Darkness Calls (17 page)

She picked up her chin. “Why?”

Ryder laughed again, rose from his chair and stood before her. He cradled her cheek, and she flinched. His touch held none of the tenderness of the night before. “Because only a coldhearted witch could fail to see that what happened last night was magical.”

She turned away from him, unable to answer. She couldn't let him know how much it had meant to her, but she was afraid that if she denied it, she would be the coldhearted witch he had accused her of being. Ryder wasn't going to let her go without an answer.

He knelt before her and applied gentle pressure to her cheek until she faced him. “The woman I held in my arms last night was anything but cold. She had a passion and fire that touched me deep inside.” With his free hand, he grasped her hand and brought it to his heart. “It made me feel again, in here, after years of thinking I didn't have anything left.”

“Ryder, please. Don't make this any harder than it has to be.” He was melting her will and exposing the neediness she had confided to Maggie earlier.

“Are you going to find reasons to push me away? To hide from me, Diana?” he pressed.

“This,” she said, and motioned to the both of them with her hand, “is crazy. It's wrong—”

“Is it, now?” he said with a hint of teasing in his voice. He moved closer and brushed his lips against hers as he whispered, “If it feels as good as this, how could it be wrong?”

She wanted to challenge him. Deny what she was feeling, but it was impossible when the press of his lips urged her to return his kiss. When the gentle swipe of his tongue begged for entrance. He tasted so good, just Ryder and the slight bite of the whiskey he must have been drinking before her arrival.

Murmuring a protest, she pulled away slightly and tried to continue with her questioning. “What do you do in the alley, Ryder?”

Ryder shifted his lips to her jaw, dropped little kisses along the line of it. He paused by her ear to whisper, “Nothing illegal or immoral, if that's what you're worried about.”

Diana sucked in a breath as he nuzzled her neck and laid kiss after kiss down the length of it. She was losing perspective and needed to regain it, and quickly. Tugging at the longish hair at the nape of his neck, she slipped out of the chair as he shifted away and stood. When he rose and took a step toward her, she raised her hand to stop him. “Business, remember. Do you meet Doug to deal drugs?”

He moved toward her, like an animal stalking its prey. “I've already told you, it's nothing you need to worry about. And as far as I know, Doug isn't dealing anymore. He probably ran because he's scared.”

Diana nodded. “Does he trust you?”

Ryder came a step nearer. “Why shouldn't he?”

Diana inched back, slowly working her way to the door. “Call him and explain. Tell him we want to ask about the killings and nothing else. Tell him he's not a suspect.”

“Done,” he replied quickly, and advanced on her but she couldn't avoid that final question. “Why do you meet Melissa in the alley?”

“No reason that concerns you.”

“You live with her.”

“She shares my apartment. There's only one person I want to share my bed.” He took another stride her way, forcing her against the wall by his door.

Diana had few choices: face him, face her fears, or run. She chose to run. “Don't do this, Ryder, or—”

“Or what? You'll kick my ass…again?” He tenderly ran his thumb across her lips. “Do you think that will prove you have control?”

“I have no control when it comes to you,” she confessed. She could try to convince herself otherwise, but she knew she'd be lying.

Ryder laid his fingertips against her mouth and softly traced the shape of her lips as he said, “Do you think you're the only one with that problem? Don't you know that I've thought about what we did and wondered if it made sense to continue this?”

“Why wouldn't you want to?” she asked, a little confused and offended that he would hesitate, even though she was prepared to run.

Ryder noted the kaleidoscope of emotions that moved across her face.
“Why?
Do you think I want the FBI meddling in my life, even if I am totally aboveboard? Do you think I like the power you have over me, both physically and emotionally?”

Surprise registered on her face and she shrugged. “If it balances things out, I've asked myself why I let you charm me—”

“I wouldn't use the word
charm.
Charm doesn't usually involve bruises.” He rubbed at a tender spot on his ribs from the rough play of the night before.

“More reason I should leave. Before I really hurt you.” She lifted her chin a notch.

“Too late, darlin'. You've wounded me to the quick.” He was already damned.

“Ryder, I should—”

“Leave,” he finished, but gave her no opportunity to run, moving his hand quickly to the nape of her neck to hold her in place while he took her mouth with his lips.

She murmured a halfhearted protest, but he was not dissuaded. As he continued to kiss her, she relented and gave herself over to him. He moved his mouth against hers, savoring the warmth and softness of her lips and the slight catch in her breath that let him slip inside and experience the flavors of her. He eased his arms around her waist, entrapping her as the kiss went on and on, growing deeper and more intense with each passing moment until he needed more. Until kissing wasn't enough.

He slipped one hand beneath the edge of her skirt while he pressed her tight against him with the other hand. Her stocking was slick beneath his palm. Until the edge of it gave way to the silky smoothness of her skin. He grinned. “Does every FBI agent wear these beneath her very proper suit?”

Diana retaliated with a quick bite to his lower lip that she then laved with her tongue. “What do you think?” She met his gaze and gave him a saucy grin.

He shifted his hand past the thigh-high stocking to the minuscule scrap of panties she wore, his mind working overtime as he imagined what that tiny piece of lingerie looked like. He hardened and barely stifled a groan as she cupped him through the fabric of his pants. “Someone better help me, 'cause I can't get enough of you.”

Diana couldn't get enough of him, either. When he slipped his hand beneath the edge of her underwear, she opened her mouth on his, encouraging him to continue even though she should be putting a stop to this. Everything about them together was…

She groaned as he parted her, finding her center and stroking it with a finger. Her breath hitched in her chest as he eased first one finger and then a second into her and moved them, building the pressure and making her needy to have him there.

Still, she gave one last shot at preserving what little sanity she had left. “We need to stop,” she said, even as she returned his kisses, unzipped his pants and freed him.

His breathing was rough against her face as he leaned his forehead against hers and glanced down to watch her surround him with her hand. “You only want to convince yourself that this is no good.”

“It isn't,” she replied between shaky breaths. “I can't control myself around you. That isn't good.” But she helped him undo the buttons on her shirt and part the fabric, exposing the lacy bra beneath.

Ryder could barely think, his mind whirling with the feel of her beneath his fingers, warm and wet. Ready for him. And the sight of her breasts covered by the barest of taupe-colored lace, her dark coral nipples visible beneath the sheer fabric. His mouth watered, wanting to taste them. He reached up with his hand and undid the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts spilled free.

“Ryder.”

He didn't know if his name was a plea for him to continue or to stop. He made a judgment call. Bringing his hands beneath her buttocks, he applied slight pressure and she eased up, encircled his waist with her legs and guided him into her.

Ryder sucked in a breath as she surrounded him and he lost the last dregs of reason.

He leaned her against the wall and slowly shifted in and out of her. Needing to taste more, he bent his head and suckled one nipple and then the other, thinking no fruit had ever been as sweet.

She clasped his head tight to her chest and moved her hips, increasing his penetration. The warmth of her began a corresponding heat in his body. A heat that sizzled beneath his skin, awakening the barely leashed animal inside. An animal that knew there was little tenderness in this mating. There was just raw, driving need that made him thrust into her powerfully, seeking release. Seeking something more.

Diana welcomed the harsh movements of his hips driving her closer and closer to the edge. She held his head tight to her breasts as his mouth pulled at her nipples. And when he bit her gently, she cried out.

His head shot up, and there was something in his gaze she had not seen before. Something hard and dark and…exciting. Something she couldn't deny any more than she had denied the demon in her dreams. “Come with me, Ryder. Love me.”

He closed his eyes and drove into her more forcefully. His thrusts sent waves of pleasure rippling through her, and she moaned, clasping him close.

Ryder was lost in the demand of their bodies. The beast in him savored the smells and sounds and tastes of their passion. He sniffed the air, running his hands along the small of her back. The heat of her overwhelmed him now as he moved within her. He struggled to rein in the animal, but it was a losing battle.

He bent his head and licked the tender spot between her neck and shoulder as his fangs erupted from his mouth. He grazed them against her skin and she held him close, cradling the back of his head. The smell of her arousal was a powerful call, and as she neared the edge of her release, it urged him on.

He buried his face against her neck, sucking at the saltiness of her skin and sensing the pounding beat of her pulse beneath his lips.

And then he felt the power of her climax as it washed over her and dragged him downward into the depths of their darkness. Beneath his mouth, her pulse beat forcefully, the rhythm of it matching the need surging within him.

A need he couldn't deny any longer.

He bit down.

The sharp, stinging pain against her neck forced her to cry out and arch her back. She tried to pull away until the pain was replaced by a searing, pulsing fire that worked its way through her body. It spread across her, setting her nerves ablaze, bringing a strange kind of pleasure along with the pain.

Her world shimmered as the flames licked along her nerve endings. She continued to hold him tight, her body wrapped around him. Urging him on as her release continued until she was light-headed and barely able to breathe. Still, she cradled him close.

Her blood was earthy against Ryder's lips, spiced with their mutual passion. He drank and drank of her as the fire of their joining continued. The blood enervated him with a strength that he had never experienced before. And he knew she felt it, as well, from the way her body shifted against his and the soft guttural cries of pleasure that spilled from her lips.

Ryder was lost, trapped by the animal. He continued to move in her, driven by bloodlust. She answered, holding him, calling out his name as he fed from her until her body went limp in his arms.

It was then that some small measure of sanity told him to stop. He would kill her if he couldn't master what they were experiencing together.

He reared back, breathing heavily. Her blood stained his lips as he realized she had nearly passed out. Her eyes were wide and she struggled to focus on his face. His animal face, he thought with a disgust that immediately tamped the fire of their passion and brought the beast under control.

“Easy, darlin'. Easy,” he crooned, stroking her face with a shaky hand and withdrawing from her. His fangs retreated, but the taste of her lingered on his lips.

Her eyes drifted closed and she shook her head. As her body went limp, he cursed beneath his breath and picked her up in his arms.

D
iana came awake slowly, a vague disorientation making her groggy. Groaning, she clasped one hand to her head and realized that she was lying along the length of Ryder on the sofa in his office. She opened her eyes, met his concerned gaze and rose up on one elbow so she could see his face better. “What happened?”

“We got carried away and…I think the French call it ‘la petite morte,' he replied uneasily, and shifted their bodies so that she sat in his lap and he held her steady.

She examined his face, wondering. She'd never passed out during sex, but then again, she'd never experienced that kind of pleasure with anyone else. She remembered that much, but, as she met his gaze once again, she was sure there was more. Her body confirmed it as the soreness between her legs gave testament to how intensely they had loved each other. There had been something else there—lustful and dark and…She buried her face in her hands and murmured, “Tell me we didn't do it against—”

“The wall?” he finished, one dark eyebrow raised.

Diana jumped out of his arms. Assorted muscles protested and her head whirled. This was wrong, she thought as a weakness that was almost unnatural rocked her. She looked up at him again. “What happened?” she asked, accusation thick in her voice.

“It was more intense than either of us expected.”

She didn't know what to believe. There was a kaleidoscope of conflicting images racing through her brain. He took her into his arms and held her tightly. “You need to rest. Come lie with me.”

Diana hesitated, unsure if that was the wisest thing to do, but she was too physically and emotionally battered to do anything else. She hated this weakness, and she hated that it was a result of succumbing to her baser instincts. To the darkness she thought she had mastered long ago.

And even though she let him guide her back to the sofa and into his arms, she hated him for exposing her frailty.

 

Ryder stood by the railing on the patio, watching the sunrise. The rays bathed the land with brightness and light. With warmth…

The sun was low in the horizon. Still not strong enough to hurt him, but it would be soon. He could sense it. He smelled the coming of the dawn, and felt it in the muscles and sinews of his body. It was a vampire thing. Just like better hearing and sight, and extra strength, stamina and healing. Although in retrospect, the strength was not necessarily enough when one went up against a trained fighter. Diana had proved that.

Just as Diana had proved the wonders of some of his other gifts, like bites that healed within minutes and brought forgetfulness. The person bitten was slightly muzzy, as if they suffered the aftereffects of drunkenness. Unless it was the ultimate bite—the one that made someone a vampire.

Such wonderful gifts, Ryder thought with anger, and gripped the railing of the patio tighter. The sun rose higher and his body screamed for him to get indoors. To avoid the rays of the sun that would rob him of his strength, and eventually, if he stayed there long enough, kill him.

Maybe that was what he deserved, Ryder thought, his guilt strong. Like any other victim, Diana had awoken with no idea of what had happened, but he'd sensed her unease even as she kissed him goodbye. She'd known things weren't right. It was only a matter of time until…

His cell phone rang and the caller ID showed that it was Diana. Ryder couldn't answer, unable to deal with her just yet. The ringing stopped, but started up a moment later.

He placed the phone into the cradle on his belt and gripped the railing again as the rays of the sun warmed the exposed parts of his body. The heat grew, until pain sizzled along his skin, not unlike what he felt when the change came over him.

Only, this change would be permanent—if he stayed out here long enough…By noon he'd be gone. And maybe, after nearly two centuries of a painful and lonely existence that would be for the best.

The phone rang again, its chirp like that of an artificial bird. A footfall came behind him. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

He turned and faced Melissa. She was still in her pajamas and was hastily tying the sash on her robe. When she reached his side, she took hold of his arm and yanked. “Ryder. Come on. You have to get inside.”

“Why, Melissa? So I can live for another hundred years? Maybe even another two hundred years…alone?” he snapped, pain lacing every word.

Surprise flashed over her face. Surprise and regret. “When I mentioned the condoms…” She dropped his arm, turned and walked away from him, then slowly faced him once more. “Tell me you didn't—”

“Fall in love? Make love? Maybe even bite her?” Ryder advanced on his companion, the pain of the sun as it touched his skin forgotten thanks to the greater ache in his heart.

“You didn't turn her, did you?” Melissa asked fearfully.

“I didn't but…” Ryder raked a hand through his hair and his joints ached as he did so. His exposure to the sun was beginning to take its toll on his body. How much longer would it take? he wondered. Would it be painful? Would it be harder than facing the pain in his heart?

Melissa laid a hand in the middle of his back. “You can do this, if you want to be a coward. If you want to leave her wondering…”

Ryder couldn't bear to hurt Diana, but that was the most likely outcome of all of this. Once she knew the truth of his existence.

Ryder turned and walked into the upper hall. Melissa closed the French doors with their special UV-blocking glass behind them.

“What will you tell her?”

Ryder had been asking himself that all night long. He had to end it. He had to make her not want to see him again.

His cell phone rang again. Melissa looked down at it, then up at him, and motioned for him to answer. He did.

“Hello, Diana. How are you feeling?” He closed his eyes, picturing her as they made love.

“I'm weird, Ryder. We need to talk about last night. About where we go from here,” she said, and there was something in her voice that told him she wasn't going to run. It brought both joy and despair.

And he knew suddenly what he had to do to make the break.

“I can see you tonight. At the club…Meet me in the alley at two, after you're done with the stakeout,” he said, hating what he was going to do but knowing there was no other way.

 

They'd tracked down a dozen possible leads that matched the pattern she and the others had worked out at the morgue. In the few short hours left to them that Tuesday afternoon, they'd managed to find all of the suspects. Four were behind bars, two were dead and the other four seemed to be leading trouble-free lives. Of the four who had the freedom to commit the acts, two were too far away—one in Los Angeles and the other in Philadelphia. The other two each had solid alibis for the nights in question.

Diana slouched down into her chair and let out a tired sigh. In less than an hour it was back to The Lair and a fresh stakeout. Maybe they'd have some luck with either Greg the bartender or Doug the bouncer.

She dragged a hand through her hair and went to stand by the window. In the late summer sun, everything was bright and golden. It would be another hour or two before dusk came and brought the darkness. The killer wouldn't come out until then. He'd wait before heading to the club to pick his next victim. He'd charm her, buy her a drink or two, make her feel comfortable. Making her feel as if she could trust him. And then he'd slip a roofie into the beverage.

He had to have a car nearby, and Diana had already had her squad check for parking violations in the area. Tonight, she had an extra contingent of police ready to scour the blocks around the scene, checking license plate numbers. Matching the registered owners with what physical evidence they had from the killer would limit the number of suspects.

And then there was that last bit of evidence—the analysis of the stuff in the last victim's hair. A strange piece of evidence Diana wasn't sure what to do with. Tests had shown the foreign matter to be olive oil, garlic, parsley and lemon. It was a mixture Diana was well familiar with—it formed the basis for many sauces in a variety of Latino recipes. How that tied the victim to the killer, if at all, was a puzzle. No food was served at Ryder's club, so The Lair was not where the sauce had gotten on the victim. Had it come from dinner or an after-dance snack with the killer? Was that where he'd slipped her the roofie instead of at the nightclub? Had the victim brushed against something during the course of the day and not noticed? Why hadn't the two other victims had something similar?

Diana took a quick look at her reflection in the mirror, satisfied with the bib halter and black leather pants she wore for tonight's surveillance. She planted her hands on her hips and sighed harshly. The killer was leading them on a merry chase and there was no certainty that he would strike again today.

“Diana?” David stood at the door of her office. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I'm sorry. I didn't hear you.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his faded black jeans. He, too, had gotten dressed for the night and sported a black T-shirt and black leather jacket. The color enhanced his golden surfer-boy looks. “Are you ready?”

“You driving?”

David knew her too well by now not to realize she was either distracted or trying her best to hide something from him. “Don't you need your car for after or are you meeting Ryder again?”

“You don't like him, I know. But I can handle him.”

He blew out a harsh laugh and shook his head. “What you need to be handling right now is this investigation.”

“Are you implying I'm not? That I'm somehow not doing something I should be?”

“You know I'm not, but—”

“Then what is it? What's bugging you?”

“Don't shut me out, Di. I'm your partner. Don't make me try to guess what's going on.”

“There's nothing there that concerns you.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. “This thing with you and Ryder. It's interfering with us.”

“Us?” She motioned to the two of them. “You and I are only partners, David. Nothing that's going on with Ryder is—”

“Only partners?” His voice was loud and edged with exasperation. “That's harsh. I thought we were friends, too, but I guess I was wrong.”

Diana closed her eyes and cursed beneath her breath at her thoughtlessness. “David, I'm sorry. You are my friend and—”

“Ryder? What is he to you, Di? What is it about—”

“He's my lover.”

David stood there for a moment. His face registered the shock of her admission. Then his mouth flopped up and down, like a fish freshly pulled from the water. When he croaked, “Listen, Di,” she slipped her palm over his mouth to silence him.

“This is too new, David. Too uncertain. Can you understand that?”

He nodded and she eased her hand away with a weak smile. “We will talk about it soon, but for now…I just need to think about this myself. Get a handle on what's happening.” She took hold of his hand and gave it a shake. “Come on, partner. Time to hit those mean streets.”