Beyond the Grave (2 page)

"You're wrong about me. I have no choice but to be alone. That is my penance to pay. And when Regent dies, I'll be completely alone. No one else can take his place in my heart."

"I don't want to take his place, Jess. I want to make my own place. You have room in your heart for me, whether you know it or not."

"You're delusional.” She grabbed her car keys off the rickety kitchen table and slammed out of his apartment.

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"Goddamnit!” Britt rammed his hand into the mirror after checking his neck for the umpteenth time. Two hours had passed and he kept looking at his damned flesh. What the hell was wrong with him? There wasn't a mark anywhere on his skin.

Tiny cracks spidered out from the spot where his fist had connected with the mirror. Great! Add seven years bad luck to his paranoia.

Was he afraid of Jess? Afraid of what she could do to him? He dropped onto the couch and lowered his head into his hands. His feelings for her hadn't changed. She was a vampire and he had to come to terms with what had nearly happened tonight before they could move forward.

That is,
if
Jess ever let him back into her life after the way he'd mishandled things. He shouldn't have let her leave like that. She'd been angry. And disillusioned by his reaction to her near attack. Who could blame her?

She hadn't made it this long as a vampire without having immeasurable strength of will. She could shut him out forever if she really wanted to.
"Shit!"

His phone rang. “Brittain, here."

"John, can you come to Central Park right away? We've got a dead body. A female,” Sampson Case, Jess's Forensic Vampirologist said. “I know you're on your time off, but I'd like you to attend this scene."

Unusual to say the least. Why in the world would Sampson call him to a crime scene on his day off? “Who found her?"

"A civilian.” Sampson sighed. “Poor SOB. Listen, I need you here."

"I'll be there in a couple of minutes,” Britt said, slamming down the phone and grabbing his badge off the dresser before he tore down the stairs to his police-issued car.

As usual, a bloodthirsty crowd had gathered at the perimeter of the yellow tape. The sun had set two hours ago and night had settled over the city creating dark corners and hidey holes in the park.

Citizens of New York thought the killers in this area were gang members. Truth was, gangs stayed away from this section of the park. He'd heard it from, Julio, a friend who lived in his building. None of the locals wandered into this particular gang's territory unless they wanted to die.

Showing his badge to an officer protecting the perimeter, Britt strode across the freshly mowed lawn, now glistening with dew.

"Sampson.” Britt touched the Forensic vampirologist on his shoulder to get his attention.

Sampson turned and blinked at Britt through goggles. With his white hood up and tied tight under his chin, he exemplified the typical geek scientist. One who was very good at what he did. Sampson smiled. “Glad you could make it, Britt."

Looking over his shoulder, Britt eyed the familiar faces of the team on duty. “Aren't I stepping on Brogan's territory?"

"Normally, yes, but this is something that requires specialized knowledge,” Sampson said, letting his gaze wander in the direction of his forensic crew before he led Britt out of earshot.

What kind of specialized knowledge did Sampson think he had over the other Black Ops team members? Britt ran his fingers through his hair and set his jaw.

"Jess isn't with you?” Sampson asked. His voice held a note of tension.

"No, she's not with me. Why?"

"You'll see.” Sampson motioned for Britt to follow him, and he led him closer to the victim.

Britt's gut tightened as he stepped toward the body. Why the hell was Sampson being so cryptic? It wasn't like him.

A dark haired woman lay on the ground. Her throat had two sets of gaping holes with blood tracks going in two directions. The first set would have been made when she was standing, and the second set had been left when she'd dropped to the ground in this very spot.

"Vamped,” Britt said in a monotone. Nothing uncommon in this city lately. Jess's and Britt's team had taken out a horde of vampires in the last few weeks. Unfortunately, that didn't mean there were no vampires left in the city.

"She certainly was bitten. But there's something else, Britt. Something I didn't want anyone but you to see.” Sampson looked around, as though to make sure no one could hear him. He pulled an evidence bag of his pocket, the contents clamped in his hand so tightly his knuckles were white even through his glove. He opened his fist to produce Jess's jewel encrusted dagger.

"How'd you get that? Jess never goes anywhere without it,” Britt said.

A sudden gut-kicking realization struck him. “No way, Sampson. You didn't find that dagger in the victim."

"Not in her, no. Beneath her. Evidence suggests Jess dropped it in the heat of the moment."

"You can't honestly believe Jess Vandermire killed that girl? You've known her longer than I have. You know what kind of a person she is, and there's no way in hell she'd ever do anything like that."

"Not normally. But she's got a dark side, too, Britt. A side she's managed to keep at bay for years, but who knows what might set her off? She is what she is, after all."

Britt's hand clenched into a fist, and he nearly raised his arm to punch Sampson. How dare he say such things?

"Sampson, I'm going to forget you just said that, but just this once,” Britt said through clenched teeth. “But if I ever hear you say anything like that again, I won't be responsible for my actions."

Sampson sighed. “Of course, I don't want it to be Jess. And until we can prove who did this, she's innocent. On the other hand, it is my duty to look at all angles. This is her dagger. There's no denying that. How'd it get here?"

"I don't know how the hell it got here,” Britt spat so loudly that several of the cops turned to look at him. He lowered his voice. “But, if you breathe one word of this to anyone!
Anyone
, before I find out what the truth is, I swear, Sampson, I'll gut you myself."

Sampson actually laughed. “Good. Jess really knew what she was doing when she hired you. Prove her innocent. Please.” Sampson handed over the dagger.

Britt's eyebrows arched, but he grabbed the weapon out of Sampson's hand before he could change his mind. “You aren't going to turn it in as evidence?"

"Turn what in?” Without a backward glance, Sampson shrugged and moved away.

Britt pressed his eyes shut and sucked in a lung full of city air, then wished he hadn't. Tonight the city reeked of death and foul things that crept through the streets after dark. He'd give his next paycheck for a whiff of Jess's tantalizing perfume right about now.

Her cab pulled in front of a brick building. Still royally pissed off that she'd been ordered to come here, Jess had to concentrate to keep her teeth from growing. She'd be the last person who should act as a public relations suck up.

A sigh escaped her. A wasted pun and Regent was nowhere nearby.

She stared at the building again and frowned. “This the Dragon's Lair Club?” she asked the cabbie.

"Yeah. They don't go for the obvious,” he said in a strong Brooklyn accent.

"Why would a club not advertise their location?” The place looked more like an office building than a club.

He tipped his hat back and turned to look at her suspiciously. “Cause it's exclusive. They don't let people like me inside.” The way he looked her over made her wonder if he thought the same thing about her.

"Thanks,” she said, slapping the money into his outstretched hand.

She'd been way too edgy since her episode with Britt. Not just because she'd nearly sunk her fangs into his neck, but also because she'd lost the opportunity to experience making love with the only man she'd ever allowed herself to care for in the fifty years since her dark curse began.

Now she'd ruined that opportunity forever.

Inside the building, at the end of a long hallway, a doorman beckoned her forward with two fingers. “Card please.” His voice droned. Even though he sounded bored, he was anything but. His sharp gaze raked over her and she had the distinct impression he knew exactly who she was before he looked at her card. The fact that he had a significant bulge under his right armpit made Jess a little more interested in finding out what Vaslov was up to.

Inside the crowded club she spotted Lieutenants Koss and Ballard waving at her from the far side of the room.

She walked toward them, ignoring the lascivious comments from some of the men along the way. Mostly because she wasn't supposed to be able to hear what they whispered under their breath.

Strange how men thought she was beautiful now that she was dead. Physically she hadn't changed, but she'd become dangerous—and dark. Why were men attracted to bad girls?

"Nice spot,” she said facetiously, sliding onto the bar stool next to her counterparts.

"Too nice for the likes of us,” Jarrod sipped a Scotch on the rocks. “What are
we
doing here, anyway?” He leaned closer. “And, what do you think of the specialized security they've got here? The doorman was packing, and so are several of the waiters."

"I'll tell you what I think,” Brian Koss made a disgusted noise, “It makes me suspicious."

"And, why would Vaslov invite us and not the brass?” Jess said as she turned to scan the room from her bar stool.

"Good question. Not to mention I'm giving up a night on stakeout in a dank, derelict building to sip free booze tonight.” He grinned and savored another drink of his Scotch.

"Believe me I'd rather be in a derelict building than pretending I belong in a place like this. At least on the street, I know where I stand,” Jess said.

Brian nodded his agreement. “Why were you so late arriving? Our host asked about you twice,” He leaned one arm against the bar and stared at her. Waited for her response. As if she owed
him
one.

"Really? What's this guy like? Is he as full of himself as most people with more money than brains?"

Jarrod choked on his whiskey just as Jess caught Vaslov in her peripheral vision. She clamped her teeth together. How the hell did Drago Vaslov get this close without her senses warning her? It shouldn't have happened.

She met Vaslov's gaze and allowed a cool, disinterested smile, effectively letting him know she wasn't intimidated by his position or his wealth. Or by the fact that he'd caught her unawares.

He wasn't quite as handsome as he'd looked in the papers. There was an underlying aura of a man who'd been on the mean streets, a man who'd adopted the air of sophistication. She'd bet her badge his poise was an act. In fact, besides vampires, not many people could give that wordless look of control with the impact he did. Points to him.

"I've always appreciated people who aren't afraid to speak their mind,” he said, a hint of dry humor in his voice. “It gets boring if everyone agrees with my every word."

Jess very much doubted there was any truth in his statement. He didn't look like he'd brook insubordination.

Vaslov smiled at her smoothly. Too smoothly. And even though he nodded to the two cops behind her, he didn't take his eyes off her. “Of course once you get to know me better, I'm hoping you'll find that I do have the brains to back up the wealth."

She gritted her teeth and decided his strong cologne wasn't the only thing in the room that stunk.

The fact remained that he could ruin an officer's career if he really wanted to, and being human, Drago couldn't hear Jarrod's erratic breathing behind her. Knowing Jarrod, he'd be panicking, afraid she'd do something to disgrace the Department. Like most of her fellow police officers, Jarrod didn't know she was a vampire, but he did know she had a temper that shouldn't be meddled with.

"Look, Mr. Vaslov,” she began.

"Please, call me Drago.” His hand held hers in his firm grip. “I've heard a lot about you, Captain Vandermire. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

"Mr. Vaslov.” She ignored his request to call him Drago. “On behalf of the Department, we appreciate the invitation. I'm sure we're keeping you from your guests, though. We'll just have a drink, pay our bill and then be off."

"No need to pay for your drink, it's on the house and please, please, don't hurry away. I've been hoping to get to know you a little better, Jess. May I call you, Jess?"

"We can't accept the drink without paying for it, as I'm sure you know.” She looked back at her two colleagues, who'd pretty much faded into the background. They didn't want to do anything to disrupt the almighty Vaslov.

"Why did you want to meet me?” She returned her attention to Vaslov and frowned.

"I've heard about you through the grapevine. You're well respected by your co-workers."

That was one way to put it. She scared the hell out of most of them. “Really? If you'd be so kind as to tell me who mentioned me to you, I'd like to thank them.” Her co-workers were Black Ops. They didn't talk about each other, or their job. If they did, they'd be history. Someone's ass would be on the line over this.

His pupils contracted. He obviously didn't like her reply. Even though his mask remained firmly in place, he couldn't control his pupils. Mr. Vaslov had a tell.

"Excuse me, sir, you're wanted on the phone.” A tall waiter in a tuxedo nervously held a phone in his hand. Drago looked extremely irritated by the interruption and made no attempt to accept the phone. “Tell whomever it is I'll call them back."

The uncomfortable employee cleared his throat but remained where he was. In fact, he looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else than here at the moment. “I think you'll want to take this call now, sir."

Drago looked directly at Jess, and his expression softened perceptibly.

Apparently he could bullshit as good as the best of them.

"Please forgive me. It appears I'll have to take this call."

"By all means,” she said, glad of the interruption. Now she had the perfect opportunity to nose around a little then make herself scarce. She'd be long gone before Vaslov got back.