Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (24 page)

She leaned against him, absorbing his body heat, trying to give him a little of hers in return.

They sat in companionable silence until the mist turned into fat droplets. He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

They sprinted through the rain, not stopping until they reached the apartment building. Soaked and laughing, they hurried inside.

She let them into the apartment. “Get out of those wet clothes.” She dodged into the bedroom. Her own garments felt tight and clingy. She peeled them off and tossed them in the wicker hamper.

After a quick perusal of her closet, she dressed and ran her fingers through her hair, separating the wet strands.

Thunder crashed, making her jump. Rain lashed the window in a furious onslaught. Shivering, she pulled the comforter off her bed. Huddling on the sofa and watching movies would be a nice way to spend the rest of the evening. She stepped through the doorway and froze.

Julian stood bare-assed naked, a pair of jeans in one hand, underwear in the other.

“Oops.” Her face heated, but she devoured his body in a head to toe visual sweep that left her in search of her breath.

Julian made no move to cover his nudity. “I couldn’t find anything clean to change into.”

“I’ll give you time to dress,” she squeaked and tore her eyes away from where they’d become glued. She scurried back into the bedroom. Dear God, he was more beautiful than she’d guessed. Her heart pounded, caught between the pull of her desire for him and her fear of intimate touching.

Instinct urged her to call him to her, but the thought of having sex, even with him, made her heart pound and her stomach lurch.

If she called him, he would claim her. Mating was instinct driven in males, animalistic at its core. An invitation into her bedroom would end in only one way—with him on top of her, inside her.

His desire to mate was strong even though he tried to hide it. If she encouraged him, he would take her and worry about the consequences later. Males of their species were aggressive and he was no different just because he’d gotten a late start. Sex with him might be rough. Or worse.

The sudden dampness between her legs was at odds with her fear. She wanted him like she’d wanted no other. She wanted to submit to him, open herself to him, give herself to him.

But she wouldn’t. Once the deed was done, there was no going back. Things would be forever changed between them.

She waited until he’d had enough time to dress before poking her head out again. He sat on the sofa, watching TV.

Attempting to appear unruffled, she left the sanctuary of the bedroom and sat beside him. She spread the comforter over them.

He leaned against her. “Sorry about that.” But he didn’t look the least bit sorry. The smartass.

She gave him a quelling glare which dissolved into laughter. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and laughed until tears ran from her eyes. “I didn’t expect to walk out and catch you like that.” She giggled again.

“Am I that funny looking?”

“You’re beautiful.” She lifted her head and her tears of laughter dried up. “Julian, hold me. I keep thinking about…”

He gathered her tight in his arms. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here and I’ll keep you safe.” He stroked her back. “I promise you, if it’s the last thing I do, those two bastards are going to die for what they did.”

FRAMER BENT over the dead woman for a better look at the bite mark on her breast. Drained of blood, puncture wounds, the unmistakable signature of a vampire marked her corpse. It had to be the rogue they hadn’t been able to apprehend yet. The one they’d infected with the live virus wouldn’t be in any shape to hunt women.

Both rogues should be awaiting execution right now. Instead, another woman lay dead in the street and the vampires were on the loose. They had to catch them and fast. His job depended on it. He wasn’t a fool. Banks had been gunning for an excuse to fire him for years.

This kill brought a new dimension to the situation and ratcheted up the need to capture and kill the blond male. They’d thought the rogues were strictly targeting prostitutes. But this woman wasn’t a whore. Her light makeup and sensible, casual clothes were not those of a prostitute.

He had to get the murdering psychos off the streets before it became a major news story. The Security Center would look bad and he would look bad. Too many people already knew about the killings.

With any luck, the juvenile had died. The last report he’d received had stated the young male was succumbing to infection, but the virus he’d been injected with had taken hold.

Either one should have killed him.

Chapter Twenty-two

JULIAN LET himself in the apartment after walking Saranna to Dangles. The couple of nights they’d had together had been nice. But now she’d gone back to work and he already missed her.

He grabbed a can of Mountain Dew from the fridge and settled on the sofa to wait for Ashton and Slade.

He flipped through the scrapbook he’d taken from his old apartment. He hadn’t opened it in years. He turned a page. And wished he hadn’t. A clipping announced the winner of a competition he’d lost. It wasn’t that he’d lost … not exactly. He stared at the article and his fingers tightened on the soda can. He took another drink.

Hands closed around his throat and locked in a crushing grip. He choked, spewing the soft drink from his gasping mouth. The can slipped from his fingers and the scrapbook tumbled to the carpet.

He fought to rip himself loose, clawing at the hands crushing his throat. The grip didn’t loosen and shooting stars blazed across his field of vision.

He thrashed, writhing in an effort to wrest himself free from his unseen attacker.

The hands tightened down.

His throat and lungs burned. His stomach convulsed and the Mountain Dew came up, only it couldn’t get past the hands choking him into unconsciousness. His vision grayed. He slipped from the sofa and went to his knees. And yet the hands held tight.

His assailant shook him hard and let go.

Julian gagged and lost the soda. He shook off the daze of suffocation and lurched to his feet. Gasping to drag air through his injured trachea, he drew in a painful breath and tasted blood. He stared with wide-eyed shock at his attacker.

“You didn’t lock the door. And the sofa’s turned wrong. Can’t see who’s slipping up behind you,” Slade said. “Maybe the next time you forget it won’t be me teaching you a lesson.”

Lightning-strike fast, Julian hit him in the jaw.

Slade staggered back from the blow, but didn’t go down.

“You didn’t have to take it that far to make your fucking point.” Julian’s voice came out a hoarse scratch.

Slade rubbed his jaw and grimaced. “No, I didn’t, but I bet you’ll never forget again. I have no desire to come in here and find my sister slain.”

“No one’s going to come in here.” Julian wasn’t buying it.

“Are you that fucking stupid?”

“Get the fuck off my back. I won’t forget again.”

“See that you don’t. If you’re trying to impress us, you’re failing miserably.” Slade bent and before Julian had a chance to grab the scrapbook, he retrieved it. It had landed face down on the page Julian had turned to.

Slade stared for a moment. Julian recognized the exact moment when comprehension dawned in Slade. Eyes narrowed, he met Julian’s gaze. He didn’t speak, just handed Julian the book. But knowledge burned in his eyes.

Was Slade going to say anything or let it ride?

Slade prowled to the window and pulled back the curtain. The moment over, Julian released his pent up breath. Slade wasn’t going to squeal. Though he now had damning information. How long before he used it?

No longer limping, Ashton sauntered across the room as if amused by the incident. He had a yellow plastic bag tucked under his arm. “I have some things for you.” He took a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Julian. “My contacts have located your father.”

His hand closed on the paper and, with trembling fingers, he unfolded the small square. “Jesus,” he whispered. His father lived right here. He met Ashton’s eyes.

“He’s close. He’s been at that address for a while.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No prob.” Ashton opened the bag and pulled out a black vest-like contraption with a lot of Velcro dangling from it. “This is for you. It’s Kevlar. You wear it every time we go out. Got it?”

Holy shit. “Yes.” He took the vest and slipped it on. After a brief struggle with the straps, he tightened it to a good fit. It didn’t cover him completely. His shoulders were vulnerable, as were his sides, because it only gave chest protection, but it sure as hell beat nothing. “Thanks.”

“Most of us wear them. Now get your ass in gear. I want you to show us where the traders took you.”

A VAN pulled into the drive and remotely opened the garage door. Ashton and Slade flattened themselves against the bricks of the trader’s building. Julian hunkered down on his heels. The van disappeared into the basement and the door rattled shut.

“They’ve brought in at least one vampire.” Julian’s voice was hoarse.

“We have to save whoever they’ve caught.” Ashton’s eyes narrowed to slits. “We’ll look for paperwork. See if we can get addresses of the people these bastards are doing business with.”

Julian kept his mouth shut about the ledger. “I’ll find out how many of the bastards are in there.” He took off before they tried to stop him. Nothing like showing a little initiative for the cause. He hurried to the door he’d used on his B and E venture and leaned up to the single window.

Three males slouched in cages. Two men sat at a table, eating from bags of fast food.

He motioned for Ashton and Slade. “Take a look.”

“Easy pickings,” Ashton said after Slade took his turn at the window. “Try not to trash the place and don’t bite. Shoot the fuckers. Let their boss wonder about what happened.” He pulled a Smith & Wesson from his waistband. “Ready?”

Weapons in hand, they nodded.

Ashton kicked the door open and they swarmed inside, each going in a different direction.

Though surprised, the men moved fast, diving onto the floor and taking cover behind a work bench.

One bobbed up and fired as Slade dove for the floor.

Ashton leveled his gun and squeezed off a shot. The report was deafening in the basement. The man went down without so much as a whimper.

The caged males flattened themselves as shots volleyed back and forth. One wailed in terror.

A second man surfaced from behind the work bench and fired a round. Slade hissed and yanked a dart out of his shoulder. The man had gotten the bright idea to take prisoners.

Julian fired and missed.

The man ducked, but popped up again with a dart gun aimed in Julian’s direction.

Julian fired. The man screamed and clutched his stomach.

Julian spun and dodged behind a half-wall.

Ashton fired and finished the job, silencing the screaming human. “We need to teach you how to shoot.”

“I hit him.” Julian jacked his chin up in indignation.

“In the guts. You want a clean kill.” Ashton moved to Slade who lay on the floor.

“I’m okay.” Slade looked anything but.

Julian went to the cages. The occupants were unhurt.

A juvenile gripped the bars, hope in his drugged eyes. “Can you let us out of here?”

Ashton strode to the counter and tossed a set of keys to Julian. “Try these.”

Julian worked on the locks, opening each cage. But the males were helpless, unable to stand. “We’ll get you guys out.”

Ashton halted his assault on the basement. “No records. We might as well clear out.” He hit the button on the garage door opener. “I’ll get the car.” The door rose with a clatter and he jogged up the driveway.

In less than three minutes, he backed down into the basement.

They crammed Slade in the front seat and the other three in the back. Julian squeezed in with the strangers.

“Everybody ready to blow this dump?” Ashton hit the gas.

SARANNA HAD promised to take a cab home, but her tips had been shorter than usual and her phone was out of minutes. She needed her phone more than she needed a ride.

She walked with purpose, head up, to give the impression of a woman unafraid and not to be messed with.

She crossed the street and picked up her pace. Julian would be home soon and she wanted to get there before he did.

Ahead of her, a long-haired youth lay curled on the sidewalk. His hair obscured his face, but she was sure she knew him. She went to him and knelt beside his still form. “Raven?” She touched his shoulder and he jumped.

“Raven? What’s wrong?”

He rolled over, his glazed eyes seeking hers.

Saranna gasped.

Bruises marred his handsome face, his lip was split and bloody. But worse, he was obviously stoned out of his mind.

“What happened? What have you been taking?”

“I don’t know. A dude gave me some pills before…”

“He beat you up.” Her heart sank. This was too familiar. “You didn’t leave the shelter, did you?”

“No, but I needed money. Bastard robbed me.”

She stroked his head. “Have you been selling yourself?”

He swallowed and said nothing. It was answer enough.

“Damn it, Raven, I tried to help you.”

“Don’t yell at me.” His voice wavered, breaking her heart.

“Prostitution isn’t the answer. Can’t you see that? What if the next one kills you?”

“Then it’ll all be over. No one will hurt me again.”

She wanted to ask him for a promise to stop, but why bother? Raven was troubled. And why wouldn’t he be. A simple promise wasn’t going to make it all better. He needed a real home and a family. He needed people who loved him and there wasn’t a chance in the world of him getting it.

Her eyes burned. It was so unfair. To the best of her knowledge, Raven had never harmed a soul. And here he was, selling his body, taking drugs, and Lord only knew what else.

“Can you get up? I’ll walk with you to the shelter.”

He crawled to his knees and struggled onto his feet where he swayed slightly. He was messed up. “Can you make it?”