Darkness Calls (11 page)

David returned the embrace, his solid presence reassuring and comforting. He was her stability. Her foothold on what was quickly becoming a slippery slope down to a place she didn't want to visit again.

When he finally released her and playfully chucked her under the chin, she bent and checked her ankle holster. Satisfied the gun was secure, she rose and followed her partner out of the coffee shop, intent on beginning that night's surveillance. She hoped that her feeling was wrong and that tonight the killer would make a move.

And she hoped that Ryder wouldn't.

 

The weather was brisk outside, with a nip of chilliness that hinted at the coming of autumn. Ryder glanced across the water and down at the trees that dotted Roosevelt Island, looking for any changes that would confirm fall was almost here. The night would soon be longer and the sun weaker, allowing him greater freedom of movement that the summer denied him.

But the trees were still a dark green in the dimming light of dusk.

“Aren't you going to be late?” Melissa asked as she came out onto the patio.

“I'm skipping the club tonight. There's too much going on.”

“And too many unwanted people?”

He nodded and laid his hands on top of the rough brick wall that edged the patio. “Yes. Too many agents and police. Better to avoid them.”

Melissa gave a thoughtful “Hmm” and faced him, leaning one arm on the wall. “Avoid them or should you say, avoid her?”

Ryder almost absentmindedly raised his hand and ran it along his cheek. It had already healed, but the memory of why he had gotten the scrape lingered in his mind. “She's an unwelcome complication, Danvers.”

Reaching up, Melissa brushed away his hand and ran her thumb along his cheekbone. “She had no reason to—”

Ryder pulled away from her touch and let out a harsh laugh. “Her partner did it. But even if he hadn't, believe me, she had every reason to. What I did…” He stopped and shook his head. “In the old days, my daddy would've whupped me good for taking advantage of a woman like that.”

“This isn't the good ol' days, Ryder, and modern women don't let anyone do anything they don't want done.”

He whirled on her angrily. “And what the killer does? Do the women want that?”

She laid her hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. “This isn't about the killer. It's about you and this agent.”

“This agent…Come the end of this case, she'll be gone and things will be back to normal.”

Melissa slipped her hand away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. “Nothing will ever be normal about the life we lead. Nothing.”

There was a harshness to her tone that drew his attention. “There's no reason why your life can't be normal, Melissa.”

“Isn't there?” she challenged.

“Being my servant—”

“I hate that word,” she said with a shudder. “It makes me feel like I should be a bug-eating Renfield.”

Ryder smiled. “It certainly is an outdated term. You don't really serve me, but you do help keep me safe.”

“Yep, that's me. I keep your blood and your health,” Melissa replied, and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You're wise to stay away tonight, before you risk more than you already have.”

Ryder smiled tightly. “You're probably right. So what are your plans?”

“On a rare free night? Dinner with some girlfriends and then a movie. You will be here when I get home later, right?”

Ryder had planned on staying home. Staying away from the club. But then of course, God was amused by men who made plans. “Maybe” was all he committed to and she smiled tightly, shook her head and walked inside.

He returned to admiring the city below, teeming with life. With humanity. And, for a moment, he thought he could hear the deep, rumbling laughter of the God who had burdened him with this existence and who had brought Diana into his hell.

Ryder cursed under his breath and banged his fist sharply against the brick. Pain radiated through his hand, but not enough to dissuade him.

He pushed off from the wall, rubbed at his cheek and wondered what kind of wound he'd suffer tonight.

T
he Lair was as busy as the night before. Maybe even busier.

As Diana and David had walked up to the club, early in the night, the line was already quite long. Arm in arm, they strolled to the end of the queue, just another couple anxious to get in. As they waited for admission, they leaned close to each other, looking for all the world like lovers sharing a private talk.

There was movement in the line suddenly as the doors to the club finally opened and the bouncers started taking money and stamping hands. Diana and David shuffled along in the crowd, all the time watching for anything unusual. Once inside they headed straight to the bar. The bartender from the other night was on duty once more. He sneered at them as they approached. “You two still playing games?”

Diana nodded at him as David slipped an arm around her waist. “Want to join us?”

“You know he's not my type, sweetheart,” David said pointedly, and motioned with his hand to an attractive Asian woman who was walking their way.

Diana turned and shot a smile at the other agent as she sidled up to them at the bar. “Carly,” she said, and embraced the woman, then led her onto the dance floor while David hung back.

The band had just started to play, something loud with a driving bass beat. Diana released Carly's hand, but edged close to her to dance, moving suggestively to the heavy, pounding rhythm of the music.

As she gyrated, Diana glanced around. David was scrutinizing them. Behind his shoulder, the bartender had lost interest and turned his attention to the sudden rush of patrons clamoring for drinks. She continued to dance, the other agent matching her movements, until, slowly, a crowd formed around them—men hoping to be chosen to join the twosome. One of the guys was a familiar face from last night and Diana wandered toward him, thinking that his continued interest was suspicious. Perhaps the killer would establish a rapport over several nights. Create a level of trust that would make his victim share a drink. A drug-laced drink that wouldn't kick in until she had voluntarily left with him.

Diana placed herself close to the man, her back to him. A few seconds later, he moved, his front brushing her back as they shifted to the beat of the music. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him what she hoped was an enticing smile. He grinned and eased his arm around her bare midriff.

His hand was damp. The skin of his palm soft. He clearly didn't work with his hands. Unlike Ryder, she thought, whose hands were hard and rough and…She stiffened against the suspect and forced away memories of Ryder's touch.

Hard to do since he could be up there somewhere, watching. Either in his office or on the catwalks. Or down in the crowd, heading toward her…But somehow she knew that if he was at the club, she would have sensed him.

And he wasn't there.

So she forced Ryder from her mind and gave her attention to the suspect with whom she was dancing.

 

Ryder paced back and forth in his office, cursing his need. Cursing her for intriguing him so.

She was down there in the crowd. He hadn't seen her yet, but he had smelled her as he had slipped into the club through a back door. Her scent had made him harden, instantly.

Somehow he tamed his urges and limited himself to standing by the windows of his office. Finding her took very little time. She and another woman were surrounded by a group of men whose tongues nearly hung out of their mouths, drooling like the dogs they were. But he wasn't much better, maybe worse. After all, he'd taken his first bite. And far from being satisfied, he wanted another.

Diana was dancing with one attractive man who had his arm against the expanse of skin exposed by her cropped T-shirt. The soft cotton of the top clung to her. Tonight she wore black leather pants that lovingly hugged every inch of her shapely hips and legs.

Lord, how he ached to run his hands across her skin and all that leather. Insane, he told himself as he pushed away from the window and started pacing again. Back and forth, back and forth like a caged animal. But he couldn't be contained for long.

He stalked back to the window and stood there like a man possessed, his need for her the only thing he could think of. What normal, red-blooded man wouldn't want her? Only, he wasn't a man, he reminded himself as he stood there, waiting. Watching her like an animal watched its prey. Imagining and aching, the way a man did for the woman he wanted.

Both sides of him in a war that neither could win.

He stalked down to the main level of the club and paused by the edge of the crowd to take a deep, steadying breath. A mistake. It just intensified the smell of her, awakening all of his senses. Bringing his body to painful life. He curbed those urges as he eased through the crowd and finally reached Diana.

She stopped moving when she saw him. The man with her also stilled, glancing at Ryder. He puffed up his chest as if to warn Ryder away.

Ryder laughed harshly and kept on coming. “May I?” he asked, although it was clear from his tone that there could be only one answer.

Something inside Diana wanted to refuse his continued pursuit, only…A part of her, the one she hated to acknowledge, wanted him to touch her again. Perhaps going with him might goad the killer somehow. Might make the psychopath want to punish her and make her the next victim.

Diana turned and laid a hand on the chest of her partner. Forcing a smile, she begged his indulgence. “We have something to finish. Could I see you later?”

The man glared at Ryder but smiled at her and stepped away, brushing past Ryder with a little shove of his shoulder. In her earpiece, Diana heard David instruct another agent to follow. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Carly's inquiring gaze. Diana signaled her colleague, and as the woman moved into the crowd to find another partner, Diana turned her attention to Ryder. “Haven't you had enough?”

He reached out and bracketed her waist with his hands. The band began to play a slow song and Diana wondered if he'd somehow arranged it. His wicked grin confirmed it. “You don't leave anything to chance, do you?”

“Shut up and dance,” he replied, and eased her close, giving her no choice but to lay her hands along his shoulders as they swayed to the music. “If you try anything again—”

“Shh,” he whispered into the ear without the wire, and gently stroked her waist with his hands. “I just want to hold you. Nothing else,” he said, his voice low and husky.

Holding her was already too much, Diana thought, and swallowed hard. It was wrong to have it feel so good. There wasn't a part of her that wasn't touching him, warming from the contact. She tightened her hands on his shoulders, and he shifted his hands, moving one to the small of her back and the other between them. Then he eased her away slightly.

Diana gave him a puzzled look until he rested his palm on her collarbone and, with his thumb, soothed the purpling mark near her neck that was still sensitive. Especially to his touch.

She sucked in a breath, but not from pain. The sensation of his thumb sent a blast of desire racing through her. “Ryder—”

“Can I make it better?” He didn't wait for her answer. He bent his head and laid his lips against the bruise, kissed her gently.

How can this be happening? she thought as her entire body flared to life. She had to hold on to his shoulders to keep from puddling at his feet. When he opened his mouth and swiped his tongue across the love bite, she moaned and forced herself away from him. “Ryder, this is insane.”

He drew in a ragged breath, nodded and in a pained whisper said, “I should go.”

“You should.” But somehow her hands weren't listening, nor were his. He pulled her close and they once again swayed to the music. Still, Diana managed to scan the crowd. “Do you see anyone? Anything?”

Ryder glanced around, his eyes able to explore even the darkest sections of the club. It was crowded, and as always, along the edges, people were satisfying their physical needs. He sniffed and could smell their lust, which only made his own situation worse.

“There's nothing,” he said, and moved away from her slightly.

Diana examined those around them, then swung her gaze back to the bar. Her gaze collided with that of one young man, but no sooner had the connection been made than he turned away to talk to the bartender. She observed him carefully, tracking him even as her dance with Ryder forced her to swivel her head to keep the young man in sight. The bartender knew him, judging from the way the two were speaking. And if he was a regular, maybe Ryder recognized him, as well.

“Check out the bar. The sandy-haired twentysomething talking to the bartender.” She took the lead, forcing Ryder to turn so that he was facing that section of the club. Unfortunately, by the time they turned the young man was gone.

“What did you see?” he asked, wondering what had caught her attention.

Diana shrugged. “Something felt a little off. I don't know why.”

Ryder didn't keep her as she pulled away from him and headed toward the bar.

 

The Lair had emptied out. Ryder was up in his office. David and the remainder of the agents and police were finishing their assigned tasks and would shortly be headed to the next part of the investigation: waiting.

Diana despised the waiting. And she hated having no control over what the killer was doing at that very moment. Even worse, she resented having no control over what she was feeling for the man who waited for her in his office.

She shut off her earpiece and slipped it into her pocket. Heading down the hall, she paused to check on David as he collected the tapes from the night. “Ready in five?” she asked.

David looked up from his paperwork and shot her a dubious look. “Sure, but will you be?”

Diana expelled a harsh breath and dragged a hand through her hair. “If I'm not down in five, come be the cavalry.”

Her partner nodded. “I'll give you ten.”

She walked briskly down the hall and up the stairs to Ryder's office. The door was open, but the room was dark. She called out his name as she walked in and hit the wall switch. Nothing happened. She stepped farther into the room.

“Like the dark, do you?” she challenged as she stepped to a nearby table lamp and snapped it on.

Dim light illuminated the room, barely reaching Ryder behind his desk.

Ryder picked up the tumbler before him and took a sip. “I live in the dark, Diana, even when it's light out. You should recognize that. After all—”

“I'm not like that. Like you,” she defended, both excited and afraid of the energy pouring off him.

“Aren't you?” he challenged, and shot up out of the chair. As he approached, she moved away.

He stopped and raised one dark eyebrow. “Afraid?”

Damn him, she thought, unable to refuse the inherent dare in his comment. She stepped toward him but stopped well out of his reach. “What do you want from me?”

He shrugged and relaxed his stance. “Maybe your question should be, ‘What do I want from him?'” He moved a step closer, as if waiting for her to bolt. She held her ground as he said, “Maybe we both want the same thing.”

“We don't—”

“Don't you?” He closed the distance between them and cradled her cheek.

“Ryder, don't—”

“Don't touch you? Don't want you?” he said, his voice low and full of need.

At this range, with his body inches from hers, she could smell him. He wore a light citrusy scent, and as he exhaled, there was the sharp bite of liquor on his breath. Power hummed around him. The energy she had sensed earlier wrapped around her, sucking her in.

Diana eased forward until barely an inch separated their bodies. Her nipples tightened, and deep between her legs, something clenched and throbbed. She drew a shaky breath and met his gaze, realizing he was as affected as she was.

The pupils of his eyes were wide, nearly black. The hand that stroked her cheek trembled, and then he shifted that hand to the back of her neck. He applied gentle pressure to close the slight distance between them.

“Diana?”

She jumped away from Ryder, startled, and turned to meet David's concerned gaze.

Her partner advanced on them, and she stepped into his path, for she had no doubt about what David intended.

“Ah, the errant knight come to save the fair damsel,” Ryder taunted.

Diana turned and shot him a withering glance as David pushed against the hand she had on his chest. She tried to reassure her partner. “Stop, David. I'm okay.” Although she was anything but.

David moved back a step. “We need to go.” He glared over her shoulder at Ryder.

Diana nodded, patted David's chest in a friendly gesture and faced Ryder. “We'll call if we need you. Can you—”

“I can make it in the afternoon. I have a meeting—”

“On a Sunday morning?” David challenged, unwilling to cut the other man any measure of slack.

“With a young lady I can't disappoint,” Ryder finished as if David hadn't interrupted.