Bitten By Regret (Just One Bite #2) (12 page)

"It's your case to try. I can't stop you, and you may
be right. This man will go to prison regardless of whether he's charged with a
cop's murder or not," Alexar said stonily. His displeasure was evident but
the ball was out of his hands. The DA made the decisions from here on out and
his opinion, even as commander, did not count for much.

Carson smiled, his lips tight, tension filling his upper
body. He looked like a tiger then, Lizbeth thought. All bunched muscles and
dangerous potential. "Yes, you're right. He will go down for his crimes,
and as a cop killer he can look forward to a very long life behind bars. It's
justice either way." He stood then, holding his hand out to Alexar.
"I need to go take care of the paperwork on my end. Commander
Thompson," he said in a dismissive tone. Alexar reluctantly shook the
man's hand, letting go as quickly as possible.

Carson turned to Lizbeth, his back to Alexar. "And
Detective Snyder," he said as he gripped her hand, holding onto it rather
than shaking it this time. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again
quite soon." He flashed the tips of his fangs at her, his smile broadening
as he watched her pale at his words. He released her and she clenched her
undamaged left arm over her injured right one, her eyes not leaving him until
her office door closed behind him.

"Son of a bitch," Alexar shouted angrily, kicking
Lizbeth's desk as he finally vented his frustrations. "I didn't want the
case to go this way, Lizbeth. That guy's a real piece of work.
He's
 
something
else." He kicked the desk again, wincing as he did so.

Lizbeth continued to hold her body tight as she stared at
the closed door. "More than you know, Alexar," she whispered.
"He's definitely something else."

Chapter Eighteen

Diandra had been ignoring the phone all day. The cell phone
started ringing not long after Eamon went back outside. Seeing it was Jonah
calling she sighed and hit the button to send it straight to voicemail. A half
hour later she did the same thing, and an hour after that. Now it was late afternoon
and she had 16 new messages. Rolling her eyes she finally started going through
them. They got increasingly angry as they continued, she noticed with some
satisfaction.

"Diandra,
it's
Jonah. I just
thought I'd see what your schedule looked like for the day. Maybe we can grab
some lunch this afternoon if you're available. Call me back when you get a
chance. This is my new prepaid phone." He rattled off the number and hung
up.

The message that came in just before noon was impatient.
"It's Jonah again. I suppose you're busy but I'd appreciate a call back
when you can work it into your schedule." Again he rattled off the number,
his voice sounding irritated.

The latest call made her laugh. It had come in a few minutes
before she started checking her messages. "I don't know what your fucking
problem is, Diandra, but the least you can do is check your damned messages. I
want to see my daughter. You better call me back soon. You will regret it if
you don't." That time he didn't even leave a number- he simply
disconnected the call.

In between ignoring his phone calls she'd spent the day
doing paperwork for her charitable organization. She'd fallen behind lately
with all the developments in her life these past few months. Everything was
finally organized into the appropriate folder, labeled and placed into the
filing cabinet she'd hauled out of the basement for just this purpose. It gave
her a twinge of satisfaction to use the filing cabinet Jonah's seedy business
records had been kept in to organize her own legitimate business.

After completing the paperwork she moved on to filling out
grant applications. There were a number of grants available for charitable
organizations like the one she was currently running. If the grant went through
she could afford to appoint someone to the committee to help with the paperwork
and possibly expand their reach a bit. Right now they could only afford to help
those who lived in Sussex County. If any of these grants came through they
could expand to help Kent County as well.

She stopped for a moment, pen poised as she looked back on
all she'd accomplished. Pride swelled up within her as she remembered some of
the faces of the people she'd helped. The mom who escaped her abusive husband
and had nowhere else to go, the drug addicted man who lost everything and
wanted nothing more than to get back on his feet, and dozens more who simply
needed someone to believe in them. The money that started the program may have
been dirty, but surely by now she'd cleaned the taint of corruption by putting
it to such a selfless use. She didn't need the money, and now, knowing where it
had come from, she didn't even want it. She was living comfortably within her
means and was satisfied knowing she was raising her daughter with positive
examples.

From the other room came a loud thud and the sound of
RaeLynn's high-pitched baby screams. Diandra was at the baby's side at once,
thanking God for her vampire speed and praying for her baby's health. RaeLynn
had managed to flip herself over the side of the bassinet. The noise she had
heard was the sound of her child's body hitting the hardwood floor.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Diandra muttered over and
over again, completely unaware that she was speaking out loud. She scooped the
shrieking child off the floor, cradling her to her breast. RaeLynn's shrieking
subsided to hysterical whimpers as she snuggled into the warmth of her mother's
body. Dia smelled blood and knew her child had injured herself. Suddenly
worried, she braced herself before scenting the air then relaxed. She could
smell her own scent mixed in with her daughter's blood, and the scent in the
air was weak. This told Diandra two very important things: first, the smell of
her daughter's blood did not trigger her bloodlust, and second, the wound was
superficial or the scent would be thicker on the air.

Diandra pulled back and saw a gash on Rae's hairline where
the skin had split as she hit the floor. The bleeding was light and that
surprised her- she knew head wounds usually bled heavily, making the injury
appear much worse than it actually was. Dia carried RaeLynn into the kitchen to
clean the cut and see if she needed to go to the hospital. Part of her worried,
knowing that since she'd fallen from a height of about three feet she probably
should be examined by a doctor. The other part of her simply wanted to cradle
her child and comfort her without the hassle of a scary trip to the hospital.

Dampening a paper towel and adding a tiny drop of
antibacterial dish detergent she set RaeLynn on the counter and leaned back,
her hip still supporting the chubby infant. Wiping gently at the wound and
humming her daughter's favorite lullaby she paused in the middle of a verse and
leaned closer. She could have sworn a few minutes ago that the cut had been about
two inches now. It was actually only about an inch or so in length and not much
wider than a paper cut. She shrugged it off, realizing the bleeding had made
the wound appear worse than it was after all. Scooping RaeLynn back up, she
carried her into the parlor and sat her on the floor by her favorite building
blocks. As far as she was concerned the grant paperwork could wait for a bit.
Right now all she wanted was to watch her daughter play and reassure herself
that she was fine.

The phone rang again and Diandra cursed thoroughly in her
head, unwilling to ruin her daughter's playtime with the negativity. She
reached into her the pocket of her pants and pulled out the cell phone.
"Yes, Jonah," she said wearily.

"And just where fuck have you been?" he said,
working himself up. "I've been calling you all day."

Diandra sighed. She refused to give in to the pissing match
he obviously wanted to start. "And I've been hitting the bitch button all
day to send you to voice mail. What's your point?" Jonah was quiet and
Diandra felt a spurt of satisfaction. Okay, maybe she was going to get involved
in the pissing match after all. "What do you want, Jonah?"

"I want to see my daughter.
Tonight.
Now."

Diandra laughed. "We have plans tonight that don't
include you."

"And what would that be?" Jonah snarled into the
phone. "Sex education by fucking your bitch in front of my daughter?"

Diandra grinned at his attempt to insult her.
"Actually, after dinner I'll give
my
daughter a bath, lay
my
daughter down
for bed, and then I'll fuck Lizbeth, thanks for asking."

Jonah was quiet for a moment, obviously unsure what to say
from there. "You will regret this, Diandra. That I guarantee." With
that threat hanging in the air he hung up on her. Diandra shrugged it off and
curled up on the floor to play with RaeLynn while they waited for the woman
they loved to come home from work.

Chapter Nineteen

Lizbeth came home from work that night weary but feeling
vindicated. She was thrilled to have the heroin manufacturer off the streets
after so many months of hard work, but it angered her that she knew who the cop
killer really was and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She set
her briefcase down outside the door so she could use her one good arm to turn
the handle. After opening the door she picked her briefcase back up and stepped
inside, back-kicking the door closed behind her. She winced a little at the
slamming noise it made but figured it was the best she could do right now. She
was thankful her little Nissan was an automatic and not a stick shift or she
would have had to have Alexar drive her home.

She kicked off her shoes and dropped her briefcase in the
open doorway of the den she had claimed as her office before walking towards
the parlor. Diandra was curled up on the floor playing with RaeLynn. Lizbeth
took a moment to take it all in. Dia looked wonderful in en electric blue tank
top and midnight blue shorts. Her pale legs shone in the dim lighting coming
from the overhead fixtures. Her hair was in a sleek bun high on her head, exposing
the long line of her alabaster neck.

RaeLynn made just as much of a picture, her curls still damp
at the ends from a recent bath. Her lavender eyes were heavy as the bottle she
was sipping on worked its magic. Her lightweight summer footed pajamas were a
shade of purple closer to her mother's eye color than her own. Lizbeth's heart
gave a thick, slow thud as love once more washed over her. Love for this
beautiful child and love for Diandra. It was so good to be home.

Dia turned around to face her, the smile on her face fading
into a look of horror as she spotted the sling. Getting to her feet she rushed
over. "Oh, Lizzie, what happened?"

Lizbeth wrapped her one arm around Diandra's back, pulling
her close and giving her a quick kiss. "I'm okay, honey. It's just a
sprain." She sat down on the loveseat, nodding when Diandra asked her if
she'd like a glass of wine. Sipping at it, she waited for Diandra to be settled
next to her before telling her the entire story.

"So you caught one killer but you're saying Giles
Carson admitted to killing the cop?" Diandra rested one hand lightly on
Lizbeth's thigh, leaning forward unconsciously, fully involved in the
conversation.

Lizbeth ran her fingers up and down Diandra's arm as she
answered. "That's about the size of it, yeah. He didn't come right out say
he killed Robbins but he read my mind. He knows I know, but he also knows I
can't prove a damned thing. It's frustrating as Hell to know what a bastard he
is and not be able to expose him."

"We can always kill him," Diandra said softly.
Lizbeth gazed at her with wide eyes. "I can take care of him myself. He's
old, so he has a strong sense of self-preservation, but I've got a lot of
talent already. I can do it, Lizbeth." Her tone had turned urgent- she was
excited at the idea of the kill and wanted to convince her lover that it was a
good idea.

"No," Lizbeth said in a flat voice that brooked no
argument. "No, you will not become some common murderer like the ones I'm
cleaning off the streets."

Diandra gave her a dirty look, removing her hand from
Lizbeth's thigh. "I'm offering to help, Lizzie."

Lizbeth sighed. "And I appreciate that, but I'm just
not okay with that. It's not right, baby."

"And what's not right about it? Tell me that, Lizzie.
It was fine when I killed the men who held you hostage. That was wonderful. You
told me not to feel guilty, you thanked me even. So tell me what the issue
is." Diandra was on her feet, her voice thick with emotion.

To try and calm Diandra down Lizbeth made sure to keep her
tone soothing. "You saved my life- how could I blame you? I cheered you
on. But killing to save someone's life is not the same thing as tracking
someone down and taking their life." She stood up and reached for Diandra
with her undamaged arm, shrugging when she pulled away. "I don't want you
to be like them, the killers on the streets who take lives because they want
to. Even Allsgood was killing the heroin addicts because he thought it was the
right thing to do. Only God has the right to take life away, not us." Her
eyes were pleading, begging Diandra to see her point of view.

Diandra looked back at her coldly. "And what do you
think I'm doing other than saving your life again, Lizbeth? Not just yours, but
countless others. The man is a murderer. We suspected her murdered the former
DA that night, depositing his body in the warehouse sometime after we escaped
but before the cops rolled in. Now you know for sure that he's a cold-blooded
killer. Do you really think he intends for you to live?"

Lizbeth opened her mouth to argue but shut it again quickly,
replaying the confrontation with Carson earlier in her office. She remembered
his saying, "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again quite soon,"
and found there was no valid counter-argument. Diandra was right. She may not
like it, but the woman she loved had a valid point. If he wasn't stopped be
probably would kill her. Maybe he'd even get lucky and take out Diandra, too.
All the blood drained from her face as she considered that he may even hurt
RaeLynn.