on.
Reading
her key.
Man, this girl was into some nasty shit.
Probably
died from over-stimulation.”
He laughed.

“That’s not funny. You have no idea of the cause
of death. She was a sweet person.” Johnson said curtly.

“Hey what’s your problem dude? It’s no big deal.”

“He knew her Palmer,” Martin said.

“Oh, sorry man.
I didn’t
know.” He spread the sheet over her arm and stood facing the other two men.

“
Why’s Palmer here boss
?
I thought this was my case.” Johnson asked.

“It is, and since you are still working undercover
at the lab, you need backup on the outside to keep your cover intact. Palmer is
it. You boys play nice.”

The disappointment curled in his stomach. Johnson
knew he was an idiot thinking this way, but he would have liked the task as
lead investigator in a murder without backup, except this was not a simple
murder. Chief was right. He worked six months undercover making progress and
would like to keep it that way. This case involved the vampire virus and it had
already shown itself to be complicated. This murder made it more complex. He
needed backup, but why did he have to have it in the form of the punk ass Jared
Palmer, the office’s real pretty boy? The man got under his skin. He sighed,
wondering if Martin actually wanted him to fail. The thought solidified
Johnson’s determination. He resolved not to fail himself, the Bureau, or Alina.
He owed it to her most of all.

“So did the ME give an estimate to the time of
death?” Johnson asked, taking notes surveying the crime scene.

Martin yawned. “The ME estimates around five or
six this morning.”

“So right around sunrise, about closing time for
the club I assume?” Johnson asked, writing the fact down on his notepad. He
turned his wrist to look at his watch. “The body was found at around
nine-thirty and it’s now eleven-thirty.” He scribbled more notes.

“Yeah, that would make sense. No one saw her keel
over because they were gone,” Palmer said.

Martin shook his head. “I’ve got to get back to
the office. Maybe I can salvage something with my wife for her birthday after
all. You boys take care of this. Start by interviewing the employees. They know
something. It’s your job to get it out of them.” He turned on his heel,
dismissing Johnson and Palmer with his back. “Johnson, I want the preliminary
report on my desk tomorrow afternoon. No excuses.”

“Yes, sir,” the two men said practically in
unison.

Johnson walked over to the lifeless form under the
white sheet and stared down. The woman under the cover was someone he knew, his
contact at the SGM Pharmaceuticals. Could he be the reason for her death? He
brushed those thoughts aside. No way had anyone known he was a Fed. He had
intensive training and had complete control of his thoughts. If a vamp came
within ten feet, he could mask his mind—no doubt.

He crouched down and pulled the cover back. The
young woman’s unseeing glazed icy blue eyes stared back at him. Her porcelain
white skin was bare except for black leather straps wrapped meticulously around
her chest and over her hips and through her crotch. She wore candy apple red
stiletto high heels, which Johnson had to guess were at least five inches tall.
How anyone could walk in shoes high enough to break an ankle defied his
comprehension. From around her wrist hung the ‘key’ Palmer referred to earlier.
Alina was young with delicate features and had been pretty in life, but the
pale mask of death made her gruesome. Johnson sighed, numb to the sight, having
seen death in many of its ghastly forms during his short career. He looked down
the length of her body and could just about make out the sickening, bright red
marks that lined the fair skin on her round ass cheeks where someone had
whipped her. Johnson shifted his gaze to her wrists and ankles, the obvious
marks of rope burns, evidence of Alina being tied up at one point. “Jesus,
Palmer. What kind of vampire club did you say this was? Look at these marks on
her body. What do you make of this?”

“Man, I told you this is a dungeon.
A BDSM dungeon.
You
know,
the bondage
and discipline kind of shit. The chick was into being tied up and whipped to
get her jollies off.”

“What? I thought this kinky kind of stuff was for
the real sicko psychos, not nice girls like Alina.”

“No man. It’s a whole lifestyle for quite a lot of
fine upstanding, well-educated people. You’d be surprised about the number of
people into kink.”

“I guess you’re right. I have been living under a
rock.”

“Yeah, and add the vampire blood and sex to the
mix and you have one hell of a combination. There is a real black market for
this crap. It’s getting bigger than the guns and other street drugs. The DEA
and ATF are having a vacation compared to what we’re starting to see. I got a
feeling there are some changes coming down from Washington as to who has
jurisdiction over this shit.”

“How do you know all about this?”

“I keep my ear to what’s happening. I plan on
moving up the ladder fast in the Bureau. Do you think I want to stay here in
Miami forever? Hell no! I want to be in Washington where you play the politics
of the game. Ha, maybe one day, you’ll be calling me boss, old man.” He fist
punched Johnson in the arm, almost knocking him off-balance.

“Hey, I’m not much older than you punk. It’ll be a
cold day in hell before I call you my boss, kid.” He returned the punch.

After six months undercover, Johnson didn’t think
he was in touch with the happenings of the Bureau, a problem he had to correct.
He wanted to move up in the Bureau the same as Palmer, and he’d be damned if
this pretty boy, fast-talking ass kisser would get promoted before he did.
Johnson heard rumors about the guy, even before he was assigned to Miami Beach.
He’d ignored them at the time, like he ignored all the trash talk around the
office. Whether the rumors were true or not, Johnson would have to keep his
guard up with Palmer.